Instructed by the Summoner (Halloween Temptation #7)

An Unexpected Lesson

S ex demons were terrible at filing.

Xak should know, he was pretty sure he was Hell’s premier expert on infernal organization. You couldn’t flunk out of two demonic colleges and be on your way to a third without handling a truly distressing amount of punitive busywork.

Death demons were meticulous. Tricksters had Hell’s most state-of-the-art systems, with organizational rules that still gave him headaches. Sex demons, on the other hand, seemed to live by the motto of “drop it somewhere, and trust someone else to deal with it.”

Unfortunately, Xak was “someone else.” Endless rows of filing cabinets under buzzing electric lights and drifts of paper that nearly reached his knees at points. And Xak. There to deal with it all.

“I’m not so inclined to indulge you as my predecessor, young Xak.

You may consider this an opportunity to meditate on your future within this department.

” The lecture repeated itself as Xak picked up another stack of papers and started sorting them by date.

Literally, thanks to Lord Daskimos leaving a bit of magic behind that had it echoing again and again through the room.

“You’ve delayed long enough. You must schedule your first summons with a suitable candidate, or I’ll have no choice but to expel you. Ours is not a theoretical discipline.”

It wasn’t like Xak meant to delay. Not at the start, anyway.

The first time, he’d been recovering from a curse.

The second, the summoner had canceled on him.

And the the third time… Well, fine, the third time had been on purpose.

He’d heard about that woman. She liked demons because humans wouldn’t survive her preferred style of pleasure.

Since then, he’d made every excuse he could think of to put off being summoned. He just knew he was going to screw it up. He screwed everything up. And he couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t cut out to be an incubus after all.

The problem was that he wanted to be an incubus. Theoretically. Studying at the college of sex magic (or, as the students called it, Screw U) was the happiest he’d ever been. It was only since Lord Daskimos had taken over as the Chair of the department that things had gotten difficult.

Well, what could you expect from a man who acted like he was still in the 16th century, insisting everyone call him Lord ?

Xak sighed, reaching down to scoop up another pile of papers. Old tests, this time. Figured that the exams he’d sweated over ended up trampled under foot and forgotten. As he sorted them by name, he tried not to think about his friends, off celebrating Halloween as only demons could.

Then he felt the tug.

Xak had never been actually summoned (it wasn’t like virgin incubi appeared in a lot summoning tomes), but he still recognized the feeling. An all over pull , compulsion and curiosity both, a must mingled with should and a smoky, metallic burn at the back of his throat.

The texts all had the worst words for what happened next. Unmaking . Discorporating. Re-stitching . Every Hell-scorched one of them sounding like an existential crisis waiting to happen.

It didn’t hurt as much as he’d expected.

Actually, it didn’t hurt at all, though there was a strange sense of pressure when he came back together within the smoky confines of a summoning circle.

Ten fingers. Two horns. Two small, batlike wings.

No hooves. And he still looked basically like himself, so the summoner hadn’t gotten creative on him.

(Another idea that made his skin crawl. What if he came back together with dicks for fingers?)

But all in one piece or not, he was still in a summoning circle. Exactly the situation he’d been avoiding for the last year and a half. If Lord Daskimos was behind it, Xak was going straight to the Dean.

The smoke cleared slowly, giving Xak’s anxiety time to build.

The circle was chalked in the American style, five lit candles defining its limits.

Tidy, he had to admit. Nice clean lines.

Then, finally, he could see into the room beyond.

A sofa. Pale gray walls decorated with large, colorful textiles wherever there wasn’t a bookshelf.

And a pirate.

Wait, he’d been summoned by a pirate?

Don’t be stupid Xak. Humans have Halloween, too.

A human, wearing the remains of a pirate costume.

About Xak’s height, at a little under six feet, with similar dark hair and dark eyes.

The likeness ended there. Warm brown skin in contrast to Xak’s paler complexion, and soft where Xak was cut.

Thick was the word for it, meat there that a proper incubus might get to squeeze and explore.

Filipino features, with a softness around his eyes that implied an easy smile.

He wasn’t smiling, though. And he tasted of frustration and hurt. That … probably wasn’t a good sign.

“Please, please, please tell me you didn’t summon me to kill anyone.” Ok, that had to be the least intimidating response to a a summoning ever. “You can’t compel me, you know.”

Not much better. And, considering he could taste true magic in the air, not exactly true. Hellfire, he’d known he’d be bad at this.

The summoner stared at him. Xak stared back.

“Wait, what?” The human shook his head. “Are– Ahm. Yes. I know. I wouldn’t– Do people usually summon incubi to kill people?”

For a second, Xak was relieved. That wasn’t the response of someone who’d accidentally summoned an incubus while attempting to raise a death demon. No, that was the answer of someone who knew exactly what he’d summoned and had done it on purpose and oh fuck Xak’d been summoned for sex.

Which was literally his major and he was totally for it. Really. In theory. In practice…

Well, what practice?

Now wasn’t the time. Focus on the positive. No murder. No dick fingers. Surprisingly appealing human mage in a pirate costume.

“It’s not difficult to summon the wrong class of demon,” Xak said, sounding more prim than menacing. A prim incubus. That was it. Xak was changing his major. “But, no. People don’t generally summon incubi to kill people. Still, I’m not…”

He could taste the man’s interest, mingled with the magic. Anyone could summon a demon if they knew the technique. But true magic was rare in humans. He’d not expect to feel the rush of it, lust and power, on his first summoning. It was very intriguing.

Distracting . He meant distracting.

“Not…” Very distracting. “You were intending to summon an incubus?”

“I intended to summon you, an incubus, yeah.” The human sounded almost offended that Xak might think otherwise. “With your name, not a class generalized summons; I was hoping for sex, not an exorcism-to-be. Do all demons come equipped with paperwork?”

“Only when we’re on filing duty,” Xak answered absently, trying not to be distracted by the way the man’s tongue wetted his full lips, or the pull of hunger. “Sorry, you were trying to summon me?”

If he was, then this really was some plot by Lord Daskimos or one of Xak’s trickster friends.

“Properly. I did minor in demonology. I know to summon demons by name.” The human held up an aged sheet of paper, tapping it with one finger. “See?”

Xak took a half-step forward, all he could manage within the circle.

Even that was enough to flood his senses.

He’d read all about the power that existed in desire, but he’d never had access to it before.

As it turned out, Lord Daskimos was right.

The theory was a dry shadow when compared to having a very fetching feast standing in front of you.

A feast who, Xak could now see, had much higher ambitions for his evening than a virgin incubus-to-be.

“That’s not my name,” he said, swallowing unexpected hurt. All that want wasn’t actually for him. “There, at the end, that’s a fricative trill not an alveolar trill. So, ? not rr . He’s legendary, though. Very … fierce.”

Xak stepped back, waiting for the human to dismiss him. He could do it himself, but the man had summoned him. The least he could do was send Xak back to Hell instead of making him do it the hard way.

Whatever he expected, it wasn’t the mingled frustration and disappointment in the man’s emotions as he carefully set the paper he’d shown Xak on a nearby table.

“This really isn’t my night.”

It wasn’t Xak’s either. For a second, he’d almost hoped… But it didn’t matter.

“I could help you with the pronunciation,” he offered. “You could still call him.”

The man shook his head and dragged his fingers through his thick, dark hair.

“No, that’s– Look, I’ve already had one guy try to get ‘fierce’ with me tonight.

I really don’t need some legendary incubus pulling the same thing.

” The man studied Xak again, lips turning up in a sad smile.

“Besides, you’re the most attractive person I’ve seen in the whole thirty years of my life, and not terrifying even with the filing.

I would’ve used the alveolar trill on purpose if I’d known the difference.

Just so you know. I’ll, uhm. I’ll send you back now. Sorry for bothering you.”

Xak blinked at the barrage of words, hurt drowned out first by confusion and then concern. The man was so honest. And Xak didn’t like the taste of his unhappiness, threading through the lust.

The lust though … that was delicious.

For the first time in his life, Xak wished he were a true incubus, not out of guilt or frustration with his own failings, but because then he might be who the human was looking for. He might be able to touch him and chase away that unhappiness, make the power in him taste all the sweeter.