An Incubus Only Calls Your Name Once

by A M Boone

  Was he a demonic mafia boss on the side?

  He helped me out of the car, tossed his keys to the valet, and then led me inside—

  Holy shit.

  Shimmering crystal chandeliers dangled from the vaulted ceilings, while my feet felt alien on the marble floors. Men and women wearing jewelry and designer clothing that probably cost more than my parents made in a decade flitted past us.

  A couple sauntered by us, the woman tall, statuesque, and wearing a white dress which clung to her curves, and the man was a little chubby, and wearing a matching suit. They both looked me over, then said something in a language I didn’t understand. But anyone would know that look. Disgust. Like I was nothing more than an insect.

  Vincent glared at them, and they scattered. “Let’s go.”

  He herded me into a glass elevator, and slipped a key card between the mass of buttons.

  If he was staying in a place like this, what was he doing in a podunk town like Rose Creek? The only thing of value out there was the university, and that was only because it was for Cal rejects.

  My stomach dropped into my feet as the elevator shot up.

  I had to go into this with my head held high. I made my bed, now I had to lie in it.

  He took my hand gently, and led me to his room. A suite. Figured as much. It wasn’t quite big enough for twenty people, but was still lavish, and probably cost more for a night than I made in a month. It was closer to an apartment than a hotel room, to be honest.

  I followed him all the way to the bedroom. It was neatly furnished—

  Why was I worrying about the furniture?

  “Sit.” He motioned towards the bed.

  I complied, sinking into the plush sheets. What was he going to do to me? Touch me again? I hadn’t been touched like that in nearly two years.

  He sat next to me and brushed a few of my locs out of my face. “Good. The mark took.”

  What mark? I opened my mouth to speak, but his fingers grazed the side of my neck. A jolt of something between pain and pleasure shot down my spine. A quiet moan escaped my lips, and I clapped a hand over my mouth. How embarrassing.

  He got up and stood in front of me, smirking. While part of me wanted to smack it off his face, the other knew he was the man who saved me from my asshole of a husband.

  But it was like my body weighed three times as much. I couldn’t move.

  He took a step towards me, and my heart sped up. What was he going to do—

  He delicately ran his hands over my body, lifting my arms, skimming his hands over my waist, hips and thighs… His gaze softened, and he said, “Yes, I do think this’ll work. You’re a bit plumper than my last, but it’ll work.”

  I just barely managed a scowl. I was still carrying the Freshman Fifteen, sure, and I hadn’t been thin before college, but he didn’t have to put it like that.

  “Don’t give me that look. I’m not insulting you.” He gave me a small smile. A genuine one, not a shit eating grin. “Just stating a fact. You look like you want to kick me in the groin.”

  What the hell did he think? He ripped my abusive asshole husband to shreds, dragged me to some hotel in the middle of nowhere, and now he could do anything to me—

  “Let’s set a few things straight, all right? I’m not going to hurt you, I’m not going to kill you, and I’m certainly not going to rape you.”

  Did he just read my—

  “Yes.”

  He walked away.

  Feeling slowly came back into my limbs, and I took a deep breath. Okay. I wasn’t going to die horribly. Things could be okay. Maybe.

  He came back with the room service menu. “Are you tired? Hungry?” His voice was low and kind.

  I shook my head. My appetite was all but gone, and my heart was still pounding away against my ribs.

  “All right then… Any questions?”

  “Why’d you feel me up on a city street?”

  “We were making a contract?” He cocked his head to the side.

  Right. Something about his methods seemed a bit… extreme, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  “So… About Anthony?”

  “Don’t worry. You’re not going to get tossed in jail for murder. They’ll never find the body.”

  Oh.

  Oh.

  Then it dawned on me. My stomach lurched again, and I balled my fists into my jeans. “My god.”

  “What?”

  “You… You… God, I feel stupid just saying it.”

  The smile on his face faded to a small smirk, and my stomach tied into a knot. “What did I do?”

  I stared at the patterns on the carpet. “You… you ate him.”

  He shrugged. “It’d look suspicious if the battered wife confronted her abusive bastard of a husband, and then his mangled body appeared in a dark alley.”

  I bit my tongue. How could he be so nonchalant about this—how many people had he killed?

  “Was it quick?”

  “No.”

  A stupid question. Of course it wasn’t. He screamed for a good five minutes.

  During all those nights I’d spent alone, or crying on Santi’s shoulder… All those nights when he lied about where he was, when Santi called and said he was out at Cube, I dreamed about this. Dreamed about him getting thrown into space, dragged away by some monster, or stumbling into traffic drunk…

  But now that he was gone—really and truly gone, at my hand…

  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  With a shimmer of light, Vincent disappeared and reappeared with a small trashcan. “Not on the floor, please.”

  I snatched it from him and promptly threw up, sticky, acrid bile spewing out of my nose and mouth.

  He clicked his tongue. “When you’re done, the bathroom’s near the front door. Go clean yourself up.”

  I threw up again.

  On the other hand, this probably wasn’t the first time he’d done this, or the hundredth, for that matter.

  He rubbed my back lightly, and I gave him a small smile.

  “T-thanks.”

  “Are you all right? I don’t want you dying on me.”

  “I’ll get over it.”

  So now I was the indentured servant of some man-eating demon…

  I wiped at my mouth. Everything from my stomach to my mouth burned, and my vision was blurry. I stood up, a bit wobbly.

  “Left of the front door.”

  I stumbled towards the bathroom, my stomach still churning. But by now, nothing would come out, most likely…

  The bathroom was just as opulent as the rest of the hotel, with marble flooring and sinks, and a tub as big as my own bathroom. I ran some warm water in the sink and dipped a washcloth in it.

  While getting eaten was in my top ten ways to not go, Anthony deserved it. After all the nights I’d spent alone, all the nights he’d accused me of cheating on him with Santi, all the nights he’d punched me, shoved me, slapped me…

  Relief washed over me. I’d never have to deal with that again. Never have to deal with him again. God only knew what he would have done to me after being humiliated like that.

  I scrubbed my face and rinsed my mouth out with water before peering at myself in the mirror. God, I looked so much older—

  I squinted, leaning in a little closer. A mottled, black and red mark sat on the side of my neck. A cross, with a semi-circle on top of it. Inside the semi-circle was a smaller circle. I ran a finger over it. It was slightly raised, and the skin was unnaturally smooth, like a scar.

  But that wasn’t the only thing that changed. One of my eyes had turned a dark red. Just like Vincent’s. He had infected me.

  At the least, otherwise than that, I looked the same. Medium-brown skin, shoulder length locs… I hadn’t become a monster. At least not yet.

  I shivered. Was I going to become a flesh-eating demon like him?

  “I heard that,” he said from the bedroom. “I take offense to only being reduced to eating peopl
e. And no, I don’t think you could eat anyone if you tried.”

  I sighed.

  “Have you considered thinking a bit quieter?”

  Oh, fuck this. I came back out, wiping my hands on my jeans.

  He had shed his suit jacket and shoes, and was lounging on the bed, flipping through the TV channels. Strange. In that moment, he looked like any other man, if a bit oversized.

  “Are you sure you don’t want any room service? I heard this hotel has some amazing buffalo wings.” He changed the channel again.

  “I thought you only ate humans.”

  “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

  “Well, it’s definitely a… memorable first impression.”

  He finally turned to me. “I don’t like doing that. It’s not something I do every day. There are much cleaner and nicer ways to dispose of an undesirable. But I don’t suffer wife-beaters lightly.”

  Oh.

  He coughed and motioned for me to join him on the bed. “He’s currently giving me indigestion, if it makes you feel any better.”

  I stayed put. “But…”

  “But?”

  “You don’t look like you ate a man whole?”

  Some emotion flickered over his face. Shame? Guilt? “This isn’t my true form.”

  No shit. It sounded like a giant squid was in that alley. I didn’t know what his true form was, and I was ninety-nine percent sure I didn’t want to know.

  “So. You’re a demon.”

  “Yes…” He shrugged again. “You should look at the menu.”

  “How do you even afford all this? Yeah, I know, billionaire, but…”

  “I have a job. Connections. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t just lurk in the shadows twenty-four seven.”

  “Doing what?” I took a seat next to him. “Sex trafficking?”

  He clicked his tongue. “No. I’m an entrepreneur.”

  “Why are you so open?”

  Something about this still seemed surreal. Nearly dreamlike. I was sitting in a hotel room with the Vincent Aldana, who magically ate my abusive ex-husband. I should probably buy a lottery ticket.

  “I ate your shitty husband. I think that’s more than enough reason to not lie.” He pulled me a bit closer, and then wrapped his arms around me.

  I froze up, then relaxed a little. This was… interesting. Warm.

  Cuddling with my husband’s killer. I’d really opened a box I wasn’t quite so sure I could close.

  “I think I could get used to you,” he murmured, and a shiver went down my spine.

  I sighed. “What are we going to be doing? Breaking kneecaps? Selling people into slavery?”

  “Maybe a few kneecaps.” He turned me around, and I stared into his eyes. “When I’m not working, I make deals. Just like how I did for you.”

  “And they either have to work or pay.”

  “Correct.” He bopped me on the nose lightly with his finger. “If they refuse, I collect.”

  I blinked a few times. A demonic billionaire just bopped me on the nose. Was I dreaming?

  “Let me guess. You have some sweatshop in the middle of nowhere where you send all your wayward debtors?”

  He let out a quiet snort of laughter. “Some work for my business, some work in other realms.”

  Other realms existed? This was turning everything I knew about the world upside-down—

  He kissed my mark, and I squirmed, heat pulsing between my legs. “Once we clean you up a little bit… Better clothes, jewelry, maybe even some magic…”

  Magic. Daddy was always into woo, drawing weird circles around the front door of the house. My siblings bought into it, but I was the only rational one, putting my faith in science. But now… Anything could be possible.

  “Magic?”

  “You have more potential than you think you do,” he said. “But yes, a little protective, a little offensive… I’m not going to be with you twenty-four seven. Now that you have my mark… Well, I’m not without enemies. You’re going to need to protect yourself.”

  A chill went down my spine. God only knew what happened to his last “assistant.”

  “And how many people have your mark?”

  “Just you. Looks like it’s your lucky day.”

  I blew out my cheeks, and he laughed at me again. His laughter was light and musical, and something about it calmed my frayed nerves.

  “And you’ll need to be able to back me up.”

  “So… I’m just a thug.”

  “I wouldn’t lie in bed with a thug.” He pulled me even closer, just enough that I was pressed against his chest. His breathing was slow and steady, like a human’s, but his heartbeat came in threes. Weird.

  He coughed again.

  In one night, I disposed of my abusive husband, become indebted to a demon, marked with his symbol, and now I was cuddling with said demon. Grandma was probably spinning in her grave.

  “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

  “I’m sure.” The words came out too quickly, and he raised an eyebrow.

  Now that I had gotten a closer look at him, minus the fangs, red eyes, and hair that moved on its own… He wasn’t a bad looking guy. In fact, he was drop dead gorgeous.

  “You’re staring.”

  “Well, I…”

  He took my hand and dragged it down his chest and stomach, stopping just below the waistband of his pants. Hard ridges of muscle lied underneath his shirt, and his skin was smooth and hot—hotter than it should have been.

  I gasped, and a small cloud of black smoke seeped from my chest.

  He took a deep breath and shuddered, his voice husky and low. “That’s the best I’ve had since…”

  “What is that stuff?” I squirmed a little.

  “Your energy…”

  My blood ran cold. “You’re going to drain me dry?”

  “No…” He cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, his voice was back to normal. “As long as you keep eating and sleeping, you’ll be fine.”

  He let go of my hand but kept staring at me, his expression neutral.

  “Speaking of. As my personal assistant, another one of your duties is letting me feed off of you whenever I want.”

  “So… Just sniffing me?”

  “Not quite.” Something about the way he his eyes caught the light unsettled me. But then again, that was par for the course. He wasa demon, after all. “It’s only a specific type of energy.”

  I swallowed. Oh.

  “Such as?”

  He grabbed me by the hips and pinned me to his body. His cock rubbed up against my thigh, that intoxicating scent of smoke and roses filled my senses, and a sheen of sweat covered his skin.

  He was that type of demon.

  “Indeed,” he whispered into my ear. “That type of demon.”

  An incubus. Vincent Aldana, philanthropist, was an incubus. Something about the whole thing seemed crazy, but I’d already gotten my shitbag husband killed. This was just the cherry on top of the sundae my life had become.

  “Are you ready?” he asked. “To finalize the contract, we have to fuck.”

  How blunt.

  I nodded. “Yeah.” I’d already opened Pandora’s box. Fucking a sinfully hot guy was only a plus at this point.

  “Did he ever satisfy you?”

  “In the past…”

  He said nothing, and just unbuttoned his shirt, showing smooth, light brown skin… a shelf of pecs and a perfect six pack…

  I opened my mouth to speak again, but my mind turned to mush.

  “I see.” He crawled on top of me and ran his tongue over my mark. I nearly bit mine off, clapping a hand over my mouth—but god, all I needed was to feel his lips on mine, buck my hips, moan against his skin… He had barely done anything to me, and I was already aching for him, fighting the urge to slip a hand down my pants…

  Before I could do anything, he pulled away. “Don’t just be a dead fish, if you can help it.” His voice was dark, nearly guttu
ral, with an inhuman edge to it which made my heart race.

  “What?”

  “Make a little noise. Do something at the least.” His eyes flashed and turned a blazing shade of red, and his teeth were even sharper. His fingernails lengthened to harsh points and dug into my skin, but each one felt like a kiss.

  “But what if they hear?”

  He leaned back over, pressing his body to mine, and murmured, “Let them.”

  A quiet moan escaped my lips.

  “Good girl.” He straddled my thighs and pulled out his cock.

  I lost my breath. It was nearly as long as my forearm, and just as thick. Veins snaked under the skin, and he was uncut. It pulsed under his touch, black liquid leaking from the tip.

  “There’s no way in hell I can take that,” I muttered.

  “Let me guess.” Another smirk. “Your little husband was barely three inches long.”

  A bit of an overstatement. But compared to that… that monster? He might as well have been.

  “Don’t worry. It’s not going to hurt. I promise.”

  I trusted him. He saved me from my dickweasel of a husband, so he couldn’t be that bad.

  He yanked off my clothes, then chucked them across the room.

  “You look a bit apprehensive.”

  “It’s fine. Just… nerves.”

  “Let’s make another deal, Miss Delacroix. If I don’t make you come, our contract will be null and void. How about that?”

  “Sure.”

  “All right. Now, I want to feed. I need a nice, enthusiastic yes.”

  I nodded.

  He pressed his body back on mine, then trailed kisses around my breasts. Each one burned like fire, and there’d probably be burn marks on me once he was done.

  I trembled underneath him, only able to let out quiet moans.

  “Louder,” he murmured. “The more you cry out, the more power I get…”

  More black mist seeped from my body as he slipped between my thighs. He trailed a single finger between my legs, but stopped right before my clit. A knot of heat drew up, deep within my belly, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I had to keep my mind from shattering under his touch.

  Then featherlight kisses, this time down my left thigh.

  “Please,” I choked out. “Please let me come…”