Succubus Heat. Richelle Mead

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Succubus Heat - Richelle Mead Georgina Kincaid

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p>SUCCUBUS IN DANGER

      The smell hit me first. An overwhelming and suffocating odor of natural gas.

      I stopped struggling for half a second. I didn’t need to be human to know that meant trouble.

      Before I could process that further, the kitchen exploded into flames and fire expanded out into the living room. It didn’t quite reach us, but I think Greg must have still gotten burned because he screamed in pain and released his hold on me. His body had shielded the worst from me, and mostly all I felt was a rolling wave of heat and air.

      I didn’t bother to think or question anything. I scrambled from the couch and ran out the front door, away from the fire.

      The only thing I could think about now was getting away and getting to safety …

SUCCUBUS HEAT

      Books by Richelle Mead

       The Georgina Kincaid Series

      SUCCUBUS BLUES

      SUCCUBUS ON TOP

      SUCCUBUS DREAMS

      SUCCUBUS HEAT

      SUCCUBUS SHADOWS

      SUCCUBUS REVEALED

       The Eugenie Markham/Dark Swan Series

      STORM BORN

      THORN QUEEN

      IRON CROWNED

      SHADOW HEIR

      Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

      SUCCUBUS HEAT

      RICHELLE MEAD

      

ZEBRA BOOKS KENSINGTON BOOKS http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

      KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

       119 West 40th Street

       New York, NY 10018

      Copyright © 2009 by Richelle Mead

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

      Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

      ISBN: 0-7582-4515-7

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 27

      For my sister Deb, who shares my views on

       red hair, coconut rum, and guys named Jay

      Chapter 1

      Sleeping with my therapist was a bad idea.

      I knew it too, but I couldn’t really help it. There were only so many times I could hear “Why don’t you explain that” and “Tell me how you feel.” So, I finally snapped and decided to show the guy how I felt. I’ve gotta say, for a decent guy who had never cheated on his wife, he wasn’t that hard to take advantage of. And by “not hard,” I mean “ridiculously easy.” His pseudo morals gave me a strong succubus energy fix, and when you consider that what we did was probably the most productive thing that ever took place on his couch, it was almost like I did a good deed.

      Still, I knew my boss was going to be pissed, seeing as he was the one who’d ordered me to seek counseling in the first place.

      “Do not tell Jerome,” I warned my friends, tapping my cigarette against the ashtray. “I don’t want to deal with that kind of fallout.”

      My friends and I were sitting at a booth in Cold July, an industrial club down in Seattle’s Belltown district. The place was dark and loud, with crisscrossing pipes on the walls and ceiling forming the bulk of the décor. Because it was a private club, it didn’t have to adhere to the city’s public smoking ban, which was a perk for me. In the last few months, I’d found nicotine was one of the essential things helping me cope. Other things on the essential list: vodka, Nine Inch Nails, a steady supply of moral men, and an all-purpose bitchy attitude.

      “Look, Georgina,” said my friend Hugh. He was an imp, a type of hellish legal assistant who bought souls for our masters and did assorted middle-management tasks. He had dark-cropped hair and was big without being fat. “I’m no expert in mental health, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that probably wasn’t a helpful step on the road to healing.”

      I shrugged and let my eyes scan the crowded room for potential victims. There were some pretty good pickings here. “Well, he wasn’t that good. At therapy, I mean. Besides, I don’t think I need it anymore.”

      Silence met me, inasmuch as silence could meet me in a place so noisy. I turned back to my friends. Hugh was making no pretense of hiding his you’re fucking crazy look. Our vampire friends, Peter and Cody, at least had the decency to avert their eyes. I narrowed mine and put out the cigarette.

      “I don’t suppose,” said Peter at last, “that this is anybody you’d maybe, uh, like to date long term?”

      “Yeah,” agreed Cody, eyes wide and hopeful. “I bet a therapist would be a great listener. And you wouldn’t even have to pay for it.”

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