An Incubus Only Calls Your Name Once

by A M Boone

  A.M. Boone

  An Incubus Only Calls Your Name Once

  Call Your Name Quartet Book One

  Copyright © 2020 by A.M. Boone

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by BZN Studios http://covers.bzndesignstudios.com/

  Edited by Cover to Cover Editing Services https://jadewritesbooks.wixsite.com/mysite-1

  First edition

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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  Thanks to all my friends who put up with me when I wouldn’t shut up about writing. You guys are awesome!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Thank You for Reading!

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  He’s at Cube.

  My heart sank as I read the text message from Santi. Of course he’d be there, at the sleaziest club in the entire town, the one that any college student with half a brain knew to avoid and locals only went there for one thing.

  I bit my lip. Did I finally break it off after all the years of screaming, cheating and beating?

  I stared at the message a bit more, curled into a ball on our bed, tears pricking at my eyes. If only Santi could be here in person, could be here to comfort me and be my right hand man.

  I took one last deep breath, then nodded. Yes. This was the night. I’d dealt with too much from him, and now I was going to be a free woman. I drove out to the club, white knuckled, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. This could only end badly. The battered wife confronting her cheating SOB of a husband? That was how women got killed. But if I did it in public, he’d be humiliated. Like all the times he humiliated me.

  I pulled around to the back and parked, taking a deep breath. I had to steady my nerves and harden my resolve. I wasn’t going to linger outside for two hours, lose my nerve, and then go home and cry like all the other times Santi told me he was out and about with some woman he’d gotten. Groping her, getting ready to bring her into our bed…

  I waited for a few moments, the flickering neon sign that hung outside the doorway nearly mocking me. An icy wind blew around me, and I pulled my threadbare jacket a little closer around me, shivering. Strange for Rose Creek. Usually, our winters were mild at best.

  I gritted my teeth and pushed the doors open. They let out a deafening creak, and I descended the stairs, my heart still racing away.

  The bouncer stopped me, and I flashed my ID before walking past him and scanning the room for that familiar crop of blond hair.

  The acrid smell of booze and cigarettes assaulted my nose, and I wandered around the room, ignoring the eyes on my back, and covering my nose and mouth with my sleeve. Oddly enough, the room was quiet, with only a few conversations, and the pounding beat of techno.

  But there he was, with some woman, his arm wrapped around her waist as if I didn’t even exist. My heart scrunched up, and I almost turned and left. He was laughing, smiling, leaving kisses on her collarbone and squeezing her ass. Figured as much. Why did he even marry me if he was going to feel up white women on the side?

  I swallowed, then tapped his shoulder.

  He turned around, slower than usual, since he was probably drunk, and then stared at me, as if I were a ghost. His blue eyes widened, and the color drained out of his face. Emotions flickered over his face I couldn’t read. Anger? Fear? Humiliation? Guilt? I’d never know what was going on in his head. The woman looked me over like I was a bug, then gave him the stink eye.

  “Eliana?” he asked.

  “Anthony…” I said quietly. “I know. I know about all of this. If you’re just going to treat me like this…” I yanked off my wedding ring. “It’s over. I’ve dealt with this for too long.”

  The bartender gave me a sympathetic look. She was red-haired and brown eyed, with pale skin and a tall, curvy build.

  “Why did you follow me?” he snapped.

  I cringed, but said, “I wanted to make sure. It’s over. I want a divorce.” I turned to leave, but he dug his fingers into my wrist.

  “Eliana… Baby. It was a misunderstanding. There’s nothing going on between us.”

  The woman glared at him. “You never said you had a girlfriend—”

  “Wife,” I spat. “Soon to be ex-wife.”

  “Baby—”

  I shook my head and yanked my hand away. “Don’t you ‘baby’ me. I’m done. I deserve better. Have fun with her.”

  I took another deep breath. God, that felt good. Ever since he’d changed, I’d only dreamed of confronting him.

  Before I could turn to leave, he grabbed my wrist again, and dragged me out of the club.

  “Let’s just talk this out—” The venom in his voice made my blood run cold.

  “What part of ‘it’s over’ don’t you get? The it? The over? It’s over!” I cried, wriggling out of his grip.

  His eyes narrowed. “So. That’s it? You’re leaving me?”

  “That’s it. I should have left you two years ago.” I dropped my ring. It clattered to the concrete directly in front of his shoes.

  I turned to leave. My chest felt lighter than it had in years. It was over. I was free.

  Now I needed to come up with a plan. I could probably have all my stuff moved out by next week if Santi helped me, and I could move into one of the dorms at Johanna Winston. If he tried anything, I could call Momma or Esme to back me up, and—

  I walked directly into a man’s chest.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, I—” My voice cracked as I looked up. And up. And up.

  Jesus Christ. This dude could probably break me in half with one hand, then wrestle a bear and win.

  He tossed back his hair. It was long, cherry red, and looped and coiled in loose waves to his hips. His eyes were a light brown—or possibly red—and bored into me, nearly glowing.

  I shuddered, then took a step back. Nope. Something wasn’t right about this guy. My stomach did a flip-flop, and my muscles tensed. Sticking around guys like him was a good way to get dragged into an alleyway and only seen again on the ten o’clock news.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. His voice was a rich baritone which made the hair on the back of my neck prickle.

  “Yeah. Perfectly fine. I’ll be going now.” I squeezed past him. Why was this guy so wide?

  “Is this him?”

  I rolled my eyes. Anthony again.

  “Is this the guy you’ve been cheating on me with?”

  Of course, he’d try to pass the blame onto me. He could do no wrong after all.

  “Excuse me?” the strange man said. “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

  “It would be, wouldn’t it?”

  He looked the two of us over. “All right. I don’t want to get involved in this lovers’ spat. Just leav
e her alone.” The man adjusted his tie.

  “This isn’t any of your business,” Anthony said.

  The man stared the two of us down, then sighed. “I don’t want to make it my business. I’ll only repeat myself once. Leave. Her. Alone.” Something sinister, nearly inhuman, crept into his voice, and a shock of pain went through my head. I fought the urge to clap my hands over my ears, my knees going weak.

  “I-I’m leaving,” I choked out.

  Anthony dug his fingers into my wrist, and I hissed in pain. “No, you’re not.”

  The man cocked his head to the side. “Is he bothering you?”

  “Soon to be ex-husband,” I muttered. “Treated me like shit and now wants me to stay.”

  “I see.” He turned to Anthony, and the look he gave him could kill a dead man. “I’m going to say it one last time. Leave her alone.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” he sneered.

  What an idiot. This guy was at least six-eight and three-hundred pounds, while Anthony was six-even and a hundred-forty soaking wet. This was going to end badly.

  “You don’t want to know what I can do.” His eyes flashed. “It’s late. I’ve had a long day. Just go.”

  My stomach clenched, and bile crawled up my throat. “While the two of you whip your dicks out, I’m leaving.” I snatched my hand out of his and walked back to my car—

  Anthony let out a strangled cry, and against my better judgment, I looked back.

  The man grabbed him by his collar. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on her.”

  He struggled in his grip, cussing and fussing, beating his fists on his chest…

  I swore under my breath. Great. The last think I needed right now was someone calling the cops because Anthony got his ass beat by a giant.

  Leave. That’d be the best thing to do. Let them duke it out, and visit him with divorce papers in the hospital a few days later.

  Or the morgue.

  The man turned back to me. “Has he hit you?”

  I choked on what I wanted to say. On all the times I wore sunglasses and scarves to cover up what he’d done and keep everyone in the dark.

  The man’s face softened, and he gave me a small smile. “Let’s make a deal.”

  “A deal?”

  “I’ll get rid of him, and you’ll give me something in return. One thing for another.”

  Getting rid of him… Really and truly getting rid of him forever so he couldn’t hurt anyone else… Something about it sounded lovely.

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  But if I’d known the world he was going to drag me into, I would have ran to the next state. Hell, even all the way to Canada.

  “All right.” His smile turned into a bloodcurdling smirk, but before I could say anything else, they both disappeared into the alley I thought he’d drag me into—

  Screams. Anthony’s screams. Screams that made the hair on my arms prickle, made my stomach lurch…

  Then wet, slapping sounds, like some horrible, tentacled beast was scraping the walls. Splatters.

  The screams died out to a low gurgle, and for a few moments, it was silent. Too silent.

  My legs were like lead. I couldn’t run.

  The man emerged a minute or so later, straightening his tie. “Here you go.” He smiled at me again. Were his teeth always that sharp?

  He placed a few objects in my hand. Anthony’s wallet. The rings he wore. His watch.

  I glanced back and forth between the objects and his face. It was final. I truly was free.

  Any other woman would have been disgusted with herself, but truly? I felt better than I had in years.

  “I offered you a deal, and you took it. Time to uphold your end.” He pulled out a small notebook from his pocket. “All right. I disposed of an undesirable.” He covered his mouth, and a sound somewhere between a cough and a hiccup escaped his lips. “Excuse me. Anyway, that service costs fifty thousand dollars, or ten years of work.”

  I choked. Fifty thousand dollars? I couldn’t afford that, I could never afford that, it was more than I made in a year…

  “I-I can’t afford that.”

  “You don’t have to pay it up upfront.”

  I swallowed down bile. Right. I made a deal. I… Oh, god. I killed him. While part of me couldn’t help but feel relieved, the other was disgusted. I’d gotten the man who I was supposed to die with—who I was supposed to die for—murdered.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m being rude. I offered you a deal and didn’t even introduce myself. My name is Vincent Aldana. And you are…?”

  Vincent Aldana, the philanthropist and billionaire, made deals with struggling college students? What the hell?

  My jaw dropped, and I shook, just staring up at him. “E-Eliana Delacroix.”

  “All right, Miss Delacroix. You have two years to pay your debt in full. I’m feeling magnanimous, since you’re a battered wife and all… No interest. That adds up to roughly twenty-one hundred dollars a month.”

  I was backed into a corner, and took the only out I saw… And now…

  “I still can’t afford that.”

  “Pity…” He pulled me a bit closer, just enough that I could get a hint of his scent. Smoke and roses. My head spun as I breathed him in.

  “What a pity, indeed…”

  “What are you going to do me?” The words came out of my mouth like mush. “I don’t want to die—”

  “You’re not going to die. Come with me.”

  I followed behind him, still woozy. If I ran, I’d wind up just like Anthony. And god only knew what happened to him. It sounded like he’d been ripped to shreds.

  “A few questions. How good are you at keeping secrets?”

  “Good.”

  “And following instructions? What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m good at that.” I nodded. “I’m getting my master’s degree.”

  “For?”

  “Abnormal Psych.”

  “So a psychology degree. Hmm.” He stopped in his tracks, and I nearly ran into him. “I see. I think know what to do with you.”

  “What is it?”

  “As I said before, ten years of work, and you’ll repay your debt. That’s the rule.” He lifted up my chin, forcing me to look at him. His touch was light, and his skin was warm—too warm.

  “I’ll do it,” I said firmly.

  “Good girl,” His breath was sweet against my skin. “You seem smart.”

  Against my better judgment, I looked him over. He had full lips, brown skin a few shades lighter than my own, and his eyes were red. Dark red, like blood.

  “You’re very pretty, Miss Delacroix.” He smirked, showing off a row of sharp teeth. Whatever the hell he was, he wasn’t human.

  “What are you?”

  “A demon,” he said, as if that explained everything. It didn’t.

  Also, what the fuck? Vincent Aldana was a demon? This kept getting more and more ridiculous. I almost laughed, but it’d probably be in my best interests to keep my mouth shut.

  “Now, to make this contract, we have to seal it with a kiss. Do you understand?”

  “Completely.” I nodded again.

  He pressed his lips to mine, and parted my lips with his tongue. His tongue was three times as big as a normal man’s, slithering down my throat, while his hands rubbed and kneaded my body, slipping up my shirt and down my pants…

  Black smoke drifted from my body as I choked, my lungs burning.

  He pulled back, bit the edge of his thumb, and then smeared pitch black blood onto my neck.

  God, it burned. The blood wormed its way under my skin and soaked into my entire being, as his hands kept me close to the edge of oblivion.

  “Come for me,” he whispered into my ear, then kissed me again. His lips were powder soft.

  As if I were under his spell, I did, heat pulsing through my entire body, my knees buckling underneath me. The only thing keeping me from slipping to the ground was his hands.

&
nbsp; “Good. The contract’s been made.”

  “That… was intense,” I choked out. My vision swam, and my body ached and throbbed.

  He wrapped his arm around my waist to keep me from falling, then walked me to his car. “all right. You’re going to be my personal assistant. My last one… Well… No matter.”

  His personal assistant? I was going to be the Vincent Aldana’s personal assistant?

  “Get in.” He opened the passenger side door.

  I stumbled into his car. It was some fancy thing… Maybe a Cadillac? A Lamborghini?

  He turned to me, and started his car. “I need an assistant for when I’m out and about. Someone who’ll help me collect me on debts.”

  People like me.

  “Where are you taking me?” The words came out more croaked than said.

  “To my hotel room.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it. Anything I said would probably be incomprehensible.

  * * *

  The car ride went on in near silence, no music, just my heavy breathing and the car rumbling on Rose Creek’s shitty pavement.

  He glanced at me again. “You’re going to spend the night with me, then tomorrow, we’re going to get you looking presentable.”

  “Will I still be able to go to college?”

  He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Possibly. But you need to remember one thing. When I call you, you have to drop whatever you’re doing and come to me.”

  I nodded.

  “Do you have a cellphone?”

  I took a deep breath, then said, “Yeah.”

  “Put this number in.”

  He gave me a number with a San Francisco area code.

  “What about my car?”

  “That car is going straight to the junkyard. How old is it?”

  “It’s a 1985—”

  “No.”

  “No?” My voice grew stronger, and my head finally stopped spinning. “But my stuff—”

  “No.” He shook his head.

  He drove us a few towns out from Rose Creek, and pulled up at a thirty plus story hotel. Probably where all the fat cats stayed. Knowing him, he had some penthouse suite big enough for twenty people.

  I tugged at the hem of my hoodie. I didn’t belong here. I was just a poor, Black, struggling college student thrust into the topsy-turvy world of the beautiful, rich, elite.