are you doing here?” I asked, sitting on the armchair opposite him. I noticed then that the last of the party untidiness had been cleaned. Somehow, I suspected mentioning that would result in him never cleaning again. “I figured you’d be out chasing Jerome’s succubus.”
Roman stifled a yawn and set the empty bowl on the coffee table. Immediately, both cats sprang off his lap to get to the residual milk. “I’m on break. Been following her all day, though.”
“And?” My natural curiosity aside, I was uneasy about the idea of Jerome’s authority being called into question. The arch-demon might annoy me sometimes, but I had no desire for a new boss. We’d come dangerously close to a leadership change when he’d been summoned, and I hadn’t been impressed with any of the candidates.
“And it was incredibly boring. You’re much more fun to stalk. She went shopping for most of the day. I didn’t even know stores would let you take that much shit into dressing rooms. Then, she picked up a guy at a bar, and, well, you can figure out the rest.”
I rather liked the idea of Roman suffering while Simone had sex. “Figured your voyeuristic tendencies would be into that kind of pornographic display.”
He made a face. “It wasn’t good porn. It was like the nasty, kinky porn they keep in the back of the store. The kind of stuff that only really sick people go after.”
“So no clandestine meetings to report to Jerome?”
“Nope.”
“Makes sense, I guess.” I stretched out and put my feet out on the table. With Doug incapacitated, I’d spent a rare day on registers, standing more than I usually did anymore. Unless I was mistaken, Roman’s eyes lingered on my legs before returning to my face. “If she didn’t see any immortal action today, she’d have nothing to tell on.”
“Not until tonight, at least.”
“Tonight?”
“How scattered are you? Peter and Cody are having one of their things tonight.”
“Oh, man. I forgot.” Peter loved to throw dinners and get-togethers and seemed unconcerned that I’d just had a major party of my own. As a nocturnal creature, his soirees always took place late at night. “And Simone’s going?”
“Yup. Mei’s with her now, and I’ll relieve her at Peter’s.”
“So you’ll be there in spirit, if not in person.”
“Something like that.” He smiled at my joke, and for the first time since he’d returned to town, I saw a genuinely amused sparkle in those teal eyes. It reminded me a bit of the witty, gallant guy I used to date. It also occurred to me that this was a rare non-antagonistic conversation for us. It was almost…normal. Misunderstanding my silence, he gave me a wary look. “You aren’t thinking of wussing out, are you? Your day couldn’t have been that hard.”
I actually had been thinking of wussing out. After yesterday’s drama and now my regret over yielding to Maddie, I wasn’t sure I was up for my immortal friends’ zany hijinks.
“Come on,” Roman said. “Simone is so boring. And I don’t even mean her activities. She’s just bland. If you’re not there to entertain me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“Are you saying the rest of my friends aren’t entertaining?”
“They pale in comparison.”
I finally agreed to go. Although, it wouldn’t have surprised me if his interest in me making an appearance was just to bum a ride. Nonetheless, I was in a good mood as I headed over to Capitol Hill. It was a little weird having Roman with me and not with me. To continue his spying, he’d gone invisible and without signature. It was like having a ghost in my car.
As usual, I was one of the last to arrive. The Three Amigos—Peter, Cody, and Hugh—were there, dressed in their usual attire now, rather than historically accurate costumes. That meant a perfectly coordinated sweater vest and slacks for Peter, jeans and a T-shirt for Cody, and business casual for Hugh. I held the door open a little longer than usual, to facilitate Roman sweeping in after me. From there, I took it on faith that he was hanging out. As soon as he let us in, Peter scurried back to his kitchen without a word.
Simone was there too. She sat on the loveseat, long legs perfectly crossed and hands resting on her knees. Her body was slim with respectably sized breasts, clad in a black skirt and silvery silk blouse. Her hair was—unsurprisingly—long and blond. Most succubi seemed to think blond was a sure-fire way to get guys in bed. I considered that attitude a sign of inexperience. I’d been a brunette—albeit one with gold highlights—for a while and never had trouble scoring action.
Hugh sat next to her, wearing the flirtatious face that was standard for him when it came to wooing women into bed. Simone regarded him with a polite smile, one she turned on me when I entered. She stood up and held out her hand. Her immortal signature smelled like violets and put me in mind of moonlight and cello music.
“You must be Georgina,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”
She kept that same polite expression, and I could tell it wasn’t faked. It also wasn’t mischievous or overly charming. Likewise, she bore none of the open hostility succubi had around each other, or even the sugar-coated passive aggressiveness that was also common among us. She was just averagely nice. She was…bland.
“You too,” I said. I turned to Cody as I tried to identify the scents coming from the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?”
“Shepherd’s pie.”
I waited for the joke, but none came. “That’s not Peter’s usual style.” He was a great cook but tended to stray toward filet mignon or scallops.
Cody nodded. “He was watching a documentary on the British Isles earlier, and it inspired him.”
“Well, I’ve got nothing against it,” I said, sitting on the arm of the couch. “I guess we should just be grateful he didn’t decide to make blood pudding.”
“In Australia, they have a variant of shepherd’s pie that has potatoes on the top and the bottom,” Simone said out of nowhere. “They call it potato pie.”
Several seconds of silence followed. Her comment wasn’t entirely off-topic, but it was just odd—particularly since she didn’t deliver it in a smug, know-it-all voice that you found among people who always won at Trivial Pursuit. It was just a statement of fact. It also wasn’t very interesting.
“Huh,” I said at last, voice deadpan. “Good to know the name’s accurate. It’ll avoid any embarrassing confusion that might occur at dinner. God only knows how many wacky mishaps have happened when people ordered sweetmeats.”
Cody choked a little on his beer, but Hugh gave Simone a high-beam smile. “That’s fascinating. Are you a cook?”
“No,” she said. Nothing more.
Peter popped back in just then with a vodka gimlet for me. After last night’s showdown with Doug, I’d vowed to lay off for a while—like, a few days. I suddenly decided I might need a drink after all.
Peter glanced around with a small frown. “This is it? I’d kind of hoped Jerome might
