“Well played,” I said. “Forces him into the aggressive role.”
“I don’t think Seth’s ever really in an aggressive role,” mused Carter. “It just put him in a position to make the first move, if he wanted to be polite.”
During our brief affair, Seth and I had made love so tenderly and so sweetly that poets would have wept at its beauty. Other times, things had been downright dirty, and I think Carter might have reconsidered his comment about Seth being aggressive, had the angel known.
“Then what?” I demanded.
“Like I said, the same. They talked about different things—a lot of topics interesting to Seth, really. I think she might have done some research on him.”
“Fucking lovely.” I collapsed onto the couch, and then I promptly shot back up. “I’m going over there—”
“Gone,” interrupted Carter. “They went separate ways, and then she bagged some guy, and I decided it was time for me to fly away.”
“Lucky bastard,” grumbled Roman. “You have no idea what kind of shit I had to sit through.”
The hint of a smile flickered on Carter’s face before he turned back to me. I sighed and sat back down. “Confronting her’s no good anyway. You already did it, and nothing came of it. I’m guessing this would just be a repeat.”
Probably a good point. Being in a conflict with a succubus kind of sucked. I could punch Hugh or the vampires, and even with immortal healing, they’d still sport a black eye for a few hours—longer if I was really good. But with a succubus? I could smack her around, and she’d shape-shift the damage. And as for verbal fighting? Well, seeing as I had no real leverage, I’d probably just fuel her further and provide more cat fight entertainment for my friends.
“Well,” I said to Roman. “I think I’m pissed off enough now that you don’t have to go to bed with me.”
Carter’s eyebrow rose again.
“I mean, he doesn’t have to watch me sleep,” I explained. “I was kind of glum earlier, and we were worried my mystery…thing…might show up again.”
“Why glum?” asked Carter. He attempted innocence, but I wasn’t fooled. Even without being at the concert, he could easily figure out what had me down.
“Long story.”
Those silvery gray eyes bored into me, and I shifted and looked away. I hated when he did that. It was like he could see into my soul. That was a place I didn’t even want to look at—let alone have others do it. I attempted a change in subject.
“You know, I was thinking about this thing that’s going on…this force or siren song or whatever. It’s not like what happened with Nyx, but there’s still a dreamlike quality to it, you know? I mean, it certainly seems like I’m sleepwalking. Do you think she could be back?”
“Nope,” said Carter. “She’s definitely still locked up. I checked myself.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
I didn’t follow up with the obvious question. Had Carter done it for me? I mean, checking up on Nyx probably wasn’t too hard for him. He probably just asked some angel buddy who asked another angel…etc. It still made me wonder about Carter’s endgame. Why go to such trouble for me? Why look into this? Why track Simone?
His expression made me think he guessed my thoughts, something I hated. “Thanks,” I said. “But I think I’m heading to bed now.”
“And I,” said Carter, “am going to get a drink.”
“Done with Simone for good?” asked Roman.
Carter made a dismissive gesture. “At least for tonight. I’ll find her in the morning.”
“You’re kind of a slacker spy,” I pointed out, though I definitely understood his reasons for avoiding the other succubus’ liaisons.
His only response was another smile before he vanished.
“Now what?” I wondered aloud.
“Now,” said Roman, “you get your beauty sleep so that I can have another captivating day of listening to you give recommendations for people who enjoyed The Da Vinci Code.”
“You know you love it,” I said, walking off toward my bedroom.
“Sure you don’t want company?”
I glanced back at him and studied his face, the lovely lines of it and blue-green eyes like the Mediterranean of my youth. His expression was speculative, wry humor twisting his lips. I couldn’t entirely tell if he was joking. Or what his exact meaning was.
“Positive.”
My words were a little bolder than I felt, but the night passed uneventfully, again furthering the idea that my blue moods were the target. Consequently, this put me in a good mood when I went to work the next day. I even wore yellow in an attempt at further cheeriness and greeted my coworkers with such enthusiasm that Doug wanted to know what drugs I was taking—and if he could have some.
All of that changed when, while headed for the science fiction section, I felt something totally unwelcome: an immortal signature. A succubus immortal signature. And I knew exactly which succubus it belonged to. I did a 180, took a few steps, and tried to pinpoint its direction. Fiction.
I headed straight over there, and sure enough, there was Simone—with Seth. She wore that guise I’d heard reports of, the bookish—yet sexy—brunette. They were standing by Seth’s section, and she was holding up one of his paperbacks, Idiosyncraso. I knew she could feel my signature as I approached, but her eyes stayed on Seth, her conversation not missing a beat.
“You really wrote this in college?”
“Yup,” he said. “It wasn’t the first I had published, though. I shelved it for years before digging it out and revising it.”
“Cool,” she said, flipping through the pages. “I can’t wait to read it. It’ll give me something to do before your next one.”
“Well, don’t get your—oh, hey.”
Seth had spotted me. I came to a stop beside them, and Simone turned toward me politely.
“How’s it going?” I asked, voice harsher than I intended.
Seth, always sensitive to me, looked a little surprised at my tone but didn’t acknowledge it. “Fine. Georgina, this is Kelly. Kelly, Georgina. Georgina’s the manager here.”
“Hi, Kelly.”
I shook her hand with a hardness she matched, and we both continued grinning at each other like Stepford Wives.
“I met Kelly at a coffee shop,” said Seth mildly, not aware he was in succubus crossfire. “Told her she should see the store sometime.”
“It’s great,” said Simone, all adorable innocence. “I’m a big reader. I love all things books. And meeting one of my favorite authors has given me great insight.”
“Well,” said Seth, a little embarrassed at the attention. “I don’t know how much insight I’m really offering.”
Simone laughed. “Lots. I feel like I’m getting something from you each time I see you.”
“Have you seen each other a lot?” I asked.
“Kelly moved to Queen Anne,” said Seth. “So we keep running into each other.”
“It’s a great area,” I said. “Where do you live?”
Simone faltered. “Um, on Queen Anne.”
“Street, Avenue, or Drive?”
Seth seemed surprised at the interrogative style of the question. Simone turned nervous. “Eh, Avenue.”
Damn. Lucky guess. Queen Anne Street didn’t exist.
“Nice place.” Turning my back on her, I looked at Seth. “I came over because I heard someone say Maddie was looking for you.” That wasn’t true at all. Maddie wasn’t even in for another hour. I gave Simone a casual glance. “Maddie’s his fiancée.”
“I didn’t think she was in yet,” said Seth.
Why, of all days, would his memory be up and running today? “Maybe I misheard,” I said with a shrug. “But I figured you’d want to check.”
“I will,” he said, still a little puzzled. “I need to show Kelly one more book.”
She shot me a triumphant look, but I knew she’d accomplished nothing with Seth. He had that expression he got when he was so focused on something—in this case, the history of books—that he was distracted from the world. “Kelly” was a pleasant coincidence. Simone was too overconfident to notice.