Page 14 of Wicked Succubus

Someone knocks on his door, startling us both away from each other.

“Agent Rodriguez,” he says as he leans back to his side, opens the door. He tosses a hoodie my way, the fabric soft and new. I catch it, noticing the words “FBI-SU Visitor” emblazoned on the back. Clearly, he expects me to wear it. I stay inside for a minute trying to shake off the effects the agent seems to have on my body. I slip the hoodie on, feeling its warmth envelop me. I stay inside for another minute, trying to shake off the effects the agent seems to have on my body.

When I open the door and get out, everyone watches me. I can’t tell if it’s the allure I have, or if it’s because they all think I’m the killer. Agent Cooper and his partner don’t wait for me, they walk right in. I jog to catch up to them. It’s even more chaotic here. People are split into small groups, talking, taking pictures, and collecting evidence from the body. My feet seem to move of their own accord, carrying me closer to the gruesome scene. Before my mind even registers what I’m doing, I’m pulled back by an older man wearing a scowl.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks.

“She’s with Agent Cooper,” another agent informs him.

“Ah, the possible suspect.” I try not to cringe at his words. There is nothing to be afraid of. I didn’t do it. “Did she come here to gloat?”

“Leave her alone, Agent Brown,” Agent Cooper says, towering over the shorter man.

Agent Brown looks up with a sneer, his fists clenching at his sides. A muscle in his jaw twitches as he meets Agent Cooper’s stare. Despite the height difference, Brown stands rigid, chin jutting out. His nostrils flare, and a vein in his forehead bulges angrily. Tension rolls off the two men in waves as they eye each other. Agent Cooper’s imposing frame looms over Brown, yet he shows no signs of backing down.

Agent Cooper adds in a lower, possessive tone, “She’s with me. She’s helping me with this case.”

Seeing the animosity simmering between them, their mutual dislike is obvious. There’s an unmistakable note of claim in Agent Cooper’s voice when he declares I’m assisting him.

“Whatever you say, Agent,” the man grunts.

I wonder what beef these men have. Why do they hate each other so much? Surely, I can’t be the cause of this much hostility. There has to be something more. I haven’t taken a good look yet, so I walk closer to the corpse, and when I lay eyes on her familiar face, my stomach drops. I know this girl.

Is someone messing with me?

Chapter 8

Killian

The address our boss gave us was to a seedy motel in an isolated, run-down industrial area, and after searching it thoroughly, we found nothing. When Tanner sent us here to find a Succubus, I was a little excited at the possibility of hunting down a monster we thought had been extinct, but there was no trail to follow. The cleanup crew did a great job of removing all the evidence. Those dumb fucks.

Or maybe there wasn’t anything here to begin with and Tanner just got bad intel. It’s happened before. We did find information about a murder that happened at this motel. It looks like the victim was a supernatural. Based on the markings left behind on the floor, it looked to be a ritual. I don’t know much of the details, but I didn’t ask either. That dead woman isn’t part of our mission.

I catch a faint whiff of something that smells absolutely irresistible. I notice Rhett sniffing the air, his senses on high alert.

“You smell that?” I ask.

He nods. There’s something enticing underneath the smell of bleach and disinfectant—an aroma so irresistible I want to drown myself in it. Sweet and spicy, warm and rich, like nothing I’ve encountered before.

“You think you can track the scent?” I ask, hopeful that he’ll say yes.

“No. It’s too faint,” Rhett says regretfully.

My shoulders slump slightly in disappointment. If it were anyone else, they probably wouldn’t have noticed that subtle deflation. But after years of working together, Rhett and I know each other so well. I take a deep breath and try to shake off the dissatisfaction.

“We need to ask the owner who paid for this room, just to cover our bases when Tanner asks for a progress report on the investigation. Going through the motions of his wild goose chase could buy us a few more days in town to track down the previous guests. Maybe we’ll find whoever left this scent behind and the trip won’t be for nothing,” Rhett suggests helpfully.

I nod, my determination returning. We make our way to the front desk where an older woman sits, eyes glued to her phone. As we approach, I smooth my features into an amiable expression. No need to alarm her with the full intensity of our focus. Rhett follows my lead, leaning casually against the counter beside me.

“Excuse me, miss,” I say politely to catch her attention. “We need a list of guests who have stayed in room 105.” The older lady looks up from her phone and drops it. We’ve probably scared her, two big guys showing up out of nowhere demanding information.

“I—” she stutters, before clearing her throat and speaking again. “I can’t give you that information,” she says, trying to hold eye contact with me but failing. If we were fae, we could have her eating from the palm of our hand, but because we’re not, we’re going to have to do this our way.

Rhett’s eyes go bronze as he goes into her mind, a telltale sign he’s tapping into his demonic abilities. He delves into her mind, weaving an illusion of fulfillment—a tantalizing promise of desires met that she cannot resist. It’s not always about physical desire, but sometimes the lure of feeling understood, appreciated, or whatever her mind craves most at the moment. As the illusion takes hold, her expression slackens, eyes glazed over as she stares into the distance, momentarily lost in the fabricated ecstasy Rhett has conjured. This distraction is our window.

I look through the papers in front of her, but there’s nothing important. It looks like a stack of homework assignments. I bend down and pull on one of the cabinets. There’s a bunch of snacks in this one. I walk to the other side and pull the one there. I shuffle through the papers and find the ones dated this year.

“Found it! I’ve got receipts for the past month. We’ll just have to track all of them down.” I leave the bigger stack behind, only taking fifteen sheets, but all I can think about is that scent. What is it with that smell that has me so riled up? “I’ll call in and ask Arcana’s tech department to trace these names.”

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