“Now Layla.” I clasped my hands in front of me, lacing my fingers and resting them on the counter. “As pleasant as this is, I do have to admit that we need something from you.”
She sighed, twirling a lock of her hair around one finger. “That’s all you Lorica boys ever want. And what does poor Layla ever get?”
I cocked one shoulder. “Lots of compliments, and cocktails? Not a bad deal, I should say.”
Layla lowered her gaze. “Naughty. But correct.” She spread her fingers across the counter, then lifted her nose, her demeanor somber, serious. I was more aware than ever of the silence around us. “Tell me what you need.”
“Gateway,” I said, forcing myself not to react to her sudden chill. “We need to find Hecate.”
Her eyes widened, and she burst into a huff. “Hah! Hecate? In these conditions? You’re better off talking to a fortune teller.” She slipped one hand into her clutch, sifting through its contents. “I’ve got my psychic’s number right here. The woman’s certifiably insane and gets nothing right, I just like listening.”
I cleared my throat and tightened the clasping of my fingers. “We’d prefer if you could tell us where her portal is tethered. We really need to speak with her.”
Layla stopped shuffling through her purse, setting it back down on the counter. Her eyes squinted in suspicion. “So what you’re telling me is that you need information – so you can seek her out for more information.”
“I. Uh. Yes.”
Layla threw one hand up and waved it dismissively. “I’ll never understand you humans. Sometimes you just have to take action, you know? Back in the day, if we had a problem, we did something.” She groped for thin air, then clenched her hand into a fist, fingernails gleaming like sharpened rubies. “Reach into someone’s chest, rip their heart out. Done.” She dusted her hands off. “No drama. Efficient.”
I wondered how much of that was true and did my best not to stammer. “We can’t take action without knowing who’s at fault, though. It’s about the murder of the god Resheph, if you’ve heard of it.”
She nodded, her eyes looking distant. “I have, actually. I knew some of the gods from his pantheon, nice people. Didn’t know him personally, but it’s a damn shame.” Her eyes refocused on mine, but the warmth was still missing, all business now. “Right. So you already know that Hecate’s gateway shifts, correct? It’s only sensible. She’s trying to keep herself safe. Who knows where the murderer will pounce next?”
I nodded along. The shifting tether was a practical safeguard, well and good, but it did make tracking down our contact a bigger pain in the ass.
“So what you’re really asking for is the exact location of Hecate’s tether. Where it is at this very moment.” Layla’s eyes narrowed, and the shadow of a smile crept back to her lips. “That’s going to cost you more than a Brandy Alexander.”
“Oh, come on now, Layla,” Bastion’s voice cooed from just past my ear. Had his head been poked into the conversation the whole time?
She held up a hand. “Bastion. Shush. This is between me and the new boy.” She tilted her head, her smile now fully returned. “What do you say, Mr. Graves? All it takes is one kiss.”
Chapter 11
Bastion’s fingers dug into my shoulder, stabbing right through my jacket. His whispers were urgent. “Bro, don’t do it, bro.”
I grimaced. We needed Layla, I was sure of it. Why would we have come all this way if that wasn’t the case? I turned my head slightly, careful not to let Layla see or hear me speak. “It’s not like we have a choice, Bastion.”
Out of the corner of my eye I caught Prudence frowning in our general direction. Her face said it all. She obviously didn’t approve of what was about to happen, but it needed to be done. I sighed. All in a day’s work.
I mustered my courage, and whatever was left of my good graces, and turned to Layla with a neutral expression. “Okay,” I said. “One kiss.”
She didn’t reply, but her smile said it all.
“Is it – ” I began. “Will it hurt?”
Layla pushed a lock of hair out of
her face, the apples of her cheeks going rosier with every passing moment. “Only a little.” She raised her chin, exposing part of her throat, as if she was trying to get me to mirror her and offer my own vulnerability. “Whatever I take from you will return over time. Like blood. Your body will always make more.”
Maybe it was the dazzle of colored lights that did it, but I didn’t catch Layla closing the distance between us. The counter, the bar, the club disappeared when she pressed her lips against mine. They were warm, and only a little wet, lined with something sweet that had just come out of a glass. I steadied myself as she leaned in, her mouth hungry, and maybe it stung a little when I remembered that she wasn’t into me as much as she wanted to devour a part of my soul.
Her tongue moved against mine, and I couldn’t stop the moan that left my mouth and echoed its way into the tunnel of our locked bodies. From somewhere behind me I was vaguely aware of Bastion exhaling in something that sounded like a low whistle. Any lingering traces of liquor on Layla’s lips had vanished, and other tastes and impossible sensations worked their way across my tongue: incense, earth, the scent and flavor of rose petals.
Then her nails dug into my back.
I tried to tear myself away as something inside of Layla’s mouth forced itself into my body. Not anything physical, but a sensation of something slithering down my throat, reaching and probing inside of me, then gripping at whatever it had found within my core. Whatever it was dug its way into me, a slender hand with its dozens upon dozens of fingers. Then it squeezed.
I cried out, but Layla’s lips were locked like iron against mine, the size and shape of her body belying the horrific strength behind her arms. My eyes flew open, and maybe she didn’t look any different, but I finally saw her for the voracious demon she was, latched onto my mouth and onto my soul like a lamprey. I saw Prudence approaching, her face like thunder. Against my mouth, I felt the succubus smiling.