An Incubus Only Calls Your Name Once

by A M Boone

  “I’m not some prize to be won!” I cut in. “Both of you, cut it out.”

  “Miss Delacroix, this doesn’t concern you. Step aside.”

  “It has everything to do with me!”

  “I’m not going to repeat myself.”

  Crap. I needed to disarm this before they tried to kill each other, or worse, Vincent just ripped Santi to shreds.

  I grabbed their wrists and dragged them into my apartment. The walls had ears—ears that possibly could belong to supernatural hunters—and the last thing I needed was for them to figure out we weren’t human. That could only end badly.

  “Cut it out!” I cried. “I’m not some china doll for you to fight over. Santi, I made the contract out of my own free will. Accept that. Vincent, Santi’s one of my best friends, and you’re not going to keep me away from him. Accept that.”

  Santi relaxed a little, his eyes flashing one last time before settling back to their normal hazel. Or was that normal? Anything could be possible.

  Vincent, however, was still glaring at him, his eyes a dull black. Even though his proportions were normal, something about him was wrong. Not even wrong like a demon was. Like something not from this world, like that thing Elery owned which nearly ripped Vincent apart.

  “Get out,” he said. “Just get out.”

  If I strained my ears enough, a hint of other voices spoke with him.

  Santi went pale again.

  “Vincent?” I asked.

  And as if nothing happened, he snapped back to normal.

  Wait. Had he ever been abnormal? I shook my head a few times, my vision blurring.

  Santi glared at him and reared his fist back, his hand crackling with psychic energy.

  “Santi, don’t do this,” I choked out.

  Vincent didn’t seem fazed at all. “Do you know anything about your culture, Tiago?”

  “Don’t call me that,” he spat. “No one gets to call me that.”

  As if there was some imaginary wind blowing, his hair moved on its own, and a few things near him lifted into the air. So that was the power of an esper. But something about seeing Santi this… enraged was terrifying. He never got angry. Not this angry.

  “You really don’t know what you’re messing with, do you?” he asked, merely raising an eyebrow. “I should tell her everything, and then she’ll never—”

  “Shut up!” Santi shrieked, and socked him straight in the face. Spiraling lines of blue and pink energy burst from his hand, and for a split second, Vincent froze in place, his eyes wide, before getting blasted out my living room window.

  On the fifth floor.

  I rushed to the window. Vincent was lying on top of someone’s car, and was motionless, black blood oozing from his back and sides. Broken glass littered the sidewalk around him, and the car’s alarm wailed.

  “Santi… What did you do?” The words came out more croaked than said. “You… you killed him.”

  He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then squeezed my hand. “He’s not dead.”

  “How do you know?”

  He grazed his fingers over my mark, and I froze. Right. The mark. As long as Vincent was alive, I’d be marked with his symbol until the ten years were up, or someone killed me.

  “I didn’t know you were that powerful,” I said, cracking a weak smile. At least I had someone who cared for me for more than just my body.

  Vincent slowly stirred, shaking his head and rubbing his temples. Well, if Santi wasn’t on his shit list before, he was definitely on it now. They’d never learn to get along.

  Something about that made my chest grow tight.

  “My aunt trained me in my powers from when I was five to twenty, so I had to have something,” he said quietly.

  “But on the serious side,” I said, my throat dry, “is it true?”

  “Is what true?”

  “That you…” I choked on the words. That he loved me. That he wanted to be with me, kiss me, fuck me…

  He blushed, and that was all the confirmation I needed.

  “How long?”

  “Ever since you and Tony hooked up,” he murmured.

  Twelve years? Ever since our freshman year of high school? He held a candle for that long, being a shoulder for me to cry on when Anthony was being an ass, holding me, wiping away my tears, and he never even thought to—

  “I didn’t want to ruin what we had.” He squeezed my shoulder. “I was fine just being the best friend. You loved Tony, and I wasn’t going to get in the way of that. It’d be selfish.”

  Fair. I couldn’t, and wouldn’t blame him for that.

  Vincent finally got up and stared at the both of us. He managed to survive a fifty foot drop?

  I chewed on my fingernails. He was more powerful than I ever knew.

  Santi wrapped his arm around my waist. “Do you love him?”

  “Vincent?” Bitter laughter escaped my lips. Santi thought I loved Vincent? If anything, he terrified me. If he could do what he did to Elery to another supernatural, I was nothing. I was barely a blip on his radar. Even if he made my body pulse and my heart race… “No. Of course not. He’s kind of terrifying, if you didn’t notice.”

  “Yeah.”

  I peered out the window again. Vincent was dusting off his suit and talking to someone on his phone. Felicia? Or maybe just his supernatural lawyer.

  A few people came out from my apartment complex and were surveying the damage and asking Vincent if he was all right.

  “Ugh, getting this window repaired is going to be a pain in the ass,” I said.

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” I wrung my hands. “Just… stay safe, okay? I don’t want him coming after you or something…”

  “I can hold my own. If he comes after me, I’ll just toss him out another window.” He cracked a smile, and I grinned with him. “Anyway… I’m going to go. I’ll see you tomorrow in class?”

  “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

  He vanished, leaving me with a broken window and an aching heart.

  I glanced out the window one last time. Vincent was gone. Well, at least for now. Probably to slink back to his apartment, tail between his legs. Or to come back up to my apartment and rip me to shreds. Either/or.

  * * *

  My cellphone buzzed. Anthony’s mom. Great. I could only lie for so long. Eventually, I’d be found out, and…

  I shivered. No. Vincent said he had friends in high places, and I’d be safe from the police coming after me. Even though that seemed like a pipe dream right now, for now, he was all I had.

  I finally answered the phone, dread pooling deep in my gut. “Hey, Mrs. Harrison. Have you heard from Anthony?”

  “No…” she said. “Have you?”

  “Nope.”

  Ugh. That sounded way too glib. I should be a sobbing wreck. My husband, my high school sweetheart, the man I promised to spend the rest of my life with, was dead. Vincent devoured him, ate his soul, whatever, and he was never ever coming back from that.

  But really, relief filled me. A small, tiny, part of me which I failed to squish down and ignore wanted him back more than anything, but most of me…

  I’d never have to get texts from Santi saying he was cheating again. I’d never have him scream at me or hit me again…

  “I see… Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. I’m going to go to the police tomorrow and see if they’ve heard from him.”

  A lie. Momma told me to never go to the police if I could help it. They were more likely to harm than help, after all.

  Ugh. I was going to have to go to Vincent for advice. And since my best friend, had, for all intents and purposes, humiliated him by blasting him out of a fifth story window, he was probably going to be pissed off for a while. Five bucks said he didn’t even answer my call.

  “All right. I just hope he hasn’t gotten tangled up in something he shouldn’t…”

  Like a centuries-old demon.

  “Me too. This isn’t
like him…”

  She sighed. “Well, I’ll let you go. Peter and I are going to come down there in a few days to do a little research.”

  My blood ran cold. Research? All they needed to see was the mark and my red eye, and everything was going to go straight to hell. Now I was really going to have to go Vincent. I needed to cover my ass and fast, or I’d wind up under the jail.

  If they even got the tiniest inkling of a thought that I killed him—even though technically I didn’t…

  His parents were wealthier than mine, more powerful than mine, and they never liked me. They wanted an excuse to get rid of me. They lived in the huge house on the hill, and he was a spoiled youngest child, while I had to share a bed with my sister until I moved out. They had a trajectory in mind for him, and falling in love with some working class Black girl wasn’t it.

  “I see,” I said, forcing my voice to stay light. “I’ll clean the apartment, then…”

  “Eliana,” she said, her voice hard. “Answer this question truthfully. Did you have anything to do with Tony going missing?”

  I couldn’t and wouldn’t blame her for being so suspicious. There were always grumblings when we went to go visit for the holidays, and they always thought I was just a air-headed gold digger. And after what happened to his sister…

  “No. He said he was going to Cube, a club in Rose Creek, about three weeks ago, and I never heard from him again.”

  She sighed again. She didn’t believe me. Just great.

  “Without you?”

  “You know me, always the wallflower. Clubs aren’t really my thing. He’d go there with Santiago sometimes.”

  Another lie. Santi hated Cube just as much I did.

  “All right… I’ll let you go.”

  And she hung up. I just stood there, my heart racing.

  I hovered my finger over Vincent’s contact, shuddering. If I didn’t go to him for help, Anthony’s parents would rip me apart.

  All right. Time to grovel. I tapped the call button, and put the phone back to my ear.

  It rang once, twice, three times…

  “Miss Delacroix.”

  At the least, he sounded okay.

  “Hey. I’m sorry about what Santi did. Are you okay?”

  “I’ve survived worse. Getting thrown out of a window by some Unblossomed esper was nothing. What do you want?”

  “Anthony’s parents are coming down here in a few days to investigate his death. What do I do?”

  He sighed. “Of course they are. Humans are so nosy. I’ll handle this. Just continue packing and act normal. We have another meeting with a debtor on Thursday night, and I just signed the lease on your new apartment.”

  “Thanks.”

  Another debtor. Would we kill this person? Would they even be a person? Could be another fairy, could be anything…

  “I think you’ll like it. It’s bigger and closer to the university. Also, you have a meeting with your magic trainer Tuesday night, and we’re going to the dealership to get you a new car tomorrow, so be prepared.”

  “Okay.” I relaxed a little.

  “Is there anything else you needed?”

  “That’s all. Sorry for bothering you.”

  He clicked his tongue. “It’s not a problem. As I said before, it’s in both of our best interests for you to be safe and happy.”

  “Right,” I said. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess…”

  “Of course. Have a nice rest of your evening.”

  I hung up on him.

  Maybe this would all work out.

  * * *

  I spent the rest of the evening packing up my things. I didn’t have a lot, since I wasn’t the type of person to hoard. Momma was a proponent of minimalism, and I tried my best to embody that.

  By the time I was done, all that was left was Anthony’s things. His clothes, game systems…

  I scrubbed the walls and floors, trying—and failing—to keep my mind off the past three weeks. Everything I knew—well, everything I thought I knew—about the world had been turned upside down.

  Demons existed. Non-humans lived among us. Alternate worlds full of non-humans existed. My best friend since middle school wasn’t even human.

  I shivered, then wiped the sweat off my brow. The apartment was spotless now, with just a few boxes of my things lying around, still open.

  Maybe Vincent was right, and I’d come out of the ten years a bigger and better person. Maybe I’d survive this.

  Monday afternoon, after I got out of class, Vincent was waiting for me on the outskirts of campus, near the psych building. A few people were pointing at his car and whispering.

  My face burned as I sprinted over to his car. Why was he here? Now I was going to be the talk of the school. Johanna Winston was a tiny school, with barely five thousand students, and most—if not all—of us couldn’t afford bright red convertibles.

  He rolled down the window.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Didn’t I say I was taking you to the dealership to get a new car?” He cocked his head to the side.

  “Well, yeah,” I said, rubbing my arm, “but I thought that’d meant you’d pick me up at my apartment or something. Not show up at my school.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Of course it matters! I’m trying to keep this on the down low.”

  He eyed me, and then sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll keep that in mind, Miss Delacroix.”

  I tossed my backpack in the backseat and hopped in the passenger’s seat.

  “So. Miss Delacroix, what kind of car would you like?” He sped off towards the highway.

  “I have a choice?”

  “You always have a choice.”

  He said that, but I was always so confined around him. I wouldn’t be free until the ten years were up, and even then, I wouldn’t come out unscathed.

  “Nothing too flashy then… A Honda maybe? Or a Toyota, used… Nothing fancy, just something that’ll get me from Point A to Point B without spontaneously catching on fire on the freeway, you know?”

  He clicked his tongue. “I’m not buying you a used car.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t deny yourself the finer things in life.”

  Well, he wasn’t wrong. If I was getting it for free, why not splurge?

  “What happened to my old car?”

  “Junkyard. Don’t worry, it was cleaned out before it was crushed.”

  Resignation settled in the pit of my stomach. I’d had that car since I was sixteen and first got my license. It was a gift from my great-grandmother on my mother’s side, and one of the few things of hers I still owned. Sure, it was a clunker, and I’d poured more money into keeping it from exploding than was necessary, but it was still my car.

  He pursed his lips, then said, “All the things from your car are in the trunk.”

  If he got me some fancy thing, it’d probably just get stolen anyway. Once you got far enough from the university, there was nothing of value. Just methheads and thieves.

  The drive to the dealership went on in silence, and about an hour and a half later, we pulled up at a BMW dealership.

  A BMW? Was he insane? I couldn’t drive that. I wasn’t worthy of a BMW.

  He opened the car door for me, and then offered me his hand. I took it, and he gently helped me out of the car. Holy shit. Vincent Aldana was walking me to a BMW dealership. I pinched the inside of my arm. Was I dreaming? Was I going to wake up, and it’d be that late November night again?

  A woman, probably a couple of years older than me, greeted us at the front door. “Mr. Aldana, what a pleasure. And your… companion?”

  I tugged at the hem of my hoodie. He could have at least let me change into one of Marie’s outfits before we came. I stuck out. And sticking out made me sweat.

  He introduced me and gave her a dazzling smile. She swooned. “Her past… car was destroyed, and so I’m getting her a new one. She can have anything she like
s, but don’t let her talk you into something cheap. Only the best for one of my workers, understand?”

  She glanced me over, and I already knew what she was thinking. She’s one of his workers? She looks like a street urchin. I swallowed. She was gorgeous, like all the other people in Vincent’s life, and was dressed in heels and a smart suit which hugged her curves. Curly, dark brown hair looped to her shoulders, and her skin was a milky white.

  “Pleased to meet you,” I said, forcing a smile.

  “Completely, sir.” She tossed back her hair. Was she in the loop? “Well, Miss Delacroix, follow me…”

  She took me to the back lot, where rows upon rows of cars sat, mocking me. Vincent didn’t follow us. I was at her mercy.

  “So…” I said quietly.

  “So?”

  “How much do you know about Vincent?”

  “You probably know more about him than I do.” She shrugged. “He’s one of the richest, most powerful men on the planet… He could have you killed with a snap of his fingers, probably. He’s hot, but I always thought he was gay…”

  “Oh?”

  “Before you, some guy was hanging off his arm. Dennis? Danny? I could never remember his name…”

  “Do you know what happened to him?”

  “It was all over the news,” she said, running her fingers through her hair. “They found his body on a San Francisco street.”

  “I see.”

  So that sealed it. He was dead.

  Daniel Sengupta. Forty-nine years old, and found dead on an SF street. What a way to go. It was all over the local news for weeks, and I’d heard something about it, but since I was trying to balance grad school and hiding Anthony’s abuse from everyone, I didn’t put two and two together.

  “There was a huge scandal, since they thought Mr. Aldana had gotten bored of him and killed him, but the coroners couldn’t find anything. Not a scratch on him, but it was like his body had just… stopped.”

  Stopped. Probably something supernatural killed him, then. If you could sling spells, you didn’t need to use a gun or a knife or poison to kill someone. I swallowed. And it could happen to me. I needed to get as powerful as possible as soon as possible to protect myself.

  “Anyway,” she said, her face pale, “we should start looking around… Is there anything in particular you wanted?”