The Second Floor Ch 02

It was amazing and terrifying. I had summoned an incubus with no effort, but I wasn't sure what to do with him now that he was here. His eyes were unnerving, especially his snake-like pupils. He looked like a horror movie brought to life, a nervous one.

His eyes flicked constantly from one thing to another and there were times when his eyes would go dead and his head would jerk around animalistically, like he could see things I couldn't. The thought scared me, but he didn't seem worried and that, for some odd reason, comforted me. If I had to choose a way to describe him, it would be metallic. He was smooth and beautifully sharp at the same time. His body could be described as imperfectly gorgeous, muscles rippling beneath his skin with every shift, tightening his skin and then pulling it to an almost unrealistic sharpness.

He had a cautious edge to his movements that made him seem almost fake, but his warm scent and darting eyes brought him back to the real world and seemed to staple him back in place in the room. He was constantly smiling and shying away from me, like he had a secret, and it made me curious about him. We watched each other shuffle through the kitchen, he seemed oddly comfortable with the space already.

I finished up the cooking, though he hadn't done a bad job to start with, feeling a bit protective of my kitchen. I scraped out a couple of plates of food and offered him one, he accepted the plate with a rueful smile and picked quietly at it. He looked odd, the way he held his plate from the bottom with one hand, balancing it on careful fingertips, and nudged the food around on the plate occasionally taking a bite of it and chewing for too long, like it was too bitter to swallow a mouthful.

I was the one that broke the silence again.

"So... How's it taste?"

His shoulders tensed and he swallowed, keeping his eyes down. He hesitated too long and I realized he didn't want to answer.

"It's okay, if you don't want it. You don't have to eat it to be polite."

The muscles of his jaw pulled the skin of his throat taut and his eyes flicked around anxiously.

"Hey.." I pressed slightly, then hesitated when he looked up again.

He blinked, it should have been completely insignificant, but I flinched. He flinched at almost the same time and then looked away.

"What's wrong?" I asked a bit nervous.

He let out a breath and a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a snarl. I stepped back and watched him, more than a little uneasy.

"I-I.." His face was getting adorably red and he kept glancing back to me, some part of me at least. "I can't taste it..."

My train of thought slammed into his mountain of a response and I stared at him for a moment.

"You.. can't taste it..?"

He cleared his throat and set the plate behind him, drawing my attention to the end of his tail, curling and twitching like a cat's.

"It's more that to me it doesn't have flavor," He explained, something reluctant in the tone of his voice and the tilt of his shoulders. "How people have different preferences in food. I just don't like any of it.. It all tastes like ash and dirt."

It occurred to me instantly and the question popped out of my mouth before he had the chance to continue what he was saying.

"How do you know what anything tastes like if there's no flavor?"

He became incredibly pensive suddenly and looked up at me, his eyes holding a sadness that his smile couldn't wipe away.

"It's.. complicated. So," He took a long enough breath for me to interrupt him again.

"What's complicated about it?"

He looked away again, refusing to answer, so I changed the subject.

"What do you do? You know, like for money. Do you need money? You still have to eat right? Where do you live?"

His shoulders gave a helpless twitch, that I could only assume was his attempt at a shrug.

"I work... Odd jobs mostly. Fixing random things, teaching people things like playing instruments or cooking, sometimes teaching them other languages.. I do what I can, and what I have to." His voice steadily got softer and quieter, I could see him trying to imagine a way to steer the conversation.

"Still, where do you live?" I pressed curiously.

"On earth."

"You really don't have a place to stay?"

"I always have a place to stay, it just isn't usually in the same place every night. What about you? What do you do?" His voice was frigid and his eyes were locked on the floor in front of him, he didn't give a shit what I did he just wanted me to stop prying into his life.

"I'm a waitress and I work part-time at the local library."

"Where do you wait?" His voice was suddenly different again, calmer, instantaneous sainthood. His eyes flicked over my body and then to my eyes before rolling away as he half closed them.

"A diner here in town."

"Which one?" He persisted, shooting me another look, that I could barely see through his tousled black hair and long eyelashes. Translated into an action it would've ripped my clothes off and got me pregnant, but he stayed where he was.

"Whitney's on twelfth."

He seemed to genuinely consider the location of my work, nodding slowly, and looked directly at me, his cheeks turning pink again.

"What made you want to read about demons?" His voice was curious, but his eyes were still tying my stomach in knots and I couldn't help but look him over again.

He was so perfectly sexy, flat stomach with the suggestion of a rippling set of abs underneath, his shoulders rounded and smoothly contouring into his biceps, the soft lines on his arms hinting that the slightest flex would reveal a muscle hard enough to break rock. His hair was a gorgeous mess with two shining spikes for horns curving out of the crown of his head. Only now did I notice how human he looked, but at the same time he looked too good to be real. Almost like an actor with amazing make-up and special effects.

"I didn't really seek out the book, I just kinda found it.." It wasn't a lie, it was on the second floor of the library sitting on a cushioned bench pushed underneath a window. It had no indication of being a library book, but there was no one around and when I asked Tammy at the front desk she said I was the only one who had been upstairs recently. I checked around with a few other staff members and they said it had been sitting there for a few days already and whoever owned the book probably didn't want it.

I watched his face shift to an unreadable expression and then his features fell into a smile that must have stopped the hearts of girls around the world, I admit mine faltered a bit as I tried to return his smile.

"At the library." He said calmly, and for an instant I had no idea why he'd said it. His eyes glittered and he started across the kitchen again. Say something. I couldn't force words out as his fingertips brushed against my jaw and he leaned towards me, he smelled good in a weird way. His skin was warm and his eyes began to look more natural as he closed them.

Then, our lips met and he lifted me effortlessly onto the counter. One of his hands found its way under my shirt and the other held the back of my head, protecting me from slamming my head against the cabinets. One of my hands was on his shoulder, tracing the lines of his flexing body. He seemed to know it too, his shoulder moved into my hand and dropped slightly as my other hand pressed against his chest. Just hard enough to feel how hard he could push back. His lips parted and I felt his tongue rasp against my lips, asking for permission, how cute.

He pressed closer and, before I knew how they got there, his hands were on my hips pulling me into him. Then, I felt something slither into the waist of my night pants and reached down to stop him, too late. His breath huffed into my ear as he twisted away from the kiss. His shoulders tensed, his body curling slightly as I felt something push past my underwear and into me. Everything suddenly became clearer and then blurrier, it was like I was seeing through more than just my own eyes, different patterns of blankets, wallpapers, and ceilings seemed to layer over each other as he pulled me closer and moaned softly against my skin. His fingers tangling, gripping, and tensely releasing my hair as I felt whatever it was move inside me.

I could hear other voices and noises, bed frames and background noise from cities, moans and groans, pulsing music that the motion of his body kept rhythm to, screams and the sensation of hands on my body all over.

It twisted and knotted itself and he forced it deeper. I let out a squeak and the curve of his mouth told me he was laughing, but I couldn't hear him. My hands where in his hair and clawing the back of his neck, electricity and warmth swelled up and burst.

As if someone flicked a switch, everything went back to the way it was supposed to be. Except he was leaning against me, leaned against the cabinets, kissing my bare shoulder, my shirt discarded in the middle of the kitchen floor along with my night pants. Then, he moved away and I saw his tail curl behind him, something on the end of it making it shiny. I suddenly felt heavy and my eyes wouldn't stay open.

His arms wrapped around me and I felt him close to me, all over. My heart pounded against my ribs and then I was surrounded by warmth. A blanket cocoon folding me up like a caterpillar, his presence lingered in the air, and the next morning I was a butterfly. Spreading my arms into cool air that smelled like breakfast, eggs, toast, peppermint and tea, a bite of strong coffee, pancakes, and something meaty.

He walked into my room, who he was I wasn't entirely certain. His soft blue eyes and dark hair looked strangely familiar, maybe it was the shape of them or the way his eyebrows came together when he met my eyes.

"Good morning, Cadence," His voice was painfully familiar, deep and comfortable, the way he said Cadence was adorable, mostly because he looked down and smiled as he said it, like it was his own little secret.

The timbre of his voice was so soft, but strong at the same time, like he was a giant trying not to break a piece of china.

"Good.. morning," My voice broke with a yawn as I sat up and studied the tray of food in his hands. Pancakes drowning in syrup and butter with a fork stuck under the edge of them, a reef of scrabbled eggs clinging to the rim of the plate to avoid being caught in the sticky ocean, a piece of toast using a life raft made of sausages to stay clear of it, and two coffee mugs with steam whipping off the top of them sitting on the tray he was carrying the plate on. A pair of lighthouses jutting out of the safety of the plastic tray, it was cute in a strange way.

As he set the tray on my nightstand I tore the toast in half and made a sail for the little raft and smiled at my private joke. He took my little sail and shoved a toothpick in it and then stuck it into a sausage. We looked up at the same time and he was smiling.

"Where'd you get a toothpick?" My voice was sharper than I'd intended, but he just smiled wider at me. It made my chest ache in a weird way and he gave me a soft kiss. My head spun and he touched my cheek, still smiling at me. When I found my voice again, it was hardly a whisper.

"I'm not letting it go. Where'd you get the toothpick? And who are you?"

"You shouldn't get so worked up," He said settling into the bed over top of me as if it was where he belonged, but his shoulders had a submissive slouch to them, his eyes closing as he leaned toward me. I lifted one of my legs towards his pelvis and his eyes darted shyly to my face. "My name is Da.."

It sounded familiar but my mind was grasping straws and I was more focused on his fingertips running the length of my neck. I brought my hand up, lacing my fingers in his to remove his hand from my skin, and pushed him away and he let me push him.

"Da.." It was a question that came out more like a confused statement.

"You summoned me last night and we had a lovely evening making dinner, which is in containers in your refrigerator. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did, it looked like you did."

Suddenly the night returned to my mind, I slapped him hard and jerked my legs out from under him.

"HOW DARE YOU!! I told you to keep your hands off me!"

He hardly seemed to notice the slap and his expression froze every bit of me except the thumping of my heart. That's when I noticed his eyes still had flecks of gold in them, rich yellow with little brown and orange spots accenting them. When he spoke it sent a wave of cold over my body and I couldn't resist a shiver.

"I didn't feed on you, it was tempting."

"Like that's something to be proud of," I spat back, shaking slightly, and he grabbed my arms hard, his face twisted into an unnatural snarl, his lips curling away from freakishly sharp teeth as he slammed a hand against my headboard and growled in my face.

"It is for someone like me." He growled back, almost unintelligible.

His body relaxed and he moved away from me, just enough for me to sit up and scoot back against the headboard. At first I thought he was still angry, but when I finally built up the courage to look up at him, it looked like he was trying not to cry. Shoulders hunched, his palms flat on his thighs, fingers splayed and white-knuckled, I would've dismissed it as an act if I hadn't seen the tears whell up in his eyes just before he got up and walked out. His tail hung low to the ground and close to his legs, I could feel the sadness pushing through the air like heavy rain clouds and wondered if I should follow him.

However, I started considering the situation. Why was I just okay with him being here? It should have felt wrong. I was still pissed that he'd molested me and seemed to feel like it was something I should just accept. The truth was, I wasn't okay with him being here, somehow my common sense had slipped away from me completely. This revelation made me curious, I got up and shuffled through my room for a moment trying to remember where the book was. I could've sworn I left it on my bed but it was gone.

I started digging through my bookshelf trying to think of where I'd have put it, lifted my eyes and caught a glimpse of my comforter piled in the corner farthest from the door. At first the colorful mess confused me and then pieces started slowly coming together, the book was on my bed, it could've come off with the comforter.

I picked up the mess of blanket and heard the heavy thump of the book hitting the floor, strangely satisfying. I tossed the blanket on my bed and retrieved the book which had fallen open and crinkled a handful of pages with its own weight, flattened the pages and carefully closed the book to straighten them a bit more. When I opened it again I let it fall open to a black and white sketch of an incubus, the art was crude and the lines sort of smudged together, but it was a full nude.

His arms stretched over his head in a pose that cried desperate seduction and the artist had captured a certain sharpness in his eyes, dangerously similar to the way Da had looked at me. It made me wonder who the artist of this picture was and if they'd summoned the incubus as I had Da. I stared at the picture a bit longer, noticing little things. His tail was thinner than Da's and there was a fleshy looking piece at the end of his tail, this incubus looked an awful lot like every other drawing of a demon I'd ever seen. If I didn't have Da wandering around my apartment, I'd have thought it was a nice depiction and nothing more.

Something suddenly caught my attention, in the picture he was smiling with his mouth open and his teeth were long and sharp, the way his had been only moments ago. The longer I looked at the picture the more questions I wanted to ask him. The long snake-like tongue hanging out of his open mouth with what looked like sharp spines sticking out of it, one of his hands splayed against the wall, showing off the long razor-sharp nails on his blackened fingers. His genitals sent a shudder through me, his penis was fully erect and almost as big as his forearm with long spikes sticking out of it from every angle.

I turned the page, flipping towards a page I'd glanced over previously, pinning the pages down when I found it, and read the passage. Upon being summoned an Incubus or Succubus will appear with in an hour, if you have summoned an Incubus or Succubus and it has not appeared after an hour wait three hours and try again. They will indulge any sexual fantasy you ask them to in exchange for feeding from your body during these activities.

It went on to talk about their process for feeding and I flipped past it a bit frustrated that it hadn't answered my question. Why did he do it after I told him not to? Weren't these creatures like sex slaves? My mind ripped away from what I was skimming for when I realized I could ask Da.

I got up, glancing at the plate of food by my bed, or more at the plastic tray it rested on. Who had plastic trays just laying around? Where'd he get it? Something else came to me, he was dressed this morning. Where'd he get clothes? Men's clothes that looked like they were made just for him. I picked up the plate and started eating, it was surprisingly good considering he couldn't have taste-tested anything. Once I'd had my fill of breakfast I started looking for him, uncertain of where he might be, considering he seemed invisible in my apartment. The floor boards didn't even squeak under his weight.

I rounded the corner at the end of the hall as it opened into the living room and saw him stretching out as he replaced the glass globe on the ceiling, it looked cleaner and the light bulb looked new. What the heck is he doing?

"Hey," I said quietly and he flinched, turning slightly and keeping his eyes down as he responded.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"What are you doing? Never mind, that's not what I wanted to ask you.." I stumbled through my words, suddenly forgetting everything but how incredibly sexy he was.

He took a few steps away from me and my brain made a reappearance.

"H-how did you do that?" I hadn't quite hidden as much of the anxiety in my tone as I'd wanted to, but he didn't hide his either.

"Do what?"

"I don't know, that thing where you mess with my head. I don't freaking know what you're doing.."

He smiled a bit and looked up at me.

"You mean this?" My thoughts started drifting back towards him, all his sexy perfection and the night before. I couldn't do anything but nod and stare at him, my mind returned and his smile was widening as he shied away from me.

"What did you do?" It didn't sound like my voice, it was quiet and shaky.

"I can sort of read minds.. but it's a two-way thing. You can read my thoughts while I read yours."

I seized the opportunity and interrupted him.

"Well, you're a conceited piece of shit."

We met each other's eyes, he looked terrified and I felt like a jerk.

"..I-ah... I what? What makes me conceited?"

"All you think about is yourself!"

His face curled into a confused snarl, one of his eyebrows jerking up, and his tone had enough poison in it to kill half of New York in an afternoon.

"That makes me selfish, not conceited."

"Well, whatever! You're a jerk." I snapped back.

He just looked back at me with a blank expression, but I noticed now how tired he looked. There were deep purple circles around his eyes and his lips had a twinge of blue settling in them. I also started noticing his bone structure jutting beneath his muscles trying to rip through his skin and felt a bit sorry for him.

His eyes met mine and then jerked away anxiously.

"I'm sorry," He said solemnly. "What can I do better?"

I paused, uncertain of how to take his shift in behavior.

"You can start by keeping your hands to yourself when I tell you to."

His eyes closed and he let out a soft groan before nodding slightly, satisfied by his response I continued.