An Incubus Only Calls Your Name Once

by A M Boone

  She huffed, blowing out her cheeks. “Maybe it’ll work out. Don’t get her killed. I don’t want a repeat of June.”

  June. Marie said his assistant died six months ago, so she must be referring to Daniel.

  “Vincent,” I said quietly, and they both stared at me. “What happened to Daniel?”

  “Personally, Miss Delacroix, I don’t believe that’s any of your business.”

  “Right. You’re right. I overstepped.” I shuffled in place.

  She clicked her tongue. “Why’d you contract with her anyway? Because of her fuckwit husband?”

  He nodded again. “He was about to punch her lights out on a city street, I got rid of him, and in return, she made a contract.”

  Did he have to air my dirty laundry everywhere? I sighed.

  “She has some esper boy hanging on her every word.”

  “Ooh, an esper? How quaint.” She grinned again. “Royal or rebel supporter?”

  They both stared at me, and I shrugged.

  “He said his parents were on the wrong side.”

  “Rebel, then,” she said. “His parents were probably executed.”

  I swallowed, my throat dry. Executed? Just for being on the wrong side of a war? That was inhumane. But on the other hand, they weren’t human. Even though he looked, sounded, and acted human, at the end of the day, he was an esper. And he’d act like it.

  Vincent nodded. “I did a bit of research on him. Santiago Dominguez, also known as Tiago Tiisonija, son of Annabella and Geoffrey Tiisonija. His mother was Queen Helena’s right hand woman until her husband, Geoffrey, lured her over to the rebels’ side. She attempted to kill the queen to start a revolution, was the leader of the rebel forces during the war, and once she lost, was promptly, and nastily, executed for her crimes.”

  Bile crept up my throat. Why did he keep this from me?

  “Have a drink,” Felicia said. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  “I’m just telling you the truth,” he said, shrugging. “His father was imprisoned for life, and Mr. Dominguez was smuggled out of Dzramave as an infant and taken to the human world where he was adopted by his aunt and her wife.”

  Made sense. Santi’s Aunt Maribel told me his parents died in a car accident and refused to say their names. Now I knew why.

  “If he touches her…”

  “You’re so possessive.” Felicia rolled her eyes. “Then again, no one would care if you killed him. He’s the son of rebel supporters, and was probably stricken from the records when his parents got caught.”

  “I’d care,” I said softly.

  “That doesn’t count. I mean starting another war.” She flounced over to Vincent’s bar and poured me a drink.

  “Who said you could touch my alcohol?” Vincent said.

  “I did,” she said, shrugging.

  “So… how did you two meet?” I asked.

  “Me and Vincent go way back.” She stuffed a glass of clear liquor in my hand. “Met back in the cubi kingdom, Thoiriele, when we were little.”

  Back in the Stone Age, most likely.

  Vincent seethed silently, but said nothing.

  Then again, I had no idea how old Vincent was. He seemed like a normal man, maybe in his mid to late thirties, but he could be hundreds, thousands, or even hundreds of thousands of years old. Did demons even die? Could they be killed? Santi said he wasn’t just a cubi either…

  I took a cautious sip of the booze Felicia got me. As I expected, it was bitter, and and burned my throat on the way down. I coughed.

  “Not a vodka person?”

  “Not really.”

  Usually, Santi and I were getting drunk off of cheap shots of gin that were more like paint thinner than anything humans should drink.

  I downed the rest of my shot glass, letting its warmth fill me up, and rolled my shoulders.

  “You need to relax,” she said, smiling. “Another?”

  “I’m good for now, thanks.” I matched her grin.

  Then her smile turned predatory. She circled around me slowly, a devilish smirk on her face. “She’s cute, at the least. Such a round face, and her tits…”

  I threw my arms over my chest, my face burning.

  “And her energy?” she asked.

  “Exquisite.” Vincent’s voice seemed so far away.

  Exquisite. No one had ever used that word to describe me before. I sighed. He didn’t mean it in a loving or appreciative way, though. He meant it in the way a starving animal would describe their next meal.

  But at the end of the day, that was all I was. A walking, talking, lunch bag.

  She ran her fingers down my arm, and I shuddered. Her skin was hairless, just like Vincent’s, and milky white. And the dress she wore clung to her curves obscenely.

  Why would she find me attractive, though? She was taller than me, had a thinner waist than me, and her face hurt to look at. Maybe it was a cubi thing.

  “Can I have a taste?” she asked.

  “Knock yourself out.” His voice was tired. So, so, tired. He flopped down on his couch.

  Felicia turned to me, and said, “Is that okay?”

  I’d never even thought about kissing a girl before, but as she stood next to me, and that smell of smoke and roses overpowered everything else, it sounded nice. Her lips were plump and full, and her breasts heaved under her dress as she breathed me in.

  “Y-yeah,” I said.

  “Okay. Some humans aren’t cool with that…”

  She kissed me. Her lips were as soft as Vincent’s, and she gently pulled energy from my body as her tongue parted my lips. She was sweet, like candy, compared to Vincent’s spice. Heat pooled between my legs, and my knees grew weak.

  Then she pulled away. My head spun, and I stumbled a little, black smoke oozing from my chest.

  Her eyes were fuzzy and unfocused, and she staggered a bit, a dopey grin on her face. “You’ve been holding out on me! She’s just… oh…”

  Was I really that tasty to them? What made me special?

  Vincent pulled out a case of cigarettes from his pocket and popped one out, then snapped his fingers and lit it with his magic. “I don’t know. Some… some non-cubi, they attract us like moths to a flame. Human, esper, mage, it doesn’t matter.”

  “I… I see…”

  “Was that your first kiss?” she asked, chuckling.

  “From a girl…”

  She let out another snort of laughter.

  I glanced at Vincent. He took long, deliberate drags from his cigarette and stared at us. Was he angry? Sad? He wasn’t human, and I’d never know how his brain worked. He could be livid, about to rip us both apart, and we wouldn’t know until it was too late.

  “You look like shit,” she said. “When was the last time you took? Get into a scrap?”

  “A week ago. And yes, I did.”

  “Why?”

  Now that I’d gotten a better look at him, his hair was duller and limp, and his face was ashen.

  “Ran into her and her lackeys again, and Miss Delacroix rejected me last time I tried to take.”

  Her? Mother of Light cultists? Or someone else who wanted his head on a pike?

  “Just find someone at a club or something. I don’t get you sometimes.” She put her hands on her hips.

  He took another hit off his cigarette.

  “If you don’t take, you die, right?” I asked.

  Felicia nodded. “He should be lucky to have a delectable little thing like you around.” She kissed me again, but this time on my cheek. “If you don’t want her, I’ll take her.”

  “I let you have a taste,” he said, smoke spilling from his mouth. “She’s mine.”

  “Fine, whatever, jeez.” She pouted. “So possessive…”

  “If you’re just going to talk about me, you can leave.”

  This was his best friend? If he treated his friends this way, how the hell did he treat his enemies?

  But was Daniel the same way? Did he attract hi
m like a moth to a flame? Would I ever be able to be like him? Be the assistant Vincent loved—as much as a demon could—and respected? My shoulders slumped, and I stared at my shoes.

  Maybe…

  “Did you just bring me here to fuck me?” I blurted out.

  He said nothing, but there was a subtle change in the feel of the room.

  One of my duties was to let him feed off me whenever he liked, after all. He’d said it himself. That meant fucking.

  I slipped off my jacket, trembling, and dropped it to the floor.

  His neutral expression faded to a smirk. “Keep going.”

  I swallowed down the shame building in my gut and pulled my shirt over my head. Wait. Why was I reacting this way? Sex was natural. I shouldn’t be ashamed.

  “If you’re not going to let me touch her again, can I at least watch and skim off?” Felicia cut in.

  I choked on my own spit and started coughing. She wanted to watch?

  He blew out another cloud of smoke. “If you wish.” He put out his cigarette on the ashtray on the coffee table, then said, “I didn’t say stop, Miss Delacroix.”

  I fiddled with my pants’ button, then wriggled out of them.

  “I’m not comfortable with this,” I said.

  With Anthony, after we got married, we always had sex in the dark, under the covers, and it was fumbling and painful, only about his pleasure. Not mine. Even asking for a bit of equality in the bedroom meant being screamed at, or worse, a black eye or fat lip. Eventually, he stopped fucking me at all.

  “Oh. Fair.” She pouted again. “Well, I’ve got things to do, anyway. Have fun with her. If you ever need a second pair of hands, you know where I am.”

  And she vanished in a shimmer of light.

  Now I was alone and at his mercy.

  “We need to talk,” he said. I just stared. “I know he hurt you, and you have walls up. I’m the same way. I’ve been burned before, and it’s hard to let people in. But he’s not here anymore. This is a new chapter of your life, and—”

  “A gilded cage is still a cage.”

  His eyes widened. “Is this really how you see this?”

  “If I disobey you, you’ll just eat me. You won’t even let me be around my best friend. I just went out of the frying pan and into the fire. At least Anthony was only a human.”

  “Oh…” He stood up, and I flinched. “You truly are afraid of me.” He took slow, deliberate steps towards me, as if I were some wild animal that’d lash out at him.

  He raised his hand, and I closed my eyes. I was used to this. Used to being hit, abused, and treated like garbage. I’d survive anything he threw at me—

  But instead of punching or slapping me, he just gently touched my cheek. I opened my eyes and stared up at him.

  His eyes, even though they were a bright crimson, held no malice in them. Strange.

  “You’re crying,” The way he said it was so matter-of-fact. So lifeless. He gently wiped away my tears with his fingertip.

  I had been crying? How pathetic. I buried my face into the fabric of his shirt, and sobbed. He froze up, then gently wrapped his arms around me.

  “How do you do it?” I asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Be so… ruthless. When you killed Elery, it was like you were a totally different person, and…”

  Which was the real him? The man who was holding me and wiping away my tears, or the sadistic demon who would eat a fairy—a living creature—whole and not even care?

  Could be both, could be neither, and I’d never know until it was too late.

  He finally said, “To survive as long as I have, you have to be.”

  I pulled away from him and wiped at my eyes. How embarrassing, sobbing like a small child in front of him… “Would it be sad if I said I missed him?”

  He didn’t say anything, and just stared.

  “He wasn’t always like that. We dated throughout high school and college, but it wasn’t until we got married that he changed.”

  “No,” he said. “You’re not the first or last woman who’s asked me to kill an abusive spouse. As I said before, I don’t suffer wife-beaters lightly.”

  “Right.”

  Even though he said time and time again that he wouldn’t hurt me, that this would make me a bigger and better person, it didn’t feel like it. I was still walking on eggshells around him, like with Anthony, but worse. At least Tony wasn’t able to eat me whole.

  I rubbed my arm, shivering in the cool air of his apartment.

  He softly ran his fingertips over my cheek and neck, and I shuddered again.

  “If… If you want to take from me, you can. I’m sorry about last night, I don’t want you to die or anything…”

  “I can go without feeding for three weeks before I get sick, it’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine,” I said firmly. “Take from me.”

  He was silent, just taking my hand and leading me over to his couch.

  I swallowed, my mouth dry.

  He settled onto the couch, and then pulled out his cock and stroked it to full hardness. Was that even pleasurable for him? Maybe it was like scratching an itch, or eating a good meal. It pulsed under his touch, and he relaxed for the first time today.

  I crawled into his lap, and he met eyes with me before pressing his lips to mine. They were as soft as silk, and he gently parted my lips with his tongue. It was like he was kissing my very soul, kissing what made me, me, as he drained me of energy.

  A bit of color came back into his skin and hair as he pulled away.

  He shivered under my touch. “So good…” he mumbled.

  I smiled at him, and he grabbed me by the hips and shoved me onto his cock. I lost my breath, and wrapped my arms around his neck, forcing myself to swallow down sweet air.

  “How long has it been since he touched you properly?”

  “Two years,” I choked out.

  He gently caressed my face. “Two years… if only he knew what he was missing…” He kissed my neck, then licked my mark. I bit back the moan growing in my throat, heat pooling between my legs. I dug my fingernails into the fabric of his suit jacket. I’d smell like him for the rest of the week, if not longer—

  I cried out as his fingers dug into my hips, and he started moving me. Even though Anthony said I was too heavy, and that I’d crush him if I even thought about being on top, it was like I was weightless in his hands.

  “Good girl,” he said quietly. “Louder. More.”

  “Vincent,” I moaned. “Faster. Please, go faster, don’t stop.”

  He slowed down, and I keened—god, I fucking keened—throwing my head back and squirming under his touch. I tightened around him, every muscle, every cell of my body on fire as he trailed kisses around my breasts and up my neck.

  Then he sped up, whispering those eldritch, demonic words in my ear, and I came, clinging to him like I’d die if I didn’t, incoherent screams ripping from my throat.

  “Excellent,” he said, pulling me off him. My whole body was swollen and overly sensitive, and I laid in his lap, motionless.

  “Do… do you want me to finish you off?” I murmured.

  “It’s not necessary.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t get anything out of it anyway…”

  That was a bit sad.

  “Does it even feel good to you?”

  “It’s like eating a nice meal.” He glanced at me. He was glowing with magic—power—his aura oppressive, and his hair and eyes were bright.

  “I see.”

  He gently massaged my shoulder. “I think this is the beginning of a wonderful partnership, Miss Delacroix.”

  If only I’d known how wrong he was.

  Chapter Five

  After Vincent and I’s exploits, he cleaned me up and took me back to my apartment.

  “Have you been packing?” he asked, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “A little. I’ve been busy with classes and stuff…”

  “I see. I’ve
found another apartment for you in Rose Creek. I expect you to be packed up and ready to go by next Friday night.”

  Another thing added to my massive debt.

  “This is free. As I said before, if you were miserable, your energy would taste disgusting. It’s in both of our best interests for you to be well fed, safe, and happy.”

  But was I really safe? Whatever happened to Daniel could happen to me, and… My stomach did a flip-flop.

  He said nothing, but his hands tightened around the steering wheel a little.

  The two of us walked up to my apartment—

  Oh, this was just lovely. Santi was waiting for me. Any other time, I would have welcomed his presence, but with Vincent here…

  “Oh, hi, Ana. You weren’t answering your phone, so I—” He glanced up at Vincent and went sheet white. His eyes narrowed, and he got into his face, practically foaming at the mouth. “You! You tricked her into a contract and—”

  “So. This is the infamous Santiago,” he said. His voice was dripping with mockery. “Let’s just settle this now. You’re never going to get what you want from her. I know everything about you, and—”

  “Shut up!” Santi cried, shoving him. “I won’t let you corrupt her, not now, not ever.”

  He thought Vincent would corrupt me? He cared that much? Maybe he really did…

  “How quaint. Do you really think you can protect her? You couldn’t even protect her from a human, what makes you think you’ll be able to keep her safe from anyone supernatural?”

  I glared at him. I didn’t need protecting. Not anymore.

  He tilted Santi’s chin up and stared him straight in the eye. “Leave her alone. She doesn’t need some son of a would-be rebel hanging off her every word. You’re a coward. You couldn’t even tell the woman you loved—”

  He smacked his hand away. “Don’t touch me, you filthy half-breed. I know what you are.”

  Vincent’s eyes narrowed. “How dare you. Look. I’m not going to say this again. Stay away from her.”

  “Never. I might not be as powerful as you, but I’ll protect her from you until the ten years are up. Then you’re going down.” His eyes flickered blue again, and crackling lines of pale pink energy spiraled up his arms. “I’m not beyond fighting you.”