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Two Months Ago, Brooklyn, New York City
Shades of pink, orange, and indigo rippled through the sky as the sun descended behind the treeline. A brilliant sunset always cleared my mind of all the useless rubbish someone like myself accumulated over the centuries. I sat on my regular bench in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park, breathing deeply to reset myself. My crew and I had recently completed a job that was best described as messy. Gruesome.Definitely gory. I threw an entire outfit away afterward because I didn’t want to make Olga wash all the blood and body matter out of it. I would never put our maid through the terrible ordeal of scrubbing brain bits out of dry clean only wool fiber again.
I didn’t need to reset because of guilt. Guilt never factored into the equation because I’ve outlived my conscience. Very few immortals had anything more than a jaded sense ofennui. Seeing thousands of years worth of death, corruption, and vileness desensitized you–made you realize that humans weren't much better than the ‘evil’ they thought existed amongst them.They only saw a small slice of the world around them, not because they couldn’t see more, but because they chose not to see. Preserving their narrow scope of life was more comfortable than knowing the truth. They proved time and time again they couldn’t handle or understand what they deemed as theunknown. No, I came here to reset and clear my mind because I had some decisions to make.
I assisted Desmond in scoping out our crew’s jobs. Out of the four of us, I was the most discreet, given my proclivities. I did reconnaissance and gathered information. Our friendship aside, he knew the value I provided our operation. Our reputation preceded us; we were the people you contacted when you wanted something done. We shifted the tide, made things happen whether they were meant to or not. As long as you could line our wallets or provide us with something of value, we could strike a deal. We held a dangerous level of power in our world, rivaled by only a few.
But unfortunately, our world was in upheaval. A new player had recently risen to power and was making life very difficult for us. We wanted to stay out of the spotlight and pull strings from the shadows. We wanted complete autonomy, not to be under someone’s thumb or follow their rules. If we didn’t take action soon, we would be trapped doing someone else’s bidding for eternity. A few decades ago we weredoing him a favor. Now we weresummonedto do his bidding like indentured servants. We reported to him, doing his dirty work throughout the city. The thought of being summoned, yet again, made me grind my teeth. I was no one's servant to be bossed around and controlled.
The air around me shifted as chills ran up my spine.What is that?My train of thought splintered when an energy assaulted me like a brick to the face. Powerful magic, not just any run of the mill variety either. It was unique. Alluring. Discreet, but not hidden. I hadn’t felt something this magnetic in hundreds of years. My magic unfurled, extending in tendrils around me to locate the source and landing on a beautiful young woman walking past me. I could only see her back, but what I did see was appealing. She wore tight, black workout leggings that were practically painted on and a pink cotton crop top that flaunted generous curves. The desire to see more of this woman burned through me. What did her face look like? If the front looked as delectable as the back, I was liable to have her on her knees right here in front of Lucifer and the entire first circle of Hell. It was getting dark… prime time for someone to follow such a pretty woman.That someone might as well be me.
I trailed behind at a respectable distance, trying to get a better feel for this mystery woman. She appeared to be in her early twenties, but she carried herself with a confidence most women her age didn’t possess.She must have unshakable confidence if she has the balls to walk alone at dusk.Her body resembled a perfect hourglass that could put Botticelli’sVenusto shame: tapered waist, wide hips, and a round arse that bounced in her stretchy leggings. Throughout the centuries, the best clothing improvement for women had to be stretchy material.
She stuck to the paths, walking at a leisurely pace. The longer I followed her through the park, the more her magic called to me. I couldn’t explain why. Something powerful rippled beneath the surface of her light rosey skin as if it was trying to break free from its confinement. Incubi such as myself recharged their magic from lust, either in real life or dreams. The more powerful the being we liaised with or collected the lust from, the greater the charge. Dreams yielded stronger results because you could take right from your prey’s subconsciousness, where they tended to be less inhibited by social norms. Usually we hunted by reading lustful desires, trolling debaucherous places like bars and clubs where the hunt was easy. But I wasn’t your typical neighborhood incubus. I wanted the challenge, craved the chase.And this enticing little birdie just happened to fly by me? What a gift.It had been a while since I had a real challenge. Her power signature would be more satisfying than any measure of lust from some common slag in a club. I knew I had to figure her out and hunt her down.
She exited the park and traveled a few blocks to the subway station. The ease she walked with made it clear that she was a New Yorker, born and raised. She was so absorbed in her phone that she didn’t even notice me tailing her. I followed her right onto the train, sitting across from her and down a few seats so I could take a solid look at her. She was stunning. Wisps of dark brown hair framed her heart-shaped face. Shapely brows topped big, gunmetal-blue eyes. Her full lips were covered in a shiny gloss that made them look mouthwatering.I want to bite them.A beauty mark sat right on her jawline. I spent the whole ride drinking in her beauty, trying to pinpoint what about her power was so tempting. I contemplated how delicious she’d taste when I ate her wet pussy. How wonderful would her little moans and gasps for air sound as I plowed into her while my hand squeezed her throat? What would her skin feel like beneath me? How would it feel to completely own this beautiful, exquisite creature while I recharged from her power?
By the end of the ride, I still couldn’t figure her out. Her magic was remarkable, but I couldn’t place it. It wasn’t demonic; I would recognize magic like my own. Nor was it completely of the witch variety either. It had a familiar zest that I couldn’t place. NYC was home to all kinds of supernatural beings, so she could be something else. The only thing I figured out on this ride was that I needed to taste her andsoon.
When she got off the train, I trailed behind her until she got to a stately brownstone on a quiet street. I committed the address to memory. In a few hours when she went to sleep, I’d come back and visit her dreams. Then I’d know exactly who this mysterious woman was and why I craved her.
* * *
I walked into her bedroom, taking in the space around me as well as I could in the darkness: a queen sized bed, open walk-in closet, a dresser, and a bookshelf filled to the brim with books. She had stacks of books on top of the crammed rows on each shelf.We both love to read.I’d eventually have to look through them and see what she liked. A ginger and white cat sat on her bed by her feet, glaring at me. It hissed, and I shooed it away before it woke her up.I fucking hate cats.Sitting on her bed, I watched as she slept spread out in the center, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She looked so beautiful in repose. The house’s security measures were a joke. I easily broke through the magical seals and wards that were supposed to protect it against intruders. A sudden flash of anger flared through my chest.If I can trespass this easily, so can others.She was so pure and luscious. I wanted to protect her, to keep her all to myself. I didn’t want anyone else to look upon her while she slept. They didn’t deserve to hear her soft snores or see her rosy pink nipples pebble through her thin pajama top. This city could be dangerous for normal people, let alone magical beings.She would be safest confined to my room, like a bird in a cage, so she could never leave.Why did I feel this way? This woman was nothing more than a pretty face, a quick feed. I’d be in and out tonight and stick to my usual routine of moving on to the next.
Her skin felt smooth under my fingertips, just as I expected it would be. The smoothest was the creamy skin right before the apex of her thighs. I moved my fingers up an inch or two more, slipping them under the edge of her knickers. Her lips were bare, soft to the touch. She moaned, parting her legs slightly.Maybe she’s as attracted to me as I am to her.The next time I touched them, I wanted them to glisten with her arousal. As I ran my hand up and down her leg, her magic teemed beneath her skin. My excitement to dive into her subconscious was making me giddy.Hopefully her magic will be unrestrained there. I was just as eager to find out what she was as I was to feed from her.
I breathed deeply as I held her hand in mine, concentrating on creating a connection between us. Establishing a subconscious connection was similar to picking a lock. It was a puzzle that had to be done with precision and finesse to avoid waking up the target. Every mind was different, so there was no formula to it. I pushed my magic through her mind, willing it to breach her defenses. It was shielded with intricate protections, but I expected no less from someone with her power signature. I met some resistance as I cautiously spun the dial keeping me away from her deepest thoughts and desires. Each turn brought me closer to tripping her tumbler. I couldn’t wait to crack her wide open. She was more challenging than most, but eventually I was able to get in.
Her mind had a light and airy feeling that came with youth. There was darkness there, creeping around the edges, which meant she was well acquainted with trauma and fear.Those could be fun to play with.No, I wouldn’t have time for that. I visited her with the intention of getting what I wanted and shaking this seedling obsession before it grew into a full-fledged garden. There will be no second visit.
I wove a dreamscape for us, dropping us in the same park I found her in. The meet-cute was simple. I stopped in front of the bench she sat on, picking up her wristlet that had conveniently fallen on the ground. A rosy blush traveled over her neck and chest. Her lust coiled inside of her, with little tendrils escaping when she took a deep breath.She thinks I’m attractive, good. All the easier to feast on her that way.
“Miss, you dropped your wallet.” I handed it to her, purposefully skimming the inside of her wrist. The shiver that ran down her arm made my dick swell. “You need to be more careful in the future.”
“Thank you, I guess I can’t always depend on the kindness of strangers. Would you like to sit down?” Her eyes skimmed me over, and I could almost read the lustful thoughts milling about her mind.
That was the beginning of the end. We spent the entire dream getting to know one another, talking about music, books, food, places she wanted to travel, and her hopes and dreams. Her name was Diana, and she was a twenty-two-year-old student who was working her way through university bartending, although her ultimate goal was to practice law. She was surprisingly cultured and knowledgeable for someone so young. Each detail of her life was sunlight and water that grew the seed of my obsession into a beautiful, twisted flower.
After getting to know her, I knew it would be impossible to just have her once. It was the first time in hundreds of years that I had ever visited someone without fucking them. My dick was hard as a rock, but no matter how badly I wanted her, I couldn't bring myself to send this dream down that path. I wanted to visit her every night, learn everything about her. No matter how much I knew, I had a feeling it would never be enough.
I asked her about her magic, hoping she would talk about it.
“Handsome and hilarious. You’re batting a thousand. Magic doesn’t actually exist,” she said through her raucous laughter.
How curious.She had a magical signature, albeit a muted one. Her subconscious was locked down and she lived in a house with wards and seals… but she didn’t believe in magic? The genuine expression on her face left no hint of deceit. People usually didn’t lie in their subconscious.
She obviously thought I was joking with her, so I made my question seem like a lead-up to a lame pickup line. “You’re not magical? Then how did you cast a spell on me?”
It wasn’t as if I lied to her. She did somehow manage to captivate me, as if she had cast some magical claim on me. Was she tricking me, or was she truly unaware of the power she possessed? I couldn’t solve the riddle.Who is she?She had such raw, brute power, but it felt restricted. And she seemed totally ignorant about it. Or was she playing the fool to lull me into a false sense of security?
* * *
Present Day, New York City
I had visited her every night that first week, and each dream was better than the last. I recently took to following her in the real world, too. I tracked her to school, work, and when she went out with friends, so I could watch over my little Birdie. Thank Lucifer I was watching her, because her recklessness and obliviousness to her surroundings put her at serious risk. She couldn’t be bothered to look both ways before crossing the street and sat out in the open on park benches, where everyone could see her. Anyone who could pick up her power signature would see her as a target.
Tonight she was bar hopping with her friends, includingCharlie. Just thinking his name made my lip curl. It took every iota of self control I had to not rip him away from her and stab his fucking eyes out. The way he complimented her on her outfit and made a huge show of it would put my knickers in a twist if I were wearing any.‘Oh hey Diana! You look fire in that dress, honey. You’re looking for trouble tonight!’He made her giggle the whole night with stupid jokes. He touched her arms and twirled her around on the dancefloor.She’s mine, she should be inmyarms, bent over while I’m railing her. Not dancing with him.
