Straight To Heaven. Michelle Scott

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      “You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” I said sourly.

      William sat next to me on the bed, and when I didn’t move he bounced up and down a little to get my attention. “Neutral walls, no-nonsense bedding, not even a romantic fireplace or a TV with dirty movies. This is the un-sexiest bedroom I’ve ever encountered.” He winked. “It’s like all you do in here is sleep.”

      I wasn’t sure if he was trying to tease me out of my depression or seduce me. With William, it was never easy to tell. “Sleeping is all I do in here,” I said.

      “Then let’s fix that.” He took my hand and began kissing the tip of each finger. “I promise that I can make you forget your troubles.”

      I drew my hand away from his. Too late, I realized that I should have entered through the kitchen. “Is that why you were spying on me at the post office?” I asked.

      “Maybe.” He reached for me again. “You know that I want you, Lilith. Very, very much.” His dark eyes held a wanton invitation.

      It was hard to resist William’s supernatural allure, especially when he had been so kind and understanding only a few minutes before. For all his arrogance and selfishness, I knew that there was good buried inside his heart, no matter how deep it was or how hard he tried to hide it. Plus, the thought of using sex to make my pain go away had its appeal. Feeling anything, even lust, would be better than the guilt and anxiety that constantly threatened to break through my defenses. Right now, I wanted to put my arms around William’s waist and rub my cheek against the stubble on his chin. I wanted to feel his hands slip under my shirt and beneath my bra.

      At the same time, I also wanted a real relationship, something he insisted that we would never have. I moved farther down the bed. “You promise to make me forget my problems, but will you also promise to stay with me once the passion’s over?”

      His expression clouded over. “You know better than that. Pleasure, Lil. Pure pleasure. That’s what I can offer you.”

      As good as that sounded, it wasn’t enough. “I’m sorry,” I said, “but no.”

      At that moment, I heard the front door open and my daughter and niece come inside. “Mom,” Grace yelled. “Mom!? Are you here?”

      I stood up. “I think you’d better leave.”

      William looked sulky, but he stood up as well. He cupped my chin in his hand. “I’m not giving up on the idea of you and me and that bed. Someday, Lil, you’ll appreciate what I have to offer.”

      Unless that someday included a genuine commitment, I wasn’t about to let it happen. And since demons weren’t allowed to love, it wasn’t likely that either of us would get what we wanted.

       Chapter Two

      That afternoon, I lounged poolside while my neighbor, Vickie Ballard, filled me in on the neighborhood gossip. Grace and Ari, my niece, swam in the pool, doing their best to avoid Vickie’s three jet-fueled monsters who were splashing and screaming and generally raising hell.

      Vickie had just been telling me about how Debbie Crenshaw from down the street was back in rehab, and how Casey Scarsdale from next door had another new boyfriend, and that Sue Bristol had caught her husband doing a live web chat while he was dressed in her lacy bra and panties.

      I’d always been the queen bee of the neighborhood, but while it felt good to hold court with the neighbors again, I was hardly listening to Vickie. Vickie’s gossip was like an overly sweet dessert: tasty at first, but sickening after you’ve had your fill.

      Annoyed that I wasn’t lapping up her precious tidbits of scandal and asking for more, Vickie went silent. She looked over the top of her sunglasses, her eyes traveling from the kidney-shaped pool, to the bricked patio and the extravagant landscaping, and then finally resting on the outdoor furniture that Pottery Barn had delivered the previous week. I could almost feel the vibrations from her buzzing brain as she tried to calculate the total cost.

      “Looks like you’re doing pretty well for yourself, Lilith,” Vickie finally said. “You must have taken Ted to the cleaners in the divorce.”

      Obviously, I couldn’t confess that I was working for the Devil. So, instead of telling every bit of the truth, I went for the abridged version. “My insurance company finally came through for me, and the payoff was very generous.” But only because Helen Spry had pulled a few strings on my behalf.

      “Really,” Vickie said, impressed. “I wish I had your insurance policy.”

      Yeah right, I thought. You couldn’t afford the premiums. She wouldn’t survive a day as a succubus. But I had to admit that although the job was awful, the benefits were terrific. The rebuilt house and the new pool were only part of the package. I also received a mysterious – and extremely generous – weekly deposit into my bank account. This was another reason why I had given in and embraced my role as a succubus. Being poor sucked. I was tired of worrying over every penny, having to return groceries because I didn’t have the money to pay for them, and avoiding phone calls from collection agencies. William had been right; I needed to get over my guilty conscience. Besides, I only tempted people to sin. Ultimately, the choice to do wrong was theirs.

      Vickie smiled, but she was still in viper mode. “So what they say about karma must be true. Do something good, and good will come back to you.” She nodded at Ariel who was climbing out of the pool. My niece wore a Marilyn Manson T-shirt over her swimsuit and had used a black Sharpie to give herself an enormous skull-and-crossbones tattoo on her left cheek. “You took in that little juvenile delinquent, and the universe has gifted you with a lovely new house.” Karma might have been smiling on me, but Vickie wasn’t. “Let’s just hope she doesn’t burn this one down, too.”

      I wanted to smack her with a really good comeback, but before I could, I felt a shiver in the air which meant someone from the otherworld was about to pay me a visit. This time, it wasn’t William but Patrick Clerk, Miss Spry’s assistant, who walked from the house and out onto the patio.

      “Bon jour, Mr. Clerk!” Grace waved from the top of the water slide. This was another part of my new life: integrating my mundane existence with my supernatural one. No more sneaking around for me. Well, almost no sneaking around. Of course, no one knew the real reason why Mr. Clerk visited me, but hiding my otherworldly guests was too stressful. Grace and Ariel knew who Mr. Clerk was, they just didn’t know what I did for him.

      “C’est la vie?” Grace asked. Now that I’d become rich again, I’d bought Grace the French horn that she’d so wanted. Since learning to play it, she had become fascinated with all things French. She ate brie, referred to every kind of bread as a baguette, and even wore a beret, despite the fact that Ariel made fun of her for it.

      Mr. Clerk returned Grace’s question with a nod. “Trés bien.” Mr. Clerk, thin, gray-haired, and fussy, was dressed, as always, in white. White linen pants, perfectly creased, and a white T-shirt with a pair of dark glasses hanging from the neckline. He glowered at Ariel when she splashed him. “Lilith, we need to speak.”

      “Who’s this?” Vickie asked.

      “My, uh, insurance agent,” I said.

      Mr. Clerk’s eyebrows СКАЧАТЬ