Succubi Are Forever (5 page)

Remy glanced in, grunted, and then looped her arm around my waist again. “Let’s check out your room, Jackie.”

She pinched my side as soon as Yue turned further down the corridor.

“What?” I hissed.

“What’s the plan?”

An outraged squeak erupted from my throat. “I don’t have a plan—”

Yue turned and glanced back at us, and Remy and I fell silent. “This way,” she said with a graceful gesture and opened a door at the end of the hall. “Phryne saved the best room for you. She wants you to feel welcome.”

“Gosh, that is really nice of her,” I said, feigning enthusiasm. I slid out of Remy’s clingy embrace and into the gorgeous room. A princess bed dominated the room, high upon a dais. A cream-colored canopy attached to the wall and then glided downward to the posts of the bed in a decadent swirl. A dozen fringed pillows topped the head of the bed, and the carpet on the floor was thick and plush and expensive-looking. Red draperies lined the walls, a stark contrast to the cream colors of the bed. There was an entertainment center on the far wall, fully stocked, and an adjoining bathroom that I suspected would be just as spectacular as the room.

It was a very pretty prison. And Zane was not here, which meant that I was not staying.

Remy began to play with my hair, her hand moving to the hooks in the back of my dress and beginning to undo them. “So,” she said in a husky voice. “Where do you girls keep the sex toys? This one’s going to be skittish unless I give her a good ride.”

God, I wanted to fall through the floor. Especially when Remy slapped my flanks as if I was a horse she was gentling. “Quit jumping.”

Yue smiled and gestured to a bureau nearby, turning her back to us. “Each room has a fully functional set of dildos and vibrators. Simply leave them out for the staff and they’ll clean them for you and replace them.”

As she spoke, Remy jabbed me in the back with her finger and gestured at the draperies dangling from the bed.

“What?” I whispered. What was I supposed to do?

She waved a hand wildly at them and stomped on my foot with her heel.

“Ow!”

Yue turned back to glance at us, raising a brow.

Remy reached out and tweaked my nipple—hard. I slapped her hand away, outraged, but Remy slapped me back, giving me a sultry grin. “Meee-ow. I keep forgetting you’re a pain bitch.” Before I could protest, she turned to Yue. “You got any nipple clamps in there?”

Yue turned back to the bureau and pulled open the first drawer, studying the contents. “I’m not sure, but I imagine it’s a request we can accommodate.”

Remy pinched my arm again, and I turned to her with a frown. What the hell did she want? But this time, she flicked her hand toward the door, and my gaze went there. It had opened just a crack, and a tall, bronzed figure in black leather strode in, a ponytail of wild black dreads high on her head. Her cheeks were covered with swirling designs, and the belt slung at her waist gleamed with metal weapons.

I froze at the sight of her, but she seemed to be heading straight for Yue. She glanced over at Remy and I noticed the odd, bright silver of her eyes in her dark bronze face. Another succubus. She gestured for Remy to be quiet.

Remy shoved past me, moving to Yue’s side. “Well, what do you have if not clamps?”

Yue reached into the drawer, gesturing at something. “You could always try—”

The tall woman in leather moved up behind Yue, grabbed the other woman by the sides of her face. Yue’s eyes widened with recognition for just a fraction of time before the tall woman wrenched her head to the side. Quick. Rough. There was an audible snap, and then Yue fell to the floor in a boneless heap.

My jaw dropped and I flinched backward.

Remy stepped to the side of the fallen woman and clutched her stomach, gagging. “Ugh. That was seriously gross, Sophie. I practically felt her vertebrae snap and I didn’t even touch her.”

The tall woman named Sophie stared at Remy with unblinking eyes. “That is why I am the assassin, Remiza.”

“True, that,” Remy said with a shudder. “Thanks for coming to our rescue.”

“It is not your safety I am concerned about so much as my own,” she said with a hard smile that showed even white teeth. Her voice had a musical, thick accent that I couldn’t place.

I couldn’t stop staring at her. I looked at Yue, crumpled on the floor, then at the woman standing over her. “Who are you? What the fuck did you just do?”

Sophie arched an eyebrow at me. “I broke her neck.” She looked over at Remy. “Is this one touched?”

Remy shook her head, hands on her hips. “Nah. Just really new. Jackie, this is Sophie. I’m guessing she’s on our side today.”

Our side?
Today?
I moved to Remy’s side, staring at the new succubus. They’d set a plate for her at dinner. Talked about her as if she were one of their sisterhood. Why was she helping us? I studied her—tall and beautiful, and strong. She wore a short leather vest that buttoned over her breasts and left her arms and abdomen exposed, and every inch of her beautiful bronzed skin was covered in darker, swirling tattoos. Henna tattoos, I realized. Her face had henna tattoos on the high cheekbones as well, and one across her forehead. Her thick black hair had been twisted into a nest of dreadlocks that had been gathered high and stuck out at odd angles. Her legs were clad in tight leather pants that showcased perfectly curving hips and a jillion weapons.

I shook my head, trying to absorb this. “I don’t understand—”

The words died in my throat as Sophie rolled her eyes.

Remy grasped my arm and leaned in, her gaze still on Sophie. “Look, kid. Yue’s a couple thousand years old and she’s cute as a button, but she’s also batshit crazy. All of them are. We have to get out of here, and you didn’t have a plan. I’m glad Sophie showed up.” She nudged the fallen woman with her shoe, wrinkling her nose.

Sophie inclined her head, taking Remy’s words as a compliment. “It was clear you would not be saving yourselves.”

“Double true,” Remy said with a sigh. “So what’s the plan?”

“You snapped her neck! You could have just put her to sleep!”

“Nu-uh,” Remy said, stepping over Yue and heading to the closest dresser, searching the drawers. “Someone’d have to come back to wake her up, and I have a feeling Sophie’s not going to be welcome after this.”

“Yue will hold a grudge,” Sophie agreed, studying her fingernails as if bored.

Well, hell
yes
she’d hold a grudge. If it was me, I’d be furious too.

“Do not feel too bad for her,” Sophie said, arching an eyebrow at me and turning toward the door. “Yue is quite proficient in poisons. I have no doubt that once Phryne determined that you are not happy to have your master imprisoned here, she would have slipped you something that would have disabled you until they could find a delicate way to dispose of your master and remove your choice from you. That is, after all, how they pulled in Marguerite.”

The sad-eyed blonde at dinner. I stared at Sophie.

“Besides,” Remy pointed out. “I don’t know if you noticed, but they’re all gung ho for girl power and not so much for guys. So unless you’d like to spend the next millennia eating clams and watching men get tortured for fun, we have to move.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, raising my hands. “You win. Let’s get out of here.”

Sophie pulled a length of cord from a pocket and threw it at me. “Tie Yue’s hands with this. Remiza, find something for a gag. We don’t want to take our chances that she can heal before we get away.”

I stood over the fallen woman, my skin crawling, rope in hand. “I still can’t believe we just broke her neck.”

Sophie’s laugh was low, melodious. “You are quite young, aren’t you? These people stole you for a reason, little one. They are not going to play nice. In fact, no one is going to play nice. If you do, you’re going to find yourself quickly outmaneuvered.”

I swallowed hard and finished binding Yue’s hands. As I watched, Remy moved over and shoved a pair of socks into Yue’s mouth, then tugged a frilly pair of thong underwear over the woman’s mouth to hold them in place. “Come on, let’s dump her in the closet.”

We did. Yue was surprisingly heavy—she was deadweight and we were both wimps. Sophie didn’t seem inclined to help, watching the hall through a crack in the door as we struggled with the body of her friend.

“Why is she helping us?” I asked Remy as we shoved Yue’s bound legs into the closet.

“Long story,” Remy hissed back. “Tell you later.” She raised a pinky into the air. “Pinky swear.”

Once Yue was situated, Remy grabbed a pair of candlesticks off a dresser and handed one to me. “Here. Weapon.”

I looked at Sophie’s belt, full of knives and throwing stars. “Can’t we just borrow one of hers?”

An amused smile curved Sophie’s full mouth. “No.”

Well, fine then.

“Shall we go retrieve your master?” Sophie asked me.

“My page, too,” I pointed out. “Phryne stole that from me and I need it.” It was absolutely vital to finding one of the haloes, and the closest I’d come so far.

“Phryne has that page locked away. She thinks that holding it hostage will keep you here.” Sophie tilted her head, dreadlocks bouncing. “Will you prove her right?”

I sighed heavily. “No. I want Zane and I want out of here, in that order.”

Remy patted my shoulder. “We’ll figure out some other way to get the page, Jacks. Don’t you worry.”

We fell in step behind Sophie. Armed with candlesticks, we crept down the hall after the tall succubus. She walked with quick, ground-eating strides. Confident. Unafraid. Meanwhile, Remy and I crouched and slunk down the hall after her. I glanced over at my friend as Sophie paused at the entrance of a door, cracking it open a hair, checking for occupants. She gestured for us to stay in place, and slipped into the room.

“How do you know Sophie?” I asked Remy quietly, wincing as I heard another too-loud crack come from the other room. God, I hoped that wasn’t someone else’s neck.

Remy jabbed me in the gut with the candlestick. “Be quiet.”

“She’s not going to leave anyone in that room to hear us, dummy. Just tell me.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “This isn’t my first run-in with Phryne and friends, Chatty Cathy. Trust me when I say they’re assholes. If you see someone, don’t hesitate to bash their brains in. They’ll grow ’em back.”

Right.

Sophie returned a moment later and gestured for us to follow once again. We crept through the house, and my heart pounded wildly. I kept expecting someone to happen upon us and sound the alarm. But there was nothing. All was quiet.

We cut through the kitchens and Sophie tugged open a door, flicking a hand to indicate that we should follow. She led us through a wine cellar and then down another flight of stairs. The walls were stone here, the air damp and cold. One solitary light flickered overhead, revealing a dark, narrow passageway.

“Where are we?”

“Dungeon,” Remy replied grimly, and I shivered. The thought of being in someone’s dungeon scared the crap out of me. Mostly because if someone had a dungeon, they were going to use it. And this didn’t look like the fun kind of dungeon that leather fetishists liked.

My internal spidey-sense began to tingle and I turned down one hall, toward a door on the far end. “This is the right way,” I told Remy. “I can feel him.”

The knowledge that he was so close pulsed within me, a strange mixture of anxiety and arousal. I needed Zane. How badly did he need me—need blood—right now?

We moved to the end of the hall. The door was cold metal, no window. When I looked closely, I could see faint symbols traced into the metal, as if scratched there with a knife. The stain of wet liquid in the dirt at the doorway was likely holy water. If we got in, how would we get Zane out?

I tested the doorknob anyhow. It turned easily and I stepped inside.

One dim yellow light bulb hung from the ceiling here. The walls were bare, damp concrete. And there, on the only piece of furniture in the tiny room, lay Zane, stretched out on a plain wooden table, utterly still. His wrists were extended over his head and chained with cuffs, his ankles also manacled. His wings were tight beneath him, and as I stepped forward, I noticed that runes covered the manacles. Silver duct tape covered his eyes and mouth, symbols hastily scribbled on in what looked like marker.

I gasped, the breath escaping my body. Oh, God. He was so still. I’d feel it if he was dead, wouldn’t I? “Zane?” I reached out to touch him.

Sophie pushed my hand away, her gaze hardening.

I looked at her in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“I must know your intentions, first.”

Who the hell was she to question me? I pointed at the man on the table—so unnaturally still—and lifted my chin. “That is my master. And I love him. And I’m getting him out of here before they kill him. He doesn’t deserve to be held captive like this.”

She snorted at that. “You are a naïve fool,” she said in that thick accent. “This one is not an innocent any more than I am.” Sophie gestured at me. “But, very well. You may free him.”

Was this a trick? A trap? I glanced at Remy, but she was staring down the corridor, watching for the others.

I took a step toward Zane. Sophie didn’t move. I circled around him, and still she didn’t move. She simply watched me with interested eyes.

My fingers touched his bare chest. It rose and fell underneath my fingertips, and I exhaled in relief. Thank God. I hadn’t realized until now just how frightened I was. He was unnaturally still, but he lived. “Is he all right?”

“Does he look all right?” Sophie sounded amused.

I didn’t know how to answer that. I glanced over at her, then back down at Zane. I tugged at the tape over his eyes, and carefully peeled it off.

Then gasped.

His eyes were entirely red—no whites showed. They flicked over to glance at me, the only movement in his too-still body. “What’s wrong with him?” My fingers grazed his cheek lovingly and I began to pull the tape off his mouth.

Sophie watched me. “I imagine he is quite hungry.”

My poor Zane. I looked at her in shock. “They’re starving him? He has to drink every day.”