An Incubus Only Calls Your Name Once

by A M Boone

  “By a demon?”

  “No. Something else entirely.” His voice was curt enough that I probably shouldn’t pry. “I should have noticed it when I got there, but… It was probably a last ditch effort to fend me off since he knew he didn’t have my money.”

  The rest of the car ride went on in silence until he pulled up to his parking garage.

  “Will you spend the night with me?” he asked.

  I froze. He actually wanted to spend time with me?

  “I have practicum tomorrow.”

  “I’ll get you to class on time.”

  Oh. This was just a hit and quit. Just a quick fuck before he dumped me at my apartment and didn’t talk to me again until he needed to feed, fight, or collect from someone.

  “You have such little faith in me, Miss Delacroix.” He coughed. Yeah, he looked god awful. Whatever magic Neil did really fucked him up. His hair was limp and plastered to his face and neck, while his face was ashen. Even his eyes were dull.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’ve gotten into worse scraps.”

  He helped me out of his car, tossed his keys to the valet, and we went up to his apartment.

  I swallowed and fidgeted as we rode the elevator. I’d shot someone. A living person. Granted, he was possessed by something otherworldly and probably beyond my comprehension, but still…

  The elevator doors opened with a quiet ding, and Vincent flopped onto his couch.

  “Was it like this with Daniel?” I asked. “Could he kill?”

  “We’re not discussing this tonight.” His voice was strained.

  That was a yes. He was better than me in every single way, and I just…

  He raised his hand. “Miss Delacroix—”

  Then he did a double take and stared at his hand. His eyes widened, and the color drained out of his face. What was wrong with him—

  He had six fingers on his left hand.

  Chapter Seven

  Vincent swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and just stared at his hand.

  Had he always had six fingers? I didn’t gotten a very good look at his hands before, so…

  His right hand had five fingers. Was having extra fingers normal for demons? No, it couldn’t be. I mean, sure, I knew very little about them, but that still sounded wrong.

  “Is that… normal?”

  Wait, no. I’d seen his hands the night we ate dinner together, and he didn’t have six fingers then. Was he just shapeshifting extra limbs to fuck with me?

  But he wouldn’t be reacting like that if he was trying to fuck with me—or would he? I didn’t have any idea how his mind worked, and…

  He left the room, shaking.

  Against my better judgment, I followed him into his bedroom. He was sitting at his desk, still trembling.

  A picture of him and Daniel sat on his desk. They were holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes… As I stared at it, I pulled my suit jacket a little closer. God, he’d been a beautiful man, both inside and out.

  This was his sanctuary. A place I shouldn’t have followed him to.

  “We need to talk,” I said quietly.

  He didn’t even look at me.

  “Vincent… What’s going on? Did Neil curse you or something? Are you going to die? Mutate? I just want to know—”

  “It’s not important.”

  I bit my lip. Well, he was right about that. It really wasn’t any of my business. But I was going to make it my business. I was supposed to be his field assistant, his right hand woman.

  “It is important!” I cried. “I… I don’t want you to die. You’ve done so much for me—you saved my life. If you didn’t get rid of Anthony, he could have killed me. He would have killed me one day.”

  “I’m not going to die any time soon, if I can help it.” He crossed his legs and put his hands in his lap, staring at me intently.

  “Why do you keep pushing me away?”

  He froze up, as if I had slapped him. That was the absolute least helpful thing I could have said. He had been partners—lovers—with Daniel for years, and I’d known him for barely a month.

  “I… I know I’ll never be a replacement for Daniel. I don’t want to be. I’m not as good looking as him, as close to you as you were with him, but…”

  He sighed and stared at his hands. “Miss Delacroix—”

  “Call me by my name.”

  “Miss Delacroix. I’m fine. Everything’s going to be all right.” He raised his left hand. Five fingers. He’d shapeshifted it away.

  This still didn’t feel right. What was going on? Why was he keeping so many secrets?

  “Why did Neil’s blood magic only affect you?”

  “It’s a long story. Not one for tonight.”

  Dear god. Talking to this man was like talking to a brick wall.

  But I understood. If he kept it strictly professional, just fucking and collecting, he wouldn’t run the risk of catching feelings. He wouldn’t have to face the fact that I, a squishy barely-a-witch, could die, or get killed at any point. He wouldn’t get his heart shattered again.

  “Cubi don’t fall in love easily. In fact, most of us can’t,” he said. “It ruins things. Everyone… when I fell in love with Daniel, I was ostracized. A cubi as powerful as me, falling in love with a mere human? ‘It won’t last,’ they said. ‘You’re just going to hurt yourself,’ they said. And they were right. I did. When he died, part of me died with him.”

  And in that moment, he wasn’t the all-powerful demon who’d killed my husband and changed my life forever. He was just a normal, broken, man.

  I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he snapped. “I’m stronger than you think I am, I promise.”

  I just squeezed his hand again. Fair. He’d survived getting chucked out of a fifth story window, after all.

  Bitter laughter escaped his lips. “Let’s shower together.”

  “What?”

  Oh. I could read between the lines here. Let’s fuck in the shower.

  “You heard me. Let’s shower together.”

  “Okay.” I shrugged. “I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”

  “I have some clothes that’ll fit you.”

  I followed him into his bathroom, and he closed the door behind us. Strangely, unlike the rest of his apartment, it was plain. The tub and shower were separate, and the tub was as big as a jacuzzi. The tile felt strange under my feet.

  Vincent started stripping, kicking off his shoes and slipping out of his suit jacket. For a moment, all I could do was stare as he dropped his shirt to the floor. Fuck, he was built. Not overly so, like a bodybuilder, but enough he had some solid size to him. Did he like being that buff? Was that even his true form?

  A small puff of black smoke oozed out from my chest, and I glanced away, my face red hot.

  Then the pants. His legs were just as solid as the rest of him, and flexed as he moved around… And dear lord, his ass… You could bounce a quarter off of it.

  As if he’d read my mind—or most likely, he did—he bent over to fiddle with the shower controls.

  He had a mark on the small of his back, the same one that was on my neck, but unlike mine, it seemed to be carved into his skin and didn’t glow. I reached out a hand towards it, but he flinched away before I could touch it.

  “Don’t.”

  “Sorry.”

  It was magical, that was a given, but why? Was it a cubi thing? Or did it have to do with his father?

  He tossed me a washcloth and a shower cap, and I tucked my hair into it.

  “Are you going to shower completely clothed?” He cocked his head to the side.

  My face went warm again. I’d been too busy ogling him to undress. Way to go. I yanked off my clothes and joined him in the shower.

  The water was hot, but not too hot, and eased away all the aches, pains and tension I’d picked up over the past twenty-four hours.

  “I’m so proud of you,” he murmur
ed, gently massaging my shoulders.

  I sighed, my shoulders slumping. “Why?”

  “Shooting Neil. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  I shrank under his touch. I really didn’t need to think about that right now. It was almost like I was a completely different person. The Eliana Delacroix from a month ago hadn’t even seen a gun in real life before, let alone shot one, but this Eliana was willing and able to kill.

  What if I didn’t miss? What if I killed him?

  And he could still be dead. If no one found him, or he couldn’t heal himself, he’d die. And it’d be all my fault.

  “You did the right thing,” he whispered into my ear.

  On the other hand, he was right. Whatever Neil did to him could have killed him or worse, and I put a stop to that. But still… the memories made my skin crawl.

  He grabbed a bottle of body wash and squirted some onto his washcloth before gently scrubbing my arms and upper back. I relaxed a bit and let him touch me. I deserved this. His hands drifted lower and lower until he was softly running the cloth over my ass.

  He didn’t say anything, but there was a subtle change in his magic—in our bond. Is it okay?

  I pushed back towards him, and he caressed my ass and slipped a single finger inside of me. I gasped and squirmed a bit under his touch.

  “Good girl,” he said quietly.

  This was just like when Anthony and I first had sex. Granted, ours was a lot more fumbling and in my parents’ considerably dingier bathroom, but—

  All those pesky thoughts fell out of my head when he moved his hand. Every thrust hit that sweet spot inside of me, and arousal pooled deep within me. He used his free hand to pin my wrists to the wall and bend me over.

  “One day, I’ll tell you the truth, I promise.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a moan.

  “That’s it,” he said, the words coming out a deep, demonic rumble. “More. You don’t know what you do to me…”

  I tightened around his fingers, biting my lip so hard I drew blood as he reached into my body, mind, and soul, wresting energy from my core.

  “I-I’m coming,” I choked out. My knees gave out as I came, and he held me steady as waves of never-ending pleasure wracked my body. I cried out wordlessly, squeezing my eyes shut.

  After I came back to the land of the living, we showered in silence.

  He handed me a frilly nightgown. Huh. When he said he’d have clothes that would fit me, he didn’t lie. The nightgown skimmed over my curves and hugged me in all the right places. He took one look at me, and licked his lips, his eyes flashing red.

  But at the least, he looked better now. His hair curled up to his shoulders, with beads of water still clinging to it, and was a rich, lush red. His eyes glowed with magic to the point where my heart raced just looking at him.

  He led me back to his bedroom and we snuggled into bed together. While I was half expecting him to be the type who slept in the nude, he wore a pair of black silk boxers… and nothing else. Well, it made sense. What if there was a fire or earthquake? I wouldn’t want to have to run outside nude.

  * * *

  The next morning, I put my clothes back on, he dropped me off at my apartment, and that was that.

  “Good job out there,” he said, grinning. “We have two appointments next week, one on Wednesday and one on Friday.”

  “Right. I’ll see you later.”

  He nodded and drove off.

  I walked back up to my apartment and changed clothes, then got ready for class. I wore my sunglasses, as per usual, but went without the scarf. If anyone asked, I’d just say it was some newfangled tattoo.

  Or die if there were any Mother of Light cultists around.

  When I went outside to walk to class, Santi was hanging out near the pool.

  “Hey,” he said, giving me a small smile.

  “Hi. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” He gave me another smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “How about you?”

  “I’m alive.” I shrugged.

  We walked towards campus together. Santi gave me a few glances, but didn’t say anything.

  Something welled up, deep inside my chest, and tears pricked at my eyes.

  “Ana?! Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  “I killed someone last night,” I choked out, my voice hollow.

  “What? Who? Did the shyster make you do it?”

  “N-no,” I said. “We were doing a debt collection… And the mark was a mage. He was possessed by something… otherworldly, and it—something it did made Vincent almost die. I shot him to make it stop…”

  “Oh, Ana…” He wrapped his arms around me. “It’s all right. We all have to do things we regret in our lives.”

  His lips just barely grazed mine as we embraced, and my heart skipped a beat. Could I see myself with Santi? He was my best friend, my confidante, my right hand man, but could I take that step? He wanted to. He wanted it more than anything. But with Vincent around…

  I sighed. The last thing we needed was for him to see this, swoop down with the fury of five billion suns and smite Santi, but something about his embrace seemed right at the moment.

  “Thanks. It was weird. The magic he did made Vincent grow a sixth finger on his left hand. Nothing else. He got rid of it, but I’m still worried.”

  He pulled away from me, then shrugged, his face a dark shade of bluish-red. “Like I said before, there’s rumors he’s not just a cubi, but I couldn’t tell you if they were true or not. Cubi are notoriously secretive.”

  “Oh.” I wiped at my face. Something about being around him was so calming and lovely. A needed change from whatever the hell Vincent was. Soft, nice… Didn’t eat people… I gave him a small smile, and he matched it.

  “I’m surprised a mage would make a deal with a demon though—especially a cubi. They’re not known for being the most… accepting of supernaturals.”

  “Yeah. Vincent told me.”

  “Do you feel better?” he asked. “I hate seeing you cry.”

  “Yeah, I do. Thanks.” I smiled at him and he squeezed my hand. Maybe for now we could stay in limbo.

  “So what are you doing for winter break?”

  “Go home. I haven’t seen my parents in a while, and… Did you know my dad was a witch?”

  “Yeah, I knew. When you’re around other supernaturals, you get a little niggling feeling like you left the oven on. Whenever I came over your house, I felt it, so… He probably knew I was an esper.”

  “Oh,” I said again. “Well, he didn’t tell me, so I’m going to go talk to him about it. You?”

  “Probably just stay with Auntie.”

  “You’re not going to go back to Desert… Dream… D—”

  “Dzramave. And no, I can’t. My parents were on the wrong side, and all espers on that side were either banished, imprisoned, or…”

  Murdered. Executed.

  “So if I stepped foot there, I’d probably get tossed back to the human world, or worse.” He shrugged again. “Maybe I’ll go on vacation though. I’ve heard Erzahov is lovely this time of year…”

  “Erzahov?”

  “The Shade world. I have a few friends who live there.”

  I smiled and nodded, as if I knew what he was talking about. I’d have to ask either him or Vincent what a Shade was later.

  “Though, I’ve always wanted to see Dzramave. Auntie always said it was like a Disney movie, bright and colorful… But I guess it’s not meant to be.”

  Something about the wistfulness of his voice made my heart hurt.

  I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He gave me another sad smile. “I’m here in the human world, with you, so I’m happy.”

  * * *

  The next day, after class, Anthony’s parents showed up at Johanna Winston.

  With the entire police force in tow.

  Well, since Rose Creek was a tiny town in the
middle of nowhere, with nothing to show for it except the university, they weren’t much. Just a few fat, balding old white guys who’d bust a cap in my ass if I even twitched the wrong way, but it was the principle of the thing. They finally put up instead of shutting up.

  They were questioning people on campus from my Psych 520 lecture, and as soon as Anthony’s mother saw me, she tugged on an officer’s sleeve.

  The entire group of cops converged on me and Santi, and he stepped a bit closer to me, his eyes flashing blue.

  “I’m not going to let them hurt you, even if it means outing myself,” he said quietly.

  “Thanks.”

  My blood still ran cold. Would psychic powers even do anything against being shoved to the ground and shot execution style while I begged for my life?

  I didn’t want to die here! I was too young, too—

  “Are you Eliana Delacroix?” the youngest—though that wasn’t saying much—asked.

  “I-I am. Why?”

  “We want to take you in for questioning about the disappearance of Anthony Harrison.”

  I swallowed. “All right. I’ll come down there.”

  Vincent! I cried mentally. Could he even hear me? He’d spoken to me telepathically before. Maybe I could do it over our bond. Vincent, I don’t care if you’re fucking twenty people right now, I need your help!

  No response. Fucking figured. The one time, the one time, I needed his help, he’d be either AWOL or ignoring me. What happened to me being safe, well fed and happy? I couldn’t be that if I was under the prison after they convicted me of killing my shitbag husband.

  But something about the whole situation put me off. The cops seemed a little… robotic? Most of the time, they could barely keep their contempt for the college students from the big city under wraps.

  Santi squeezed my hand.

  “Are you Santiago Dominguez?” he asked.

  “Yes.” He stared the officer in the eye.

  “We also want to talk to you.”

  “Okay. I’ll go with her.”

  Anthony’s parents gave me the world’s biggest death glares. They really thought I’d done it. Even thought they had circumstantial proof at best.

  Santi and I walked to my car, and I drove down to the police station, my stomach churning.

  He turned to me. “Do you think they’re going to arrest us?”