Incubus Master: Complete (Yaoi)

by Yamila Abraham

  Damn. He hoped Figaru wasn’t in danger. There was nothing he could do but start the long journey home.

  Chapter 20

  When Figaru got to his house the next day he found Vandrel sitting in front of his door. He was slumped down with his knees close to his chest. He lifted weary eyes towards Figaru.

  “I’ve done something terrible.”

  Figaru breathed in deeply and then out through his nostrils. He extended a hand to help Vandrel to his feet. The demon accepted it without looking at him.

  He brought Vandrel to his large kitchen table and sat across from him. The general sat sideways. He leaned one elbow on the table and faced the wall. His posture was still slumped.

  “Swan was here. She took Rowan.”

  Figaru concentrated.

  “Leatha said she broke the blood chain as though it were nothing.”

  A pang of dread struck Figaru’s insides. “Leatha was there?”

  Vandrel nodded. He had difficulty forming the next words. “He…Rowan…told Swan to kill her.”

  No.

  “She didn’t do it.” He swallowed. “Swan said the goddess Galla was going to turn Rowan into an incubus who could drink the essence of the shards. He’d become mighty enough destroy his own enemies. Even…even someone as powerful as you.”

  Figaru closed his eyes. This would be the end of Rowan. He’d already lost him, hadn’t he? There was no sense in grieving now. Not unless he’d still held out hope for his son. The emotion welling in his breast was devastating.

  Vandrel shifted in his seat. “Swan flew away with him.” He sat up more. “I…I put a message on Jinady’s flesh. Rowan wrote it.”

  “Are you deceiving me, Vandrel?” His voice was wavering. He hated for Vandrel to hear his anguish. “Is this another one of Rowan’s schemes?”

  Vandrel’s lower lip trembled. “You still love him—after everything he’s done to you?”

  Figaru closed his eyes.

  “He did it to himself this time,” Vandrel said. “No one can take the blame for him. Rowan made his own choice.”

  Figaru couldn’t move. He didn’t want his general to see him weep. He forced his words to steady. “Bring Leatha here.”

  “You still doubt me? I can’t bring her. I put a sleeping spell on her. She would have gone after him otherwise.”

  Figaru put his face in his hand. The tears came. He could no longer check his emotion. He should have foreseen this. The taint in Jinady’s aura—he should have realized it was a message. He’d failed Rowan again.

  “I just wanted for Swan to take him away. I never…I would have never…”

  Figaru struggled to form words. “I forgive you, Vandrel.” This wasn’t his general’s fault. It was his own, and it was Rowan’s.

  Vandrel waited as Figaru wept. When his mournful eyes fixed on him he spoke. “He’ll be as powerful as Swan, Figaru.”

  “It won’t matter.”

  “Because you’re resigned to die? He won’t stop with just you.”

  “Was any of the chain still left in his neck?”

  Vandrel swallowed. “I don’t know. Does that matter? Tell me how to stop him. You won’t even have to see it.”

  Figaru lifted his face from his hand. He kept his eyes downcast. “I’m the only one who can kill him. No one else may be there.”

  “I’m going to be whether you want me or not.”

  “Then hold back Scor.”

  Vandrel had been ready to argue. The sharp words made him purse his lips. “Scor broke through the fence we built at the last shardless border in his beast form.”

  “I assumed as much.” He drew a long breath. “Don’t kill him unless you have to.”

  “Of course I’ll have to.”

  “He may surprise you, Vandrel.”

  Vandrel’s brow furrowed.

  “Clear the path from the west. The border guards, the farmers along the road. Don’t leave anyone in their wake. Make sure—“ Figaru stopped as though a switch had been flipped.

  Jinady.

  Vandrel read his thoughts without the need for magic. “He’ll be back before they can catch him, Figaru. They’re in no rush. You’re the one Rowan wants.”

  Figaru eyed him.

  He rose from his seat. “I’m in this with you. I know I can’t make amends. I’ll still stand by you. I’ll never be disloyal again. I swear it, Figaru.”

  He said nothing as Vandrel left.

  Jinady kicked sand into a dying campfire. He’d slept through frigid cold at the site where the juvenile spikey had pestered him. The middle of his chest glowed through all his layers of clothing.

  He knelt to secure his pack. The ground shuddered under his knees. Jinady kept still until he felt it again. Now he heard a rumble. He rose and stepped to the hillside trail. There was a distant explosion of a tree being smashed.

  Scor?

  He heard and felt the massive demon’s gallop continue up the trail toward him.

  But…he couldn’t come near him, could he? This glow in his chest was a shard. Why would he try to—

  Scor’s hideous monster form strode into view. He ran with such speed that the momentum brought him within 10 yards of Jinady, even though he was snarling in pain. He flung back as though he’d been blasted. His form shrank to his more human seeming as he crashed into dirt. Scor covered his eyes with both hands and writhed in pain.

  “Jinady!” His scream was horrifying. “Get away! You’re killing me!”

  Jinady moved without thinking. He muffled the light of his chest into the nearest pine. He peered around it to see Scor no longer thrashing in pain. The nude demon lay on his stomach with his back heaving.

  Scor looked over his shoulder at him with teeth bared. They were close enough to hear each other without shouting.

  “The fuck is wrong with you?”

  “You shouldn’t have come after me.”

  His furious face gave Jinady a shudder. The skin between his brow was folded into a ridge. “I wasn’t coming for you, boy. Be glad I can’t get near you right now.”

  Jinady swallowed. “Then why--?”

  Scor stood, no longer seeming to care. “Another time, princess.” He brushed billows of dust from his bare thighs. “You better be nicer to me during the shit-storm later. It’ll save your life.”

  Jinady’s eyes widened.

  Scor leapt forward with his arms outstretched in front of him. Before he touched the ground he’d transformed back into a monster. He galloped up the hill past him.

  Jinady took slow steps back to his pack. The words echoed in his mind. He couldn’t focus on tearing down his camp. Every few moments his thoughts raced. He forced himself to stop thinking and hoisted his gear on his back. He set off as fast as he could go without running.

  It took stumbling on a tree root for Jinady to realize he’d gone the entire day without eating. He pulled hard bread from his sack without rising from the ground. His mouth was dry. He’d failed to take water the last few hours as well. As he untied the canteen from his pack his left calve cramped. Jinady flexed while downing half his supply of water. He’d already passed the brook where he should have refilled it. The sun had lowered past the tree line. Jinady pulled out the day’s rations and hoisted his pack back onto his shoulder. He ate while continuing onward at a less brisk pace.

  He passed the second camp site without stopping. The glow from his chest lit the path after the sun set. He forced himself to stop for water at the next source.

  When he sat at the brook side he could not will his body to rise again. He lay back on damp grass and slept. The sun piercing his eyelids woke him the next morning. It was high in the sky, so he’d slept past morning. Jinady splashed cold water on his face. He sped back to the path, and onward down the last sloping hills.

  Scor didn’t stir when Galla scooted off the bed beside him. He watched her exit the chamber into the hallway without bothering to garb herself. The door was left open. Scor covered his bare crotch with a blanke
t.

  A glowing swan shard was on an ivory nightstand to his left. He glided a clawed hand over a facet. There were colored vessels of scented oils below it. Scor sniffed one.

  “The shards can’t hurt you now?” Rowan said.

  Scor’s eyes widened before he turned. It was the familiar voice of his lover, but deeper, and with demonic undertones. He looked toward the domed threshold.

  “Fuck. You look just like Figaru.”

  “I want to look like him now.” Rowan strode into the room on massive black hooves. “I want everyone to know he’s being killed by his own son. That’s how terrible he is.”

  Scor halfway nodded his head without taking his eyes off Rowan. His horns were smaller than Figaru’s, and he didn’t have the pointed ears or tail. He was now larger than Scor, but would still be smaller than his father. He wore a thin shirt of black silk that allowed the definition of his chest and torso to show through. He had gauntlets on his shoulders similar to his father’s, though the cape draping behind him was blue instead of the color of wine. He wore dark pants with flared cuffs opening at his hooves. His hair was uneven amber strands that just touched his shoulders. Part of the blood chain was still rooted in his throat. The six links went from the side of his neck to a jewel in his earlobe.

  Scor gave a half smile. “Not bad, kitten.”

  Rowan came to the bed. “I don’t really care what you think.” He sat beside Scor with his back against the headrest.

  “Yeah, yeah. It’s all about impressing daddy.” Something in Rowan’s eyes made Scor look away from him.

  “This bed smells like sex. Why’d you come up here? You were supposed to wait for me in the woods.”

  “Galla floated me up. Guess she was horny. Now I get to be immune to the shards. You absorb them for energy, right? I won’t have to hide every time you take out your lunch.”

  Scor tugged the leftover blood chain in Rowan’s throat with a claw. He sneered at it. Rowan pushed his hand away.

  “You didn’t have to sleep with her. I could have made sure she took care of you.”

  He narrowed his eyes and smiled. “She did.”

  The strike was too fast and unexpected for Scor to brace against. Rowan’s hand slammed against his cheek flipping him from his back to his stomach. Scor lifted himself with one arm, taking a moment to realize what happened. Three drops of blood splattered the sheets.

  “Graah!” He propelled himself at Rowan with splayed claws.

  He was knocked back with a slight move of his arm. This time Scor tumbled all the way off the bed.

  He cracked his jaw back into place while kneeling on the floor. This wasn’t good. Rowan couldn’t deal with that much power.

  There was the sound of fast hoof beats. When he came around the bed Scor speared his head into Rowan’s middle. It was as though he hit stone. He rebounded back onto the mattress.

  “Fuck!” Scor felt his smarting head but kept his eyes on Rowan. He was holding one of Galla’s vessels of scented oil. Scor growled while baring a sharp incisor. He aimed his kick for Rowan’s groin.

  Rowan caught his ankle with his free hand and flashed a look of anger. He flipped Scor onto his stomach.

  “Son of a whore!” Scor said.

  Rowan pinned his arms behind him. He was bent over the foot of the bed with his bare ass at Rowan’s crotch. The novice demon kept Scor’s wrists restrained with one hand, and uncorked the vessel with the thumb of his other. A jasmine scented stream poured into Scor’s ass crack.

  Scor used all his strength to test his hold. He couldn’t budge.

  “You rape me and it’s over, Rowan! I’ll keep fighting you until one of us is dead!”

  Rowan leant over him, bracing himself on the hand at Scor’s back. He brought his lips close to Scor’s ear.

  “It is over.”

  Scor flared his nostrils. He blamed Figaru for the pain that struck his insides. He’d never been capable of having his heart broken back when he was a Reever.

  “Me being your play thing is over.”

  Scor kept still and listened.

  “I’m more powerful than you now, more powerful than Figaru even. It’s going to be different between us. I’m running things now.”

  “You always were,” Scor said in an even tone.

  “Don’t try to sweet talk me. I know how you are.” He released his wrists. “Don’t move.”

  Scor brought his arms down to his sides, but remained in the prone position. He heard the shifting of fabric.

  “I’m in charge and you’re my second. You got that? From now on you’re below me.”

  He felt the tip of Rowan’s oiled cock press against the outer ring of his hole. His hands rested on his ass cheeks, parting them. Scor’s head was turned to the side but his eyes were obscured from Rowan by his hair. He stared outward at nothing. A moment passed with Rowan primed to enter him.

  “Well?”

  Scor closed his eyes. “Do it.”

  Rowan pushed into him. Scor grimaced.

  “Oh yes—yeah!”

  He was opened too fast. The enormous member made him feel skewered to the bed. Rowan kept still long enough for Scor to notice the weakness spreading through his legs and lower back. He would have rather been stabbed in the gut. There was nothing more conquering than intimate pain.

  Rowan began clumsy thrusting. There was no exchange of magic that Scor could sense. Galla left Scor too spent for any arousal. His muscles grew tense, and he ground his teeth. Imagining it was Figaru instead of Rowan made it easier. Just as the fantasy began to stir his tender cock Rowan ejaculated with shuddering moans.

  He yanked out of him almost fast enough to turn him inside out.

  “Ungh!”

  Rowan redid his pants. “I just had an idea. Let’s get some jewelry for you too. A nice shiny amulet. Where did that whore goddess go?”

  Scor didn’t move as he left the room. He didn’t know what Rowan was talking about, and couldn’t muster the will to care. In time, he sat up and slowly edged off the bed. After several moments of thought he followed after Rowan.

  Chapter 21

  It was thunder storming outside. Every boom in the sky sounded like Scor crashing through trees. Jinady sat up in the foreign bed he’d been assigned the day before. There was no hope of sleep despite the exhaustion he felt through his muscles.

  When he’d finally gotten back to the camp he found it more desolate than the ruins he’d traveled through. There were no humans or demons to be seen. He searched the training area, then ran through the mess hall. In a panic he screamed Figaru’s name in the middle of the main road. Major came out from no where and grabbed his arm. He scolded him while racing to a building on the fringe of the camp Jinady had never noticed before.

  Sister City was a row house twice as large as the mess hall. There was a network of rooms inside that buzzed with female voices.

  One of the women was able to pull the shard out of him with her hands. A glowing ember remained lit in his chest.

  Major and Yeoman spoke with him. He told them about the message and Scor. Major interrupted. They knew. Figaru knew. All that mattered was that he was back safe. He was told not to worry.

  He was abandoned to one of the small bedrooms after that. He had a heavy curtain rather than a door. Jinady couldn’t fathom why. If the thunder wasn’t enough to keep him awake the women’s chattering certainly did. They yelped and giggled after the thunderclaps.

  Jinady was no longer fascinated by their kind. He missed Figaru’s sublime embrace.

  He fell asleep without trying despite the noise. Something jarred him awake, and also got him to his feet. He stood half awake a moment until he realized he heard screaming. He ran into the corridor.

  Scor stood a few feet from him. Jinady had a moment of dizziness at the sight of him, as though he were going to faint. The demon slammed shut a door he’d just opened and stared at him.

  “There you are.” His yellow hair was damp. He wore dusty green pants a
nd had a glowing white amulet hanging on a chain in the middle of his chest.

  Jinady didn’t move. He was eyelevel with Scor’s necklace. The demon took it in his hand.

  “It’s a swan shard.”

  Jinady looked down. The words, ‘I see,’ were on his lips, but he couldn’t form them. Scor was immune to shards now. Figaru couldn’t save him.

  Thunder roared. A woman took advantage of the noise to open her door and peek out. Jinady saw her with his peripheral vision past Scor. He kept his eyes downcast.

  Scor didn’t look back. “Mind your business, whore.”

  The door slammed. Jinady bit his lip. The women were more valuable than him. He forced himself to turn away from Scor and start walking towards the back door.

  Scor followed him. “Where are you going?”

  Jinady went outside. He started walking toward the tree line. The rain drenched him in moments. He could barely hear Scor’s exasperated swear. A large clawed hand his arm. He was pulled at a fast march around Sister City toward the camp. Dual glows lit their way through the pelting night rain. Scor stopped at a cabin Jinady was unfamiliar with and kicked open the door. He threw him inside.

  Jinady caught himself on the solitary bed in the room. It was larger than the soldier bunks. The door closed sealing out the noise of the rain. Jinady could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Scor sat on the bed beside him as Jinady remained motionless.

  “Rowan ordered me to rape you.”

  Jinady swallowed.

  “He wanted me to do it in front of Figaru. That’s not my style.”

  His voice sounded alien to him. “Get it over with.”

  Scor laughed. “Listen to you. How fucking brave. What? Did Figaru lay you already? Do you figure you can take my cock easy after he stretched you out?”

  Jinady wanted to cry. It seemed like an eternity since held felt that lump of pain in his throat. Things had gotten good for him.

  Scor reclined on the bed. “Naw, relax, I ain’t going to fuck you.”

  Jinady looked at him. Scor turned to meet his eyes. His face was somber.

  “It’s bad, kid. It’s got to be bad if I pick Figaru’s side over Rowan.”