Zoey Rogue

chapter Five: Zoey Endangered



“Zoey, c’mon and drink with me. I just opened some vodka,” Vikki said.

Zoey looked up from where she sat on Vikki’s bed, painting her toenails. She spent the past two hours with Vikki, unwilling to interrupt the pleasant evening by sharing her awful news.

Her phone dinged, indicating a text message. Vikki grabbed if off the dresser and read it out loud.

“The Professor says, no meltdowns,” she said and pinned Zoey with a look. “I knew something was up. You looked like a drowned rat when you showed up, and you’ve been weird all night. Spill, Z.”

Zoey rolled her eyes. “It’s nothing.”

“We’re like sisters. I know when something is wrong.”

Zoey ignored her for another minute to finish up her toenails. Vikki was right; they shared everything for the past ten years.

“No meltdowns. No alcohol. No boyfriend,” she muttered.

“What does that mean?” Vikki asked. She had gotten ready while Zoey sat doing her nails, lost in her mind. The whole room smelled of Vikki’s perfume. “Why aren’t you ready? It’s like, nine!”

Zoey sighed. “Eric proposed,” she said.

“You shittin’ me?”

“No.”

“What did you say?”

Ignoring her, Zoey climbed off the bed and stripped. She pulled out her clubbing clothes from her backpack. She wriggled into the tight dress then turned her back for Vikki to zip her up.

“What did you tell him?” Vikki demanded, thrusting a glass of vodka into her hand.

Zoey recalled the Professor’s warning about remaining sober. She didn’t think she’d survive the night with her thoughts and tossed back the whole glass of the chilled liquid.

“I ran out the door,” she replied.

“Literally or figuratively?”

“Both, I think.”

“Holy shit.” Vikki’s voice was quiet. “I know you like him, but I mean, you can’t marry him.”

“Why not?” Zoey snapped.

“Because you go around sleeping with and beheading Cambions. It’s not a good way to start a marriage.”

“I don’t sleep with them. I kill them.”

“You’re always tense and angry,” Vikki pointed out. “Eric isn’t enough. What happens the one night you decide to take up a Cambion on his offer, because you can’t control yourself otherwise?”

“I don’t know, Vikki!”

“The minute you tell your husband-to-be you’re possessed by sex energy or you can’t control the sex magic, it’s over.”

Zoey listened. Of all the nights to try to be sober, it had to be this one, when her best friend was suspected of being a traitor and her boyfriend knew she didn’t want to marry him.

Zoey, you need to be able to trust and talk to the person you want to be with, or it isn’t going to work. I think you need to figure out what you want.

Eric was right. Vikki was right. The Professor was right. Why was everyone right except for her? Why couldn’t things stay the way they were?

“C’mon. Makeup and shoes,” Vikki prodded. “This place gets crowded fast on a Saturday night. I don’t want to miss any of them.”

Zoey forced herself to move. She couldn’t help thinking of the expression on Eric’s face in the car. He was crushed. She’d turned his world inside out in all of two minutes. Her gaze went to the bottle of vodka, but she didn’t reach for it. Instead, she glanced at Vikki, who was putting the finishing touches on her own makeup. At almost six feet tall, Vikki was gorgeous, with porcelain skin, naturally brilliant red hair and blue eyes. She got whatever man – or Cambion – she wanted.

Zoey couldn’t imagine killing Cambions with anyone else.

Please, not Vikki. She can’t be a traitor.

A short time later, they arrived at their destination. They made their way through the club, and Zoey recalled why she was normally drunk by the time she got there. It was hot, crowded, loud and smelly. Vikki was cheerful as usual, and Zoey suspected her own sour mood was to blame this night, not the club or lack of alcohol. They went to a tiny table near the bar that hadn’t been claimed yet and stood. Zoey checked her phone again.

Eric hadn’t called or texted.

“You look like a lovesick girlfriend waiting for her ex to call,” Vikki observed. “Put that away. It’s time to work.”

“I know.” Zoey put the phone in her wristlet and turned her attention to their surroundings. Her Hunter senses would pick up on the Cambions long before she saw them. With her emotions between sorrow and fury, she was ready. “How many did you say?”

“Somewhere between ten and fifteen.”

“Good odds.”

Vikki shrugged. “You look up to taking on two or three.”

You have no idea, Zoey thought darkly.

“Compliments of the gentleman there,” a waitress said, bringing them their first drinks of the night.

Vikki winked at Zoey and turned, lifting the cosmopolitan in a thank you to whoever bought it. Zoey kept her eyes on the people. Vikki went through five drinks while Zoey stayed on one. Normally, they competed to see which was able to drink the most before snagging their target. Vikki didn’t press her, and Zoey’s gaze went to her closest friend as often as to those entering the club.

The Professor wasn’t capable of being wrong, not when he could read minds. As foolish as she knew it to be, she prayed he was this time.

She and Vikki faced the door, instincts picking up on the group that just walked in. Every girl within five feet of them knew it, too, and the Cambions were soon covered in clinging women.

“Only two,” Vikki said with a frown. “Ready?”

Likewise disappointed, Zoey nodded. She’d prefer a challenge, especially when she was sober. Then again, she was there with a different challenge: spying on her best friend. Vikki moved away from the table. Zoey sensed the magic her best friend gave off and projected the sex energy in her own body. They wove through the dance floor and sidled up to the two Cambions, whose interest in the girls around them shifted once they were ensnared by the magic.

Zoey took the bigger of the two, as usual. Vikki had a thing for slender men, while Zoey just wanted a real challenge. The Cambion lost no time in wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his body. His magic mixed with hers, enhancing her senses even more. Unlike humans, she wouldn’t succumb to him, but she was able to combine his magic with hers to use it against him.

“Drinks?” his friend asked.

“I’d love one,” Vikki said breathlessly. She winked at Zoey.

They were good at playing the part, until it was time to kill someone. The four of them went to the bar. Zoey smiled in encouragement as the Cambion pressed her between him and the bar. Accustomed to his magic doing all the work, he said nothing and did nothing but shove his tongue in her mouth.

Zoey wished again she was drunk. She bore through it, wondering how he’d been a Cambion for so long without learning how to kiss a girl. Were they all like this, and she usually too drunk to notice? He was better with his hands, feeling her up with some sense. At least he knew where to touch. His magic fed hers despite her revulsion, and she found herself enjoying it too much. She and Eric had sex, but their connection was physical. She often wondered what it was like to have sex with a partner who had magic.

“Wanna go somewhere?” she asked, breaking away from him.

“Yeah.” His voice was low. He grabbed her hand and all but yanked her away.

She twisted and rolled her eyes at Vikki then made the sign for call me. Vikki grinned.

In the unromantic way of a half-Incubus, he took her into the alley beside the club. Zoey knew it well; it was the normal place where the meatheads took her. The alley ran from the side street on which the club was located to the main, four lane road through town. She glanced towards the end of the alley. She’d cased the place enough that she knew the escape routes by heart. If she got in trouble, she could run and catch a cab.

Not that one little Cambion was an issue.

He whirled her and pressed her into the wall with the same roughness that almost made her wish she was able to fall under his thrall. As it was, making out with him was providing her some release, until he started to cross the line where she drew as the limit to how far she’d go. She wasn’t about to cheat on Eric with a psycho like this. The Cambion hiked up her dress to her hips. Kissing him, Zoey reached down to grip a knife then took his cheeks in her hands and pushed him back.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Are you?” he returned with the arrogant smile that assured her he had no clue.

She slid the paper thin, razor sharp knife across his throat then shoved him. He stumbled back, clutching at his neck. Blood spurted from the wound, and the light faded from his eyes as he dropped. Zoey watched. When certain he was dead, she straightened and replaced her knife.

“One less Cambion on the streets,” she murmured, satisfied. She walked down the alley and returned to the club.

Vikki was alone at the bar. Zoey crossed to her.

“What took so long?” Vikki teased. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Can’t remember the last time I did this semi-sober. Takes some getting used to,” Zoey replied.

“Here, take mine. I ordered another,” Vikki said, sliding her drink over.

Zoey grabbed it and sipped. It tasted bitter. She had no idea what it was, but Vikki’s taste in men and drinks was different.

“So what happens if you can’t fix things with Eric?” Vikki asked.

“Oh, god, I wanted to forget that,” Zoey said with a sigh. “I’m sure I can make things right. I just need to tell him I want to wait. Things will go back to the way they were and we’ll deal with it later.”

“You and denial are best friends. You should just accept that life isn’t the way you want it and never will be.”

Zoey glanced at Vikki. There was bitterness in her voice.

“What’s up with you?” she asked. “You’ve been angry lately, too. Not getting laid enough?”

“I didn’t even think of that. What if Eric needs time or something and you’re on the couch. You’ll never make it,” Vikki said. “Zoey, I rotate men every night, and I can hardly do this.”

“I didn’t think of that either,” Zoey muttered. Every time she went out killing, she came back and had sex with Eric as many times as he’d go, usually only two. But two was better than none. How did she handle the sex energy in her blood, if he put her on the couch?

“I wonder what it’s like to be with an Incubus,” Vikki said pensively. “I mean, like, permanently. That kind of passion every night. We kinda have band-aids to help us deal with it, you know? Like the men who rotate through my dorm. It’s kinda sickening, really. I don’t get why the Sucubatti didn’t plan that out better.”

“Yeah, it is kinda shitty for us,” Zoey said with a shrug. “I have to admit, if something happens with Eric, I have no idea what I’d do.”

“I wonder if any of the Incubus Benefactors sleep with their Hunters.”

“It’s forbidden.”

“Okay, Miss Innocent.” Vikki rolled her eyes. “Don’t you wonder why? The Incubatti sleep with Hunters.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They take on mistresses. Some of them have wives. Where do you think Incubuses come from?”

“I dunno. I had no idea they have wives. Are they Succubae who betray the Sucubatti to live with them?” Zoey took another sip and grimaced. The drink in her hand tasted familiar, but it wasn’t any alcoholic beverage she could remember having before. “What is this shit? It doesn’t taste right.”

“No idea. Oh, it’s an amaretto sour. I think.” Vikki tasted hers and frowned. “Yeah, these don’t taste quite right.”

“Tastes more sour than usual.” She set it down, but her ears were already buzzing. Whatever was in the drink, it was taking effect.

“Whatever. Anyway, one of the other girls said that Incubuses have preordained wives,” Vikki continued. “I guess they’re Halflings that can handle the sex energy long term. To claim them, the Incubus has to sleep with them three times in some kind of mating rite, and then they own the woman. They call it three strikes.”

Vikki’s words floated over her. Zoey tried to pay attention, but now her vision was blurring. She shook her head and downed a glass of ice water to see if the shock of cold cleared her mind.

“No way. That’s shitty. V, I think there’s something wrong with these drinks.”

“What if it’s not?” Vikki returned, her voice slurred. “What if it’s easier than rotating the football team through your dorm room every week?” She was facing Zoey, but didn’t seem to see her through her glazed eyes.

“The whole team? That’s like…” Zoey couldn’t add when drunk. “More than one a night.”

“Yeah. Try three to four.”

“Are you hurting that badly?” she asked, astonished, distracted by her concern for her friend. The strange sensations caused by the drink were getting worse.

Vikki didn’t seem to hear her. “Do you think this is why all the girls before us got transferred conveniently on their twenty second birthdays? Not because they were slow, but because they couldn’t control themselves anymore?”

“Stop drinking that shit, V.” Zoey reached out to take the drink Vikki still sipped. Darkness was encroaching on her vision from the edges of her mind. “I think we need to call … a ride …” She felt herself hit the floor a moment before her world went dark.