Counterpart (Succubi & Incubi Assn.)

  Their reactions were expected, I guess.

  “Well shit, you could have fucked him.” Melinda shook her head sympathetically. “I actually don't know why you haven't already. I wouldn't even care that I'd kill him. That body is just—” she paused when she noticed my arched brow, “What? I’m just saying.”

  Daniel was more mature...

  “Wow. I’ve never heard of an immune human, or the story of Bethany,” he murmured.

  “Thank you.” I exclaimed. Finally someone who was taking this seriously, unlike some people, i.e.: Melinda.

  Then Daniel had to go and open his mouth again, “Which means we should sort out our sexual tension before things get serious.”

  I actually don’t know why I expected them to be serious about it. They thought it was some miracle or something. The only thing they were actually serious about was Tori, but both of them had taken it to wait, like Ethan said.

  “Hey, do you think this is alright?” Melinda walked into my room with a skin tight black dress on. The dress itself was so short that if she bent over, you would see what color her panties were, or if she was even wearing any.

  “You're going to a funeral, not to apply at a brothel.”

  I had laid out a few dresses that I thought would be appropriate for the funeral. But no matter how much I stared at the dresses, I couldn't bring myself to even try them on.

  “Fine, I'll go change.” She examined herself in my full length mirror, running her hands over her curves. “Still, this would do great wonders... oh well.” She brought her attention to me. “What are you wearing?”

  I looked down at the dresses again. There was a nice knee length one, a long sleeved one, and even a one shoulder one. All black, of course, maybe a hint of white here and there. None of them appealed to me or my mood though. “I don't know. It just doesn't feel right.”

  It was safe to say I was feeling kind of guilty for Geoff's death. It wasn't totally my fault, I know. But I kind of instigated it, so it was semi-my-fault.

  “Don't tell me you're getting the case of the guilt.” Melinda sat down on my bed.

  I sighed and leaned against my window sill. “I don't know, Mel. It just feels weird if I go. I didn't know the guy and I practically killed him.”

  “That wasn't your fault, Maya,” Melinda said, “You didn't know it was going to happen. By the way, why did you fuck him?”

  Really, she didn't catch on why I did it?

  I'll give her a few seconds to get it... she will.

  “Oh my God.” There it was. “You're the reason Tristan got his match back?” Melinda had a devious look upon her, and I was kind of worried about what she was going to say next. “Oh, Maya, this is a new level. I'm impressed.”

  “Please don't be impressed,” I quickly said, “it's not exactly something I'm proud about.” It didn’t get me anywhere but in the situation I am in right now.

  With that thought, I picked up the dresses and threw them back in my wardrobe.

  Decision made. I'm not going.

  “Don't feel guilty about it. He would be alive if it wasn't for Tori so don't beat yourself up. If anything, you should be pissed at her. Still, I so can't believe you did that,” she laughed loudly, “for Tristan too. Oh, you are so whipped.”

  Whipped? That's a new one. “I'm not whipped,” I retorted.

  “Yeah, you are.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Oh yeah?” She stood and walked slowly towards me, a challenging look in her green eyes. “So, who always turns up to gym all the time to give the MMA fighter some company in-between classes, also bears lunch while she’s at it?”

  “Not me.” I noticed my defensive tone instantly and Melinda wasn’t convinced, which only caused more words to come out. “It's called generosity.”

  “It's called being whipped.” She walked back towards the door, and before she left, she decided to make a whipping motion proceeding to run out of my room before I could throw something at her.

  “Whipped!” I heard her call out and I couldn’t help but glare at the door. Not that it did anything to me, but it could have helped and hit her. How was I even associated with these people? Is there one sane person in my life?

  There was a knock on my door and I didn't need to look to know who it was.

  “So, I heard whip and I was just wondering if you were—”

  “Don’t even finish that sentence, Daniel.”

  I heard the faint sound of him scratching his head and he cleared his throat. “You know what? I think I hear Melinda calling my name.” She wasn’t. “Coming, Mel.” He exited the room as fast as Melinda did.

  “I seriously need a new set of friends for a weekend,” I muttered, dropping my ass down on my bed.

  I could feel the weight of everything start to push against my shoulders. From Tristan to the guilt I was having now, everything was starting to overwhelm me.

  Negativity was something succubi and incubi held deep within us. It was something we lived on—besides sex. Guilt was something else. As much as it is rare for us to feel remorse, I had felt it previously, with Tristan.

  “Tell me right now, Maya. If you want me to leave her, I will.”

  “I don’t want you to leave her.”

  That was one of the days I’d love to go back to and change everything. He had given me the chance to tell him, right there and then I could’ve told him to leave her. I didn’t because I thought he would’ve been happy.

  But that’s not why I felt guilty.

  I felt guilty because I had led him to believe that we could be together, when in reality we couldn’t.

  Before Tori, it was me and him. We were those two people that had English together, and hung out a lot. We were practically inseparable.

  Now there was a giant ocean between us. Literally.

  “Are you alright?”

  I snapped my head up and spotted Ethan standing beside me. When did he get here? And how come I didn't hear him enter? “I'm seriously considering a privacy agreement.”

  I felt the bed dip beside me as he sat down. “What's wrong?”

  Was I that obvious? Why does he even care? “Since when have you showed sympathy?”

  “I haven’t. So, what's up?”

  “You don’t want to know,” I mumbled.

  “Try me.” He turned his eyes towards mine and I watched as the green in them darkened. There was a small wrinkle in between his eye brows and it almost seemed like it didn’t belong there.

  Did he really want to know?

  “You're going to laugh,” I warned.

  One brow popped up slightly and he said, “Have you ever seen me laugh, succubus?”

  Good point. I sighed. “Is it normal for a succubus to feel guilty at some point?”

  His brow moved up further and then his eyes narrowed. “You're feeling guilt?”

  I nodded.

  “It's not normal for a succubus to feel that emotion.” Great, I’m a freak. “But it could be your connection with Tristan. He could be feeling guilty about something and it's passing through to you.”

  What? “I'm feeling his emotions?”

  He nodded once. “You wouldn't be feeling them all. As far as I know, Bethany only felt them when Conrad was nearby, so that could be it.”

  When he was nearby? Does that mean Tristan is here? Is he at my dorm? “What do you mean by nearby?”

  Ethan thought for a few seconds. “A few miles at least.”

  Well there goes that thought.

  “Get dressed.” The sudden movement of him getting off my bed confused me.

  “Why?” I asked.

  He was opening my door when he paused, looking back to me while his hand moved to the handle. Oh, so now he wants to use the door. “Because we have a funeral to go to. Hurry up, you’ve got thirty minutes.”

  “And, if I say no?” I challenged.

  He seemed to find my question amusing, and for the first time,
I saw him smile as he opened my door. “I don’t take no for an answer, succubus.”

  ****

  “You know, this whole secret agency stuff is starting to turn into an episode of CSI.” As much as I refused to go to the funeral at first, Ethan continued to remind me who was in charge and now, here I am, watching a funeral that’s happening quite a distance away

  “I'm not stopping you from going over there.” Ethan joined my side on the hood of my car. He suggested that he could just transport us, but I wasn't having it, so I gave him a little reminder of what humanity is. Not saying that it was an easy drive though. All he could do was complain about the roads and my car. It was like listening to a teenager moan about a bitch at high school.

  “I'm fine here, thanks.” I even got dressed. I ended up choosing the long-sleeved fitted dress that reached below my knees. I don't know why Ethan made me dress up, but I guess it was the least I could do.

  Melinda was over there, amongst the large crowd that all came to say goodbye to the man who touched their hearts. The more I looked at all the mourning faces, the more I felt guilty. Ethan said it might be to do with Tristan because I can feel his emotions, but why would Tristan feel guilty? He didn't kill Geoff. His girlfriend did—with majority of the help from me.

  Daniel didn't really see what his part in this was so he decided to stay out of it and go out looking for his latest dose. Not sure where he was going, but I'm positive he wouldn't be looking far.

  “No Tori, hm,” Ethan said.

  I didn't know what he was talking about, but the question was answered when my eyes skimmed over the cowed, stopping at the familiar brown hair.

  Tristan.

  I knew it was him because my demon decided to make those stupid flutters in my stomach. Even in a tuxedo he looked good—sexy—it was almost too much.

  He was sitting in the front of the crowd, followed by a few of the other fighters who had been close to Geoff. His hair was the same as it had always been. The tuxedo done his body wonders, making him seem manlier than he already was. He wasn't smiling, and that was understandable. But that frown that he had on his face, I just wanted to get rid of it. I didn't like it.

  Ethan was right though, Tori was nowhere to be seen.

  “She probably knew both Melinda and I would be here,” I said.

  Ethan didn't answer.

  We watched the funeral happen, and my guilt just deepened every time one of the family members walked up to speak their words of departure. One by one, people walked up to the coffin, saying goodbye. Even Melinda decided to. There was also a small talk exchange between her and Tristan and I noted down to ask her about it later. I was surprised though. Not once did she make a move on a male. She just sat in her seat calmly, all to herself.

  When the funeral finally ended and the group walked off to do whatever they did after funerals, Melinda joined us back at the car.

  “That was so different.” She propped up beside me. “It was like depressing in a way.”

  “It's expected at a funeral,” I answered, still watching the people move in different directions. I had lost sight of Tristan once everyone started moving, so I wasn't sure if he had left yet or if he was talking to people.

  “Still, it kind of rubbed off on me. I've never been to a funeral.” This wasn't a surprise. “I don't think I want to go to another.”

  I moved off the hood and headed towards the driver’s seat. “I'm sure that's what everyone says.”

  “You're not going to go say goodbye?” she asked.

  Her words caught me off guard. “Why? I didn't even know the guy.”

  She shrugged and opened the back door. “I don't know it might help with the guilt. You could probably get closure or something.”

  I looked back at the graveyard. She wasn't wrong. Maybe it would help, considering I was feeling depressed myself. Maybe it wouldn't hurt. “Okay, I'll be quick.”

  “We're not in a hurry,” she said, wagging her brows at Ethan's back. And here was the Melinda I knew so well. Her fascination with Ethan was going to get her killed one day. I hope she knew that.

  I had never stepped foot on a graveyard before, and that had to be something people found weird. But it was true. No one had died.

  I attempted not to wince as I passed several graves, avoiding from stepping on someone’s grave. I didn’t know what it was, but it just felt disrespectful. And if anyone decided to walk on my grave, I was going to haunt the fuck out of them.

  I released a breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding, and stopped in front of the freshly buried grave. There were still people around, but they were too busy to notice I was here. If I wanted to do this, I needed to do this now.

  I was never one to talk to the ground, unless I was directing it to the underworld. A lovely image of Geoff sparked in my head. He was looking up at me from the underworld, his middle finger raised. It was a rather amusing image, and I would gladly accept his way of showing his feelings for me. But it wasn’t realistic. Geoff was a good man. He doesn’t deserve to be sent down. If anything he deserves to be up in the sky, with those goody-goody-gum-drops that people love to worship.

  “So, I don't know how to do this properly,” I started. “I guess I should start by saying I'm sorry. I didn't think it would come to this, and I know you were a pretty great guy.” And then the words just started spilling out. “If I knew she was going to be there, I wouldn't have done that to you. I wouldn't have... you know—it was just, I did it for him. And right now, I'm feeling so guilty about this because I know how close you were to him, so it's like I just hurt him even more. I didn't mean to be the reason why. If I could take it back, I would, but I can't.”

  There was an ache in my chest, and I tried to push it down. The speech I had just said was everything I wish I didn’t have to say. I wish I didn’t do the things to him. He didn’t deserve anything I instigated. And, that made me so angry at myself.

  “If you could take what back?”

  I froze. A shiver ran up my spine as goose bumps surrounded my skin. I was stuck in my frozen state, wincing at his voice echoing in my head. How long had he been standing there? Why didn’t I realize he was there? I was so engrossed in my speech that I completely forgot there were people still here.

  Especially the one behind me.

  Tristan stood a few feet away as I turned, his hands pocketed in a pair of black slacks while his eyes flicked from me to the grave, then back to me.

  “Maya, what did you do?”

  Seventeen – Taste Of My Own Medicine

  Cougar Town was having a marathon today, and much to Tristan’s dismay, that was what we were doing.

  “Would you ever fuck a cougar?” I asked, throwing a piece of popcorn in my mouth.

  Tristan dragged his eyes from the TV to me, arching a brow with curiosity. “Why would you ask that?”

  I shrugged, fingering another piece of popcorn. “I don't know I heard a lot of little boys like you would go for a woman who was like 40.”

  “Depends on the woman, really,” he said, taking the piece of popcorn between my fingers, popping it into his mouth before I could complain.

  Seriously though, the bowl is right there.

  I rolled my eyes and pulled my legs under me, resting my elbow on the back of the couch. “And what does this woman need to be for you to give up your dignity?”

  I was semi-glad that everyone had decided to go out tonight. Jamie had an assignment due in a few days so she had gone off to the library. Melinda had also gone out—except she was doing the complete opposite to what Jamie was doing. Noah was having a party at his and Tristan’s apartment tonight. I was going to go but I changed my mind at the last minute. I just couldn’t be fucked. Tristan ended up texting me, asking where I was, and once I told him I was at home, he made it his priority to come and be my entertainment. Just like friends do.

  Just… friends.

  “Well…” I could see him trying to fight a smile, and it only caused me
to fight one as well. He slid down the back of the couch until his head was at the same level as mine. “It's true that they say that an older woman is more experienced, I'm not going to deny. For me to show any woman my amazing bed skills,” I rolled my eyes. Is every guy conceited? “I'd have to get to know them.”

  “Bullshit.” That had to be the biggest lie ever. “I've seen you have your nights where you didn't even want to know the girls name, I remember you telling me and I quote 'If I find out this girls name, she's going to expect me to remember it and I'm just too drunk right now to even go there.'”

  Tristan let out a loud laugh at the memory. “Those were good nights too. It was lucky, because they never did give their names. I think they had the same thing in mind.”

  “You'll always be known as a one night stand for some chicks, Tristan,” I teased with a hint of sympathy.

  “Some chicks, yes, then there's the ones that always come back for more.” He flashed me a wide grin, and I had to admit he did get the ones that wanted to come back.

  “Don’t let your big ego get a hold of you, okay?” I said, pressing my finger in the midst of his brown hair before it stopped on his head. “You won’t be able to hold your head up soon.”

  I watched as his eyes moved up to mine, and I could feel what he was trying to do. He didn’t make a move to push my finger away from his head, neither did I to be honest. I could feel the silk, smooth texture of his strands as they glided over my finger.

  I just wanted to run my fingers through his hair, and keep them there. There was a short moment when my eyes started to lose themselves in his, and the urge to lean forward and taste the softness of his lips was tempting me.

  With a ragged breath, I moved my finger away, much to demons temptations. As if the finger was what started it, the trance that Tristan was starting to pull me into vanished. Not taking any of the fluttery feelings along with it.

  “What about you?”