Incubus

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Incubus Page 3

by Janet Elizabeth Jones


  The coaxing, big hand tangled in her hair, and the warmth of his body beneath her lured her into the balmy shadows.

  Just before sleep claimed her, she thought she heard a raspy murmur, British, sexy and very male. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 2

  Meical Grabian managed a smile when the girl nuzzled against his chest hair, but when she nestled her soft body closer, it raked open a hole inside of him. His unclothed flesh felt every inch of her. Her closeness dulled his appetite a little, but it wouldn’t stave off the inevitable.

  Something about this woman was special, something he couldn’t identify. She had felt his need out there in the cold darkness, felt his very soul reaching for hers. Was that why the Alchemist had left him close enough to call to her?

  The Alchemist. Meical curled his lip to snarl, but without the three-quarter-inch fangs he was used to wielding, the effect was rather pathetic. He ran his tongue over his smooth, straight teeth and hissed.

  Where was his maniacal creator? He focused his bleary eyes on the confines of the cabin. No sign of the hell-bat. The great Alchemist, Benemerut Neshi himself, had abandoned him.

  Something must have gone wrong, and Neshi had reckoned he wasn’t worth saving. Or, perhaps, he couldn’t be saved.

  Best to face facts. His strength was waning like the hours of the night. Every nerve in his body told him he had less than two hours until his first dawn in two centuries. It would be his last. All he wanted was to survive long enough to see it.

  And here in his arms lay his portal to the sun.

  He ran his hand over the woman’s shoulder. His palm tingled from the softness of her burgundy flannel shirt. He swept his hand lower, down her narrow back and over her round bottom, feeling his way downward to the thigh of one supple leg, until he came to—nothing.

  The leg of her jeans was empty below her knee.

  He gently palmed the joint beneath the denim. Even in her sleep, she flinched when he touched her there.

  “Not that I’m going soft,” he breathed into her hair.

  Hunger twisted his muscles into knots, and he savored the taste of her creamy, soft ear. She moaned in her sleep. The sound filled him with need, and on sheer instinct, he kissed her mouth quickly.

  A pool of energy radiated from her into him. With a growl, Meical lapped up the nutritious tease without really knowing how he did it. The girl moaned again and moved against him. He groaned, harder and hotter than he could ever remember, nearing a desperation he’d never experienced as a vampire. No, he’d never felt hunger like this before. It made him feel capable of doing anything to satisfy it.

  Slow down. Slow down. He ground his teeth together, fisted his hands in agony and grappled with his self-control.

  Quiet filled the room. The snapping fire and the whistling wind were the only sounds to be heard, besides the girl’s soft, sighing breaths. She whimpered something in her sleep, and across the room, a growl caught Meical’s attention. The dog, of course.

  He sighed and focused his thoughts on the shepherd. She kept her distance but bared her teeth. His probing mind met with a barrage of canine angst and territorial zeal, along with an image of his ankle caught in her salivating jaws.

  Meical grinned, in spite of his pain. Good dog. But what you really want to do is go to sleep. I need your lady’s undivided attention right now.

  For a moment the dog eyed him, then with a yawn, rolled onto her side and slept.

  Meical looked at the girl in his arms. His last feed. He ought to have a really close look at her, just to commemorate the moment. She was a pretty vision to take with him, wherever he was bound.

  “What do you say, sweet?” he murmured. “Send me off to my death with nothing on my mind but you.”

  He smoothed her ash blond bangs out of her eyes and filled both of his hands with her thick short curls. Her mouth was painfully tempting, rather pouty at present, full and ripe from his kiss. Her high cheekbones suggested integrity and character. She was probably a force to be reckoned with when she was mad. Her delicate, flyaway eyebrows made her look perpetually amused with the world, even though she’d obviously had little to laugh at lately.

  Meical kissed her again, gently, savoring her waking response. It must be an automatic reaction in his prey to what he was now—whatever that was. Kiss your prey, and she wants more. Simple and straightforward.

  So what had gone wrong with the Alchemist’s experiment?

  Meical kissed her again, and then he did what he had done on a thousand nights as a vampire. He reached for her inner being, and with a thrust of his will, took possession of her soul.

  Sweet, merciful heaven, this lady was a fountain of fire. But sadness had turned her cold and still inside. He sucked in a breath between his teeth. She needed to be touched, needed to trust again, but she was afraid of losing herself.

  Primal terror haunted a cavern in her soul. She kept a close guard on that place. Even now, her soul rebelled against his invasion. He shouldn’t pry. The least he could do was leave her privacy intact. But he just had to know. What was she so afraid of? He struck deep.

  The violence of what her attackers had done to her played itself out before him in vicious clarity. Metal baseball bats rose in the darkness and descended, over and over again. He could hear her legs shatter, hear her scream.

  Suddenly, the memory grew dark and fuzzy, and then Meical watched as though through a haze. The girl was only semiconscious now. Her attackers moved in for the kill.

  Wait. She shouldn’t be able to remember any of this, not in her condition. And if she couldn’t remember it, there was no memory for him to see. So he shouldn’t be seeing this at all.

  Yet he did see it, and as her attackers closed in on her, rage shook him, and he sounded a menacing growl.

  The two men spun around to look at him.

  For seconds Meical forgot to breathe, while the two human faces before him contorted with mute terror. They dropped their bats and scrambled out of the cellar as fast as they could.

  Meical was drawn along like a balloon on a string in their wake, as though he were chasing them. Just as he hit the top of the stairs, his strength wavered and drained away, and he couldn’t hold the image in his mind.

  Darkness descended, and he opened his eyes to see the rustic cabin ceiling above him.

  With a curse, he slid the woman off him, weary and hurting. In his condition, there was no telling what kind of confusion he was suffering from. It hardly mattered because there was no way on God’s green earth he was going to make use of this girl. He couldn’t.

  He would leave. Just go. He’d put this feast far behind him. Maybe he’d last long enough without sustenance.

  He made an effort to get to his feet. Half an hour later, he was still trying. His strength had deserted him, and in its place he felt a fire in every muscle and nerve, as though his hunger would tear his flesh from his very bones. He’d never suffered like this as a vampire, even on the leanest nights. But dawn was coming. He could feel it in his flesh. If he could just hang on.

  The girl stirred beside him. His heart pounded like a piston in his chest, and he wrapped his hand around hers. A trickle of her life force flowed into him, a pitiable tease that served only to torture him.

  “Do us both a favor, baby,” he gasped. “Don’t wake up.”

  He moaned again, and as if in answer, she rolled over, laid her good leg over his thighs and wrapped her arm around him. Her soft, sleepy breath against his chest felt so soothing, as soothing as her need to be held.

  A throb in his chest shut off his next breath, and he gasped, choked and writhed. Fear consumed him. He wasn’t going to make it until sunrise. To come so close and die without seeing it…. He couldn’t bear that.

  Meical fixed his gaze on the woman’s face and closed the door on his good intentions. Levering his arm underneath her, he lifted her onto him again. When her chin rested on his chest, a momentary smile touched her mouth.

  He cupped her face i
n his hands, breathing hard. He was too weak now to reach for her mind, so he spoke to her aloud, trying to keep his voice low and gentle. “Wake up. Please?”

  She fluttered her lush dark lashes. When she opened her eyes, they were too dilated for him to see what color they were. Beneath her confusion, he sensed her struggling against the compulsion he had saddled on her, yet her unleashed hunger poured over him like warm cream. Hunger for him, as though it were her natural need.

  Her husky, breathless voice touched him everywhere. “Oh…you’re awake…”

  Awake? Meical winced. He was as hard as— “Yes. Very.”

  Her gaze fell to his mouth, and a sigh escaped her. Her face turned white, then red, then white again. She looked down at his bare chest. “What’s happening to me?”

  “It’s all right.” He caressed her face. She shivered all over him. “I’m the guy you saved. Do you remember? I feel what you feel, and you feel what I feel.”

  She nodded. “You’re an empath. Like me.”

  If it made things easier for her, why not let her believe it? It wasn’t entirely untrue. He settled for half a truth, unable to out-and-out lie to her—which bothered him. “Yes, I am. Sort of. It’s okay. This is only a dream. You’re safe.”

  They locked gazes. She seemed to revive a little be cause even though her eyes said she wanted him desperately, her frown said she didn’t trust his words.

  “No,” she murmured. “I’m awake. I can tell. What’s going on? What are you…what are you doing to me?”

  “What’s your name?”

  Her gaze darted away. “Caroline.”

  Sweet. A name fit for a Yorkshire girl. “Just Caroline?”

  She nodded. When she looked at him again, the softness had gone from her eyes, leaving only caution. It put his teeth on edge. So, it was en garde, was it?

  He might have just enough strength to finesse her through this. If it came down to a tussle, it would be costly for both of them. He absolutely must not lose control. He ran his hand over the crown of her head and down her back, opening himself up to her completely. Almost without trying, he poured himself into the caress.

  She gasped and jerked, but he held her. Exquisite.

  “I’m Meical Grabian,” he whispered. “And you, Caroline, are mine.”

  Her throat worked convulsively to swallow, while her eyes gleamed, then darkened. As he lowered the mantle of his power over her, the last of her resistance faded. The rush of her arousal snatched his breath away.

  He kissed her mouth slowly, then deeply, and held her while she came off her ruddy hinges. Her hands opened and closed on his chest, while her body ground against his.

  Meical groaned when the first flush of strength and power surged through him. For a moment, he drifted into mindless bliss. He felt no pain. Only power. By the time he realized it wasn’t his arousal, but hers, that brought him relief, she was mouthing her way downward along his abdomen.

  He laughed softly, shuddering over the irony of it. It was his prey’s pleasure that fed him, not his own. Oh, yesss….

  He caught her face in his hands and stilled her searching mouth. She whimpered and undulated down ward, closer to her goal.

  “Caroline,” he whispered, “I have a better idea.”

  Lifting her head, she blinked her big, sleepy eyes at him, panting softly.

  “Come here.”

  She rose and wobbled into his arms, flush-faced and beautiful. His prey. His.

  While he gathered her in one arm and unzipped her jeans, he focused all his will on her. He slipped his hand inside her panties and hissed out a breath. So warm and wet. Her breaths came in soft gasps while he gently parted her with his fingers and stroked her slowly.

  Tears welled up in her eyes. Meical watched them roll slowly down her cheeks. Why was she crying? She was too deep in his trance to be frightened, and by her body’s response, he knew she was enjoying this. She moved for him as though she had been made for his touch.

  He nuzzled her temple and reveled in the nourishing heat of her rising need. “Why are you crying?”

  Her gasped answer followed every shudder of her flesh beneath his hand. “It’s been so long…”

  Meical grimaced. “Don’t let what they did to you take away who you are.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Meical pressed his mouth against her ear. “You are strong. You are powerful. I feel it inside you. All the strength you need is there, Caroline. Inside you. You will overcome this time in your life. And when you do, you will be more beautiful and powerful than ever before, in the way all humans are when they’ve gone through hell and survived it.”

  He looked into her half-closed eyes, hoping she’d heard every word. He couldn’t let her remember much of this when she woke, but he didn’t want her to forget what he’d just told her. “You’ll sleep for a while after this, and when you wake, there will be no pain in your leg. I would like to do more for you, but I…I’m headed elsewhere. I think it’s best you don’t remember me. But I want you to remember how strong and beautiful you are, Caroline. I don’t ever want you to forget it.”

  She nodded compliantly. Hunger shone in her eyes now. No more tears. Meical rose up on his elbow and kissed her until they both moaned. Opening himself up completely, he swallowed down her pleasure and turned it back on her. Sweet madness.

  She filled her hands with his hair and kissed him feverishly while he caressed her, until with a high, keening cry, she spilled the very essence of her life force into his soul. Raw power snapped through Meical’s body, through every nerve and vein. He clutched her closer to anchor himself in the fury, glutting himself in her pleasure with a hellish growl he couldn’t help. For a few precious seconds, he wanted to go on existing, to drink up this beautiful human being whenever, however and wherever he pleased. Never had he felt so horribly powerful.

  How could Neshi have failed? What could possibly have gone wrong? It all seemed so perfect, so easy.

  When Caroline fell still, Meical basked in her afterglow as though it were his own. He closed his eyes and listened to her breathe. Her soft sighs made him want to begin again.

  He drew a deep breath and stood up. He no longer felt weak. Warmth and strength surged through him. Blood was a pale shadow by comparison. This satiation went deeper.

  He righted Caroline’s clothing and smoothed her hair, letting his hand linger on her face. Did she have family or friends living nearby? Someone who could help her when she needed it?

  “Not that I care,” he murmured, covering her with a blanket and tucking it close around her. “And that’s best for you because believe me, baby, you wouldn’t want me around if you knew what I am.”

  The dog woke again and watched him with soulful eyes while he gathered his clothing from the chair before the fire. He grinned at the shepherd. “You are one lucky dog to belong to this lady. You know that, right? Better take good care of her.”

  He pulled on his jeans, but zipping them up was another matter. Meical looked down at himself and whistled softly. “Neshi, my man, never let it be said that you aren’t a perfectionist.”

  Meical grinned and zipped up his jeans—carefully—and finished dressing. Without warning, he shivered. It was a familiar feeling.

  Dawn.

  The sensation stole over his spine like pinpricks. Soon every soul he knew would be wrapped in the deep sleep of the vampire. But this time, the day-death would pass him by.

  He went to the door of the cabin, opened it and stared at the night sky. There was a bit of light blue toward the east. He slipped out the door and fixed his gaze on it, drank it down.

  There was pink. Rosy pink. Only hours ago, it would’ve been enough to kill him. Neshi’s experiment hadn’t been a complete failure.

  Meical bounded into the yard and skidded to a halt in the snow. His heart thudded in his chest, while the pink became orange. Beautiful fiery red came next, but it was the gold he wanted to see, the bright, gold-white light of a new day, full in his face
until it blinded him and burned its way into his memory forever. He’d take it with him wherever he was bound.

  Defiant, he shot into the air. Birds in the trees took flight around him. The wild things ran for cover.

  Higher. Higher. It was brighter now. So bright. Too bright. Oh, yes! Nearly there. Nearly sunrise. He let the fragile warmth engulf him, felt it all the way to his soul. His face, his head, his entire body were warm in a way he hadn’t felt in two centuries.

  The ball of fire and life topped the horizon and blasted away all the night, all the darkness, all the pain and isolation. Meical flung back his head and let his exultation fill the world below. “Neshi, you are a GENIUS!”

  Closing his eyes, he basked in the golden glow that touched every inch of him. The sun rose higher, while he hung suspended in its light.

  Voices echoed up to him from the woods far below. He ignored them. He wanted only the silence and the light, clean and pure and unending.

  The voices became clearer, and the smell of human males tainted his serenity. Meical growled and turned his head to look down. It was just a pack of hikers, laughing as they slogged along the trail that passed Caroline’s cabin. They were harmless, pleasant enough fellows.

  So why did he have the urge to rip their heads off?

  The contentment of the moment paled as Meical hung lazily in a sunbeam and eyed their progress closer to Caroline’s home. As they trudged along, their heavy, sweating bodies made crunching noises in the snow with every step they took. Even that bothered him.

  Surely they weren’t foolish enough to come so close to Caroline, to encroach on what was his. Never mind that he wasn’t going to be around much longer. While he was still breathing, she was his to protect.

  With another glance at the sun, Meical dropped out of the sky and landed soundlessly in the woods. Seconds of icy wind in his face and an easy burst of speed brought him to Caroline’s porch. He slunk into a pool of shadow the sunlight couldn’t reach and dissolved to watch the intruders.

  As the hikers reached the cabin, one of them made the mistake of stopping to admire it. Meical scarcely felt himself move. He materialized and stepped from the shadows of the porch, into the yard. Judging by the guy’s change of expression, he must look like the devil’s own. The men hurried on, casting nervous glances over their shoulders at him.

 

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