Incubus Yule: A Christmas Interlude (The Incubus Series Book 4)

by A. H. Lee

  Tod rolled his eyes. “Can you get the blind open? If I change shape, I’ll be cold and naked.”

  “And hurt.”

  He is not going to forget about that.

  Mal dissolved into his human form. He’d given himself a heavy fur coat, weirdly reminiscent of his panther fur. He fumbled at the door to the little shed that they’d made into a hunting blind, searching for the handle amid the camouflaging branches. “Gods, it’s cold.”

  “Top of the mountain,” said Tod. “Elevation.”

  “Maybe.” Mal got the door open and they went inside. The interior of the blind was slightly warmer, with a few blankets, flasks of water, and snacks. Azrael had thoughtfully left water in bowls on the floor, as well. The surface had a thin rind of ice. Tod broke the ice and lapped it up.

  Mal seemed content to stay in human form for the moment. His dark curls made a mane around the high collar of his coat. He found a water flask and took a long drink.

  The wind, which had been dead-calm during their run, gusted suddenly, rattling the tree branches around their blind and sighing through the chinks. The temperature did seem to be falling. “Can you sense a barometric pressure drop?” asked Tod. “Like, before a storm? I think some animals can, but I don’t spend enough time as a wolf to know what it feels like.”

  Mal cocked his head. “I don’t think so. Or…maybe I can and I don’t know it. I should ask Lucy.”

  “She’ll know if anyone does,” agreed Tod.

  Mal unfolded all the blankets and made a nest beneath the peepholes on the wall facing the clearing.

  This is going to be the difficult part for you, thought Tod. Waiting.

  He came over and settled himself in the blankets a couple of feet from Mal. “Do you really think they’ll come?”

  Mal peered out at the clearing. “I don’t know. But they like the in-between times, and no time is more in-between than dawn of the solstice.”

  Tod stared at the clearing. The moon had set. The sky had started to lighten, although most of the stars were still visible. If he looked very carefully, Tod could just make out the spelled corn. It didn’t exactly glow, but it reflected the starlight to an unnatural degree—like diamonds on the frosty ground. The icy wind made a soft keening through the cracks of the blind. Its chill made his eyes tear up.

  “It’s getting colder,” said Mal with certainty.

  Tod fluffed his fur a little, the better to hold onto his body heat. He wrapped his tail around his haunches, and laid his head on his paws. He was surprised Mal had not elected to turn back into a panther. I wonder if he gets cold in any form.

  Mal seemed to be lost in thought. He lay on his stomach, propped on his elbows, chin in his hands, staring at the clearing as though he wasn’t really seeing it. Apart from the occasional gust of wind, the world was profoundly quiet. Not a bird or insect sang in the darkness. No deer or rabbits or foxes rustled in the leaves. It was the deadest part of the longest night of the year. Tod was starting to feel a little sleepy. How embarrassing would it be if we fell asleep and woke up to find the corn gone?

  “Tod?”

  Tod jerked guilty from a half-doze. “Hmm?”

  “Can I try something?”

  Tod looked over at Mal. He was still stretched out as a man. His green eyes reflected ambient light like the panther’s.

  “Coming from a bored incubus, that sounds ominous.”

  Mal smiled, his teeth flashing in the low light. “Not sex.”

  Tod was still wary. “What?”

  Mal reached out, giving him plenty of time to pull away, but Tod didn’t see the point. Mal wrapped an arm around Tod and then dragged the wolf over against his own body.

  Tod was not sure what to make of this. No one had ever handled him much as a wolf. He went rigid, but did not try to get away. Mal stroked his head and nose.

  “You know, it’s just me in here,” said Tod with irritation. “You would not rub my ears if I were a man.”

  “Oh, I would if you liked it,” said Mal. “Calm down.”

  “I’m calm. What do you want?”

  “Change shape,” said Mal.

  Tod went very still. “Mal…I don’t even change shape with anyone watching, much less…” Much less with someone holding me.

  “I know,” said Mal. His voice was as gentle as Tod had ever heard it. “Let me see.”

  “It’s disgusting.” Tod spoke before he could stop himself.

  “I’m an astral demon,” said Mal. “Your idea of disgusting and my idea of disgusting are different.”

  Tod shut his eyes, swallowed. I should tell him to fuck off. Another part of his mind whispered, Show him, and then he’ll stop harping about it.

  But can I? Tod really thought he might be too nervous to shift with someone touching him.

  He closed his eyes and tried to center himself. Shifting always felt like forcing his body through a sheet of broken glass, shredding skin and muscle and bone. He had to prepare, like a diver taking deep breaths before a plunge. To his surprise, Tod found the right mental state easily. “Alright,” he muttered without opening his eyes. “You asked for it.”

  Tod changed.

  Chapter 5

  Jessica

  Lucy had gone to have a rest before the coming festivities, leaving Jessica and Azrael alone in a kitchen that still smelled pleasantly of coffee and hollandaise sauce. Azrael had laid out ingredients and cooking supplies as though he were preparing materials for a spell. Jessica was not surprised to see a circle inked with runes beneath the mixing bowl.

  Azrael took the piece of paper on which he’d been drawing, examined it critically, then pricked his thumb with a paring knife. He rubbed a smear of blood onto the paper, activating the charm, which lit up with blue lines. Then he dropped the paper into the mixing bowl.

  Jessica sighed. On second thought, I’m not sure I need to know how the sausage is made. “Did you put blood in the hollandaise sauce, too?”

  “No,” said Azrael without taking his eyes off the bowl. “Please be quiet and pay attention.”

  Well, now he is treating me like Mal.

  Jessica jumped up to sit on one end of the counter, watching. Azrael struck a match and dropped it into the bowl on top of the paper, which went up with a whoosh and a shockingly high blue flame. The chalk circle around the bowel lit with lines of blue light.

  Jessica tensed as she felt the tug on her magic. He wasn’t taking much, but it was tightly focused. The sensation was a little like being fed on—a spreading warmth, a fuzziness around the edges of her vision. It was not unpleasant, but it did make her feel vulnerable. He could take it all, whispered a voice inside her. He could eat you up.

  Azrael made a noise of satisfaction as the circle lit. Carefully, without taking his eyes from the bowl, he lifted a plate of butter sticks from the counter and dumped them in. The bowl must have been warm from the magic, because the butter sizzled and began melting immediately.

  Jessica felt as though she’d taken a shot of whisky, like she was melting along with the butter. She was suddenly acutely aware of the open V of her dressing gown, the cool air against the skin between her breasts, the silky caress of the fabric over her nipples. Her crotch felt full and tight. Well, this is…not what I expected.

  Azrael was humming, low in his throat. It was spell-song—sounds no human voice should be able to make, strange and mesmerizing. Still focused on the bowl, Azrael reached around Jessica, his arm brushing hers, his rolled-up shirt sleeve trailing over her skin. Jessica shivered. Azrael lifted a small bottle that looked like it was made of stone. He uncorked it reverently over the mixing bowl and poured it slowly into the butter.

  The tug on Jessica’s magic increased and Jessica shut her eyes. She wanted to touch herself. She was not going to. Just because I’m a succubus, everything doesn’t have to be about sex. We are making cookies for gods’ sakes!

  “Jessica,” Azrael’s voice was soft and a little rough.

  She opened her eyes.
She knew she was flushed. She wondered if he was going to say something like, “Please pull yourself together. I wasn’t even taking much.”

  But he didn’t say that. His dark eyes were dilated. His mouth looked pinker than usual. “I know it’s intense. I’m putting a lot of power into something very small. It’s like pulling a river through a pinhole. But I can’t work if you don’t pay attention.”

  “Alright,” she managed. “Sorry.”

  He reached out and brushed her hand. Jessica thought she might climax right there. Calm the fuck down, she told herself. And then, No wonder Mal felt teased all those years. Gods.

  Returning his attention to the bowl and the stone jar, Azrael tipped the last of the amber liquid into the butter. It flowed like honey and Jessica could smell its enticing sweetness. Ambrosia. Undifferentiated magic. She could feed on it as easily as on a person. For a succubus, it was sex in a bottle.

  Ambrosia required considerable skill and effort to distill, and it was difficult to store in a stable form. It was quite valuable. This is Ren’s version of pulling out an expensive bottle of wine for friends.

  Putting ambrosia into cookies might be frivolous, but it obviously wasn’t easy. Jessica could feel the intensity of Azrael’s focus on the spell he was weaving. She could feel the magic like a taut line between them.

  Ever so carefully, he folded the amber liquid into the butter in the mixing bowl in the center of the circle. The combined odor was heady bliss. Our rooms will smell wonderful, at least.

  When he was satisfied, Azrael added the other ingredients—sugar, flour, eggs, vanilla, baking powder, a pinch of salt. Jessica watched his long, slender fingers moving. She’d always loved his hands—delicate and clever. Jessica had seen him make these particular cookies before. They were melt-in-your-mouth sugar cookies even without magic.

  Azrael kept stopping to do…something. Jessica could feel the increased tug on her magic, and the runes lit up each time. He’s making sure the ambrosia is still stable, she realized. Testing it.

  He seemed satisfied. At last, Azrael spooned the cookies onto a sheet, moving around Jessica as though she weren’t there and yet Jessica could sense his acute consciousness of her body like a caress. He slid two trays of cookies into the oven and then leaned against the counter, breathing deeply.

  “That was—” began Jessica and Azrael finally raised his eyes to look her in the face. He had points of color in his cheeks, a trace of flour in his black hair. His parted lips looked wet, his almond eyes the color of darkest chocolate.

  Jessica grabbed him by the lapels and kissed him.

  Chapter 6

  Tod

  Tod opened his eyes. “What the fuck?” He rolled over and tried to sit up, still with Mal’s arms around him. Tod stared at his hands. His human hands. “It didn’t hurt,” he whispered. Shifting had never not hurt. It had been easier on that day last fall when he’d spit out his inhibitor, but it had never not hurt.

  Tod tried to speak again, but his teeth were starting to chatter. “What did you d-d-do to me?”

  Mal was laughing. “Sorry, I forgot you can’t make clothes. You should change back before you freeze.”

  “Give me a minute.” Tod ran a shaking hand through his tangled red hair. Now he really was too distracted to find his center. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

  Mal pulled him back down among the blankets, and Tod allowed himself to be drawn. He didn’t even struggle when Mal folded his fur coat around them both. This was much warmer. “What did you do?” Tod demanded.

  “I pulled on your magic,” said Mal, his laugh a rumble. The coat was lined with fur on the inside as well as on the outside and it whispered over Tod’s skin. “I thought it might make the shift go faster, maybe easier.”

  “You fed on me?” asked Tod in confusion.

  “A little. I was pulling pretty hard for a second. I wanted to see if I could…pull you through the shift.”

  “I guess you can,” whispered Tod. He knew he sounded like an idiot. He couldn’t help it. “That might be the most amazing thing you have ever done to me.”

  Mal huffed. “Clearly, you have not had one of my blow jobs in a while.”

  “No, I suppose I haven’t.”

  “You want one?”

  Tod turned to face him. They were lying more or less on their sides. More hesitantly, Mal added, “I promise not to be an ass about it.”

  A voice in Tod’s head whispered, Do not let him get under your skin. Never again.

  Another voice said, What the hell? It’s Yule. Tod kissed him. Mal kissed back—hard and hungry, his short beard an alien combination of soft and prickly. One hand cupped Tod’s cheek, the other wrapped around him and slid down his back.

  Tod felt that warm, melting sensation in the pit of his stomach. He’d mistaken it for love once. He knew better now. An astral incubus feeding. A note of sarcasm: He didn’t eat breakfast, remember? But it felt so good. “Mal,” he muttered, “you are a fucking drug.”

  Mal laughed and pushed Tod all the way onto his back. He kissed his way to the hollow of Tod’s throat, the weight of his body creating exquisite tension. He was still wearing all his clothes. They weren’t real, but they felt real—warm fabric moving over Tod’s skin. “You know,” said Mal against his neck. “Yuli likes it when boys kiss.”

  Tod gave a nervous laugh. “I read part of one of her novels this summer. There was…a bit of that.” He gasped as Mal shifted so that he could stroke Tod’s cock with one hand. He leaned up on all fours, his eyes electric in the low light, and all of his clothes except the coat evaporated. Tod’s gaze slid over Mal’s body. The sight would not normally have produced a strong reaction in him—not like a woman’s body. Still, Mal was, by any definition, a specimen. He was an objectively beautiful creature, and Tod wasn’t too proud to admit it.

  Mal leaned over to kiss Tod’s stomach. He ran his tongue around his navel and then followed the trail of red curls lower. Tod shut his eyes and leaned his head back. The combination of the pleasure Mal was creating with his mouth and the warm rush of his feeding brought tears of pleasure.

  Mal’s hot mouth slid down over his cock, sucking and teasing, pausing to lick. He caressed Tod’s balls, cupping them. As the tension built, Mal pressed one saliva-slick finger inside him. Tod caught his breath. He would have been too embarrassed to ever ask for such a thing, but with Mal you didn’t need to ask. He just knew.

  Because he’s an astral incubus having a snack. Don’t forget that. Tod felt himself blush at the illicit feeling of penetration, but then Mal rubbed in just the right place, and Tod forgot to be embarrassed. He forgot everything.

  By the end, he’d given up all attempts at dignity. Tod buried his hands in Mal’s hair, whimpering, as his whole body clenched with the intensity of his climax. Mal moved back up beside him, still holding his cock. Tod was trembling all over. To his wonder and dismay, he was still hard. Jessica had done this to him once. It had made him sleep for a day. “Mal,” he muttered, crumpling against him, “it’s too much, too much…”

  Mal was rubbing their cocks together, and that did feel amazing. He leaned over and growled. “It’s too bad Yuli isn’t here. Watching me do this to you would make her so wet.”

  That did it. The pleasure crested through Tod again—hard and sharp and sweet—and Mal finished with him this time, one arm curling tightly around Tod’s shoulders.

  Tod wrapped both arms around Mal’s neck for a moment, panting. Yeah, I had forgotten what that felt like.

  Mal rolled onto his back and pulled Tod over against his chest. If he’d been a cat, Tod was sure he would have been purring. You probably would be a cat if you didn’t think I needed this coat.

  “Mal,” said Tod sleepily. “If you’ll do that…that thing again, I’ll change back into a wolf. It’ll be warm…er…” Tod raised his head and stared out of the blind. Dawn glowed around the rim of the horizon, but Tod’s eyes had been drawn by a nearer light. He stared in fascination as a swarm of enor
mous fireflies sailed around the clearing. They grew as he watched—balls of white light the size of a fist, with color dancing in their depths. They seemed to pulse as they whirled around the clearing. Beat, beat, beat…

  Tod thought of tiny stars, of beating hearts…of wings.

  “Mal!” he hissed. “Mal, get up, we’ve got to change. They’re here!”

  Chapter 7

  Jessica

  Azrael let out his breath in a rush. Then he was kissing Jessica back. His arms wrapped around her convulsively, pulling her tightly against him. He was standing between her legs where she sat on the counter, and Jessica wrapped them around his waist.

  Azrael’s personal wards lit up, crawling over his skin and clothes in lines of blue fire. Jessica realized she was pulling on his magic—or trying to. She attempted to stop, but it was difficult. Azrael certainly hadn’t stopped kissing her. She panted against his mouth, “Was that…winding you up…too?”

  “What do you think?” he growled. His wards gave an erratic flicker and went out.

  Jessica laughed breathlessly. They’d never actually fucked without Mal. They’d kissed, but not fucked. She hadn’t thought it would work. Magic is the best social lubricant, apparently.

  Azrael’s hands buried themselves in her wet hair, pushing the towel onto the counter. Jessica untied his apron from behind. She hooked a finger through the loop around his neck and paused to jerk it off over his head. She would have unfastened his trousers if she could have reached them, but their bodies were pressed too tightly against each other.

  Her robe had fallen open, and Azrael’s arms slid around her bare waist and back, pulling the length of her naked body against the warm fabric of his shirt, her wet crotch against the hard shape of his cock in his trousers.

  He started to unfasten his pants, still kissing her, then stopped. Azrael pulled back a fraction, as though suddenly uncertain about what he was doing. Jessica stared into his eyes. They were a little wild. “We are married,” he said almost apologetically.