by Shona Husk
He didn’t want to know hers.
He pulled away and made his way back to the bar. He needed another drink. No, he shouldn’t, because if he drank too much, he might lose control of the crowd. Their desire was already a heady beast. He wouldn’t need to feed again for days. He was full. His ley lines were bright, but he was still hungry. The lust in his blood hadn’t been sated, only provoked.
“Can I get water?”
“Done celebrating?” The woman behind the bar smiled at him, even though she knew what he was.
He shrugged, but returned her smile. It was easy to do. “Ever bitten off more than you can chew?”
He did eat actual food occasionally, but it didn’t do much for him, it was more of an emergency backup option if there were no people around.
She lifted her hands. “I came here voluntarily.”
“My tribe was nominated.” Leaving the tribe meant being alone, and no Incubus ever survived alone. They needed contact with people and their own kind. He couldn’t imagine not being with his people. To spend every night alone, to have no one understand what it was like to have people pull back when they realized what he was. It was why places like this with big crowds were better. The dark and disorientating lights also helped.
“So you didn’t want to come?” She put a glass of water on the bar.
“I didn’t mind. I figured it wouldn’t be any worse or better.” He studied her for a moment. Most humans stayed away from him. None had ever voluntarily started talking to him or being nice. Did she know about the money too? He hoped that she didn’t, and that she was talking to him because she liked him. That had suddenly become more important than anything else. He didn’t want his child’s host to be just anyone. “How come you are talking to me? Aren’t you afraid that I’ll touch you and suck you dry?”
Her lips twitched. “That’s not what you do.” She nodded at the crowd. “You did that so you could feed. They will leave buzzing and happy.” Then she leaned forward as she pushed the glass of water closer. “So how come you get the bad reputation when there are actual Vampires?” She touched his wrist band.
He should walk away and make the easy choice. The Selkie woman wanted him. No, she wanted the money and bragging rights. Some liked to be able to say they had survived a night with an Incubus. Selkie made good hosts. They were often used. Their dark eyes were the telltale mark left on the Incubi child. What traits would his child absorb from Human DNA?
“I’m a parasite. I’m not like the other Metas.” He downed the water and stepped back. The wristband wasn’t just because of the way they fed, it was because of the way they bred. “You don’t want to talk to me.”
“Maybe I do. Who are you?”
He hesitated. She wanted to know his name. “Kearn.”
“Phoebe,” she shouted.
Phoebe. Human. Bad idea.
His body thought Phoebe was the best idea he’d had all night. He did not like lust and the way it took control. Or the way his body was acting as though it belonged to someone else. The pulse in his belly hardened his phallus. If he didn’t mate tonight, it would only get worse until he’d be driven insane. He’d never believed those stories—now he could see how it was possible.
3
Phoebe watched as Kearn disappeared back into the crowd. While she might be immune to his power and the lust he was creating, she was not immune to the vibe in the club. She wanted…no she needed, more than her hand tonight.
She wanted him.
No. No, she didn’t. She should find herself another Human where she knew what she was getting. There were Humans here, but they were less than half the patrons. Maybe only a third. It was hard to tell when some Metas looked like Humans, or did Humans look like Metas?
By the time she finished work, it wouldn’t matter. It would be late, and she’d be too tired for anything. It was a familiar excuse.
Here she was, surrounded by aliens, living in a giant experimental city, and she was still too afraid to take the chance and date a Meta, or have a one night stand with one. She pressed her lips together as she poured more drinks. When this experiment ended, she was going to regret doing nothing while she had so many opportunities.
No more hiding with Humans.
She was hoping Kearn would come back and buy another drink, but she didn’t see him again. By the time everyone had left and she was closing up for the night—the cleaners would be in in the morning—all she wanted to do was go home. The public transport here couldn’t be faulted.
She waved goodnight to the bouncer, a literal giant, and walked toward the nearest zipper stop. Which wasn’t far. Halfway there, she realized that she was being followed. There were other people on the streets. Some Metas were nocturnal. Some Humans liked to party all night in the unofficial clubs. And some people were out late and up to no good, the same as any city.
Fear traced down her spine. Should she walk slower and let whoever was following go past, or be super obvious in their stalking, or speed up and look panicked?
She opted to slow down and rummage in her handbag for something that she could use as a weapon. She’d worked in enough bars before coming to Lorn to never leave home without something. She like carrying a fork these days. It was a legitimate object to carry because she often brought her own lunch, and yet it could be used to stab into all kinds of delicate body parts.
Her finger closed around the cool metal handle.
The footsteps drew closer. Whoever it was hadn’t slowed down. She whirled to face them, fork clasped tight in her hand, but still hidden by her bag. Kearn stopped. He was two yards behind her. The black of his clothing doing a good job of letting him blend with shadows, the bright lines on his skin making him stand out. There was no way she could’ve mistaken him for anything but Incubus.
Even though she knew who he was, her heart was still skipping around her chest on an adrenaline fuelled bender. She knew his name, but she didn’t know him.
He put his hands up and stepped back. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Really? You could have called out if you wanted me to wait.”
“I didn’t know if I wanted you to wait. Would you have waited if I had called out?”
“Maybe.” She kept her grip on the fork. “I thought you’d left the club.”
“I did and then I came back.”
What had the Selkie said? Something about this being the one night of the year Incubi had sex? Had he gone with the Selkie? “Done what you needed?”
Why did she care? It wasn’t like she was offering herself up for a night of hot sex. Was she? If she was going to dip her toes into the Meta pool, starting with an Incubus was probably like jumping into the deep and without learning how to swim first.
“No.” He sounded wary. “How much do you know?”
Not much. “That this is the night you have sex. Why only one night?”
“Because that’s the way our bodies work. I’ve never wanted it before. It’s all new.”
She was silent for a few heartbeats. He’d never wanted it before. “So you’ve never…”
“No.”
He’d never had sex. “Wow, your reputation is really underserved.”
He laughed. “No, it’s not. With just a nudge, I could’ve turned your bar into an orgy of pleasure. I could’ve ramped it up, and they would have kept going until they died of exhaustion. I can do that any day of the week, that I don’t participate doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it.”
Phoebe’s mouth opened. She shut it and stared at him. “You have that much power?”
He nodded, the blue glowing lines on his face illuminating his eyes then hiding them in shadow. “I can also start fights, but that’s rather dull and it makes a mess. Others like to feed off aggression.”
“You like pleasure.” The words slipped past her lips. Heat blossomed on her cheeks as she realized he must be getting a buzz from her.
“It feels nicer, warmer, and not as sharp.”
“You can
feel the difference?” She’d never stopped to think about it. Emotions weren’t something she’d ever sat down and analyzed, but then they weren’t her food. She certainly had her favorite foods, so why shouldn’t he?
“I feed on energy. Fear, pleasure, anger, sorrow. They all feel different.”
“So you can tell what someone is feeling.” He’d have tasted her fear as he’d approached. He must have known she was scared.
“I have to be touching someone to feed. I don’t know what the person is thinking.”
In the club when he’d been dancing he’d been feeding. “You ramped up the energy in the room, then danced and touched… you fed an all those people and they didn’t know.”
“Some did, but yes, I fed. I didn’t leave them weak and near death.”
“But you could.” Hadn’t there been an incident a while ago where an Incubus had created an orgy in a nightclub? She’d thought it an urban legend.
“I could, but it’s not in my best interest to kill those that I feed off, is it?” He’d stepped closer while they’d been talking.
Phoebe stepped back, her hand tight around the fork. “So why did you follow me?”
He could’ve had anyone in the club. She was sure that he could’ve gone home with a group and spent the night in a pleasure-fueled fucking frenzy, thus living up to the debauchery that was synonymous with Incubi.
He smiled, and it was clear that he thought she might be up for discovering how well his kind deserved their reputation on at least one night of the year.
She might be immune to the lust he could create, but she wasn’t immune to his smile, or her own curiosity.
It would’ve been smarter to go with one of the willing women from the club. A Meta that was known to be a good host. Instead, Kearn was making things harder for himself—truthfully, he didn’t think he could get any harder. His phallus was like steel and the heat had become a burn. All he could think about was having sex. It was consuming him. His body was no longer the one he was familiar with. All he could rely on was instinct.
“In the club, no one cared what my name was, only what I could do for them.” Those that knew what he was either turned away or started thinking of the money. Only Phoebe had asked his name. “You were interested in me.”
“Maybe I’m just friendly.” There was a wariness on her face. Her lips were pressed together not smiling, and her brown eyes were unreadable.
Had he read her wrong? That was entirely possible. He’d never done this before—and wasn’t sure that he wanted to do it again. The need to mate was twisting in his belly. Had anyone ever died from not mating? He didn’t want to be the first to find out. One night was almost gone…by tomorrow he’d be helpless to control the need burning in his body. Incubi had definitely lost all sense by stalling. He didn’t want to be a slave to instinct. He wanted some semblance of control.
His body was warming, even standing here he was too hot. He wanted to go back to the coolness of his accommodation dome, but in that area of the Complex he’d only find people who wanted the money, not him. This had to mean something.
“I’ll go if that’s what you want…” He didn’t want to go.
Phoebe’s gaze slid over his body. “You really only get one night a year?”
“Yes, and I want to spend it with you.” From anyone else that would have been such a bad line. He’d heard plenty of bad pickup lines when he went to clubs to feed. He’d deliberately gone to a club that he’d never been to before.
“And you’ve really never had sex before?”
He nodded. He didn’t know how he’d never wanted it before when it was all he could think about now.
She studied him for a moment. “So how do you pull off one night of lust when you don’t know what you are doing?”
That was a very good question. “I don’t know. Want to find out?”
She pulled her hand out of her handbag. His fingers curled slightly and his knees bent a little, ready to fight if he needed to. But her hand was empty and she was holding it out to him. “My place?”
“Unless you want a whole bunch of curious Incubi looking at you, that would be for the best.” He did not want to be taking her to his place. He had a room, but all the Incubi lived close together and they would be wanting to know who he’d chosen as the host. She knew he was a parasite, and had agreed to take him home.
He reached out and took her hand.
Her body tensed. “You aren’t feeding on me are you?”
“No. I don’t feed on everyone I touch. I swear I won’t feed on you tonight.”
She glanced at him. “Okay. Would I know if you were?”
“No, not until you were drained of all emotion.” He liked to feed in crowds, so no one questioned the occasional bump. “I’m not hungry.”
They walked the rest of the way to the zipper stop hand in hand. The warmth of her skin seeped into his body. They passed a few people, most of whom didn’t give them a second glance.
“Don’t you like your own kind?” One man called out from the front of a bar. He had a drink in his hand.
Phoebe flinched, and so did Kearn. The man could see Kearn as he truly was. He went to let go of her hand. Maybe it would be best if he did choose a Meta. He didn’t know much about Humans, and this was a risk. If there was no baby, he couldn’t fight next year, and already he was thinking of fighting again, if only to make sure Tavor didn’t win.
Her finger curled tighter around his. “There’s always people like that. Some Humans came here, but are deliberately keeping away from Metas. Kind of defeats the purpose of the experiment.”
He totally agreed. Maybe it wasn’t just the Incubi who were not giving their all to this experiment. “Do you regularly hang out with Metas?”
“I work in a bar, so of course I do.” They reached the station and got into a zipper. She input their destination. She glanced up at him. “But I’ve never taken any home or gone home with any.”
“Why?” Why him, and why tonight? Maybe she wasn’t as immune to the lust he could create as she thought she was.
“Why what? Why haven’t I dated any? I guess it took me a while to get brave enough to cross that line. What about you? Do you date other Metas?”
He frowned, but knew what she meant. “No. We are tolerated. Our history is…messy.”
“Oh. You used to whip up frenzies to kill?”
How had she worked that out so fast? Maybe she did know all about his kind. “They used to hunt us, but unlike other feeders, we can create mass hysteria.”
History was littered with accounts of whole villages being wiped out, but it had only been done after many Incubi had been killed. For a parasite, killing a host was a suicidal move.
“At least you didn’t nuke your entire planet. Humans fought with each other for millennia.” The zipper started moving. They were the only people in the ten-seater vehicle.
He hadn’t paid any attention to where they were going. He didn’t care as long as it was with her. Even though he didn’t need to feed, he wanted to be touching her. The ache was back in his skin. The need to touch and be touched, but this time it ran deeper and demanded more.
What would it be like to kiss her?
He’d kissed other Incubi, but only out of affection, not lust. He’d shared a bed with other Incubi, but there had been nothing sexual about it, it had been simply about needing the touch of another. Would his friend Levit be sleeping alone tonight or would he have wanted the comfort of another? Part of him wanted to go back and share the experience, part of him was already thinking that he didn’t want to share this with anyone. Tonight was his, and only his, not for the whole clan.
“Everyone fights…civilization is a veneer.” Phoebe stared at him and he wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. “Not that I think we should encourage fighting, but it needs an outlet. A healthy outlet.”
She was still staring at him. “And you fight?”
How much did he reveal about his life? He couldn’t l
ie. “I train at the Uni Fight Gym. It’s a gym that teaches all different styles of fighting.”
“Right.” There was a subtle pulling away, a loosening of her fingers around his, and he could feel her desire ebbing. “What do you do again?”
“Life Support Engineer.” He smiled. No one suspected that he’d do anything like that. Most seemed to expect that parasites would be rubbish collectors or janitors, as though they couldn’t possibly be smart enough to do anything else. Without people like him, life in the Complex would be nearly impossible.
“That’s a pretty important job. Where do you even study for that?”
“I went to college, the same as plenty of people. Just because we’re shunned doesn’t mean the government can discriminate and ban us an education. We can work in environments that many other Metas can’t. The cold doesn’t affect me, but excess heat does.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “So you get sent on polar explorations?”
He shook his head. “An Incubus on their own soon dies. But quite a few of us worked on the spaceships. That’s what I did before coming here.” There’d always been a minimum number of Incubi crew required so that there would be enough to make a small clan. Ten had been discovered to be ideal, any less than that, and Incubi struggled. For every Incubi, there needed to be at least a hundred other people. There was always more than that on a large ship. “What about you?”
“Business management. I run the bar, but one of my staff went home sick so I filled in. I wasn’t meant to be serving up beers.”
“I’m glad you were.” He offered his hand and hoped that she’d take it.
Her fingers brushed his palm, tracing over a glowing blue line. “What are these?”
“Ley lines. It’s how I feed.” He expected her to pull away, but she didn’t so he continued with his explanation. “I feed by touch, these lines absorb energy and send it all over my body.”
“Like veins carrying blood.”
He nodded. “I have them too.”
