Succubus Trials - L.L. Frost Page 0,39

“We have yet to discuss the compensation for my services.”

“Oh, look, the elevator’s here.” Releasing him, I dart ahead to stand next to Emil, using the ice demon as a shield.

Emil’s head turns toward me, his gaze frosty. “K&B Financial’s services are quite expensive. I, too, am curious about compensation. We are not a charity, after all.”

I puff my cheeks out at him. “Not you, too.”

“Gain must be established.” His gaze sweeps over me. “And it won’t be as cheaply acquired as your loan was, Mr. Pond.”

“So many sneaky tricks are in your future, Mr. König. Just you wait.”

Snow dances across his pupils. “I look forward to it, Ms. Pond.”

The mortuary is nothing like I expected. For one thing, it’s not a haunted house with creepy stairs into a dungeon-like basement.

Instead, it looks much like the houses around it, except for a sign at the front that announces its services, and a wheelchair ramp leading to the front door for clients with mobility issues. At some point, the lawn had been pulled up, leaving space for limited parking at the front.

Gravel crunches under the tires as Philip slowly follows the car ahead of us around to the back of the property. No property lights illuminate our way, and once we pass the house, even the street lights fade.

Tobias parks next to a shadowed back door, and Philip pulls up next to my old car and shuts off the engine. We all stare at the backyard where, even in shadows, we can make out nicely tended grass and a picnic area. A chain-link fence separates it from its neighbor’s yard, where a wooden castle and slide structure hint at children next door.

Philip stares at the play structure. “Think those kids have any idea what goes on over here?”

“How could they not?” Heart in the curve of my arm, I pop open the car door and draw a deep breath of the night air as I climb out. It holds the scent of ashes and grief. Even humans out of tune with magic would be affected by this place, children even more so.

It’s not a coincidence that children see boogeymen and ghosts. They’re just told they’re wrong so often by the adults they trust that they eventually blind themselves to the paranormal. Those who never grow out of it live a harder life than those who assimilate, as seen by Reese, who was medicated into normality. Even now that he’s off the medications, he still questions what he sees, needing those around him to verify he’s not crazy.

I nudge Julian when he climbs out of the car. “I bet Reese could be talked into giving your new sword a magical upgrade.”

He snorts. “I’m not sure Kellen would be happy if we asked his witches to make a sword capable of permanent death for demons.”

“Then we don’t tell him,” I whisper.

From the next car over, Kellen lets out an exasperated sigh, confirming his super hearing, too. Not fair at all. How am I supposed to have secrets with these demons of destruction around?

If I have the fancy ability to use their destructive powers before I digest them, then I want a hearing upgrade, too.

Curious, I lift my hand and spindle out some of Tobias’s lava power. My hand heats to a nice, glowing red without catching on fire, and happiness trickles through me. I so need to go visit Torch. I want to play with the little ignis demon without the heat-protective gloves I usually wear.

“Stop it,” Julian hisses, and pink mist covers my hand, dousing the heat. His power tickles, and I shake it away as I meet his worried frown. “Are you trying to draw attention?”

“More attention than a clandestine meeting under the cover of night at a mortuary?” Philip says from the driver’s side.

Julian frowns at him. “You’re taking that literature class I told you not to sign up for, aren’t you?”

Philip shrugs. “English is a required class. It’s a fun way to get the credit without having to read the classics.”

“Classics are the core of all modern literature.” Julian turns to me for help. “Crime noir. How is that even equivalent?”

I lift my hand in a helpless gesture. “Landon raised me on cartoons, so I have no dog in this fight.”

“That explains your cartoonish attempts at subterfuge,” Emil grumbles.

My mouth pops open at the jibe. “Oh, someone’s not getting cuddles tonight.”

“At the rate we’re moving, no one is getting sleep tonight.” Julian ducks back into the car to pull

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