Succubus Trials - L.L. Frost Page 0,17

I got was death.”

“Not surprising from a mortifer.” Tobias drums his fingers against the table. “Why set up a meeting if he didn’t plan to use our services? It’s a waste of all our time.”

I rub the goose bumps from my arms. “He said he gained information by coming here. What information could he have obtained in such a short amount of time?”

Tobias and Emil both shake their heads, equally bewildered, before Tobias thrusts to his feet. “I’m going to look deeper into this guy. None of this feels right.”

As he stomps out of the room, Emil switches to his abandoned chair. “Tell me what you saw.”

Feeling dirty, I rub my palms against my thighs as I describe the sensation of slipping into Victor Hesse’s thoughts.

When I fall silent, Emil’s expression grows more troubled. “Banshees?”

Nodding, I resist the urge to cuddle into his arms for comfort. My brief contact with the mortifer demon already left me chilled to the bone. The stink of grave dirt still fills my sense for all that it wasn’t real. Venturing into Victor Hesse’s mind felt like being buried alive, of rotting and being eaten.

Emil’s icy hand cups my cheek. “Go home for now. We’ll be there in a couple hours.”

I nuzzle his palm. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.”

He stands, drawing me to my feet. “No, you helped. I’m just not sure how, yet.”

I tip my head back to stare up at him. “Banshees are bad, aren’t they?”

“They’re never good.” Leaning down, he kisses me lightly on the lips. “Go home. I don’t want you pulled any further into this.”

We walk out of the room, and I pause in the hall to watch him stride toward his office.

Banshees are bad because they don’t lament those already dead. They sing for those who have yet to die.

Uneasy from the meeting, I ignore the glares Ms. Turner sends my way as I leave K&B Financial. The small interaction with Victor Hesse killed any delight I might have taken in needling the soon-to-be-demoted-secretary. I’ll let Tobias deal with her until our paths cross once more, as they’re sure to do if she stays on at K&B Financial, even at a lower position.

When I step outside, the brisk winter air cuts through the thin material of my blouse, and I stop to regain my bearings. It feels like it should be later in the day, even though I was in the bank for barely thirty minutes.

I still have time to return to the bakery to give Tally a break and make sure Sophie hasn’t caused any more problems.

I slip my hands into my pockets, and my fingers curl around Tobias’s key ring.

In the confusion caused by Victor Hesse, my car theft was forgotten, and I plan to spend as much time as possible cruising the streets in Tobias’s baby before he takes it back.

As I step away from the glass doors of the business, a crackling voice calls out, “A little early for an intern to be leaving, isn’t it, Ms. Pond?”

Startled, I turn toward the voice to find Victor Hesse leaning against the side of the building, a slender cigarette balanced between two stick-thin fingers.

I paste on a professional smile. “Interns get the fun of running errands. Are you waiting for a car?”

“Waiting for you, actually.” He steps away from the building, bringing a thick cloud of smoke with him. It doesn’t smell like tobacco. Instead, it holds the sting of burning meat.

I stand my ground. I’ve faced bigger monsters than a lone mortifer, however creepy he may be. “If you’re looking for someone to give you a tour of the city, I’m not your girl.”

“You’re not a girl at all.” His milky eyes track a mother and daughter bundled up tight in their winter coats as they hurry past. “Girls are so soft, so sweet. People put all their hopes and expectations on their small shoulders. When they crumble under the pressure, the death is so much richer.”

In my pockets, my nails lengthen into talons that bite into my palms. “I wouldn’t know.”

His gaze drifts back to me. “No, of course not. Succubi like humans full of vigor. But that’s not enough for you, is it, Ms. Pond? You like to feed on our own people. Consuming powers that are meant to keep our worlds in balance.”

“Excuse me?” My shoulders pull back, chin lifting. “I’m doing a service approved of by the council. I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

“You will.” A sleek black

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