"Enough," I said at that point. Her shallow, prejudiced values cloaked in so-called love and kindness unsettled the food in my stomach.

Bastien grinned. "Still think it's just one lay?"

I stretched back on my carpet, resting my feet on his lap. He massaged them for me. "I hate hypocrites, good or evil. Doesn't matter what they're touting."

"You should hear some of her background, some of the past issues she's advocated for with her group. Lovely stuff there—I researched her all day. I can pull it up for you. "

I held up a hand. "No, please. I believe you. The bitch must fall, okay? If I had a sword, I'd tap your shoulders and send you off with my blessings."

He lay down beside me. "Well, why don't you take a front-row seat then? Come to the party with me. I'm sure no one would mind if Mitch brought his sister."

"Party on the Eastside? My blessing only goes so far."

"Oh, come on. Admit it. You have a perverse desire to meet her in the flesh. Besides, it's been a while since you've seen me in action. You might pick up on a few things. Get some pointers."

Laughing, I rolled over on my side to better study him. "Like I need pointers from you."

He rolled to his side as well, smirking. "Yeah? Then prove it. Let's go out tonight. Let's go hunting."

My smile diminished. "What?"

"Just like the old days. We'll find some club, work up a sweat, then tag respective fixes for the night."

Bittersweet memories flashed into my brain, recalling the French cabarets of the nineteenth century. Bastien and I would go out in fine form, separate, and meet back in the morning to laugh and brag about our conquests. The game no longer held much appeal.

"I don't do that anymore. I told you that."

"Yeah, but you've still got to survive."

"I am surviving. I got a fix just a couple days ago. I'm set for a while. "

Bastien scowled. "A few days ago? Bleh. This writer guy's making you boring. "

"Hey, it has nothing to do with him. It's my choice."

"Sure."

"What's with the tone?"

"Not sure. I mean, I thought the whole writer-dating thing was amusing at first—even if he seems kind of dull and will probably only end up causing you pain. But now I'm starting to think it's indicative of a larger issue with you. I mean, there's the whole nice guy hang-up to begin with. Then you're, what? An assistant manager at a bookstore? Not to mention the fact that you have a cat."

Aubrey glared, and so did I. "There's nothing wrong with having a cat. And Seth isn't dull."

"I suppose you'd know better. He just didn't really strike me as much, that's all. If you wanted to obsess about a mortal, I could find you a better one."

"I don't want a better one. I mean, there is no better one. I want him."

"Suit yourself. You're just becoming ordinary, that's all. You used to be extraordinary."

"Ouch. All this because I won't go out with you tonight?"

Bastien shrugged.

"Okay then. We'll go. But no victim for me."

"Fair enough."

We went down to a club in Pioneer Square, both of us groomed to the kind of sexy, beautiful perfection that only an incubus and a succubus could achieve. I had pulled my hair up in messy, sex-kitten glory and wore a baby blue tank top with a V-neck that almost went to my belly button. The opening was covered in very sheer lace and made wearing a bra utterly pointless. So I didn't.

The tension between us evaporated as we hit the dance floor. The rhythm pulsed through me, the movement and sweat intoxicating. Bastien and I danced together for a while, both of us aware of the admirers we drew, even in a packed room like this. Physical attraction was about so much more than just superficial appearance. It was about eye contact, outgoingness, and movement too. Incubi and succubi learn this early on, and the good ones move with a grace few mortals can match. I, who had danced well before becoming a succubus, knew I was among the best when it came to body language. Watching us was irresistible. A turn-on in itself.

After a while, we split up. The results of the succubus game distressed me sometimes, but the game itself was fun. Very fun. I moved from partner to partner, thriving on the effect I created, on the desire I could see mounting in those whose bodies mine toyed with. It was why, despite my frequent bitching, I had given up my mortal soul for this vocation.

I confess, that the thought of going home with someone grew tantalizing, my body warming to the idea of someone's hands upon me, but then I thought about Seth and his determined adherence to the arrangement we'd entered into. No. No superfluous victims for me tonight. I could be good. I wanted to be good. I'd wait until I actually needed a recharge.

From across the room, Bastien inclined his head to me when he left the club, his arm around a small, entranced blonde. When he turned, I noticed a brunette in his other arm.

Overachiever.

It was two in the morning when I finally made it home. I woke aching and tired the next day, the weather making me feel worse. Rain formed a steady gray curtain as I walked to work. Everything seemed colder. I had been raised in a warm Mediterranean climate; I could never quite accept these kinds of temperatures.

When I showed up at the bookstore, it had once again opened without me. Oddly, though, despite exactly the same staff working today, I didn't get the same boisterous greetings as yesterday.

Casey and Janice, on the registers, paused in their work to watch me walk in, their expressions enigmatic. Janice leaned over, murmuring something in the other woman's ear. When they noticed my curious look, they both forced smiles. "Hey, Georgina."

"Hey," I responded, puzzled and slightly uncomfortable.

Passing by the information desk a moment later, I found Beth regarding me with an equally peculiar look.

"How's it going?" I asked when she didn't say anything.

"Fine." She hastily turned to the computer screen in front of her.

Now, I'd been subjected to my share of strange looks upon coming into work before, but this was weird even for me.

Sometimes, after being with a lover, their absorbed life energy gave me a glamour that unconsciously attracted mortals. It was the same glow that Hugh had teased me about during poker. That was not to blame now, however. My last fix, as I'd told Bastien, had occurred a few days ago. The glow would have weakened by now. Besides, I know entranced looks when I saw them. These were not it. These were curious, what-is-she-doing looks. The kind of looks you get when you have food on your face or a missing button. The likelihood of either of those seemed low, but I ducked into the restroom anyway, just to check.

Nope. Flawless. A long denim skirt and a navy, off-the-shoulder sweater. Both smooth and perfect. Makeup in place. Unbound hair hanging to the bottom of my shoulder blades. A typical look for me. Nothing to warrant this attention.

Assuming I was reading too much into things, I continued on to thecafe,getting a friendly nod from Seth as he worked in his corner. At least he was behaving normally.

A new barista bustled at the espresso bar, and she nearly dropped the cups she held upon seeing me.

"H-hi," she stammered out, wide-eyed, looking me over from head-to-toe.

"Hi," I returned. This woman didn't even know me. Why was she acting weirdly too? "Medium white-chocolate mocha."

It took her a moment to churn into action, writing my order on a cup. As she rang it up at the register, she asked curiously, "You're Georgina, right?"

"Um, yeah. Why?"

"Just heard of you, that's all." She looked back down.

She said no more to me after that, simply making and handing me the mocha. Taking it, I walked over to Seth and sat across from him. The barista continued watching us with interest, though she immediately turned away upon catching my eye.