Gentlemen Prefer Succubi

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Remy grinned and waved it in the air. “Know how to shoot one of these babies?”

“No. And could you please not wave it around?”

She laughed and lowered it. “Oh, you big baby. This gun can’t hurt you.”

No? “Are succubi bulletproof?”

“No, silly.” Remy flashed me a white smile. “While you can’t die from a gunshot, you can look pretty hideous for a few days. Trust me on that.” She held the gun by the barrel, extending the grip toward me. “This is a special kind of gun.”

I took it from her with distaste. It was tiny, with a teeny barrel and a pearl pink grip. Count on Remy to have a fashionable gun. “That’s great,” I said, “but I don’t think this is going to hold off a vampire. It looks like it needs to grow up first.”

She rolled her eyes. “This is a Derringer, honey. It’s small to fit under your clothes.” Remy took the gun from me and opened it, revealing the bullets inside. “It holds two shots, and you’ll want to be up close to shoot, because they don’t aim worth a damn.”

“And why do I need a gun? Especially one that I won’t be able to aim? And how did you get that through airport security?”

“I put one of the baggage check guards to sleep when you weren’t looking.” She snapped the gun shut again and pulled a holster from her purse. “We don’t have a lot of time, so the pink gun is for the vamps. Remember, pink for vamps.” She lifted up my shirt and put the gun holster around me, adjusting the Velcro straps so they slid down under my cargo shorts to just above my underwear. Well, that explained how nobody would see it.

“So what’s the gun do if it’s for vampires?”

“The bullets have been blessed by an angel. One good shot to the head should kill him. If you want to play nasty, just shoot him in the groin. It’ll incapacitate him for an hour, which should give you plenty of time to get away if you need to. But if it’s not a fatal shot, you’ll also piss him off. So be careful. Don’t use it unless you have to.”

“Okay, I got it.” I shoved the tiny pink gun into the holster. “Thanks for the protection.”

I looked up and found myself eye to eye with a bluehandled gun.

“This one is for the Serim, in case you run into any,” she said.

I took the gun with skepticism. “I don’t see why I’d need to be protected from the Serim, Remy.” If anything, I needed to be protected from the angels.

She put the gun in the empty holster at the small of my back. “They’re not on your side any more than Zane is, kiddo. Remember that both sides want that halo-and if you stand in their way, they’ll just mow you down like they do everyone else. Now, remember,” she said as she tightened the straps and I felt the gun barrel slide against my thong. “The one against your ass is for the angels, and the one against your cooch is for the pricks. Got it?”

“Got it,” I said, tugging my shirt down. It looked like I had a little junk in the trunk, but other than that, you couldn’t see the firearms. “I still don’t see why I need these. You said that our kind are worth more alive than dead to them.” That frightened whine was back in my voice.

Remy put her hands on my shoulders and gave me a comforting squeeze. “That may be, but nothing is more important than that halo for both sides. Watch yourself-that’s all I’m saying.”

“Lucky me.” I reached for my purse. “My allies and my enemies both want to kill me. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m your only real ally, I’m afraid,” she said softly. “Just remember that.”

A knock sounded at the door. Zane.

I shoved Remy into the bathroom. “Go back to your room when we leave, okay?”

She nodded at me, crossing her fingers in the “good luck” sign before closing the bathroom door.

I opened my door a crack. “Yes?”

Zane turned at the sound of my voice, extending a bouquet of white and orange lilies surrounded by baby’s breath. Surprise made my throat catch, and the smile that curved his mouth shot a pulse of desire straight to my groin.

Damn the Itch. Damn damn damn.

“Hi,” I said, trying not to sound too breathy and failing miserably. I stepped outside my room and took the flowers, surprised by the gesture. “Why flowers?”

“Thank you, Zane,” he mimicked, grinning at me. When I blushed, he took my hand and brushed his fingertips across my knuckles before settling a kiss there. “I figured you’d be mad at me, so I brought these to make amends.”

It worked; I’d forgotten completely that I was pissed at him for the seduction stunt. But it had nothing to do with flowers. One smile from him, and I’d forgotten everything but the fact that he was gorgeous. That floppy lock of hair was falling over his forehead again, touching his eyebrow.

“I’m ready when you are,” I blurted. A blush touched my cheeks when I realized the double entendre.

He chuckled, a low, sensual sound that did terrible, wondrous things to my insides. “Glad to see it.” He still held my hand in his, his thumb caressing my skin. The feeling was carrying straight to unmentionable places on my body, and I was losing my sanity, fast. No doubt my eyes were blazing the hottest blue this side of the Caribbean.

I frowned as I realized something, staring into his dark, laughing eyes. “The red is gone.”

“Hmm?” Zane gave a gentle tug on my hand, pulling me into his arms. I went willingly. Actually, I shouldn’t say “willingly.” I should say “plastered my body against his and wrapped my arms around his neck.” All I could smell was the dizzy scent of blood and man and leather that made up Zane.

Zane’s hand came to rest on the curve of my lower back, reminding me that I had two guns strapped against my flesh and he wasn’t supposed to find out. I pulled away, an embarrassed flush heating my cheeks. “Your eyes,” I repeated. “They’re not red anymore.”

“No, they’re not. Unlike you, I have no problem with using others to satisfy a need, whether I like and respect them or not. Sometimes when the urge is upon you, anyone will do.” He shot me an oblique look, daring me to say something.

Offended, I stiffened and crossed my arms over my chest. So he’d gone and slaked his needs and left me hanging? Typical man. Typical vampire.

I opened my door and tossed the flowers inside. When I remained silent, he sighed.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

“Why do I need this?” I complained as Zane slid the burqa over my head and over my shoulders. The souvenir shop was hot enough without a heavy cloth covering me from head to toe.

“It’s for your own safety.” He smoothed the fabric down my body. “Nobody will look twice at you dressed in one of these; the way you were dressed was getting too much attention if we want secrecy.”

The burqa was designed to cover a woman from the prying eyes of men. This one was baby blue-a fashion choice, I assumed, since most of the others in the shop were unrelenting black. A thin mesh opening over the eyes allowed me to see out into the world. It was heavy and stifling, but I saw his point.

I sighed. “You should see the other stuff Remy packed.”

He handed me a disposable camera. “Remy is an idiot when it comes to suitable clothing. That woman doesn’t have a practical bone in her body.”

As Zane paid for the clothing, I went to the shop’s door to check out the Cairo nightlife. The streets were lit up despite the early hour of the evening, and still crawling with people of all shapes and sizes. Directly across the street was an antiques emporium.

Several men waited outside the shop, young, rough sorts with dirty clothing, and ugly smiles. They sat casually in front of the store, talking among themselves. One began to clean under his nails with a long knife.

As I watched, one gestured at the door of the souvenir shop and said something to one of his companions. The bearded man shrugged, then made a chopping notion across his throat. The other men laughed.

My throat suddenly dry, I swallowed hard, then said, “Um, Zane?”

He appeared at my side. “Yes?”

“Those men out there-”

“So you see them now.”

I faced him. “What do you mean, ‘now’? Have they been there the whole time?”

He steered me away from the door, whispering against my fabric-covered ear, “Slavers. They’ve been following us since the hotel, doubtlessly tipped off by someone who works there. You’d fetch a fortune with that red hair.”

Slavery in this day and age? I couldn’t imagine being sold into a brothel-it was too TV-movie-of-the-week.

“What do we do now?”

Zane rubbed my shoulder comfortingly. “We go out the back way.”

I slid my hand into his and allowed him to lead me past the counter. “Back door?” Zane calmly asked the sales clerk.

The shopkeeper pointed one finger toward the far end of the store, saying nothing.

Zane’s smile flashed across his face. “My thanks, friend.” He laid a handful of bills onto the counter. “You didn’t see any American women in here.”

“Egyptian women only,” the shopkeeper agreed, his eyes bright at the sight of the money.

Zane led me into a dirty storage room, cracked open the back door, and glanced out. “We’re clear. Just an alleyway filled with garbage.”

He led me through the filth-strewn alley, the burqa flapping around my legs. “How did you get that wad of money you gave him?”

“Same way I got rid of the red eyes. You want details?”

Ugh. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

He chuckled. “Someday you’ll get over that charming squeamishness of yours, Princess-and that’ll be a shame.”

I snorted in disbelief. “If that means you expect me to dive into your arms at some point, forget about it.” But just speaking the words aloud caused my body to throb.

Zane led me through a maze of dark alleys and back streets. I had no idea where we were and clutched his hand. If I got separated from him I’d have no idea how to get back to the hotel, and the thought of being alone and lost in a city where I could be nabbed by slavers was first and foremost in my mind.

The vampire seemed to know where he was going. We hailed a cab and took a wild ride through the streets to the outskirts of the city. There, he led me through the maze of streets until we came face to face with a pair of camels standing in a dark courtyard. One looked over at me, chewing hay with a stupid look on its face. “Here we are,” Zane announced.

I hesitated. “Don’t tell me-our transportation?” A nondescript man stood between the camels, holding their bridles with an expectant look.

Zane grinned in the darkness, his white teeth flashing. “How’d you guess?”

“A lucky hunch,” I said, my voice muffled through the burqa.

Zane handed the man a wad of bills, took the reins of the first camel, and got it to kneel. “Ladies first.”

I sighed and stepped forward. “Don’t these things spit?”

Zane grabbed me under the arms and helped me into the saddle. “They do. Just don’t provoke it and you’ll be fine.”

His hands on me caused my banked desire to burn full-blown once more. I lost track of my thoughts and clung to the blanket-covered saddle with my knees as the camel stood again. “No provoking. Gotcha.”

As Zane mounted his camel with expertise, I focused hard on things other than the Itch. Kittens. Puppies. Bottled Water. Hamburgers. Ice cream. Licking ice cream off Zane’s hard, flat stomach-

My mental imagery needed a little work if I was going to stay calm and cool. Though he was a jerk sometimes, he had a boyish charm. Except for the room-entering incident, I suspected Zane was being courteous in his own way. He’d stopped when I’d asked him to stop, he was concerned with my welfare, and he’d been helpful. Either he was a genuinely good guy with a bad rap, or he had something up his sleeve.

Zane turned to look at me. “Everything okay?”

“I’m fine.” If confused.

He tapped the rump of his camel with a crop. The camel lurched forward and began to head out into the surrounding desert.

I thumped my legs against my camel’s sides, and it trotted after Zane’s mount.

Despite all his antics and issues, Zane had been someone I could count on since we got to Egypt.

“Zane?”

He turned to look back at me. “Yes?”

“Thanks. For everything.”

The grin that crossed his face was devilish. “You can thank me later-preferably between the sheets.”

I resisted the urge to throw my riding crop at his head.

Barely.