19. The incubus wanted to play poker. #2
I wanted him bad. It took every tattered bit of my willpower to keep from whimpering or moaning. I burned, and the stench of heating metal filled my nose. I tried to step back, but the door remained lodged in its frame and stuck to my horn. Jerking my head back shifted my improvised shield.
“Come to me. I’ll enjoy you first, then I’ll enjoy you both together. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”
Not good. Not good at all—or really good, if I wanted a wild fling with a walking, talking sex machine.
I only needed one man: Quinn. Quinn, Quinn, Quinn. Married-to-me, heaven and hell rolled together in one delicious package Quinn. I snorted, and flame blossomed over the door.
“Why do you deny yourself? You know you want me.” The sound of the incubus’s voice drew closer.
I did. I wanted him so much it hurt. I also wanted to bash his face in with the door lodged on my horn. I gathered my muscles, gave in to the need to get closer to him, and lunged forward, claws unsheathed so I could shove the door across the warehouse’s concrete floor.
I hit the incubus at full speed, and the impact knocked me off my hooves and dislodged the door from my horn. I fell in a tangle of arms, legs, and incubus wings; his tail slithered over my fur and ignited lust deep within.
A squeal burst out of me. Oh God, I needed more. Not fair. Not fair at all.
My body demanded I stay while the rest of me flailed in incoherent panic. If I didn’t get out of the building, I’d end up rubbing all over the wrong man. Incubus. Whatever.
I stabbed him with my horn, mauled him with my claws, and turned his moans into screams. His hold on me weakened enough I could get to my hooves and bolt for the door. I kicked my hind hooves and flashed my claws at him in warning of what I’d do if he tried to impede my escape.
Running like a bat out of hell, I hit the asphalt outside so fast my claws sparked and embers flew from my fur. I surged across the empty parking lot towards the road.
Quinn, Quinn, Quinn.
I chanted his name to keep from turning around and begging the incubus to forgive me for clawing him and kicking him and stabbing him before pleading for him to take me on the warehouse floor to make up for my violence.
If I’d been paying a little more attention to where I was running rather than fantasizing about throwing myself on the nearest male, preferably Quinn, I wouldn’t have collided with a transport.
I bounced off its grill, got tossed like I weighed nothing, and smacked to the sidewalk on my side.
I rolled, tucking my hooves close to my body so I wouldn’t break a leg.
Gouts of flame flared from my coat. The concrete sizzled and melted beneath me.
Lesson learned: getting sideswiped by a transport cured incubus-inspired lust. It also hurt like hell. The transport’s brakes squealed.
Great. Now the truck driver would end up having the night of their life.
I staggered to my hooves. Maybe they’d leave before the incubus recovered.
I doubted it. Shaking out my coat, I limped away from the warehouse and the road.
I’d already avoided one sexy incubus bullet, and I wanted to get the hell out of Dodge while I still could.
“Sor-ree, truck dri-ver. Have fun. Please. Much fun, long time.”
No court would convict me, right? Well, at least not for running away from the sex-crazed incubus. Fleeing the site of an accident would get me into trouble. So would pouring an entire vial of the best pixie dust in the world on an incubus.
The truck driver would get a hit of the pixie dust the instant the incubus went on the hunt for a partner and discovered them near the warehouse. They wouldn’t be responsible, nor would they have to spend a fortune on the high. They would also have one hell of a story to tell later.
Maybe Mary had been right all along. Looking on the bright side helped.
The incubus’s influence returned after I staggered away from the transport, and it took two long, dark blocks of abandoned warehouses for it to fade away. I spent at least an hour shivering in an alley before the heat of my lust ebbed enough I was willing to face anyone of any species.
Most women and men would consider me crazy, especially since unexpected dalliances with an incubus or succubus didn’t count as cheating. Maybe Sylvester’s magical ball and chain had helped me get away. I’d probably never know.
All that mattered was I had gotten away without rubbing all over the incubus.
I even felt a little guilt over hitting him with a door, slicing into him with my claws, and stabbing him with my horn.
It wasn’t his fault I happened to have pixie dust tucked in my cleavage.
It wasn’t his fault Audrey hadn’t been smart enough to search me for potential weapons.
The temperature dropped. My shivers strengthened to full-body shaking.
I shifted my weight from hoof to hoof in an effort to warm myself.
The cold air bit my nose, and the musky stench of live gorgons tainted the wind.
Audrey’s mention of sisters worried me. If they had a full hive of three to seven females, their smell would permeate the air within a mile of their lair.
An abandoned warehouse district was a sensible site for their home.
The neighbors wouldn’t complain, and they’d have all the space they needed for raising their whelps without accidentally petrifying someone.
I doubted they had a male, needing to rely on an incubus—and me—for their breeding purposes. I shuddered.
One determined female could spawn enough whelps to establish a full clan—if she had a male of the right species. What would tossing an incubus into the mix do? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. No, I knew I didn’t want to know.
I wanted to go home.
If I was lucky, Audrey would find a willing surrogate. Then she and her sisters could keep their pet incubus busy for months to come. I wondered how she had managed to avoid petrifying him. Was she simply that weak, or was there something else to it?
Quinn’s cousin had left chaos in his wake in the bar, and from what I gathered, he hadn’t been involved with the incubus in the first place but was merely another victim of lust.
Screw it. I’d worry about it later. I needed to find somewhere warm and cozy to take a nap.
After a nap, I’d deal with my gorgon problem.
Warm places to sleep made everything better.
I trudged out of the alley, my legs quivering beneath me.
Sirens wailed in the distance and drew closer. I pricked my ears forward.