Chapter 2
The closer I drew toward Terrek’s office, the more moronic I felt. Dear gods, what was I doing? Trudging down his dark hallway on a self-slaughtering mission that wasn’t going to change anything about anything. Well, besides maybe the current state of my health.
But sometimes it became too much. Sometimes, the suffering was so loud and racketing inside my skull that it was its own brand of pain.
I scraped my fingernails over the black wall paint that had once featured families of quills but had faded so much that only their ghostly outlines remained.
It was quiet in Terrek’s wing of the brothel, barring the bumps and moans coming from the feeding rooms upstairs. He liked his privacy. He was also a cheap prick who didn’t feed as often as he should because of the cost, and I’d never seen him in anything but a foul mood because of it.
I steeled myself with a breath as I approached his door.
“Go away,” he said, before I even had a chance to knock.
They had preternatural hearing. Even he, at seventy-four, probably heard me coming a full minute ago.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I need to talk to you.”
“And how the fuck am I supposed to know who you are if you don’t name yourself?”
“Feloré.”
His chair scooted across the floor like he was standing in haste, almost like it was an involuntary reaction, but he said nothing.
“Open the door.”
“No. You’re a cunt and a tease, and whatever you’re up to, I promise, I am not in the mood.”
He was never in the mood to address any of the atrocities around the brothel. “I’m not here to tease you. What I have to say is important. Call it a business opportunity.”
“Go away.”
I clenched my teeth, bouncing as I said, “Are you hungry?”
Silence. That meant yes.
“If you promise to listen, I’ll let you kiss anywhere but my mouth.”
Much like their distant ancestors, the ancient incubi, the modern vultae fed on sexual proclivities. Some sexual acts gave them more energy than others, but they could find a way to feed from just about anything.
Which was why his footsteps slowly approached. “For how long?”
Well, someone had gotten smarter. “Twenty seconds.”
“Fuck you. A full minute.”
“Thirty.”
“A full minute.”
I glared at the woodgrain of the door. It didn’t matter to me. It wasn’t like I got as tired as the other concubines seemed to get from their feedings. I just hated him. “A full minute. But you have to promise to hear me out.”
The lock on the door unlatched. Then he pried the door open with a slight creak, just enough to show one of his eyes.
It was red.
Or it was beginning to redden around the rim, like a glowing log in a fire, which meant one of two things. He was already aroused, or he was very, very angry. Perhaps, both?
“Good gods, human,” he whispered, gaze dipping down my body as he bared his teeth. “Fuck, you are delicious.”
I leaned back, just out of his reach, when he stretched a hand toward me as if he were possessed to do it, his nails stark and white against his deep brown skin.
“Not until you hear me out.”
He snarled, curling his hand into a fist as he finally opened the door.
Out of all the whores here, I had an unusually firm grip on him for reasons I didn’t quite understand. Something about the way I tasted or smelled. It’d been that way since the moment I showed up.
I’d been assigned this brothel at my orphanage, and I’d never forget the first day I met him. There I stood, clutching the hand of my younger brother who wasn’t my younger brother at the time. Or at least we hadn’t told that lie yet.
“This is my brother,” I’d said at the time with a confidence I didn’t feel. “If you want me, he stays. No, he will not be working. Not now. Not ever. But I will work hard for you.”
It was a long shot for him to agree, as concubines were not allowed to live with other humans under the law, but he did agree because he wanted me. Just like he wanted me now.
I strode forward into his office. The red of his eyes glowed a little brighter as he watched me walk.
If it weren’t for those small differences—the eyes; the unnatural inky black of their hair—they’d almost look like humans. Almost.
There was an obvious difference once you really observed them. Just like us, their features and skin tones varied, but they had an uncanny sexiness, a bestial allure, that nearly hurt to be around, like our senses weren’t meant to handle it.
And they didn’t age, necessarily. At least not with crow’s feet or asymmetry.
Rather, it was a gradual whitening of their hair and nails that happened so slowly, like everything else about them.
At seventy-two, he had the face of a forty-year-old (albeit mean-looking), but every hair on his body, down to his lashes, was silver.
They were slow to mature, slow to procreate, and unfortunately, slow to die. The only thing they did quickly was anger.
An uneasiness settled into my stomach as I blinked around my surroundings. Then it deepened when he slammed the door shut.
The chaos that was his study had gotten worse since his wife died.
It wasn’t uncommon for a female vultus to take four or five husbands.
It was because they birthed such a disproportionate rate—nine males to every one female, making procreation challenging.
Being one of her many husbands, it wasn’t like she came around often to see him, but he kept the brothel clean for her.
Now, every surface in here was stacked high with papers or clutter and buried under a thick layer of dust. It also didn’t help that he rarely left anymore, feeding only on the young concubines who thought they’d get somewhere by letting him have it for free. They wouldn’t.
“Speak if you’re going to speak,” he said, arms folding over his strong chest. “Otherwise, I want the kiss.”
I swiveled around. “Your new guy has potential. He’s handsome and naturally submissive. He could make you a lot of money someday with a little nurturing.”
He shrugged. Like, And?
“And I would be willing to work closely with him. Teach him how to pose for the vultae gaze. How to talk dirty. How to do that thing I do with my mouth, and I know you know which one I’m talking about.”
He twitched. Once in his shoulder and again in his arm. Then all over.
Oh, to wear one’s arousal so outwardly the way they did.
The thought of feeding on a human made them tremble.
He wouldn’t be able to hide it, even if he wanted to.
There was no denying how badly his body wanted mine, not when he was twitching like he was being struck by a hundred tiny lightning bolts.
“What is your point?” he asked. “Because you and I both know you’re not here to tell me of your plans to train one of my concubines how to pose.”
I took a breath. “He is so hungry that he is unable to work. He needs an advance.”
He blinked.
“Two silvers is all.”
He blurted out a dark chuckle that lasted a little too long. “Well, that’s easy. No.”
My nostrils flared.
“Fuck, no. And what a dumb whore you are coming here, asking for money like this is a damn charity.”
It was the callousness. He didn’t have to say that. He didn’t have to treat painful starvation like it was just another inconvenience. “He can’t work if he can’t eat, Terrek. You can spare two coins to keep him alive.”
“It is not my problem if he can’t cut it. If he wants to get paid, maybe he should stop looking so sad and learn how to suck a cock. I want my kiss now.”
I stepped backward when he started toward me, holding a hand out. “It’s not him who is the problem. It’s the quota.”
“Don’t fucking start with me.”
“But you know it’s true,” I nearly shouted. “We make crumbs for how much it costs to be with us. We should get paid per feeding, and you know it—”
A blow across my cheek nearly knocked the wind from me as my head jerked to one side.
He probably didn’t even realize how hard he’d hit me. They were strong. So strong. He could fling me across this room if he wanted, breaking my body with a single snap, and he wouldn’t even break a sweat.
“You watch your tone with me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “That is the last time I will tolerate such insolence.”
My cheek was throbbing, but if he hadn’t slapped me, I might not have noticed it. A worn leather satchel sat upon his desk. The one where he saved coins for deposit. It looked…full.
I held my cheek as I twisted back to him, swallowing my rage as I’d always done. “You’re right. It was wrong of me to come here.”
“But a deal is a deal, and I want the kiss.”
I dropped my hand, stretching my jaw as I slinked backward toward the desk. “I am a man of my word.”
He licked his lips as he watched me, like I was a cake on a platter.
“If you want the kiss,” I said, hoisting myself up onto the desk, parting my legs for him, “then come get it.”
He twitched hard. So hard it looked painful as he rushed between my legs like a hungry buffoon.
“Yes,” I whispered, wrapping my legs around his waist, cradling his head against my chest as he smothered it in these hurried, open mouth kisses. “Yes, Terrek. Drink, baby.”
He wasted no time. Within seconds, he was feeding, and with a sudden rush of warmth spilled down my body, blanketing me in desire.
Sex demons were more than mind-blowing—you didn’t even have a mind when you were with them—and more than pleasurable. They fucking were pleasure. Being with them was ethereal. Transcendent. Indescribable. Like the planets themselves aligned inside your body.
I’d once heard it explained as ‘a satisfaction we were never meant to feel,’ and no truer of a statement existed.
“Fuck, you taste so fucking good,” he was whispering against my chest as I leaned back, letting my legs fall completely open, which was a bait he took instantly, kissing his way down my torso.
“I said anywhere.” I pulled my hardening cock out of the way, rubbing my balls for his viewing pleasure. “What about here?”
“Gods, yes.”
He licked my balls, titillated them with his tongue as I inched my hand toward the satchel. It lay on its side with a single button in the middle, the opening just wide enough to wiggle my fingers inside.
The coins clinked as I crept my fingers around two of them, but I moaned loudly just in time. He took it as encouragement, sucking my balls inside his wet mouth.
“That feels so good,” I whimpered, pulling his head tighter as I scraped another coin into my palm. “So, so good,” I said, clutching them into a fist.
I only came here for two. But because of his attitude, I would be taking three.
“I can make you come, human,” he asked, licking the length of my hard cock. “You want to come?”
“Mhmm,” I said, slipping my fist from the satchel.
“Gods, you taste like a dream. Fuck yes, baby. Come in my mouth—”
“That is all.” I sat up, shoving him off with all my strength.
A growl rolled from him as he staggered backward.
“Time’s up,” I said, hopping from the desk.
He wiped his mouth, having the audacity to blink at me with eyes as wide as they were red. He was out of breath as he said, “You cannot be serious.”
“We agreed on one minute.” I slipped my hands into the pockets of my robe as I ambled toward the door. “The minute is up.”
“You are a fucking tease,” he said, jamming a finger toward my back. “You always have been.”
Oh, no. Was I?
“Not to mention evil. Just a wicked, wicked human.”
Wicked? Evil? I snorted to myself as I slung open his door, letting it shut behind me in a theatrical slam as I strolled down the hallway.
That sure was rich coming from a sex demon.