I keep him where he is, not willing to let him move around too much and injure himself further. But something in my chest warms at his immediate concern for me.
“It didn’t touch me,” I assure him. “And you’re bleeding; that’s why everything is red.”
“Bleeding?” he asks, wide eyes staring up at me as he lifts a hand and runs it gently over the gash on his face, wincing.
“Julie,” Jeremy breathes.
Julian tilts his head back, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Dad? Oh, shit—Master Abraham… Oscar… Young Master Atticus.”
I can see the panic as it unfolds. He’s been caught in the west tower, and to make things worse, he’s naked.
I reach into one of the half-open drawers behind us and pull out various articles of clothing, using them to cover his lap. Julian gives me a thankful smile.
Right as I’m about to explain what has happened or ask for some kind of first aid for Julian, the temperature of the air rises.
The hairs on my arms stand on end, and everyone in the room—aside from Jeremy—freezes.
Julian tenses in my arms, his hands lifting to grip my shoulders.
It is as if the atmosphere of the room has shifted, something ominous and insidious taking up shop right alongside us. I feel suffocated.
“We should go—” But Atticus stops speaking, his eyes growing wide as he stares ahead.
Slowly, I turn my attention to the right, to where the incubus stands before my mirror.
“What thefuck?” Jeremy whispers.
“Oh, god,” I murmur. Julian squeezes me tighter, but I can feel him shaking.
The incubus is horrifying to look at; absolutely disgusting. Its black eyes are watching us silently, though I can’t make out exactly who it’s observing.
And then, after everyone has stayed frozen and completely silent for long enough, it lifts one long arm, pointing a crooked finger with its sharp nail right at me.
Then, distorted and hoarse, it says,“Meus est.”
Louder than it was earlier in the night, it shrieks, and my father and Jeremy cover their ears and hunch over at the sound. Julian flinches in my hold. But Atticus stumbles forward, falling to his knees directly in front of me.
Protecting me.
I can see the rise and fall of his back, the way he’s trembling, but he does not move.
Fortunately, he’s not required to be any braver than that. As the shriek dies out, the incubus steps back into the darkness, disappearing completely.
Julian’s blood is everywhere, soaking into the robe I’m wearing and covering my hands. As I look into his eyes, I find them dim and slightly disoriented.
“He needs medical attention,” I say, urgent and scared.
Atticus turns around, peering down at Julian with concern.
“He’ll need stitches,” my brother confirms. “I can administer them. Let me take him.”
“No!” I shout, holding Julian closer to my chest. “I won’t let you take him.”
Atticus’s eyes are wide, shocked.
My father interrupts, saying, “You can’t carry his weight, darling. Let your brother—”
“I’ll carry him; he’s my son,” Jeremy interjects. “And after he’s taken care of, you will tell me what the fuck just happened.”
