Sirens and Other Daemon Lovers

Two long, long legs in perfect beige stockings; crossed, shoeless, lapped by a wide skirt of white linen. He felt a huge and stupid grin come over his face: She’d come out to meet him. A sweet gesture—he knew how much Lilith hated sun glare.

His pause of surprise had been noted. A humorous “tsk-tsk” floated from within, the voice detached and friendly. “Don’t just stand there. Come in, and let’s get you out of all this nasty sunlight.”

He laughed and tossed his duffel onto the floor, then followed it inside.

Ten months and two weeks since he’d last seen her, and he hadn’t been in good shape then, of course. Now he had the energy to appreciate the visuals. She was wearing all white linen, with a thin bracelet of white gold on one pale wrist. Waves of red-gold hair poured over her shoulders. And folded like this into the back of a car seat, even a limo, her tall form translated into legs that went on for years.

“Long time, Bailey.”

“Three hundred and twenty days. But who’s counting?”

She smiled and he wondered if it would be a little more cool to try and wipe this grin off his face. Oh, fuck it. Then she leaned over and kissed him—on his mouth, but just a welcome kiss, a taste; and his grin faded as he found himself trying to pinpoint just what fruit her lips reminded him of; something cool and heavy with summer sweetness. Already his concentration was shot to hell—probably the effect of all this tropical sun.

She shifted her legs, moving further away from the window as the car pulled out. “I take it you’re here on a case?”

He nodded. She glanced at the driver, then back at him. “Below the line or above?” She meant, legal or shady? Could they talk about it in front of someone else?

“Below.”

“Ah.”

They moved out of the airport and all of three minutes later they were in San Cristobel proper; Bailey divided his attention between the wrist just touching his thigh, the bare foot resting against his shoe, and the town passing by the limousine windows. He should really pay more attention to the last, he supposed, but it was always a little disorienting, the first day back with Lilith.

Sunlight, and a two-lane street, and everywhere buildings saturated with color; electric pastels, blue and pink and violet; even the whites were blinding. Was that all really paint, or just the stage lighting of the tropical sun? There was a vague confusion of tourist signs; ice cream, hotels, boarding houses, bars, dance clubs.

And banks. Lots of banks. No wonder Lilith had business here. In addition to the National Bank of Galera Cay, there were branches of Credit Suisse, Barclay’s, First Tokyo…

Money center or not, it wasn’t exactly New York. Fifteen minutes later they were out of town, running along a slightly less well-paved road, past one-story houses set among flowers and small blue swimming pools.

“Bailey.”

“What?”

She lifted the hand beside hers on the seat, as coolly as if she were lifting papers from a briefcase, and touched her tongue to the center of his palm. Christ. It was like a slight electrical charge. He glanced toward the driver, but she’d done it so casually he didn’t seem to have noticed. She took Bailey’s index and middle finger into her mouth for a moment, sucked, and men nipped the ends in a playful reminder. Then she laid his hand back on the seat.

“I’m glad you could come,” she said.

Ten months and two weeks. His heart started jack-hammering.

The house was a long, white, L-shaped rectangle, set on a package of neatly landscaped ground on the top of a hill. A vista of blue water curved in the distance. A stand of ferns, elephant ears, and orchids screened the back; there was probably a small swimming pool somewhere behind it. Purple-red bougainvillea surrounded the patio.

And there was a porte-cochere. No wonder Lilith liked it.

She opened the door, retrieving a briefcase from the floor as she did. “I had to attend a meeting in town this morning,” she explained, gesturing with the case. She fished around for the umbrella she habitually used as a parasol, and Bailey handed it to her, along with the white sandals he found thrust, typically, under the front seat.

“Sure, crush my feeble hopes. I thought you’d come out into all this evil solar radiation for my sake alone.”

She smiled. “I hired the car for you, anyway. Teej took the convertible into town, and I didn’t want you wandering around on your own. I’d probably find you sitting here in the bougainvillea when I got back.”

“And you figured I’d bring down the property values.”

She turned and dropped a kiss from those cool lips on his cheek. Papaya? “As a renter,” she whispered, and he felt her smile, “it’s not a problem for me. But I have a duty to the neighbors.”