Incubus Inc

by Randi Darren

  “Right,” Sam said. Using some of the free-floating Essence from his work, he made a small blade. He sliced a cut open in the palm of Decima’s new body, then did the same in his own palm. Clasping his hand to hers, he braced himself. “I’m going to draw you over and bind you in the same crossing. If you refuse the binding, you’ll die all over again. Your soul will be lost to the world, and it’s unlikely you’ll ever reform.

  “Are you ready?”

  “By the heavens, I am indeed ready. Bring me across, husband Sam,” Decima said. “Oh, to be in the world and fighting the forces of darkness again! My soul burns for it!”

  Let’s… hope the higher planes aren’t paying attention, because bringing Decima back… this is going to turn heads.

  Looking up at the spirit, Sam had a moment of doubt.

  Standing there on the other side of the portal was Lady Decimation. She was a flaming spirit, wreathed in the bright red fires of negativity and the pain she’d brought to others.

  And he was about to free her into a new body to work for him.

  Sinking a hook of Essence into her, Sam drew her across the portal.

  With an explosion, the portal detonated as Decima left it. Drawing her onward, he pushed her cleansed soul into the flesh golem.

  Not really a flesh golem though, now is it?

  He’d constructed it to be a perfect copy of a human, yet with far better innate abilities. Calling it a golem was an insult. It was perhaps twice a normal average human at its base. Without training or conditioning.

  The eyes flicked open as Decima settled into the body. Then she took a deep, gasping breath.

  “I swear to the accord,” she wheezed out with her first breath, her fingers crushing Sam’s between her own.

  Sam’s blood shot down into Decima’s arm and immediately began to pool in her heart. It filled it to the point that some of her own blood was forced into Sam.

  “By the heavens,” Decima said, looking pained with a gasp. “It hurts!”

  “I imagine you forgot how to breathe,” Sam said, waiting to see what the higher planes would do. So far, there’d been nothing.

  Not even the whisper of a presence. No anger. No justice.

  Nothing.

  Decima was taking gasping breaths, one hand pressed to her stomach and the other clenched to Sam’s.

  “Ah… yes,” she said, her breathing becoming more stable. “Yes. It seems you’re correct, husband Sam.

  “Yes. Breathing. Yes.”

  Sam was only marginally paying attention to her. He was more focused on listening to the plane. For the very marked and blatantly loud arrival of those who inhabited the higher plane.

  And yet there was still nothing. As he looked at Decima, Sam was starting to believe he’d gotten away with it.

  Closing her eyes, Decima focused on simply being alive. Sam couldn’t help but smirk as she obviously experimented.

  She breathed. She swallowed. She itched.

  “Well?” Sam asked.

  “I appear to be… exactly as you promised,” Decima said, then opened her eyes again. They were bright, shiny, and clear.

  She smiled at him, and her severe face looked entirely different. “Lady Decima Vera lives,” she murmured. “Fear me, evil, for I once again walk the earth.”

  ***

  “Decima Vera, former witch hunter,” Sam said, introducing the woman next to him. They were all standing in an empty apartment they’d taken and turned into a gym.

  Slowly, they were taking more and more of the apartment building, moving up one floor at a time.

  Opening her mouth, Decima seemed at a loss. She was looking from woman to woman at those she was now in a mercenary company with.

  “A Were, Vampire, Cambion, Doppelganger, Imp, Cyclops, Succubus, and… an undead Witch,” Decima said, turning to glare at Sam.

  “Yes, that’s what they all are,” Sam said, meeting Decima’s hard eyes.

  “And what of it, huh?” Tiffany asked in a growl. “You wanna spar, pretty girl?”

  As she turned back to Tiffany, it was clear Decima was confused. Then she nodded. “Of course I’ll spar with you. It would be good to exchange blows and understand one another.

  “You are a Were… and I have come to realize my previous thoughts were incorrect. Hated you may be, and impure as a cesspit overwhelmed with the filth of thousands, but you are a living being deserving of life if you live correctly. Even if you’re stained.”

  “Real great way with words,” Tiffany growled, shifting into her hybrid phase, her hands flexing. “Gonna make you eat ’em.”

  Sam wasn’t about to get in the middle of this. Decima would have to learn to play nice with the very people she’d hunted down previously.

  One way or another.

  He’d begin punishing her soon enough if she couldn’t curb it.

  “You two have fun,” Sam said, then looked at Irma. Walking over to her, he nodded his head to one side. He hadn’t seen her since last night and wanted to have a talk.

  Hopefully she was doing well.

  Immediately she followed him, her hands clasped to his arm tightly. The moment they stopped next to the wall, she spun him around and hugged him tightly. It felt like she was trying to crush him.

  “Sammy, my precious Sammy. I cannot even begin to tell you… how much last night meant to me,” Irma said, her voice breaking slightly. “Can’t. Can’t even start. There are no words.”

  “I’d be happy with thank you, and that’s all that needs to be done or said,” Sam said, wrapping his arms around Irma’s shoulders. “Have a good chat with Mom?”

  “Yes. A very… very good chat… with Mom,” Irma said, sniffling. She pressed her face into his shoulder. “She’s been with me the whole time.”

  “Indeed, she has,” Sam said. “She’s probably been dodging Tenders and portals for a very long time.”

  “What’s a Tender?” Irma asked.

  “Think of it as a grim reaper. It’s close enough to that,” Sam said.

  “She didn’t mention those,” Irma said, lifting her head up to look into his face. “Just the portals.”

  “Hmmm?” Sam asked. That sounded odd. Tenders had always been rather dogmatic in collecting souls.

  Tenders, the higher plane, what else has changed…? I begin to wonder and worry.

  I should speak with Miles.

  “She didn’t mention them. Just the portals,” Irma said again. “That’s… that’s not a good thing, is it?”

  “No. It isn’t, actually. I’ll look into it later,” Sam muttered.

  “What’s… Decima, by the way?” Irma said with a look toward the middle of the apartment.

  Tiffany and Decima were standing across from one another now. They were wearing padded martial arts gloves and had put on some basic padded gear.

  “A witch hunter. She was human before she died. I brought her through the portal last night while you chatted with your mother,” Sam said. “She bartered a few millennia away with us to rejoin the living.

  “And yes, before you ask, I could easily replicate what I did with Decima for your mother if she willed it. Though it’ll take me several months before I can build up enough Life Essence to repeat it again.”

  “Truly?” Irma asked, looking up at Sam now with wide eyes. “You could bring her back?”

  “Provided there were no fate obstructions, I could indeed,” Sam said.

  “Fate… obstructions?” Irma asked.

  “Ah… something else like Tenders. There are those with truly unique souls who simply have one life, and then their soul remains forever in the after.

  “Most souls simply choose to remain in the after and never try another go. Then there are those who never can. Even if they wish it.”

  Both Sam and Irma fell silent as Tiffany roared and darted forward toward Decima.

  Who neatly sidestepped the other woman and flattened her to the ground with a roundhouse punch.

  The Were hit the ground so
hard it made Sam’s feet vibrate.

  “Goodness,” Irma said softly. “She’s… she’s very strong, isn’t she?”

  “Very,” Sam said. “I think she’s who we would send in alone, or for individual tasks that require no outside assistance.”

  “Is that because she hates everyone else?” Irma asked.

  “Partially. And partially because she used to hunt and murder all of their kind. Including my kind and your kind,” Sam said softly. “Decima was a legend. There were few who could match her in her prime. Very few.

  “She’s changed her thinking in some ways, but I don’t think she’s changed how she feels about non-humans.”

  “And… she agreed to be part of your feed harem?” Irma asked, sounding suspicious.

  “Well, with a few caveats,” Sam said, dreading this conversation already.

  He’d rather be going round for round with Decima right now than explain he needed to get a legally binding certificate of marriage with someone who wasn’t Irma.

  With another ground-shuddering bang, Decima hurled the Were to the ground.

  Yeah. Rather fight Decima.

  ***

  Sam didn’t understand what he was looking at.

  At least, not really.

  He knew it was a mercenary contract. It was a well-paying contract, and somewhat simple.

  Too simple, as far as Sam understood it.

  Which was exactly why he didn’t understand it.

  The contract, request, pay, and information were all perfect. Lined up and written as if for his team and played to their strengths.

  To Sam, it didn’t make sense because it read like such an obvious trap that it couldn’t be one.

  Which made it one.

  Growling, Sam flicked the manila folder shut and leaned back in his chair. It made him frustrated. Frustrated and angry. His first response was to immediately dismiss the contract and decline. Move on to the next.

  Except he also wanted to know who it was that’d written up something ever so nicely for them. It made him want to know more.

  On top of all that, Irma hadn’t taken the news about Decima’s demands very well. Not very well at all.

  In fact, she’d given him a point-blank statement that he was to do nothing about Decima. To or for her.

  And then she’d left after giving him the contract to read over.

  Now Sam was left with the fact that he’d angered the one person who apparently cared for him for who he was. And he had no way to rectify the situation.

  “I was a soldier before I joined the police,” said a voice.

  Looking up, Sam found Carissa the Cyclops watching him.

  “Oh?” Sam asked, genuinely curious.

  “Yes,” said the woman, entering the study and closing the door. This was another apartment on the same floor as the gym they’d been using for “business” so far. “I served as a soldier in what you would probably call a guerrilla war. Out east. Europe.”

  Sam raised his eyebrows at that. “That’s rather interesting.”

  “More so when I tell you it wasn’t for the states. It wasn’t even for a country,” said the Cyclops as she walked over to him. She was dressed in some of the clothing that Tiffany, Stacia, and Wren favored. It gave her a decidedly soldier-off-duty look. “An ideal that I believed in before I realized it was all… a lie.”

  “Coven controlled?” Sam asked on a hunch. There were parts of Europe that had been dominated by very old vampire factions throughout history.

  Sam doubted very much the current era would be very different.

  “Yes. I take it that’s rather common?” Carissa asked, coming to a stop off to the side of the table where he was.

  Staring up into that large, lovely bright eye, Sam grinned. “Uh huh. That where you learned to shoot?”

  “It sounds stupid and cliché, but… easier to use a scope than a sight for me,” Carissa said, leaning up against the table. “You really don’t mind staring into my eye?”

  “No. It’s pretty. Why would I mind it?” Sam asked.

  “Most look away. Even my newfound comrades here,” Carissa said. “Though not always, actually. They make more eye contact then most.”

  “Oh? I’m honestly wondering what you’d look like naked on this table with that eye of yours wide open,” Sam said. “I’d really love to have sex right now. Can we have sex? We can use the bedroom in the apartment across the hall if you like, or the table.”

  He was practically starving. He’d not had a meal since creating Decima. He’d been hoping for a go with Irma, but… that wasn’t an option.

  “I… I uhm… ah… yes. I suppose so. That was part of my deal,” Carissa said, her cheeks slowly turning red. “I’d prefer a bed, if possible.”

  “Great,” Sam said, then picked up the folder and handed it to Carissa. “This looks like a trap to me. I want you to read it when we’re done and give me your thoughts.”

  Sam moved at a quick pace, excited.

  He was going to eat from Carissa for the first time, and he was famished on top of that. First times always tasted the best.

  Moving into the only apartment with beds on this floor, Sam happily and enthusiastically went straight to his favorite bed.

  Turning around inside the bedroom, he stood beside the door, waiting for Carissa.

  As she came around the corner, Carissa looked nervous but slightly excited. She hadn’t lagged behind much, which told Sam all he needed to know.

  “Go ahead and set that down on the bedside; then you can strip out of those clothes for me,” he said.

  “Yeah. Okay, yeah,” Carissa said. Moving to the bedside, she dropped the folder and then started working at her clothes. She did it with her back to Sam.

  Far quicker than he meant to be, Sam was completely nude. With his clothes in a pile to one side, he was eagerly waiting for Carissa to finish up.

  Sliding a pair of white panties to the ground, Carissa turned around and looked surprised. Her single eye traveled down to Sam’s privates. Which were practically staring back at her, with how erect he was.

  “Oh,” Carissa said.

  “Go ahead and lie on the bed, on the edge,” Sam said. This was his favorite bed because it was the perfect height for him to enjoy a meal while standing.

  Carissa smiled awkwardly, and then sat down on the edge of the bed. Shimmying around, she got herself comfortable and then slowly lay down on her back.

  Stepping up between her dangling legs, Sam eased them apart. He put his hands beneath her knees and bent her legs until he had her positioned just how he liked it.

  Glancing down, he moved his hips forward, catching his tip up between her lips smoothly.

  When he lifted his gaze back to her face, he found her watching him. Her single eye wide and staring.

  “Are you ready then?” Sam asked.

  “Yes. I’m ready,” Carissa said, her fingers locked together over her stomach.

  “Would you like me to hold your legs up, or would you prefer to do it?” Sam asked, slowly sinking himself into her. He was using the question partially to distract her.

  “Uhm… you can hoooooohh.” Carissa’s response had become a moan halfway through, as her fingers curled into her palms.

  When he reached the hilt, he found she felt incredibly tight. Tight and only slightly wet.

  Slowly, he pulled himself free from her and maintained eye contact with her, smiling as his member slipped out to the tip.

  Moving his hips forward, he entered her again and found her to be slick and fully ready now.

  “As you like. I’ll hold them then,” Sam murmured as his fingers tightened into her knees.

  “Yes. Yes please,” Carissa said, her eye still locked on him. Her hands toyed with one another against her stomach.

  Setting his feet, Sam began to slowly, methodically pump in and out of Carissa. He never broke his eyes away from her own. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she was sensitive to it.

&
nbsp; Working that angle, Sam began to build up speed and force, pushing down into the Cyclops. He drove her into the bed with more force with every thrust.

  Carissa began to let out little soft breathy gasps, but she made no other noises at all. She was as quiet as could be. As if she’d forgotten how to even breathe.

  The sound of his length gliding through her was a wet swish and squish.

  Beyond that, though, Sam could feel her enjoyment and orgasm rising. She was deep into her own little space now that existed between them.

  Reaching down, she eased his hands out of the way and grabbed her own knees, pulling them slightly higher up.

  Taking the opportunity, Sam grabbed hold of Carissa’s hips and began to try and drive her straight through the bed with his thrusts.

  Each loud strike of her thighs against his lap was like a slap in the room.

  Grunting once, Carissa pulled her knees up even higher but made no more noise. Her soft gasps were all he’d get from her, it seemed.

  Holding her down on the mattress, Sam pounded away at her. Hard and fast, he was doing his best to send her tumbling over the edge now.

  Even before she hit her orgasm, though, he reached down inside of her and slipped a thin tendril of Essence into her psyche.

  He needn't have bothered.

  She was absolutely lost in what he was doing to her. Her mind was just a screaming, primal, lusty shriek that never wanted this to end.

  Especially the part where he was maintaining eye contact with her. Eye contact that was warm and caring even as he pounded at her.

  That she wanted it hard and fast.

  Sam flicked her sensitivity up to its highest possibility and beyond. Just as he did for all his women.

  Quivering, Carissa finally fell off into a massive orgasm, and Sam leapt at it. Reading what she wanted as she wanted it, he drilled her, pulled at her, pushed, angled her, and rode her as if his life depended on making her continue to climax forever.

  Locked in her orgasm, Carissa’s toes curled. Her body quivered and then went rigid.