Succubus Dreams

CHAPTER 8

"Succubus."

Dante's laconic voice was the last thing I'd expected to hear when my phone rang the next day. I'd forgotten that I'd left him my number. My surprise quickly gave way to eagerness. Maybe he'd found something for me. No energy loss had occurred after the auction, but then, I hadn't taken a victim either. It wasn't much to go on, but that small pattern Dante had pointed out was still a place to start, and I hoped he'd have more to offer now.

"Hey! What's up?" I sat down on the couch. I'd been getting ready to go out with Seth later, applying makeup the old-fashioned way in order to conserve shape-shifting energy. I'd need to cash in on my auction date sooner rather than later to get some power back.

There was a pause from the other end of the line before Dante spoke again. "I've been thinking…I've been thinking we're going about all of this the wrong way."

Very unexpected. "Really?"

"Yeah. I wasn't taking it seriously, so I understand why you were getting pissed off."

Hearing him admit how he'd been blowing my problems off wasn't exactly cheering, but I appreciated his honesty.

"Well…it's okay. I'm just glad we can maybe figure something out now. I'm getting anxious."

"Me too." More silence, then I heard him take a deep breath. "So, have you ever been to El Gaucho?"

The reference to one of Seattle's downtown steakhouses was such a non sequitur that I couldn't respond for several seconds. When I did speak, it wasn't very articulate.

"What?"

"It's a restaurant. Down on First—"

"Yeah, yeah. I know what it is. What's it have to do with the dreams?"

"Dreams? What are you talking about?"

"What are you—oh, Jesus Christ. Are you asking me out?"

"Of course I am. What the fuck would El Gaucho have to do with those dreams?"

I groaned. "I can't believe this. I actually thought you had something useful for me."

"I'm trying to be nice here! Look, the dreams are a lost cause, but we aren't. You were right when you said I was being sleazy and treating you like you were cheap. So give me a break! I'm trying to have sex with you the right way."

I found this even freakier than when Dante had suggested the place with the happy hour beer. "I don't want to have sex with you, okay? I want your help with my problems. And how many times do I have to tell you that I have a boyfriend?"

"As many times as you want. I just don't buy that that's a real relationship. Particularly after you sold yourself for seventeen-hundred dollars last night."

"How do you know about that?"

"It was in the paper."

"That date doesn't count."

"Can a date with me not count?"

"No! For the last time, I have a boyfriend. I'm going out with him tonight."

"To El Gaucho?"

I hung up.

I was working my hair over with a curling iron later on when I heard knocking at my front door. Walking toward the living room, I felt immortal signatures on the other side. Fortunately, there was nothing musky or slimy here. These were familiar and welcome.

Of course, they weren't exactly welcome tonight.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked, opening the door to admit Peter, Cody, and Hugh. My three stooges. The dwarves to my Snow White. "And why do you always show up when I'm about to go out?"

Like always, they made themselves comfortable in my living room without any further invitation. Cody handed me a slip that had been stuck to the door from my building's office manager, saying I had a package. I made a mental note to pick it up the next time the office was open.

"We're going over to that place that makes the unholy margaritas," he said. "Thought we'd stop by and see if you wanted to go."

"And here you are, ungrateful and mean," said Peter. He glanced around the living room. "I don't see a Christmas tree here."

Hugh was eyeing my red-silk robe. "You going out in that?"

"Of course not. I'm just getting ready, that's all."

The three of them exchanged looks.

"Is it business or Seth?" asked Hugh.

"Seth."

"Damn it," swore Peter. He pulled some crumpled money out of his pocket and handed it to Hugh.

"You guys bet on my love life?"

"Yeah," said Hugh. "All the time. You should see the stakes we've got riding on when you and Seth are finally going to sleep together."

"Well, keep 'em riding, cowboy. It's not going to happen." I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall near my TV. "Of course, Niphon's trying pretty hard to make it happen. Is he in on the bet?"

"Not yet. What's he doing?" asked Cody.

I told them about the offer Niphon had made for Seth's soul. To my surprise, they didn't share my shock and outrage.

"I don't know," said Hugh slowly. "I've kind of thought about that before."

I gaped. "Thought about what before? Buying Seth's soul?"

"Sure. It's what I do, and hey, if it'd help you…"

"Oh dear lord."

"But if you decide to do it," said Hugh warningly, "come to me first. I can beat any offer Niphon makes."

"If you broker the deal, you're disqualified for the bet," warned Peter.

"Hey!" cried Hugh. "That's not right."

"Sure it is. You'd have an unfair advantage—"

"Christ. Be quiet, all of you. I can't believe you guys are seriously talking about buying my boyfriend's—"

A new signature swept through to us. A scent liked candied apples. Warm honey on the skin.

"Tawny," we all said in unison.

I opened the door, and Tawny threw herself into my arms, bawling. I yelped and tried not to fall over.

"Oh, Georgina," she sobbed, mascara running in black rivers down her cheeks. "I'm never going to do it. Never ever ever."

I tried to pull out of her Amazonian embrace. "There, there," I said weakly. "I'm sure you will."

Sniffling, she stepped away and ran a hand over her eyes, making the mascara situation even worse. "No, I can't. I've tried and tried…nothing works."

I glanced over at the guys. They were all looking at me expectantly, like I should be able to explain how one succubus couldn't get laid. I doubted anyone could, though.

"Okay," I said at last. "Calm down, and we'll get to the bottom of it. But first, pull yourself together. You're a mess."

"I can't," she wailed.

"You're thinking like a human," I chastised. "You can shape-shift that makeup mess away."

"No," she said more adamantly. "You don't understand. I can't."

I stared at her, puzzled, then I understood. It was nearly impossible to see, but a faint shimmer was fading in and out around her body. She was having trouble holding this form. Her energy was so low that she was losing her shape-shifting power.

"Whoa," I said. I'd never seen a succubus that bad. I'd been that low once, but it had been after engaging in a major battle of shape-shifting.

Tears started welling up in her eyes again. "What's going to happen? What if I run out and—" On and on she went.

I sighed. There is a moment in every girl's life when she must choose between the lesser of evils. When you're a succubus, those moments come quite often. And right now, I had to choose. I could risk Niphon never leaving town or I could kiss Tawny.

Lesser of evils.

Standing on my tiptoes, I pressed my lips to hers and cut off her babbling. Her lips tasted like bubble gum, probably from the lip gloss. It wasn't a big kiss or anything—barely any tongue—but it was enough. A surge of power poured out of me and into her. Breaking the kiss, I stepped away and looked at her. Her form had stabilized. Meanwhile, I was now down even more in my own energy, but nowhere near the low she'd just experienced.

Her blue eyes widened to an impossible size. "How…what was that?"

"A kiss," I said dryly. "Something you've apparently got to learn about too." Seeing her still-stunned look, I shook my head. "We're vessels for power and life, Tawny. Usually, it passes into our bodies, but sometimes it can be transferred out to other creatures. Succubi and incubi can share it with each other. What I just gave you should keep you going a little longer."

"I don't know," said Cody suddenly. "I think you should give her some more, just to be safe."

Tawny touched her lips, like she could still feel my kiss. "Wow." Her form shifted, and the mascara mess vanished. Her normal, eerily perfect face reappeared.

I sat down on the arm of the couch, near Peter. "Okay. Now let's figure out how in the world this is even possible. What happened to Nick the auctioneer? You guys seemed pretty close last night."

"Well," she mumbled, staring down at her feet. "That kind of fell apart."

"How could it fall apart? He was drooling all over you!"

"Yeah, but he had to stay and close up there, so we couldn't go out last night. I left without him. Today, I called to set up a date, and he said he didn't want to. That he was cool just giving the money to charity and not to bother with anything else."

"He said that?" I asked incredulously. I eyed her suspiciously. "What did you say to him beforehand?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you just call and ask him out right away?"

"Well, no…we made small talk. Not that it did much good. He seemed kind of bored by the end."

Surprise, surprise. Tawny didn't strike me as the world's greatest conversationalist. I could only imagine what she must have babbled about to scare him off.

"Okay," I said, disappointed. Nick had seemed like a sure thing. "Maybe you shouldn't, like, talk to them. What about the strip club job? Did you follow up on that?"

She jerked her head up and looked like she might cry again. "I tried! They said I wasn't qualified."

Even the guys couldn't stay out of this now.

"How can you not qualify for a job as a stripper?" asked Cody.

"Yeah, don't you just have to take off your clothes?" asked Hugh.

"They said I couldn't dance," she explained.

We all stared.

"Okay…" I wondered if maybe I should have read the mentor's handbook after all. "Let's see it."

"See what?"

"You. Dancing."

Tawny looked around the room in terror. "Here?" she squeaked. "In front of all of you?"

"If you can't take your clothes off in front of your friends," said Peter, "who can you take them off in front of?" I elbowed him.

"I can't," she whispered.

"Tawny," I barked. My voice held the authority of a drill sergeant. She jumped. "I am not making out with you until the end of time. You want to do this, then you've got to work for it. Now, take off your clothes."

"Oh," said Hugh. "I've waited ten years to hear you say that to another woman."

I found my stereo remote and turned it on. "Tainted Love" started playing.

"I can't strip to the eighties!"

"Tawny!"

With a terrified look in my direction, she moved to the center of the living room. At first, she just kind of stood there, and then, slowly, she tried to step in time to the music. I say tried because she was so off the beat, it was astonishing. I don't think I could have been that out of sync if I'd tried. Finally, she gave up moving her feet at all and simply focused on her upper body, swaying her arms and torso slightly. It was the most awkward, uncomfortable spectacle I'd ever seen.

At last, she decided she'd "danced" enough and began removing her clothing. She apparently couldn't multitask, however, and gave up all pretenses of moving to the music. Instead, she stood still and started unbuttoning her zebra-print blouse. Her fingers fumbled on the third button down, and it took her almost thirty seconds to unfasten it.

"Stop, please stop," I said, turning off the music. "Your goal is to take years off people's lives, but not like this."

"Was I bad?" she asked.

"No," I said. "You were terrible."

She stuck her lower lip out in a pout.

"Oh, come on," said Cody, ever the kindly one in our group. "That's kind of mean."

"Hey, I'm supposed to be a teacher, not a friend."

"The School of Georgina is a harsh one," intoned Peter solemnly.

"It's not that easy," Tawny said, looking at me accusingly. "If you really are my teacher, then show me how to do it."

Four faces watched me expectantly. I started to protest, then remembered that helping Tawny meant Niphon would leave Seattle that much faster. Getting up off the couch arm, I took her place in the center of the room.

"Okay, first off, you're missing two things. One, listen to the music and move with it. There's a beat. Find it. Move your feet and your body—your whole body—to it. Become part of it." Tawny's blank look told me I was getting too esoteric for her. "Then, when it comes time to take off your clothes, remember that you're not doing it to be practical. You're doing it for someone else. Make it dramatic. Make it artful."

I turned the stereo on and clicked to the next track on my mix CD. It was "Iron Man."

"Hey!" Tawny said. "How come you get metal?"

"Not even you can strip to Ozzy," scoffed Hugh.

I gave him a sidelong glance. "I can strip to anything, baby."

I started moving. For me, there was no thought required at all. I'd been a dancer since my mortal days. I loved it. There was no music. There was no me. We were the same being. My body flowed to its melody and rhythm, every one of my movements graceful and sensual. I didn't even pay attention to my friends. I just let myself get lost in the dance.

I didn't have much on to begin with. I had panties and a bra underneath the robe, but I intended to leave them on. I was close to my friends but not that close. But, I made the most out of taking off the robe, letting my hands slide over my silk-covered body. I slowly untied the sash, drawing the experience out, and finally let it slip to the floor. I took my heels off with equal deliberateness.

Literally never missing a beat, I told Tawny, "When you've got this down, we'll move onto lap dances."

I moved over to where Hugh sat on the loveseat and positioned my legs so that I straddled him while barely touching him. A stripper's art. I ran my fingers through my hair, my body still rippling like a ribbon.

"Hey, big spender," I said.

He looked appreciative but more amused than anything else. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a one dollar bill.

"Hugh," I said. "Don't insult me."

With a sigh, he produced a five and tucked it underneath my bra strap.

"Hey, Seth," Cody suddenly said.

I looked up and saw Seth standing in the doorway. When Tawny had come barreling through, I'd left the door ajar. A look of comic bemusement was on his face.

"Hey," he said, studying me. "So…you're paying for dinner?"

I crawled off Hugh's lap and pulled the five out of my strap. "Only if you want to go to Taco Bell."

Cody handed me a twenty. "Make it a Red Lobster."

My friends got up and moved toward the door, and I assured a distraught Tawny that I'd think of something to help her. Giving up any more attempts at manually getting ready, I shape-shifted into jeans, low boots, and another cashmere sweater. A three-quarter-length gray wool coat covered it all. I grinned at Seth, who was shaking his head ruefully. Compared to the other things he knew I did, an impromptu striptease was pretty low-key.

"And you thought I didn't earn my keep."

"No comment," he said, taking hold of my hand.