Succubus Dreams Page 0,9

"As if we would discuss our affairs with a dark seductress of evil."

Yasmine elbowed him with an eye roll. "She's joking."

"That's what she wants you to think," he warned ominously. "I for one am not going to let my guard down while she attempts to use her wily and sinister powers of seduction on us."

Fixing him with a slow, languid smile, I leaned back in the chair, crossing my legs so the skirt rode up my thighs. "Baby, if I were using my wily and sinister powers of seduction, you'd be the first to know."

A dark flush stained his cheeks. He fixed his gaze on Carter. "I don't know what game you think you're playing, but you need to get rid of her."

Carter stayed unfazed. "She's harmless - unless you're a drug-pushing god or a nephilim. Or an introverted writer."

Yasmine flinched, her cheerful countenance becoming sober. "Don't joke about nephilim."

"In fact," Carter obliviously continued, "she might fix that little logistical problem. Georgina, I don't suppose you'd mind playing hostess, would you? Vincent needs a place to stay while he's in town."

I arched an eyebrow in surprise. Misinterpreting my silence, Vincent hastily added, "It's okay if you don't want to. I mean, you don't even know me. I can see how that'd be weird."

"I don't know," I told him, even more curious as to what was transpiring with this odd group. "If angels vouch for you...well, you can't really get a better recommendation than that. If you don't mind sleeping on the couch, it's fine by me."

"You're a pearl among succubi," Carter declared.

Joel nearly choked on his drink. Considering his stick-up-the-ass attitude, I doubted he had anything alcoholic. Probably Kool-Aid or Pepsi. Diet Pepsi, at that.

"Are you out of your mind?" he exclaimed. "She's a succubus. You can't subject him to that. Think about his soul."

"She's not really into nice guys," Carter said. "Usually. You won't have a problem."

Yasmine offered Vincent a playful look. "He's not that nice anyway."

"Carter - " began Joel.

"I told you, she's fine. Let it go. You have my word. Besides, she won't ask any questions, and it'll give him an accessible place to stay while you guys search."

I jumped on the word "search." Now we were getting somewhere. "What are you guys looking for?"

Dead silence met me. Whitney crossed her arms. Vincent sipped his drink.

"Okay, I get it." I finished the gimlet with a gulp. "Need to know basis. Mum's the word. Hush-hush and all that."

Yasmine's easy grin returned. "I love her, Carter. No wonder you keep her around."

She then started talking about another succubus she'd met in Boston, smoothly changing subjects as deftly as Carter could. Guessing what I was thinking, Carter caught my eye and grinned. I rolled my own eyes in exasperation.

Nonetheless, as the evening progressed, I found myself liking Yasmine immensely. She, Vincent, and Carter carried most of the conversation, and while angels weren't nearly as fun as the rest of my friends, I found this group entertaining in their own way. They also swore and drank a lot less, but well, nobody's perfect.

When the bar closed, I took Vincent with me, but not before Joel issued warnings about the sanctity of the human soul. Vincent listened to it with a patient face, nodding along at the key parts.

"Is he always like that?" I asked on the drive home.

Vincent laughed. "He can't help it. He means well. He's just worried about me."

"Are you worried?"

"Nah. You're pretty cute, but no, I'm not worried. I'm already in love with someone."

I started to joke that that was no protection against anything, that I'd seduced plenty of guys who thought they were in love. Something in his voice stopped my quip. The way he spoke implied that being in love was indeed protection from me and all the other evils of the world. He spoke like one who was invincible. I suddenly felt sad.

"Good for you," I said softly.

He cut me a sidelong look. "You're okay for a succubus."

"Okay enough to tell me what you and the Super Friends are doing in town?"

A smile flashed back over his face. "No."

At home, I set him up on the couch, producing piles of blankets to keep him warm. I kept my apartment at a steamy temperature most of the time, but it was December, and the part of me that still remembered huddling around meager fires in days gone by felt one could never have enough blankets.

I soon went to bed, buried under my own stash of covers.