Hearing Cedric assure me I couldn't die lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. I left the Cellar with much less anxiety, though I still had no intention of doing anything that might test how exactly we'd heal from decapitation. So, while I still operated with caution, I no longer felt suffocated or threatened by every aspect of the world.
Rather than go home, I drove down to Dante's shop. His store/apartment was in Rainier Valley, on the southeast side of Seattle. He had no regularly posted hours for his assorted "psychic" services, but he would usually hang around there at night if he had nothing else to do. It tended to be the time drunk people or couples out on dates (or high teens) would wander in looking for fun and novelty. Daytime business hours didn't generally bring out that many who were seeking help from the divine unless, perhaps, it was someone seeking advice on stock trading.
Dante had no customers tonight, however. The shop and its flickering neon sign seemed sad and lonely. I pushed through the unlocked door and found him leaning against the checkout counter, leafing through a copy of Maxim .
"What gives?" I asked. "Your subscription to Frauds and Scams Weekly run out?"
He glanced up at me with a smile, flipping black hair out of his face. "Just needed something pretty to look at since I didn't know when I'd be seeing you again."
I planted a kiss on his cheek. "Holy shit. That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."
"Yeah, well, I can make some filthy sexual suggestions to you if you'd prefer."
"What, and ruin foreplay for next time?"
This made his grin grow, and he shut the magazine. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Shouldn't you be visiting our neighbors to the north? Or is that done? I honestly can't keep track."
"Well. About that." God, how I was going to explain what had happened? Had all of this seriously happened in just one day? It felt like a year had gone by since I got woozy in the car. "Something strange happened today."
"Strange like you sold out of Jane Austen books at the store or strange like the rules of time and space as we know them are about to be ripped apart?"
"Mmm...more like that last one."
"Shit."
I took a deep breath, figuring I should just get the big stuff out of the way. "There's no easy way to put this, but...I'm not a succubus anymore."
"I never believed you were a succubus."
I groaned. That had been an old joke between us when we'd first met. Oh, the irony. "I'm serious," I said. "No more succubus. And Jerome's disappeared too, possibly opening up Seattle to a new demonic reign."
Dante stared at me, eyes speculative as he assessed me for the truth. He was speechless for the first time I'd known him. Not waiting for more witty commentary, I plunged forward. I explained about the summoning, what it had done to all of us lesser immortals, how demons everywhere were now sizing up Seattle, and why I needed to find Jerome as soon as possible.
When I finally finished, it took Dante several moments to gather his thoughts. "So...you've seriously lost your succubus powers?"
"Abilities," I corrected. "And yes, I have. Are you saying that after all that other stuff I just told you about the balance of power in Seattle, my succubus status is what caught your attention the most?"
He shrugged. "You gotta admit it's weird. Besides, that other stuff doesn't affect me. You do." His eyes narrowed. "Am I going to have to use a condom now?"
"What? No. Of course not."
"You sure?"
"You've never batted an eye over me stealing pieces of your soul these last few months, but the nonexistent threat of child support suddenly scares you?"
"Well, yeah, seeing as my bank account's got more in it than my soul."
I glanced around the shabby room. "Debatable."
"Cute," he conceded. "But I'd be asking a few more questions about all of this if I were you. Like, can you die?"
"I already asked that one," I said smugly. "And the answer is no. Our immortal bodies are still essentially the same. We're just cut off from all the perks." I hoped he didn't ask about decapitation because I honestly wasn't in the mood to debate that.
"Okay, so what do you want from me?" he asked.
"What makes you think I want anything?"
He looked at me.
"Okay, maybe I do want something. But come on, who else would know more about this stuff than you?"
"Who knows more about demons? Hmm, let me think. I know. How about the demons you work for , the ones who are all-powerful and have been around since the beginning of time?"
"They're not all-powerful. Otherwise they wouldn't need a human for the summoning-or end up getting summoned in the first place. And that's what I need you for. There can't be that many humans in the area capable of doing this, are there? You have to know who they are."
Dante opened his mouth, no doubt with a snappy reply ready, and then abruptly closed it. "I don't know," he said slowly. "I don't keep track of those things."
I leaned toward him, incredulous. "Of course you do! Do you not want to tell me? Why?"
He sighed, his hesitant expression turning typically annoyed. "Because those kinds of people get pissed off if you start advertising their names."
"What, you're afraid they're going to come beat you up?"
"No. Not exactly. But there's sort of...a professional courtesy in these circles."
"I'll be discreet. I won't tell them where I got the information."
"Most of them already know we're together. They'd figure it out. They keep an eye on those kinds of things." He turned considering. "Of course, in that same vein, a lot of them know you as a succubus and might just think you knew through your own connections."
He still seemed hesitant, so I played a mean card. "Well, I can always go ask Erik if you're too nervous about it."
Erik was another mortal in town who dealt with the occult and paranormal. Unlike Dante, who was a practitioner, Erik simply studied and built up knowledge of the magical undercurrents in the city. He had a psychic's gifts and was attuned to what most human eyes didn't see. Sometimes he could even see what immortals couldn't. He and Dante had an old, old grudge and didn't enjoy being around each other, to put it mildly.
My attempt to bait Dante didn't work, though. "Don't even try it, succubus. Making me jealous of the old man won't make me help you."
I looked up at him pleadingly. "What will make you help me?"
He traced the outline of my lips with his fingertip, gray eyes wicked and thoughtful. "Not sure it's anything you can do while cut off from your super-secret powers. You're not a sex goddess anymore."
"Hey, I don't need super-secret powers to be a sex goddess."
Just then, three twentysomethings stumbled in, staring wide-eyed at the shop as they tried to stifle nervous giggles. They undoubtedly had the same kind of potential that high teens did. I gave Dante one last frantic plea. "Please? Just give me the names. You don't have to do anything else. And I won't say anything. I swear it."
Dante scowled, glanced at me, at the potential customers, and then back at me. He told them he'd be with them in a minute and then hastily jotted four names down on a scrap of paper. Two of them I recognized.
"Thank you," I said. I beamed, and to my surprise, something in his cynical expression softened a little.
"God, that smile," he muttered. "You might just be right."
"About what?"
"You really don't need any powers to be a sex goddess. Your hair's a little messy, though." He walked around the counter and gave me a quick half-hug. "Be safe, succubus. Don't test the limits of that not-dying thing."
"And buy some condoms?" I teased.
He shrugged. "You're the one who was having prophetic dreams about having kids a little while ago." Turning away from me, he put on his jovial con-man persona and beckoned the group over with pitches about palms and Tarot.
He'd spoken the words in a light, off-hand kind of way, but as I slowly walked back to my car, they slapped me in the face.
Prophetic dreams...
Nyx's dreams.
The things she'd shown me during that time had been so vivid that they seemed almost more real than my own life. The thing is, by almost all accounts, Nyx had a grasp on the future and could show people things that would happen to them. That was how she spread chaos in the world, by showing people these visions and making them think they knew how their futures would unfold. Unfortunately, while the visions came true, they never came true the way their victims thought they would. She'd led a lot of people to their deaths that way.
Nonetheless, it seemed fairly clear that the dreams she'd sent to me had been distractions, not destructive images of what would come. In my visions, she'd shown me-over and over-with a daughter, waiting for a man I loved to come home. The dreams had consumed me, almost making me want to sleep and have my energy taken each night. As I'd noted while holding Kayla, there was no way any piece of the vision could ever happen to me. I couldn't have any sort of relationship like that. And I certainly couldn't have a daughter, not of my own blood. Immortals didn't reproduce. When I'd sold my soul for immortality and shape-shifting, I'd given up certain aspects of my humanity. There could be no child for me. Not ever.
And yet...
I came to a stop on the sidewalk, still about a block away from my car. What if Dante had inadvertently stumbled onto something? What if being in this stasis had altered that piece of me that had lost the ability to conceive? Cedric had said I was still technically immortal, but he'd also said my body would respond and heal like a human's. What all did that entail? Would unprotected sex lead to conception? Is that what Nyx's visions had been pointing to? She'd sworn she'd shown me the truth. Had she?
I was breathing fast again, though at least this time, I knew I didn't have to worry about giving myself a heart attack. Okay. I needed to calm down. This pregnancy possibility was as distracting as the hooking-up-with-Seth possibility. I'd never get anything accomplished if I lost myself in fantasies.
With a sigh, I glanced down at Dante's piece of paper, now crumpled in my hand. I'd clenched it into a ball without even realizing it as I walked. I'd been too preoccupied to even notice...
Babies and Seth. The things I wanted most.
I forced myself to keep moving toward my car. But as I unlocked the door, I had to wonder ruefully if maybe I shouldn't be so quick to get Jerome back after all.
I started following up on Dante's leads the next morning. Leaving my place was a little harder than I'd expected, though. Despite the fact I got ready plenty of mornings without shape-shifting, my closet seemed terribly small. And while my hair seemed fine when I finished it, I had a feeling it'd be frizzy the next time I checked the mirror. The only bright part was when I found Dante's watch under the bed. I thought I'd lost it yesterday, so at least my accessories collection was still respectable. Nonetheless, I had a feeling I was soon going to discover just how much I'd come to rely on my abilities.
Locating addresses from Dante's list of names required a little sleuthing here and there, but for the most part, I didn't have much difficulty finding them. Unfortunately, once found, these magicians weren't exactly helpful.
One of the ones I visited knew me. She was familiar with Hell's local servants, and while she gave me a small degree of respect, she was as hesitant to answer questions as Dante had insinuated. Two of the other names were people who didn't know me, and that immediately created a problem. With my succubus powers shut off, I had no immortal signature, and both of these people were the types who could sense that. Me coming in and claiming to be a succubus was met with scorn and disbelief. I managed to glean some information from them but nothing of any use.
Equally difficult was that not only could they not sense me, I couldn't sense them. Admittedly, a succubus didn't have the same ability to gauge human power the way a full-fledged demon could, but I could occasionally sense magic around a person or object. Today, I was completely blind. I had to rely on my strength to read people, but these dark magicians were as good at cons as Dante. They were well-versed in the art of concealing the truth.
It was almost noon by the time I visited the last name, a guy named Greg. I felt pretty discouraged by this point and even cracked and had a cigarette along the way. Greg had no storefront like Dante and mostly worked his spells out of his house, a small bungalow in Wallingford. When he answered the door, his disheveled state told me I'd woken him up. On the bright side, he recognized me, which meant I wouldn't have to convince him I was a succubus.
"What do you want?" he asked suspiciously. He was built big and could have had an impressive physique if he'd ever gone to the gym. It was obvious he hadn't.
"I wanted to talk to you about demon summoning."
"I don't know anything about it."
He started to shut the door. I stuck my foot out to block it. "Wait. Do you know anyone who would?"
"No. And even if I did, what makes you think I'd tell you?" He tried to close the door again, then paused. He narrowed his already too-small eyes at me. "There's something weird about you. No aura."
I didn't answer right away. "Maybe you're losing your touch."
This actually brought a small smile. "Not likely. What happened? Who got summoned?"
"No one. And even if they did, what makes you think I'd tell you?" I mimicked.
He laughed, a guttural sound that came from low in his throat. When the laughter faded, he studied me for several long seconds, face cunning and speculative. "Okay. I'll talk to you." He pushed the door open. "Come on in."
I gingerly stepped into his living room. The place was a disaster. Dirty dishes were piled on the coffee table, the remains of food hardened and crusty. Dust coated every piece of furniture, and the wood floor looked like it hadn't been swept since the last century. Uneasily, I wondered if my new humanlike body was susceptible to germs.
Several books were piled on the couch, their covers meant to look sinister in shades of black and red with drawings of pentagrams. It put me in mind of Evan's faux Satanic accoutrements, though as hard as it was to believe, Evan had a thousand times more class than this guy.
Greg offered me neither a chair nor refreshments, which was fine by me. He stood in front of me, arms crossed. "Well? What do you want to know?"
"I want to know if you've done any demon summoning lately."
"Not that any demons have been summoned, of course."
"This is speculative," I replied with a simpering smile. I studied as much of his home as I could while I spoke. Beyond him, I could see an equally messy kitchen with a gas stove and magnet-covered refrigerator.
"You think if I'd summoned a demon, I'd be living like this? Fuck, I'd have plasma-screen TVs and concubines."
I recalled the discussion with my friends, noting that any human who'd summoned Jerome would simply keep the demon hidden and not use it for personal gain and errands. Still, if Greg had summoned Jerome on behalf of another demon, there would have been some reward involved. Maybe it wouldn't entail TVs or concubines, but it seemed like there'd be some sign of a windfall here. Maybe he'd gotten a Swiss bank account.
"Okay. You know anyone who recently acquired concubines?"
"Nope. But I can give you some names of people who'd be more likely." He listed two of the magicians I'd already visited.
"I've talked to them."
"Sorry. Not my problem." My eyes returned to the books on the couch. I stepped toward them. "May I?"
"Knock yourself out."
I picked up one of the books, skimming through it in hopes of finding information about summoning. Nope. It was fluffy "evil" stuff, exactly like the Army of Darkness' propaganda. The second book proved the same. The third, however, was a legitimate spell book, filled with the kind of dark rites Dante practiced. Hopeful, I flipped through the pages one by one. It had some vile contents, but there was nothing about summoning. Greg's willingness to let me browse the books should have been a tip-off that they contained nothing of use.
"All done?"
I jerked around. Greg's voice was close to me-too close. I'd had my back to him while checking out the books, but now he was right behind me. I took a few steps back and bumped the couch.
"Yeah," I said nervously. "Thanks for the help. I should leave now."
"Not yet," he said, moving closer. "You just got here."
I tried to wriggle off to the side, but his hands suddenly reached out and grabbed a hold of my arms, pinning me into place.
"What are you doing?" I demanded. There went my heart rate again.
"I don't know what's going on with all this summoning stuff, but I do know there's a succubus here who doesn't feel like a succubus anymore, which probably means you can't fight like one."
I tried to break from his grasp, but his hands were like steel. "You're crazy. Of course I'm a succubus. You know I am."
"Yeah? Then shape-shift away from me. Turn into a bird. Turn into a bodybuilder."
I clenched my teeth and tried to shake his hold again. "Let me go, you son of a bitch. You hurt me, and a whole host of demons are going to show up and rip you limb from limb."
"Not so sure about that," he chuckled. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. You think any succubus would fuck someone like me?"
He shoved me down onto the couch, one strong arm pinning me in place while the other hand fumbled awkwardly under my shirt and grabbed a hold of my breast. Moving his head close, he tried to press his lips against mine, but I turned my head just in time.
"Let me go!" I screamed. I managed to wriggle a leg free and knee him in the gut. It wasn't enough to free me, but it made him scowl.
I'd worried about getting hit by cars, meteors, and structurally unsound overpasses. Never, never had I thought about being raped. It hadn't been a fear of mine for centuries, not since I realized I could shape-shift into someone larger and stronger, someone capable of throwing off any assailant.
Maybe it shouldn't have bothered me so much. I'd had sex with plenty of people I didn't like over the years. I'd always grimaced and waited it out. But there was something about this that was different. It wasn't my choice, and compounding it all was the feeling of helplessness I had. I hated not having options. I hated not being able to think my way out of something. There was nothing to be done, though. Not this time.
The most I could do was keep struggling and flailing. I did have some self-defense training, after all. I'd learned to use weapons and punch over the years. I'd nailed Niphon pretty good at Christmas. Unfortunately, what I could do now was limited with Greg on me like this. He simply outweighed me. Still, my efforts must have proven annoying because Greg growled and grabbed both my arms in an attempt to flip me over. I yelled profanities at him and got another knee-jab in, close to his groin but not close enough.
And that's when it happened.
The smell hit me first. An overwhelming and suffocating odor of natural gas. I stopped struggling for half a second. I didn't need to be human to know that meant trouble.
Before I could process that further, the kitchen exploded into flames.
Fire expanded out into the living room. It didn't quite reach us, but I think Greg must have still gotten burned because he screamed in pain and released his hold on me. His body had shielded the worst from me, and mostly all I felt was a rolling wave of heat and air.
I didn't bother to think or question anything. Greg had released me in his confusion, and I bolted. I scrambled from the couch and ran out the front door, away from the fire. Away from Greg.
I drove off as fast as I could, my Passat's tires squealing on the pavement. Sweat poured off me, and my hands could barely grip the steering wheel through their shaking. About a mile away, I heard the singing of sirens, but I couldn't spare a thought for what had happened. I couldn't think about whether Greg had made it out or not. I couldn't think about how a gas leak had miraculously saved me.
The only thing I could think about now was getting away and getting to safety.