An Incubus Only Calls Your Name Once

by A M Boone

  “Not really. I’m not a huge car person. I just need something that’ll get me from Point A to Point B without exploding or crapping out on the highway.”

  “I see. Well, Mr. Aldana said you deserve the best, so here some of our higher end models…” She led me to a bright blue car. “This is a Four Series Coupe. Do you like it?”

  I nodded, even though my stomach was tied in knots. I shouldn’t have asked about Daniel. Now, it’d be the only thing on my mind for the rest of the day.

  But I followed her around the car lot, smiling and nodding when need be. I could have any of these? Even a convertible?

  I’d always joked with Anthony and Santi in undergrad that once we’d settled down and gotten good jobs, we’d go on a road trip down I-5. But now, it’d never happen.

  Well, maybe it could. Maybe Santi and I or… Vincent and I could.

  “This one.” I rested my hand on the trunk of a black convertible. “Do you have it in silver?”

  “I believe so.” She beamed at me. “A good choice.”

  We went back to the lobby.

  Vincent was fiddling with his phone, but perked up as soon as he saw me. “Has she chosen something?”

  “Of course, sir,” she said, still grinning. “An M850i xDrive Convertible. One of our newer models.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Can I test drive it first?” I asked.

  Vincent let out a quiet snort of laughter. “Might as well.”

  She nodded, then went into a back room, returning a few minutes later with a set of keys. My future keys.

  Something about this was still surreal. Dreamlike, almost. Like I’d open my eyes and I’d be back in bed with Anthony, not knowing if this was the day he’d kiss me or kill me.

  She handed me the keys, then led us to a silver convertible. “Take your time. I’ll be waiting!”

  I hopped into the driver’s seat, and Vincent climbed into the passenger’s seat.

  “You do have your license, correct?”

  “Since I was sixteen.”

  “Good. Don’t crash it.”

  I adjusted the mirrors, and gave him a dirty look. “Wouldn’t it be a drop in the bucket to you, Mr. Billionaire?”

  “Cheeky. I like it.” He gave me a sly grin, his eyes flashing red. “Well, go on then.”

  I started the car, then pulled out into the street. The seats were softer than my last car, and the ride was smooth. I didn’t even have to have a lead foot to make it go.

  “Wow,” I breathed.

  “Isn’t it nice to live in the lap of luxury?”

  “Yeah, actually…”

  I drove aimlessly around the town. It was more or less deserted, which was… strange. Vincent checked his emails as I drove.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. Let’s head back to the dealership, and we’ll seal the deal.”

  I nodded. “So… Is the saleslady in the loop?”

  “Yes,” he said, picking at his nails. “Half-Shade, half-human, if I recall correctly.”

  “And any supernatural can breed with a human?”

  “Also yes. Why do you want to know?”

  “Just curious.” I glanced at him. Should I ask him about what happened with Santi the other day?

  No. It wasn’t any of my business what kind of supernatural he was. He was a cubi, but he could more than just a cubi… Was his father human? Some other supernatural?

  He stared at me, and that strange feeling, like he was running a fingertip down the back of my neck, came over me again.

  “A word of advice, Miss Delacroix. Asking about blood purity is considered to be rude, if not a grave insult, in most supernatural societies.”

  When we got back, she was waiting for us in the doorway, chattering away on her cellphone. She ended the call and smiled. “Did you enjoy the ride, Mr. Aldana, Miss Delacroix?”

  I matched her grin. “Yeah, I did. I want this one.”

  “Good, good. Now, will you be paying in installments, or—”

  Vincent rolled his eyes and handed her a black American Express—

  Wait. A black American Express? He was a billionaire, yes, but I’d heard black American Expresses were only a myth.

  “Pay it off.”

  “Right away, sir. I’ll come back with the paperwork…” She scattered and returned a few minutes later with a bundle of paperwork.

  She led us over to a desk, and we sat across from her. “Well, you know where to sign.”

  He nodded and signed here, initialed there…

  So. This was my car now. Holy shit. I fought to keep my breathing steady.

  Well… It wasn’t completely mine. Vincent owned it, and whatever he gave me, he could easily take away. The car, the money, the clothes, my life… And if it wasn’t him, it’d be someone who hated him and wanted to see him suffer by killing me.

  “Well, Miss Delacroix, you can drive it off the lot. It’s yours now.” She gave me another small smile.

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, thank Mr. Aldana.”

  “Well, Miss Delacroix, I’ll leave you and your new purchase to get acquainted. Remember that we have meetings tomorrow, Thursday, and Saturday.” Vincent handed me a plastic bag. Oh. It had all the stuff from my old car in it.

  I nodded.

  I drove home in my new car, still reeling. What if the cops pulled me over? What if I crashed it? What if someone crashed into me?

  * * *

  I pulled into the parking lot at my apartment and got out, stretching.

  “Eliana?”

  I whipped around. Oh, this was just fucking lovely. Anthony’s parents were standing outside their car.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, it’s nice to see you,” I said, forcing my voice to stay even. “Have you heard from Anthony?”

  “No,” his father said. He was the splitting image of Anthony, if he’d been thirty years older. Slim, tall, with graying blond hair and piercing blue eyes.

  “Where did you get a new car from?” his mother asked. On the other hand, his mother, Nancy, was short and plump, and didn’t resemble her son at all.

  Ugh. This was going nowhere good.

  “My boss bought it for me,” I said. It wasn’t a lie, at the least. “My old car got totaled.”

  “Oh.” She stared at me, and I gazed at my shoes. She didn’t need to see my claimed eye. “You got a new job?”

  “Yeah. Doing secretary work for some fat cat in SF.”

  Why were they even here? Anthony’s parents moved to Eureka after he graduated high school, I should have gotten more warning than that…

  Once they saw that my apartment was packed up and had a broken window, everything was going to go to hell. Straight to hell.

  Vincent’s voice echoed clearly in my ears. Don’t panic. I can handle this. Tell them you’re tired and you’re going to bed.

  O-okay. Could he even hear me?

  “You know, I’m a little tired. I spent the day working on my dissertation, and I have lecture tomorrow, so I’m going to go to bed. I’ll talk to you more about this tomorrow,” I said, trembling. “Where are you staying?”

  “At the Holiday Inn.”

  “Well, I’ll come visit tomorrow, and we can talk more about Anthony.” I forced a smile and turned on my heel to leave.

  What did Vincent mean by “handling this,” anyway? Eating them? Using his spooky demon powers on them? Draining them dry—ew. No one needed the mental image of Anthony’s crusty-ass parents getting fucked by Vincent.

  I went back to my apartment, even as their eyes were on my back. If I didn’t figure out some way to resolve this, I was going to go to prison for killing my husband. Even though technically, I didn’t.

  * * *

  The next morning, I went to lecture, and just like the day before, Vincent showed up afterward. So much for keeping it in mind. No one needed to know I was working-for-slash-fucking the Vincent Aldana. Billionaire, philanthr
opist, demon…

  He gave me a small smile, and unlocked the door. “Miss Delacroix, you look well.”

  “What are you going to do about Anthony’s parents?”

  “I said I’d take care of it, and I will,” he said firmly. “Are you packed?”

  “Yup.”

  “Good.” He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. “So. Your magic trainer, Gloria, is waiting for us at my apartment.”

  I swallowed. Magic. What if I didn’t have any? What if I was just a human? Would he break the contract and drain my life force to pay my debts?

  “It’s very rare that a witch, even a fourth like you, has absolutely no magic. It may be weak, but it’s there. You just never got to unlock it.”

  “Right.”

  The drive to his apartment went on in silence, and I spent my time watching other cars go by.

  By the time we got there, it was dark.

  We did the whole song and dance of Vincent helping me out of his car, giving the valet and elevator attendant their tips, while I tried not to lose my lunch. What was witchcraft even like? Stirring bubbling cauldrons? Hexing people? Chanting under the moonlight and dancing in fields naked?

  A smile twitched at Vincent’s lips, and I rolled my eyes. The first thing I was going to ask her to do was how to make mental shields.

  An older woman, probably in her late sixties, was sipping tea at Vincent’s dining room table.

  “Miss Delacroix, this is Gloria Robinson. Gloria, this is Eliana Delacroix.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” I said, and offered her my hand.

  While she was older, she wasn’t frail in the slightest, and her handshake made my hand ache. She’d probably been an absolute stunner when she was younger, with curly, salt and pepper hair, dark brown skin, and piercing blue eyes.

  Blue. She was definitely supernatural. I’d never seen eyes quite so blue before.

  “Good evening,” she said quietly, then turned to Vincent. “You said she was descended from Xavier?”

  “Yes. Does she have any magic?”

  She circled around me, but it wasn’t predatory. More like a grandma tutting and getting ready to pile more food on your plate.

  “Hmm. I don’t sense anything from her,” she said, and my heart dropped into my stomach. “Are you sure she’s a witch?”

  “She’s a Delacroix, she better be.”

  She gently touched my cheek, and I met eyes with her. I really didn’t have any magic? I was just a human? Even though three weeks ago, I didn’t even know magic and non-humans existed, something about it was kinda sad.

  “Nothing?” Vincent asked.

  “Nothing.” She clicked her tongue. “Your father was Robert, correct?”

  I nodded, then sighed. Once again, I was nothing, Maybe Anthony was right.

  Gloria poked and prodded at me a little. Maybe she’d be able to unlock some latent powers in me.

  But she just shook her head. “Nothing. Well, Vincent, when it comes to fourths, it’s just the luck of the draw. Some can be as powerful as full-bloods, some are just human.” She shrugged.

  “So there’s nothing you can do?” The way he said it made my skin crawl.

  Well, this was it. This was how I lost ten years of my life—literally.

  “Well, there’s one thing,” she said, and we both perked up. “But I’d need permission from both of you.”

  “Why?”

  “It could kill her.”

  “Do it,” he said. “She needs magic. I’m not going to let history repeat itself.”

  “What?” I choked out.

  “Of course. My condolences on your loss, by the way.”

  He raised his hand. “Just do it.”

  “Eliana?” she asked, pulling out a silver marker from her purse.

  On one hand, if something went wrong, I could die. On the other, I could get a taste of this supernatural underbelly of the world that was thriving under my nose.

  “I’ll do it,” I said firmly.

  “All right.” She uncapped her marker. “Please strip.”

  “What?”

  “To do this spell, you have to be completely naked.”

  I glanced back at Vincent, and he gave me an expectant look. I took a deep breath. All right. I was going to do this. If I didn’t have any magic, he’d just take my life force and ditch me, and with Anthony’s parents looming over me…

  “Okay.” I slipped out of my clothes, and she motioned for me to follow her.

  The three of us went into one of Vincent’s bedrooms. It was neatly furnished, and—once again, worrying about the things that didn’t matter. This could be the last thing I ever did. My heart pounded against my ribs, and I curled in on myself, shivering in the AC.

  “Lie down,” she said, her voice low and even.

  I crawled onto the bed and laid on my back, sinking in to the point where I probably wouldn’t be able to get out on my own.

  She drew arcane symbols on my stomach, arms, and around my breasts with the precision of a surgeon, while Vincent stared on, his face unmoving. So. This was witchcraft.

  I squirmed a bit under her touch, and she tutted.

  “Don’t move. If any of these symbols are out of alignment, you’ll die instantly.”

  I swallowed and tried my best to mimic a statue.

  More symbols, now down my hips and legs. The scratchiness of her marker set my teeth on edge, but I needed to do this. I needed magic, I needed to be useful to Vincent, or I’d just wind up in his belly along with Anthony.

  I glanced down. The symbols were a medley of stars and spirals and squares in bright silver ink. Something about them were beautiful, yet made my heart race even faster.

  “All right, that’s all of them. Now, Eliana, my dear, no matter what sensations you feel, you can’t scream. You can’t move. You just have to let it run its course. Do you understand?”

  “Completely.” I swallowed. What the hell did I get myself into?

  “Good.” She tapped three of the symbols, one on my left thigh, another on my right breast, and a third on my stomach. They flashed a blinding blue.

  And at first, nothing happened. Was I so useless that even a magic amplification spell would fizzle out—

  My skin itched, like insects were crawling under my skin, around my organs… I swallowed again. I had to stay still. I had to let this work.

  “Don’t move,” she said.

  I glanced at Vincent. He was just gazing at me like a scientist would a lab rat. Great. He didn’t really care. Granted, we’d only known each other for three weeks, and he’d lost his confidante, lover, and right hand man six months prior. He didn’t have a reason to care—

  I swallowed down a gasp. The itching slowly faded to burning, and the symbols turned red. I squeezed my eyes shut. I shouldn’t have agreed to this. I was going to die, in the middle of some witchy ritual, practically alone…

  “I know you want to scream, but you have to focus.” Her voice was so far away.

  “What’s it doing?” Vincent asked.

  “It’s going to go into her soul, and if she has any magic, even a drop, amplify it.”

  The burning sank into my skin, and it was like someone set me on fire. My body burned from head to toe, and a scream bubbled up, deep within my gut, but I swallowed it down.

  Santi… I should have told him what I did—what I was going to do. I should have been there for him like he was for me. I should have…

  I opened my eyes again. How long had it been? I floated above my body, watching the entire scene go down. Gloria chewed on her nails, while Vincent mouthed something I couldn’t hear.

  Had I died? Had the pain gotten so bad I was having an out-of-body experience? Strangely, it was peaceful. I hovered above everyone, just watching, and—

  I snapped back into my own body, and gasped for breath. “Is it over?”

  “It’s over,” Gloria said. “It seems to have worked…”

  I looked myself over. All the
symbols were gone, and my heart finally slowed. I ran my hands over my arms and legs, shivering.

  “Good job, Miss Delacroix. You didn’t die.” He crossed his arms and turned to her. “Do you feel anything now?”

  “Can I put my clothes back on?” I asked.

  Gloria put her hand on my forehead and nodded. “It worked. She barely had any to begin with, but I should be able to teach her some simple spells. Don’t expect her to be able to level cities or anything.” She pursed her lips.

  Witchcraft could do that?

  “As long as she has something.”

  “Though, I wouldn’t recommend this as a first resort. Teach her to protect herself non-magically.”

  Vincent nodded.

  My body felt… strange. Tingling and alive, and it was like someone took a blinder off my eyes. I tested my weight on my feet, then grabbed my clothes.

  “By the way, Vincent,” she said idly, “that’s extra.”

  “Because of course it is,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You have my credit card number.”

  “All right, Eliana, my dear, let’s get started.”

  “I have some business to take care of,” he said. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  He vanished.

  “So… Gloria,” I said, pulling on my shirt. “How did you meet Vincent?”

  “I’m a friend of a friend,” she said. “Anyway, let’s get started.”

  I nodded.

  She led me back to his dining room table, then took a seat. “Witchcraft is practiced by using spell circles to pull in wild magic and bind it to your own to do your bidding. Wild magic is produced by the ley lines, which are on every fault line. Do you get it?” She pulled out a stack of sticky notes and a pen.

  “Makes sense.”

  As much sense as magic could, at the least.

  She drew a medley of circles and stars on the sticky note, then tapped it. It rose into the air, then burst into sparkles and rained down onto the table. “Witchcraft is only limited by how much magic you can bind and a steady hand. If you mess up a mark, it’ll blow up or catch on fire, so be careful.”

  “Okay.”

  Blow up? Like firecracker blow up, or nuke blow up?

  “But I’m going to be blunt. You barely had any magic to begin with, so even with the amplification spell, you’re not going to be able to do much.”