Incubus

by Celia Aaron

  “Handsome, yes?” He noted me studying his features. “I am often told I am the spitting image of my father. Though Zeus would surely say differently.”

  I didn’t know how to respond without insulting one god or another, so I slowly got to my feet, consciously refusing to check the damage he’d done to my face. Meeting his eyes, I kept my head high.

  “I’ve watched you for the past few hours in the valley.” He circled me, his black robes swishing around me in the dark. Standing behind me, his hot breath wafted across my neck. His hands were in my hair, removing the pins I’d used to keep the mass of waves out of my face. I forced myself to remain still, though his touch made my skin crawl. After loosening the locks until they flowed to my waist, he ran his fingers through them. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a female?” He put one hand on my neck in a vise grip and used the other to trace my collarbone, threatening to go even lower. “And here you are, a beautiful immortal just traipsing into my lair. I will grant you the honor of being my slave. And you will quench my every desire.” He punctuated the last words by ripping through my buttoned shirt.

  “I thought I might run into this problem,” I said crisply, never revealing the fear that bubbled in my stomach.

  “I very much doubt it. If you had, you’d never have come. Not if you knew what I have in mind for you.”

  “Hmm. If the river of blood is any indicator, I think I have a pretty good idea.”

  He let out a low laugh that was completely devoid of mirth. “I will enjoy breaking your spirit as I break your body.”

  “Let me ask you this. Does the name Roth mean anything to you?”

  His grip on my throat tightened, but I didn’t make a sound.

  “What if it did?” He loosened his fingers ever so slightly. My question had piqued his interest.

  “Because I’m here to make you a deal. An offer you can’t refuse.”

  He snorted with derision. “You sound like Hades bartering for a soul, though you certainly don’t look like him.”

  His hand tightened again, and I knew it was now or never. “Cut the crap, Ares.” I wrenched away from him. “I know you want Roth dead or alive. And I’m here to offer my services to get him for you.”

  He roared with rage, shaking the very walls of the cave and bringing dozens of stalactites shattering into the ground. His hand flew to strike me again, but I made no move, just kept my steady eyes locked on his soulless ones.

  I knew he wouldn’t kill me. Not yet, anyway. I was at the mercy of my instincts and trusted them implicitly.

  The blow never came as the god stilled, considering my words. His light eyes seemed to grow even colder, crueler somehow, and the slight twitch of his lips told me I could continue with my plan. Bingo.

  15

  Lilah

  I awoke at twilight and felt somewhat revived from the previous evening’s events. I had trouble falling back to sleep, worrying Apollo had seen the markings on my neck and knew who I was. If he told Roth, my plan could be ruined. I hoped he was too busy being a perv to notice, but I wasn’t fooling myself. If he read the runes, he knew. I could only hope he wouldn’t tell.

  My stomach growled like an angry mountain lion. I wanted to find Bart and get another bite of his delicious scones. I threw on a pair of jeans and a simple gray t-shirt before making my way back down the hallway I’d strolled through the previous night, now taking time to investigate the rooms whose doors were open. I walked into a study with a solid desk and packed bookcases lining every inch of space on the walls. I marveled at the sheer number of books Roth had collected over the years. Had he read all these? Or just collected them for looks?

  My every free moment since being dropped on earth had been filled with two things: returning to Olympus and reading. If I couldn’t hunt with my sisters, I could read the human’s tales about them. If I couldn’t gain the favor of Artemis, I could follow her stories through the pages. The stories gave me hope to carry on, to return, to be a huntress for Artemis again. The imaginary world in the pages was not so unlike the very real world of gods, devils, and angels I had long been a part of.

  I trailed my fingers along the spines as I walked around the room. The very feel of the leather and smell of books was a comfort to me. If someone could have bottled “book smell,” I was certain I would dab it behind my ears like my mother used to do with vanilla.

  “Should have known you were some kind of nerd.”

  Startled, I whirled to see the blonde from the night before prancing into the room. She wore a pink negligee that left nothing to the imagination. She gave me an appraising up-and-down look before perching herself on the edge of the desk.

  “What are you doing here, anyway? I heard you didn’t please the master. Figures.” She shot me a withering gaze.

  I tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy at the thought of Roth with this physically perfect woman who dared to stand here taunting me. “Corinne, I presume?”

  “The one and only.” Her sneer demanded an answer.

  I strode up to her, only inches from her face. “I think it’s best if you keep your mouth shut when you’re around me. I wouldn’t want Roth’s favorite plaything to lose any teeth.”

  “Just so long as you know I’m his favorite.”

  “One of many, I’m sure.” I couldn’t believe this fool was trying to stake a claim on an incubus. The horses were already out of the barn on that one.

  “He’s mine. Don’t touch him, and I won’t hurt you.”

  I let out a wheezing guffaw, doing my best to infuriate Corinne. I could only hope the female would strike me. Then it would be open season. “Roth’s yours? Maybe you didn’t see—what was her name—oh, yeah, Anne in the bed with you last night.”

  “Oh, she wasn’t for him.” She took a small step closer and licked her lips as she glanced down at my mouth.

  “Not in your wildest dreams.” My hands curled into fists, the need to pound the female’s face with my fists almost overwhelming.

  Corinne smirked and made her way out of the study. “I’m glad we understand each other about Roth. And, by the way, my room’s right across the hall. You’re always welcome for a little girl talk.” She purred her invitation as she disappeared into the hallway.

  My skin crawled, and I left the study and headed down to the dining room. “Is everyone but Bart some kind of sexed-up sexy sex maniac looking for sex all the freakin’ time?” I muttered as I followed the delicious smell of food that wafted through the downstairs.

  “What was that, carissima?”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin to hear Roth’s smooth voice right next to my ear. “That’s it. You’re getting a collar with a bell, mister.” I tried to get my heart back into a regular rhythm, though I suspected the fright wasn’t the only thing that sped it up.

  “I think I just might have one of those upstairs.” He held the dining room door open for me.

  “Of course you do.” I noticed his gaze was glued to my ass as I walked past.

  A large dining room table presided over the center of the room, at least twenty chairs along its sides. Rich people. I shook my head. Toward the far end, Apollo sauntered in from the foyer and pulled out a chair. He beckoned me over. Shirtless, his thickly muscled body practically glowed with vigor, and his bright eyes had a mischievous twinkle. Typical.

  “For you, my lady.” He added a confident smile.

  The ghost of my mother, Nona Satterfield, pretty much forced me to take the proffered chair. Being a lady was important, even in the hollows of Alabama.

  Roth gave Apollo a look that would have melted the skin off anyone who wasn’t a god. As it was, Apollo ignored it and settled in next to me. The chair creaked under his weight. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “Did you miss me?” Apollo draped an arm over the back of my chair and rubbed a lock of my hair between his fingers.

  Before I could retort, Roth bit out, “Apollo, a word?”

  “I’ll be right back.�
� Apollo chucked me under the chin, and I pondered grabbing my butter knife and sinking it into his thigh. But he was up and gone before I could go through with the ill-advised plan. It was a good thing, especially since I’d been considering making an attempt at talking him into never revealing what my runes meant.

  I’d also heard a distinct growl from Roth when Apollo touched me.

  Both men walked into the hallway, where a quiet argument ensued. I hurried to the door to hear more, afraid Apollo would spill about the meaning of the runes on my neck. To my chagrin, I made out the words “cockblocked” coming from Apollo and “son of a bitch” coming from a furious Roth. When Roth saw me listening in, he closed the door in my face. I pressed my ear to the door but couldn’t make out the rest of the conversation, so I took my place back at the table. My secret seemed safe for the moment, at least.

  Bart was busily bringing in plate after plate of food, making my mouth water and making me lose interest in the argument that was getting louder by the second.

  After a few minutes, the voices stopped, and Roth returned sans Apollo. They seemed to have worked on their conflict resolution skills, since he wasn’t bloodied and panting this time.

  “I apologize for the inconvenience. Let’s dine, shall we?”

  “You don’t have to protect me from him.” It was a halfhearted protest, since my eyes were riveted to the fresh baguette that lay before me. And I certainly wasn’t going to tell him that even though Apollo was a gorgeous god, I preferred Roth’s tall, dark, and handsome looks to Apollo’s golden-boy glow.

  “Apollo just wants to use your body. That’s what he does.” Roth waved his hand dismissively.

  “You mean he didn’t like me for my winning personality?” I met his gaze.

  “Please. Apollo only cares about his pleasures.”

  I snorted. “And you’re so different, incubus?”

  Roth seemed to consider his words carefully as he ran his long fingers across the back of the chair. “Where you’re concerned, yes. Now, no more talk of him. Let’s dine.”

  I didn’t take kindly to being told what to talk about, but I could no longer ignore the sumptuous feast.

  Bart had cooked a delectable dinner of beef bourguignon with buttery roasted vegetables and fluffy rolls. I tried my best to be ladylike and limit the food on my plate, but the doleful look from Bart had me loading up more food. After all, I didn’t want poor Bart to think I didn’t like his food, now did I? Take that, Mama. Roth watched with interest as I ate, offering me more wine and food as I went.

  “Does your incubus have a thing for watching women eat?” I asked when he pushed the tray of rolls toward me again.

  He laughed. “I just find that food is one of the simplest pleasures in life. One that I’d like to share with you.”

  I pushed the plate away. “You really know how to get into anyone’s pants, don’t you?”

  He leaned back in his chair. Had that been hurt that flashed across his eyes? I found it hard to believe an incubus of Roth’s caliber could ever feel unhappy about a comment on his wooing prowess. But there it was, written plain as day for a split second.

  “Look, I—”

  “Shall we go?” He cut me off, rising from the table.

  “Yeah, I’m ready to work. I think your study would be perfect.”

  “I’m afraid not, carissima.”

  “Then where, in your sitting room?” I was trying to figure out where I could plug in my laptop.

  “We’re going on a field trip.” He gestured for me to accompany him into the foyer.

  “No, we aren’t,” I said with what I hoped was finality.

  “Do you want to know about my life?” He bristled slightly at my defiance.

  “I thought we already cleared that up.”

  He softened his stance, apparently trying a different tack and no longer ordering but asking. “The best way for me to tell you about it is to show you.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. An incubus specialized in one thing…and he wanted to show me? Again? Hadn’t I seen enough of his sexcapades last night? No matter. If I had to watch him bed every woman in town to get him where I wanted him, so be it. The thought burned in my gut, but I would do whatever it took.

  “Fine, but tell me where we’re going.”

  “It’ll be a surprise.” He once again gestured for me to join him. The solid muscle of his chest rippled beneath the black button-up shirt he wore. What would that strong chest feel like pressing down on me? I realized my nipples had hardened at the very thought. Cursing the fact I’d worn a bra with no padding in the cup whatsoever, I reluctantly rose and followed him to the front door.

  “Chilly, is it?” He smirked. “I simply must ask Bartholomew to do something about the temperature.”

  To my dismay, his intense gaze only made my nipples harder. It didn’t help that when I looked up at him, I noticed the strong line of his jaw and felt the sudden urge to trace it with my tongue. Some sort of incubus magic? It had to be. Why else would I be even a little bit interested in him?

  “My eyes are up here.”

  “Don’t be ashamed of what you want.” His eyes flashed with those unmistakable embers.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and met his gaze with a hard one of my own. “Don’t think for a second you have any clue what I want.”

  He pressed his palm against my lower back as I walked past him toward the front door, and his whisper caressed my ear, making my breath hitch. “I believe I have a pretty good idea.”

  16

  Roth

  Her fingers dug into my chest as I took a corner at a breakneck pace. We jetted through the streets of Paris on my motorcycle, the City of Light turning into a vibrant blur. The night was perfect, a cool breeze playing through the streets, and a cloudless sky sparkling overhead. More than that, I enjoyed feeling the curves of her body pressed against me through my leather jacket. She held on for dear life, which was my goal in taking out the ECOSSE bike instead of one of my sports cars.

  “Maniac!” Her scream surged over the roar of the engine as we took another curve, leaning into it and shooting smoothly down a side street. Her heart was beating so hard I could feel it reverberating against my back, and I longed to feel it hammering against my chest when we were face-to-face in my bed. I could imagine her raven hair spread out over my pillows and her creamy skin soft and pliant to my fingertips. The thought of her sweet little mouth moaning my name during the height of passion sent a thrill through my body, making me stiffen and the incubus awaken. I forced the demon back down and focused on the road ahead as I took another perilous turn onto a dark rue before finally slowing and parking.

  Lilah hopped off and flung her helmet at me, though I caught it with ease. “Are you trying to kill me?” Her eyes flashed like the sea in a tempest.

  “We’re immortal, carissima. Unless I somehow managed to behead you while riding my motorcycle, no wreck could kill you.”

  “No wreck could kill me, he says.” An edge of rage sliced through her tone. “But it sure as hell could strip all the skin off my body!”

  I stowed our helmets. “You were in no danger. I’m an excellent rider.”

  “Yeah, you made that perfectly clear last night.” She said it just loud enough for me to hear.

  I wished she hadn’t seen me with Corinne and Anne, but she’d made her own assumptions about what happened in that room. I couldn’t deny that her assumption would have been right on any other night. But not that one. Not after I met her. And I was paying the price—some of my power already fading because I hadn’t done what I needed to do to keep the incubus sated. But I didn’t regret it. Not for a second.

  I wanted to tell her I was tired of sleeping with random women, making no real connection and having no future. That she was already like a drug to me, making me want more and more from the first moment I saw her. I knew there was something different about her, even as I watched her from a distance in Red-Handed. Something that dre
w me to her like no other. But I’d already ruined my chance when she’d caught me in the bed with Corinne and Anne. The look on her face was seared into my mind. Utter disgust. I could never please her. She’d never want me to. She saw me for what I was—a womanizer who couldn’t or wouldn’t stop.

  Shaking off my gloom, I turned to her. “I realize you’re angry, but you need to get over it. We have to be of one mind for the situation we’re about to get into. You’ll need to trust me.”

  She looked at me with those beguiling eyes, no doubt searching my face for some sign of trickery. When she seemed to find none, she asked, “Why? Where are we going?”

  I pointed to what looked like a hotel called the Étienne Noir. The sign was hanging haphazardly off the building, and the front windows were completely blacked out. No tourist would dally there, which was undoubtedly the idea. The street had no lights, and no one lounged outside their windows, enjoying the cool Paris night. It was as if the street were under a pall that emanated from the Étienne Noir.

  “For the past two hundred years or so, this has been a brothel. Before that, it was alternately a brewery, tannery, and about two thousand years ago it was open ground and home to a village with a makeshift hospital. Beneath it lies a series of catacombs—our destination. We can reach the catacombs only from this entrance…” I trailed off, trying to think of the best way to tell her the rest.

  “But?” she said. “I can just tell there’s going to be a big, honkin’ ‘but’ about to come out of your mouth.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. Her lilting accent came through stronger than ever. I wanted to kiss her smirking lips but kept my desires in check, barely. I’d need my wits about me if I wanted to make it through Voltaire’s lair.

  “But.” I took a breath and gave her a level stare. “The building is now owned by a pleasure demon.”

  Lilah’s eyes widened in alarm. And I well understood why—a pleasure demon was like an incubus on steroids with much darker desires, and Voltaire was the king of his kind. Despite the name, they had a penchant for S&M along with some hardcore bondage. All their victims were willing. Still, I could admit some of the brazen acts that went on in that building were beyond the pale for even me—a creature that lived off sexual energy.