Chapter Sixteen
The safe house looked almost as ornate as the castle they had left. As Isabel followed Oz and Gavin out of the car, she wondered once again whose side she was on – whose side anyone was on, in the complicated mess her life had become. The sky was lightening slightly in the east, and Gavin looked anxious to get inside of the building the car had taken them to. Does sunlight actually kill them, or is it just bad for them?
The door opened as they approached, and Isabel felt a shock of recognition, but as she looked more intently at the woman standing at the entry to the building, Isabel thought she had never seen her before in her life. “She’s a succubus, like you,” Oz told her. “Free – both of her makers killed.”
“Get inside,” the woman said. As Isabel passed her, she realized that the fact that the woman was another succubus was exactly what had caused her sense of recognition. The woman’s blonde hair cascaded in perfect waves to her waist, and her ripe – almost overripe – body strained at the fabric of her clothes. Her ice-blue eyes glowed with a kind of supernatural heat, and her lips curled in such a way that Isabel could well imagine that any man who saw her would immediately picture himself pushing his cock between them.
Gavin and Oz both seemed to shudder slightly as they passed the woman, and Isabel was pleased to see that the magic – which she couldn’t use on her two makers – wasn’t something to which they were completely immune. She remembered Gavin telling her that with enough time spent in close quarters with a succubus, even strong vampires and angels would become susceptible to their abilities; maybe that was why they couldn’t stay at the safe house for very long.
“There’s a light-tight room at the end of the hallway,” the woman told Gavin. “The rest of the house is more or less normal,” she added to Oz and Isabel. The succubus smiled at Isabel. “Just finishing up your transition, aren’t you?” Isabel nodded.
“I think I’m almost there,” she admitted.
“Starting to get the little psychic vibes?” The woman looked at her intently. Hear this? Isabel’s eyes widened.
“Wait, I can read minds?” The woman chuckled. Gavin left them, hurrying towards the light-tight room, and the succubus led Isabel and Oz towards a small, elegantly decorated living room.
“In a limited capacity,” the woman told her. “Mostly, you’ll be able to read – from a man – exactly what their deepest desire is. You’ll get it like a feeling, or like a craving. You’ll want nothing more than to suck them off, or hold your ankles while they plow you. But over time, it’ll become clearer, especially if you spend a lot of time around other super naturals like your angelic maker, here.”
“So when …” Isabel looked at Oz, feeling almost suspicious. “When you asked me what I wanted …”
“He was testing you, in more than one way,” the succubus said. “I made tea if you’d like it.” Isabel looked at the woman up and down, wondering.
“What’s your name? And how are you able to live like this?” The woman laughed and sat down.
“My name is Moira,” the blonde said. “And as to how I’m able to live like this, well, that much should be obvious.” Isabel shook her head.
“It isn’t,” she told Moira.
“Think about it for a moment,” Moira suggested. “I can give men everything they want – their deepest desires – and, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed, I can also convince them to pay whatever I want for it.” Moira smiled. “So I’ve made a tidy little fortune.”
“But how are you safe from the vampires?” Isabel looked at Oz; he hadn’t given her any indication in their time together that she would be able to live independently.
“The current war between the angels – and some of the other supes – and the vampire council is pretty new,” Moira said. “I became a succubus about …” she frowned, lost in thought. “Four hundred years ago. By the time the vampires tried to round me up, it was pretty easy to show them that they couldn’t contain me.”
“They couldn’t?” Moira shook her head.
“The longer you’re a succubus, the more you’ll be able to control your abilities,” Moira said. “And the more powerful they become.” Isabel shot an irritable glance at Oz, who hadn’t specifically told her that. “On the other hand, the hunger grows, at least for the first two hundred or so years,” Moira added.
“It grows?”
“At the peak of my hunger, I worked in a brothel and serviced twenty men per night on a regular basis,” Moira told her. She laughed, almost to herself. “Back then it was the only way I could reasonably feed as much as I needed to. Now, of course, there are other options.” She looked pointedly at Oz. “I have to admit, I envy you your makers.”
“Did the vampires kill your makers, or something else?” Moira grimaced.
“They killed my angel,” she replied. “Darius …” she shook her head. “He was always a risk-taker, always impulsive. Someone figured out what he was and took him out.” Moira looked at Oz again. “Are you sure you’re fully recovered from your ordeal?”
“As recovered as I need to be,” Oz said, smiling. “Isabel’s a prodigy.”
“So it would seem,” Moira said. “We have another twelve hours or so before Gavin can come out. Why don’t the two of you relax a bit?” She rose to her feet. “I have a client I need to get to.”