Page 3 of The Last Slayer
“That’d be me.”
“The best hunter.”
“Still me.”
She sized me up and finally stepped aside. “Come in.” She shut the door after me. “You look so young.”
It never failed to amuse me that people assumed I must be older. I flashed her a quick professional smile. “If you want, I can leave and send someone who’s older but not as good.”
She shot me a sharp look. Once I’d taken care of her demon, maybe we could start our own mutual admiration society.
Her townhouse was full of wardings, the cheap variety like the one on her door. Why did she even bother spending money on that stuff? No consistent motif, no geometric precision… Just a bunch of pretty but pointless swirly silver medallions that wouldn’t have scared a fairy. She could’ve gotten the real deal from the firm. But then we were expensive. Really expensive.
You get what you pay for.
I held on to my bag of gear and scanned the living room. It was sparsely furnished—surprisingly so given that it was a woman’s place—with an ivory loveseat and a small oak coffee table the only furniture. I walked across the scuffed and scratched wooden floor. Selena did have excellent taste in electronics. A flat-screen TV hung from the white wall, complete with a surround-sound audio system. Maybe she’d let a gadget-crazed brother decorate.
She noticed my look and said, “The stuff is my ex-boyfriend’s. He hasn’t come back for it yet.”
Interesting. Why would a guy leave his prized possessions behind? Unlike everything else in the house, they were spotless.
The kitchen was the same—a bare minimum of appliances. She hadn’t cooked in ages from the looks of things. The barrenness of the place left a sour tang of unease in my mouth. Something as intimate as a home reflects the owner’s personality, and incubi rarely go after sterile people. There’s nothing like a bit of eccentricity and spunk to heighten the pleasures the creatures of nightmare derive from their victims.
She gestured around with a bony hand. “I’m thinking about moving.”
I nodded and sniffed the air. It smelled stale and saccharine sweet and tasted of power. Someone had spilled Sex and left it for days.
Another strange note. Sex is the most easily obtained magic booster on the market, enabling its users to perform spells beyond their natural ability. The Magical Enhancement Agency within the Federation of Mageship keeps the method of extracting and bottling Sex secret, but every practitioner knows it comes from copulation, and that time tends to lessen its potency. You can tell how stale it is by the way it smells—all sweet and cloying. Sex as old as the stuff in Selena’s home wasn’t good for anything except ruining your palate.
Whoever stole Selena’s Sex hadn’t stored it or used it. That made me suspect the attacks were personal. Or maybe the incubus didn’t need a magical boost. It was just having fun.
“How long have you been under the influence of the creature?” I said.
She crossed her arms. “I already told your company.”
“I know you did, but I want to hear it from you.” I kept my voice low and soothing. “It’s important.”
I didn’t blame her for her defensiveness. After all, she had been getting raped in her dreams. Whether or not she enjoyed it didn’t matter. Giving away her vital energy hadn’t been part of the bargain as far as she was concerned.
A long sigh escaped her, and her eyes slid sideways to look out her kitchen window. “It’s been about five weeks, I think. I bought wardings to keep him out, but he was too strong. He would come to me… I knew what he was, but I just couldn’t stop it,” she whispered. “The pleasure… It was unbelievable.”
“I see.”
Classic. Intense sexual high to make the victim unable to resist the dream invasion. Even when the woman wants to find recourse, it’s difficult to hire someone and admit she’s found pleasure in the unnatural coupling. Just like a rape victim who’s reluctant to cooperate with the police because she feels ashamed. And, of course, if the creature disappears, there won’t be any more highs.
Hell of a dilemma for some.
“Does it visit you in every dream?”
“Yes.” She paused. “Is that important?”
“More interesting than important.”
“Why?”
“Most creatures don’t suck their victims dry like this. Maybe you pissed someone off.” She could’ve been exaggerating, but it didn’t sound like it. “Badly enough to destroy your astral self.”
“My soul, you mean.”
