Succubus Shadows. Richelle Mead

could have ended up there by coincidence and thought he looked like a good catch. God only knows why.”

      I ignored the barb. “Oh, come on, Roman. You’re not that stupid. Do you honestly think that in a city like Seattle, out of all the men here, it’s a coincidence that she shows up and starts hitting on my ex? You know as well as I do that there aren’t many coincidences in our world.”

      “True,” he admitted, setting the remnants of his dinner on the coffee table. The cats went for it.

      “Will you stop doing that?” I demanded. “They’re not supposed to be eating that kind of stuff.”

      “Don’t take your bitchy attitude out on me.” But he stood up and took the plate to the kitchen. When he returned, he crossed his arms over his chest and stood in front of me. “Look, you’re right to a certain extent about coincidences. It is weird that she would hit on Seth. But think about this too: don’t you think there are a few things around here a little more important than your ex-boyfriend? Jerome’s theory makes the most sense, you know. Hell let him keep his job, but that doesn’t mean they’re letting the whole incident go. They’re the ultimate grudge-holders. They’d want to assess the situation. That’s why she’s here.”

      “Except that she’s not assessing anything! Unless you consider my friends’ Pictionary skills.”

      “You should have seen them play Jenga.”

      “This isn’t a joke. I need to figure out what her game is. You have to take me with you when you spy on her again.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s a terrible idea.”

      “I can go invisible.”

      “She’ll still sense you.”

      “You can hide my signature. You told me before that you could. Was that a lie?”

      Roman grimaced. Just before things had literally blown up between us, he’d asked me to run away with him, promising he could conceal me from the greater immortals.

      “I can,” he admitted. “But I just think you’re asking for trouble.”

      “What am I risking?”

      “A lot. Whether it’s Seth or Jerome, there’s obviously something going on. Get tangled up in that, and you could be risking your life. I won’t let that happen to you.”

      “Since when do you care what happens to me?” I asked incredulously.

      “Since you became my ticket to rent-free living.”

      And with that, he turned invisible, hiding his signature as well.

      “Coward!” I cried. My only answer was the front door opening and then shutting. He was lost to me, and I realized I’d again missed my chance to bring up my weird encounters from these last couple days.

      I tossed and turned again that night, but it had nothing to do with my fear of walking off the balcony or into Puget Sound. I was filled with rage, both at Simone for making the moves on Seth and at Roman for abandoning me. When I woke up in the morning, I took comfort in knowing I didn’t need Roman to confront Simone. I could do that on my own.

      Of course, there were a few complications there, the first being I didn’t know where Simone was. Her hotel was probably the logical place to start, though most succubi—even a bland one like her—wouldn’t spend a lot of time hanging out there. Well, unless she had company—and I didn’t really want to walk into anything like that. And anyway, I had one tiny commitment to attend to before I could go bitch-hunting.

      Maddie.

      I’d regretted my decision to go shopping with her the moment the words had left my mouth. Yet, somehow, I’d totally blocked out those feelings yesterday when I’d been sitting with Seth. A brief thought about the wedding had flitted through my mind…and then it had been gone. I’d spent the rest of the time laughing and talking with him as though there was no Maddie in the world. But as I headed over to the bookstore, where she and I had agreed to meet, I had to accept reality once more. Seth was no longer mine.

      He also wasn’t Simone’s. But I’d deal with that later.

      Maddie was waiting for me downstairs, but I used the excuse of needing coffee before we left, in order to dash up to the café. I wanted to see if Simone was lurking. No matter her shape, I’d know if she was there. Yet, as I casually waited in line for my white chocolate mocha, I sensed nothing immortal. Seth was there, engrossed in his work, and never even saw me. Apparently, his muse was still going strong.

      I let him be and joined Maddie downstairs again. She had a list of eight store names and addresses. Most were dress shops, and I was skeptical that we could make them all before we were due into work. She was more optimistic, but then, that was typical of her.

      “No point in worrying right now,” she said. “We’ll just do them one at a time and see where that gets us. Besides, the last few are bakeries, and we wouldn’t want to eat a bunch of cake before trying on dresses.”

      “Speak for yourself,” I said, sliding into her passenger seat. “I’m not trying anything on.”

      She gave me a wry smile. “Aren’t you? You’re my bridesmaid, remember? We talked about it at the party.”

      “No,” I said swiftly. “I said and did all sorts of crazy stuff that night, but I never agreed to it. That I do remember.”

      Maddie’s expression was still light, but I thought I heard a little hurt in her voice when she spoke next. “What’s the big deal? Why don’t you want to be one? You know I’d never dress you in anything horrible.”

      Why? I pondered the answer as she pulled into traffic. Because I’m in love with your future husband. I could hardly tell her that, of course. As it was, I could see my continuing silence was making her feel worse. She was reading it as a slight to our friendship.

      “I just…I just don’t like all the, uh, fanfare that goes with weddings. There’s so much planning and stressing about little details. I’d rather just sit back in the audience and watch you go down the aisle.” Well, actually, that was one of the last things I wanted to do.

      “Really?” Maddie frowned, but thankfully, it was more out of surprise than disappointment. “You’re always so good at planning and little details. I thought you were into that.”

      That was a fair point. It was why I made such a good manager. “Yeah, kind of…but I mean, at the receptions, drunk guys always hit on the bridesmaids, you know? They think we’re desperate because we’re the ones not getting married.” Also not entirely far from the truth in my case.

      Maddie’s smile returned. “Those are some pretty lame excuses.”

      They were indeed, but she said nothing more as we drove.

      After Maddie’s initial failure with picking flattering wedding dresses, she now threw her faith completely into me to lead her to fashion success. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and I found myself slipping into style-advisor role pretty easily. In fact, if I was able to preoccupy myself with the objective parts of this process—flattering fit, color, etc.—it was easy to block out the big picture of her and Seth.

      The saleswomen working at the stores soon learned who was in charge here and backed off with their recommendations, simply fetching the dresses I indicated. I studied each one Maddie tried on, keeping my standards high. With so many stores to choose from, we could afford to be picky.

      “That one’s good,” I said at our third store. It was corseted, narrowing her waist, and had a skirt that didn’t flare. Those puffy ones always made the hips look bigger, though no one ever seemed to realize that. You had to be tall and thin to get away with that, not short and buxom like Maddie.

      She admired herself in the mirror, a look of pleasant surprise on her face. She was still drawn to ones that I didn’t think were good choices, and this was the first of my picks