Soul Stripper by Katana Collins

part of me wished it had been Julian I had fallen for first. It was too late now.
    Julian smiled sadly and cupped my face with one hand. “Oh, seraphim. I know that. You are not whom I worry about. Though it would be wise to get the relationship blessed by San Michel before moving forward. You must be careful. While love is not punished, lust alone is.” He winced as though the thought of this pained him. “As your mentor, I can only do so much to protect you.” He leaned in, his lips touching my ear. “And I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
     
    “Here.” Jules’s voice sounded more gruff than I remembered in my dreams. The tunneling vision surrounding my eyes came into focus again as I woke up out of my faint. “Let me help.” He took me by the wrist and applied pressure to the wound. “I’m not allowed to heal you, but this should speed up the natural process your body will take.”
    “Thanks, Jules,” I whispered.
    Julian looked at me, taking in my haphazard appearance. “I like the new look. You seem more . . . natural. Than your usual stripper costumes, that is.” I opened my mouth to throw a retort back at him, but he cut me off before I could. “So, what’s going on here?”
    “Well”—between my teeth, I chewed the fleshy corner of my mouth—“we were hoping you could tell us.”
    “Lucien’s not here?”
    “He’s in the back, in a meeting. We don’t know how long he’ll be.”
    He nodded. A moment of sadness flashed across his cherub face.
    “Do you know what the meeting is about, Jules?” My eyes narrowed at him. He seemed to know more than he was letting on. But that was typical of angels in general.
    He and Lucien worked together a lot as the demon and angel in charge of Nevada. True that Jules wasn’t quite Lucien’s equal yet in terms of status, but he’d get there soon. Many would think this would make them enemies—in actuality their jobs crossed paths often. The two considered each other an integral part of the world. Without good, there would be no evil. Without temptation, there would be no salvation. And so on and so forth.
    Whatever it was Julian knew, he quickly brushed it aside. “So you have lost your powers, then?” He asked looking at me.
    “Yes!” I started, “How did you kno—”
    “You’re bleeding.” He gestured to my hand, his face serious. “The main question we need to answer is why. Obviously, Lucien will be able to help more with this than I.”
    The click-clicking of the Newton’s Cradle was so loud, it sounded like a thunder crack every second. I walked over to his desk, picked it up, and allowed it to calibrate to my powers—which at the moment were virtually nonexistent. I could still hear and see supernaturally well. But that was about it. Basically one step above mortals. I slipped the desk toy into my bag, which muted the noise at least a little bit.
    “Can’t you help me?” I looked up at Julian. He was still a do-gooder—an angel who got his rocks off on helping people. “I mean, I’m not really a succubus anymore—am I? Not without my powers?”
    Kayce looked at me in shock. “Monica, why are you in such a rush to change this? Isn’t this, like, your dream?”
    “What are you talking about?” It was hard for me to focus on anything other than the damn clicking coming from inside my purse.
    “This is your chance”—Kayce walked toward me—“to live a fucking normal life—to have sex with whomever you want without repercussions. Don’t you get it? You and Drew can be together now.”
    I froze, stunned. To my right, I heard Julian intake a sharp breath, wincing at Kayce’s bad language. Or maybe at the thought of me having sex with someone.
    He leaned into me, his breath like a cool autumn breeze on my neck. “Take care of yourself, Monica. I’ll check in on you soon.”
    Another crack sounded through the air and Julian was gone. From deep inside my purse, the clicking of the Newton’s Cradle abruptly