by Sariah Skye
“How do you—” I rolled my eyes. “You peeper.”
He shrugged. “Hey, a guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.” Shaking my head, I laughed.
“You’ve got him,” Rhys whispered. “Toss your hair back over your shoulder.”
“Like this?” I said, grazing my fingers across my neck, and gently flicking it back. The mic he was singing into dropped, causing a literal feedback, and the crowd covered their ears; the spell broken.
I dared to glance out past the crowd, at the guys. Their faces were positively enraged, tight lipped and barely keeping a modicum of control. Slowly, they began stalking through the crowd, stopping just at the edge.
“We’re going to take a little break guys. We’ll be right back!” The singer said. A bandmate, one of the non-incubi switched the stereo back on and the room once again filled with loud music.
The jet-haired, dreamy-blue eyed hottie that reminded me a lot of Ian Somerhalder seductively drew a thumb over his fuller, lower lip as he approached me. He motioned to his friend to follow, the same predatory look in his eyes. If I wasn’t mistaken, his blue rimmed briefly with maroon. Yeah, he definitely noticed. “Hello there. If you don’t mind my saying so, you are incredibly sexy.”
“Play the part,” Rhys said quietly through clenched teeth.
Giggling with girlish coquettishness that made my inner-self want to vomit, I twirled a lock of my hair absentmindedly. “Thank you.”
“Are you two, like—” The brunette incubus asked, motioning between Rhys and me.
“Oh no, just friends.” Rhys flashed him a seductive smile. “I’m gay, so,” he just shrugged as if that should explain everything. I wanted to drill him if that was true but it’d blow our cover.
“So, you don’t have a boyfriend?” The black-haired one asked, gently swiping the tip of his tongue over his lip.
I could swear I heard a Scottish tirade of swear words behind me, but I ignored it. “I can honestly say I do not have a boyfriend,” I said, with a genuine laugh.
“Good.” He spread his lips into a wide, panty-melting smile. Or it would have been if I were a normal girl. “Can we get you a drink?”
“Sure.”
The brunette clasped my hand, and I actively tried not to shudder at how wrong it felt. The other tried shoving Rhys aside for my other, but Rhys held steadfast, smiling widely.
“The best stuff is over here,” the brunette flashed me a coy smile, and still holding tightly to Rhys, he led us through the crowd, down a slight hallway where he opened a door. I swallowed nervously, checking over my shoulder quickly to make sure the guys were following. They were, discreetly. Breathing a quick sigh of relief, I felt better about following.
“Where is this?” I asked, trying to hide my nervousness. Peeking inside the room was dark, and he led us inside. I threw desperate glance at Rhys, and he nodded firmly and resolutely. His grip was still tight; maybe it was even magically enforced but I was immensely glad for it. Reluctantly I followed the incubus in and prayed I wasn’t in over my head.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I jumped nervously as the door closed behind us. “Shit…” I muttered.
“Don’t worry, darlin’,” one of the incubi crooned with syrupy sweetness. A light flicked on, and I nearly groaned at the set up. A king-size bed with mismatched, plush bedding and plenty of pillows, random large cushions set about, a disco ball hanging overhead, and black light lamps perched on two various shelves. One had a drawer and a long row of new condoms hung out.
“Oh great, their shag shack,” Rhys said, wrinkling his nose. “How droll.”
“Oh it’s just where we relax, there’s no problem,” the black haired incubus said. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Dylan.” He held out his hand, and I reluctantly took it. I forced a smile as he brought it to his lips and dragged them across my knuckles. Boy he had a lot of work to do if he wants to be a successful, seductive incubus, I thought. But, I played the game; I smiled shyly.
The other incubus sidled up to me, trying to nudge Rhys away but he refused. “I’m Hunter,” he said, his eyes roving over my body and landing on my cleavage. “What’s your name?”
“Jordan.” I replied quickly; Summer and I often used fake names when out and about over the years when we didn’t want to have guys know our identities. I was always Jordan and she was Ashley.
“Jordan,” Hunter purred. He started to brush his fingers over my shoulder, down across my back. “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”
I glanced behind myself at the door. Where were the guys? With my free hand, I patted the handbag gently, reminding myself if I needed to, I could take care of things.
“Say, can we like, take you somewhere?” Dylan inquired, turning his attention to Rhys, upping the charm. Did incubi wiles work on gay men, I wondered? Hmm…
Rhys pretended it did. He grinned widely and reached out his hand to trace a finger down the center of Dylan’s chest. “I’m sorry, but she’s my best friend. Where she goes, I go. What she does, I do,” he said, lowering his gaze and speaking huskily. Dylan raised his eyes, clearly getting the hint. He glanced at Hunter briefly, and they both shrugged.
“Something new every day, right?” Hunter said, turning to me. “Well, Jordan. Since you don’t have a boyfriend, and you clearly are wanting attention, how about Dylan and me, you know…”
I wanted to gag, but I forced a smile; I hoped it looked genuine. He took a few steps towards me, backing me against the wall. I gasped slightly, suddenly taken back to last night. Why did I volunteer for this? I felt the panic start to swell inside. You’ve got this… you can take care of yourself.
Hunter placed his hand on my hip, and I tried to shrug away. No more pretending. “Thanks, but no.”
“Oh come on,” Hunter urged, as Dylan also closed in on me, sweeping his fingertips over my cheek, and Hunter’s hand skidded dangerously low down my leg; I twitched away, both before he realized I was sporting a weapon and also because well…he made me sick. “You know you want it.” I knew he was turning on the incubus charm, and that it should be working. He looked momentarily confused.
A loud bang made them jump and the door burst open, revealing an explosion of yellow mist and sparkles. Bash was the first to barge in, followed by Xander and Trystan close behind.
“Get the fuck away from our girl,” he growled, and all three of them drew weapons.
“Come on, we’re just having—” Dylan protested, but Xander caught my eye. I must have looked panicked because he motioned at Rhys.
“Rhys. Do it.” He commanded.
“You got it. Brace yourself, hun!” Rhys clamped on my hand and before I could comprehend what was going on, in the blink of an eye we found ourselves far away from the frat house. Judging by the dull roar of the noise, about a couple of blocks away.
Feeling momentarily dizzy, I kneaded my forehead with my fingers, encouraging my vision to return.
“You okay?” Rhys said, and I nodded. “It’ll take a couple of jumps, but you’ll be home in no time.” I smiled thankfully, if woozily, and he clamped down again and we were whisked away, far away from the incubi, the party, and the guys.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Trystan
I was eternally thankful to Xander for keeping a cool head, because I was about to fucking blow; her bonnie face was panicked just like last night. I don’t know what possessed her to do this. I don’t know what possessed us to let her, except Ava was a force to be reckoned with. When she got it into her mind to do something, it was best to just stand back, watch the shit fly, and be there with a crap bag to clean up afterwards. You either stand beside her, or get left behind.
Xander noticed her discomfort immediately and barked for Rhys to take her away and in a flash, she was gone.
And now, I was about to kick some piece-of-shit incubi ass. The bloody deviants had locked the door, with a spell. A spell. Probably given to them by Morgaine, that right damn horrid bitch. But as usual, Ba
sh was more than prepared and ready with a potion to knock the spell away. The arseholes looked confused as hell when Ava was transported away from them, leaving them alone in the same room…
With us. I laughed the evilest of fucking internal laughs at the sudden panic on their faces.
Freshly-cursed incubi were the worst; just like fucking teenagers, driven only by hormones and their infinitely tiny peckers. Not that aged incubi weren’t, but we could be a little bit more discerning with our conquests.
My shirt hid a rather jagged, nasty looking shiv. I was quite proud of it, having ripped it off a particularly nasty fae about forty years ago. I pulled it out of a holster strapped to my chest, and waved it in front of me, grinning evilly. It was edged in a nasty green poison that really hurt like a sonofabitch when stabbed.
“Dude. We didn’t mean anything by it,” the darkest haired incubus with the skeevy, creepy blue eyes spoke up first, holding his palms up in a gesture of fucking pathetic surrender. I grinned cruelly; they were intimidated by Xander and Bash—really they should have probably been more afraid of them than me—but since I was just straight up bigger, they were especially wary of me. Good. The air around them permeated with the stench of fear; it smelled something like moldy showers and white, firm dog shite. Don’t ask me how I knew that, either. Oh, mixed with weeks-old gym socks.
Sometimes being an eagle shifter sucked the proverbial balls. I snorted to myself, thinking how they’d shite their pants watching me shift into a bloody bird and peck their eyes out. But I’d save that for a last resort.
“You really should think twice before you go making the moves on someone else’s woman,” Xander glowered, his voice as stormy as his magic.
“We didn’t know Jordan belonged to you!” The shorter one protested. “Wait… which one of you—”
“—all of us, asshole.” Bash growled with menace.
“Who is Jordan?” I mouthed silently, and I realized Ava probably didn’t give her real name. Smart.
Xander also packed a small stunner in one hand that looked more menacing than it probably was, and his other was hand open at his side; jolts of blue and white electricity dripping from it.
“The fuck? What are you?” The other, slightly shorter—but equally as big of an arsehole—incubus’ eyes shaded yellow. I chuckled to myself, exchanging sidelong glances with the others. The fuckers were still so new they couldn’t even properly shade their eyes.
“Yer worst fucking nightmare, arseholes.”
Balls, that was cliché as hell, but I was going for an effect. A piss your pants, shit bricks effect. It worked, because the two of them tried scrambling for the door, but with a quick clothesline of my arm, they were knocked backwards on their arses. What I lacked in magic, I made up for in brute strength. I was no Mathias, but I could definitely hold my own. Especially against these two wankers.
“Now,” I said, bending over the nearest one, pulling him into a headlock under my arm, and pressing the edge of the poisoned blade against his throat. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head, flashing a pale yellow, so light they were almost white. Xander deftly flung a bolt of lightning at the other—the dark haired skeeve—and with a deft spin, he had the other’s arms pinned against his back. Bash cocked his own stunner and pointed it directly at his head. This was too easy. “Yer gonna answer some questions. And if we’re satisfied with yer answers, we’ll let ye go.”
“With provisions, of course,” Bash said, glaring them both down with that steel-eyed stare. Say what you wanted, he might be just a hair smaller than the rest of us, but the man was terrifying when he was pissed.
“You got it, man.” The fucker in my vice grip trembled violently.
“Good. Now, who was the woman who cursed ye? Did she say her name?” I demanded.
He shook his head quickly. “No! She didn’t. She only said that if we’d do her a few favors, she’d make it worth our while in the end.”
Bash snorted. “And you didn’t bother to ask what those few ‘favors’ were?”
“Hey man, she just said, ‘I can make you irresistible to women’ and ‘anyone you want, you can have’,” the incubus said. “All you have to do is come back to see me every week and I’ll take what I need and reward you.”
“Dude, she gave us like, a thousand bucks,” the other incubus in Xander’s grip said, with a laugh. “Just to sleep with a bunch of hot chicks.”
“Were you aware, dumbass, that after you slept with those chicks you left them confused and heartbroken? Do you have any idea what it is you did?!” Xander tightened his grasp, making the incubus squirm.
“So what? They’ll get over it,” my incubus blurted.
“Wrong answer.” I flexed my arm, cutting off his circulation until he started to turn blue. He struggled and writhed. “Ye did a lot more than break their hearts. Ye potentially ruined them for love ever again, ye bloody stupid arseholes.” I released my grip slightly and he choked for breath. Served him right.
“You were cursed. By a fucking witch. You realize that, right? And you’ll be living with this for the rest of your lives,” Bash said, glowering.
“Which won’t be long if we have anything to say about it,” Xander said.
“Witch? That’s fucking insane!”
“Really?” Xander retorted blandly. His eyes were electric; you could almost see the storm clouds roiling in them as he flicked a hand to the side, shouted something in Chinese—I could never figure out what he was saying half the time, damn him and his bloody stupid accent—and a flash of lightning streaked from his hand. He lifted it, and it darted around the room before he cut it off. “You want to change your mind on that?” Both of the incubi were wide-eyed; stunned stupid.
I sighed with irritation. “So, what did this woman do to you when you saw her last?”
“And when was it?” Bash demanded.
“Last night. She just touched our chests, got a big grin on her face, and that was it. She handed us the cash and sent us on our way,” my incubus said.
Flinching in disbelief, I glanced secretly at Bash and Xander. That sounded nothing like Morgaine’s process of draining us. Usually with her, it involved a circle of witches, a bunch of potions and crystals and long, drawn out ordeal.
“You said she was dark-haired, right?” Xander questioned. The incubus in his grip nodded.
“Yeah, dark haired and fucking hot.”
I frowned. “Eh, laddie, I think you and I have a very different definition of that word.”
“Dude, no… she was this pretty thing with big boobs and a small waist. She looked like she was from like, the Middle East somewhere maybe. Or Asia,” Xander’s incubus said.
“That…” Bash scratched his head. He slipped the stunner through one of his belt loops and pulled out his cell phone. Flipping through quickly, he landed on a photo of Morgaine. “I used it long ago to help A—Jordan—find her dad.” He turned it around and showed it to the incubi. “Is this her?”
The dark haired one wrinkled his nose. “No way, that chick is old.”
“She could be glamoured,” Xander offered.
Bash drummed his fingers against the phone display thoughtfully, and he started flipping the phone again. “What about her?” he revealed another photo, showing the other incubus first.
“Yes! That’s her!”
Bash’s expression was… menacing.
“Och, man, tell me!” I insisted.
“You ready for this?” He flipped the phone around, and I about loosed my grip on the arsehole incubus.
It was a photo of Lachlan’s supposed girlfriend. Nadina.
The fucking witch was Nadina.
“I was… not expecting that.” Xander stammered.
“How did you get that photo?” I inquired. Seemed strange, but that was Bash.
“I swiped Lachlan’s phone from the house after he… you know. I downloaded a bunch of shit from it to mine; just trying to piece things together. There wasn’t anything helpful on it but
now… I’m glad I did it.” Bash shoved the phone back into his pocket, and gave me an expectant look of now what?
I grumbled. Tightening up the grip again of the incubus, I glowered at him. “Listen, this is what is going to happen. And if ye do right, ye’ll be fine. If not, we will kill ye, and don’t think we’ll hesitate for a second.”
“I believe you!” He squirmed.
“Good. Now, do ye have a cell phone?”
“Yeah.”
“Give it to him,” I said pointing at Bash. He obliged and tossed the phone awkwardly. Bash caught it with a swipe of his hand and started typing into the display.
“Uh, don’t look at the photos,” the incubus said, embarrassed.
Bash rolled his eyes. “Dude, incriminating photos are the least of your worries.” He typed into the display and showed me. I chuckled loudly, it said, “Your worst fucking nightmares” and Bash’s number underneath. He leaned over, and set the phone in the incubus’ t-shirt pocket, patting it with an evil grin on his face.
“If ye have any further contact with that woman, ye are to call us immediately. Not five minutes later, not five days. Immediately,” I demanded.
“Sure, you got it!” The incubus pleaded.
“Also, ye are not to sleep with women and take their essences. Which means, ye must stop before you fucking get off, and go jack off somewhere else,” I instructed firmly. My incubus blanched, and paled at the idea. “Yeah, it sucks but it’s part of the curse.”
“Curse?” The other incubus asked.
I laughed loudly. “Oh man, ya really don’t know? Ye’re fucking incubi now. Sexual damn demons that sleep with women for their life forces. That witch is taking what ye extract from them and using it for her own reasons. Ye realize that, huh?”
The incubus in my grip writhed. “That’s not—”
“Do we need to remind ye of what we’re capable of? If it helps, I can show ye how I can turn into a large bird and take a huge shite on yer head. Don’t tempt me, I ate a big lunch,” my tone was serious, though I wanted to laugh.