Page 13 of Incubus with Benefits
But as much as I wanted to pretend being a responsible adult was optional, reality had other plans. It was officially time to dig up my dusty old résumé, slap some lipstick on it, and bring it back from the dead.
But how was I supposed to focus on anything so mundane when my house had just been broken into? Add in the fact that witches were vanishing like socks in a dryer, and I had a sneaking suspicion I was next on the magical hit list. The missing women weren’t just a pinned forum chat anymore; they were a warning. Yesterday’s drama of losing my job felt like a minor inconvenience now.
Should I post something on the forum about what happened last night and the break-in? But what if they weren’t related? And Julian didn’t need any more suspicious eyes on Delerium. I still couldn’t believe the cops thought he kidnapped me or whatever. And who the hell had reported me missing?
And then there was the irresistible incubus himself and whatever the hell was budding between us. I still had no idea what to make of it. Julian had introduced himself as my friend to Mr. Kim. And then I’d one upped him while I was packing, adding the wordbenefitsto the title.
That was all he could be, but I could handle that. In fact, keeping it casual was probably for the best. I wasn’t one of his groupies. Julian was a self-proclaimed manwhore, and he said it with pride. He wasn’t someone I’d want a romantic relationship with anyway. But friends with benefits? I could do that.
Everyone knew he was an incubus with zero interest in settling down. And why the hell would he when he had a bevy of incubus-obsessed groupies practically throwing their thongs, and themselves, at his feet for one night of toe-curling, scream-his-name fun?
A demon like him didn’t know what commitment was. But they did have friends.
And right now, he was being a damned good one. I’d much rather be here, in his warded home, than be at my place with no front door and no wards.
The only thing I was worried about now was Shadow. But I tried to remind myself that Shadow was still technically a stray and she’d managed to survive before I found her, even though she was so young. Or did she find me? Either way, she’d be fine.
After making sure I was comfy, Julian left to get some chores done. Imagine that! A responsible incubus.
My laptop called to me, mocking me with its closed lid, as it sat untouched on the dining table. I thought about getting up, but the couch convinced me otherwise. Did I mention it was super comfortable?
Suddenly, everything snapped into focus like being slapped with a double shot of espresso. Or maybe, just maybe, it was my subconscious throwing me a bone so I could avoid resurrecting my sad little résumé from the graveyard. Either way, the message was loud and clear: I needed to stop playing the damsel in distress.
Because let’s be real: I wasn’t some helpless waif waiting for a knight in shining armor to save me. I had magic. I had brains. And I had a mean right hook when provoked. It was time to stop reacting and start investigating. Witches were going missing. And if I didn’t figure out who or what was behind it, I was going to be next. No doubt about it.
Worse? Julian was going to get blamed. Sweet, snarky, dangerously charming Julian. If I disappeared, they’d pin it on him faster than you could say “witch hunt,” and I wasn’t about to let that happen.
So yeah, screw the résumé. I had bigger fish to fry.
Time to stop being the bait and start being the hunter.
Chapter 6
Julian
“So,whoareyouhiding up in that love shack of yours?” Gina drawled, her voice dripping with mischief as she sprawled across her velvet couch like we were here to talk pleasure rather than work.
The succubus’s apartment was a mess of color and chaos. A little bit of bohemian chic with a dash of hoarder tendency, the place was full of souvenirs from all her past conquests. The walls were cluttered with framed artwork, old photographs, anda few questionable artifacts that probably shouldn’t have been displayed so openly.
A ceiling fan spun lazily overhead, stirring the heavy warmth of the room. The scent of sandalwood and jasmine permeated the air, her signature scent for decades. It clung to everything, including the questionable taxidermy perched on the bookshelf.
She had a long, shapely leg draped over the armrest, and a glass of something amber and potent in her hand even though it was barely noon.
That was Gina. Hard to believe she’d been around as long as I had. Which was a very long time. Centuries. I honestly couldn’t remember my early days, and I had no idea when I was… born? Created? Summoned during a blood moon with a goat sacrifice? Who knew.
Demons like me didn’t come with birth certificates. Just lucky souls without bodies who’d figured out how to give substance and solidity to our soulstuff so we could exist in and interact with the mortal plane. Incubi and succubi were just a subset who needed to consume sexual energy to stay corporeal.
A little went a long way, and most of the time I indulged because it was fun. Much like the way demons eat food, it was entertaining and pleasurable, and that was essential when one existed for a long time.
Pleasure was the whole point. Without a body, you couldn’t taste, touch, or tease. And being stuck as a ghostly voyeur for eternity? No fucking thank you. That kind of existence woulddrive me utterly mad. At that point, someone might as well toss me into a soul shredder and call it a day.
Luckily, Gina and I didn’t have to worry about that. Not as long as our current venture, Delerium, stayed open. And our little den of sin was thriving. Technically, Gina wasn’t on the lease, or even listed as a partial owner—she claimed to be allergic to responsibility—but she’d been here since day one. She did her part by luring… err, that is, enticing… new customers through the door. She also helped organize special events and was technically on the payroll as the marketing manager.
“You’ve already met her,” I said, knowing that if I hid Lily’s identity, it would only make Gina more curious. A curious Gina was the type to try to steal Lily from under my nose, just so she could have a taste herself.
Gina didn’t discriminate. Gender was a suggestion, not a rule. She liked variety. And if someone wasn’t into women? No problem. Gina had a male alter ego named George who could charm the pants off a nun.
But Lily was mine. For now. And that meant making her seem as boring as a tax audit to my longtime friend and fake former wife.
