Soul Stripper (8 page)

My fingertips sprawled out over his office door, and with a light push, it opened. I walked inside, pretty used to entering his office whenever I wanted. Behind his desk in the window he had a new quartz I had never seen before. It was large, probably half my size. The Newton’s cradle was swinging wildly from side to side, a heavy
click
sounding out each moment the swinging ball made contact with the center balls.

“What in the . . .” My words trailed off. I thought back to our conversation the night before about the Newton’s cradle signifying a higher immortal. I looked over at Kayce, who had already plopped down in one of Lucien’s plush chairs. I gestured to the Newton’s cradle. “He must be having a meeting with some of the higher-ups.”

Kayce pulled out a nail file and nodded. “Any idea how long we’re gonna have to wait?”

I shrugged and walked over toward the quartz. I wondered what it was doing here. It wasn’t here two nights ago. Maybe he requested it and that’s what the meeting was about. I didn’t know much about quartz and crystals and stuff. I knew they held some sort of magic, but you had to be a powerful demon or succubi in order to cast the spells. I reached out my hand to touch the smooth stone.

“Monica, no!”

It was too late. I brushed my fingertip over the sharpest point of the crystal like Sleeping Beauty over the spindle. With a scream, I pulled back my hand, holding my throbbing finger. Blood trickled down, over my palm. I stared at the cut for a few seconds. “Oh shit. Not again.”

Kayce grabbed a tissue from Lucien’s desk and wrapped it around my finger. “You have to be more careful.” She froze, applying pressure to my wound. “Does this mean . . . could you die? Are you no longer immortal? I mean, you had to get stitches in your leg!” The blood drained from Kayce’s face, leaving it a pale cream color.

A loud crack sounded from behind me, and I immediately felt tingles traveling up my spine as if someone were playing it like piano keys.

“Hello, Monica. It’s been a while, has it not?”

“J
ules.” A sharp breath pierced my lungs. “Yes, it has been a while.” I pivoted slowly so that I could face him. He wasn’t exactly an ArchAngel yet—but he was well on his way to that status. I guess we both sort of were before I fucked things up. He was a mentor of sorts back in my angel days. He looked exactly the same—of course. None of us changed. Unless we were transformed from angel to succubus, that is. His wavy blond hair hung about midway down his neck; strands twisted around each other, curling over his ears. His angular features were masculine as ever. A strong nose, chin dimple, high cheekbones, and full lips were enough to make any girl swoon.

Back in the day, the two of us were not only colleagues, we were friends. One might have even called us best friends. I looked down at my finger, the sight of blood making me queasy all over again. “I need to sit down,” and I plopped into a chair that suddenly appeared behind me. Having him there before me as I bled all over Lucien’s seventies-inspired carpet was a bit much to handle all at once. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths so not to pass out again.

 

 

“This is more than love, Jules. It’s . . . I mean, it’s . . .
lust.”
We both knew lust was one of the most dangerous of the deadly sins. My head jerked up to look into his eyes. His face had lowered much closer to mine. “Julian . . .” I breathed. His name was a whisper on my lips.

“Julian,
no!
Stop!”

 

“Here.” Jules’s voice sounded more gruff than I remembered in my dreams. The tunneling vision surrounding my eyes came into focus again as I woke up out of my faint. “Let me help.” He took me by the wrist and applied pressure to the wound. “I’m not allowed to heal you, but this should speed up the natural process your body will take.”

“Thanks, Jules,” I whispered.

Julian looked at me, taking in my haphazard appearance. “I like the new look. You seem more . . . natural. Than your usual
stripper
costumes, that is.” I opened my mouth to throw a retort back at him, but he cut me off before I could. “So, what’s going on here?”

“Well”—between my teeth, I chewed the fleshy corner of my mouth—“we were hoping you could tell us.”

“Lucien’s not here?”

“He’s in the back, in a meeting. We don’t know how long he’ll be.”

He nodded. A moment of sadness flashed across his cherub face.

“Do you know what the meeting is about, Jules?” My eyes narrowed at him. He seemed to know more than he was letting on. But that was typical of angels in general.

He and Lucien worked together a lot as the demon and angel in charge of Nevada. True that Jules wasn’t
quite
Lucien’s equal yet in terms of status, but he’d get there soon. Many would think this would make them enemies—in actuality their jobs crossed paths often. The two considered each other an integral part of the world. Without good, there would be no evil. Without temptation, there would be no salvation. And so on and so forth.

Whatever it was Julian knew, he quickly brushed it aside. “So you have lost your powers, then?” He asked looking at me.

“Yes!” I started, “How did you kno—”

“You’re bleeding.” He gestured to my hand, his face serious. “The main question we need to answer is why. Obviously, Lucien will be able to help more with this than I.”

The
click-clicking
of the Newton’s Cradle was so loud, it sounded like a thunder crack every second. I walked over to his desk, picked it up, and allowed it to calibrate to my powers—which at the moment were virtually nonexistent. I could still hear and see supernaturally well. But that was about it. Basically one step above mortals. I slipped the desk toy into my bag, which muted the noise at least a little bit.

“Can’t you help me?” I looked up at Julian. He was still a do-gooder—an angel who got his rocks off on helping people. “I mean, I’m not really a succubus anymore—am I? Not without my powers?”

Kayce looked at me in shock. “Monica, why are you in such a rush to change this? Isn’t this, like, your dream?”

“What are you talking about?” It was hard for me to focus on anything other than the damn clicking coming from inside my purse.

“This is your chance”—Kayce walked toward me—“to live a fucking normal life—to have sex with whomever you want without repercussions. Don’t you get it? You and Drew can be together now.”

I froze, stunned. To my right, I heard Julian intake a sharp breath, wincing at Kayce’s bad language. Or maybe at the thought of me having sex with someone.

He leaned into me, his breath like a cool autumn breeze on my neck. “Take care of yourself, Monica. I’ll check in on you soon.”

Another crack sounded through the air and Julian was gone. From deep inside my purse, the clicking of the Newton’s Cradle abruptly stopped, silencing Lucien’s office. Within seconds, the clicking resumed.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Lucien stood in the doorway, arms crossed. He sniffed the air, his mouth tightening at the scent. “I smell peppermint—Jules has been here, hasn’t he?” We nodded, and he looked over at Kayce and smirked, running a tongue along his bottom lip. “You come here to finally join my group of girls?” Lucien had been trying to get Kayce to strip ever since the two first met.

“Yeah, I was thinking of starting next week—right after you go fuck yourself.”

I stepped between them, my hands up like a crossing guard. “Okay, you two. Could you settle this another time? I have actual problems here.”

“That makes two of us, Monica,” Lucien said quietly, and ran his hand through a head of damp hair.

I paused, taking in the fact that Lucien looked more stressed than I’d ever seen him. His eyes drooped, and his olive skin lacked its usual luster. “What’s going on? What was the meeting about?”

He sighed. “I can’t tell you too much—just, well, you know the missing succubi I mentioned?” I nodded as Kayce looked on in confusion. “There’s quite a bit more to it than that. They aren’t missing—they’re dead. Some sort of serial killer here in Vegas is putting all his effort in killing
my
succubi.”

“They were murdered? How do you murder a succubus?” I’d never thought of it. I mean—we were
immortal
.

“It’s not easy, but there are ways. The main way is to strip the soul from the body.” He cleared his throat and shook his head. “You know, I really can’t tell you any more. Sorry, ladies. Thanks for stopping by, though.” He walked to the door and held it open for us.

Both Kayce and I stood there, our eyes narrowing. “We came here for a reason, you know,” Kayce said, daggers in her voice.

“Oh, right,” he said, eyes rolling. “I forgot—your ‘problem.’ ”

“Look, asshole.” Kayce went nose-to-nose with Lucien. I sat down in the chair by his desk, my brain starting to throb like something I hadn’t felt since my mortal days. “Monica lost her powers. She can’t teleport, no shapeshifting, and no extra strength. She can’t even sense other immortals. And based on the fucking blood dripping down her finger and stitches in her leg, I’m guessing that she could be in some danger here. We could use a little help from our ArchDemon asshole.”

Lucien’s face softened and he walked over to where I sat. “You lost your powers?”

I nodded and pulled up my jeans to show him the stitches.

“Shit.” He stood abruptly and paced around the room. “Shit, shit, shit.” He just kept muttering profanities under his breath. “I just assumed when Drew called that you were blowing off work last night.”

Kayce was one step behind him with each pace. “Lucien—it’s nice to know you’re concerned, but the bad language isn’t offering her any solutions.”

“Just shut up!” he yelled, and put a hand in Kayce’s face. His voice boomed, the blow of power knocking her back, reminding her just who the boss was when it came down to it.

He knelt back down in front of me. “Monica, listen to me. You have to be very careful. This is the trend with the murders—a succubus gets her powers taken and her mortal body is murdered. It’s as close to death as we can get.”

I swallowed. “Where does the soul go?”

He shook his head back and forth. “I don’t know. So far, it just seems as though the girls cease to exist.”

“Who’s powerful enough to pull off such a strong spell?” I asked.

“That’s the problem. We can’t find this guy because it has to be an immortal with extreme power to create a vessel to strip an immortal soul. But based on the crime scenes, we’re having a lot of trouble linking the actual murders to anything arcane or immortal. Once the soul is stripped, the murders themselves could be committed by a human.”

I sat there in silence for a moment. I could feel Lucien’s eyes burning my skin. I knew he was watching my every move.

“So—I might die?”

“No.” He spoke firmly, and when I looked over at Kayce, she had her face buried in her hands. “No,” he repeated. “The difference is, with the past succubi, the transition happened fast. They lost their powers and within twenty-four hours, their bodies were dead. There was no time to protect. No time to assess who was around them. How long have you been without powers?” His eyes were like two stones, unblinking.

“Yesterday was when I first noticed something was off. But it mostly felt like I was just low on energy. This morning was when I woke up completely drained.”

“Okay, so we’re at the first-day mark.” Lucien shook his head and placed his hand over mine. “You’re going to be safe. I’m going to keep you safe.”

He stood up and walked over to his desk, grabbing his phone. “I need you here immediately.” That’s all he said into the phone, nothing else. Within seconds there was a
crack
and Jules stood before us again.