Incubus Pupa Ch. 04

Looking around, I didn't see anyone else that she could have been addressing. I pointed at myself, "Who, me?"

She nodded deeply, "Yes. Sir. This way, please." She indicated I was to follow her.

Turning to the group, I relayed our windfall. They all seemed ecstatic except Ella, who briefly looked at me as though I had killed her puppy before turning away.

We followed the woman to a private alcove where the music was muted. Two bottles of Cristal on ice, a huge platter of ripe strawberries, and dark confections along with several chilled glasses awaited us on a large round table with booth seating surrounding. We were sliding in to enjoy ourselves when the woman drew me aside, saying, "Sir, my employer has requested a word with you. If you'd accompany me, I'll sure he'll have you back with your companions very soon."

What was this? I looked at the rest of the crew, but they didn't even seem to notice, favoring the expensive champagne provided gratis from our new benefactor. All except Ella, of course, who frowned, shaking her head. How did she always know what was going on with me?

But what could I do? We'd already accepted his hospitality. It wouldn't do to refuse him (or her?). As I wavered, obviously uncertain as to whether I should follow, she intuited my hesitation.

"I assure you, your host holds no malign intention in meeting you. In fact I suspect you will appreciate what he has to say."

Nothing for it, I supposed. "Okay, lead on."

We left quickly while the others were occupied. I felt Ella's concerned glare on my back as I withdrew.

She took me through several doors toward the back of the club, each one attenuating the pulsing sound of the house music coming from the dance area a bit more. Soon it was quiet, and we eventually came to stand before a set of large, double doors with ornate rubbed bronze handles. She knocked.

My sexual buzz was all but gone as I waited uncertainly next to her.

A male voice issued from within, "Come!"

She bade me enter before her and I moved in tentatively. The room was large and dimly lit. The décor was...intimidating, using a palette comprised of black, muted reds, and shades of gray. Sumptuous low-slung black leather couches bracketed an intricately patterned rug that sat upon dark ash hardwood flooring. In a word, it looked...masculine. At the far side of the room was a large wooden desk with a dark lacquer. Behind the desk sat the man whom I was evidently there to see.

My escort nodded her head deferentially, "Here he is, my Lord."

"My Lord?"

"Ahh, excellent! Thank you, Maria, leave us. Oh, and...a bit of privacy, please." He rose gracefully from the desk, approaching me as the woman nodded again before retreating. She closed the doors behind her.

The man was imposing, standing at least a few inches taller than me, and had the solid build of a former special operations soldier -- broad, thick shoulders and meaty all over. Not huge, but solid. He smiled warmly, reaching out to shake hands.

My dad had taught me about proper handshake etiquette. It was an important male lesson, he'd say. "Come into a job interview with some limp-wristed fleshy handshakes, and you're as good as done." So, I did as he'd taught me -- palm to palm contact, very firm but not overbearing grip, solid eye contact, and most importantly -- grip and hold a moment; don't shake.

The man grinned, his thoughts echoing mine. "Ahh, I admire a young man who knows how to greet another man properly." Faint lines at the sides of his eyes and the gray dusting at his temples against his night-black hair painted him as someone in his late forties if I had to guess.

"Elias Romack." His voice was sonorous. It resonated with me. I liked this man.

"Adam. Uh, Adam Connor."

"Pleasure to meet you, Adam." He moved to the desk to open a lacquered box, withdrawing a thick cigar, sniffing the length of it, and holding it to his ear while rolling it in his fingers. Apparently satisfied, he used a guillotine cutter to trim the very tip of its pointed end, then made to offer one to me as well, to which I shook my head.

"Thank you for joining me tonight. Please be at your ease." He indicated I should sit. I did so.

Before seating himself, he stepped to a mirrored dry bar with myriad bottles of alcohol on it set within an alcove next to his desk. "Can I interest you in a dram?"

"Sure." He took two thick-cut crystal tumblers and poured a measure into each from a tall, thin bottle containing a rich brown liquid.

He handed one to me. "Macallan, 26 years aged. One of my personal favorites."

I had no idea what Macallan was, but it smelled strongly when I gave it a sniff. I took a very small sip and experienced a strong burn that traveled all the way down into my stomach. I coughed.

He chuckled as he sat, waving his around in circular motions while nosing the glass. "Good, no?"

Setting his tumbler down, he focused his attention on the cigar he had cut. A small pack of matches sat next to him, and he lit one, holding the flame to the end of the cigar while puffing on it and rolling it with his other hand.

"Adam, I invited you here to...explain a few things.

He stood, pacing while he enjoyed his cigar. "Allow me to make a few predictions about you, and we'll see how close I am."

I gestured for him to continue.

"Some time ago, perhaps not long, you experienced some physical trauma. Since then, you've had a number of different unusual symptoms, many of which you may liken to those that you experienced during puberty. Your body...changing.

"Later, you found that you could affect another's desire. Even those you may never have met." He smirked.

"How am I doing so far?" Elias took a pull from his cigar.

"Eerily accurate, Sir." I said slowly.

He nodded, expecting this. "Eventually, you probably found that you could even control, in some limited fashions, other people's attitudes toward you."

Nodding eagerly, it finally dawned on me that this weird mafia-looking guy might know what was going on with my body. I took another sip, coughing again as I felt the fire run down my throat.

"So, what's happening to me?"

"My friend, you're becoming one of my kind. You're becoming an Incubus."