The Interloper Bk. 01

"Things change."

I continued to inch back, scared that if I made an all out run for it, he'd think it was a chase and bring me down. While he didn't look like he'd rape me, the fear was still there, along with an even deeper fear that said the feelings of pain, shame, and humiliation that would come from rape wouldn't take over me because the incubus would never let them. Somehow he'd make it consensual, and when the dust settled, I'd hate myself even more for loving every minute of it.

"Caster—"

"Ah, the way you say my name—" His eyes closed and his neck swiveled. When he opened his eyes again they were almost black. "—makes my dick hard."

I felt the edge of the opening with my toe and thanked my lucky stars. Whatever was happening to him was affecting the hell out of me too. My breasts were heavier, like they'd gone up a cup size, and tender as all get out. Same with my clit, except it was also wet and throbbed horribly. All I wanted to do was throw caution to the wind and myself at him and give in to the crazy sexual desire pushing at me on all sides.

"I'm not going to have sex with you," I said with far more certainty than I felt.

His smile was fanged and patient. "I think you'll reconsider."

He was within arm's reach of me when I fell back and out of the cave. I rolled to the floor, cursing the entire time, but something stopped me. Something that felt suspiciously like a pair of legs. Had Caster been able to move that fast?

"Look what we have here," a voice boomed above me, definitely not Caster.

I opened my eyes to find three . . . uh, werewolves, I think, surrounding me. They looked like werewolves. Fangs, tails, pointed ears, slitted eyes, and hairy, but I'd thought that werewolves were either one or the other—wolf or man. These things looked mid-change.

"envoys ," the werewolf to the left laughed deeply, "ripe for the picking."

Scrambling up and away from the men, I felt the ground jump for a second and looked over my shoulder to find Caster a few feet away from me, knees bent, eyes trained on the wolves with his lips drawn back in a snarl.

He made the first move. Jumped over me and kicked one of the wolves square in the chest. The guy flew into a tree, making the trunk vibrate with the impact. I crawled on my hands and knees away from the action, content to hide and let the boys duke it out, when a hand wrapped around my ankle. "Think I could get a pretty price for you, human."

My body flipped instinctively, other foot turning and catching the guy in the face. Blood spurted from his mouth and he released me instantly. Oh, that's right! I'd forgotten that Fever had spent the last four weeks whipping my ass into shape morning, noon, and night. Killing the fire demon had been my recurring fantasy for a while, especially when she pulled sneak attacks. Now I just wanted to kiss her feet and thank her for everything.

Hopping up, I shifted to the werewolf who'd attacked me. He was sitting on the ground, rubbing his jaw and glaring murder at me. In one swift move, he got to his feet. "I'll fuck the shit out of you before the delivery."

My smile was all ferocious feminist. "Never."

While Caster practically ripped the other two werewolves apart with his hands, I beat mine down to a pulp. Punching and kicking, evading and striking. Fever was a hundred times better than this guy and the few times he did get a hit in felt like love taps. Again the need to kill the fire demon and kiss her rumbled through my head, before I decided on kissing while swiping the wolf's legs out from under him and pressing my shoe on his windpipe.

A deafening howl pierced the fight, jarring me and giving the wolf time to throw me off. I covered my ears and Caster did the same, giving the wolves plenty of time to drag their sorry asses back to whatever hell hole they'd crawled up from.

"Next time," the werewolf I'd been fighting sneered loudly over the howling. "Next time."

The howling seemed to get louder, driving me to my knees and making my eyes cross. God, just make it stop! I was in the I-think-my-ears-are-bleeding stage when it finally cut with the swiftness of a light switch being flipped off. Panting harshly with my knees buried in the mushy dirt of the ground, I stared at Caster over the forest floor and watched his pupils slowly contract back to their normal size. The air wasn't charged anymore, and the weird heat that seemed to cross between us like kindling wasn't there. In its place though was surreal fear mixed with a surprising amount of pride. I wasn't dead. Yay for me!

"What the hell just happened?"

"We were attacked."

Obviously. "But why? I get that we're envoys , but we didn't have the book on us. And our bikes are right here! Fully intact. Doesn't even look like they touched 'em."

My eyes shifted left and right, scanning the small forest they'd escaped into. I knew there was nothing past it, just grass-covered hills. "We should go after them," I said before remembering I was a Women's Studies human. Too much Alias and Buffy the Vampire Slayer hadn't just melted my brain but molded it into a badass fight chick. My body, of course, didn't get molded with it. Yet.

"We're not going after them," Caster grumbled, raising to his feet and stomping over to his bike.

"We could." I had faith in my skills now that I knew Fever hadn't just been torturing me.

"We won't. We don't know their numbers, and the cry just now was from an Alpha. Fighting him is death assured." He swung his leg over and settled on the bike, a wince contorting his face as he lifted up on the seat and adjusted himself.

My eyes zoomed to where his hand moved between his legs. Bad idea. The crazy feeling of lust hit me in the sweet spot, blowing away the fear eating at me. Caster swung his head toward me, expression so thunderous he should have been a cloud. "You're doing that on purpose."

"What?"

"If I get off this bike," he growled, running his eyes down my body. "I'm fucking you."

I shifted uncomfortably on the ground, deciding that Caster was right and I should just be happy to be alive. Scratch that—ecstatic! Dragging myself off the forest floor, I tried to dust off the worst of the mud as I walked toward my bike, picking out leaves from my curls as I went. What I wouldn't do for a hot oil treatment and a blow out. "Are you still on about that?"

"It's my nature."

"Pfft. It's your dick."

"I'm an incubus."

"And I'm a human!" I sighed, throwing my arms up as I settled on the bike seat. "Where I come from, men get no reason boners and women get no reason wet all the time. So, I'm wet. It's not like I'm telling you I'm raring to go. Get over yourself."

Plopping my helmet on, I didn't wait for it to conform to my head before I turned on the bike and sped ahead of him. I'd had my breaking point weeks ago, and I wasn't in the habit of repeating things that didn't work. So I'd almost died, so I had cold mud crusting on my clothes, so Caster was a horny asshole who made me horny just being around him. If I lost my shit again and God forbid wrecked the bike, I'd have hell to pay. Trashing Tessa's kitchen had put me on her shit list comprised of flavorless meals that all looked the same color and smelled worse than puke on a hot sidewalk for three days. I bet that crashing one of the CEM's bikes would put me on an even worse list.

Still, it wasn't like fury had an off switch.

The drive back to Duke's compound took a little longer because I didn't know where I was going, and Caster had been fine to let me angry-drive for a while before pulling in front of me and guiding us home. The thorny vine security system uncurled itself and let us pass as we slowed our bikes to a crawl and moseyed into the shadowed courtyard, courtesy of the quickly setting sun.

Still angry at myself, my situation, and Caster, put being gentle with the bike and the book low on my list of to dos. I yanked my helmet off and slammed it down. Then I opened my bike seat and took out the satchel, about to toss it to Caster to give to Duke.

"That's yours."

"Fine." I slung the bag over my head and spun on my heel, ready for a shower, some TV, and bed.

"We need to talk, Matilda."

I was surprised he even knew my name, and not a bit happy with the way he said it. Cocking my hips, I turned and gave Caster my best fuck-with-me-if-you-wanna stare. "Oh yeah?"

He adjusted on the bike but made no move to get off. "I'll continue working with you—"

"Not like you had a choice."

"—as long as you control yourself. I am an incubus, not some puny human male. You need to learn the difference."

"Control myself?" Like I was the one threatening to have sex with people left and right.

"Next time you get wet," he said softly, too softly, "I can't be faulted for my actions."

Three and a half years of gender studies and women's rights came pouring out of my mouth in a torrent of outrage and indignation, "You choose to let yourself go and give into your baser male instincts because you feel entitled and emboldened by the tree inches between your legs to lay claim to something that was never and will never be yours. Lust is not an excuse to force yourself on someone, and neither is that other someone smelling a certain way invitation to do anything. If I ever choose to sleep with you, it will be mutual, of my own volition; yes, will come out of my mouth to let you know I'm ready. No is not foreplay; it's not some reverse version of yes; and it's not a suggestion. Next time I get wet, I get wet. That shouldn't affect you in any shape or form considering it's my body and my right to do whatever I want with it. And it'll be a cold day in hell before I. Do. You."

With that, I turned and walked into the house, ready to eat whatever the equivalent of either ice cream or chocolate was in this world. His strangled half shout didn't even phase me, "It's more than tree inches!"

That's all he'd heard? Men. "Keep telling yourself that."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Once Caster and I moved past the "screwing each other" part of our bizarre relationship, we worked well together. Like, surprisingly well. He took over training me from Fever in our second week on the job, and by our third week, we had signals and codes only we knew to help in less-than-friendly situations. That came in handy more times than I could count. Come week four, we were on fire. Duke sent us on five different assignments—one of them overnight—and we found out some of the juicy, juicy gossip in his region.

The best part of the missions, overwhelmingly, was the traveling. I'd always had a travel bug, and the places we went satisfied the hell out of the little thing. There were witches, ghosts, weres, and fairies. Creatures both from mythology and modern paranormal romance novels that I wasn't ashamed to say I read on occasion, and they each had a different environment they lived in. Some weren't too different—faires still congregated near trees and merfolk still needed large bodies of water—but others were complete opposites.

With every new and amazing site or creature I saw, my strength in my path and the job I'd chosen intensified. Falling through the old-timey photo booth and landing on Yenos seemed like five lifetimes ago. Though I did still think of Brandon and James and what a horrible nanny I'd inadvertently been. I called the house once to check up on everyone, only to be told I was a terrible person, I'd never work in San Diego again, and my "shit" was on the curb. On the plus side, the boys were alive, so there was that.

The curtain door of my room whooshed open on oiled tracks and Fever sauntered in. She wore her usual ensemble of leather, but it sagged on her frame as if she'd lost weight. Still, even a few pounds lighter, the red haired fire demon was sexy as sin and if I wasn't strickly dicky . . . .

I raised a brow from my spot on the couch as she used her hand to swing her body over onto the couch across from me. She propped up her legs, muddied boots leaving stains that'd never come out of the fabric.

I paused Dance Moms—the show I'd started binge watching in my spare time because it made me feel more human for some reason—and smiled wide. It was my first day off in over a month and I was reveling in the fact that I didn't have to censor myself or walk on eggshells because I didn't understand the customs. "Feeling better, Fi?"

When I'd went to her room this morning, Cherry told me that Fever was feeling terrible. For a second I was concerned until he waved it off and dismissed the whole situation with a "It's a girl thing." Enough said.

She shrugged. "Stopped throwing up out of my ears."

My eyes bulged and I whipped my head to her. "You're joking?"

"Not even a bit." She glared at the frozen TV screen, no doubt dreading the marathon I was about to have her sit through.

Last time I'd had even a few hours of free time we'd done what Fever wanted to do, which consisted of swimming from the Iron First mermaid colony's Church after Fever practically boiled her ex-boyfriend alive because he'd spread a rumor that all her heat was external. (Basically he called her a frigid bitch.) The only good thing that had come out of the whole ordeal was that I 1) learned to swim really fast, and 2) finally understood what a "Church" was—Ray's version of police.

"Well, okay then," I said as I turned off the TV so she wouldn't glare so hard laser beams shot out of her eyes. Not that I'd seen her do that, but stranger things had happened. "And that's normal for fire demons?"

She cocked her head. "When you're pregnant with a ladon it is." She frowned and seemed to reconsider. "Maybe."

Did I hear her correctly? No, no, I couldn't have. "You're pregnant?"

Suddenly, she lurched forward and her whole face turned a shade of lemon yellow that belonged on custard pie. After a terrible retching sound that—I swear!—came from her ears, she held still. Very still. Swallowed once. Then finally turned and shrugged in what I assumed was a yes.

"With Cherry's kid?" I still couldn't process that Fever, badass extraordinaire, was pregnant. With a baby. That she'd have to give birth to and take care of and mother. God, I'd skinned half of my body fighting with her once and she'd said, "Lick it. You're fine."

The world obviously flipped on its axis.

"That is what I said, Tills." Ugh, she was the only one who called me that and I hated it to no end. She collapsed back into the couch, the yellow fading to a mint green as she closed her eyes. "Took me long enough."

"What do you mean?"

"Cherry and I aren't biologically compatible. So we had to go through a lot."

"Such as?"

She raised her hand and began to tick off her fingers. I'm pretty sure she got the habit from me. "Tudo, I went to a high priestess to get a fertility spell. Had to flounce around naked like an idiot for a chome. Then I went to Silver—remember him? The alchemist."

"Vaguely."

"He gave me a concoction that tasted like shit so my body wouldn't completely shut down when the mages reconfigured my organs and put in new parts for the egg."

The egg? I was afraid to ask.

She sighed and seemed to sink deeper into the couch, her slight body absorbed by the cushions. "It's been a tough couple of months, but I'm finally pregnant." She half heartedly pumped her fist (another Tilly-ism). "Woo!"

A sudden vision of Caster and I horizontal sans clothing popped into my head, and the warm heat that I'd felt before when I'd had the same vision froze over. Me, pregnant with his demon spawn egg followed next, and there was no way in Heaven, Hell, or any other place that that was happening. Caster and sex were officially water and oil.

Fever lurched forward again and purple slime began to ooze out of her ears. "What the fuck?" I screamed, scrambling up the couch as the slime dripped in heavy globs down to her shoulder, the couch, the floor.

She opened her mouth and blue water came out with—I shit you not—a tiny bright green fish swimming in it. Before she could tell me to calm down or make up some story about this being totally normal, I sprinted from the room and dashed across the grassy grounds to the red tents beneath the waterfall. I'd only been to the witches' tents once before when Fever had accidentally burned me and the healing tonic had run dry. That time, she hadn't used her "lick it" cure all. After a quick spell from one of the female witches and a soothing salve, I'd been hunky-dory. I only hoped they could do the same for Fever.

Pushing through the thick crimson tarp, I had a moment of displacement as if my mind was ahead of my body and my torso was ahead of my feet. Nothing felt insync. But just as quickly, it passed and I stepped into a clean space with a wooden table and benches and millions of potions hanging from the ceiling and dotting the walls. The red tents on Duke's grounds weren't actually where the witches operated, they were just portals to Janos.

A tinkling sound to my left made me turn to see a woman in a bright orange dress and headwrap step into the room with a bustle of herbs overflowing from the basket in her arms. She looked up and pale gray eyes met mine. "Tilly?"

I tried to place her. Tall, skinny but not anorexic, skin so dark it almost had a blue-ish tint in the sun. Her one truly striking feature was the hair peeking through the head scarf. Blonde, very blonde, and bizarrely natural looking. I still couldn't remember her name. "I'm so sorry, I forgot your name."

"Ship."

"Uh-huh. Okay." Wringing my hands, I tried to think of the best way to tell Ship that my friend was oozing purple stuff from her ears and puking fish.

"Fever's in trouble."

In a second, the woman's features tightened. The basket in her arms tipped precariously against her hip. "What is it?"

"She's sick. There's purple slime coming from her ears and she's throwing up water with fishes in it." It was only one fish, but still.

"Is the water blue?"

No it was pink. What kind of question was that? Oh wait, I'm not on Earth. "Yes, the water is blue."

Before I could think to cover my ears, she spun to the doorway she'd come from and belted out, "Emergency! Fire demon miscarrying ladon!"

The hanging potions swung and the floor rolled as four other witches rushed into the room and began grabbing various things from the shelves. "Come on, Tilly," Ship said, taking my arm and leading me back threw the flap. Again I felt a moment of displacement, but I didn't have time to come back to myself before we were running across the lawn. We were halfway between the tents and my room when my body felt like itself and every cell fell back into place.

We ran faster, but I stumbled about five feet from the bamboo, eyes going wide. Gasping, flopping fish dotted the grass where the hallway opened to the field and a small stream of water flowed over its side.

The air charged for a split second, lightning flashing across my skin in a sensation I'd felt only once before when another witch heeled me.

La Sirene, La Sirene, La Sirene

Keep these fish safe and clean

Cloak them in the waters so they may live

To them your blessing, I beg you give

Instantly, the water began to bend and shape around the fish in orbs. They floated on the blades of grass like much bigger water droplets. Somehow my jaw didn't hit the floor and I didn't hit the fish orbs as bolted onto the hallway. A few steps from my open door, Ship stopped me. "Stay here!"