Succubus on Top (Georgina Kincaid 2)

I nodded. I did know what he meant, and he was right -  being with Seth made me especially cognizant of the subtleties.

"You know, I didn't come here to discuss this," I told them. Both had the tendency to steer me off topic into subjects I didn't want to explore.

"Well, do enlighten us then," said the archdemon indulgently. "I'm dying to know what would draw you away from suburban conspiracy and mortal intrigue in the middle of the day."

"Actually, it involves mortal intrigue."

I gave them a debriefing on the Doug situation. Jerome maintained his perpetual look of disinterest. Carter almost did, but snide or not, he was still an angel, and I saw compassion flicker in his eyes as I spoke. He couldn't help it.

"So, I finally managed to get Alec to give me the stuff, and now I need to know what it is. You two seemed like my best shots at identification. "

Jerome's disinterest turned to astonishment. "This is what we've been reduced to? Drug identification? Do we look like the DEA?"

Carter stretched lazily. "Remember the good old days when succubi used to want our help defending them from nephilim and other lethal creatures? This is a sign of the times, I tell you. "

I let them have a good laugh at my expense, forcing myself to stay calm and not say something that would get me into trouble.

"Are you guys done?" I asked a minute later. "Because I'd really like to get moving on this."

"Are you going to share some of it with us if we can tell you what it is?" asked Jerome.

Rolling my eyes, I reached into my purse. With a flourish, I tossed the little bag out onto the table so it slid across the surface and came to rest just in front of both of them.

Their smiles disappeared.

They stared at the bag for a moment and then - in almost perfect synchronization - looked at each other and back to me.

When Carter spoke, he was amused, but grimly amused. "Maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to rule out supernatural monsters after all."

"How," exclaimed Jerome, nostrils flaring, "do you always manage to get yourself mixed up in the middle of this shit?"

I looked back and forth between the two of them. "What? What is it?"

"This, Georgina," announced Carter, tapping the bag with his finger, "is the Food of the Gods."

CHAPTER 15

A dozen snappy comebacks rose to my lips, but the intense looks on both their faces made me think better of it. Instead, I opted for the obvious next question.

"What do you mean?"

The edge of Carter's lips turned into a half-grin. "My goodness. I thought you'd be up on your lore. Greek mythology especially."

"Well, ambrosia...is called the Food of the Gods," I offered slowly. I had grown up in a Greco-Roman society, but that didn't mean I was an expert on all the stories. I'd only been exposed to some in my youth. It wasn't until later scholars started compiling tales from all over the Greek world that I learned just how vast the mythology was.

"Yes," said Carter, nodding at me as one would a child reciting a lesson. Jerome remained tight-lipped, a stormy expression on his face. "What else do you know?"

"Ambrosia was what gave the gods their immortality," I continued. "Although I always thought it was some kind of drink..." I stopped myself. The crystals weren't liquid at the moment, but they were meant to be consumed that way. A further alarming thought hit me. "Are you saying this Greek stuff will make Doug and the others immortal?"

I'm downright unstoppable now. A god, babe.

"Not exactly," said Carter. "And I suppose I should point out that ambrosia isn't just found in the Greek stories. It appears in almost every culture's legends in one form or another. In King Arthur's world, it was said to have filled the Holy Grail. It gave new perceptions and enlightenment to its drinkers, and promised to heal the land. Some have also suggested the flames that appeared over the apostles' heads at the feast of Pentecost were not flames at all, but rather visions they saw after drinking ambrosia. It made the apostles vivid and charismatic and let them communicate with people of all cultures and languages."

"I know a number of devout Christians - my good friend Dana included - who would find that offensive."

Jerome couldn't stay silent anymore, despite how disgruntled this topic appeared to make him. "Imagine her reaction if she knew that some people have speculated the Eucharist has little to do with the blood of Christ and more to do with a lost ambrosia ceremony. Said people argue those who participate today are only mimicking the ancient experience, equating the Holy Spirit with the high from ambrosia."

"That would upset a lot of people," I agreed. All three of us knew that many of the rites and beliefs that had been passed down to today were bastardizations of the originals. Some, not all.

Carter continued on pleasantly, like he was in an auditorium giving a lecture. "Ancient Hindu culture called ambrosia soma and even personified it as a god of the same name. His presence was as intoxicating as the drink itself and muddled the senses of those around him. "

"Soma was also the feel-good drug in Brave New World," I recalled. "I didn't realize how widespread this was."

He nodded. "And these stories are only the tip of the iceberg. A lot more where they came from."

I enjoyed the information. Getting any sort of meaningful explanation from these two was usually like driving through downtown Seattle in rush hour: slow, painful, and fraught with collisions. And yet, forthcoming or not, they weren't exactly giving me what I needed.

"Yeah, but you guys are real careful to say things like 'some people believe' or 'they say.' Which is it? What's really going on? Are any of those stories true?"

Carter's gray eyes twinkled. "Ah, I can't spoil the mysteries. Humans spend their lives trying to discern the truth of divinity. Even a succubus can't be in on all the secrets."

I gave him an exasperated look. This was more like their typical behavior. "Okay, forget the myths. Can you tell me what's up with this stuff, then? Does it make people immortal?"

Angel and demon looked at each other. "No," they both said in unison.

"But it makes you feel like you are," said Carter.

I thought about Doug's reckless behavior, his overwhelming confidence about everything from performing his music to stage-diving. He had no fear, no concern that anything might be less than perfect.

"So it's like a stimulant or any other mood-altering drug, then," I said. "It makes you feel good."

The angel shook his head. "No. It's a lot more than that. Ambrosia works by..." He grasped for the words. "I guess the best way to put it is that it amplifies your best abilities. It draws out what you're good at, what shines in you. And then it cranks up the volume on that to, well, godly levels, I guess."

"Yes, of course," I breathed.

That was why the band had suddenly shot off so successfully and rapidly. They were talented already. The ambrosia hadn't given them anything new; they'd just had their natural abilities increased tenfold. A hundredfold. And Casey...mathematically talented Casey had been able to do calculations in seconds that would have required a pen and paper for most people. Even Doug's Tetriss kills showed signs of ambrosia enhancement.

Ican't wait to see how you react to them, Alec had said. Indeed, how would I react? What good abilities in me would get amplified? What abilities did I have? The obvious joke was that I'd be able to really rock some guy's world in bed. I didn't like that answer, however, partially because I believed I already could rock a guy's world pretty hard-core without the help of creepy crystals, thank you very much. Plus, I hated to think that's all I was. There had to be more to me than just sexual prowess.

"Everyone who was on it crashed," I reminded Carter. "Doug, Casey. And when they crashed...they really crashed."

"It does that," he agreed. "One might argue that the withdrawal brings out your worst traits...or possibly turns your good ones bad. More often than not, it just makes a person depressed...and lacking. It's hard to go back to being ordinary. "

That would explain Doug's bleak outlook the other day. I realized too he'd been having a withdrawal reaction on the day I kicked him out of the store. The lack of ambrosia had turned his normally sarcastic tongue and playful behavior into something dark and twisted. And yet...