Heart of the Incubus

by Rosalie Lario

  Cresso let go of her. He rubbed the back of his neck, the weary gesture catching her by complete surprise. It seemed so unlike his usual carefree nature that she didn’t know what to think.

  “That package.” He motioned toward the counter. “It’s for you.”

  “It is? From whom?”

  “Don’t know. Will says he found it by the door when he was doing his rounds.”

  Cresso picked up the box and handed it to her. When she saw her name scribbled on the plain brown wrapping, a ribbon of dread curled through her chest, winding its way down to the pit of her stomach. She knew that handwriting. Every time she saw it, she got hit with a major case of acid reflux.

  “Thanks.” Her voice sounded far away even to her own ears. She took the package from him and stared down at it, willing herself the strength to open it.

  Cresso must have read her discomfort because he shifted in place, sliding a hand into the pocket of his slacks. “I suppose I’ll leave you to it, then.”

  For the first time ever, she barely noticed him leaving. She set the box on the cold steel countertop and traced the wobbly letters on the smooth paper. Whoever had written them had dug in the pen so hard that it had left grooves in the wrapping. And how familiar those cursive scribbles had grown over the past several weeks. Letter upon letter, a total of six in her collection now. But never more than a single piece of paper. Never anything of this size before. And that made her really, really afraid.

  Come on, Gen. It’s just a package. It can’t kill you. Right?

  Once Cresso’s footsteps receded into the hallway, Genevieve took a fortifying breath. Hands shaking, she tore off the wrapping to reveal an indistinct shoebox underneath. Okay…okay. Maybe it was a new pair of shoes.

  Yeah, right. And maybe the yummy Dr. Taylor has all of a sudden decided to lose the harem of women who come sniffing around here, volunteering to be his lab rats.

  Not freaking likely.

  Oh hell, might as well get it over with. Willing her calm, clinical side to take over, she grabbed the box and lifted the lid. The cloying scent of formaldehyde drifted to her nose before she caught a glimpse of what was inside. When she saw what it was, she nearly jumped out of her skin. She dropped the shoebox and it thumped onto the polished concrete. The contents flew up, then plopped back into the box, landing in an eerily similar position to how they’d originally been placed.

  Genevieve didn’t even realize she’d screamed until Cresso came racing back into the room. He moved so fast he was nothing but a blur, materializing right in front of her. His hands closed around her arms, fingers digging in painfully.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She opened her mouth to tell him, but nothing came out.

  His mouth tightened and he examined her thoroughly, as if checking for cuts or chemical burns. “Dr. Russell, what is it?”

  “I…” Was it crazy that even now she noticed the heat of his hands on her? When he lifted a finger to gently press her glasses back onto her nose, her mind went blank.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Oh, right. The package.

  Not trusting herself to do anything more than blabber, Genevieve pointed to the shoebox on the ground by their feet. He saw what was inside it and released her with a muttered curse. Squatting, he pulled a pen out of the front pocket of his dress shirt and used it to push around the thing in the box.

  When his eyes met hers, unmistakable anger had darkened them into two glittering black pearls. “It’s a skinned rat.”

  “Ye-yes.”

  “Who gave this to you?”

  Genevieve shook her head, gagging at the sight of the poor mutilated animal. She covered her mouth with her hand. “I don’t know.”

  Cresso dropped his pen into the box and stood, waves of tension radiating off his body. His hands clenched into fists. “Okay, Genevieve, you need to tell me what the hell is going on here.”

  Chapter Two

  He was looking at a dead rat. A fucking skinned rat that someone had given to Genevieve.

  Cresso tamped down the rage that flowed through him, threatening to rush to the surface. Genevieve didn’t deserve to receive the brunt of his anger. No, he would save that for whatever psychopathic idiot thought he could get away with doing something like this.

  When Genevieve trembled in front of him, he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms. That would only piss her off. “Is this the first package you’ve received?”

  “I…no. I mean, yes.” She wrapped her arms around herself and took a shaky breath. “I’ve gotten a handful of letters over the past several weeks, but never anything like this before.”

  “Do you have the letters with you?”

  She nodded and headed for her desk on the opposite side of the room. The way her hands shook when she opened her drawer just about killed him. She retrieved a thin stack of cream-colored envelopes and then made her way back to him. “There are a total of six.”

  He accepted the bundle from her, doing his best to ignore the blaze of shivering desire that crept through his body when their fingers grazed. It had been a while since he’d fed, something he was all too aware of, given his close proximity to Genevieve. But she didn’t need him drooling over her. She needed to feel safe. He would concentrate on that.

  Cresso set the letters on the countertop next to her microscope. Genevieve’s name and the address of the laboratory had been etched in heavy cursive on each of the envelopes. There was no return address, but the time stamps marked the place of origination as London. The box itself hadn’t had an address or a stamp, just her name, so someone must have dropped it off in person. Which meant whoever had sent these was familiar with the area. Familiar with her.

  When Cresso slid the letters out of their envelopes, the worn creases indicated that Genevieve had read them more than once. The image of her perusing them over and over again hit him like a shot to the gut, especially when he saw what they contained. He read through the notes one by one, memorizing snippets from each.

  You’re so beautiful it hurts…I want you to stay young forever…Our love will last for all eternity… Like dewy rose petals…You belong to no other…Beauty forever preserved…

  Shock and disgust ate away at Cresso’s stomach like battery acid. He dropped the papers and whirled to face the door, lest Genevieve see the terror written on his face. There was no mistaking the theme threaded into these letters. The person who wrote them was obsessed with Genevieve’s youth and beauty. In conjunction with the message portrayed by the skinned rat, he feared what this person intended to do to her.

  There was no doubt about it: Genevieve Russell was being stalked by a psychopath.

  “Exactly how long have you been receiving these notes?” he asked.

  “A little over two weeks.” Her voice shook, but when he turned to observe her, she’d composed herself remarkably well. The only indicator of her continued unease was in her long, delicate fingers, which worried the sleeves of her lab coat.

  “You haven’t notified the authorities?”

  A light flush bloomed on her cheeks. “I thought the letters were just bluster. Besides, given what I do for a living, there’s no telling if the person who wrote this is human or…you know.”

  She had a point there. They couldn’t involve a human police force if there was a possibility the stalker was an Otherworlder. “You don’t know who might be writing them?”

  Her fingers shook when she smoothed down the front of her lab coat. “Not a clue.”

  “Perhaps one of your test subjects? Someone who’s paid you more attention than normal. Acted strangely around you.” Besides me, that is.

  Genevieve’s lips quirked upward, and he got the sense maybe she was thinking the exact same thing. But when she spoke all she said was, “No.”

  Cresso bent and picked up the box, slamming the lid over it to block Genevieve’s view of what lay inside. “Is there any indication that the person who wrote this knows where you live?”


  She shook her head. “No. All the correspondence has come straight here.”

  There was that, at least. “I’ll see what I can uncover about all this. In the meantime, don’t go anywhere outside of the premises without me.”

  Genevieve bristled. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  “I think you do. This is serious.”

  Her eyes flashed. “There’s no indication that this guy will do anything other than send scary packages. I’m not going to stop living my life over it. Besides, what makes you qualified to protect me? You’re a scientist, not a detective. Same as me.”

  Was she serious? “I’m a demon. I’m stronger and faster than you.” He could heal a damn sight quicker, too.

  Genevieve let out a harsh laugh. “You’re a sex demon. If I need someone humped to death, I’ll call you.”

  A brief flare of pain tugged at Cresso’s heart. He pulled away so she wouldn’t see the hurt in his eyes. The agony of knowing she thought so damn little of him melded with the humiliating realization that she had him pegged. That was his forte. He’d killed before, even if he hadn’t meant to do it. No wonder she couldn’t stand him. He wasn’t fit to scrape the gum off the bottom of her shoe.

  After a moment of silence, fabric rustled, and when Genevieve spoke again, her voice sounded closer to him. “Look, I’m sorry. I know you’re only trying to help. I’m…I’m just a little frustrated here.”

  Of course she was. She was also right. He had no place offering himself up as her protector. Nothing to bind him to her, other than the fact he loved her. But he could never tell her that.

  When Cresso turned back to her, she stared up at him through those wire-rimmed glasses of hers. Her expression was frank and, if he didn’t miss his guess, somewhat defensive. She was always on the defensive around him, no matter how much he tried to put her at ease.

  Hopeless. Wishing she would see him in another light was totally fucking hopeless.

  “Don’t mention it,” he said smoothly. “I know an Otherworlder detective, a shifter, who should be able to help you track down this guy. I’ll give him a call and explain what’s been happening. I’m sure he’ll be able to find your stalker in no time flat.”

  Something in her eyes softened. “I’d appreciate that.”

  “I’ll get rid of this for you.” He motioned toward the box in his hands.

  “Thank you.”

  With a curt nod, Cresso turned and left the room. Instead of heading to his laboratory, he took the lift back down to the lobby. He swept past Tom, who was now wielding a mop, and sought out the security guard. Will sat behind the desk, right where Cresso had left him minutes before.

  “Will, where did you find this box?” he asked.

  “Right outside there. Next to the bushes.” Will rose to his feet and headed to the main entrance, opening the door so he could point at the spot. Cresso stepped outside and looked where Will pointed—a patch of grass in front of a thicket of bushes that had been manicured into a rectangular hedge. He peered over the hedge but there was nothing more to see.

  “You have no clue who might have left it?”

  The bewildered-looking guard shook his head. “No.”

  “Aren’t there surveillance cameras outside this building?”

  “Yes, but they aren’t panoramic. There are blind spots in all of the corners, including this one.”

  Which meant that whoever had placed the box there knew about the camera system. It had to be someone who worked here.

  “How many employees know about the cameras’ blind spots?”

  Will scratched his head. “Just me and the company who installed the system, as far as I know.”

  Cresso stiffened and gave Will a thorough examination. That made the guard the number-one suspect, but why would he admit to knowing about the camera system if he’d been the one to put the box there?

  Cresso had known Will the entire three years he’d worked at Elcorp. While they weren’t the closest of friends, he didn’t think the guard was capable of stalking anyone. On the other hand, Cresso had suspected for some time that Will had a crush on Genevieve. What if Will’s crush had morphed into something sinister? Stranger things had been known to happen.

  “Then again,” Will said, “anyone who knew what to look for would quickly realize there are blind spots at the corners of the building.”

  Cresso stifled a groan. If that were the case, then he was back to suspecting everybody. He’d keep an eye on Will, though. Just in case.

  “Why do you ask?” Will eyed the package in Cresso’s hands. “What’s in the box?”

  He ignored Will’s question. “If you get any more strange packages for Dr. Russell, please let me know.”

  Will gave him a slow nod. “Okay.”

  Box in hand, Cresso headed back to his office. The compulsion to look in on Genevieve was almost overwhelming, but he fought it. The woman didn’t like him. Hovering over her like a lovesick puppy wouldn’t change that. But damn, he wanted to. The thought that someone was terrorizing his woman made him want to howl. Yes, he knew she wasn’t really his, but that didn’t change how he felt about her. It didn’t make him long to protect her any less.

  Shit, he hadn’t even noticed he was crushing the damn box.

  He set it down on his desk and took a seat, lifting his phone to dial the private detective he’d met last year. The guy was a wolf-shifter, and they were well known for being gifted trackers.

  “Mac here.”

  “Hey Mac, it’s Cresso. Listen, I’ve got a problem.” He relayed everything to the private detective. “I’ve got the box here. Maybe you’ll be able to catch a scent from it.”

  “No problem,” Mac said. “Soonest I can get over to take a look is tomorrow. I’m out of town until tonight.”

  The thought of having to hold onto the macabre gift for an entire day made the bile rise in Cresso’s throat, but there was nothing he could do about it. He gave Mac the directions to the lab. “See you tomorrow.”

  What next? Genevieve clearly didn’t want him involved, but he wasn’t about to do nothing. Like it or not, he was a part of this now.

  And nothing mattered more than keeping her safe.

  …

  For Genevieve, the day crept by with an amazing degree of slowness. It hadn’t helped that Cresso had shadowed her a good part of the afternoon. He’d tried to be cunning about it, but she’d caught the flash of his lab coat whenever she’d exited the restroom. On top of that, he’d eaten at the same exact times she did, even though she knew that as an incubus, he received his sustenance from sex and not food. For him, eating was totally unnecessary.

  The only thing worse than having a stalker on her trail was having a stalker and Cresso to deal with. The constant reminder of his presence had made her hands shaky and kept her legs weak all day. In sum, she’d gotten precious little work done.

  At close to eight in the evening, Genevieve finally got her break when one of Cresso’s test subjects showed up. After spotting the gorgeous succubus exiting the elevator, Genevieve waited ten minutes before leaving her lab and walking down the hall. She took a peek into the window of Cresso’s lab. He stood with his side to her, taking notes on a clipboard while the woman spoke to him. One lock of hair crept down over his eye and he absently brushed it away. The simple movement made her loins clench in a burst of desire. Why did he insist on keeping his hair unfashionably long? He must be pushing it out of his eyes all day. Part of her secretly thrilled over it, though. So wild and silky. She could just imagine running her fingers through it, tugging him down for a soul-melting kiss.

  Apparently the succubus was of the same mind, because she reached out and mischievously trailed her fingers down the front of his shirt. Cresso frowned and stepped away, not even pausing to look up.

  Genevieve’s bubble of fantasies burst, sending her crashing back to earth. What was she doing, standing here mooning over him? She forced herself to move away from the window. There wouldn’t be a bett
er time to give him the slip than now.

  She hurried back to her lab and grabbed the day’s research notes so she could go over them at home. A sharp rap on the door made her jump. A moment later, the door opened and Dr. Benedict poked his head in. The elderly man worked as a biologist, and they often exchanged data for projects they were working on. Something about the way he watched her—as if his eyes tracked her every movement—always put her on edge. But then she supposed that might be inherent in his genes. One of their coworkers had once told her that he was a snake-shifter.

  “Good evening, dear.”

  Dr. Benedict entered her lab and gave her an oily smile. She resisted a shudder. The man even had a serpentine shape to his head, and he constantly flicked his tongue against his lips. Either he was hitting on her, or he couldn’t help himself. She chose to believe the latter, because the former would be far too icky.

  Genevieve reached for her purse. “Hello, Dr. Benedict. Can I help you?”

  He approached her workstation. “Leaving so soon?”

  When he came so close that he invaded her comfort zone—something he had a bad habit of doing—she took an uneasy step backward. “Well, it is getting late.”

  He stopped short and examined her. “Do you think you might be coming down with something, dear? Your face is looking rather flushed.”

  No, it’s just that you’re totally creeping me out.

  Since she didn’t really want to advertise that bit of news, she said, “I feel fine. Just a little tired.”

  “I wanted to show you some of the data from my latest project.” He held up the clipboard in his hand. “But since you’re on your way out, I’ll leave it for later.”

  “Thanks.” She wanted to get out of here while Cresso was still occupied.

  Dr. Benedict nodded and walked toward the door, but he paused right in front of the exit to give her another once-over. “Do be sure to bundle up. You wouldn’t want the wind to chafe that gorgeous skin of yours.”

  Weird, why would he mention her skin? But she forced herself to shrug off the feeling of unease. It was Dr. Benedict she was talking about. The man was a gifted scientist. He couldn’t be her stalker.