Incubus Read online

  Incubus

  Celia Aaron

  Celia Aaron

  Copyright © 2017 Celia Aaron

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book only. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Celia Aaron.

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  WARNING: This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language.

  DIRE WARNING: If you pirate this book, your soul will rot in hell.

  Cover art by PhatPuppy Art

  Cover Fonts by Font Diva

  Content Editing by J. Brooks

  Copy Editing by Spell Bound

  Contents

  Free Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Sinclair

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Also by Celia Aaron

  About the Author

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  of my bestselling novel, Kicked

  To JLS—“Don’t put all your marbles in one boat.”

  To My Precious Tybalt – Your paw prints will be forever on my heart.

  1

  Lilah

  I hammered back another shot and regarded the crowd of Red-Handed. Darkly kohled lids hid the depths of my eyes as I searched the crowd. Slamming the empty glass on the bar, I let the jarring sensation rush through my wrist. That wasn’t the only thing I felt—someone was watching my every move. I turned to find a witch standing just to my left, frozen in mid-order.

  The patron eyed the silver runes that slithered up the side of my neck. The ancient design was a warning that foretold retribution to anyone who crossed me. Unfortunately, the pang in my breast reminded me the mark was now only for show. But the blonde with the curious gaze didn’t know that. I glanced at the witch and gave her a look that would have made even a fire demon retreat. Blondie took the hint, curiosity turning to fear as she hastily backed away, knocking over her glass and almost landing on her ass. Her hooker heels sought and just barely found purchase on the slick dance floor.

  Once the momentary amusement was gone, I crooked a finger at the surly bartender for another shot before beginning my vigil again. I put my back to the bar, felt the fresh drink bump into my elbow, and let my senses reach out into the room. Hunting, as I had been trained to do so many years ago. Two fey by the door, one on the balcony above, a wolf—in human form—maneuvering through the crowd. No doubt he was looking for a quick lay. That last part wasn’t fair. Not all wolves were like Farrow. Besides, he was more like a snake, not a wolf. I pushed that thought out of my mind and continued doing an inventory. Vamp in the corner enjoying a brunette snack. Goblins, glamored to look like gorgeous girls, scantily clad and dancing for all they were worth. But no Roth de Lis.

  Fuck. This was my third visit to Red-Handed in as many days, but my target still hadn’t shown. Not that I was about to stop looking for him. Time wasn’t on my side, and I needed Roth like Narcissus needed a mirror.

  I had it on good authority this was one of his regular haunts. For the immortal life of me, I couldn’t see why. The clientele was a mix of lower Underworld beings and mortals who smelled of cheap liquor and sex. From what I’d gleaned about Roth from my sources, he wasn’t the sort to mingle with peasant Underworlders and definitely not with humans. Expiration dates were a big turnoff to most immortals, especially ones who’d been around as long as Roth.

  But my intel was good, so I would keep looking. I adjusted my black leather skirt that was the size of a postage stamp. My crimson bustier barely kept my nipples in check, and my black hair flowed down my back in a silky waterfall. I was exposed to a degree that would have horrified me in the old days, but it was a necessary evil. I was a lure, hoping to hook my prey.

  Whisking my hair off my bare shoulders, I made sure to arch my back the slightest bit as I leaned against the bar. More flies with honey, I reminded myself.

  The hunt was a precarious one, filled with distraction and pitfalls. The frenetic beat of the music did nothing for my instincts, dulling them and putting me into a sensory stupor. Too much movement on the dance floor, where half-naked partyers crushed into a mass in a haze of drugs, alcohol, and lust kept me from focusing on any one target. Beings flitted into my field of vision, then melded back into the writhing bodies, all kissing, licking, biting, and grinding against one another in an uncoordinated orgy of sensation. And clothing seemed to be optional.

  The one thing that helped was the dark. Even in the shadowy club, with every surface painted black and strobe lights flashing the heaving masses, I could still see just fine. The problem was, I wasn’t seeing what I wanted and hadn’t been for quite some time. Tick tock.

  After another hour of shots and no luck with my errand, I deftly hopped down from the bar stool, slid some euros to the bartender, and headed for the door. The delicious promise of being free in the night air sped my steps. I skirted the edge of the crowd, loathing the thought of getting entangled with the mob, and instead sought the stillness of the Paris night.

  I didn’t get far.

  “Hey, sexy. Let’s dance.” The wolf I’d scanned earlier had beelined for me the minute I rose from the bar. Now he grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the dance floor. Prick.

  “No.” My voice was lost in the pounding music as I tried to rip my wrist from his grip. He continued pulling, and my efforts were no match for a wolf. I no longer had the strength of one of Artemis’s warrior maidens, and wolves were notoriously powerful even when in their human form. “Let me go.” I tried again, but to no avail. He easily manhandled my petite frame when, not that long ago, I’d be stomping him into the floor. Shame, thy name is Lilah.

  “Just one dance. I saw you over there at the bar. You
look like you need a good seeing to. I’m just the wolf to give it to you.” His fangs flashed. He wore a tight black muscle shirt with dark jeans and walked with an arrogance that left a foul taste in my mouth. He knew he looked good. That only made me want to hurt him more. I toyed with the idea of knifing him in the side and slipping into the crowd, but I couldn’t risk it. I would need to come back here if I wanted a chance of spotting my quarry. So I left my blade in its sheath … for the time being.

  He pulled me to the back of the dance floor and cornered me with his palms against the wall on either side of my head. His irises flashed a vivid yellow as he leered at my curves before licking his lips.

  “I’m on my way out.”

  Shaking his head, he leaned closer. “Not until I say so.”

  “Fuck off, you overgrown lapdog.”

  “Feisty.” He grinned and tried to kiss me.

  I turned my head away. I might not gut him in front of all these witnesses, but I wasn’t going to be his little bitch, either.

  “Why are you being a tease?” The brute grabbed my chin and roughly pulled my head back around. “Just give me a little taste.”

  I twisted away once more and tried to push past him. He slammed me up against the wall, pressing his body into mine to hold me in place. My palm warmed, anticipating the hilt of my blade.

  “Get off me before I neuter you.”

  He smirked and ran a hand over the flesh at the top of my corset.

  “Don’t touch the goods!” I slapped him hard across the jaw.

  He barely flinched. The moon must have been near full, his power at peak levels. Before I could strike him again, he caught my hand and pinned it to the wall. A stinging pain erupted as his palm tightened like a vise around my wrist. He squeezed harder, no doubt enjoying the damage he was inflicting. I tilted my chin and looked into his animal eyes, refusing to be intimidated. Even when the small bones of my wrist scraped against each other, I wouldn’t cry out. Wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, I did what would wound an asshole like him the most. I laughed at him, the ridicule pouring out of me. “That all you got, poor wittle puppy?”

  “I’m getting tired of your smart mouth.” His fangs lengthened, and the enjoyment faded from his face, replaced with ire. His hand came like a rocket, smashing into the side of my face and making my ears ring. What. The. Hell? The son of a bitch had just pimp slapped me. I would make him pay for that. With interest.

  I refocused my gaze on his, blue meeting yellow in the flashing strobe lights. He was smiling, clearly feeling like he was back in control.

  “You hit like a nymph.” I ignored the trickle of blood at the corner of my mouth.

  “What did you say, you little bitch?” He released my bruised wrist and ran his hand under my skirt before he kissed me hard, trying to hurt me with his teeth.

  Anger rose like bile in my throat. Trapped. I wished for the old power. It would not come. There was a hum in my veins, but it was only an echo of the strength I once wielded.

  No matter. Staying calm was the key to getting out of this mutt’s paws. I would use what weapons I had available. The wolf was grinding into me, hurting me with his vicious kiss. Going against every instinct I had, I forced myself to relax, letting the tension roll from me and swaying to the pounding beat. I slowly softened, and returned the wolf’s kiss, letting him sink his slippery tongue deep into my mouth. Gross. Now emboldened, he reached for my breasts again, groping me through the bustier. I faked a moan.

  When I reached down to stroke his cock through his jeans, he squeezed my breast.

  As he finally pulled away panting, I club-whispered, “Do you like that?”

  “Y-yes.” He closed his eyes as I stroked him faster, rubbing the heel of my hand against his erection. His head lolled back with pleasure.

  “Yeah?” I purred. “Well, how about this?” I grabbed hold of his length and twisted for all I was worth.

  The wolf let out an inhuman shriek and sank to his knees, cradling his crotch while the people around us began backing up. Oh, now they notice.

  The crowd stared as the wolf fell to his side, still clutching his crotch. The curious blonde was there, pointing at me and whispering to her friends. Shit. Can’t come here again. Which pissed me off even more.

  I sidestepped the howling wolf, who was now rolling back and forth, and made my way to the door. I snagged my faux fur stole from the coat check and pushed through the throng and out into the cool Paris night.

  Finally, I could take a breath. I tried to shake off the feeling of being trapped by the wolf. It didn’t work since I still felt like pummeling something. Anything. Preferably a wolf. The pain in my wrist was fresh, though it would heal in no time. Immortality perk? Check.

  Glancing over my shoulder at the club to make sure the mutt was still nursing his ouchy, I roped my hair up into a no-nonsense ponytail. When no one came out after me, I was satisfied he was down for the count.

  I turned away from the noisy club scene and let my senses rush back to me. The buildings came into sharp focus, and I cataloged the familiar smells of the Montmartre district. The moon played across my exposed skin, increasing the low hum that had infused me from the moment I was frozen into my immortality and called to serve the gods. But the feeling only reminded me of what was lost. Shaking off the gloomy thoughts that threatened to override my mission, I started for the Seine, hoping the walk would clear my head.

  A sigh rose from my lungs, and I let it out. Just this once, I’d let myself wallow in self-pity. Because I’d failed again. Because I couldn’t beat the wolf without trickery. Because the whole situation sucked hairy satyr balls.

  I needed to refocus and think of another way to get to my target—the target I’d never seen and no one would talk about. Curses.

  Roth de Lis was a powerful Underworlder, seemingly invisible. All my leads were dead ends. Still, I couldn’t give up. Too much was riding on me finding him. I kept walking, picking my way through the cobblestone streets. Despite the late hour, Paris was still awake. Drunks stumbled down sidewalks, and lovers committed passionate acts in open doorways.

  The moon shone high and bright, giving me a slight energy boost. Artemis hadn’t taken everything away from me—just the one thing that really mattered.

  Pulling my stole tightly around my shoulders, I hurried through the rolling hills of Montmartre, feeling like a ghost of my old self. Because I was.

  The clatter of my thigh-high boots on the street sounded like gunshots in my ears, nothing like the soft leaves or moss beneath my bare feet in the forest, where I belonged. Soon I’ll be back there. I may have been weary and troubled, but I held onto the sweet hope of returning home.

  The buildings around me began to turn grander as I left the populated streets of Montmartre, with its hookers and drug dealers at intervals, and moved into the more ostentatious rues.

  The city grew quieter just as my thoughts did, and it was only moments before I was lost in memories of home. Though I didn’t have one anymore.

  No longer could I run wild with my sisters hunting deer with our bows or teasing the satyrs with promises of love if they would only play us a tune. Stealing the satyrs’ wine as they became transfixed at their own skill with the lute was only half the fun. Besting the other maidens at archery and daggers, racing through the flowery copses, long talks with Elena. All those things I hadn’t experienced for so, so long. How I wished I could be there again. To take back the mistake that brought my whole world crashing down into ruins around me.

  My thoughts darkened. Those times were gone. Artemis, my moon mother, had forsaken me. No more would I feel the freedom of the night or the unbreakable strength the moonlight gave me. Unless…

  Like a recurring nightmare, I kept coming back to the look in Artemis’s eyes when she cast me out. It was full of rage, yet buried deep within was a sadness. The kind a mother must feel when she sends her child into the world, knowing it is a harsh place. And it was what I had deserved. What I
still deserved. But I was going to get back into Artemis’s good graces. And Roth was the way.

  Deep in my plans upon plans to regain my warrior maiden status, my ears didn’t pick up on the footsteps until they were right behind me.

  2

  Roth

  I silently watched from my perch on the rooftops of Paris as the creature who’d been stalking me for months strolled through the streets. I’d been following her ever since I found out from my web of informants she was on my trail. I wanted to discover why she sought me, though I could guess the reason. She was just another in a long line of tourists seeking the kind of release only I could give. She certainly wasn’t the first. And I sighed to think that she wouldn’t be the last.

  My reputation had been cemented from my earliest days as an incubus, which meant there would always be someone looking for me, wanting the pleasure I gave so easily. My love of the flesh and my ability to please had drawn more women than I could count over the long years. So many names and faces I could no longer remember.