"Why so blue, Kincaid?"
I looked up from the information desk's computer screen to see Doug leaning lazily over the counter's edge. "Am I?"
"Sure. You have the saddest look on your face I've ever seen. It's breaking my heart."
"Oh. Sorry. Just tired, I guess."
"Well, then, get out of here. Your shift's over."
Glancing down, I read the time on the computer. Five-oh-seven. "I guess it is."
He eyed me askance as I rose listlessly from the chair and made my way out from behind the desk. "You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. Like I said, just tired. I'll see you around."
I started to walk away. "Oh, hey, Kincaid?"
"Yeah?"
"You're friendly with Mortensen, aren't you?"
"Sort of," I conceded cautiously.
"Do you know what happened to him? He used to be here, like, every day, and now he's been gone all week. It's freaking Paige out. She thinks we offended him or something. "
"I don't know. We're not that friendly. Sorry." I shrugged. "Maybe he's sick. Or out of town."
"Maybe."
I left the store, stepping out into the dark autumn evening. Friday in Queen Anne brought people in droves, drawn by the area's assortment of activities and nightlife. Ignoring them, lost in my own thoughts, I walked over to my car, parked a block away. Immediately, a vulture in a red Honda slowed down and put her signal on, realizing my spot was about to be vacated.
"You ready for this?" Carter asked me, materializing in the passenger seat.
I fastened my seatbelt. "Ready as I'll ever be."
We drove up to the University District in silence, a hundred questions on my mind. Since removing Seth from my apartment last week, the angel had told me not to worry, that he would see to the writer's recovery. I'd still worried anyway, of course, about both Seth and the deal I'd made with Jerome. I was about to become the single greatest source of chaos and temptation in Seattle; even Hugh's stellar track record wouldn't look so good... er, bad, anymore. I would be more than the slave Helena had claimed I was. The very thought made me ill.
"I'll be with you," Carter told me soothingly as we approached Seth's door minutes later. The angel flickered briefly in my vision, and I realized he'd gone invisible to mortal eyes, though not to mine.
"What does he know?"
"Not much. He's been awake more and more these last couple of days, and I've told him a little, but really... I think he's been waiting for you."
Sighing, I nodded and stared at the door. Suddenly I felt unable to move.
"You can do this," Carter said gently.
Nodding again, I turned the door handle and stepped inside. Seth's condo looked much the same as when I'd last been here, the kitchen still bright and cheery, the living room lined with boxes of unpacked books. Faint music drifted from the bedroom. I thought it was U2, but I didn't recognize the song. Moving toward the sounds, I reached Seth's bedroom, pausing in the doorway, afraid to cross the threshold.
He was in bed, half sitting up, propped up by pillows. In his hands he held The Green Fairy Book, looking to be about a third of the way through it. He looked up at my approach, and I nearly sagged in relief to see how much better he looked. His color was back, his eyes bright and alert. Only that facial hair looked ragged and unkempt, the result of no shaving for a week, I guessed. That answered my question about whether or not Seth had maintained the thin, neat beard on purpose.
He reached for a remote on the bedside table and turned the music off. "Hey."
"Hey."
I took a few more steps into the room, afraid to get any closer. "Do you want to sit?" he asked.
"Sure." Cady and O'Neill's faces scrutinized me from the bulletin board as I brought a chair alongside Seth. I sat down, looked at him, and then looked away, unable to handle the depth of those amber-brown eyes after seeing into his mind.
Our old silence fell between us, the progress we'd made in conversation banished to the winds. Seth would not take the lead this time. As Carter had observed, the writer was waiting for me. I looked back up, forcing myself to meet his eyes. I had to do this. I had to do the explaining here, but I balked at it. It was ironic, I thought. Me, who half the time didn't know when to shut up. Me, famed for always having some catchy quip at the ready.
Knowing it would never get any easier, I took a deep breath and let it all out, conscious of the weight of heaven at my back and the hell I'd just consented to stretching out before me.
"The truth is... the truth is, I don't really work in a bookstore. I mean, I do, but that's not really why I'm here, what my purpose is. The truth is that I'm a succubus, and I know you've probably heard of us before - or think you've heard of us before, but I doubt what you've heard is correct..."
On I went. I told him. I told him everything. The rules of the succubus lifestyle, my dissatisfaction with it, why I wouldn't date people I liked. I told him about other immortals, angels and demons walking among us. I even explained about nephilim, hinting that Roman's presence in my apartment had been part of a lure on my part, but mostly skimming over the embarrassing circumstances Seth had found us in. On and on, I talked, not even knowing what I said half the time. I only knew I had to keep talking, keep trying to explain to Seth that which defied explanation.
I finally reached the end, my stream of discourse exhausted. "So. So, I guess that's it. You can believe it or not, but the forces of good and evil - as humans perceive them, at least - are alive and well in the world, and I'm one of them. This city is filled with supernatural agents and entities; humans just don't realize it. It's probably just as well, really. Otherwise, if they knew too much about us, they might find out how pathetic and fucked up our lives actually are."
I shut up, thinking if Seth hadn't seen what he had already seen, he probably would have thought I was crazy. Hell, even after it all, he still probably thought I was crazy. He would be justified. Those brown eyes weighed me and my words in silence, and an annoying wetness welled up in my own eyes. I looked away to hide it, blinking rapidly, because while succubi might be accused of doing all sorts of bizarre things around mortal men, I was pretty sure crying wasn't one of them.
"You said... you said you used to be human." He spoke the words awkwardly, no doubt trying to grasp the whole concept of mortal and immortal. "How then... how did you become a succubus?"