Mallory of Strange Valley (Strange Valley Immortals #1) (5 page)

“What does an Incubus scut look like, anyway?” Claire asked. All Immortals had heard the raunchy rumors about the things Incubi did with their tail stubs, but Mallory didn’t know whether there was any truth to them.

“No idea, I’ve never really seen one.” Mallory thought back to the times Asher had flashed his true demon form at her, but it had always been a front view. Or he’d moved to quickly and she hadn’t thought to look.

“So what would happen if two sex demons did the nasty?”

Mallory shrugged. “Supposedly it’s extremely weakening. Both of them would come out of it completely drained of life force.” Sex between Immortals was perfectly acceptable in most cases—and very common—but intercourse between two sex demons was forbidden.

“But it’s not like you’d extinguish or anything.” Claire’s voice lowered a little when she uttered the term for Immortal true death.

“Well, I guess you could if you took it too far. That’s worst-case. Best case, you’re left too weak to go hunting and replenish your strength.”

Claire frowned. “Yikes, that’s no good.”

Even Claire had the sense to realize that a supernaturally awesome screw wasn’t worth the vulnerability. There were predators out there. The Rogaru, of course, but the Council had kept the Rogaru under control for centuries. There were legends of a species known only as Darkest Ones, who preyed on weakened Immortals. Whenever an Immortal expired unexpectedly and without explanation, rumors of Darkest Ones resurfaced. Unexplained deaths happened a lot more than any of them wanted to acknowledge. Even Immortals had nightmares.

Claire’s frown changed to a musing expression as she watched Asher. “Still, it’s almost tempting. What do you think would happen if a Sylph fucked a sex demon?”

Mallory rolled her eyes and grinned. “Have you ever done it? Sex with another Immortal?” There was a lot about Claire she didn’t know. Her friend had been Immortal half a century longer than Mallory had, but she didn’t talk about her past much.

“When I was newly-turned, I fucked just about every kind of Immortal there is. You know, newbie curiosity. I gave a were a blowjob last year, but that’s it in the recent past,” Claire said. “I prefer mortals. Immortals are too jaded. And besides, you can’t glamour an Immortal. It’s a lot more fun with glamour.”

Mallory wasn’t sure she agreed. She glamoured her victims as little as possible because she thought the sex was better when the other person was acting under his own power, to the extent that he could, anyway. Even without glamouring them, her victims’ memories of being with her began to fade immediately after she left them.

Mallory glanced at her phone. Just a few minutes before afternoon classes would begin. They gathered up their trash and purses.

As Mallory dumped her burrito wrapper and soda cup in the garbage can, she glanced across the Green where Asher had been holding court. He stood there, ignoring the gaggle of glassy-eyed students around him, staring straight at her as if waiting to catch her eye. He flashed his demon form, and this time instead of a posture of challenge it was a wings-lowered crouch of contrition. Just as quickly, he straightened and flashed back to his blond surfer-boy form, turned, and strode toward the west end of campus.

Asher was sorry about something? She couldn’t imagine what he would want to apologize for, but clearly he wanted to talk. She tried to ignore the faint warmth of lust radiating through her.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Mallory waited in the dark on a bench not far from Asher’s apartment. She figured he’d sense her, or see her, and there’d be no need to make an entrance to get his attention. She pulled her jacket tighter around her and folded her arms to hold it in place. Tilting her head back, she scanned the sky for stars, but the city lights obscured all but a couple of the brightest.

She sighed and lowered her gaze. In the small town where she’d grown up as a mortal, she’d been able to make out constellations from just about any spot, as long as the sky was free of clouds. Late October during her final autumn as a mortal was probably the last time she’d looked at the stars this way. Small town life wasn’t conducive to the needs of a Succubus, so she’d lived in or near larger cities ever since she’d turned.

But that last autumn before she’d turned, she’d taken her little sister trick-or-treating in their neighborhood. Marjorie had been a surprise, born nearly ten years after Mallory.

That Halloween Marjorie had been nine years old and dressed up as a butterfly with gossamer wings suspended on re-purposed wire hangers, and Mallory stood at the end of each walk while she scampered up to the door and did her trick-or-treat routine. Mallory had held her hand as they walked between houses, always her protector even though there was no traffic to speak of on the neighborhood streets. Her sister had shared a little box of Lemonheads because she knew they were Mallory’s favorite.

“Lost in the past?” Asher’s silky voice made her jump, and his sudden presence at her side set her heart galloping.

She fluttered her fingers and tried to look bored. “Eh, nothing important.”

She eyed him, admiring the easy way he lounged on the bench, how he looked like a model in a cologne ad with his chiseled features and spiky faux-hawked hair. She forced her gaze away and clamped her arms tighter around herself. She wasn’t going to talk until he did. He was the one who’d called this little meeting.

He settled back and drew a deep breath in through his nose, then let it out through his mouth. Mallory’s eyes crept back to his face. His expression relaxed just a fraction, as if the breath had cleansed him of some tension he kept well-hidden.

“What do you remember about the months before you turned?” He asked, his eyes still trained upward.

Mallory scowled a little. Really? They were going to take a trip down memory lane?

She huffed an exasperated sigh. “I turned in August 1958, a couple months after I graduated high school. I can’t remember the month or so before I turned.”

Asher seemed unsurprised at this. Strange.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“It was summer. I was doing teenage things. Hanging out with my friends at the lake. Working part-time at the library. Thinking about going to secretarial school.”

“Tell me about your friends. The people you knew.”

She stared at him in stubborn silence.

“Aw, come on, Mallory.” He actually looked a little bit... hopeful? Sheepish? “I promise there’s a point to this.”

“Fine,” she growled. She lifted her eyes to the tree line, over the mature maples at the edge of the apartment complex property, pulling at memories that had been tucked away for many years. “There was Nancy, my best friend since third grade. Marla and Denise, sisters who lived next door to me. We always had Thanksgiving dinner with them. Umm... sometimes Nancy and I hung out with Sharon and Kay, who lived on the other side of town and were in our ballet class. There were other girls, too, but those girls were my good friends.”

“What about boys?”

“Boys? Sure, there were boys. But they were acquaintances, not close friends.”

“Anybody special you were interested in?”

She frowned as something tickled at the back of her mind. A face or name? No, a scent. Gardenia. She tried to grasp at its meaning, but couldn’t quite hold it.

“I don’t think so,” she said. The hollow feeling in her chest began its familiar ache.

“Hmmm . . . .” Asher stared at the ground in front of them and sighed almost imperceptibly.

She scooted to the edge of the bench and tensed her legs, ready to stand up. “Okay, now you need to give it up. Why am I sitting here?”

“I know this is annoying you. But I really just want you to . . . .”

“What?” she burst out, then glanced around to make sure she hadn’t drawn any attention. But they were alone.

In a blur, Asher moved to her, his knee pressing into her thigh. His lips touched hers, and his fingers wrapped around her neck under her hair, gently holding her face to his. It wasn’t the lusty kiss of a sex demon. It was soft, almost innocent. But the rush of energy that passed between them was anything but gentle. It was like clinging to a life raft in the middle of a hurricane. Energy swirled through her, electrifying every cell, and a roar like a high wind filled her ears.

He pulled away, and the noise and tingles receded. “. . . remember,” he finished.

He stood and shed his clothes with speed-blurred motions, changed to his demon form, and took flight with three waves of his black wings.

Mallory’s hair billowed around her shoulders, and her eyes watered in the back draft of air. She could have chased after him, but she didn’t want to move. She sat on the bench until the sensation of his hands soft against the skin of her neck, and the lightening that had passed between them, faded.

Then her entire body jolted, and the threat of tears pushed behind her eyes. She swiped an angry hand down her face. What was there to cry about?

A rush of heat spread through her. She needed to get laid.

Right now.

CHAPTER NINE

The cool night air washed over Mallory as she flew through the suburbs, cleansing her of the unexplained swell of emotion she’d felt with Asher. Even though she’d driven to Asher’s apartment complex, she needed to feel the rush of air in her face. But it did nothing to subdue her desire.

Humming a few bars of
I Can’t Help Myself
by the Four Tops, she dipped her left wing and angled herself east to seek out Mark, a guy she’d flirted with at school, who lived not far from here. He was tall, and had the easy demeanor of the surfer clique. She’d been saving him because she had a feeling that unlike Jared and many others like him, he’d know
exactly
what to do with her body.

She lit softly on the grass in front of Mark’s house, and changed back to her human form. She glanced up and down the dark street, taking in the slightly shabby houses. Mark lived in a one-story house with drooping planter boxes beneath the front windows. It couldn’t be more than two bedrooms, maybe three very small ones.

She stole around the left side of the house, where dim light bathed a bare dirt strip. She could sense Mark’s vitality, and it looked like he might be awake. She smiled in anticipation and crept up to the window. Cheap metal blinds were drawn, but the slats were so bent and uneven she could see into the room through the cracks. Mark lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his arms folded behind his head. He wore flannel pajama pants slung low on his hips, showing off his smooth, tanned chest and abs. Soft music—reggae?—was barely audible. The only illumination came from a metal task lamp on a small, unpainted pressboard desk.

She tapped gently on the window, and he started to a half-sitting position and looked her way.

“Mark?” she said, loud enough he could hear, but she hoped not loud enough to attract the attention of the next door neighbor or anyone in Mark’s house. “It’s Mallory. From school.”

He came to the window and raised the blinds, and then pushed the window open. His abs and biceps flexed and she grinned.

“Mallory?” If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. A cute half-smile played across his face. “Want to come in?”

He held out his hand and she took it as she ducked through the window. She was wearing her usual mini skirt, and probably flashed him when she swung her leg over the window sill, but she didn’t really care. One of the many advantages of being a Succubus was that guys’ memories of being with her tended to dull in a way that meant they wouldn’t blab about her. Essentially, it meant she could pretty much be as slutty as she wanted to be and not suffer any consequences to her reputation. Heck, she
had
to be slutty to survive.

She stood in his room, which was small but fairly neat. A five foot surfboard leaned against the wall next to the closed door. The walls were decorated with a couple of surf movie posters and some psychedelic Rastafarian art posters.

She looked down at his hand, still holding hers after he’d steadied her when she climbed through the window. His palm was warm and dry against hers, the back of his hand tanned a golden brown. She tried not to think about Asher. She focused on the sexy V formed by Mark’s abs and hips, like a muscular beacon pointing downward.

“So what’s up?” he said. He released her hand and returned to his bed, where he lounged on his side. The way his eyes slid up and down her body said he knew exactly what she wanted.

“Oh, you know. I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by.” Lust filled her, and the primal urge seemed to saturate her brain, transforming her into a more sensual, aggressive version of herself.  She licked her lips and gave him a seductive smile.

He patted the space on the bed in front of his chest in invitation, and in a blur she moved to him, on top of him, stretching her body over his. She needed to lose herself in a mortal’s heat.

His arms wrapped around her back and then slid down to cup her ass, and he pulled her against him as their mouths collided. He was already granite-hard.

He slid his hands under her skirt, his flesh against hers, and she pushed her tongue into his mouth, moaning. Yes, this was just what she needed. A hard come with a hot guy. She could forget all about Asher and his secrets.

She sat up, straddling Mark, her palms pressed against his smooth chest. He unzipped her short-sleeved hoodie, pulled it down her arms, and tossed it to the floor, baring her upper body. He grasped her breasts in his warm hands and brushed his thumbs over her nipples, and a sigh of pleasure escaped her lips.

“You like that?” he whispered, and pinched her nipples. The heat between her legs burst into an inferno. She couldn’t wait much longer.

“I’ve been looking forward to you,” Mallory crooned. “To this.” She cupped the hot bulge between his legs, and his erection flexed at her touch. She fingered the ridges around the head of his cock through the flannel, and he moaned as precum saturated the fabric.