Succubus Revealed (Georgina Kincaid 6)

My thoughts were still moving sluggishly, but something clicked into place. "The transfer . . . the transfer came through the morning after I told Jerome about Seth calling me Letha."

"Yes," said Roman. "That's why things were mucked up with it. I guarantee my dear father has always known about your contracts and has accepted them grudgingly, especially if Seth's contract allows for you two to keep running into each other. But, when you told the gang about the name, Jerome had a serious problem. He recognized the violation and tattled to his superiors as fast as he could, making them panic and act quickly - too quickly - to get you out of here."

"But . . . it already happened. Seth remembered. The violation took place," I said, scarcely able to believe it.

"It's like a tree in the woods," remarked Hugh. "It only happens if they're called on it. Neither you nor Seth would have known about the contracts or any violation. You were oblivious. Jerome needed to keep it that way, get you guys apart and kill any chance of you figuring out what had happened."

"Hence the Vegas dream job," said Roman. "It's like we talked about before. Forbidding you guys to be together would've drawn too much attention. A run-of-the-mill transfer, however, would've seemed like business as usual - if not for the screwup. Hell was so anxious to get it going that they sent you the memo before Jerome had a chance to meet with you. I guarantee everything you saw in Vegas was thrown together on a day's notice."

I drew my hand back from Hugh's and buried my face in my palm. "Oh God."

Roman patted my shoulder in a way that was probably supposed to be comforting but mostly made me grit my teeth. "God's not the one you've got to look to right now. Do you realize what you've got here, Georgina? A once in a millennium opportunity to thwart Hell! You can challenge them, call your contract into dispute. And Seth's. All you need to do is talk to him, get the exact details of - "

I jumped up from my chair, finally giving way to all my own grief and fury. "No! Didn't you see his face? Didn't you hear him? He won't talk to me! Not now, not ever. And don't say he's just in shock again," I warned, seeing Roman about to speak. "You don't know what I did, what it was like for him . . . back then. There's a reason I made him forget! He's not going to forgive me for this. Never. He didn't then and isn't going to now. Oh Lord. Why did we have to do this? Why did we have to make him remember? We should've just let him forget. . . . Everything was fine. . . ." My frantic pacing led me over to the living room window, where I drew back the curtains. It was late in the day now, the sunset turning the clouds orange.

"Fine?" asked Roman, coming to stand beside me. "Hell was creating elaborate ploys to separate you and cover their asses! And they were killing his sister-in-law to do it. That is not fine. You and Seth have done nothing but play into Hell's hands all these centuries. Over and over, you find each other and lose each other, you bicker and fight, throw it all away on mistrust and lack of communication. Are you going to let that continue? Especially when they didn't even give you what you were promised?"

I rested my cheek against the glass, taking comfort in the coolness, refusing to listen to Roman's logic. "But Seth didn't remember until we made him."

"Not true. He remembered before that," said Roman. "On his own, when he called you Letha. That's how this all started. Nothing we did here changed that."

"He hates me," I said, fully aware of how whiny I sounded.

Roman didn't try to deny it. "People forgive."

I scoffed. "Do they?"

"They do," said Hugh, coming to stand on my other side. "Seth must have - or whomever he used to be. Your husband. Why else would he have made that bargain in the first place to find you?"

"Because he didn't remember what I'd done," I said. I met Hugh's eyes. "He only knew that I was missing from his life."

"You answered your own question, sweetie. His love for you was stronger than his hate, if he was able to remember the one and not the other."

I wanted to argue with that but didn't know how. "I can't . . . I can't face him. You don't know what this is like. It's . . ." My lifelong fear? My greatest sin? "I just can't."

"We need to know about the rest of his contract," said Roman. "We need all the details if we're going to see this through."

Hugh sniffed. "You keep saying 'we,' but somehow I don't see you being the one filing the paperwork with Hell to challenge her contract." When Roman didn't answer, Hugh added, "Which, by my estimate, we don't need any more of Seth's information for. We already have enough to question her contract's integrity."

"Question its integrity?" exclaimed Roman. "We have enough evidence to blow it wide open." There was that metaphor again. Roman loved the dramatic. "Hell failed to hold up their end of the bargain. They told you they'd make everyone forget. Obviously, they didn't."

"It may not be quite that simple. Hell will question what you call evidence," said Hugh.

"But it can be done, right?" asked Roman. "You know how to do it - to file the necessary paperwork?"

"Well, I've never done it before," said Hugh. "Jesus. I don't know anyone who's done it."

I dragged my gaze from the window. "Don't," I told Hugh. "It's not worth it. You don't know anyone who's done it because no imp who values his job or his life would ever try to get a contract revoked. I don't want you doing that for me."

"Hugh," said Roman, looking over me like I wasn't even there. "You could free her. You could get her soul back for her. You could end this life she has - sleeping with strangers for eternity."

"Stop it," I snapped. "Stop trying to guilt him into it. I made this choice. No one tricked me into being a succubus. They told me what it entailed and what I'd get."

"And you didn't get it," said Hugh quietly.

"It doesn't matter," I said. If I didn't have Seth, one form of Hell was as bad as another.

"I would do it for you," said Hugh. "I'll file the paperwork. Maybe you knew what you were getting into, but that doesn't mean you don't have the right to change your mind - especially if you were played. If you want it, I'll help you do it."

"Why?" I asked, recalling all the times Hugh had become uneasy whenever we'd talked of challenging the status quo. "Why would you risk it?"

"Because you're my friend," Hugh said, his lips twisting into a bitter half smile. "And that still means something to me. Besides, give your pal Hugh some credit here. I might be able to pull this off with minimal punishment for myself."

A strange feeling welled within my chest, tight at first and then loosening. This day had become one impossible thing after another. Somehow, hearing Hugh say it made it more real. I was so used to Roman's ideas and dreams for undermining Hell that at times, it was easy to ignore them. But to hear Hugh saying this might actually work . . .

I swallowed, feeling more tears were on the way. "I can't even imagine that. A world where I don't belong to Hell. I don't know what my life would look like."

"Like anything you want it to," said Hugh, wrapping me in a hug. Behind me, I heard Roman sigh.

"Well. I'll settle for one contract blowing up in Hell's face. I mean, Seth was already Hell-bound anyways, wasn't he? With or without any of this?"

I winced. It was true. Seth's soul - once so bright and shining - had darkened when he cheated on Maddie with me. He'd come to my bed out of love but had still felt guilty over what he'd done. The mark of sin had tainted his soul enough that were he to die right now, Seth would go to Hell.

Hugh cleared his throat and let go of me, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "It's funny you mention that. . . ."

"Why?" I asked.

"I hadn't seen him in a while and nearly didn't notice . . . but today when he was here, his soul . . ." Hugh shook his head. "I don't know what all he's done, but it's lightened. It's not the spotlight it used to be, but something's changed. Enough of the taint's gone now that I don't think he's marked for Hell anymore."

"Except, he is because of his contract," I realized. "That was the price for all those lives. It doesn't matter how good he is." I felt my legs grow weak again and had to struggle to stay up. Seth had redeemed himself for his sin. How? Probably through the sacrifices he'd made for his family. He'd given up the things he loved most for them - writing, even me. It was a remarkable feat, something few humans were able to rebound from. Usually, those who were damned stayed damned.