the degradation of Jerome “lending” me to anyone. “Jerome doesn’t do things out of good will,” I pointed out, recalling his snide remark about altruism last night. “There’s more going on.”
Grace nodded. “Indeed. Jerome suspects that Cedric actually hasn’t given up the struggle and is still plotting against him. Jerome wants you to spy and report back.”
Oh, I didn’t like that. Not at all.
“He wants me to spy on another demon? An archdemon? Do you know what kind of trouble I could get in if Cedric finds out?”
Neither demoness said anything. It was no concern of theirs if I got smote. Considering Jerome’s current attitude toward me, it probably wasn’t much of a concern for him either, aside from having to send a requisition to Personnel for a new succubus.
“So,” continued Mei, “you’ll have two agendas. You need to let Jerome know what Cedric’s doing. And, you need to infiltrate Cedric’s problem cult and keep them in line—although, if you make things a little uncomfortable for Cedric along the way, Jerome won’t mind.”
“Right. The Canadian Satanists. What on earth are they doing that’s such a big deal? Putting 666 on the backs of hockey jerseys?”
My joke had no effect on either demoness. Someday, I thought, I’d get one of them to crack a smile. “They’re attracting attention, enough that Cedric’s superiors are embarrassed. They’d prefer this cult conduct its evil in more subtle ways.”
“Last I knew, true Satanists aren’t actually evil per se,” I mused. The rep aside, most Satanists were more into just acknowledging chaos and humanity’s wild, base nature. “Most aren’t actually out conducting bloody rituals or spray-painting pentagrams on walls.”
“Actually,” said Mei, “this group is spray-painting pentagrams on walls.”
“Oh,” I said. “That’s lame.”
“They think they’re evil…” began Grace.
“…but they’re not,” finished Mei. “They need to be reined in.”
“Okay, sure. No problem.” Influencing wannabe Satanists was a piece of cake compared to spying on a demon. I glanced at the time. “Anything else? I should probably head out.”
“Yes,” said Mei. “Jerome wants you to check in on Tawny.”
“Seriously?” I groaned. “He hates me.”
The demonesses neither confirmed nor denied this statement.
“See you around, Georgina,” said Grace.
“We’ll check in,” said Mei.
They vanished.
With a heavy heart, I finished my packing and told Aubrey good-bye. Then I lugged my suitcase down to my Passat, off to play Mata Hari. I just hoped my end would be better than hers.
Once you clear Everett, a naval city just north of Seattle, the drive up to Canada is pretty easy. The speed limit goes up, and the most exciting attractions along the way are casinos and outlet malls. About a half-hour from the border, I reached Bellingham, the current residence of Tawny Johnson.
Tawny was a succubus, a very new succubus. Technically, I was her mentor, but her assignment in Bellingham mercifully limited our interactions. She’d come to Seattle back in December and had gotten involved with an imp named Niphon who’d been trying to make my life more of a living hell than it already was. He’d roped her into his plans, and as angry as I’d been about it, I knew the fault was his more than hers. She hadn’t really known what she was doing and had been convinced he could help fast-track her career. Nonetheless, she’d gotten in enough trouble that Jerome had sent her out of the city. It was better than being sent back to Hell, so really, the arrangement suited all of us just fine.
I gave her a call, and we met up at a café just off I-5. Tawny was easy to spot when she entered the place. Despite the fact that Tawny had been kind of a con artist when she was a mortal—a profession you’d think would lend itself well to succubus work—she was actually pretty horrible at seduction. Oh, she could still get guys to sleep with her, but it was more thanks to her availability rather than any particular wiles on her part. In particular, she was convinced that the most alluring form she could take was that of a six-foot blonde with breasts that would have given a human a back injury. Tawny also had a penchant for spandex and metallic fabrics that I found disturbing but that delighted Hugh and the vampires to no end. I made a mental note to tell them about the chartreuse hot pants she wore today.
“Georgina!” she exclaimed, dancing over to my table on gold stilettos. “I’m so happy to see you.” She held out her arms, like maybe I was supposed to stand and hug her, but I remained sitting. Taking the hint, she sat down as well. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m going to Vancouver,” I said, wrapping my hands around my white chocolate mocha. “Jerome wanted me to stop by and see how things were going.”
Her eyes lit up. “Great! I’ve been spending a lot of time over at Western.” She leaned forward and spoke in a sage voice. “You know, if you’re ever having trouble getting someone into bed, you should go check out college guys. They’re so easy.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I said dryly. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
She pursed her lips and eyed me. “Doesn’t look like you need it, though,” she added wistfully. “I could never get a glow like that.”
Too bad she hadn’t seen the glow in full effect yesterday. It would have blown her away. “You will,” I said. “Someday.” Some day far, far away. Tawny had miles to go before gaining the subtleties required to land really moral guys.
“I don’t know how you do it. You aren’t even blond. I mean, maybe a little, but mostly you’re a brunette. I just don’t see guys going for that.”
My hair was long and light brown, lightly highlighted with gold. My eyes were a hazel-green that I also suspected didn’t fit in with her worldview of what was sexy, at least if her baby blues were any indication. “Yeah, well, some people are into kinky stuff, I guess.”
The waiter showed up and took our lunch orders. I made myself comfortable and prepared to do some mentoring.
“So,” I said. “You got any questions?”
Tawny tilted her head, long-lashed blue eyes filled with thought. “Yeah. There’s something I’ve been wondering about.”
“Okay, go for it.”
“These colleges guys…they’re kind of, like, fast.”
“Fast?”
“Yeah. You get them into bed, and it’s over before it begins.”
“They’re eighteen or twenty. Still pulsing with adolescent hormones. They don’t really know what they’re doing yet.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said. “Except, when you’re going down on them, it takes forever. You know what I mean?”
I forced
