I don't say anything as I think over his reply.
“Let me put it to you this way, if anyone ever threatens you, or if you're ever in some sort of danger, Roman will be the first in line to take care of the situation. When that one gets riled up, it's not pretty. He's very protective of those he cares about, and I can tell you right now that he cares about you,” Trace tells me with absolute conviction.
I look at him, slightly taken aback by his announcement. “You think so?”
Trace nods firmly.
A sigh escapes me as I toss away the blade of grass that I'd been mutilating. “I just want to be normal again.”
“You'll never be normal by human standards,” he tells me kindly. “But look at it this way, a whole new world has opened up to you. Explore it and get a feel for it. You might just like it, Livvy.”
My face scrunches up. “I have to feed off someone else's energy. I'll never like that part of it. It's not right.”
“Right or not, it's the way it is. Best not to dwell on it too much, or it's just going to make things harder in the long run,” he warns.
“Easy for you to say,” I mutter as I fight back a yawn that comes out of nowhere.
“Did you get much sleep last night?” Trace asks, switching the topic.
“I tried,” I admit. “I couldn't stop thinking about Brad.”
Regret flickers across Trace’s features. “I was afraid of that.”
“I'm the one who wanted to know,” I point out.
“Why don't you take a nap,” he suggests.
“Here?”
“I won't go anywhere. Unless you'd rather go back to the estate.”
I shake my head. “I feel suffocated there.”
“Take a nap. I'll watch over you,” he promises.
I look at him tentatively. “Will you hold me?” It might be a bit forward of me, but I just want to feel safe and secure for a while, and Trace seems to be the only one I want to be around at the moment.
His eyes scan my face. “If that's what you'd like.”
I nod.
“Let me lean against the tree,” he suggests as he rises to his feet.
Trace takes my place and holds his arms wide open for me. Without any hesitation, I sit down with my back to his chest. His arms wrap around me and I get comfortable, my head resting on his shoulder. His scent sweeps over me, and I can feel my body humming to life from his nearness, but I ignore it as I force my body to relax. His encircling embrace brings me comfort.
“Trace?” I murmur as I close my eyes.
“Hm?”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime, Livvy.”
***
When I wake up sometime later, I turn my head to peer up at Trace. I find that he's sleeping. His head rests against the tree, and his face is relaxed. My eyes trail over the shape of his eyebrows and down the curve of his nose. When my gaze rests on his lips, I stare at them with a longing that I try to control. I've felt those lips on mine. I crave his kiss, even now, after I know what he is. He said I went to his head that night in the foyer. It's evident he finds me attractive, so did he mean it those times he'd kissed me? I know he kissed me in the parking lot to distract me from the pain, so I guess that kiss doesn't really count. It just feels weird feeling so strongly for someone so soon after Brad.
“I can feel you staring at me,” Trace says without opening his eyes.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I blurt out before I can stop the question from escaping.
His eyes slowly open to meet mine. “No.”
I'm relieved by the news, and I hope it doesn't show too much on my face. I'm still sitting there, his arms wrapped around me as I keep my head turned up so I can look into his eyes. “You've kissed me. Twice.” What am I doing? I can't be with him. Not ever, since he has sex with other women to survive. I'm assuming it's impossible for our kind to feed off of each other.
“More than that if you want to get technical about it,” he says with a slight smile.
I don't return it. “Did it mean anything? To you, I mean.”
The smile immediately fades, and he turns quite serious. “I'll be honest with you, Livvy. I've never dated the same girl twice. It’s usually a one-night kind of thing.”
“Oh.” I want to kick myself for such a lame response.
He reaches up and brushes a strand of my hair away from my face. “You're different. You're supposed to be off limits, because you're Khristos's niece. Yet, I can't stay away. I've been watching you since you arrived in Cherry Creek, and you fascinate me.”
“I do?” I ask, savoring the feel of his warm fingertips on my face.
“I've watched you interact with Khristos and Roman. You're no pushover, and you're stubborn. Not a lot of people will stand up to those two, but you seem to do it on a daily basis.”
“You like me?” I ask cautiously, needing to know how he feels. I don't know why I'm torturing myself with all these questions. We can never be, but I guess I just want to know that none of this has been one-sided. That he feels something, too.
“Yeah, I like you,” he says with a glint in his eye.
My tone is soft as I ask, “But we can't feed off each other, can we?”
“No,” he says with equal softness.
We'll both always have to feed off of other people in order to survive. I should have never started this conversation. I clear my throat awkwardly and pull out of his arms, causing them to drop at my sides. “I think I'd better go back now. Thanks for the company, Trace,” I say as I flash him a fake, upbeat smile as I rise to my feet.
“Livvy?”
I glance down at him, because he hasn't moved from where he sits, and I wait.
“Will you be okay?” he asks as his eyes search mine.
“My heads a mess right now. I don't think anything will be okay, not for a long time,” I say honestly.
He nods. “If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”
Chapter Thirteen
When I get back to the mansion, Khristos is coming down the hallway. He looks distracted until he looks up and spies me. “Livvy—”
“Don't,” I cut him off coolly. There is nothing he can say right now that I would want to hear. His jaw tightens as I walk past, but he doesn't try to follow me.
A few minutes later, I settle on my bed with the laptop. I begin to research succubus demons. I find a ton of folklore websites, and the majority of it is the same. They feed through sex and having the same human partner for too long can cause the human to go insane or even die.
My head drops into my hands as I battle the tears that are fighting to escape. It's all my fault that Brad went crazy. I can try to blame it on Khristos all I want, but in the end, I'm the one who'd fed from him. It's also just starting to sink in that I can never marry or date a human for any amount of time longer than a week or two. I have enough of the succubus genes within me to make me lethal to humans.
God, that sounds crazy.
I drop back onto the mattress and stare up at the ceiling. I am no longer a typical human. They now are the humans, and I'm the freak that has to feed off of them. I'm a freak that probably won't ever get married or have babies. Tears come back again as I begin to mourn the death of my old life and all my dreams. Everything has changed. I can't even begin to understand where I go from here or what my future holds.
***
I'm still lounging on my bed later that evening. All I've done today is mope in my room as I come to terms with all the new facts that have been dumped on me lately. I don't know what to do with myself. I have no urge to want to go anywhere. I just want to hide and sulk. I'm not usually the type to wallow in self-pity, but I feel with everything I've had to deal with lately, I've earned a pity party for one. I will start making an effort to sort it all out tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to work on accepting it so that I can move on...if that's even possible. I mean, how am I supposed to move on to adjusting to life as a succubus?
Someone knocks o
n my door, and my body tenses. “Go away!” I know exactly who it is, and he is the last person I want to see.
“Just give me five minutes,” Roman says through the door.
“No. I'm still mad at you.”
“Five minutes, Vee. After that, you can go back to being mad at me.”
He's not going to go away. I grimace and call out, “Fine.”
The door immediately opens and Roman walks in. He's wearing a new pair of jeans and a sleeveless, black shirt that shows off his toned biceps. He looks a little bit more put together than he had been this morning, and I try hard not to find him appealing.
I don't budge from where I'm lying on my bed, and I give him a cold look. “Times ticking.”
He frowns at me, pausing near the bed. “You're a little brat today.”
“Calling me names isn't going to help your case.”
Irritation burns in his gaze before he folds his arms over his chest. Much to my surprise, he goes from glowering to uncomfortable in the blink of an eye. “Khristos isn't my real father. He...kind of adopted me and raised me as his own.”
Whatever I was expecting, it wasn't that. My head lifts, and I slowly push myself up into a sitting position. “What happened to your father?”
His arms unfold and now he shoves his hands in jeans pockets. It's obvious that this is not a topic he's thrilled to be discussing. “Usually the incubi try to avoid impregnating females unless they want an heir. Accidents happen, and most incubi look the other way,” he explains. “Our kind isn't very paternal, you could say. I don't know who my real father is, and my birth mother didn't want me. She gave me away right after I was born, and the first five years of my life I was raised in foster homes. Khristos came upon me and knew what I was. He took me in, gave me his name and has called me son ever since.”
“Why are you telling me this?” It’s not lost on me that Roman’s expression is oddly guarded, and I can tell he’d rather be doing anything else than discussing his past.
His eyes are unreadable as they stay trained on me. “We're not a very paternal race. We're not nurturers, but Khristos couldn't walk away from me that day. And for me...family means loyalty, it means belonging. Blood or not, I'm Khristos's son. That makes you family, Vee. So be mad at me all you want, but you still have my unwavering loyalty. When you're done being mad, maybe we can work on getting to know each other. For real this time.” With that said, he turns and walks back to my door.
“Roman?”
He hesitates at the door and turns to look back at me.
“Can I pick your brains for a while? That is if you don't have any plans.” For the first time, I am getting a glimpse of the real Roman, and now that he's being honest with me, I find that I think it would be wise to start getting to know him. That means wiping the slate clean, so to speak. I can let the drugging thing go if he can promise not to mess around with me anymore. No more games.
He studies me for a moment. “I can stay in for the night. Are you picking my brains here, or you want to go hang by the pool?”
“Pool,” I say instantly. “I need some fresh air.” I climb off the bed, and we're silent as we make our way through the mansion. I grab a bag of chips on our way through the kitchen while Roman grabs a can of beer from the fridge and a can of soda for me.
We settle in a pair of lounge chairs on the far side of the patio, and the sound of the water falling into the pool is soothing. The night is warm and peaceful, and it feels good to be out of my room for a while.
Roman looks relaxed on his lounger as he pulls the tab of his beer and takes a long drink. When he’s finished, he sets it in the cup holder and folds his hands behind his head as he reclines back, looking ready to fall asleep. “Pick away,” he says simply.
I ask the first thing that pops into my head. “Can a succubus have a baby?”
Roman abruptly turns his head to look at me, and there's a hint of compassion in his gaze. “I'm sorry, Vee. All succubi are sterile, and even though you're only half, you are too.”
My breath catches, and I pull my eyes from his to stare up at the late evening sky. I'm sterile. I will never have a baby. I've never thought too much about being a parent, but I had always assumed one day I'd have kids. Now I can't. “Why?” I ask in a clipped tone. “Why can't we conceive?”
“That's just the way our race is. The men can conceive with a human, but the females can't. All females come from a human and incubus conception.”
I want to laugh sarcastically over this newest revelation. Not only do I feed off of humans, but now I can't even have a child. Roman is silent, and I am grateful for that as I pull myself together. I can dwell on it later. Right now, I have free reign to ask whatever questions I want, and now that I'm getting answers, I need to take full advantage of the moment.
“How long do the succubi and incubi live?” I eventually ask as I move on to a different topic.
“Well, that depends on if we ever get beheaded or starve. Those will kill us. Other than that, nothing else will. Not bullets, injuries, fire, nothing will bring us to death.”
My eyes go wide as I turn to stare at him. I sit up abruptly and swing my legs over the lounger so that I am facing him from where I sit. “Repeat that,” I order.
Roman smirks. “We're immortal unless we are beheaded or starved. You could cut us in half, and we'll just start rebuilding the lower half of our body. Cut our head off and there's no coming back from that. There's not enough left to rebuild from.”
“Are you just yanking my chain?”
“No. I'm serious,” he assures.
I’m stunned, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. If the incubi and succubi are demons, it makes sense they aren’t mortal like humans. “Is Khristos older than he looks?” I manage to ask.
“Yes.”
“By how much?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Tell me, Roman,” I demand.
He shrugs and picks up his beer. “I think he’s been around for four or five centuries. I don't know. I asked when I was younger, and then I forgot the exact answer. I'm thinking four. Don't quote me on it, though.”
Speech is no longer possible. I am silent, lips parted as I process this news. Roman—the asshole—looks amused by my speechlessness. My mouth opens, but it's like I've forgotten how to speak. “Holy shit,” I croak out.
Roman grins widely, flashing white teeth. “Trust me, his shits not holy.”
That's enough to snap me out of my stupor. I shoot him a dirty look. “Don't be an ass. This is all new to me, be nice.”
“I am being nice,” he says pleasantly as he finishes off his beer. “I'm sitting here with you instead of going to the club.”
“Go to the club. I'm not forcing you to be here,” I retort.
“I never said I didn't want to be here,” he contradicts.
True. “Okay, moving on. How old are you?” I ask as I brace myself.
Roman chuckles. “Seventeen.”
“No, I mean really. How old are you?”
“Seventeen. I turn eighteen in October.”
My eyes narrow. “You're actually seventeen?”
“Yes.”
“Like literally?”
“Yes, for real, Vee.”
Well, good. That's better than sitting out here with a guy that looks my age but turns out to be two hundred years old. I'm not sure I could handle that. A new thought hits me, and I look at Roman sharply. “What's my life span?”
“Same as ours.”
My mouth goes slack. “I'm...”
Roman nods. “Immortal. Unless you get close to starving yourself again,” he adds.
“But I'm only half,” I sputter.
“When you've got the genes, you've got the genes, even if they are mutated.”
“But I've been sick. I had pneumonia when I was seven and was in the hospital for two days,” I point out.
“That was before your genes kicked in. Have you been sick in the past year or two?�
�
“No. Not really.”
“There you go. I will warn you though, you are a slower healer than we are. A life threatening injury won't kill you, but it won't be pleasant, either. It'll take you much longer to bounce back from it than it would if it were one of us. So, you still have to watch yourself,” he warns seriously.
“This is crazy,” I mumble as I rub my hands over my face.
“You sure you want to continue on with this, or should we save the rest of this inquisition for another time?”
My hands drop, and I give him a firm look. “I want to know everything.”
“There is such thing as too much at once, Vee,” he points out.
“You guys have kept things from me long enough, don't you think? I just want to know what I'm getting involved in now that I know what I am.”
Roman nods at my insistence. “What else do you want to know?”
“Are we basically human, but for the feeding off energy thing?”
“No, we're not human. We're stronger, and like I said, we can heal from just about anything. We can also shift,” he says carefully.
“Shift?” I echo.
Roman suddenly grins. “It's a fun perk to being an incubus or succubus. Our lives depend on being able to feed. Since not everyone is going to find our original form attractive, we have the ability to morph into anyone as long as it's the same sex. I can't turn female, even if I wanted to. Just male.”
“You're serious, aren't you?”
He sits up in his chair and rises to his feet. He looks down at me, hands on hips. “Think of someone in your head, preferably male. I don't care what he looks like, just imagine someone.”
Trace flickers in my mind, and I can't help but latch onto a picture of him in my head. Then, before my eyes, Roman begins to blur slightly as his body and facial features begin to shift. His dark hair lightens slightly and grows in length until it resembles Trace's. His eyes fade to a light gray and his clothes begin to blur and change color and texture. He's literally turning into the vision of Trace. He's now wearing the shirt Trace had on earlier that day and his jeans. It's...Trace that now stands before me.
Cherry Creek Page 18
