Page 17 of Incubus with Benefits
I could do my part without it, sure. But I knew damn well things would go smoother if I leaned into what I had. And considering I might be next on the missing witches list, I needed every advantage I could get.
But I’d cross that river when I came to it, because right now I had to prep. I needed several strong protection charms and spells to keep me safe.
On top of that, I wanted to source a few micro cameras to put up around my place, just in case. And I wanted them up ASAP. If someone decided to swing by while I wasn’t home, I wanted to know who and when.
And yeah, I was already kicking myself for not having them set up sooner. I was the techie of the group, after all. I’d helped Penny connect her magical wards at her new place with a physical alarm system. And I’d put up the cameras at Gigi’s shop too, but somehow, I’d left out my own security. Probably because I’d always thought of myself as a nobody witch, and aside from collections of shoes, there wasn’t really much of value in my home. I’d never once thought that I myself would end up as the target.
Either way, your bitch here might not have a job, but she got work to do!
Chapter 8
Julian
Iwasmid-setinmy home gym, muscles burning in that satisfying way that reminded me I was still alive after so many centuries, when the scream hit.
Sharp. Female. Panicked. My weights hit the mat with a thud as I bolted toward the sound. My apartment wasn’t huge, but the layout meant I had to cross the living room to reach the dining area. The moment I turned the corner, I saw flames dancing across the edge of my antique table.
Lily stood frozen, her hands glowing faintly, eyes wide with horror.
I reacted before I could think, reaching for the fire to smother it with my soulstuff. Fire had never been a problem for me, even though I wasn’t a fire demon. Heat and flame might sting, but they never damaged me like they did real skin and bones.
“No! Don’t touch it!” Lily exclaimed, eyes wide. “It’s magical.”
But it was already too late. I jerked back, hissing as the part of me that I’d used to smother the flames sizzled, giving off the unforgettable smell of brimstone.
“Fuck!” I roared. Magical fire. But of course it was magical fire.
I blinked over to the kitchen, grabbed the fire extinguisher from under the counter, and blasted the flames until they hissed like a pissed-off cat. When the fire finally died, there was foam and smoke everywhere.
“Glad I kept this around,” I muttered, setting the extinguisher down.
I turned to her once the last hiss of foam settled, smoke hanging in the air between us. Lily stood there, stiff, her hands trembling just enough to make my chest tighten.
“You okay?” I asked, voice low.
She nodded, but I saw her hesitation and the way her aura dulled. She wasnotokay. I stepped closer, reaching out instinctively. My fingers brushed her arm, then her shoulder,checking for burns or other injuries. Her skin was warm and her aura flickered like a candle, brightening everywhere I touched.
She tried to wiggle away.
“Hold still,” I murmured, letting my hands move gently over her forearms, her wrists, the curve of her neck. Magical fire was unpredictable.
She watched me with those sharp but tired eyes, like she wasn’t sure whether to thank me or yell at me for fussing over her.
“You’re not hurt,” I said finally. “But you’re drained.”
She waved me off, eyes wide with guilt. “Forget about me. I ruined your table! I’m so sorry. This thing looks expensive and old. Like, museum-old.”
I glanced down at the scorched wood. The fire hadn’t done much damage, just peeled away part of the varnish and left a circular burn mark where her singed bracelet had been sitting. I brushed my fingers over the edge.
“It’s from a speakeasy during Prohibition,” I said, voice low and calm. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it restored. It’s not the first time it’s seen fire. Every mark is just another story etched into the grain.”
The sprinkler system chose that exact moment to kick in, dousing us both in a freezing spray.
Lily shrieked, arms flailing, and I immediately formed a dome of soulstuff over her head. The water bounced off, but not beforethe first spray soaked her hair; the pink strands hung limp around her face, making her look even more tired.
“Your whole apartment!” she gasped.
“Just the dining room,” I muttered, already sending a tendril of my soulstuff down through the floor. Then I made just the tip of it solid, and twisted the main valve shut. The water stopped with a groan and a final splatter.
