by SF Benson
Cold, prying fingers jolt me awake. At first, I think it might be JJ, but then I see it. A sinister shadow detaches itself from the dark and creeps closer to the bed. Fear coils around me. I can’t breathe. The dark figure holds its head back, and mocking laughter fills my mind.
It’s a dream, I tell myself.
You know that I’m not, says the Night Terror—a unique spirit sent to vex souls. Its dark tendrils reach toward me.
My heart hammers in my chest. Getting away from the wretched creature is all I want to do. I curl into a ball, and the bed creaks beneath me as every muscle in my body quivers.
Another successful job, the spirit mumbles. “See you tomorrow night.
The Night Terror merges into the inky darkness that birthed it. My breathing saws in and out, but my mind won’t rest. As often as my father’s oppressors have plagued me, I should be used to this by now. But I’m not.
I’ll never be.
At some point, I must have drifted off. The smell of freshly brewed coffee tickles my nose while the clatter of silverware greets my ears. My eyes pop open, and I stare at the ceiling. It takes a moment to realize where I am and who I’m with.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I stagger into the kitchen.
“Sleep well?” JJ asks.
A sarcastic reply dangles on the tip of my tongue. Usually, I’m a grumpy fucker in the morning, but JJ doesn’t deserve my negativity. He has no idea the level of my distress. He has no clue one of Father’s ghouls invaded his apartment.
Swallowing the retort, I stick to a lie. “It was okay.”
“I’m sorry it wasn’t to the king’s liking.” His answer, unlike mine, is full of mockery.
“What makes you think I’m used to finery?” I take a seat at the kitchen table.
JJ stops mixing whatever’s in the bowl and looks up. “Have you listened to yourself? No one says finery.”
Not wanting to deal with ridicule from a stranger, I push the chair back and stand. “Allow me the use of your shower, and then I’ll go.”
JJ leans against the counter. “Did I strike a nerve?”
There’s a vein pulsing at my temple. A sign that this isn’t worth the hassle. Contrary to my original opinion, he isn’t worth it. I can afford a few nights at a hotel. Maybe all I need is a few days. I’ll return to Falls Creek ready to face…
What exactly? More of the same damned shit? If I can’t do this, I might as well start training to take over for Grandfather. Allow Mother to find me the perfect female match and live my life according to another’s standards. I. Can’t. Do. It.
“No. I…uh…need—”
“The first thing you need to know about me,” JJ interjects, “is I don’t sugarcoat shit. If I have anything to say, I’ll tell you. Now sit down. Breakfast will be ready soon.”
The smell of melting butter hits my nose. My traitorous stomach grumbles its approval as JJ returns to his mixing bowl. Slowly, I sit down.
“You’re not used to anyone cutting through your bullshit,” JJ states and pours the contents of the bowl in the sizzling skillet.
“I don’t do bullshit.” My voice sounds like that of a petulant child. I hate it when people point out my flaws, especially when they’re right.
“Yeah. Mm-hmm. It takes a special person to believe their own crap. I bet you’re a rich kid from a small town up north. Your father pissed you off, and you ran away from home.”
My eyes widen while my fist clenches beneath the table. JJ pretty much summed up my situation, give or take a few details—like the constant demonic torture.
“He didn’t piss me off,” I correct as JJ sets a plate of scrambled eggs in front of me. “It’s more like what my father’s done to me.”
Truth.
JJ freezes in his tracks and stares. His mouth drops open. “Damn, man. I’m sorry. I assumed… Hey, if your old man was abusing you, you were smart to leave.”
Abuse.
That’s exactly what humans would call my father’s ill-treatment of me. A punch or two would be easier to take than having him in my head day and night. Each time the Night Terror arrives, it leaves behind a tendril of darkness. If I close my eyes for too long, it blossoms into a full nightmare.
JJ dumps the skillet in the sink, grabs two mugs from an overhead cabinet, and pours coffee. He places the steaming, fragrant cup on the table. “I usually drink mine black, but I have milk if you want it.”
“This is fine.” Maybe it’s time I take my coffee straight like the truth of my screwed-up life. I take a sip and grimace. Nope. Certain things need to be doctored to go down smoother.
JJ laughs and opens the fridge. He passes me a carton of two percent, and I pour a generous amount in my cup. Thankfully, we eat in silence.
Once I’m finished eating, JJ gathers up my dirty dishes.
“I can help with that,” I offer.
“Have you ever washed dishes, your Highness?” A hint of laughter rests in his voice.
After having coffee, thankfully, I’m no longer grumpy. Sauntering over to JJ, I say, “I’ll have you know I’ve done plenty of dishes. I used to live on my own.”
“Used to?” JJ glances at me. “What happened?”
I dunk my hands in the warm, sudsy water and swipe the sponge over a plate. “My father forced me to move back home.”
“You’re a grown ass man.” JJ picks up a drying towel. “How does a parent force you to do things?”
“Trust me,” I mumble. “He has his methods.”
It didn’t take much for Father to get me back home. His brand of persuasion is dark and intrusive.
“You’re coming home,” he screamed, pointing a finger in my direction. “I’ve had enough of your insolence. It’s time you learn, firsthand, what it means to be the son of The Najex.”
I laughed. “I’m not a kid anymore, Father. You can’t force me to do a thing.”
It felt liberating to finally stand up to him. Unfortunately, the moment didn’t last.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” His eyes glowed red as his hand curled.
Dark tendrils, like extensions of his fingers, stretched across the space between us. I tried to dodge them but couldn’t move. The strands pried through my flesh, entered my mind, and made themselves at home. An intense pain sent me to my knees and shook my skull. The intruder shuffled through my mind like a card dealer. Each layer he pulled apart, ripped a piece of my soul with it. My vision blurred. The words attempting to form in my mind unraveled as my quaking body collided with the floor.
“Continue to defy me, and there will be more,” Father warned.
The pain dissipated as quickly as it began. As soon as the trembling stopped, I staggered to my feet. “I’ll be home this evening.”
“See that you do.”
I went home, but the abuse only worsened—my reward for defying Father.
“Colton?”
As the memory fades, I notice the sponge in my clenched fist. My voice comes out sounding distant. Foreign. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
“Yeah.” JJ touches my arm, and the sponge slips from my hand. His voice is gentle as he says, “Go shower. Bathroom’s at the end of the hall. Bedroom is next to it. Take whatever you need.”
“Thanks.” Recalling my father’s harassment is as debilitating as the actual event. Pushing away from the sink, I drag my feet down the hall. Unfortunately, the pain follows me like a faithful puppy.
This is the pitiful life I’ve endured ever since the day I moved out. Any action Father deems as disobedient earns me more agony. Losing two powerful consort matches hasn’t helped the situation. Nothing I say or do pleases the beast. Father claims heaping on punishment after punishment will strengthen me. After all, it worked for my cousin Tiberius.
Father likes to hold up Tiberius as a fucking shining example. My cousin grew up under constant torture and ridicule. One day, he had enough and lashed out. Using his father’s methods, Tiberius imprisoned my uncle inside his own mind.
Uncle Claudius lives with us in an attic room. He’s unable to leave it. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t eat. He simply sits on a bed with obscene horrors playing nonstop in his mind—his own virtual hell. Despite it all, Grandfather won’t let Uncle Claudius perish. Grandfather will keep his son hanging on for eternity.
My father, so fucking proud of Tiberius, says Uncle Claudius was too weak and destined to fall. Father claims that his brother should have seen what was coming and prevented it. According to Father, no self-respecting incubus would allow himself to be controlled by another. I’ve already been forewarned not to even try Tiberius’s stunt, but it’s not like I’m planning on it.
I’ve never wanted to be as cruel as Tiberius and Father. Contrary to my lineage and family expectations, I suck as a demon. Fucking is the one thing I do well, but I haven’t enjoyed it in a while. Living at home, I had to be careful not to entertain any males. Sex became purposeful. Boring. Isolating. A tool to fulfill my need for energy.
Returning to that hell would be worse than the place I left days ago. If I fail… If my father finds me… My days and nights will be one endless struggle. Eventually, I’ll find myself up in that attic with Uncle Claudius. Death would be welcome.
A sudden influx of cold water shatters my brooding. Shutting off the shower, I lean my forehead against the cool tile. It takes a moment for me to focus and collect my thoughts before wrapping a towel around my waist. When I open the door to JJ’s still-dark room, my breath hitches. He’s sitting on the side of the bed, with his shirt off, talking on the phone. He lifts his head, and our eyes meet.
Fuck!
This man with his chiseled planes and contours is perfection personified. JJ’s not overly muscular—exactly the right amount along with veins popping on his arms. My fingers itch with the desire to trace their ropey texture. Shit, he’s drawing me in like a damned magnet, and I don’t want to fight the attraction, but if I stand here too long, I’m going to need another shower.
“Yeah. I have company.” He walks backward to a dresser and opens a drawer. “Naw. It’s cool. I’ll fill in for him. See you tonight.” JJ ends the call.
“Sorry.” I finally find my voice. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t.” He sets the phone on the dresser. “I have to work tonight.”
Water pools around my feet as I stand there like a fucking idiot. Is JJ telling me I need to leave? He tosses a pair of boxers at me, and I catch them in mid-air.
“You look like the boxer type,” he says. “I’m guessing you have no place to be. Is there anything you want to do? We could check around for apartments.”
My mind races as my dick stiffens. Wrong fucking question. In my former life, I’d waste no time getting this man into bed. I’ve always had a thing for the starving-artist types. But I’m not an incubus.
No, you’re not. You need to stop thinking about being an incubus.
I can’t read JJ to know whether he’s truly into guys. Contrary to the interest he showed at the bar last night, he’s not giving off any vibes today.
“Colton?”
Hell, I’m doing it again. I snap. “What?”
“You spend an awful lot of time stuck in your head.” He slides off his sweatpants.
Damn.
My chest tightens as my desire builds. The man is gorgeous. I know what I want, but for the first time, I’m at a loss. I back up into the hall, turn, and rush toward the living room.
Time surges forward before JJ comes out of his room. When he does, I’m dressed in my own clothes and standing in front of the window.
“Colton, what the fuck is going on in that head of yours?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
“Second thing to know. Don’t bullshit me. You have a problem being with…” His voice trails off. “Your father didn’t…”
I catch the implication and swing around. Father is a lot of things, but he’s never touched me in that matter. “No! Never!”
JJ crosses his arms. “Then what’s the problem?”
“Nothing.” The conversation deflates my erection better than a cold shower.
“Got a problem with me?”
I rake a hand through my messy hair. “Yes. No. Maybe.”
JJ’s voice remains calm as he asks, “What the hell does that mean?”
“I didn’t know how to react that’s all,” I admit.
His brow lifts. “Did I ask anything of you?”
“No.”
“Did I make a move on you?”
“No.” It would make things easier if he had.
“Then what?”
“Can we drop it?”
“No.” He sits on the sofa, which is still made up with sheets and a blanket. “I’m guessing people let you walk away from whatever makes you uncomfortable. Third thing about me, I don’t cater to anyone. If my questions disturb you, too damned bad.”
Taking a deep breath, I scrub my hands over my face. How is it that a stranger knows me so well? If this is part of being human—reading people—I’m failing. Miserably.
A little honesty might not hurt. “All my life I’ve never had to make choices. I’ve done what I’ve liked with whoever I liked. Now I have to choose.”
“Says who?” JJ shakes his head. “What’s changed?”
“Nothing’s changed.” I think about the reasons for Father’s persecution. “My family’s expectations are still the same. I’m supposed to marry the right female, produce offspring, and run the family business.”
What a way to whitewash my reality. But then again, I couldn’t quite tell him the whole truth. Would he believe me if I said I’m the fucking Prince of Hell? No one would believe I was created to populate the world with demons bent on destroying mankind. Let’s be honest. I still don’t believe that one, and it’s the reason why Lilin exist.
“That’s why you’re in New York?” JJ side-glances at me. “Trying to find the perfect woman?”
“Not hardly.” I don’t think JJ is the type to believe I’m a supernatural twist on Pinocchio. That’s a story best kept secret.
JJ leans against the cushion. “Do you even like women?”
“Of course, I like females!” I say with a little too much force. My voice drops when I say, “I like males, too.”
I’m waiting for JJ to flinch at my revelation. It doesn’t happen.
Instead, he says, “Want my opinion?”
Somehow, I feel he’ll give it anyway.
“I say fuck expectations. Do what makes you happy. Straight, gay, bi… None of that matters. Just be you.”
How could I tell JJ I don’t know who that is? It’s best to drop the subject for now. “You asked me if I had something I wanted to do. I need to go shopping.”
“Out of all the things you could do, you want to shop? To each his own.” JJ pushes to his feet. “C’mon. I think I can find a place you might like.”
An incessant buzzing grabs my attention. I glance down at the floor and see my phone screen flashing red.
“What the hell is that?” JJ asks.
Now how did he know the message was from Hell? I grab my phone and accept the call. Thankfully, I’m too late. Instead, a text message comes across. “Give me a minute?”
“Sure. Take your time.” JJ walks back to his room.
I tap the screen and pull up the message.
Ashmedai: colton, I realize it’s only been a day, but you should know that khan has contacted me. He’s furious about our little pact. I didn’t tell him where you went, but he’s looking for you. You should step up your plans. I’ll support you if you fulfill your end of our agreement.
I erase the message—no response necessary—and drop my head.
“Trouble at home?” JJ, wearing a leather jacket, sits beside me.
“Nothing new.” I side-glance at him. “Remember asking me if I’m running from something?”
JJ points to the phone. “Let me guess. Your father?”
“Exactly. If I can establish m
yself here in New York with a place to live and a job, my grandfather will run interference for me. But if I can’t—”
“Then your ass has to go home and deal with your father’s shit.” JJ’s jaw clenches.
“You said it.”
JJ pulls his keys from his pocket, slips one off the ring, and passes it to me. “You have a place to stay for as long as you need it.”
