steer to more pleasant matters.
“You’re not much of a talker,” she complained. When I offered no rebuttal, she gave up and started the car again, the burger clutched against the steering wheel. “Come on, then. Let’s go to the mall!”
I stared up at the neon sign over the mall entrance with trepidation and wondered for the ninth time why I was heading to a shopping mecca with a supermodel. I must be sick.
Remy pulled into the parking lot in her tiny BMW and beamed at me. “Ready for some fun?”
I was actually ready for a bite to eat, but since I’d declined to eat at our pit stop, it seemed silly to ask for food now.
Ignoring my rumbling stomach, I asked, “What sort of fun are we going to have, exactly?”
“We’re going shopping, of course.” She got out of the car and moved around to my side, since I hadn’t budged.
I rolled down my window a crack and peered up at her. “It’s been a weird couple of days; I just had sex in a church not long ago; I haven’t slept in two days. Not to mention my job’s probably wondering where I’m at.”
I was trying not to think about work. Julianna would be furious that I had another unexcused absence. “I’m not exactly having a great streak here. Can we do this some other time?”
Undeterred, Remy opened my door and waited for me to get out. “That’s the beauty of a twenty-four-hour mall, my friend. All shopping, all the time, and enough time to get it all in. If you smell bad, we can stop by a bathroom first and you can mop up anything that Noah left behind.”
Ouch. She had a potty mouth. I flinched and got out of the car, albeit very reluctantly. “I’m really tired,” I tried.
“Horseshit,” Remy announced in a singsong voice. “We don’t get tired.”
“We don’t?”
She shook her head and dragged me by the arm toward the glass double doors in the distance. “Sucks don’t need to sleep. Vamps do, Serim do, but we don’t sleep a wink. It’s odd at first, but you get used to it.”
I was horrified. “We don’t sleep? At all?”
“I haven’t slept a wink in four hundred years.”
This was a nightmare of vast proportions. I
“This just keeps getting worse and worse,” I complained as we stepped into the brightly lit mall. I squinted at the light and turned to look at Remy. “Anything else you want to tell me? Do I turn into a hooker at the full moon? Should I avoid people with garlic around their necks? Or-wait-since we’re succubuses, should we avoid people with birth control?”
Remy giggled at my ranting. “You’re quite the funny girl, you know that? I’m so glad you’re one of us.” She patted my hand and threaded my arm through hers as if we’d been best friends since grade school. “Like I said, I’ve been the only Suck in New City for quite some time, so it does get a bit lonely.”
She’d avoided my question, but I decided not to press the issue. If she was laughing at my concerns, maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought. “So why don’t you move, if you don’t like New City?”
She shook her head. “Can’t. My masters are here. Both of ’em. So here I stay.”
I eyed the Gap with longing as she steered me away from it, an expression of distaste on her striking features. I hitched my sweatpants up around my waist again. “Masters? Kind of like an I-Dream-of-Jeannie thing?” I wasn’t too keen on that idea. “I’m not real good with being all submissive and stuff.”
Remy shrugged and led me toward Frederick’s of Hollywood, which sank my spirits almost as much as her next words. “It’s just the roll of the dice, I’m afraid. Since you were created by a vampire and a Serim, you have to answer to both.” She gave me an odd look. “Didn’t you notice that you couldn’t contradict anything that Noah told you?”
I had noticed that. My spirits plummeted. “I have to do
“’Fraid so, but you’re lucky. Noah’s a good guy. He won’t abuse you or anything.”
“And the other guy? The vampire?”
“Who can say?”
At my stricken look, she patted my hand. “Don’t worry. If the vamp turns out to be an unsavory sort, you just avoid him. He can’t tell you what to do if he can’t find you, right?”
“Right,” I echoed. “Is that what you do? Avoid yours?”
She shrugged and began to flip through a rack of clothing in the back of the store. Frederick’s of Hollywood was crammed full of lacy undergarments in all shades of red, pink, and black, and I’d never noticed that they carried clothing, too. I’d never been shopping in here before-no sense in sticking a bikini on a sausage.
The store was empty this early in the day, except for one yawning salesgirl who flipped through a magazine at the counter, Jamba Juice in hand.
“Sometimes I avoid them,” Remy was saying, pulling out a bright blue top with some fuzzy crap around the collar.
I had to think back to what she meant. Oh yes, masters.
“Most of the time, though, we just have an understanding.” She held the top against my chest and nodded. “You should definitely dress in brighter colors. Gray is so blah. And sweats? Burn them, girl. Only fat slobs wear sweats.”
I flinched at that and tried to hand the fluffy top back to her. “You’re not going to find anything in my size here, Remy. We should go somewhere else.” This was going to be downright humiliating, once she realized I was one of the fat, sweats-wearing slobs.
Remy just started piling miniskirts and slinky bodysuits into my arms. “You’re wrong. I’m a pretty good judge of flesh.” She winked at me. “And you’re a size six, I’d say.”
“Uh, you meant to put a one in front of that number, didn’t you?” Okay, so I was closer to a 14, but I could border into unfriendly territory during certain times of the month.
“Nope.” She shoved me toward the dressing room. “Go try this stuff on. If you’re going out with me tomorrow, you have to dress appropriately.”
“I’m going out with you tomorrow?” Who the heck agreed to that one?
“Don’t try to change the subject. Get dressed.” She flung a few hangers of lacy panties at me and ignored my question. “What bra size are you?”
“Remy-” I began.
She cut me off. “Do you like these panties?” They were crotchless.
I cringed. “You want me to try on underpants?”
“No, dummy. Just put on one pair and we’ll buy the rest.” She snorted and tossed more undergarments my way. “Rube.”
“Remy!” I repeated, standing there clutching my pants around my waist. “I’m not trying these on.”
Remy rolled her eyes. “I suppose I’m going to have to do everything for you. You look pretty pathetic right now, you know that?” She turned away and waved to the salesgirl. “Excuse me, but my friend here needs to be measured for a bra. Her tits are overflowing.”
Her voice was loud enough to carry into the mall. I wanted to die right then and there. Instead, I slammed the dressing room door shut and wondered if there was a way to escape before she forced me to try the clothes on.
There was a hesitant knock at the door. “Um, miss? I need to measure you for a bra.” There was some whispering on the other side, and the salesgirl paused, then added, “Your friend says I have to, or she’s going to bring Noah back.”
Visions of having mad sex in a dressing room crowded through my mind. Horrified at the thought, I edged the door open a crack, glaring at Remy. “You don’t play fair.”
“I know.” She grinned.
I took my sweatshirt off and allowed the girl to measure me, my eyes shut so I couldn’t see disgust cross her face as she saw my unsightly flab exposed to the world.
“34 doubleD” the salesgirl announced, then exited the room.
