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Knowing this in advance, I had brought a stack of bills, and Bastien and I took great amusement in seeing just how well the piano players could keep up with our increasingly older and more obscure requests. Bastien and I sang along beautifully. Shape-shifting, in addition to so many other benefits, could modify one's voice and vocal cords. The piano players had an astounding knowledge of our requests, and we were so impressed - and drunk - by the end of the night that we gave them a hefty tip.
Before we could leave, however, Bastien made me wait to hear one more request. "I slapped a fifty down with it," he said. "They've got to play it soon. I picked it just for you."
"If it's 'Superfreak,' I walk," I warned.
He laughed. "You'll know it when you hear it. It reminded me of you and your writer. "
Sure enough, I immediately knew which song his silly sense of humor had led him to. The smile cracking his face was sort of a giveaway too. Pulling half of me onto his lap, he sang along loudly with Fiona Apple's lyrics:
"I've been a bad, bad girl
I've been careless
With a delicate man
And it's a sad, sad world
When a girl will break a boy
Just because she can. "
"You're truly a creature of hell," I told him, trying to wiggle away. "You know that, don't you?"
"I just tell it like it is." He held onto me and kept singing.
"Heaven help me
For the way I am
Save me from
These evil deeds
Before I get them done..."
When we finally left the bar, both of us laughing and humming, we passed a group of girls even more drunk than us. A few of them gave Bastien open looks of invitation, and I glanced at him expectantly. He shook his head.
"Too easy. Besides, I'd rather go home with you. So to speak."
He walked me back toward my apartment, holding my arm as he had once done when social mores dictated it for anyone of good breeding. The pavement was slick from earlier rain, and a moist chill hung in the air. Not far away, the Space Needle gleamed watchfully above the nearby buildings; it would have Christmas lights on it soon. Bastien tightened his hold on my arm and turned his gaze absentmindedly toward the cloudy sky for a while before looking over at me.
" Fleur ,do you want to know why I'm so gung-ho about this Dana business?"
I willed myself to sober up, suspecting something big was about to come. "You mean other than your righteous fury at her?"
He smiled gently and looked down at the pavement, watching our feet. "I'm in trouble. Big trouble." He sighed. "You ever heard of a demon named Barton?"
"No. Should I have?"
"Maybe. He works in Chicago. Very high up. Very powerful. He's one of those who expects 'favors' from his staff."
I nodded in understanding. It was one of the occupational hazards succubi and incubi faced, and probably something else Seth would be happier not knowing about. As workers in the sex industry, so to speak, our demonic supervisors often thought we wouldn't mind one more "customer." Many saw it as our duty. Whatever his other failings, Jerome at least had never demanded anything of that nature from me.
"So...anyway, Barton has this succubus named Alessandra. Relatively new. You know, a century or so. Beautiful. She has as good an eye for exquisite physical detail as you. And she's bright. Wicked sense of humor. Outgoing."
I stared at him in astonishment. "Are you in love, Bastien?"
"No, but I was - am - very attracted to her. Hard not to be. We got to know each other, and well, one thing sort of led to another..."
"As it often does with you."
"Yes," he admitted ruefully. "But let me tell you, it was amazing. That woman...wow."
"So how are you in trouble?"
"Well, the thing is, Barton's kind of possessive about his people. He expected Alessandra's body to be exclusively for his use - mortal business aside, of course."
"And he found out?"
"Yes. He turned unbelievably jealous." Contempt filled Bastien's voice. "Stupid emotion for our kind. Of course, demon or no, I suppose he might have had reason to feel insecure knowing his girlfriend had been with a sex-master like myself. I mean, once you go Bastien..."
"Keep telling the story, ego-master. What happened?"
"Well...to say he was pissed off would be an understatement. Honestly, I don't think I'd be enjoying your lovely company today if Janelle hadn't done some serious intervening." Janelle was Bastien's archdemoness in Detroit. "But mostly she just protected me from physical torture. Everything else is a mess. My career is in shambles. Barton has powerful friends, and Janelle's made it clear she's not going to cover my ass anymore."
We had reached my building and stood outside it now. He ran a hand through his dark curls, face suddenly weary. "I'm on everyone's shit list all of a sudden. Plans are already in motion to transfer me somewhere else, and I know it's going to be horrific. Like Guam. Or Omaha. That's why I need this Dana thing. A big hit like this - a public humiliation for the other side. It'll put me on top again. They won't be able to punish me, not if I've got a takedown like that on my record."
I started to understand his obsession with the radio host. "But the takedown isn't exactly taking."
"I don't know what else to do. I've tried all the old tricks, all the textbook moves plus a few exclusive Bastien moves. None of it's working."
I reached out to him. "You might have to accept that she's got a strong will,Bas.It happens."
"I know." He sounded so miserable, it broke my heart.
"Hey, come on. Don't give up the fight yet. I taught you everything you know, remember? We'll find a way out of this. We'll get that wench wet yet."
He laughed and brushed a finger against my cheek. "You always make me feel better when I'm around you, you know that? It's one of the wonderful things about you. That and - if the rumors are true - your mouth. "
"The rumors are true, and I'm going to help you with this, you'll see. Besides, nothing else works on her, there's always hard liquor, right?"
"Ah yes, the old standby." He hugged me tightly and kissed each cheek. "Good night, my sweet. Thanks for a lovely evening."
I kissed him back. "Anytime."
I had my hand on the door handle when I thought of something.
"Hey, Bastien?"
He turned from where he'd been walking away down the sidewalk. "Yes?"
"Why'd you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Alessandra. You must have known how Barton felt about her, right?"
"I did."
"So why risk it?"
He looked at me like he could scarcely believe I had to ask. "Because I could. Because she was beautiful and wonderful and I wanted her."
I knew better than to argue with that. It was textbook incubus logic. Smiling, I went inside.
CHAPTER 13
Min, Doug's saxophonist, rummaged through the array of liquor bottles on Wyatt's counter. "I don't think he has any," he finally said. "Can you make a gimlet without lime juice?"
"Um, no," I replied. "That kind of defeats the whole purpose. "
"Oh. Okay. Well, then, you just want a shot or something?" He held up a bottle of - God help me - Skyy vodka.
"I think I'll pass." I surveyed the humming, thumping party around me. Tons of people had showed up as usual; I doubted the band even knew half of them. The wages of fame, I guessed. Also as usual, there were drugs and drinks aplenty for those who wanted such things - as long as one's vices didn't stray to lime juice, apparently. I turned back to Min. "You seen Alec tonight?"
"Nope. Said he'd be here. I hope he shows soon."
Min shifted restlessly, and I wondered just how many people Alec was stringing along. The whole band, after all, had displayed that crazy, uncaring behavior.
I'd spent most of the day planning for tonight, trying to figure out what it would take to get information and possibly the drug itself from Alec. Finally, as the party drew nearer, I accepted that I was overthinking the matter. Alec was hardly a criminal mastermind. If I wanted something from him, it was a safe bet that the removal of clothing and an orifice would suffice.
With that in mind, I'd dressed for the part in another little dress. Like the one I'd worn to the last concert, this too had a V-neck, straps, and short skirt. Unlike that one - which had been cotton and more like a sundress - this one was silk and looked kind of like a nightgown. Its rich, emerald green mirrored the green flecks in my eyes. I'd made sure of that, enhancing the color in both.
