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Roz moaned and I turned on the glamour. Even though he was an incubus, he was geared for sex so my glamour played off his and I suddenly found myself in thrall to him, so hot my pussy was burning up. I wanted Nerissa. I wanted Roman. I wanted both of them. At once.
Roz’s blood tasted sweet and rich and thick in my mouth and it flowed down my throat, making me ache for more. I coaxed it out with my tongue, drop by drop, the crimson nectar pulsing with his life, with his energy. And then, I could feel it—his sensuality rushing over me. I moaned, biting deeper, sucking harder, wrapping my legs around him as I pinned him to the tree. He gasped, his hands cradling my ass, and began to whisper things, dirty things, hot, sexy, wanton things, into my ear.
“Take it in baby, take it in. I want to fuck you, to lay you down and drive my cock deep into your cunt, you delicious, redheaded wench. I want to fuck you till you scream, till you come…” His voice was ragged.
I ground harder against his crotch, reaching down with one hand to unzip him. I wasn’t going to fuck him here, not right now, but I grabbed hold of his cock and fisted my hand around it, holding it tighter than he’d probably ever felt in his life. Even than when we’d fucked the one time before.
He began to pant as I drank deep, spiraling into the energy, catching the pre-cum on my hand to lubricate his penis.
But then, something—I don’t know what it was—perhaps a voice of reason, or maybe just my conscience, whispered, “Stop…you can’t drink him down…he’s your friend.”
I realized Roz was becoming too pale, even in the moonlight splashing between the clouds, so I pulled my fangs out, but the energy was riding us and he kept hold of me, pulling behind the tree so the others couldn’t see us. My mind was warning me—there might still be ghosts lingering, but they didn’t seem to be bothering us if they were, and I was pretty sure that the death magic Camille and Morio had been running had wiped them out, Shade taking out the rest. Rationalizing my desire any way I could, I let Roz take me down to the ground, on a bed of wet and molding leaves.
He slid off his duster, revealing a mesh tank top over rippling abs and gorgeously toned pecs and biceps. The man was gorgeous, like a long-haired Hugh Jackman, and he knew it and used it.
The next moment, my jeans were down around my knees and he was plunging into me, his cock filling me up as he groaned with delight. I rolled him over, riding him like a bucking bronco, pulling up my sweater to cup my breasts as he watched, his eyes growing wider. I leaned forward, rubbing my clit against his cock, feeling so full of his blood that I might burst, and the warmth of it made me feel alive again, like I might have some shred of my mortal self left.
As we rose and fell in the dark night, I looked up and there, I saw my sweet Nerissa coming toward us, her eyes glowing with lust. She licked her lips and I held out my arms to her, beckoning her in. She dropped her robe and, naked, stepped toward us, a dangerous and wild gleam in her eye. I wondered if she was about to shift into her werepuma form when she let out a low laugh and the ground seemed to shake beneath us, everything rippling like rings on a pond.
As she knelt beside me, cocking her head to the side, her shoulder-length blond hair coiled out toward me. And that was when it began to filter through my lust-crazed brain that something was deathly wrong. I did not make a habit of fucking my friends in the woods when we were in danger. Nor did I drink from my friends—I’d broken one of my sacred oaths to myself.
I looked up into my lover’s golden eyes, only to see them darken and sink into pits, deep sockets of emptiness. And within that void, I could see shadows flying, shades moving, as her hunger reached out to encompass both Roz and me.
Roz began to scream and I leaped off him. I yanked up my jeans and aimed for the creature’s head. This wasn’t my betrothed. This wasn’t her at all. And the moment I hit her, I could see only a gray, alien figure with a rounded mouth filled with a row of sharp teeth, and dark eyes with no pupils.
Rolling away, Roz staggered to his feet, looking weak. I’d drunk too deeply and he was having a hard time recovering quickly.
“Help! Camille!” I might be small but my lungs could rattle the house. Even as I shouted for help, I landed a kick in the creature’s stomach. My foot slammed into it, knocking it back against a cedar.
If it had actually been my lover, I would have killed it with that kick, but the creature shook off the blow and grinned, a dark, filthy, tainted smile. I whirled again and slammed the other foot into its face, fully expecting my stiletto heel to pierce the nose. But it was like kicking solid stone. My heel didn’t survive, though I wasn’t hurt.
“Fuck! What the fuck are you?” Furious now, Roz’s blood pumping through me, giving me strength, I launched myself at it, knocking it to the ground.
The thing let out a garbled laugh but said nothing, merely reaching up to wrap its bony hands around my throat. It couldn’t choke me to death, but it could break my neck and put me out of commission for a while. As I struggled to free myself from the iron grip, Smoky appeared, along with Camille. They took one look at the situation and Smoky rushed over to help me out while Camille supported the struggling Roz, guiding him out of the area as he leaned on her shoulder.
Smoky motioned for me to move and I tried to roll away, but the creature held tight and I couldn’t free myself. Smoky flexed his fingers as his talons sprang forth. With one quick swipe, he sliced through one of the creature’s arms. As it let out a garbled roar and let go of me, I took the opportunity to get my ass out of the way.
Letting out a rumble, Smoky punched her in the gut, all talons front and center. As he ripped through the flesh, the creature struggled to get away but then, with one slow motion, toppled forward. Smoky jumped out of the way as it landed on the forest floor, still twitching.
“Not dead yet?” Morio asked, coming into the picture. He glanced at me, and then his gaze flickered back to the body on the ground. “Doppelganger. Summoned by a powerful necromancer.”
I managed to catch his gaze and hold it. “Or the Lord of Ghosts?”
He nodded. “Yes, Gulakah.”
I watched the figure writhe on the ground. “Can we talk to it?”
“Nope…it has no will of its own. Or mind, really. It follows instructions, and it’s hungry. It feeds off energy and flesh. And they have a natural charm that creates hallucinations in their intended targets.” He turned away. Over his shoulder, he added, “The Corpse Talker has arrived. I suggest you dispatch this thing now.”
Smoky gave it one more blow, and then he let out a long sigh. “You all right?”
I checked the heel of my boot, which was truly broken now. “No, not really. But I guess I’ll have to be. I just hope I didn’t fuck up Roz too bad.”
“The incubus will live. Come, we’d best go interrogate the dead before they refuse to give up their secrets.” And with that, he motioned for me to go first, and we slipped back through the trees to the clearing where the dead elfin guards were lying.
Shade was there, with the Corpse Talker. A faint blue glow emanated from within the folds of the cloak, and those luminous steely eyes peered out of the hood. I swallowed my revulsion—they really were squirrelly, but they had their place and were very useful.
Camille stood to one side, Roz sitting on the ground beside her, looking dazed. Moon Witches and Corpse Talkers weren’t the best of friends. In fact, something about their energies produced a volatile mix and the result could be a nasty implosion, explosion, or some kind of ’plosion. And Delilah didn’t like Corpse Talkers. So I’d be the one in charge of this little venture.
