Page 9 of The Succubi's Choice

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After the chill of the underground tunnels, the car is delightfully stuffy, and Miri thumps her head against the headrest. “What the fuck,” she blurts out, her skin slowly defrosting.

Next to her, Katya rubs between her eyes. “I can’t believe they sent us in to deal with banshees and didn’t tell us to bring the proper equipment,” she grumbles. “I’m going to have some strong words.”

Miri pulls away from the house, with its dying grass and rundown neighborhood. “That has to be some sort of human health violation, right? Like, won’t their insurance get angry?”

“You would think.” Katya falls silent, watching outside as Miri drives on the now dark freeways. “Don’t you think it’s odd?”

And yes, Miri thinks that the entire day was fucking odd, but she’s going to have to be more specific. “Well I haven’t ever heard of that sort of relationship, but if the noise cancelling headphones work, I’m not going to judge,” she says, raising her eyebrows at the road. Katya is her worst when she’s cryptic, and she’s only cryptic when she thinks something suspicious is going on.

“Hmmm,” Katya says, being entirely unhelpful.

* * *

It takesher a moment to find street parking at her apartment, with street cleaning day in the morning, but the moment she does she thumps her head against the headrest again, her heart still pounding in sync with her head.

It’s dark out, the type of hot summer evening that sets her veins afire and makes her want to go out, makes her want to find a bar and find another handsome man and fuck him. Find someone, sleep naked next to him, pressed up against him with skin against skin the entire night.

You know, all her instincts. All the things that, unregulated, all succubi would do every night.

Even when she’s already hunted that day. Just gorge herself with contact and touch and the emotions and hormones that go along with it.

But instead, she swings herself out of the car, the ancient door creaking, and the hot air is even hotter outside, no breeze moving through the air.

And instead of going out, or letting her hair down and finding somewhere with drunk men and beautiful women, she walks through the neighborhood, climbs three levels of stairs, and turns her key in the crunchy lock.

Once inside, Gabriel starts upward, taking his arm from where it casually rests on the shoulder of his friend, Jacqueline.

Jacqueline doesn’t look up from her book.

Jacqueline is Gabriel’s not-quite girlfriend, and Miri thinks it’s adorable when she thinks about it directly. She’s getting her PhD in the department across the hallway from Gabriel’s, and she studies more than any one person should ever study. And most of the studying is at Gabriel and Miri’s apartment, cause apparently she has four younger siblings and three cousins at her house and it’s too loud.

Gabriel has the biggest crush on her and Miri is about eighty percent certain it’s mutual.

“Oh, hi, Miri,” Gabriel says, as if he can pretend that he wasn’t just trying to cuddle someone.

“Hey.” The restless feeling under her skin doesn’t go away. “Is there a...” she checks her clipboard, “a Lyla Jordans in any of your classes?”

“No?” He replies, screwing up his face. “Why, she come to your work?”

“She was wearing the sweatshirt, thought you might know her.” Miri drops her bag, collapsing onto the beanbag chair they still keep in their apartment for some reason.

“Our school has tens of thousands of students,” Jacqueline murmurs, not looking up yet. “Not everyone wearing a sweatshirt would be in his classes.” Then—“I thought you don’t work on Tuesdays?” She finally looks up, blinking owlishly at Miri.

“Boss called me in for an inspection,” Miri says, neutral, because Jacqueline doesn’t know about her world and Miri doesn’t want to be the one that bursts that bubble. So Jacqueline just thinks Miri works for a city funded apartment inspection company, and Jacqueline has made it abundantly clear she thinks it’s the most boring job ever.

And that comes from someone getting a PhD in experimental math.

Gabriel raises an eyebrow at her, a look that’s verging on concerned. “Anything...”

Miri’s already shaking her head. “Nothing interesting. Just a...glorified noise complaint.” She’s proud of that one, not gonna lie. “You guys pulling an all-nighter?”

“As if,” Jacqueline says quickly.

Miri locks eyes with Gabriel, who grimaces out an apology.

“I’m just trying to get ahead on my grading,” he says, holding up his tablet, which has digital copies of math workbooks.