Page 79 of The Succubi's Choice

11

She awakes, still in the oddly tilted room in the too comfortable bed, and it’s daylight.

She thinks.

Light streams in through a skylight, one she didn’t see the night before, one that’s even more impractical, cause she’s fairly certain that the room he pulled her in wasn’t close to the top floor.

“Yeah he messed up the skylight.” The voice comes from next to her, jerking her in surprise.

Next to her, still in the suit, is Thomas. Obviously Thomas, not the Archdemon, sitting up on his phone, casual.

He grins at her, awkward. “Don’t worry, this isn’t the first time I’ve woken up next to someone.”

It must look like that, with the satin dress barely clinging on, the shoulder straps slipping down, her hair all messed up.

“We didn’t...”

“We’re at Erin’s house, right?” Thomas says, still gentle, still teasing. “He took you to an orgy and then made a room for you?”

She blinks at him, then rolls over and rubs her eyes, but her eyes aren’t that crunchy, for some reason. “What time is it?”

“Like, maybe 10 am?” He says, like it’s not a big deal.

She takes a moment, bleary eyed, before sighing and pushing herself up. “How long have you been here?” She asks, because bluntness is the only sort of shield she has like this. “And I didn’t sleep with him. Not like that.”

He shrugs. “Not judging, just joking. At least I know who you are.” He cracks his neck. “I think like thirty minutes? Maybe? Though he definitely conked the fuck out and did actual sleeping himself.”

She rubs her eyes again, and this is what being well rested must feel like, because she has way more energy than she should, and her arm even feels a bit better.

She shakes it out from underneath the sheets, and the angry black lines still claw around her skin, but the redness has gone down, making it look way more like a really gnarly, really amateur tattoo.

“Well that’s not good,” Thomas says, with a raised eyebrow that’s somehow entirely different from the Archdemon’s raised eyebrow. “It’s been a bit since I’ve seen you, hasn’t it?”

“A little, yeah,” she says, and she pushes herself up to sitting upright, and it’s a miracle, she doesn’t even feel like she needs coffee. “Went to a weird thing with Not-Thomas, got a bit tortured from my handlers because of it, and he took me here as a sorta...gift? Saying sorry? Favor?”

His eyebrows rise steadily at the little speech. “He doesn’t do favors, not without something in return,” he says, his voice light. “And calling him ‘Not-Thomas’ is the funniest fucking thing I’ve heard all week.”

“He wouldn’t tell me his name,” she complains. “And it’s totally awkward.”

“I fucking love that.” He swings his legs out of bed, stretching weirdly, before scrunching up his face. “You didn’t see him eat food, did you? Because I’m starving.”

“Not at all,” she says, eyeing him, and none of those fond feelings are swelling up in her, not like they did the night before, even with him in the exact same amount of undress.

Not that she’s feeling un-fond, but...different levels, she guesses. Closer to hanging out with Gabriel than...whatever last night was.

Faintly, she hears her phone go off in the tiny purse she brought, on the other end of the room, and she groans. “I’m gonna be in so just so much trouble.” Still, she crawls out of the bed, somehow incredibly aware that her dress is hilariously short, and very rumpled from sleeping in it.

Ignoring the even more raised eyebrows from him, she looks at her phone, and sure enough she’s missed two calls from Lundy, and one from Gabriel, and a whole slew of texts.

GABRIEL (2:01 AM): I hope that you still being out means it’s going well and not that you’re dead.

LUNDY HANDLER (8:05 AM): When you wake up, give me a call.

LUNDY HANDLER (9:06 AM): Being angry with me is not an excuse to blow this off.

GABRIEL (9:45 AM): Lundy called me, fyi. Hope you’re safe.

JACQUELINE (9:47 AM): Can you stop Gabe from freaking out?

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