Page 8 of Wicked Succubus
I try to open a couple of doors, but they’re locked. The only ones that open are the pantry and the closets, basically all the boring ones. I make my way upstairs and hear a small creak on the flooring. I turn around to look behind me and end up face-to-face with the agent. His footsteps were so quiet, I didn’t hear him coming.
The urge to get closer to him is strong. I have to bite my cheek to keep me grounded. He comes closer to me. Does he feel the same pull? I back into the door as he moves closer. From the corner of my eye, I watch his hand jerk toward me. One second, I’m standing, and the next, I’m falling back on my ass and landing in a different room. He opened the door while I was leaning against it, the jerk.
“This is where you’ll be staying until we find the killer. No house parties, and no bringing boyfriends or girlfriends home. This isn’t a hotel. This is simply a place to sleep where I can watch you.”
Chapter 5
Cooper
Zelyah is hiding something important. She’s beginning to look restless. She keeps tugging her ear as her knee bounces up and down. I think she’s lying about being a shifter. There is no way she could have resisted my command without great power. No, she’s something else, and I can’t wait to uncover her secret. I just have to be patient, and the truth will come out sooner or later.
We haven’t seen each other much this whole week. I’ve been in top-secret meetings where I can’t take her, but I’ve kept my eye on her through the cameras around the house. Plus, I have Easton Barlowe, another agent, right outside my house watching to make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.
She swims in my pool, makes herself food in my kitchen, and walks around my garden. I want to look away, but I can’t. There’s something about her that makes me want to fuck her, praise her, and kill her all at the same time. She draws me in. This is the complete opposite of my nature. I’m used to being the one to draw humans and other species in, but not her. She doesn’t seem fazed by me, and knowing that I may not have any effect on her only pisses me off more.
It’s dinner time, and we eat in silence at the table. I grabbed Chinese on the way back home from the office. We’re right across from each other, and every so often, her gaze wanders over to me. It’s hard to look away from her, but I do it anyway, trying to focus on my food. I angrily stab at my noodles with the chopsticks. She finally looks up again, not hiding her stare this time.
“Am I your prisoner?” On the surface, she looks calm, almost bored by the question. But she can’t fully mask the tightness in her jaw, and the subtle beads of sweat on her brow give her away.
“No.”
One-word answers usually drive people to fill the uncomfortable silence, and I’m hoping my clipped responses will push her to spill hidden details I could use to pin her with these murders. She glares, waiting for me to say more. Too bad I have no intention of giving her what she wants.
“Well, I’ve been cooped up in your house for a week with a babysitter out front,” she growls, obviously hating I’m keeping tabs on her. “Radnor proved that I’m innocent.”
“I still don’t trust you.” I take pleasure in the way she averts her eyes from the undisguised menace in my voice. Good, let her know who holds all the power here.
“You know I didn’t kill those women.” She goes back to eating, and I watch as she takes a piece of food, brings it to her mouth, and closes her eyes, savoring the different spices. I can’t take my eyes away from her luscious lips.
I shrug. “But you killed that boy.”
I watch her flinch before she recovers. So, the guy did mean something to her. Something akin to annoyance brews in my stomach. Why did she ever care about a human?
“Why do you care about the boy? I thought you guys only cared if they’re supernatural.” There’s an underlying tone of annoyance in her voice, almost leading me to believe she regrets what she’s done.
“We do,” I say simply. Unless they’re being used for sacrificial purposes, we don’t get involved.
“So . . .” she says slowly. “Can I go out?”
I drop my chopsticks and look up from my plate, staring at those eyes that suck me right in. They make me want to worship the ground she walks on. Fuck! I need to get her out of my system.
“I need to be out with nature, to feel the earth under my feet and the cool breeze teasing my hair,” she says, still acting as if she’s a shifter.
I want to tell her she’s lying, but I’ll let her believe that she’s fooling me just a little while longer. I don’t want her going out because it’s Friday, and the last two murders happened on the weekend as well. There could be another killing, and like I told her, I want to make sure she isn’t the person I’m looking for.
“If you want to truly clear your name, you’ll stay here for the next two days.”
Her eyes narrow into angry slits. “I already told you, and Radnor agreed, that I didn’t kill those women.” She crosses her arms, bringing my attention down to her chest. I swallow hard, making sure I flick my gaze back up to her face and keep it trained there. The set of her mouth is stubborn when she speaks again. “I’m supposed to help you find the killer.”
“You’re staying here, end of discussion,” I say. When my phone rings, I push back from the table and stand. My bad mood sours even more when I see the name on the screen. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to take this.” I pause and add, “if another murder happens, I’ll take you.” If she’s not really the killer, she might prove useful in helping us find the real one.
I walk out of the room, leaving Zelyah behind with a deep frown. I open the door to my study, closing it behind me. I need to make sure she doesn’t eavesdrop on this conversation. Just before it goes to voicemail, I answer the phone and brace myself for the conversation I’m about to have.
“Hello, Father,” I say, careful to keep my tone light despite the way his phone call sets my teeth on edge.
“Are you still playing detective, or are you looking for a nice fae to marry?” The word marriage has been looming over my head since I was born. Every phone call we have, he likes to remind me of our deal. I have to find someone to marry. Once I end up tying the knot, I’ll take the throne to the Spring Court. Of course, my father won’t let it go until he actually dies, but he wants me to learn how to run court the same way his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather before him did. I have no interest in going back to Faerie, at least not right now. I’ve got too much going for me on earth.
“I’ve got to find a killer—”