Free Succubus Shadows by Richelle Mead

plenty of it to go around.

Chapter 6
    I awoke to the smell of eggs and bacon. For a moment, I had the strangest sense of déjà vu. When Seth and I were first getting to know each other, I’d crashed at his place after too much to drink. When I had woken up, I’d discovered a full breakfast spread in his kitchen.
    A few moments later, reality sunk in. There was no desk or bulletin board of book notes, no teddy bear in a University of Chicago shirt. It was my own dresser that looked back at me, my own tangled pale blue sheets wrapped around my legs.
    With a sigh, I clambered out of bed and walked out to the kitchen, wondering what was going on. To my astonishment, it was Roman playing chef at my stove, both cats sitting at his feet—no doubt hoping for a bit of dropped bacon.
    “You cook?” I asked, pouring a cup of coffee.
    “I cook all the time. You just don’t notice.”
    “I notice you heating up a lot of frozen food. What’s all this?”
    He shrugged. “I’m starving. You don’t get a lot of time to eat when you’re on stalking duty.”
    I eyed the eggs, bacon, and pancakes. “Well, I think you’ll be good to go for the rest of the day. Maybe the next two days. You sure did make a lot,” I added hopefully.
    “No need to be coy,” he said, trying to hide a smile. “You can have some.”
    This was the best news I’d heard all day. Of course, I’d only been up for five minutes. Then, last night’s events came slamming into me. “Oh, shit.”
    Roman glanced up from where he was flipping a pancake. “Hmm?”
    “A funny thing happened last night….” I frowned. “Well, not so funny…”
    I explained that mystery force’s reappearance last night, as well as my unexpected swim from the other day. Roman listened quietly, the earlier levity rapidly disappearing from his face.
    When I finished, he dumped his skillet of eggs into a bowl so hard that the bowl shattered. I took an uneasy step back. “Son of a bitch,” he growled.
    “Whoa, hey,” I said. An angry nephilim was nothing I wanted around. “That’s part of a matched set.”
    He glared at me, but I knew the anger wasn’t toward me, exactly. “Three times, Georgina. This has happened three fucking times, and I wasn’t around.”
    “Why should you be?” I asked in surprise. My surprise then took an odd turn into outrage. “You aren’t my keeper.”
    “No, but some entity is invading my home.” I decided not to point out that it was my home. “I should be dealing with that, not chasing some boring succubus for Jerome.”
    “Ask, and ye shall receive,” a familiar voice suddenly said. Jerome’s aura washed over us as he materialized by the kitchen table.
    “About time,” snapped Roman, that dark look still on his face. “I’ve been waiting forever for you to show up.”
    Jerome arched an eyebrow and lit a cigarette. “Forever, huh? It hasn’t even been a week.”
    “Feels like it,” said Roman. He handed me a plate of food, and I sat quietly at the table, deciding I should wait for this status report to unfold before delivering my latest problems to Jerome. “You guys should add following Simone to your list of punishments for the eternally damned.”
    Jerome smiled and flicked his ashes into a vase of gerbera daisies on my table. I wasn’t thrilled about that, but at least it wasn’t on my floor. “I take it you’ve seen no noteworthy activities? Mei reported the same thing.”
    Roman sat down beside me with his own food, setting the plate down with more force than he needed. I winced, but it didn’t break. “She’s done nothing but shop and take victims. Oh, and hit on Mortensen.”
    Both of Jerome’s eyebrows rose this time. “Seth Mortensen?”
    I started to ask how many Mortensens he knew, but Roman’s next words cut me off. “Yeah, she’s shown up a couple times, attempting some sort of lame seduction.”
    My anger started to kindle again and then—
    “Wait. A couple times?” I exclaimed. “More than