Page 2 of The Succubus's Song

“I can promise you they’re not,” Mara snapped. “They’re being polite to you while texting their girlfriends to come save them.”

“H-hey!” The man pointed a finger at Mara, his anger deflated by another round of increasingly loud belches. A familiar sense of outrage ran through Mara’s veins. She put her drink down and leaned towards him, not missing the way he leered down her shirt.

Mara unsheathed one of her claws, the sound drowned out by the noise. Her pointer finger evolved into a singular long, black talon, which she efficiently stabbed through the back of the drunkard’s hand without a second thought. His beer spilled as she pinned his palm to the countertop, watching with effervescent glee as he let out a garbled shout.

Mara blocked the sight from the dance floor with her body. A salacious, predatory grin slid across her face. She let her glamour slip, revealing glowing red eyes and elongated canines. She flicked her tongue over her teeth, relishing in the sour scent of the man’s fear. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he tried to put as much space between them as he could, but Mara kept him skewered to the table.

She watched with a terrifying expression, laughing like a fiend, as the colors from the flashing lights illuminated his terror-stricken face.

“Leave,” Mara hissed. “And if I ever see you back here, bothering women again, it won’t be your hand that I leave bloody.” Mara flicked her gaze to the man’s crotch. He blanched and sputtered a babble of apologies, clearly understanding Mara’s threat.

Mara rolled her eyes and retracted her claws. The offender clutched his hand to his chest and ran off, pushing his way through the gyrating crowd towards the exit.

“And you look prettier when you smile!” Mara called after him, her mood taking another turn for the worse. She had never enjoyed how much joy it gave her, terrorizing men, but it was hard to fight her baser impulses these days.

What she’d done to the drunkard was tame by even her own standards. In the past, she would have seduced him, taken him home, and disposed of him outright. It was something she was trying to put behind her…and it was getting harder since the magic returned.

Mara dropped some cash on the bar to cover her tab and slipped outside. It was late spring in Edinburgh, and the air still held onto some of its winter chill. The streets were quiet, not yet full of patrons who were stumbling home after last call. It was the dead of the night that Mara loved best, when people were either asleep in their beds or still firmly ensconced in a pub booth. She took a deep breath, the cool air helping to appease her nervous energy.

There was a faint taste of magic in the city, and she did her best to ignore it. Mara was practically nocturnal again, another side effect of recent events that made her wonder how much time she had left before she lost the traces of her humanity.

* * *

Mara waited until sunrise before she made her way to the university library. The library was infinitely larger on the inside than its exterior revealed, which was another handy use of magic. The University of Edinburgh had become a refuge for Scotland’s magical inhabitants throughout their cursed years. It provided the perfect cover for all the research they underwent to attempt to revive Scotland’s magic.

In the end, Calum, their fae prince, needed to find Fern McEwan, his mate and a witch’s descendant, to break the curse. Some of their friends returned to Faerie when the veil finally came down, but most of them only visited and continued their lives at the university.

Even this early in the morning, the library was teeming with activity. Sprites and brownies whizzed through the air, returning books to their proper places, and witches shared tea under the soft glow of banker’s lamps as they poured over ancient-looking volumes. Each of them greeted Mara as she passed, giving her a nod or a muted hello. She had earned their respect as one of Calum’s closest confidants, but she was still a succubus. Old habits and prejudices died hard.

Mara took the long way towards the back of the library, taking a few extra minutes to breathe in the smell of books and ink. It never failed to soothe her, and she already felt marginally better when she knocked on Emmett’s office door.

“C’mon in,” Emmett beckoned her inside, and Mara stepped in with a flourish.

“I bring tribute,” Mara snickered, dropping a greasy bag of breakfast sandwiches on Emmett’s desk.

Emmett O’Neill was a wulver and Calum’s second-in-command. After Calum and Fern spent Christmas in Faerie, they decided to extend their stay through the spring term. Emmett was now temporarily in charge of the Office of Highland Magic in Calum’s absence, and Mara didn’t envy the job.

Emmett eyed the bag on his desk and raised a brow at Mara without a word. Mara giggled, pulling a small box out of her purse and plopping it in front of him.

“And some Walkers,” she smiled.

“Ah.” Emmett’s face came alive. “That’s much better.” He put the box of biscuits in his desk drawer, and Mara unwrapped their sandwiches.

Mara thought that she had undergone a drastic transformation when Scotland’s magic fell after the Battle of Culloden, but Emmett might have her beat. She wondered if he even remembered his old life as a Tanist and bloody enforcer of the Highland’s oldest wulver clan. It was hard to reconcile her memories of Emmett cracking skulls with a battle axe with the mild-mannered, biscuit obsessed researcher who sat in front of her.

“How’s everything going?” Mara asked, fighting back a pleasant moan as she sank her teeth into the gooey sandwich.

There is nothing that cheese and bread can’t fix.

Emmett grunted, running a hand through his long hair and wiping a bit of egg off his lip.

“This is chaos. There’s a reason I wanted to work in the library, Mara,” he groaned. “Do you know how many people need me on a daily basis? I don’t know how Calum does it all.”

Mara snickered, “I’m sure that you’re doing just fine. It’s only temporary, anyway.”

Emmett put his sandwich down and studied her, making Mara shift uncomfortably in her seat.

“How are you doing?” he asked her pointedly, and Mara had to look away. Emmett waited a minute and when she didn’t respond, he asked a different question.

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