Page 83 of The Howl
With my containerof lava cake in my hands, I entered the kitchen from the garage. Scents of grilled meat and vegetables filled the air. Mrs. Quill looked up from her place at the stove.
“Did you have a nice visit with Ashlyn?” she asked.
I stared at her for a second, wishing our lives were still at the point when I actually thought she cared.
“The visit was fine until Adira called, trying to play her games again. I can’t wait to be free of this place.” I put my cake in the fridge and started for the door.
“I’m sorry you’re hurting, Eliana,” Mrs. Quill said.
I waved and kept walking. Her sorrow didn’t help anything. Her support would have, but heaven forbid she do anything against Adira’s wishes.
From above, I could hear the thumping beat of muffled music. Resigned, I made my way to my bedroom and ignored the growing scent of lust. How many people did Mom have in Oanen’s room? I was no longer sure a professional cleaning would be enough. He’d need to gut the space by the time he and Megan returned.
Another thought hit me hard. When he and Megan returned to Uttira, he likely wouldn’t be coming back here. He’d probably go live with Megan.
I wanted to groan. Was I going to be stuck with my mom forever?
Continuing past his room, I noticed the door to the entertainment space was open and looked in. Piepen flitted in the air, watching the TV raptly. His jerky movements, and the tiny glowing firework that exploded just in front of him, had me rolling my eyes. I would need to burn that couch when Piepen was gone.
I glanced at the TV then quickly hurried to my room. I should have known how Mom would keep an adolescent brownie entertained while she was busy. Thankfully, Piepen’s skunk scent was almost completely masked by what was seeping from Oanen’s room.
In the peace of my own space, I sighed and went to my closet to change for a dinner I didn’t want to attend. Adira would expect it, though, even if she wasn’t there. Based on her call, Mrs. Quill was giving her sister full reports of how much time I was spending in my mom’s presence.
As if summoned by my thoughts, my mom knocked on my door and entered without waiting for a response.
“Hey, baby. I thought I heard you come home.”
“Not sure how you can hear anything with your music so loud.”
Mom smiled.
“The music sets the mood for the humans. You know that.” She tilted her head, watching me consider the dresses. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Mrs. Quill is almost done with dinner. They expect me to change into something fittingly succubus.”
“I see. There’s no need for that anymore, though. I think it would be better if we stopped with the pretext of eating human food unless we’re using the experience as it’s meant to be used.”
I frowned at her, confused.
“It’s a form of foreplay, baby. Putting the fork in your mouth, licking it, swallowing what it provides. It’s a phallic representation to your male companion.”
“And you’ve just ruined eating for the rest of my life.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. Human food is a tool, not nourishment. If you’re hungry, I have a buffet in my room. Why don’t you come and sample a little? You might find something you like.”
“Thanks, but I’m not really in the mood for an orgy.”
She sighed and stood.
“Fine, but I’ll leave my door open just in case you change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
She’d no sooner left than Piepen came buzzing in, his iridescent wings fluttering behind him.
“You’re home!” he cried, zooming at me.
“Stop.”
