The Siren's Call: An Original Halloween Quickie

Time for a spooky story, boys and ghouls! In honor of all things that go bump in the night, here's an original Halloween short featuring Selene the succubus, a deliciously evil seductress who gives Nicki Styx a run for her money in SILENT NIGHT, HAUNTED NIGHT (book #4 in the series, on sale Oct. 27th):

THE SIREN'S CALL by Terri Garey

There she was.

Miss Caramel Macchiato, looking hotter than any melt-in-your-mouth coffee ever would, the same girl he saw every Saturday morning at Starbucks.

It had been a stroke of luck to overhear her cellphone conversation when they were in line the other day. Wild Times Club wasn’t one of his normal hang-outs, but for this girl, Brad was willing to make an exception. The loud music, the strobe lights and the press of noisy humanity faded into the background as he wove his way easily through the crowd, his eyes on the evening’s conquest.

“Excuse me, but don’t I know you?”

Miss Macchiato was laughing, one slender shoulder angled his way as she leaned over the table toward her girlfriend. Dark hair, rich with chestnut highlights, ruby red lips. When she turned toward him, Brad could see her eyes were brown, alight with humor and intelligence.

Oddly enough, the light faded as she registered his presence.

“I don’t think so.”

A definite coolness to her tone should have warned him, but undaunted, Brad nodded his head thoughtfully, a broad smile on his face.

“Saturday mornings – Starbucks in Soho, right?”

Now she gave him her full attention, turning in her seat to face him, one elbow still on the table. It gave him a great view of her red vee-necked top, cut low in back and even lower in front.

“I’m Brad.” He struggled to keep his eyes where they belonged. “I see you there all the time.” No need to rush – this girl was gorgeous, and worth a little extra effort.

“Ah, right.” A tight smile and a polite nod of recognition before she turned away, taking a sip of her drink.

Ah? That’s all he got? An ah? Women usually liked a good-looking guy who knew how to dress, and how to treat a lady. He’d had no complaints, so far.

At least none he’d stuck around to hear.

“Can I buy you and your friend another round?”

Brad offered the girlfriend – a chubby blonde in a too-tight sweater – a charming smile before turning his gaze back to the brunette.

“I don’t think so.”

A short giggle came from the blonde, annoying Brad to no end. He shot her a glance and was happy to learn she wasn’t as dumb as she looked, as she quickly murmured an excuse and headed to the ladies’ room.

Brad was alone with the woman he'd been lusting after for weeks, and completely at a loss for words. Of all the fantasies he’d indulged in about this moment, being shot down in four simple words was not one of them.

Someone bumped into him from behind, forcing him closer to her table. He could smell her scent now – warm and smoky, like spices and chocolate. From his vantage point, he could see the top of her head and the delicate curve of a breast, plainly visible in the flickering light from the dance floor.

Swallowing hard, Brad decided to give it another try.

“Is it my aftershave or something? I can go home, take a shower and be back in a half an hour.”

Women liked men who could make a joke about themselves. The technique appeared to work like a charm, because this time when Miss Macchiato looked at him, she smiled.

“Perhaps you should do that. It certainly wouldn’t hurt – and I’ll be right here when you get back, I promise.”

Her voice was seductive, sending a thrill to his groin even though he knew she didn’t mean a word of it. She was teasing him – toying with him, and it made him angry.

If only she wasn’t so damn beautiful – so damn sexy. He thought she looked fabulous in the athletic clothes she usually wore for coffee, but that red top she was wearing should be illegal. Her eyes sparkled with humor, but Brad didn’t like it, because it was at his expense. He turned, poker-faced, to leave the crowded bar.

“Oh, don’t go away mad. . .” the murmured words were barely audible above the music, but Brad heard them just the same, “just go away.”

Pissed off, he spun back toward the table.

“You know, you should really try the iced cappucino next time you stop for coffee. Suits your Ice Queen personality much better.”

One auburn eyebrow arched.

“Finally,” she said, “a bit of spirit. I was afraid there was no spine beneath that handsome exterior." She shrugged, strobe lights glimmering in her hair, moving across her slender shoulders, shadowing the vee of her blouse. "As for the cappucino, I’m afraid I don’t care for any tepid, watered down experiences,” her glance moved over him like a caress, “in my coffee, or my men.”

He should leave now – he really should. She’d made it clear he was beneath her notice, so why was he still standing here like an idiot? Why was he watching her every move as she uncrossed her legs and rose from the table?

She moved toward him, taking her time. She was in front of him now, her scent teasing his nose.

“Would you like to make love to me, Brad-from-the-coffee-shop?”

He hardened instantly, and from her knowing smile, she knew it, too.

She had one hand on his shoulder now, her breath fanning his ear as she spoke.

“If I told you to take me here – now – on this dance floor, would you do it?”

Soft hair brushed his cheek, and he shuddered, striving to control his breathing. What was she doing to him?

Amazed at himself, Brad nearly groaned his reply. “Yes.”

“Good boy,” she murmured.

Fingers lightly grazed his erection through his jeans. At that moment, Brad would have given anything to have them touch his skin. The pounding of club music seemed to match the pounding in his blood.

“Let’s go.” She had him by the hand now, pulling him toward the exit.

Dazed, he let her lead him, unsure whether it was the force of her personality or the force of his own lust that drew him.

“Wait. Slow down.”

She slowed long enough to cast him a questioning glance over her shoulder.

“What’s your name?”

At his question, an enigmatic smile curved her lips.

“Selene. But you’ll be calling me much more than that before this evening’s through.”

Was it just the flashing strobe lights that caused that red glint in her eyes? Had her teeth always been that white and sharply pointed?

Brad didn’t know and didn’t care. He just followed her out into the night.