Zoey Rogue (14 page)

“Are you leaving?” she asked, concerned.

“No, dear.”

“Are you dying?”

“No. I am … preparing you in the case you need a new guardian to temper your magic.”

“Why?”

“You trust me, don’t you, my dear?”

“You know I do.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It took what? Years for me to win that war with you. I’ll take a victory by attrition.”

She studied him. She trusted him more than anyone else in the world, fully aware she’d never know if he lied to her. He’d taken many chances on her when the Sucubatti openly ridiculed her lack of discipline and ambition. The Professor treated her well and put up with the sarcasm and wit that got her kicked out of a lot of classes. He’d believed in her since the beginning. It struck her that she never knew why.

“You can’t leave me or die or transfer or kick me out,” she told him firmly. “I will leave the Sucubatti if any of those things happen. I don’t want anything to do with this stupid organization.”

“What would you do? Kill Cambions on your own?”

“Yeah. Why not?” she asked with a shrug. “I hate them. I can kill more Cambions in a week without the stupid rules than I do now.”

“You’d be dead in three days. You can’t control the sex energy without a guardian, and I am too old to sustain you as it is. You know this, Zoey. Before too long, you will need a new guardian.”

“No. I only want you.” She rubbed her face. She wasn’t going to tell him she felt like she had been shorting out with her inability to manage the sex energy for quite some time.

“The rules are there to protect you.”

“I know,” she admitted. “You’re worrying me. You’re telling me my best friend is a traitor and I lost Eric already. I never asked for this, but I’ve always outperformed everyone else, not because of the Sucubatti or their goddamn rules. I’ve done it for you and to help people who can’t help themselves. You’re all I have, Alexander. I can’t lose you, too.”

“My sweet, noble warrior.” His tone was tender, and his eyes sparkled with tears.

Surprised at the display, Zoey reached out to him and squeezed his hand.

“Please tell me you’re not dying or leaving me,” she whispered, panic spiraling through her at the idea of being alone. “Please.”

“I’m not,” he confirmed. “You remind me of someone I knew once.”

“In a good way?”

He laughed, a rich, rolling sound.

“Good.” She realized – not for the first time – that she didn’t know much about him at all. She knew only a few years worth of Alexander. He’d lived thousands of years.

“I am glad your soul-mate saw what we missed.”

“Is it you?” she asked. She’d wanted to avoid that part of the conversation completely, but the idea Alexander was meant to spend his life with her was a nice one. “You won’t be lonely anymore.”

He laughed harder this time.

“Why is that funny?” she asked archly. “You don’t want to deal with me the rest of your life, do you?”

“Oh, my dear, you have brought this old man such peace,” he said. He clasped the hand he held with both of his. “It is not I who am intended for you. But he will come for you soon. He must, within a few days.”

“That’s not gonna work for me,” she said. “Eric is going to call me back like, tomorrow probably, and we’ll be getting married. I kinda have plans.”

“If you believed that, you would’ve said yes last night,” the Professor replied gently. “You’re not meant for Eric. You know this.”

“No, I don’t!” she said, voice rising. “It can still work out. Whatever this shit is about a soul-mate, I don’t have one. If any Incubus comes near me, I’m pretty sure I can kill him. No, I know I can. I mean, I’ve taken on six Cambions alone. I can kill one Incubus. I had a dream I did.”

“A dream. Recently?”

“Two nights ago. Really weird,” she said and shook her head. “It seemed real, but I woke up on your porch.”

The Professor was thoughtful.

“I bet I could do it,” she said again.

“I would like to be there when you tell your soul-mate this,” he said. “It would make for an intriguing exchange.”

“If he exists, I’ll tell him exactly that. No more of this nonsense, Professor.”

“As you wish, my dear.”

“Okay. Good.” She eyed him. “I’m going to Vikki’s. I’ll search her room before she gets back.”

“You’re running away, because what I told you terrifies you.”

“Any objections?”

“Only, don’t talk about killing Incubuses to others. It’s a sensitive subject right now.”

“I’m just joking.” She studied him. “Did something bad happen?”

The Professor shook his head.

Unconvinced, Zoey rose and grabbed her jacket from the coat rack near the door. She could hardly breathe right, and the cold air felt good in her lungs. She didn’t believe there were Incubus soul-mates or that Eric wasn’t going to call her. In a few days, everything would be normal. The Professor would stop revealing secrets to her, Eric would welcome her home, and she and Vikki would be out killing Cambions.

The pain in her chest stopped her in the middle of the street. She bent over and forced herself to breathe deeply. Her whole world was imploding. If anything the Professor told her was true, she was fucked.

He was always right.

Tears stung her eyes. She straightened and jogged through the drizzle to the dorms. She had a key to Vikki’s and let herself in. Vikki’s stock of alcohol was second only to a bar’s.

Zoey crossed to the mini-bar area and pulled a bottle of vodka out of the freezer. She knocked back a mouthful. She coughed and drank more. Without the Professor there to stabilize her, she needed the alcohol to calm her blood. When she felt better, she began to search Vikki’s room.

Nothing stood out, except the journal buried in a shoebox under Vikki’s bed. Zoey set the box on the bed and sat, gazing at the journal. Vikki was a tech-junkie; journals weren’t her thing, which meant, this was something of sentimental value or extremely personal. Zoey hesitated to open it, not wanting to find evidence that her best friend was what the Professor believed her to be.

Hoping it was an old journal from childhood or something, Zoey purposely ignored the near mint condition of the cover and the crisp, white pages that smelled of recent plastic wrapping. The first entry was dated three weeks ago.

Zoey closed it, heart pounding and hands shaking.

Not my Vikki, she prayed silently. With a deep breath, she opened it.

I met him last night. The Incubatti who marked me. What does that shit even mean? He said I had three strikes. When I asked what that meant, he told me he’d tell me after we made love.

Zoey grimaced at the four pages describing their sex on the first night. She skipped ahead, wanting to know what the three strikes was about.

He’s worse than fucking Dimitri when it comes to answering questions. He talks in riddles or these weird vague sentences. If I asked him what color the sky was, he’d say it wasn’t red or some shit. I didn’t expect him to answer the question I asked him before we had sex. But he did.

He said “three strikes, you’re mine.” When I asked him what that meant, he smiled then said “strike one” and left. Are we playing fucking baseball here?

Zoey snorted, hearing Vikki’s irritation through the words. That ended the first entry. The second was a few days later.

It’s getting worse. I had the whole fucking football team in here tonight. Nothing sates my appetite. Not killing, not men. Nothing, but him.

Dimitri said he’s going to transfer me soon after my b-day. I asked him where, but he’s a jackass as usual. I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing. I’m too good for them to get rid of, right?

The third was written a week before.

I gave in. I couldn’t take it. I called him and went over. What the football team couldn’t do, he did in an hour. I thought I was dying when I showed up on his doorstep. I got my transfer orders. When I told him, he laughed. I asked him why, and he acted like I was an idiot. Said didn’t I know what happens to Hunters that are “transferred?” I said, duh, they go somewhere else.

Zoey laughed.

He’s an Incubatti. He can’t be telling the truth. I can’t do this. I can’t be with him – he’s the enemy, right? But I can’t NOT be with him. I can’t live without him, and whatever this bond is, he’s got to have me, too. What motivation does he have for lying to me? What if what he says is true? I mean, we never hear from the girls who transfer out, and no one who hits their 22
^nd
birthday stays here. I’m next to turn, and then Zoey. What if something bad happens when I transfer, and I can’t warn her? She’s been like a little sister to me. I have to find out.

Zoey read on, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach. She felt dirty for doubting Vikki after the statement about being like a sister to her. Confusion spun through her. Was what Vikki did so wrong? She didn’t have a choice in who she fell for, according to the Professor. So why were the Enforcers coming to punish her when she was bound to one of their kind?

Dread made Zoey hesitate before turning to the next entry. She’d never thought twice about the girls who transferred out at the age of twenty two. The Benefactors said they went to work at satellite offices across the country or at the hidden Sucubatti headquarters for the Council and the Internal Affairs Bureau. That location was secluded, probably on some island or remote area, because everyone knew the leaders of the society were so powerful, they’d melt humans. Enforcers were said to have magic like theirs. She didn’t know what made them special, but if even the Benefactors revered them, it was because they were stronger than anything Zoey could imagine.

Not people she looked forward to lying to, that was certain. She wasn’t afraid; she just hoped they killed her quickly. IAB was known for killing off people who broke rules. What would an Incubatti Enforcer do?

Even worse, what if the Professor was telling the truth that Zoey had a soul-mate? Would the Sucubatti kill or transfer her, if the Enforcers spared her?

She’d never go down without a fight. The Enforcers would have to kill her. Her own fate was less of a concern than that of Vikki.

The final entry of the journal was dated today.

Figured out what strike three was this morning, after Liam came to get me from the fucking hospital. I’m so fucked. They’re sending Enforcers to do to me what they do to everyone else who turns twenty two. I know. I have a choice. I can go to Liam. He’ll protect me. How do I live with myself if I live in the same place as the Cambions who kill girls like me for fun? I don’t know what to do. Liam won’t let me stay here, if I’m in danger.

I’ll really miss Zoey.

Zoey closed the journal. She was panicking again. Snatching the vodka, she drank until her throat burned then sat on the bed, head in her hands.

Her phone rang. She ignored it. The caller hung up then tried again. Suddenly, she realized it might be Eric. Zoey dug it out of her pocket to see the Professor’s name on the screen. She ignored it. He’d know, but right now, she didn’t need a reminder not to have a meltdown or to stop drinking.

He texted. IAB headed to your location to search Vikki’s room before she returns. I have tea ready.

It was his way of ordering her home. Not wanting to be there when the IAB came, Zoey rose. She grabbed the journal, replaced the shoebox under the bed and left quickly, vodka in hand.

By the time she reached the Professor’s, she was dizzy from chugging alcohol. She tucked the journal in the band of her jeans and pulled her sweater over it. She hadn’t thought twice about taking the evidence the IAB sought, and she wasn’t about to let the Professor see it either.

Vikki had no choice. She was hurting, like Zoey was.

“I’m gonna lay down,” she called into the study.

“A woman stopped by today. Quite a beautiful one,” the Professor started. He appeared in the hallway as she started up the stairs.

“Succubus?” Zoey asked.

“A human,” he replied. “Maybe there is something to your obsession with that race.”

“It’s not an obsession. It’s what normal people do!”

“Yes, dear.” He smiled. “She had a very interesting proposition. Are you too drunk to hear it?”

“Not yet,” she said, waving the bottle of vodka. “I will be in a few minutes.”

He did not look pleased. She sighed and stopped halfway up the stairs, sitting on a step.

“What, Professor?” she asked. “I don’t know any human women.”

“She knew you. Can you guess?”

She gripped her head. The world was already a bit hazy.

“Apparently not,” he continued. “She said you rescued her and wanted to offer you her skill set to help you
combat Cambions.”

Zoey gazed at him blankly.

The Professor frowned. “Friday night? Frat house? You’re unapproved mission?”

“Oh, yeah.” Zoey thought hard, barely recalling the girl’s face that she rescued.

“In any case, the girl’s name is Chrissy. She’s a drop out from MIT.”

“A drop out?” she smiled. “I like her already.”

“I had a feeling you were a little overwhelmed and took the liberty of setting up a meeting with her. If what she says makes sense, I’ll send her your way. Okay?”

“What did she say?”

“She brought a couple of examples of what she can do. They’re on your bed for your next mission.”

Curious and near-drunk, Zoey wobbled to her feet and ascended the rest of the stairs. She went to her room, puzzled to see nothing more than a pair of high heels and a dress neatly folded on her bed. There was a note with it.

Zoey:

This was the least I could do to repay you for saving me. The heels have titanium-reinforced knives. Simply tap your heels together at an angle to engage. You won’t need to buy another pair for a few months, if you keep the blades and hinges oiled. No more buying in bulk! The dress is made of special material that will let you move easily. I believe in what you are doing. If you like what you see, please contact me, and I will be happy to help you.