Incubus Master: Complete (Yaoi)

by Yamila Abraham

  Jinady’s heart was racing.

  “I was so pissed by then. I kept swearing I’d tell on him the whole time he nailed me. Figaru caught him. So fucking humiliating. He must have wondered where Scor went two nights in a row. He broke in while he was on top of me.”

  “Dear God.”

  Eban sighed. “Scor jumped off me and knelt on the floor to beg at Figaru’s feet. ‘Please don’t kill me, master.’

  Scor called Figaru master?

  I asked for Figaru to spare the idiot.”

  “What did Figaru do to him?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t see him again for months. The next time we passed each other in the settlement he asked me to forgive him. No one was watching. It seemed sincere.”

  “Damn,” Jinady said.

  “Still don’t want me to tell?”

  “Don’t. Let me deal with it. Please.”

  Eban sat up and grabbed his pants. “Have it your way.”

  Chapter 6

  In the morning Scor didn’t transform. He and Figaru carried the wagon’s poles. Jinady walked with Eban. The women rode in the main cab. The pace was slower than before.

  “We’re going to get near the border soon,” Eban said.

  Jinady didn’t understand why that meant Scor couldn’t pull the wagon. He was tense. He didn’t want to talk.

  “First notch,” Major announced.

  They walked by a tree with a deep gash across the trunk. A half hour later Major shouted again. “Second notch.” They stopped, bracing the poles.

  Scor sat under the tree with two deep gashes on it. Major got the women out of the wagon. Figaru, Major, Huckly, Eban, Jinady, Cecil and her mother continued down the wooded road on foot. Jinady looked back at Scor.

  “See you, kid.” He waved at Jinady.

  Huckly mistook the gesture for him and waved back. Jinady swallowed. He clasped his hands as they walked. Scor and the wagon disappeared far behind them.

  “There,” Major said.

  Jinady could see it. A tree with three gashes lining the road a short distance ahead of them. Everyone stopped. Major went to the women.

  “I’ll be your escort from here on, ladies.” They went ahead.

  Figaru stayed back with the men. Jinady stared at him. He felt like crying. Figaru’s broad chest rose and fell in a deep sigh. He turned to Jinady. Eban and Huckly went to the other side of the road. Jinady eyed them. By giving Figaru and him privacy the added gravity to the situation.

  “Huckly and Eban will take you to the settlement,” Figaru said. “I can’t go further until the swan shard is covered.”

  Will I see you again? No. He wouldn’t let himself ask it. He fought desperately for his composure. He bowed his head in order to hide the sadness in his face.

  Figaru lifted Jinady’s face with two fingers below his chin. Jinady chewed the inside of his mouth. Tears fell down his cheeks. How could he escape this moment?

  “Please consider joining the army.”

  Isn’t there another way? “I’m not a fighter.”

  “Not everyone in the army fights.”

  Bile rose in the back of Jinady’s throat. He appreciated a distraction to his anguish. “I’d never be like Huckly.”

  Figaru was calm. “I’m grateful for that, Jinady. That’s not what I meant.”

  He pushed his hand into Jinady’s hair. Jinady closed his eyes. A tear spilled. “I kind of want…want to…” His voice cracked. He stopped.

  Figaru moved his fingers through Jinady’s hair from his forehead to the base of his skull. He bestowed a languorous touch before slipping his fingers through again. Jinady focused on the magic of his hand. He craved this touch. It was soothing, tingly bliss.

  Figaru’s huge form was foreboding. Jinady sensed that Figaru wanted him. He knew that Figaru’s will was insurmountable. Since Figaru had set his sights on Jinady, he would have him. However he wanted, for as long as he willed it. Any reservations Jinady might have would be crushed to oblivion. He couldn’t turn away.

  Jinady was certain he was going to lose control over his life. There would be no more choices he could make. He would belong to Figaru. It caused fear in the pit of his stomach. But then, the pull towards Figaru was so powerful. He was already enraptured. Only prolonged separation from the demon could free him.

  He was more frightened now to be free. What if he chose never to be near Figaru again?

  Figaru’s hand went from the base of Jinady’s skull to his back. He pulled Jinady against him. Sinuous dark arms closed Jinady into a firm embrace.

  No. I’ll never get away from him, now.

  Jinady’s cheek pressed against Figaru’s breast. He clung to him. The magical touch he’d felt in his scalp engulfed his entire body. He wanted this. It was warmth, comfort, and amalgamation. Figaru could make Jinady part of him with simply a hug. More tears came.

  The strength in Figaru’s hold gave little by little, until Jinady was able to separate from him. It was like walking against a wind storm for Jinady to step back. Every part of him that felt comfort and oneness split apart.

  It scared him that it took long moments for him to rediscover his individual worth. The strong spell Figaru cast caused Jinady to believe that succumbing to him was the only useful purpose he could have.

  “I want you to become acclimated with life in the settlement,” Figaru said softly. “Once you’re at peace, I’ll be looking for you.”

  “All right,” Jinady said. He didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t as though they’d confessed their love. He couldn’t encourage him to seek him out, but nor would he discourage it.

  “Deputy will know if we’ve encountered your fortress. We can see to it together.”

  A handy excuse. Jinady was still grateful. He’d made a date with him. This wouldn’t be goodbye.

  “Thank you.” He sniffed hard. He gradually came to his senses in the wake of Figaru’s touch. He no longer felt like weeping.

  He understood why Figaru couldn’t use an Available. It’s true what he’d said to Scor. Any mortal he connected with so profoundly would have to be his forever. He couldn’t be cavalier with such intense incubus magnetism.

  Figaru directed Jinady towards Huckly and Eban. They started walking. Jinady waved goodbye. Figaru stood staring at him. They crested a hill and he was out of sight.

  PART TWO

  Chapter 7

  It was dusk before Figaru reached the base. He was too large to easily fit in the wagon. He preferred to walk rather than be pulled by Scor. Evening guards greeted him as he passed. There seemed to be fewer than normal about.

  Yeoman, his ambitious young secretary, sat on a water barrel below dim lantern light with his arms folded. He watched Figaru approach with alert, red-rimmed eyes. He stood and kept pace with Figaru when he passed.

  “Welcome back.”

  “You didn’t have to wait for me, Yeoman.”

  “It’s better to tell you the bad news now rather than have to wake you from a hibernation.”

  Figaru halted. It would have been his custom to sleep for three or more days after such a long mission. He looked down at Yeoman. He was a thirty year-old scrawny man with a shaved head. He had pronounced wrinkles on his forehead when he was distressed.

  “Two shards went out in the southeast quadrant last night. Spikeys have been bombarding us.”

  Figaru stayed calm. He did not look down at Yeoman as he spoke. Spikeys were one of the lowest form of incubi. Even farmers could kill the spindly-legged demons.

  “Quince left with Shindra to the mountain. Everyone else has been securing the breach.”

  “What about the other mortal-born?”

  Yeoman pressed his lips together. “That’s…that’s why I was waiting for you, Lord Figaru.”

  Figaru was stricken. Had someone been killed? “Tell me.”

  “When Colonel learned the first shard went out he sent almost the whole force to guard the breach. The signal went up that the second shard was ou
t. No one was here to respond. Spikeys got into Sister City. The mortal-borns were the only soldiers here to protect them. They tried not to kill any, but they had no choice. Quince was the only one who stayed innocent since he’d already left on the mission.”

  Figaru closed his eyes. “Has anyone been hurt?”

  “No, Lord Figaru. We’ve just had most of our mortal-borns spoiled for shard gathering. We’re out two shards right now. Quince can only bring one back with him.”

  Figaru drew a languorous sigh. “Understood.” He turned leftward from the barrack.

  “Are you going to rest, Lord Figaru?”

  “Of course not.” He ran towards the southeast breach.

  Figaru rallied his incubus allies to build a barrier sufficient to keep out the spikeys. He left them to continue the work at dawn. Exhaustion was starting to dull his astuteness. He began the path to his home with heavy-lidded eyes. After a short while he realized he was heading in the wrong direction.

  Figaru stopped. He sensed the fading aura of a spikey inside the settlement. The creature had to be half-dead, yet he could sense it moving faster than its weakened state should have allowed.

  He sighed. This was something he shouldn’t have had to see to personally, but all his soldiers were occupied. He ran toward the source.

  He slowed down, quieting his step. The spikey’s aura was nearing a farm on the fringe of the settlement. There were clusters of uncleared wood around it. Figaru used his enhanced demon sight to spy a half-mile away. Through the trees, a dying spikey hung limp under the arm of a man.

  Rowan.

  Figaru halted. He looked away and clenched a fist. His fatigue had to be contributing to the anguish that welled in his breast. He continued following.

  Figaru willed himself not to be seen or heard, though his skill in this magic was limited. He could not have remained undetected if Rowan looked directly at him.

  He was a few yards away when Rowan emerged from his cover in the trees. The spikey was half dragging on the ground. The creatures resembled pitch black stick-bugs, but with a vaguely human shape. Their forms were too elongated and slim to pass as even the shadow of a human. They were twice as tall and their torsos had no more girth than a man’s forearm. Rowan was carrying a limp pile of floppy arms and legs.

  He knelt beside the three stone steps that led into the back of the house. He sat it upright and found the demon’s mouth. Rowan kissed it unceremoniously. He stayed connected until the incubus came alive again. Its spindly arms and legs closed around him. He carried it while it straddled him up the steps.

  Figaru emerged from the woods, no longer concerned if Rowan saw him.

  Rowan opened the back door and threw the demon in the house. He leapt from the steps and hit the ground running. He dashed toward the nearest wood.

  Figaru intercepted him with a slap across Rowan’s chest that sent him flying. He crashed shoulder first into a pile of kindling. Wood shattered and dust exploded.

  “Ahhh!”

  Rowan stayed crumpled in the heap as Figaru neared. He was bleeding and chattering his teeth.

  “Stay put,” Figaru said.

  Rowan looked away.

  Figaru dashed into the farm house. There was already commotion. A ten year-old boy was bashing the spikey with a broom and screaming for his father.

  Good. It’s still alive.

  Figaru approached the boy gingerly. He caught the broom pole as he lifted it. “Stop, child.”

  The boy looked over his shoulder. He was shocked, but not frightened. “Lord Figaru!”

  The father and older brother raced into the room. Figaru shot a thin line of fire at the spikey until it crumbled.

  “What—what on earth?”

  “I’m sorry for this,” Figaru said. “We lost a swan shard in the southeast. Some spikeys got in. This was the last one I was trailing.”

  The three expressed flustered adoration. The father hugged his youngest son from behind as they thanked Figaru.

  Figaru focused on the eldest son. “Please try your best not to kill a demon. Not even a spikey. Let your father do it.”

  The father was distressed. “M’lord, Gaven here’s not for the army. He’s paired with the neighbor’s son. We have seventeen acres. He could never, you know…”

  “Of course I understand,” Figaru said. “I wouldn’t draft him unless it was as a last resort. In that case I would never force him to take an incubus mate. He would have guardians with their own mates to escort him.” He paused. “Most of our mortal-borns lost their innocence by taking demon life today.”

  The father shook his head in dismay.

  “There will be a call for men to consider aiding us. I would make a draft as temporary and as convenient as possible if it came to that. There’s very few like your son left.”

  Gavin piped up. “Of course I’d help, you know, if I didn’t have to mate with one of the incubuses and if it were just for a while. I’d do my duty, you know. But after the harvest, you know? I mean, it’s harvest time.”

  Figaru squeezed Gavin’s shoulder. “You’re an honorable boy. Try not to concern yourself.”

  He exchanged the requisite amount of pleasantries before he left. Rowan was no longer on the kindling pile outside.

  Figaru found him leaning against a cypress tree a hundred yards away, out of breath and clutching his left shoulder with his right hand.

  Figaru stood above him. The pain and anger had returned to his chest. Rowan’s face was turned away from him. He was gasping hard, pausing only to swallow every minute or so. Figaru watched until his breathing stilled. Rowan would not look at him.

  “What am I supposed to do with you?” Figaru said.

  Rowan stopped breathing through his mouth. He pressed his lips together. His chin started to quiver. His expression was one of pure hatred as tears rolled down his face.

  It took arduous minutes before Rowan spoke. His words were choked. “Go away.”

  “What about your crime?” Figaru found his calm. It was somewhere deep below the haze of anguish. “Will you claim this was a prank? Are you friends with Gavin?”

  “Nope,” Rowan said. He bit his lip a moment. A fresh tear ran down the side of his face that Figaru could see. “Wasn’t a prank.”

  “Did you want my attention? You have it now.”

  Rowan squeezed his angry eyes closed. “God, no.” He scrubbed the wetness from his face with his good arm. His voice had gone whispery. “I want this whole village to go to Hell. You most of all.”

  “How selfish,” Figaru said.

  “Fuck you!”

  Figaru wondered if the farm was in earshot.

  “You’re the most selfish bastard who ever lived!” Rowan screamed. “I’m your fucking whipping boy! Your sick hobby! You won’t keep me, you won’t let me go—what do you expect me to do? Huh?”

  “As always you see things through a warped lens.”

  Rowan sniffed. “I don’t know what that means.”

  No, Figaru supposed not. No one in this land had eye glasses or telescopes. Emotion brought him back to his base mindset. His old accent even came out in a word or two. He steadied his temper with a sigh.

  “You’re not well,” Figaru said.

  “That’s your fault.”

  “I’m not speaking of your injuries.”

  Rowan darted his head towards him. He was venomous. “I know.”

  Figaru closed his eyes. The barb stung. He was in no state for this conversation.

  He propelled himself forward. One step, then another, by the third pace he was steadfast in his decision to leave Rowan there. There was so much unsaid, but he couldn’t get through to him in such a state. Getting through to him shouldn’t even be a consideration now. Rowan had just attempted something heinous.

  A day. He’d let himself sleep a day. He was more and more useless the longer he resisted rest.

  He had one more loathsome task. Where would Leatha be? Oh yes. The southeast boundary building the wall.
So far away. He felt defeated. There was scarcely any will left to drive him. He could have hibernated in the street just by sitting down.

  He went through the barracks, passing his home. It was the clearest path to the boundary.

  “Lord Figaru!”

  Figaru turned. Yeoman was on his doorstep. Thank God. He went to him.

  “Can you find a page for me?” Figaru said.

  “They’re all at the open borders. I’ll be your page, Lord Figaru.”

  “Find Leatha and tell her Rowan is injured in the woods near the farms on the northern fringe.”

  “Oh!”

  “If you can’t find Leatha then get Vandrel.”

  “My lord…was it you who injured Rowan?”

  Figaru eyed him. Yeoman was never nosy.

  “It was.”

  “Oh good!” Yeoman brought his hand to his chest and exhaled a sigh of relief. “Then you already know. I hate when I have to tell you bad news, especially with all this other mess.”

  Figaru’s posture shrank several inches. Rather than ask what Yeoman was speaking of, he wished to ask, ‘Can this news wait until after I’ve rested?’ He knew it was a fruitless thought. He couldn’t succumb to sleep without knowing.

  “What has Rowan done?”

  Yeoman frowned. “Well I—oh.” He drew a long breath. “When the first shard went out the men at the second tower saw the call and left their posts. The second shard didn’t burn out, Lord Figaru. Someone smashed it. Two schoolboys just came forward to say they saw Rowan running through the woods near there.”

  Figaru kept still. He heard Yeoman swallow.

  “Put Rowan in the stockade.”

  “Yes, my lord.” He retreated with his gaze on Figaru in case there were more commands.

  Figaru went inside. He closed the door behind him and collapsed.