Incubus

by Celia Aaron

  30

  Lilah

  I TORE PAST Bart, who was polishing the floor near the stairs, nearly bowling him over as I went. I had to get away from Roth. One more second in his arms would have ruined everything. I knew that as surely as the sun rose in the east. His effect on me was intensifying to an alarming degree. I should be angry—first mauled by Paris and then Roth. But I knew they were two far, far different things. Paris was a momentary trespasser, one who did not tempt me. Roth, on the other hand, fed my darkest passions, something I had vowed never to give in to again. My body kept betraying me, needing the touch only Roth could give. I’d never missed a male’s caress, never so much as looked twice at any male since Farrow. I had learned my lesson well, keeping myself cold and standoffish at all times. But Roth stripped away all my armor, piece by piece, until nothing was left except that young, foolish girl in the Forgotten Forest, desperate for love and affection.

  Damnit! If I didn’t snap out of it, I would have no chance of being reunited with Artemis and my sisters. Instead, I would be Ares’s slave and likely wishing for a death that would not come. He would use me until the last ounce of my soul was twisted and broken before casting me into Hades. One look into his cruel eyes was all it took to know the depth of evil within him was bottomless. I’d set up the game and would have to play by its rules, no matter the cost.

  I bounded up the stairs and cloistered myself in my room, crawling into my bed and starting up my laptop. Ares was breathing down my neck, forcing my hand. It had been over eleven months since their meeting in the Valley of Thrace. I had spent every day since then tracking down Roth, a quest that took me all over the world and even into the Underworld. When I’d finally lighted upon him in France, I had only a short time to return him to Ares before the god claimed me. That was the deal I had struck and the one I intended to keep. The memory of the blood-filled hourglass and Ares’s promise of untold tortures for me if I should fail, made me feel like a trapped animal—as if I were the incubus inside Roth, aching to get out.

  Roth, who had been nothing but kind to me. Who awakened feelings in me I thought were long-ago dead and buried. His mouth… I shook my head violently. I needed to start working to stop my mind from straying to thoughts of Roth’s hands on my body. Writing was the only thing that could get me back on track and silence the fear—and desire—inside.

  Cracking my knuckles, I leaned back into the pillows and propped the computer on my lap, waiting for inspiration to hit so I could begin the first chapter. I sat for a while, staring at the white screen as the blinking cursor silently mocked me. I knew I would never finish the book, never titillate the Underworld with tales of the incubus, because I would be back on Olympus with my sisters. But still, I needed to get something down, something to memorialize these fleeting moments. As much as I wanted to leave this world behind me and return to my sisters, writing would always be a part of me.

  It took a while, but eventually, the ideas began to come. Roth’s complicated beginnings made for an interesting opener, and I was careful to build suspense until the moment of his death. Perhaps I embellished a bit, making Roth’s killer out to be more of a vicious brute than what Roth had described, but history was written by the victors, and Roth had long outlived his murderous Roman commander.

  In the retelling, I felt the same stab of betrayal that stung me when I was deep in the catacombs with Roth. I too knew something about being betrayed by the boss, as it were. Funny, I’d never really thought of it as a betrayal until now. I had always believed Artemis was infallible and her decrees—though sometimes harsh—were inherently fair. But after what happened to Roth, I wasn’t so sure that those in charge of the fates of others understood the weight of their decisions. Not by half.

  The hours crept by as I labored over my manuscript. I chewed my fingernails at intervals, though they grew back within minutes. When the sun was well up, I sat back and gave the whole thing a quick read through.

  I had to admit it was some of my best work, though riddled with typos and random bits of atrocious grammar. The only problem was that I’d made Roth too sympathetic a character. He needed to be more ruthless devil than heroic victim, but I couldn’t help the facts of his story. I was certain the subsequent chapters would devolve into scenes of gratuitous sex and all manner of deviant acts, so the scandalous tone would have to steep a bit before coming into full flavor.

  I wanted to snuggle down into the bed and sleep the day away, but the feast from last night was long gone. After a quick shower, I slowly opened my door and peeked up and down the hallway. The house was silent, and Roth’s doors were shut. Heading down to the first floor, I took care not to make a sound. I snuck into the kitchen and rustled up some leftovers from last night’s dinner, along with some ripe peaches from the fruit tray, and wrapped them in a dinner napkin. Bart was nowhere to be seen, but I was glad of it. I just wanted to stuff myself and sleep away the day and the worries of the previous night.

  “Storing up for winter?” Apollo breezed into the kitchen, startling me into almost dropping my stash.

  “No, I-I-I…”

  Apollo held up a patronizing hand. “No worries. I’ve left many a maid speechless.” He gave what he must have thought was his most charming smile and positioned himself between me and the door, leaving me no room to pass.

  “So, a little birdie told me you were in Artemis’s service.” He grabbed an apple from a dish filled with fruit. Taking a large bite, he chewed while looking at me expectantly.

  I didn’t know what to say. Though a god, and Artemis’s brother, Apollo was a classic scoundrel. “What of it?”

  “I was just wondering why a sweet little maiden like yourself would ditch my sister.” He pored over every inch of my body.

  “Why do you care?”

  “Just curious.” He edged a little closer, offering me a bite of his apple with a lascivious grin.

  “No, thank you. If that’s all, I think I’ll be going.”

  “Don’t make me pull the ‘I’m a god, you must do what I say’ thing on you.” He still blocked my way. “That got old ages ago. Besides, I knew what the runes said the second I saw them. Remember, when I was in your bed?” He winked at her, as if they shared some sort of inside joke.

  I blanched. “You’ve known the entire time?”

  “Of course I did. I just wanted to see what you were up to. What can I say? I like intrigues starring brooding brunettes.”

  “What does it matter to you?” Exasperated, I wished I’d tucked a blade in my jeans before coming downstairs. Though even I didn’t have the balls to pull a knife on Apollo. That would lead to a definite smiting. “Why is everyone so interested in why I got the boot from Olympus?”

  “So you were booted?” He once again gave me that schoolboy smile that was far more roguish than winsome, in my opinion. It had none of Roth’s seductive qualities.

  Realizing Apollo wouldn’t let me escape without giving him what he wanted, I decided to tell him. At this point, I wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t already know all my secrets. “Yes, I was. I stupidly bound myself to a male who turned out to have an unrepentant nymph addiction. I was humiliated in front of all my sisters. Left to die but then sent to the mortal world instead. One minute I was waiting for her dogs to come rip me to bits, the next minute I’m flung to earth, landing in a puddle of filth in the middle of a New York street. I made my way in the world and now I’m here.” I recited it like a litany. The pain in my chest started its relentless beat, reminding me of the sisterhood I’d lost. It had been almost silent the past few days with Roth, but now the familiar guilt and hurt washed over me, as if telling it made it happen all over again.

  “Do you miss it?”

  “Of course I do! There isn’t anything I wouldn’t give to be back there again, with my sisters. Nothing I wouldn’t do to see them again.”

  “You’d do anything?” He stepped so close I could smell the apple on his breath, tart and sugary.

  “Anyt
hing,” I put the force of my conviction into the word. “And I would appreciate it if you kept that information between us.”

  Now I was eager to escape, and the burning humiliation in my cheeks made me want to fight him, no matter that he could strike me dead in an instant. I tensed, planning my next move.

  After giving me an appraising glance, this one curiously devoid of his usual lust, he moved aside so I could pass. I hurried by, still on edge with my purloined leftovers in tow.

  “It was her loss, you know.”

  The remark took me by surprise, even more so when I turned and found an earnest look on his face. Right then I saw Zeus in him, the features of the king of the gods written plainly in the lines of his son’s face. It was Apollo’s true nature—something noble lurked inside, the playboy facade crumbling for a split second to reveal the god within.

  But it didn’t last. Noticing my frank look, Apollo let his gaze wander south to the peaks of my breasts beneath my pajama top. So he is just like his father.

  “Want some company in your room? I absolutely love eating peaches.” He rubbed a hand over his mouth.

  I didn’t even bother to answer his question as I left the kitchen. I made my escape so quickly I nearly bumped into Roth, who’d been listening outside the door.

  31

  Roth

  Lilah attempted to regain her poker face to no avail. I knew her secret—the only thing I didn’t know was why she’d kept it from me in the first place. Obviously, the reason she’d sought me had something to do with her banishment, but what?

  After trying and failing to compose herself, Lilah hurried past, offering no explanation and leaving no room for questions.

  A blush highlighted her cheeks, no doubt caused by Apollo. The incubus awoke with a roar, goading me to fight the god once again, as if it had staked its claim on Lilah. But that was absurd. The incubus knew only one release, one satisfaction, and that was to sate itself on woman after woman, time and again. Want her. The whisper came from deep within, where the incubus lay caged within my breast.

  Being in the service of Artemis made perfect sense to me. I should have guessed it before. Her skill with the blade and prowess with the wolf, obvious. Artemis’s maidens were known for their warlike natures—cold killers who did the bidding of a goddess. This fair creature was no more gentled by her time on earth than my demon. She no doubt still possessed some of Artemis’s power and all the goddess’s knowledge of hunting and fighting. She was far tougher than her delicate appearance let on, which is what made her so deadly. The warrior maidens of the moon goddess were frequently victorious on the fields of battle that marred the face of Olympus. Wars that erupted every time the gods got into a row, which could arise from anything from a perceived slight to Zeus’s roving eye. Lilah was a maiden steeped in battle and blood, yet cast out for a transgression that stemmed not from her, but from the one she spoke of. The traitorous male who had hurt her almost beyond healing.

  But that was no matter—and with this the incubus crowed in agreement—when I found the male who’d betrayed Lilah, I’d flay him until only agony and bones remained.

  32

  Lilah

  I had worked myself into a panic and was doing my best to get back to calm. But serenity was elusive when my target might begin unraveling my secrets. I couldn’t risk it, couldn’t let him know my mission. And I burned with shame that Roth knew of my folly with Farrow—knew I was weak and foolish. He and Apollo were probably laughing at me. Humiliation tinged my thoughts, and I didn’t know the tears were falling until I lay in a heap in my closet. I hadn’t cried since that day in the Forgotten Forest. Nothing could break my impenetrable shell. Until Roth.

  I remembered well all the times I’d been yelled at and cut down by bosses in the human world—men on power trips who enjoyed abusing their workers, especially the females. I’d remained stoic, letting the insults roll off until my employers no longer aimed their ire at me. There was no point. I never got upset or showed the slightest bit of emotion because I had none. I was numb from the day I was cast out, and I continued on sewing, writing stories, making money, and saving for the day I could meet the Oracle and return to Olympus on my own terms.

  But now here I was, lying in a closet and mewling like a kitten. Something had changed me—made me weak. And I knew it was Roth. Knew I was succumbing to the same mistakes that got me here in the first place.

  A slight knock on my bedroom door had me hastily wiping the tears away and climbing from the closet. I wasn’t about to let Roth see my tears. “I’m busy. Go away. We’ll talk tomorrow night.”

  After a slight hesitation, Anne’s voice came through the wood. “Umm, I just want to check on you. See if you’re all right.”

  Ordering the girl away was on the tip of my tongue until Anne said the magic words. “I brought chocolate.”

  I cracked the door just enough so Anne could shimmy inside. She was wearing a see-through robe that showed off her lustrous ebony skin and barely covered the essentials, but I didn’t care. I closed the door and grabbed the proffered chocolates, plopping on the bed as I unwrapped one and savored it on my tongue.

  Anne perched on the bed, waiting patiently as I finished off a couple of the chocolates before beginning. “So, tell me what’s wrong.”

  I let out a guffaw, well aware my Southern was showing. “I don’t even know where to start. Let’s just suffice it to say, the gods have a wicked sense of humor.”

  Anne ran her hands through my hair absentmindedly before offering, “I could help you feel better, you know. I am a nymph after all.”

  I almost choked on the chocolate. Ordinarily, I would have felt inclined to smack anyone who made such a forward offer, but I could tell by Anne’s sincere expression she was truly trying to help. Nymphs, sheesh.

  “That won’t be necessary.” I gave her an awkward pat on the knee. “But I, er, appreciate it. And the chocolate has already gone a long way toward making me feel better.”

  I started picking through the food I’d snagged from the kitchen, no longer feeling very hungry. I offered my stash to Anne, who munched on a peach while still stroking my hair with one hand. The feeling was oddly calming, even though the nymph had just propositioned me. Anne reminded me of my sisters, making the pain of my separation from them fresh. I tilted my head back and looked at the ceiling, willing the tears away.

  “You don’t want to talk about it?”

  “It’s probably best I don’t. Besides, I’m beat. I think I’m going to turn in and start fresh again tomorrow night.”

  Anne rose and gave me a kiss on the forehead. I was overcome again, sensing the tears threatening, but this time they sprang from the feeling of sisterhood Anne was evoking. I could picture Elena trying to comfort me just like this… Except for the proposition part.

  “I’m always here if you need to talk.” Anne squeezed my arm before leaving.

  After brushing my teeth—which I did religiously even though there was no threat of tooth decay—I burrowed into my blankets. I wanted the oblivion of sleep, no longer worrying about Roth or Ares or Artemis or Farrow.

  Despite my efforts, I fell asleep remembering the feel of Roth’s lips on mine, demanding more. And I had been so close to giving him what he desired. Too close.

  Roth’s screams echoed through my mind, sounds of torment so wretched no mortal could survive it. Ares had him somewhere beneath his cavernous throne room and was meting out a punishment worse than eternity in Hades. And it was all my fault. I stood next to Ares’s throne, as if bound there by some invisible force. The hourglass sat to my right; the blood was all but gone—I’d delivered Roth on time.

  The stench of death clung to the air and invaded every cell of my being. Another scream cut through the stillness, and I struggled against my bonds, desperately trying to make it to Roth. He needed me, even though I’d betrayed him. I could make it right, if only I could get free.

  “You want to help him?” Ares whispered in my ear, the
evil snaking from his voice and into my mind. “Is that what you agreed to?”

  Roth’s anguished cry came again.

  The handsome god of war’s face did nothing to hide the evil that lay within. It seeped out of him like the reek from the bodies that hung in the stairwell. Ares grabbed a handful of my hair and wrenched my head back. “Tell me! Is that what you agreed to?” His voice was inhuman.

  Pain seared along my scalp. “No!”

  “You agreed to bring him to me, did you not?” He pushed my head to the side and ran his tongue along my neck, setting the mark of Artemis on fire. Revulsion churned in my stomach.

  “I won’t ask you again.” So quiet, so lethal, his tone made my heart skip a beat.

  “I did.”

  His eyes were pits of the vilest malevolence, but I couldn’t look away. My fear locked me in his sights, paralyzing me.

  “I’m beginning to think you want to be my slave.” He smoothed his cold hand under my shirt and up my back as I tried to shrink away from him. “Don’t you?” He dug his nails into my skin.

  “No!” I struggled to free myself.

  “Perhaps I’ll keep you anyway.” He gave another sharp tug on my hair before sinking his teeth into my neck.

  “No!” I was caught in his snare. As he licked the blood from the wound on my throat, laughter rolled out of him, malice in every note. His fingers shredded my skin, and I screamed, unable to save myself.

  “I’ll bring him!” I fought against his hold. “I’ll bring him.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  Instantly, I was sitting up in my bed, clutching the sheet that had gotten tangled around me as I slept. Sweat made my pajama top stick to me, and my breaths came fast and shallow. I tried to shake off the fear the dream had caused but found myself staring around the room, examining every shadow as if Ares were there, watching me. Only a dream.