difference was in the light.
“Oh my God,” I said, squinting out the window. “I haven’t seen the sun in two months.”
Luis chuckled. “Ah, just you wait until high summer, when the temps hit triple digits. It cooks most people alive, but for someone like you, you’ll love it. Hot and dry. Doesn’t get below eighty at night.”
I loved Seattle. Even without Seth in the picture, I could have been happy there for many, many years. But, I had to admit, my one weakness with the region was the weather. Relative to the extremes of the East Coast, Seattle was a very mild climate to live in. That meant it didn’t get very anything. Not very cold, and certainly not very warm. The hot weather we got in midsummer was fleeting, and then the mildness of the winter was marred with rain and clouds. By February, I was usually ready to start consuming entire bottles of vitamin D. I’d grown up on the beaches of the Mediterranean and still missed them.
“This is great,” I said. “I wish I were visiting while it was warmer.”
“Oh, you don’t have long to wait,” he told me. “Another month like this, and then the temperature will start going up. You can break out your bikini by March.” I thought that might be kind of an exaggeration but returned his grin nonetheless.
We were approaching the Strip and all its glory. The buildings became more flamboyant and expensive looking. Sidewalks and streets grew more crowded. Billboards advertised every form of entertainment imaginable. It was like an adult-oriented theme park.
“You seem pretty happy here,” I said.
“Yup,” Luis agreed. “I lucked out. Not only is the place great, but I command one of the largest groups of Hellish servants in the world. When I saw your name come up, I thought, ‘I’ve got to get her in on this.’ ”
Something in his words put a crack in the rose-colored glasses I was viewing the wondrous sights around me through. “When my name came up?”
“Sure. We get e-mails all the time about transfers, job openings, whatever. When I saw you were being moved out of Seattle, I tossed my hat into the ring.”
I turned toward the side window so he couldn’t see my face. “How long ago was that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. A while ago.” He chuckled. “You know how long these things take.”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “I do.”
It was exactly what Roman and I had talked about: the painstakingly long time Hell took with personnel decisions. Roman swore the circumstances surrounding this transfer were suspicious and implied a rush. Yet Luis was behaving as though everything had gone along according to perfect procedure. Was it possible there really had just been some oversight with Jerome’s notification about my transfer?
It was also possible, I knew, that Luis was lying. I didn’t want to believe that of him, but I knew that no matter how friendly and likable he seemed, he was still a demon at the end of the day. I couldn’t allow myself to be lulled into complete trust by his charm. We had a favorite saying among my friends:
“I was surprised to be transferred at all,” I said. “I’ve been happy in Seattle. Jerome said . . . well, he said it was because I was a slacker employee. That I was being moved for bad behavior.”
Luis snorted and pulled into the driveway for the Bellagio. “He did, huh? Well, don’t beat yourself up, honey. If you want a reason for them pulling you out, my guess is that it has something to do with Jerome getting himself summoned and letting nephilim and dream creatures run rampant with his succubus.”
I had nothing to say to that, but fortunately, we reached the hotel’s entrance and yielded the car to a valet driver who seemed familiar with Luis and his generous tips. Entering the Bellagio, I was soon awash in stimuli— color and sound and life. A lot of the people moving in and out were dressed as glamorously as us, but plenty of average “everyday” people walked through as well. It was a mixing of all social classes and cultures, all here and united in search of enjoyment.
Equally overwhelming was the intense wave of human emotion. I didn’t have any magic power to let me “see” emotion, exactly, but I was very good at reading faces and expressions. It was that same knack that had let me pick out the desperate and hopeless at the mall. This was the same, except magnified a hundred times. People swung the full gamut of hope and excitement. Some were joyous and eager, either high off of triumph or ready to risk it all for triumph to come. Others had clearly attempted it—and failed. Their faces were full of despair, disbelief at how they’d ended up in this situation and sorrow over their inability to fix things.
Just as obvious were the good marks. Some guys were so blatantly trolling for a hookup that I could have propositioned them then and there. Others were ideal succubus bait, guys who had come here saying they were going to keep themselves in line—but who could easily step off the edge of temptation with the right finessing. Even with my heart tied up with Seth, I couldn’t help but take in and thrive under all the admiring looks I got. I was suddenly glad I’d taken Luis up on his shape-shifting suggestion.
“So easy,” I murmured, staring around as we waited for an elevator. “They’re just there like . . .”
“Cattle?” suggested Luis.
I made a face. “Not quite the word I wanted.”
“Not much difference.”
An elevator opened, and a cute twenty-something guy gestured me forward. I smiled winningly at him, loving the effect I had. After he exited on his floor, Luis winked at me and leaned over to whisper in my ear.
“Easy to get used to, huh?”
Our floor came next, and Luis nodded to our right when the door opened. A few steps down the hall, I realized something. “I have a suite?” I asked, startled. “That’s a little much, even to make a good impression.”
“Ah, well, that’s what I didn’t get a chance to tell you yet. You have a suite because it has more room. You have to share it with another new employee.”
I nearly came screeching to a halt. Here it was, the catch in what was otherwise a sugar-coated fantasy. I envisioned myself rooming with another succubus and immediately knew I’d be seeking other accommodations. Succubi forced into close proximity put reality show drama to shame.
“I don’t want to impose on anyone’s privacy,” I said delicately, wondering how I could get out of this.
Luis reached a door and took out a keycard. “Nah, the place is huge. Two bedrooms and a living room and kitchen that go on forever.” He unlocked the door and opened it. “You could avoid each other all weekend if you wanted to. But somehow, I don’t think you will.”
I was about to question that, but suddenly, there was no need. We’d stepped into a living room as expansive as Luis had promised, all sleek lines and modern furniture, colored in shades of gold and green with dark wood trim. A long window offered a sweeping view of the city, and a man stood in front of it, admiring the panorama.
I couldn’t see his face, and something told me that even if I could, I probably wouldn’t recognize it. That didn’t matter. I knew him by his immortal signature, the unique sensory markers that distinguished him from everyone else. I could scarcely believe it, even as he turned around and smiled at me.
“Bastien?” I exclaimed.
Chapter 7
No matter what shape he wore, Bastien always managed the same kind of smile—warm and infectious. I was grinning as I hugged him, too overwhelmed to form any other logical greeting or even ask why he was here.
The last time I’d seen Bastien had been in Seattle last fall. He’d come to town to help discredit a conservative radio host and had succeeded (thanks to me), earning him accolades from our superiors. I’d lost touch with him shortly thereafter and had thought he’d been transferred to Europe or the East Coast. Maybe he had been, but he was here now. The full impact of Luis’s earlier words came back to me as I stepped away from Bastien.
“Wait.
Bastien’s grin widened. He loved being able to shock and surprise me. “Afraid so, Fleur. I moved here a week ago, and our employer was kind enough to put me up here while I look for a place of my own.” He swept Luis a gallant bow.
Luis nodded back, clearly enjoying the scenario he’d created. “Which, hopefully, you’ll do soon. Accounting isn’t going to let me get away with this place forever.”
