She shrugged and began to flip through a rack of clothing in the back of the store. Frederick's of Hollywood was crammed full of lacy undergarments in all shades of red, pink, and black, and I'd never noticed that they carried clothing, too. I'd never been shopping in here before-no sense in sticking a bikini on a sausage.

The store was empty this early in the day, except for one yawning salesgirl who flipped through a magazine at the counter, Jamba Juice in hand.

"Sometimes I avoid them," Remy was saying, pulling out a bright blue top with some fuzzy crap around the collar.

I had to think back to what she meant. Oh yes, masters.

"Most of the time, though, we just have an understanding." She held the top against my chest and nodded. "You should definitely dress in brighter colors. Gray is so blah. And sweats? Burn them, girl. Only fat slobs wear sweats."

I flinched at that and tried to hand the fluffy top back to her. "You're not going to find anything in my size here, Remy. We should go somewhere else." This was going to be downright humiliating, once she realized I was one of the fat, sweats-wearing slobs.

Remy just started piling miniskirts and slinky bodysuits into my arms. "You're wrong. I'm a pretty good judge of flesh." She winked at me. "And you're a size six, I'd say."

"Uh, you meant to put a one in front of that number, didn't you?" Okay, so I was closer to a 14, but I could border into unfriendly territory during certain times of the month.

"Nope." She shoved me toward the dressing room. "Go try this stuff on. If you're going out with me tomorrow, you have to dress appropriately."

"I'm going out with you tomorrow?" Who the heck agreed to that one?

"Don't try to change the subject. Get dressed." She flung a few hangers of lacy panties at me and ignored my question. "What bra size are you?"

"Remy-" I began.

She cut me off. "Do you like these panties?" They were crotchless.

I cringed. "You want me to try on underpants?"

"No, dummy. Just put on one pair and we'll buy the rest." She snorted and tossed more undergarments my way. "Rube."

"Remy!" I repeated, standing there clutching my pants around my waist. "I'm not trying these on."

Remy rolled her eyes. "I suppose I'm going to have to do everything for you. You look pretty pathetic right now, you know that?" She turned away and waved to the salesgirl. "Excuse me, but my friend here needs to be measured for a bra. Her tits are overflowing."

Her voice was loud enough to carry into the mall. I wanted to die right then and there. Instead, I slammed the dressing room door shut and wondered if there was a way to escape before she forced me to try the clothes on.

There was a hesitant knock at the door. "Um, miss? I need to measure you for a bra." There was some whispering on the other side, and the salesgirl paused, then added, "Your friend says I have to, or she's going to bring Noah back."

Visions of having mad sex in a dressing room crowded through my mind. Horrified at the thought, I edged the door open a crack, glaring at Remy. "You don't play fair."

"I know." She grinned.

I took my sweatshirt off and allowed the girl to measure me, my eyes shut so I couldn't see disgust cross her face as she saw my unsightly flab exposed to the world.

"34 double-D" the salesgirl announced, then exited the room.

"Huh?"

Remy snorted and shut the door, leaving me alone with the mirror. "I'll give you a minute to dress."

I stood there in dumbfounded surprise until a bra smacked me in the forehead. Another flew over the door, and then another, a veritable rainbow of bras-all 34DD.

I picked one up and stared at it in shock. "This is a mistake, Remy. I'm a B. I have been since puberty."

"Not anymore," she called out cheerfully. "Sucks have a few perks, one of which is being the object of every man's fantasy. Which comes with nice boobs, I might add."

I'll say. I was staring at the mirror in shock at my naked chest. Speaking of perks. Speaking of perks. They were perky, all right. We're talking plastic-surgery bounce and fullness, but without the fakeness. Not a stretch mark, not a flaw, not even a hint of sag. They were perky, all right. We're talking plastic-surgery bounce and fullness, but without the fakeness. Not a stretch mark, not a flaw, not even a hint of sag.

My waist was amazing, too, curving in more than I'd thought possible. I was shocked I even had had a waist. I blinked and poked the mirror, wondering if it was a trick of the light. When I passed my hand in front of it several times and it looked normal, I began examining the rest of my body with delight. a waist. I blinked and poked the mirror, wondering if it was a trick of the light. When I passed my hand in front of it several times and it looked normal, I began examining the rest of my body with delight.

The face was the first to hit scrutiny. It didn't look that different, except a bit more sensual. My brows were perfect, my lips full and pink, and my eyes were a striking shade of silver. My hair looked like something out of a Pantene commercial, shiny, bright red, and bouncing in thick waves across my shoulders. I turned and let my sweatpants fall to my ankles.

Holy crap, I had an ass.

Which is not to say I didn't have one before, but it was flat and wide and had little cellulite dimples. The new butt in the mirror was perfect, rounded, and nary a hint of cottage cheese.

Remy knocked on the door. "It got quiet in there. You okay?"

"I don't look like me me anymore," I said, turning in the mirror. anymore," I said, turning in the mirror.

"Yeah, I know. Like I said, there's a few perks with the job. I was as fat as a Christmas turkey before I changed." Remy sounded amused. "You get used to it, and then you start to enjoy it. Trust me."

I ran my hands down my new gorgeous body. I could almost live with the forced "sex every week" thing if this was the trade-off.

Almost.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Thirteen stores, ten hours, and several thousand dollars later, I wobbled out of Victoria's Secret in a pair of stilettos. "I can hardly walk in these things. What made you think dressing me up like this was a good idea?" They'd laugh me off the museum floor if I showed up in a pair of shoes composed of a few artful pink straps held together by a glittery butterfly.

"Because it is? And if you're going in to work with me tomorrow, you've got to be a little more stylish."

I wasn't sure how a snakeskin miniskirt and thigh-high leather boots were job-appropriate, but it was her money. Same went for the electric blue silk tank top barely covering my large, rather bouncy breasts.

I did have to admit that I looked hot as all get-out. Remy had shelled out thousands of dollars for the clothing we currently carried without a word of protest. And while it wasn't clothing that I would have bought in a million years, it looked pretty damn good on the new me.

I paused in front of my reflection and fluffed my flame-red hair again, still shocked that the gorgeous woman staring back was me.

Remy cleared her throat and turned to glare at me. "Can you stop checking your reflection every window we walk past? It's getting a little old."

Mortified, I whirled around and nearly walked into a tall black-haired man in a trench coat. "Sorry," I said, and hurried over to Remy's side.

He nodded and flashed a bladelike smile in my direction, an inky lock of hair falling over his forehead. "Not a problem."

I glanced back at him as he continued on his way. "So," I said, changing the subject. "Why do I have to go to work with you tomorrow?"

We were passing the food court, and it smelled like Heaven. Granted, I might not see Heaven at this point, given my line of work, but if I did I imagine it'd smell like Cinnabon and Taco Bell.

To my immense relief, Remy made a beeline for the food court, her long black hair swinging as she walked. "Because I can't leave you alone by yourself. Who knows what kind of trouble you'll get yourself into?" When she glanced over at me, I noticed the startling blueness of her eyes. They'd gotten brighter over the past few hours, which meant that she was about to go into heat. "The first few days are crucial."

Seeing as how I knew nothing about succubuses, I was forced to believe her.

We threw our shopping bags down on a table, and I practically ran to Taco Bell. When I returned, I saw that Remy had not one, not two, but three cheeseburgers on her plate, and the biggest milkshake I'd ever seen. I'd tried to play it cool and get a taco salad, and at the sight of all her food I was totally jealous. "How can you eat that much and stay so skinny?"

She gave me an odd look. "You can eat whatever you want-your appearance isn't going to change. That's part of the whole package."

Heaven indeed! I was starting to think I'd be okay with this. "I'll be right back, then," I said, excitement in my voice, and headed back for a few more burritos.

To my surprise, the hot guy in the trench coat was in line and smiled at me as I stepped forward to order. He walked away as I ordered, and I grabbed my tray full of food, frowning. A stalker?

I hurried back to our table, where Remy was polishing off her first burger. "That's the second time I've seen that guy in the black coat," I told her, then took a huge bite out of my first burrito. It was better tasting than anything I'd had in weeks, and I closed my eyes in bliss. An Afterlife full of carbs couldn't be all that bad.

When I opened my eyes Remy was out of her seat, cheeseburger hanging from her mouth as she gathered up her bags again. I crammed as much of the burrito in my mouth as I could, not caring how ridiculous I looked. "Um, are we leaving?" A few beans trickled out of my mouth as I spoke. "Can we eat first?"

She shook her head and headed for the exit doors. "Leave. Now." Her words were muffled around her own cheeseburger, and I scooped up my clothing and burritos and trotted after her as best I could in my four-inch heels.

The hair prickled on the back of my neck as we ran through the empty parking garage and back to her BMW. We had the doors locked within seconds, and Remy didn't even let me buckle my seat belt before ripping out of the parking lot like the end of the world was upon us.

My burrito smashed into the passenger window, spraying beans and hot sauce everywhere. I slid against the door, trying to stay in my seat and failing. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I shouted, glaring at her from the other side of the car. "You're going to get us killed!"

She ignored me, tossing her cheeseburger on the dashboard and putting both hands on the steering wheel to take the most frightening U-turn of my life. My body slammed against the car door again and I groaned. "Stop that!"

"Quit being a baby and buckle up. We have to get out of here ASAP unless you want to stick around and find out if your follower is a vamp or a dealer. Either one spells trouble."

I fumbled with the seat belt. "You think someone's after me?" Heck, I didn't even know what a dealer was, yet I'd managed to piss one off?

Remy ran a red light and cut through a side street. I closed my eyes so I couldn't see her driving anymore. "If the vamps suspect you were turned into a succubus-and I bet someone knows-they'll be looking for you." The car swerved hard to the right again, and Remy's long hair smacked me in the face as we cornered. "A succubus is the perfect tool for a vampire, since we can go places they can't. Throw in your vamp master, and you don't have the luxury of telling them 'no.'"

She paused for a long moment, the only sound the squealing of the tires and other cars as they honked at us. "Speaking of which, if your vamp master is an unscrupulous type-and most are-then it's a safe bet that he's going to try to use you for his own devices. I made a deal with my master, and you can do the same with yours, but they're generally not good good deals to make. I had to give up two hundred years of my free will to get him off my back for the next two hundred. And when those finish, I have to answer to him again." deals to make. I had to give up two hundred years of my free will to get him off my back for the next two hundred. And when those finish, I have to answer to him again."

I thought of the Dumpster and what the homeless man had said: Black-haired. Real tall. He kissed your cheek and then dumped you in there. Black-haired. Real tall. He kissed your cheek and then dumped you in there.

"I think they know that I'm still alive," I admitted.

"I thought that might be the case," said Remy. "They seem to have their fingers in everything, and they're going to try to get to you before the dealers do."

"What are dealers?"

"Most of 'em are angels, but not the kind like Noah. These are the ones with access to Heaven. Most Sucks I know call them dealers because that's what they do. They offer you a deal, which turns out to be more like a hit of drugs for us undead types, and you end up addicted. You need to avoid dealers most of all, because they tend to offer things that you feel you can't pass up. It's best to never get involved."

Silence hovered between us.

"What are you thinking?" Remy's voice floated through the silent car.

"I'm thinking that the clothes, the new body, and the food can't hide the fact that this is a major shit deal," I said, unable to keep the fear and anger out of my voice. I clung to the chicken bar in the car, keeping my eyes squeezed shut. "If I'm stuck between angels and vampires that want me to do their dirty work, and I have to have sex every seven days-"

"Two," Remy corrected.

My eyes flew open just in time to see her screech through a four-way stop, slamming on her horn as she cut off a Buick. "What did you say?"

"I lied to you earlier. It's actually sex every two days. I just didn't want you to get alarmed."

Alarmed?

Alarmed?

I wasn't alarmed, I was furious. "You're kidding me, right?"

She shook her head, put on her turn signal, and raced up a long driveway. "Nope. Two days."

"Before meeting Noah, I hadn't had sex in a year and a half. Or even dated dated in a year and a half." in a year and a half."

Remy giggled girlishly. "Really? How funny."

"I'm not laughing," I snapped. "I don't go around getting into bed with every guy that I date, either. I only have sex in relationships."

She winked at me and reached for her cheeseburger off the dashboard. "That's not what I heard outside the confessional."

I gasped. "I think I hate you."

Remy laughed at my outrage. "No, you don't. Try to think of me as your new best friend. Trust me when I say you'll want to stick with me for the next few weeks. It's much safer that way."

Our frightening roller coaster of a ride had taken us to a sprawling mansion that should have been in Beverly Hills. Trimmed hedges adorned a perfectly sculpted lawn, the driveway was longer than the street I'd grown up on, and twinkling lanterns lined the path to the door. The very big, stained-glass door with a beautiful rose window above it could have been copied from the cathedral at Notre Dame. "Uh, is this your place?" I asked as Remy parked.

She nodded, grabbing her bags out of the back of the car. "Fully warded against all angels, vampires, and demons. Magical protection to keep them out. You can stay with me, until we establish your boundaries with all of the gang. Come on, I'll show you your room."

I wobbled after her on the cobblestones. "Did you just say demons demons?"

CHAPTER NINE.

The room Remy graciously gave me for my personal use was bigger than my apartment on the far side of town. The angry part of me was disgusted, but the girly part of me wanted to frolic in the massive closet, the canopy bed, and the sunken bathtub with power jets. I let the frolic side win.

After I hung up all my new clothes, tested all the expensive shampoos and lotions on the vanity, and took an hour-long bubble bath, I poked through my new clothes. My mouth watered as the faint scent of breakfast hit my nostrils, and I decided to follow the scent of bacon downstairs. I dressed in my new silk pajamas-the most decent item of clothing I now owned-and searched through the mansion until I found Remy, my cell phone in hand.

My new roommate was in the kitchen, sitting at the marble breakfast bar with a cup of coffee. Her silky black hair hung in an elegant, smooth ponytail, and she was dressed in a beautiful lounge set of sky blue. She looked like an ad for Elegant Living Elegant Living magazine. "Back so soon?" magazine. "Back so soon?"

I thrust the phone at her. "First things first. If I call in sick to work again, I'll get fired for sure."