by L. L. Frost
“That’s because you needed more power!” Anger fuels him, and he grows in height until he towers over me. “Which you would have gained if you’d waited!”
Despite myself, I cower before his strength. Landon can snuff me out as easily as he eats one of his butterflies.
“Aww, Boo.” The fog swirls around his legs as he walks closer, shrinking every step until he crouches in front of me at normal size once more. “Don’t do that.”
My eyes stay on the ground, my voice small as I ask, “Will I get to go back to my body?”
“I should make you stay here until you fully mature like you were supposed to.” My hands curl into fists, and he sighs before patting me on the head. “Don’t worry. I won’t force you to stay. I never do.”
Sniffing back the sting in my eyes, I mumble, “I want to go back.”
“I know.” His fingers cup my elbows, and he forces me to stand. “We just have to wait while your body does its thing without you getting in its way.”
“What do you mean?” When I peek up at him, his yellow gaze slides away.
“Let’s go see if one of these houses has a TV.” Without waiting for a response, he marches toward one of the nearby buildings that lay dark, the inhabitants not at home, or at least not asleep yet.
I hurry after him. “Landon, what do you mean?”
“You’re a succubus. Your body’s healing itself.” His head tips back, and he stares at the sky as if he needs to check the moon’s position for the time. “It should only take a couple hours.”
“Landon...”
He waves me off. “Not now, Boo.”
As he passes through the wall, I scowl and duck in after him. The bricks, made from a denser fog than the stuff that swirls around the streets, give way with little resistance. “You know, things would be a lot easier if you would just answer my questions.”
“You decided you were adult enough not to need me anymore.” In the living room, he throws himself onto a gray flowered couch and kicks his feet up on the coffee table. “You’re just lucky I still keep tabs on you.”
He pats the cushions next to him, and I flop down with a huff of annoyance. “How’d you know to come?”
“Despite your protests, you’re still my little ball of energy. When everyone else said it was pointless, I chose to raise you.” His focus stays on the blank TV as if a movie plays. And maybe, in his head, it does. His arm moves to the back of the couch to leave his side exposed. “I’ll always know when you’re in trouble. You’re a part of me.”
“Thank you.” Hesitant, I snuggle up to him like I did when I was still young and hungry for touch. “So, what’s playing today?”
“How Stella Got Her Groove Back.”
My legs curl up onto the couch. “I hate that movie.”
“You should take notes.”
***
The next time I open my eyes, I find myself face down on a mattress. The soft, flannel sheets shift against my skin, warm and unfamiliar. When I lift my head, I stare around blearily at the white and pale blue room. A fur rug takes up a lot of the floor space, and giant poofs lay scattered around the room. Fire burns in a wall-mounted fireplace, pumping out enough heat to make the room too warm for comfort.
Groggy, I struggle to push myself to my hands and knees, head hanging so that my blue tipped hair brushes against the bed. Everything aches, my skin tight and slippery with newness. I haven’t felt this raw since I first became corporeal.
The thick, down comforter slides off my back, and I realize I’m naked. And sticky.
Fuck. Now, I know what Landon meant by letting my body do its thing.
The door swings open, and Kellen strides in naked with all those sleek muscles on full display. Lightning crackles along his skin and skates across his eyes as they land on me. “Hey, baby, it’s okay, I just replenished.”
He reaches the bed and crawls across it with liquid grace, his cock already hard and heavy between his legs as he reaches for my hips.
I kick at him weakly. “Back the fuck off.”
He leans back on his heels, the muscles in his thighs bulging. “You’re coherent again, huh?”
“Just came back.” I tug the blanket up over my bare breasts as I glance around. “Is this Emil’s room?”
“Yeah. We owe him some new sheets.” He rubs a hand across his chest and static crackles. “Not that some of this mess isn’t his.”
I press my thighs together around the aching emptiness of my core. “How many times did we—”
Kellen reaches out to boop me on the nose. “Let’s not talk about what happened when you went into a feeding frenzy.”
I grab one of the pillows smashed against the headboard and pull it over my face. “Kill me now.”
The bed shakes, and I peek out to find Kellen flopped on his side, his head propped on one arm. He grins down at me, his lightning blue eyes bright. “You already tried to do that once today. Let’s not do it again.”
I bolt upright. “Where’s Torch? Is he okay?”
“He’s tiny again and in his heat safe box. Emil’s watching him while I take another turn feeding you.” He pinches his thumb and forefinger together, then separates them to form little lightning bolts. “I hate to ask since you probably don’t feel great right now, but...”
My leg pokes out from under the covers, and I stretch out to press my toes against his leg. Sparklers race up over my foot and ankle, furrow into my skin, and race along my bones to the ball of energy at my center. A shockingly small ball for how much sex my body tells me I participated in.
My brows furrow together. “How long was I out?”
“Your soft opening was yesterday.” His hand covers the top of my foot, and the flow of energy increases. “You know, this would go a faster if—”
I narrow my eyes at him. “No.”
“I was going to say cuddle.” He pinches my big toe, and a large bolt of lightning rattles my bones. “Get your mind out of the gutter, little succubus.”
My gaze drops to his cock, which now rests quietly against his thigh. With a huff, I lift one edge of the blanket. “Fine, get in.”
He wastes no time as he burrows beneath the covers and wraps his naked body around me. The air crackles with electricity, and I worry for a moment that the blanket will catch fire.
Then Kellen sighs and relaxes against me. “We should do this more often.”
Silence fills the room, and if not for the sparks nipping at me, I think I could have fallen back asleep. I yawn, somehow comforted by the warmth of his body and the cozy embrace of a bed that’s not my own.
At last, I whisper, “Thank you for not destroying my corporeal form.”
He stays quiet for a long moment before he tucks my head under his chin. “You’re welcome.”
Punching the Gift Horse
When I next wake, Kellen’s gone, and my internal clock tells me I need to get up and go to work. I swing my legs out of Emil’s bed and almost step on Tac, who sprawls on the fur rug, his giant body a swath of darkness against all the white. He lurches to his feet, wings rustling, before he lays his wedge-shaped head in my lap. A chainsaw purr rumbles through me to rattle bones that feel too fragile, ready to splinter apart at the barest touch.
I remember this sensation from when I first left dreamland. Then, I arrived on the human plane shaky and terrified by all the smells and colors. It took hours to figure out how to get my new body working and drag myself into Landon’s house where my mentor greeted me with a scowl and a cup of hot chocolate.
Tac shuffles closer to press more of his weight against me, and his tufted ears swivel for attention.
I run my hands over the top of his soft head. “Good morning to you, too, big guy.”
His saucer-sized green eyes close to slits and one paw lifts to the edge of the bed.
“Tac, off,” Emil calls from behind me.
The paw thuds back down and Tac gives a beleaguered huff.
I twist around to find Emil standing at a closet besi
de the door, fussing with the cuffs on his dress shirt. The front of his shirt hangs open to expose the lean expanse of his chest and abdomen. Hard muscles ripple beneath pale, creamy skin, and my mouth waters. A hint of vanilla fills the room, and I have the sudden desire to know if he tastes like ice cream.
His eyes meet mine, all emotion shuttered behind an icy blue wall. “Ms. Pond. I’m glad to see you back to your senses.”
My heart thuds at the formality. He only does that when he’s distancing himself. “I’m sorry to intrude into your personal space.”
“No need for apology, I brought you here myself.” His focus shifts to the rumpled sheets. “The bed is large enough to share.”
Tac nudges against my stomach for attention, and I turn back to the monster kitty. “You don’t let Tac sleep with you?”
“No.” The word holds a snap of frost. “You’re teaching him bad habits.”
I shrug, unapologetic. Since I don’t use most of my bed, why not let him have the bottom two-thirds of it?
Something lands on the bed next to me, and I glance down to see Emil’s fluffy, pink robe. I peer back at him in surprise, but he faces the closet, a slender leather belt in one hand.
Hesitant, I pull the robe closer. It’s even softer than it looks, the thick material squishy between my fingers. I slip my arms through the sleeves, and the smell of ozone and snowfall fills my nose. “Thank you.”
“It’s dry clean only.” Is he implying that I’ll soil it by simply wearing it up to my room? Ready to shrug it off, his next words stop me. “Please don’t wash it. I would hate to have to replace it.”
“Kellen didn’t buy it for you?” When I first saw Emil wearing it, I assumed it was a joke, like what Kellen did when he replaced all my clothes with pink sweats and t-shirts.
Confusion fills his voice. “Kellen doesn’t buy me gifts.”
I press my lips together to stop myself from explaining. If Emil likes the robe, I don’t want to imply he shouldn’t. Not that a centuries-old demon will be bothered by my assumptions.
With a gentle push, I move Tac to one side before standing on wobbly legs. Every part of my body feels soft, like clay not yet put through the kiln. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it up the stairs like this.
Emil’s voice comes closer. “You may stay, if you need to.”
I force my liquid muscles to stiffen. “No, I need to get ready for work.”
“The day’s already over.” He steps into my line of sight, now dressed in a pair of fleece pajama pants and a thin, gray t-shirt that stretches over his lean muscles. His white eyebrows furrow with concern. “You’ve been comatose for the last ten hours.”
“What?” My hand lifts to rub at one temple. “I could have sworn...”
Gaze assessing, his head tilts to one side. “Are you hungry?”
Heat creeps up my cheeks. A good-sized ball of energy rolls in my stomach, left over from whatever happened while my consciousness was with Landon. “I think I fed enough already.”
“Human food, Adie.” He speaks slowly, and I can’t even muster up annoyance because, yeah, I’m pretty dense right now. “Do you want pizza? Chinese? Indian?”
A loud rumble comes from my stomach, and my face heats even more. “Pizza sounds good.”
“Do you need help walking downstairs?”
Tempted by the offer, I shake my head. “I want to go get dressed.”
“Do you need help with the stairs?” he offers once more.
My eyes narrow with suspicion. “Why are you being so nice? What’s in this for you?”
“Never mind.” He spins on one bare heel and walks to the door. “Pizza will be here in forty minutes. If you’re not downstairs by then, we won’t save any for you.”
As he leaves the room, my legs give out, and I plop back onto the bed. Well, shit. Way to punch a gift horse in the mouth.
Good job, me.
***
I make it to the kitchen before the pizza arrives, but only through sheer will and by carefully scooting down the stairs on my ass.
Emil and Tobias sit at the kitchen counter, heads together in a heated discussion that cuts off when I hobble into the room. Emil’s gaze flicks to me, then away in rebuff, while Tobias swivels in his chair to track my progress.
His thick eyebrows arch at my slow progress across the room. “All better?”
“Getting there.” As soon as I reach the center island, I lean a hip against it for support and slide along its length. I meet his black eyes. “Thanks for your help.”
Heat fills his voice, though it lacks the rumble of volcanoes. “It was a pleasure.”
My body clenches, and for a moment, I wish I remembered some of it. Then I squash the desire. If I know how good it is to be with them, it will make resisting harder. And I need to resist. I want more in life than to hop from one bed to the next, glutting on energy while being emotionally dead inside. Since taking on my corporeal form, I’ve watched enough sappy romance movies to know there’s more to life.
And just because I’m a demon doesn’t mean I can’t want that for myself.
It took observing Tally’s interaction with her guys to cement that desire within me. They’re caring, considerate, and protective of the little baku. Is it unrealistic to think I can find something like that for myself?
As I move the kettle onto the burner, I peek at the two men across me.
Tobias leans his elbows on the granite countertop. “What’s running through that head of yours?”
“Why did you guys help me heal?” I hunch my shoulders. “It would have been easier to just bring in a new succubus.”
“All of your stuff’s already here.” Emil’s voice sounds normal, without the usual hint of frost. “It would be inconvenient.”
My wings rustle in irritation at his easy brushoff. Here I am, trying to have an honest conversation, and he’s avoiding a real answer. “You could have just thrown it in the basement with the rest of the junk.”
Tobias presses his palms together, his gaze level. “It would take more time to screen a new succubus than to patch you up.”
I turn to grab three mugs from the cupboard. “Pretty sure my cousin, Julian, already volunteered himself to Kellen.”
With a distant rumble, the air grows heavier in the room. “The same cousin that disappeared when you were injured?”
Surprised, I pause in the process of lining the mugs up next to the stove. “He probably had a job after the soft opening, so he couldn’t have known I was hurt. Despite his appearance, he runs a profitable business that has him busy morning, noon, and night. I’m surprised he had time to come to the bakery last night.”
While Julian is self-involved and hides from conflict, he wouldn’t abandon me if I really needed him. Which reminds me, I need to call him and make sure my imps are okay. And I need to call Tally to see how the bakery faired.
But I don’t have either of their numbers memorized, and I didn’t find my cell phone when I got dressed, which means it most likely melted when I saved Torch.
My body goes through the motion of making hot chocolate and tea as my mind rolls. How did I know I could absorb Torch’s energy? Instinct threw me forward with no logic to the action. I don’t know much about ignis demons besides how to care for tiny ones like Torch. Did something in my succubus nature recognize the energy that made him bigger and knew I could take it from him? But other demons don’t shrink when I take their energy.
My eyes lift to Tobias and Emil once more. Definitely the same size as usual.
I slide Tobias’s cup of tea across the counter. “Well, for whatever reason, thank you for saving me.”
“Again, you’re welcome.” His fingers brush over mine, and his touch feels almost human.
How much did I take from him?
When I pass the hot chocolate to Emil, he forgoes the bendy straw and lifts the mug directly to his lips. Steam continues to rise from the cup as he sips, which means I drained him dry, too.
&nb
sp; Kellen can use the summer storms to replenish, as he showed earlier today, but the other two... I’m here to keep their powers at a manageable level, not strip them away. Whatever they claim their reason for saving me is, it cost them.
Now, what would it cost me?
***
After dinner, fatigue weighs me down, and I crawl up to my bedroom for more rest. I need to go back to the shop tomorrow and assess the damage. And a visit to the cell phone store is in order to replace mine. Hopefully, all my contacts automatically backed up or I’m screwed. I don’t have anyone’s number memorized.
Grabbing Torch’s heat-resistant box from the floor, I peer down into the open top as I walk to my bed. “How you doing, little guy? Do you feel okay after your adventure?”
He flickers blue in response, and through the flames that cover his body, I think I see his little arms raise toward me.
My chest tightens. “I’m sorry, I can’t pick you up right now.”
He dims to a pale orange.
“How about I buy gloves tomorrow?” I crawl up on the bed, careful not to tip the box. While he’s small again, he’s still capable of catching my blanket on fire. “Do you like head rubs?”
He flickers blue and white in a mini strobe light of happiness.
In the center of the bed, I fold my legs in front of myself and wedge his box in my lap before grabbing the ancient book about succubi that I borrowed from the library. The notebook and dictionary I use to decipher the thing come next.
Landon never taught me how to read the demon language, and I cringe now when I remember his words in dreamland. The fault there might lie with me and my impatience to escape. But what does power have to do with being able to read the lines and dots that fill the book?
The demon to Latin dictionary makes things better, but not by much. I feel like I’m losing most of the meaning, which is weird because, for every line I look up, I fill my notebook with an entire page of words. So many words, in fact, that I struggle to find the meaning in the jumble of letters.
