Page 18 of The Devil and His Sparrow

“I’m fucking irritated, is what I am.” I swiped a clawed hand down my face.

Somewhere in the back of mind, I knew she’d technically never confirmed that she’d slept with someone. But she also never denied it when I implied her sexual experiences. She misled me, which led us here.

It had been so long since I’d gotten bound to a virgin. Well over a century, at least. Those stupid ass stories about demons leering over virgin women and pining after their “innocence?” Bullshit. Virgins were the bane of my existence for this exact reason. Contracts. Forced loyalty. No control over my life and my food.

It was a lot more common to get bound back in the day when people were stricter about sex. One could easily fuck a virgin by mistake, and, consequently, get bound to them in servitude. That feature was an unfortunate part of being an Incubus or Succubus—the balance system put in place so that we couldn’t run amok, seducing every person we saw. There had to be ancient demonic rules to keep us careful.

So back then, we’d double, even triple check, that our partners weren’t virgins. Still, there would be times when they’d deceive us, just to get a demon under their control. The last time I was bound to a human, it was due to a trick that some cult organized so that I’d belong to them.

Over time, that worry of getting bound had dwindled. These days, people were much more open about sex and having those experiences. Not so anal about “saving yourself” or being shamed for enjoying something that was literally meant to be pleasurable. Coming across someone in their twenties who hadn’t indulged in sex—especially among our fanbase—was rare. So rare, in fact, that it had never happened.

Until fucking now.

Turning my fuming attention back on Iyla, I yanked my pants off the floor and pulled them back on.

“What are you?” she asked again. There was no missing the fear coating her words, and that, at least, gave me a little satisfaction.

“Gee, I don’t know. What do I look like?” I snapped, not bothering to disguise the acrimony in my voice.

She looked over my true form, the one I only let out in the demonic realm, in my alone time, or when I was on stage since our personas were demons.

She licked her lips and whispered, “A demon.”

I clapped my clawed hands. “Bra-fucking-vo.” I dropped my hands back to my sides and narrowed my eyes. “You humans never change. So you were playing tricks tonight, hmm? You were really just in it to form a contract with me, is that it?”

“Contract?” She shook her head, her brow scrunched up in confusion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t—I wasn’t—”

I swiped a mirror off an end table that I hadn’t destroyed and tossed it to her. Pointing at my own neck, I explained, “Contract.” I gestured to myself. “Incubus.” I pointed a finger at her. “Human virgin. When one of my kind screws a virgin, we get bound to them.”

She looked at her reflection, and her fingertips came up to brush along the black mark curling around her throat. Her lip trembled like she wanted to cry more. “Bound?”

“Bound,” I repeated as my insides burned with renewed anger.

“I didn’t mean to,” she pleaded, still staring at her reflection and the inky mark decorating it. “I don’t even know what the hell is going on. Did you slip me drugs or something? Am I dreaming?”

“That would certainly make my life easier if you were. Regrettably, you are very much sober, and I am very much attached to you.”

Panic clouded her eyes. She tried wiping the black around her neck away, but it was no use. That was a magical demonic seal. It wasn’t going anywhere. For either of us. “Can’t you just undo it?”

I gave a humorless laugh. “If I could do that, demons wouldn’t have to serve humans who trap us into being their little pets.”

She shook her head, like the mere gesture alone could somehow wipe away the last five minutes. “Can’t I undo it?”

“Sure. Go jump off the fucking balcony for me, because the only way you can undo it is to die.” My breath was coming out hard and fast as the acrimony ate away my cool. “We both know you’re not really interested in breaking the bond, though, you goddamn liar. So what did you trap me for, hmm? You want endless wealth? Immortality? Fame? World domination?”

“No, no.” She held up her hands and shook them as if to dismiss the ideas, but in doing so, the blanket slid down her naked body. She fumbled to grab it and hold it against herself once more. “I don’t want anything. I didn’t know what you were. I-I didn’t even plan on sleeping with you until literally right before it happened.” She swallowed. “I don’t want anything, so let’s just pretend we’re not bound or whatever. We’ll go our separate ways and pretend this nightmare didn’t happen.”

Growling, I stalked around the bed toward her, watching as she tried backing away to no avail. “I wish it was that easy. Unfortunately, when an Incubus gets bound, they can only sleep with that one person. And that’s how we feed. Sex. Orgasms. Pleasure. Which I can only get from you now.”

Stupid motherfucking bond.

They were such an inconvenience. Controlling our food was a huge leverage to have over us, and bonds made that all too easy since we had to rely on them for our meals. To make matters worse, the bond protected the human—for the most part. We couldn’t force ourselves on them and simply take our meal. We couldn’t feed unless it was consensual on their end. Not that rape was my personal preference, anyway.

Her eyes narrowed, and for the first time, she seemed just as mad as me. “That sounds like a you problem. Why should I care?”

Venom dripped from my lips as I hissed, “Because we’ll both die if I don’t eat.”

Her momentary anger slipped away, replaced by a heavy dose of alarm. “What?” she asked. She inched back more. “Is that a threat? Are—Are you going to kill me?”

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