6. Cory
6
CORY
G od, the dean was condescending. Annoyingly, he was also right. I wasn’t making any sense. And he was the only person who seemed to have any information about what was happening to me.
“On my way here,” I said haltingly. “There was a car. A man. He gave me a ride. And then he said he needed to pull off, to sleep a little. I didn’t mean to fall asleep at the same time as him. I kind of thought he might murder me. But I was so tired, and I did, and then it was like—God, it was so real.”
“Go on.”
“In the dream, we were in the bathroom. Of the rest stop, where we’d pulled off. And I was naked. And he was, um, aggressive.”
“Did he initiate sexual contact? Or did you?”
“He did.” My cheeks were going to be permanently scarlet after this conversation. “He kept telling me I would like it. That it was time for me to learn—I mean, that my job was to—to get him off. It was the first time I’d ever done anything like that.”
“Your first time in a dream? Or in the waking world too?”
“Both,” I whispered.
I could still feel the driver’s hand in my hair. His cock in my mouth, hot and hard. The tang of sweat and precum. The tip hitting the back of my throat, me gagging on it, and how hard it had made me. My first time doing anything like that. And I’d loved it.
“And did you?”
“Did I what ?”
The dean laughed softly. “Get him off. I believe that was the expression you used.”
I bit my lip. “Yeah, I did.”
“And did you have an orgasm too?”
I didn’t want to answer that question. In the dream, I’d been manhandled and demeaned and put in my place. What did it say about me if I told the dean the truth?
“I did.”
My words were barely audible, but he nodded as if he’d expected that answer.
“In the dream only? Or did you have one in the waking world as well?”
“Both.”
I wanted to sink through the floor, but he didn’t seem to notice my discomfort. Considering the way he’d talked about arbitrary concepts and petty human concerns , maybe he really wasn’t aware. Maybe he talked about stuff like this all the time.
“I should have been more precise earlier,” he said after a moment. “A full incubus is a creature of the dreamworld, and has no need for sleep, as such. Humans briefly touch this world when they dream, and those dreams are what the full incubus enters. You, however, are part human. You can only enter the dreams of others while asleep yourself. The question of whether the dream you had was yours or someone else’s is, in truth, academic. The dream belongs to both of you. What matters is how much control you felt while in it. Did you feel out of control in the dream?”
I wasn’t sure. I had at times, but at others, when I’d been convinced it was just a dream, I’d told myself to enjoy it. It had felt so good. Natural. Right. But also humiliating, and disgusting, and somehow that had felt good too.
And that wasn’t even touching the dreams I’d been having about the creature I could never see. The one who could read my mind, set my body on fire, and melt me into pleasure.
Part of me wanted to ask Dean Mansur if he knew what those could be about, but I couldn’t quite do it. Those dreams felt private somehow. Even if they were dangerous, I couldn’t bring myself to talk about them.
“I’m still not sure I feel right about this,” I said. “Manipulating, influencing. It still feels wrong.”
“Even if that’s what it takes for you to live?”
I shrugged. Exhaustion was creeping over me again.
The dean’s eyes flashed. “Why are you here then?”
“I don’t know!” If I sounded petulant, so be it. “I still don’t know what’s happening. What the hell was going on with that raven? Who were the monsters chasing me? I didn’t even know what Vesperwood was two days ago.”
“Yet still you searched. You fought to get here. Your whole world turned upside down, but you didn’t surrender. You made it here, against long odds. You wanted to survive. Have you truly changed your mind so suddenly?”
“I didn’t know what survival would entail,” I muttered. “Maybe the world would be better without me. I’ve never amounted to much.”
The dean stared at me. “If you don’t care about yourself, perhaps you will care about others. Vesperwood is warded, but the moment you step off our grounds, your powers will begin to leak again. They’ll act as a beacon to any mercenary, any agent of evil, who wishes to find you, harm you, or kill you.”
“The tene—tenel something?” I said, unable to suppress a shudder. “Ash mentioned them.”
“Tenelkiri. They’re certainly one group I’d be concerned about.”
“Why are they after me?”
“That’s something I hope to discover, if you stay. But if you leave, I can’t offer you any protection.”
“They only went after me,” I said. “They attacked me twice, but they didn’t go after anyone else.”
“Luck.” His voice was hard as nails. “Pure, blind luck that you’ve been alone, and right in front of them, each time. The tenelkiri have no compunction about killing anyone who gets in between them and their quarry. Or killing people for information. Or killing simply for the fun of it. You might be willing to risk your life, but are you willing to risk those of your friends and family back home?”
His words twisted like a knife in my gut. I didn’t have any friends or family back home. Not anymore. But there were still people I cared about in Churchill. I couldn’t bring those monsters back with me. I didn’t want to be the reason anyone died.
So now you care when people die? You care more about strangers than you do about your old man?
I gasped. It was like my dad was in the room with me, growling into my ear. His voice was so real, I wanted to twist and look for him. But he was dead, dead and gone. I was just imagining things.
The dean watched me, saying nothing. Just waiting for me to make a choice.
I looked down at my hands, rubbing the knuckle of my left index finger with the pad of my right. Maybe there was a way to do this dreaming without intruding on people. Maybe if I learned to control my powers, I could find a way to get what I needed without having to manipulate anyone.
In dreams, our barriers are fewer. It’s harder to lie to ourselves.
I looked up at Dean Mansur. “So how do I learn? How long do I have to stay here?”
“You learn through study and application, in private lessons. As for how long it will take, that depends. Weeks? Months? It depends on the incubus, from what I understand. On their determination—and their resistance.”
“From what you understand?” My brows knit. “You’re not an incubus? Or you’ve just never taught one?”
“Both.” He seemed amused. “And I won’t be teaching you.”
“Then who is going to teach me?” I couldn’t keep the frustration out of my voice. “When do I get to meet a real incubus?”
“You don’t.” The dean shook his head. “Your kind is not so common. You are uniquely powerful, and uniquely vulnerable. I would offer you an experienced incubus in control of every inch of their power if I could. But Vesperwood hasn’t seen someone like that in a long time.”
An incubus in control of their power. Would that be me someday? If I could control myself, then at least I’d know which desires were mine, and which were someone else’s. If I could control my desires, maybe I’d finally… finally…
I couldn’t even finish the thought. I was drifting off again. Keeping my eyes open was impossible.
“Cory? Cory, I need you to stay with me. Cory—dammit.”
The dean’s hand shot out again, and he shook me by the shoulder.
“Cory, look at me.”
I didn’t want to. I wanted to go to sleep. To turn my brain off and be done with all of this. But there was steel in his voice, and I couldn’t ignore the command. I brought my gaze to his.
Had his eyes always been that blue? The thought fluttered across my mind. I could have sworn they were a different color before, but now they radiated a blue so deep and rich they were practically violet.
“You’re slipping away,” he said. “I was hoping we’d have more time, but it looks like we’re hitting your limit.”
“My…limit?” I repeated the words in a daze.
A growl escaped him. Instead of answering, his hand moved to my face, cupping my chin. His eyes really were purple. I could barely keep mine open.
“Deep breath, Cory.”
He whispered a word that I couldn’t catch, and a ripple of cold ran through me, like jumping into a glacial lake. I shivered, then blinked. The entire room was tinged with a violet hue. And suddenly, I felt much more awake.
“What—what did you do?” I asked him.
Dean Mansur didn’t answer me at first. Instead, he turned my head, first this way, then that, his long fingers holding my chin. He must have seen something that satisfied him, because he nodded and finally withdrew his hand.
“I brought you into a trance,” he said, laying his hand on his knee.
“A what?”
“An altered state of consciousness,” he said. “Not quite a dream, but close enough for our purposes. For tonight, anyway.”
He inhaled, and his nostrils flared. His posture was still that of a man completely at his ease, but his chest rose and fell visibly, like a runner at the end of a sprint. Whatever was happening took effort from him.
There was the slightest trace of a flush in his cheeks, which only served to make the rest of his features stand out more. I hadn’t noticed before just how good-looking he was, but now that my head was clearer, I had a hard time not staring. A confidence that bordered on arrogance rolled off of him, and I couldn’t help noticing how attractive that was.
“You were biddable, which helps. It’s much harder when someone fights. I’d rather avoid force, if possible.”
“Force?” I asked, my words breathier than I’d expected.
“Suffice it to say, anyone can be made to enter this kind of trance, but not everyone surrenders to it quite so easily.”
I swallowed. His body was long and lean and still relaxed in his chair. He hadn’t moved an inch in my direction. And yet, the moment he’d mentioned surrender…well, I’d gotten hard.
I didn’t want to look down. Didn’t want to call attention to it. But I knew the thin wool blanket wasn’t doing much to mask my current state of affairs.
“Why did you make me—I mean, why did you bring me into a trance?” I wondered if he could hear the nerves in my voice. I certainly could.
“Because you were on the verge of slipping into a coma, and I did not invest all this time in you simply to lose you now.”
“Coma? But I just woke up! Why would I—”
“I told you, your incubus nature has needs that go beyond your human body. To be frank, an incubus can only go so long without having sex in the dreamworld. And I fear you’ve reached your limit.”
“My limit?” I stared at him, my heart pumping wildly in my chest. “But I haven’t—that is, I’m not—I mean, I haven’t even had sex. Ever.”
The dean tsked again. “I misspoke. I haven’t worked with anyone this new in quite a while. Sex need not include penetrative intercourse. An orgasm, Cory. How long has it been since your last one?”
Oh, God. I wanted to die. Why did learning to control my powers—if that was even possible, if all of this was even true—require spilling my most embarrassing secrets to a man I barely knew, and an intimidatingly good-looking man, at that?
“The dream at the rest stop. The one you told me about. Was that the last time?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. Meeting his gaze was unbearable. “Um, no. No, there was another one—right before I got here, actually. At this place called the Balsam Inn?”
“Were you asleep or awake at the time?”
“Definitely awake,” I said quickly, before pausing. Was I sure I could tell the difference? “At least, I think so. There were these two other guys there, and I saw them, and one of them said—it doesn’t matter what he said. He just—he talked to me, and then I, well, yeah.”
“The other men. Were they acting normally?”
“They were total strangers,” I protested. “I have no idea what’s normal for them. Is it normal to suck another guy off in a bathroom? To call him a good boy ?”
One of the dean’s eyebrows went up a hair, and a trace of a smile ghosted across his lips.
“I see. Let me rephrase. Did their mental states appear altered? Were they acting as though they were drawn to you, almost as though they were sleepwalking?”
I blinked. That sounded a lot like what had happened with the bartender at the Balsam Inn. But not the men in the bathroom. Unless ‘ drawn to me ’ meant the lumberjack telling me to get down on my knees. But I didn’t think that was what the dean meant.
“No.” I shook my head. “No, they weren’t like that.”
“That explains it, then.” Dean Mansur nodded to himself. “If the last dream you had was the one at the rest stop, it’s been approximately forty-eight hours since the last time you engaged in sex acts and reached orgasm in a dream . Which is what you need to survive. Apparently two days is your limit. Add in the fact that you’ve yet to even learn how to enter a dream intentionally, and frankly, it’s a wonder you’re still alive. If you went to sleep in this state tonight, I’m not sure you’d wake up.”
He said it like he was commenting on the longevity of a jacket, or a kitchen frying pan. Not like he was talking about a living, breathing person. Was he always this matter of fact when discussing whether the person sitting in front of him would live or die?
“But you just said there wasn’t another incubus here to teach me,” I said. “How am I supposed to learn control, if it’s so important?”
“Let me worry about that,” he said. “You do need to learn, but even if I could teach you, you are in no condition for a lesson right now. Tonight, we need to build your strength back up.”
“How do we do that?”
“That, Cory, is entirely up to you.”
He smiled another one of his private little smiles. I had the vague sense he was making fun of me, and I knew I should find that annoying. I was annoyed, but not about being teased. I was annoyed that his superior smile only made me harder.
“What do you mean?”
“The trance you’re in right now isn’t a dream, but it functions very much like one. Whatever you concentrate on is what you’ll see.”
“What?”
“Why don’t you think back to the last person you saw to whom you were attracted?”
I glanced away. That would the dean himself, but that felt weird, so I tried to think of someone else. I didn’t have to think too hard.
The lumberjack from the Balsam Inn sprang to mind immediately, and as soon as he did, the dean’s form began to shimmer. One second he was there, and the next, the lumberjack was sitting in his chair, watching me.
“Wait a second. Are you—did you just—what’s happening?”
“Whatever you want to happen,” the lumberjack said, and what was crazy was that it was his voice .
I’d only heard him say like, twelve words, tops, but his voice was burned into my brain, and it was definitely different from the dean’s. The dean’s voice was cold and remote, like icy mountaintops. The lumberjack’s voice was warm and rough, like a campfire and a swallow of whiskey.
“But are you—are you him ?” I asked. “Or am I just imagining this?”
“No, and yes. I’m him as you remember him. But I’m just a figment of your imagination, nothing more.”
“But Dean Mansur—”
“The dean pulled you into the trance, but your mind is doing the rest. If you stop fighting it, that is.”
I shook my head, more confused than ever. “But if you’re just a figment of my imagination, how can you possibly know all this?”
It was messing with my head. Was I still talking to the dean? Could he see inside the trance, out there in the real world? And if I moved in the trance, did I move out there too?
“What’s the hold-up?” the lumberjack asked.
“I…I don’t know what I should do,” I stammered.
He laughed. “What was it you said? In the dream at the rest stop, the man you were with got aggressive. And you liked it?”
My face had to be scarlet, judging from the heat in my cheeks, but I nodded.
“Well, then, I guess you’ll need to get on your knees.”
My heart thumped. That was what the lumberjack had said to me at the Balsam Inn. There was no way the dean could know that. This had to all just be in my head.
Which probably meant I looked like a fucking idiot, sitting slack-jawed back in the real world. Dean Mansur was probably laughing at me, and I was—
“It wasn’t a request,” the lumberjack said. He leaned forward and pointed at the floor between his feet. His forearms were muscular and covered with a light coating of dark hair. God, he was hot.
Before I was even conscious of what I was doing, I threw the blanket off and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. That gave me goosebumps. I was just in my hoodie and boxers. I began to slide to my knees, but he held up a finger.
“Uh-uh. You know the rules. You’re mine, and you know how I like to see you best.”
I swallowed. The rules? What kind of person would insist on rules for the guy he was hooking up with? Furthermore, what kind of person would obey? I bit my lip, then grabbed the bottom of my sweatshirt and pulled it over my head.
Me, apparently .
The lumberjack reached out and hooked a finger under the waistband of my boxers.
“Now these.” His eyes were hungry, and before he leaned back, he gave my cock a rub through the fabric. “My favorite part.”
A frisson of excitement ran down my back as I slid my boxers off my hips and down to the floor. I sat back on the edge of the bed, then looked at him timidly.
“My beautiful boy.”
A shiver rolled through me. No one had ever called me that before. I’d never been in a situation where someone would. It shot straight to my core.
“So shy and so perfect. Touch yourself for me. I can tell you want to.”
“I want to touch you ,” I said, surprising myself. I wasn’t surprised that I wanted to touch him, exactly. I couldn’t deny that anymore. But I was shocked I’d been brave enough to say it out loud.
Up until now, I’d just been following commands. Admitting what I wanted, though—that meant I was actively creating this situation. Making it happen.
“All in good time,” he said. “First, just let me enjoy you.”
Humiliation and desire rushing through me, I began to stroke my cock. I was already leaking precum, so I scooped up a strand and used it to help my hand glide across my skin. My cock throbbed under the attention.
“Spread your legs. Let me see you.”
I did as I was told, widening my legs so that every inch of me was on display. The lumberjack leaned back in his chair and rubbed a palm across the bulge at his crotch. His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire. It made me bolder.
I swirled my fingers around the head of my cock, letting out a moan of pleasure. He grunted in surprise, and I moaned again. I could see the naked want in his eyes.
“Can’t fucking take it anymore,” he said, standing up suddenly. “You know what you do to me. I’m not going to last long with you looking like that, and there’s no way I’m coming anywhere but down your pretty little throat.”
He didn’t have to tell me to kneel this time. I did that automatically, my skin hot against the cool wood floor. And I knew, without needing to be told, what he wanted next.
I brought one hand to the top of his jeans, the other to his thigh. I pressed my face to his crotch, inhaling deeply as I rubbed my cheek against his bulge. The denim was rough, but I didn’t care.
“You like that?” His voice was so deep.
“Yes,” I whimpered. I couldn’t believe I was letting myself do this, but I also didn’t seem capable of stopping. Maybe it was easier to let myself go now, knowing this wasn’t real.
“Look at me when you answer,” the lumberjack said. He tilted my chin up with his hand, his fingers calloused and warm.
I rubbed my face against them, then pulled away, but only so I could slip his middle finger into my mouth. I sucked it in long and slow, caressing it with my tongue. When I slid his finger out, I smiled up at him.
“Yes, I like it.”
“Then show me.”
I brought both hands to his fly, undoing it and pressing my nose to his boxer-briefs. He smelled a little sweaty, and a little like woodsmoke. I could have died happy right then, just floating on that smell.
Fingers trembling, I pulled the waistband of his boxer-briefs down, freeing his cock. Fuck. It was huge. Granted, I didn’t have much—or any, really—experience when it came to the size of other guys’ dicks, but his was definitely on the larger side.
I hadn’t gotten a great look, back at the Balsam Inn, because it had been in that other man’s mouth. But my stomach somersaulted looking at it now. I was supposed to fit that in my mouth? How?
And what would it feel like in my ass?
I shook my head, scared of that thought. I needed to concentrate on the task at hand—or mouth, as it were. My hand shook as I grasped the base of his cock, and he noticed.
“It’s okay,” he said. “Go slowly. Just lick the tip first.”
The instructions sent another warm shiver down my back. I did as he said, sliding my tongue around the head of his cock, and my eyes shot open. I wasn’t quite ready for the taste of it—tangy, musky, almost sweet—and I definitely wasn’t ready for how much I liked it.
“Good job. Now slide your lips around it, taking the head into your mouth.” I did, relishing the taste, and he smiled. “That’s good. Keep using your tongue, working around it.”
Maybe it should have embarrassed me, needing directions like this, but I liked it. It took the guesswork out—I didn’t have to worry if I just did what the lumberjack told me.
In the dream at the rest stop, everything had moved so fast. I hadn’t even had a chance to worry. Part of me had liked how forceful the driver had been in that dream, but I liked the lumberjack’s praise even more.
“That’s good. Now slide more of it into your mouth. Suck it in, then pull off. There you go, that’s right. Get it nice and wet. Don’t forget your tongue.”
I settled into a rhythm, allowing myself to get lost in the motion, the taste, the heat and size of his cock filling my mouth. After a minute, he slid a hand through my hair, coming to rest at the back of my head.
I leaned forward, the same as I had in the earlier dream. The lumberjack’s cock hit the back of my throat, and I gagged. His hand tightened in my hair and he pulled me off. With his other hand, he tilted my chin up.
“Where did you learn to do that?” His tone was severe.
My cheeks heated. “I didn’t—I just—I thought you wanted me to.”
“I’ll tell you what I want. You got that? If I want it rough, I’ll tell you. If I want it nice and gentle, then that’s what I want.”
Shame and pleasure coursed through me, swirling together in sweet humiliation. I wanted him to know I’d do anything for him. Wanted him to know he just had to ask.
“I don’t mind,” I said breathlessly. “You can use me if you want.”
I couldn’t believe I’d just said that aloud. But God help me, I meant it.
He stroked a knuckle down my cheek. “Who taught you to think that way?”
“No one,” I whispered, dropping my eyes.
I shouldn’t have said that. Shouldn’t have even thought that. There had to be something wrong with me.
I wanted this, but I didn’t want to admit I wanted it. I’d liked what the driver did at the rest stop, but I hadn’t wanted to admit that either. Why did I want to be used anyway? Some part of me must be deeply fucked up.
“Hey. Look at me.” The lumberjack tilted my chin up again. “I don’t know who you’ve been with before me, and I don’t know what you were taught to think. But when you’re with me, you’re mine. And I like to take care of what’s mine. So you’re going to let me do that, you got it?”
My whole body was tingling now. I nodded.
“Use your words.”
“Yes,” I said softly. “I got it.”
“Good. Prove it to me.”
I took his cock into my mouth again, grateful to be given a second chance. Grateful we didn’t have to keep talking about how I’d messed up, or how messed up I was . If I was sucking his cock, I didn’t have to think about it either.
Precum leaked from the tip of his cock, and I swirled it around on my tongue. Between that and my spit, his cock was so wet, and it made slick sounds as I plunged it in and out of my mouth.
I loved the tang of his skin. Loved the thatch of dark hair that tickled my nose. Loved the heat rolling off his body.
I wanted to touch all of him. Wanted to kiss every inch of him. Wanted to explore all his secret places. I raised my other hand, sliding it underneath his shirt, but he just pushed it away.
“What did I tell you? I’ll let you know what I want.”
I pulled off, my heart pounding. “But I want it. I want you. All of you.”
The longer this trance went on, the bolder I got. The less I worried about the why ’s and how ’s of what was happening, and the more I lost myself in my desires, in the freedom of what I could say here—and what I could do.
“Time enough for that later,” the lumberjack said. “Tonight, I want to see you enjoy yourself.”
I dropped my hand, bringing it to my cock hesitantly.
“That’s it. Let me see you stroke that cock.”
It was so sensitive, throbbing at the lightest brush of my fingers. I was close to the edge. I knew I couldn’t last long if I did what he asked, but he gave me a firm look, so I took myself in hand and began to stroke.
“Now both of us.” He tapped the tip of his cock on my cheek. “Eyes on me.”
I looked up, his cock filling my mouth, and locked eyes with him. It was intimate and intense and a huge rush. I pulled off after a moment, but only so I could lick his balls, doing my best to fit each in my mouth, lavishing them with my tongue, while still looking up.
He stroked a hand through my hair again. “Good boy. Such a good boy.”
And just like that, just like at the Balsam Inn, his words were too much for me. I came, whining in pleasure and dismay. I should have been able to last longer, should have held back. I closed my eyes in shame, and felt his cock push farther into my mouth as he groaned.
“Fuck yes.” He slid out, then thrust in again, and again, and again, until something pulsed, and I felt hot, sticky cum pour down my throat.
My cock was so sensitive, so over-stimulated, but I wanted to wring every last drop of pleasure from this moment. I didn’t stop touching myself until he grunted one last time and pulled out.
He ran his hand through my hair again, and suddenly he was shimmering. The whole room was shimmering, actually, and in the blink of an eye, the violet hue faded away. I was back in my bed, and the dean was back in his seat, watching me, like he’d never left.
“What was—were you—” I broke off, shaking my head. I felt dizzy. “What was that? Was that real?”
“Real enough. Which is to say, it was close enough to an incubus’s dreamstate to be what you needed.”
“But did you—were you there for that? Were you watching? How did it even work?”
“Cory, I have better things to do with my time than watch an eighteen-year-old have a sex dream. As for how it works, I couldn’t explain it to you in a way that would be meaningful without three years of magical study. The point is, it worked. Or at least, I’m assuming it did.”
He nodded in the direction of my waist in a way that somehow managed to be elegant. My cock was no longer tenting up through the blanket, and the inside of my underwear was sticky. I flushed, and he smiled, polite and restrained. I wondered if there was ever a situation in which he wasn’t polite and restrained.
“Yes.” I shifted in bed, still feeling a little disoriented. “It worked.”
“Good.” Dean Mansur stood up so quickly, I barely saw him move. One moment he was seated, the next he was standing, and the chair was silently winging its way back behind the desk. “That should keep you safe for tonight. Tomorrow, your classes will start. I regret that you’ve missed the first semester, but it can’t be helped. You’ll simply have to catch up.”
“Wait a second,” I called as he moved towards the door. “Please, don’t go. I have so many questions.”
“A state of affairs that I hope will continue for many years. An inquisitive mind is a blessing, Cory.”
“No, I mean like—like regular stuff. Am I supposed to stay here tonight? Do I have a room? And where do I go tomorrow? How do I know what to do?”
“Ah.” His smile reappeared. “ Those questions. Fair enough. Tonight, you’ll stay here. There’s a change of clothes for you in that cabinet.” He gestured at a large wooden armoire on the far wall. “Ash will come back to greet you in the morning. He’ll help you find your classes and get your bearings. Anything else is more than you need to know tonight.”
He put his hand on the door handle, then paused and looked over his shoulder. “Oh, and Cory?”
“Yeah?”
“I know tonight was a lot for you to take in, so I made allowances. But beginning tomorrow, you’ll address me as Sir or Dean Mansur. Understood?”
“Oh.” I blinked. “Yeah. I mean, yes. Sir.”
His expression was unreadable. “Good night, Cory.”
Once I was alone, I climbed out of bed and went straight to the armoire. I desperately needed a change of clothes. There was a small bathroom through a door in the corner, with a shower stocked with shampoo, conditioner, and soap. God, I needed a shower. But I wasn’t sure I could stay awake long enough for one tonight.
I crawled back into bed, pulling the covers up tight. I’d found Vesperwood. I’d found way more than I’d ever expected. And if the dean and Ash were to be believed, my life was never going back to normal. I still didn’t know why those tenelkiri things had attacked me, but honestly, they felt like the least of my worries at the moment.
An incubus . Was that really what I was? It was hard to wrap my brain around it.
Always knew there was something wrong with you .
My dad’s voice echoed through my mind, and I slid further under the covers. Maybe if I stayed here long enough, I’d learn how to get him out of my head. Or maybe it was what I deserved, for feeling relieved after he’d died.
I rolled over and stared into the darkness, disgusted with myself. There really was something wrong with me. What I’d let myself do tonight, even if it was only in some sort of trance, still wasn’t right.
I didn’t want to think about it anymore, but according to Dean Mansur, that was all I’d be able to think about until I got this under control. And control was something I desperately needed.
I just had to hope I could find it fast—before my desires got the better of me.