Page 40 of Wicked Succubus

“Please, call me Zel.” My words sound far away, mousey, and terrified.

“Why? Zelyah is such a beautiful name.” He leans closer when I don’t respond. “If you seduce my son, we’ll keep that you’re a Succubus a secret.”

His lips move slower than the words echoing between us. My heart gallops painfully as I try to back away, but the garden slowly darkens around us, and a heavy fog wraps me in its misty embrace. The image of Agent Cooper’s father swims in the watercolor haze before me until he’s gone completely. It’s like a horror scene where I’m going to get attacked by a zombie or a ghoul. The only thing missing is the cemetery. I walk further down, but everything looks the same—dark and misty.

My mind is awake and aware that I should be sleeping right now. I try to grasp my bed sheets, hoping to wake back up, but I can’t. Panic rises in my chest, and as I look down, I find myself sitting in a vibrant yellow sundress. My skin glows against the bright sun. I can’t seem to place where I am, but I find a man leaning against a tree , watching me with a smirk. My body relaxes but only slightly.

Killian? What is he doing here? Is this real or a memory? I can’t tell anymore. I pinch myself to see if it’s a dream. Ouch. It fucking hurts. Oh no! Fuck! This can’t be happening to me right now. This is dream manipulation. He can walk into my dreams. My panic slowly rises again. I sit completely still, wondering how much he saw of my conversation with Agent Cooper’s dad, and worse, how much he heard.

I’m toast if he heard the word Succubus. Can he lock me in this dream? Am I going to be able to escape? My claustrophobia rises. Am I going to be confined into this space until he lets me go? Is my mind going to be let free? Or will they bring up my worst nightmares over and over as a way to punish me for being someone I never had control of?

I look around the beautiful landscape for a way out, but there isn’t one. I take deep breaths, reminding myself that I’m smarter than this, and I’ll find a way if I need to. For now, I’ll play the part. Nothing is wrong.

He pushes off the tree and comes closer to me. “Your mind was like a fortress. It took all night to get inside, well, all morning.” Did he hear anything? “For being a shifter without being able to shift, your defenses are strong. I bet if you were able to shift, you’d be a strong one. What shifter are you anyway?”

“A bear,” I respond quickly. It’s the first thing that came to mind. I should have said wolf, they’re a bit more of a ruthless race. Plus, Bear Shifters tend to be taller, and I’m on the shorter side.

He doesn’t mention anything about my last dream. Maybe he wasn’t able to get through it. “Apologies for keeping you in limbo. Once I was able to get in, your mind started pushing back.”

Probably my own natural defenses.

“Where—” I look around the dreamscape in amazement. I’m sitting in a field of daisies. Losing all train of thought, I pluck one of the flowers and twirl the firm stem between my index finger and my thumb. I touch the soft white petals next. This all seems too real. “Where are we?” I finally ask, taking my eyes away from the flower.

“I use this place to think.” There’s a soft humming in the distance. I turn my attention to the sound. I get up, and it’s like a thread pulling me toward the calming waves. I’m so distracted that I don’t notice when my bare feet sink into the sand. Warm water hits my toes; it’s clear and turquoise, reminding me of Agent Cooper’s eyes. My hair flutters in the warm breeze.

“What do you think?” His breath tickles the back of my neck, sending a violent shiver through my body. He’s so close that my heart thumps loudly. Angling my head to take in his sharp jawline and full lips, I want to reach out and touch his face, but I keep my hands firmly at my sides instead.

“It’s beautiful,” I respond. Then the dream he interrupted comes crashing down. Now my heart pounds for other reasons. “Did you umm—” How do I word this without making it too obvious? “Did you see the other dream?”

Killian stops for a moment, startled by the change of conversation, but I need to know if he saw anything. “Oh, you were talking with someone.”

My palms get sweaty, my heart pounds, my muscles tense. The fight-or-flight adrenaline kicks in even though I have no escape. I’m trapped. He knows where I stay, and he controls this dream. All I can do is wait for the outcome.

“I couldn’t see the person’s face.”

I gaze at the ocean again so he won’t recognize the immense relief that washes over me. The tension throughout my body slowly melts away. My secret remains safe for now. I keep my emotions in check, not daring to look into his eyes until I’m calm again. Instead, I let my eyes wander across the rolling waves to alleviate my anxiety.

“It was really murky,” he continues. “It felt like I was underwater, and everything was too blurry for me to really get a read on who and what the conversation was about.” I breathe a sigh of relief. “I just want to hang out with you with no one else involved, so I brought you here.”

Then my stomach turns for other reasons. I’m attracted to this guy. I know how dangerous it is for both of us to get involved because one, he’s tracking me, and two, I might accidentally kill him. It’s just not a great combination, like pineapple on pizza. Plus, it might end both of our lives.

“So, you’re going on a date tonight?” He grabs the daisy I plucked earlier and twirls it around in his strong fingers before bringing it up and tucking it behind my ear.

That small gesture has my whole body vibrating with need. I clench my thighs tighter together. Can he tell if I’m aroused in this dream world?

“I have a date tonight,” I confirm. “We’re going to Eclipse Noir.”

I watch how tightly he clenches his jaw. It bothers him that I’m meeting with someone else. I wonder if he thought Agent Cooper was my boyfriend. Maybe they would have gotten along if it wasn’t for me. They both work for the supernatural community, doing their bidding and getting rid of the bad apples.

He leans his mouth toward the shell of my ear and whispers, “If you want someone to mess around with, I’ll volunteer.”

I’d rather go with him, but I have no other option. I have to hunt to feed, and I don’t really want to kill this guy because that’s what would happen if we have sex or if he finds out what I am. His lips brush over my neck in a whisper of a kiss, and my body responds by leaning back against his chest. I close my eyes, trying to suppress a moan. He grabs my hair and massages my scalp, careful not to touch the flower, and I have to bite my lip hard to keep me grounded. His fingertips trace up and down my sides. He might be a trained killer, but he knows how to use his hands for things other than killing. Two can play this game.

I turn to face him, “If the date doesn’t work out—” I run my finger up and down his shirt, “—then you can take me out.”

No, Zelyah, what are you thinking? I have no idea where this came from. I really need to learn how to keep my mouth shut.

“It’s not going to work out—with Easton,” he whispers against my lips, “You’ll be seeking me out by the end of the night,” he says huskily before he bites my bottom lip.

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