An Incubus Only Calls Your Name Once

by A M Boone

  He’d turn into that awful form he used to kill Anthony.

  “No.” He shook his head. “That’s something completely different.”

  Oh. Great.

  “Is this place human?” I asked.

  “Some human, some not. Does it really matter? As long as you have my mark, no one in there will touch you. I’ll make sure of that.”

  I shivered again. I’d know that tone of voice anywhere. He meant killing them.

  I spent the rest of the car ride glancing him over. Unlike the night we met, he was wearing a tux instead of a business suit, and it hugged his body perfectly. He was lithe, but with a hint of muscle to back it up, and even his face was different. More mature. More delicate.

  “May I ask why you’re staring, Miss Delacroix?”

  I stared at my hands, my face burning, and a little puff of black smoke came out of my chest. Way to go.

  “If you’re going to ogle me like a piece of meat, that’s not free.”

  “That’s hypocritical.”

  “How so?”

  “After you fucked my brains out last week, I’m not even allowed to look at you?”

  A smirk twitched at the edge of his lips. “Fair enough. Ogle away.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “As I said before, dinner, then work.”

  “And what’s work?”

  “There’s a fairy whose repayment time is up. I lent her some money a few years ago, and she’s been avoiding me ever since.”

  “A fairy? Like Tinkerbell?”

  “If you’re going to be so vulgar… Yes. Like Tinkerbell. I know where she lives, and we’re making a house call.”

  I nodded.

  “After we eat, I’m going to feed off of you, you’re going to change clothes, and we’re collecting.”

  Feeding. Meaning I was going to fucked until I couldn’t see straight again. Could be worse. He could literally eat me.

  The rest of the car ride went on in silence, and soon, we pulled up to a waterfront restaurant with a name I couldn’t even pronounce. Large windows faced out towards the bay and parking lot, and fat cats were inside, eating food which probably cost more than I made in a month. Lovely.

  At the least, he was doing his best impression of a gentleman. He helped me out of the car, gave the valet a fifty dollar tip, and then took my hand gently and led me in. His hands were powder soft, unlike mine.

  I shuddered, and a jolt went down my spine, but whether it was from his touch or the cool air, I didn’t know.

  The restaurant was just as opulent on the inside as it was on the outside, with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, several levels of chairs and tables filled with dining patrons, and even a small orchestra performing in a in a pit in the center. Wow. If I tried to come in here on my own, they’d probably laugh me out the door.

  The maître d’ greeted us warmly. He was tall, dark skinned, with piercing silver eyes, and a muscular build which made him look bigger than he already was. He towered over Vincent by at least half a foot, and I was barely eye level with the underside of his chest.

  “Mr. Aldana, always a pleasure. And who is your lovely lady friend?”

  He pulled me a little closer, smiling. “This is Eliana Cecilia Delacroix. My newest field assistant.”

  The maître d’ raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Smart move. The way Vincent was staring at him could bore a hole through lead.

  “A-anyway, follow me,” he said. “Your normal table?”

  Something about the way his eyes caught the light unsettled me. Was he supernatural?

  “Of course,” Vincent said, sighing.

  “And the usual?”

  He nodded. “Miss Delacroix can order for herself, however.”

  The maître d’ herded us into a glass elevator and took us to a small balcony overlooking the rest of the restaurant. He handed me a menu, then merely nodded to Vincent before stepping into the shadow of the table and vanishing.

  I flinched. So he was supernatural.

  “So…” I said.

  “What is it?” He took a sip of water.

  “Was the guy I saw on your Facebook your assistant?”

  He choked. “Yes. Daniel was my previous field assistant.”

  I shouldn’t pry. But if he could have a guy like him for an assistant, why would he want me? I wasn’t special. I was just a poor, Black, struggling grad student who’d been smacked around by her shithead of a husband one too many times. Daniel, on the other hand, seemed immaculate.

  “Anyway,” he said. “I wanted to give you this.” He slid an envelope across the table.

  Great. Another thing added to my already massive debt.

  “This is free. If you’re going to be working for me, I’m not going to let you starve on the streets, or die if you catch the flu.”

  I opened it. Inside was a corporate credit card with my name on it, and a health insurance card.

  “I did a bit of research on you, Miss Delacroix. You grew up in a working class home, with your parents, and two other siblings as the youngest. While you were never starving, you never got to experience the finer things in life, and after your brother was in a car accident, you were all saddled with thousands in medical bills. Afterward, you left for Johanna Winston University, and found yourself buried under thousands of dollars of student loans. All of those have been repaid.”

  A little creepy… But it was better than nothing.

  “Thanks.” I gave him a small smile. “The way things were going, I would have been in debt forever.”

  He shrugged. “Seventy thousand dollars is a drop in the bucket to me. The rest of your school fees have been prepaid as well.”

  “But why?”

  “You’ve already signed off ten years of your life to me.” He trailed his fingers up and down the stem of his wine glass. “If you were miserable, your energy would taste disgusting.”

  And there it was. He was just fattening me up for the slaughter. I tugged at my sleeve.

  A few moments later, a bubbly brunette came up with a bottle of wine.

  “Good evening, Mr. Aldana,” she said, grinning.

  “Good evening. This is my newest assistant, Eliana Delacroix.”

  She glanced me over. Was she judging me? Did she think I was inadequate compared to all his other assistants?

  But she gave me a small smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Likewise.”

  She poured me a glass, and left. I stared at it. It was a bright shade of pink, with a dense, fruity aroma that made my nose itch.

  To be honest, I wasn’t really a wine person. Usually, if I was getting drunk, it’d be with Santi, pounding back beers, or worse, doing shots with cheap liquor until the room was spinning. Not gently drinking glasses of wine which probably cost more than my parents made in a year.

  “To new horizons,” he said, raising his glass. That half-smile, half-smirk was back on his face.

  “To new horizons,” I said, glancing away.

  We clinked our glasses together, and I bit back a sigh. This really sealed the deal.

  I skimmed the menu. None of it seemed all the appetizing, mainly high class fare like prime rib, filet mignon, caviar… Maybe my lack of appetite was just nerves. I wiped my palms on my dress.

  Wasn’t every day you had dinner with a man-eating demon, after all—

  He rolled his eyes. Right. Mind reading. Now that I was his indentured servant for the next ten years, not even my thoughts were mine. Great.

  “Half the restaurant can hear you,” he said idly, and I twitched.

  My face burned, and I peeked over the balcony. “It’s not my fault I’m just a normal human.”

  He skimmed his fingertips over my palm. “No, you’re not.”

  “What?”

  “I wouldn’t have made the contract if you were a normal human.”

  I swallowed. So I’d be working in a sweatshop right now, or worse, be rotting away in his stomach along with Antho
ny.

  “No. I would have just taken some of your life energy to pay it off. Shortened your life span by about ten years, and we never would have seen each other again.” He sighed and carded his hand through his hair, his eyes dark. “Contracting… Contracting with normal humans never ends well, and I’m not sure why I ever tried it.”

  Yeah. Daniel was dead. Something happened to him, and…

  “Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “Your father’s a half-blooded witch.”

  What.

  I choked on my sip of wine. “I’m pretty sure I’d know if my father was a witch—wizard—whatever.”

  But if I wasn’t human, why didn’t Momma or Daddy say anything? Esme and Elliot seemed normal too. This wasn’t adding up—

  “If a supernatural marries into a human family, they may stay quiet about their heritage. I’d go talk to him.”

  Great.

  “I’m not expecting you to do much, being a fourth and all, but you need to be able to protect yourself a little.” He knitted his hands together. “There’s a lot of exterminators and others who want my head on a pike, and I’m not going to let you get hurt.”

  At least he cared that much.

  “Supernatural exterminators?”

  “Correct. Followers of the Mother of Light. Avoid them. They all have marks on their wrists in the shape of a diamond.”

  “All right.”

  “They’re just mad because I killed twenty the last time they tried to come after me.”

  I choked again, and he just tented his fingers, staring at me. Something about his gaze made me feel small.

  “Let me guess. You ate them,”

  “You’re never going to let that go, are you? No. Contrary to popular belief, I can do more than that.”

  The waitress bounced back up to us, grinning. “Miss Delacroix, have you picked what you’re going to order?”

  “Yeah. The prime rib. Medium-rare.”

  “An excellent choice.” She plucked the menu off the table and walked away.

  “Is she in on it?”

  “No. Normal human.”

  Figured.

  “A good ballpark figure is to assume one in ten people are supernatural, and one more just doesn’t know it.”

  Yikes. That was a lot. More than I’d ever think.

  He dug around in his pocket and handed me something else. “I forgot to give you this.”

  My wedding ring. Just looking at it made bile crawl up my throat. God, the day he slipped it on my finger… We eloped to Vegas to be married, and it was the happiest day of my life. It was before he showed his true colors.

  “You can keep it,” I said, rubbing my arms. “Pawn it, give it to one of your fuckbuddies, I don’t care, but I don’t want it. Not now, not ever.”

  “I understand.” He pocketed it. “Personally, I don’t blame you…”

  We spent the next twenty minutes or so making awkward small talk. He knew everything about me already, and gave me vague, canned answers whenever I asked him anything. Sure, he was a centuries old demon, and I was just a twenty-six-year-old grad student, but he could at least tell me about his family or friends or something. He did bring up something about another incubus named Feli though. Hopefully, he’d be nice.

  The waitress came back with our food, and we ate in silence.

  Prime rib. I’d never had it, but Santi said something about how good it was a few years back.

  He wasn’t wrong. It was moist, flavorful, but a bit too rich and heavy for me.

  Vincent, on the other hand, got something much smaller and lighter. Salmon, with rice on the side, and a mixed vegetable medley.

  “Do you even have to eat?” I blurted out. Way to go.

  He raised an eyebrow. “No. It’s not nourishing—and if you say anything about me eating humans, so help me god—but everyone enjoys a good-tasting meal, right?”

  I giggled, and his neutral expression faded. Oh, boy. I was in for it now.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “It’s just that you’re a demon and you’re talking about god, it’s ironic—”

  The look on his face made me shut up. I needed to remember that even though he bought me clothing and dinner, he was still a demon, and I was still his slave.

  “Let’s set a few things straight, all right?” He pointed his fork at me. “You’re not my slave. You made the contract out of your own free will. One thing for another. I disposed of your abusive fuckwit of a husband, so you work for me for ten years.”

  Right.

  He leaned back in his chair and took another sip of his wine. “It’ll make your life a lot easier if you throw out everything you think you know about demons and angels, because it’s all complete and total bullshit. That’s all I’m saying on the matter.”

  I groaned internally.

  The rest of our meal went on in silence, and I glanced over him a bit more. He was left handed—but that made sense for a demon—had delicate hands, and long, slender fingers. His fingernails were a deep shade of gray, nearly black, and his skin was smooth and hairless. Even as he ate, he was still graceful and quick. The “man of wealth and taste” thing was true.

  Afterward, he tossed a few hundreds on the table, and then grabbed my hand.

  “I changed my mind,” he said softly. “We’re heading back to your apartment so you can change clothes, collecting, then I’m feeding.” His voice had a venom to it that made a chill go down my spine.

  * * *

  I spent the entire ride back staring out the window, watching buildings and other cars fly by.

  He parked outside my apartment. “You have twenty minutes.”

  I rushed inside, and fumbled with my keys, my hands trembling, until—

  I ran straight into someone. Santi?

  “Ana?”

  Yup. Just Santi. Who let him in? A neighbor?

  “You haven’t been answering your phone. Are you okay?”

  I kept my eyes to the ground and tugged my shawl a bit closer around me. He didn’t need to see me like this. Marked. Claimed.

  “I’m fine. I was just working.”

  “You went to work dressed like that?”

  Fuck me.

  “It was a company dinner.” I rubbed my arm.

  “Oh, okay. I was about to put an APB out on you.” He punched my arm lightly, giggling. I forced myself to laugh with him.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m just changing clothes to do a house call. He’s waiting outside.”

  “Are we still going to study together tomorrow?”

  “Sure.”

  My mark grew warm, and even though Vincent didn’t say anything, or communicate with me telepathically, it was obvious what he meant. Stop dawdling.

  I shivered and glanced up at Santi.

  He froze. “What happened to your eye?”

  “N-nothing. I need to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I unlocked my door, and he rested a hand on my shoulder.

  “Hey. Just remember… I’m here for you if anything’s going wrong. We’re best friends, right? You can tell me anything.”

  God, how I wanted to. How I wanted to tell him everything. But I wasn’t getting my closest friend—my best friend—tangled up in this mess.

  “Don’t worry about me. Later.”

  “Later.” He flopped onto my couch and started scrolling through his phone. “Stay safe, okay?”

  “I’ll try.”

  He gave me a small smile, and my heart skipped a beat. Ugh. I couldn’t think about him like that. Vincent would probably bite his head off if he even thought I had feelings for him.

  But by this point, Santi had fucked half the school, both male and female, and I was thoroughly friendzoned. He probably found a potted plant more attractive than me by now.

  I forced myself out of the dress, then pulled on a gray pantsuit, shivering.

  * * *

  By the time I got back to his car, he was staring at his
watch and drumming his hands on the steering wheel.

  “You’re late,” he said, and my blood ran cold.

  He had reverted back to that hulking, demonic form. Even his voice was guttural and deep, and fangs peeked out of his mouth. Hmm. Marie was right. Her clothes did stretch. His suit fit him just as perfectly as it did when we were having dinner.

  “Sorry. Let’s just get this over with.” I hopped into the passenger’s seat.

  “Miss Delacroix, I’m never going to hurt you. Not like he did. Not now, not ever. Play by the rules, and this’ll make you a bigger and better person.” He drove off.

  But if I broke the rules, I died. A gilded cage was still a cage.

  Some emotion flickered over his face, and he sighed. “By the way, who’s the boy?”

  Boy? Oh, gross.

  “His name is Santiago. He’s my best friend,” I said firmly. “We’re friends.”

  “Are you saying that to me, or yourself?”

  “You. Definitely you.”

  Maybe him. I swallowed, my heart thumping away against my ribs.

  “I’ve known him since I was a tween.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Something about the way he was so glib made my blood boil. This man.

  “I’m not the one getting jealous whenever I talk to someone with a penis.”

  “It’s not that. I just don’t want you getting distracted.”

  I shrugged.

  “Anyway. A primer on shooting a gun. One. Don’t put your finger on the trigger unless you’re ready to shoot. Two. Don’t point it at anything you’re not willing to shoot. Three. If you have to shoot, shoot to kill. That means head or torso. None of that kneecap bullshit.”

  My breath caught in my throat. “We’re going to kill her?”

  “Not if I can help it. But you never know what might happen. Fairies aren’t that strong, but they can control others who are.” He tossed his hair back. “So. Four. The recoil’s going to get you, so don’t shoot near your face unless you want to give yourself a black eye. And finally. Use both hands, this isn’t a movie or a rap video. Do you understand?”

  I nodded. “But if you’re some all-powerful demon, why do you have guns?”

  “I’m an ‘all-powerful’ demon. You’re not. I’m not going to let you get killed on your first job.”

  My stomach lurched. I couldn’t do this. I was a coward, and everyone knew this.