the ticket on my lap, I saw that Paul had his ready to go too. He cast a glance at mine, and I could see his mind working. Did he notice the name on the ticket said “Caitlin Harris” instead of “Jesse Something”?
The ticket-taker came and went, and I placed the stub inside my purse. For a moment, I leaned back into the seat and watched the scenery outside the window as we rolled past, leaving a blur of color streaming behind. My eyes slipped closed, just for a moment, as I felt the train’s vibrations tickle my spine and work its way into my neck.
And just over four hours later, I awoke with my head on Paul’s shoulder as the conductor announced over the loudspeaker that we’d arrived at New York City’s Penn Station.
Chapter 4
Penn Station/Hotel New York
I thought I’d seen ordered chaos at Boston’s South Station during morning rush hour. That was a sneeze compared with the epidemic of people spread throughout Penn Station. Everyone had somewhere to go, somewhere to be—and they were all late. Even those few people who walked instead of strode, who meandered instead of marched, had an energy to them, a vibrant thrum that I didn’t sense in Boston. It filled the air, overriding the stench of humanity and technology.
And the stores! It was like a city block had fallen beneath the surface, an Atlantis submerged in retail and anchored by multiple train lines. Bookstores and pharmacies and shoe stores—ooh, shoes—and food…bless me, all of the food! Restaurants and small specialty shops and delicatessens and snack carts and on and on and on. How much value did these mortals place on the appetite? Remembering my recent experience with my breakfast muffin, my mouth watered.
Unbelievable. I was hungry again. Maybe creatures of Gluttony had a better understanding of humans than a former succubus.
Nah. Eating that muffin had been close to orgasmic, but still fell way short of the real thing.
By my side, Paul waited as I looked around like a love-struck fool gazing at the stars. Leaning against the suitcase’s handle, he said, “You look overwhelmed.”
“Not overwhelmed,” I said as I stared at a doughnut storefront, wondering why Americans purposefully misspelled certain words. It should have been Crispy, with a C instead of a K. And Kreme was wrong on two counts. If the owners couldn’t even spell properly, what did that say about the quality of their food? “Whelmed, maybe. But not overwhelmed.”
He laughed, and once again I felt my body react to the sound. Warmth rippled from my belly, reaching up to my breasts and down to touch my groin, then disappeared, leaving my nipples hard.
If that’s just from his laugh, imagine what his fingers would do…
I bit my lip, hard. The pain was immediate and complete, and it shocked me out of my growing attraction to Paul. I couldn’t afford to experiment with my new human emotions and desires. Not yet. Even if what I really wanted was to feel his breath hot against my skin as his mouth kissed my ear, my neck, my—
Crap. Now my panties were damp. Being human meant leaking at very inopportune times.
“Which way are you headed?” Paul asked. “I could walk you to the subway or a cab, wherever you’re going.”
“I…” Blinking, I realized I had no idea what I should do. My head began to pound as the reality of the past eight hours came crashing down on me. I’d walked away—okay, snuck away—from everything I’d ever known. For a gal who admitted to four thousand years, give or take a few centuries, that was saying a lot. What did a long-time succubus do with her newfound life?
And who would have thought that turning my back on Hell would also turn me into an interplanetary fugitive?
One thing at a time, I told myself. As long as I wore the Shield Against Evil and bore the effects of Caitlin’s potion, I didn’t have to worry about the infernal bounty hunters. At least that was something. “I have to think things through. Figure out what to do first.”
He looked at me long and hard, those sea-green eyes measuring me. His voice soft, he asked, “Do you have a place to go to? Friends or family who are expecting you?”
If I saw any of my friends or family, I would run like fuck the other way. “No, but that’s okay. I’ll get a hotel room for now while I decide on a more permanent option.”
“So you’ve got some money.”
I nodded. “Some.” At least, I did until Caitlin woke up and realized I’d, um, borrowed her wallet.
“Do you have a job?”
The words escaped my lips before I could stop them: “Not anymore.” With a carefree shrug, I added, “Guess I have to find a new one.”
He paused, as if he were absorbing my words. “I’m sure you’ll find something.” Smiling, he pushed my suitcase in front of him. “Come on, I’ll walk you to Hotel New York. It’s just across the street. I’m not sure what the rate is, but we can find out.”
We. Ooh, I liked that. As we headed through a wall of people, I asked him, “You always help strangers in need?”
“I serve and protect,” he said. “It’s what I do.”
“Romantic. A poet’s eyes, and now a poet’s words.” Then I groaned. “Tell me I didn’t say that out loud.”
Laughing, he said, “I won’t tell if you won’t.” His eyes sparkled when he laughed, like the sun dancing on the ocean. “You didn’t get the reference, huh?”
I shrugged. “Should I have?” Other than a passing familiarity with recording artists, I was woefully out of touch with pop culture. Mental note: Watch more television.
“Nah, that’s okay.” His gaze lingered on mine. “You know, you look familiar. I’m good with faces, and I’d remember if I’d seen you before, so that’s not it. But there’s something about you…”
A blush crept up my face as he scrutinized me. “Oh? Maybe it’s my dazzling personality?”
“That must be it.” Smiling, he shook his head. “I swear I’ve seen you before.”
I looked up at him, at the broad, chiseled lines of his face. I pictured him with his eyes closed, with his hair tousled from sleep and his body gleaming with sweat—there was no air-conditioning or central air in his apartment, and it was a hot night for September in the city…
And in that moment, I placed him.
Oh crap, why didn’t I recognize him before? And more—what did this mean? If only I could talk to Megaera. Forget about dearly wishing I had my best friend to turn to; she was a Fury, closely linked with the Fates. Meg could read meaning in the clouds. Either that, or she faked it with the best of them.
In my mind, I heard Meg’s voice whisper, We all do what we must.
And over that, another voice, full of sadness and wounded pride: If only you were right.
“Jesse? You’ve gone pale. You okay?”
I turned away from Paul and kept walking,
