Page 10 of Strength of Desire

“So it’s like… soup?” I said, picturing the minestrone we served at Carla’s Diner. “We’re all little bits of carrot and onion floating around in some kind of universal dream-broth?”

Romero laughed again. “Yes, actually. I hadn’t considered it from that angle, but that’s an apt metaphor.”

“But what does that have to do with being a witch?”

“Ah, yes. We’ve wandered rather far from the point.” He shook his head apologetically. “Under most circumstances, humans can only touch the dreamworld when they’re asleep—and even then, only sometimes. Similarly, an incubus usually cannotleavethe dreamworld. But many years ago, a few incubi seem to have discovered a way to be bodily present in the waking world, here on Earth.”

“How?”

“We’re not quite sure. Incubi are rather secretive, and witches have not met many—at least, not many who have admitted their true nature. However they managed it, they discovered that if they mated with a human on Earth, they were able to create children—half-human, half incubus.”

“And that’s what I am,” I said.

“Unless you remember existing in the dream world before this, and finding a way to manifest on Earth as a fully-fledged eighteen-year-old.”

Sadly, I had way too many memories of an unhappy childhood with my dad to believe I’d done anything other than grow up with him here on mundane planet Earth.

“One of your parents was an incubus,” Romero continued. “Could the other have been a witch? As I said—possible, but implausible. As far as we can tell, an incubus embodied in this world tends to avoid witches. Has either one of your parents ever mentioned—”

“No.” I cut him off before he could finish. “Neither of them ever—no.”

My mom had left my dad as soon as she could after having me. I didn’t like to think about that much. About how little I’d meant to her. About whether she’d taken one look at me and been just as disgusted as my dad had been.

But my dad—the only thing less likely than him being an incubus was him being a witch. My dad wouldn’t even come to our high school production ofOnce Upon a Mattress, because he ‘didn’t like that fairy crap.’ I couldn’t exactly see him casting spells like the students here did.

No, it had to be my mom who was the incubus, and my dad was just a regular human, stuck with a child who disappointed him more and more with each passing year.

I knew I should let it go. There was no point in holding out hope for something that would never happen. But it was hard. I couldn’t quite get over the thrill of seeing magic—real magic—that first day in Spellwork. And I couldn’t stop myself from wishing it were somethingIcould do.

“But the moragh,” I said after a moment. “Did Noah—I mean, did Professor Braverman tell you about what happened in Combat?”

Romero nodded. “He did. I can only imagine how stressful that must have been for you.”

“Why would it have come after me, though? If I’m not a witch?”

“I’m not sure,” Romero said. “It’s possible it has something to do with you being an incubus. As I said—”

“We’re rare, and everything you know is from books,” I filled in for him, frustrated.

He chuckled. “I must sound like a broken record.”

It wasn’t him I was frustrated with, not really. It was myself. Or the world. Or both.

It just seemed so unfair, to discover that magic was real, only to find out I’d never be able to do it myself. I didn’t know how Ash and Felix stood it. Going through the same classes as everyone else, but only ever learning the theory. Sitting to one side and watching as the witchesdidmagic, while the paranormals just observed.

No one else had clocked me as paranormal yet. They just thought I couldn’t do spells because I was new. But how long would that last?

If I could do magic—in just one area—hell, just one spell—it would have made being an incubus so much better. It would have been something I could control, instead of be controlled by. But that wasn’t going to happen, no matter how much I wished it would.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I should be grateful. If everyone thinks I’m a witch because that thing attacked me, I guess they’re less likely to figure out that I’m an incubus.”

“That’s one way of looking at it.” Romero gave me a sympathetic smile. “Do you feel up to another lesson tonight?”

“Do I have any choice?” That tugging in my core was so strong I was practically vibrating by now. I swore I could hear a hum throbbing inside myself. Or maybe that was just another part of me throbbing.

Stupid, unreasonable dick, getting aroused at the least convenient times.

“You always have a choice, Cory.”

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