Succubus Blues

 "Wh-what are you saying?"

 He cupped my cheek. "I'm saying, I'll do it, love. The past will not rule my present. For you, I'll walk away. You and me. We'll go today and leave all this behind. Get a home somewhere and start a life together. We can go to Vegas."

 I turned rigid in his arms, my eyes widening. Oh God.

 A knock sounded at my door, and I nearly jumped ten feet. Only about forty minutes had passed. No, no, I thought. It was too soon. Especially in light of this sudden turnabout. Hugh couldn't have acted so fast. I didn't know what to do.

 Roman raised an eyebrow, curious more than anything else. "Expecting anyone?"

 I shook my head, trying to hide the racing of my heart. "Doug's always threatened to come get me," I joked. "I hope he didn't finally decide to act on it."

 Getting out of bed, I went to my closet, urging every nerve in my body to look nonchalant. I put on a deep red kimono, ran a hand self-consciously through my messy hair, and walked out to the living room, trying not to hyperventilate once out of Roman's sight. Oh Lord, I thought, approaching the door. What am I going to do? What am I going to —

 "Seth?"

 The writer stood outside, a bakery box in hand, his own face registering as much shock as mine undoubtedly did. I watched his eyes quickly slip up the length of me, and I suddenly became aware of how short my robe was and just how much the clinging silk revealed. His eyes snapped up to my face, and he swallowed.

 "Hi. I.,.that is..."

 One of my neighbors walked by, stopping and staring when he saw me in the robe. "Come in," I urged Seth with a grimace, closing the door behind him. Having expected a cavalcade of immortals, I felt more confused than ever now.

 "I'm sorry," he managed at last, trying to keep his eyes from drifting to my body. "I hope I didn't wake you..."

 "No... no... it's not a problem..."

 Naturally Roman chose that moment to make an appearance, coming down the hall from my bedroom in only boxers. "So what's—oh hey, how's it going? Seth, right?"

 "Right," said Seth flatly, looking from me to Roman and then back to me. In the wake of that gaze, I didn't care about nephilim, immortals, or saving Carter. All I could think of was how this must look to Seth. Poor Seth, who had done nothing but be nice to me since I'd met him, yet who nonetheless managed to get hurt over and over by my insensitivity—not to mention an unfortunate set of circumstances. I didn't know what to say; I felt as mortified as he apparently did. I did not want him to see me like this, all of my lies and inconsistent signals coming to light.

 "Is that breakfast?" the nephilim asked cheerfully. He was the only one of us at ease.

 "Huh?" Seth still looked stu

 He started to turn, but the damage was done. Of all the possible scenarios, this would be the one in which short-spoken Seth chose to ramble. I knew it was your day off. Shit. Roman turned on me, the incredulity on his face transforming to fury before my eyes.

 "Who," he gasped, voice barely coming out in his anger, "who did you call? Who the fuck did you call?"

 I stepped backward. "Seth, get out of—"

 Too late. A wave of power, not unlike the one Jerome had used on me, slammed against both Seth and me, thrusting us against my living room wall.

 Roman strode up to us, glaring at me, his eyes like blue flame. "Who did you call?" he roared. I didn't answer. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

 Turning from us, he grabbed my phone and dialed. "I need you to get over here right now....yes, yes, I don't fucking care. Leave it." He recited my address and disco

 Ru

 I didn't respond. I couldn't. Movement, even talking, was too hard in that psychic net. I couldn't even look at Seth. God only knew what he must think of all of this.

 Ten minutes later, I heard another knock. If I had any sort of divine favor left, it would be Jerome and Carter, ready to come to my rescue. Surely even a succubus deserved a break now and then, I thought as I watched Roman open the door.

 Helena walked in. Oh, man.

 "About time," Roman snapped, slamming the door behind her.

 "What's going—" She cut her words off, eyes widening at the sight of Seth and me. Turning back to Roman, she gave him and his boxers a once-over. "For crying out loud, what have you done now?"

 "Someone's coming," he hissed, ignoring her question. "Right now."

 "Who?" she demanded, hands on hips. There was no rasp in her voice now, and she looked amazingly competent. If I hadn't already been rendered speechless, the sight of her would have done it.

 "I don't know," he admitted. "Probably our exalted sire. She called someone."

 Helena turned and approached me, making terror sink into my bones as I realized my danger. Helena was the other nephilim. Crazy, swindling Helena. Helena, whom I had insulted on a number of occasions, mocked behind her back, and stolen employees from. The look on her face informed me she was considering all of those things as she stared me down.

 "Drop the field," she snapped to Roman, and a moment later, Seth and I slumped forward, gasping, as the power released us. "Is he right? Did you call our father?"

 "I... didn't call... anyone..."

 "She's lying," Roman observed mildly. "Who did you call, Georgina?"

 When I didn't answer, she walked over and slapped me hard, the impact making a loud crack. There was something oddly familiar about it, but then, there would be. Helena was the one who had beat me up that night on the street. I realized then she must have known it was me when I went to Krystal Starz, in spite of my disguise. Recognizing my signature, she had chosen to play with me, feeding me the lines about having a great future as she pushed titles and workshops on me.

 "Always difficult, aren't you?" she scoffed. "For years, I've put up with you and others like you, those who mock my lifestyle and teachings. I should have done something about you a long time ago."

 "Why?" I wondered aloud, gaining control of my voice again. "Why do you do it? You, of all people, who know about angels and demons... why do you tout the New Age bullshit?"

 She eyed me scathingly. "Is it really? Is it bullshit to encourage people to seize control of their own lives, to view themselves as sources of power instead of getting caught up in all the guilt of what's right and what's wrong?" When I didn't answer, she continued, "I teach people to empower themselves. I teach them to let go of sin and salvation, to learn how to find happiness now—in this world. True, some of it is... embellished for the sake of creating wonder and awe, but what does that matter, if the ends are achieved? People walk away from my classes feeling like gods and goddesses. They find that within themselves, rather than selling out to some cold, hypocritical institution."

 I couldn't even begin to formulate a response, and it occurred to me that Helena and Roman thought exactly alike, both of them dissatisfied with the system that had spawned them, each of them rebelling against it in different ways.