Page 27 of Inflamed By an Incubus

A stray thought shook her to her core.

Or maybe she was the one desperate for him to touch her.

She went to turn away.

He stopped her in her tracks.

“I’m not a threat to you, Evelyn. I never am. It’s rare for you to see it that way though.” He smiled slightly when she looked back at him. “I shouldn’t tell you any of this. It never ends well when I tell you things.”

He chuckled mirthlessly.

Or perhaps maniacally judging by the glint in his eyes.

“It never ends well regardless.”

Evelyn swallowed hard and told herself that he was only trying to rattle her, was probably enjoying watching the conflict that was no doubt playing out in her eyes as she stared at him, as his words sank in and her mind raced, trying to make sense of them and the apprehension she felt.

She turned her cheek to him, hesitated and glanced back at him, unable to bring herself to leave without another glimpse of him, and then forced herself to go. She marched along the corridor, picking up speed as everything he had told her whirled around her mind, as she tried to purge it and deny it.

He was trying to shake her, probably acted like this around everyone who came to him.

But the thought that he didn’t, the notion that he might be different around her, plagued her and filled her mind and her heart with a question she tried to ignore.

Had he known her before she had lost her memories?

Chapter 8

Evelyn had dreamed of fire. Again. She had woken in a cold sweat, her heart racing and head spinning, and an urge had shot through her.

A need to see the incubus.

Instead of heading to his pen, she had hit the gym, had worked out until she had dropped and then returned to her quarters. Archer had left a note under her door. He was worried about her and had the feeling she was avoiding him.

She finished drying her hair off and groaned into the towel, pressing it to her face. She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to stay away from Archer. No. She was. It was the incubus. He had put it in her head that something wasn’t right about Archer and that she couldn’t trust him. The incubus had succeeded in driving a wedge between them.

Well, she was going to remove it.

She would track Archer down and make things right between them again and apologise for being so distant.

But first, there was something else she needed to do.

She had to know whether the incubus’s behaviour around her was different to how he acted around others.

She clung to the idea that it wasn’t. He didn’t treat her differently. He didn’t act differently when he was alone with her.

To prove that to herself, she pulled her uniform on and jammed her feet into her boots, and left her quarters behind to wind her way down through the building. When she reached cellblock D, she didn’t head for him. She went straight to the observation room at the start of the cellblock and grabbed a mug of coffee from the machine at the back of the darkened room before nodding a greeting to the man overseeing the wall of monitors that covered every angle and cell in the block. He dipped his head and went back to his work, and she settled herself in front of one of the monitors reserved for watching footage. She knew a lot of hunters who liked to be an active part of what happened to their detainees, but that had never been her style.

In fact, she could count the number of times she had checked out the CCTV feeds on one hand.

Evelyn tied her damp blonde hair up into a high ponytail, put the headphones on and sipped her coffee. She scrolled through the list of recordings and frowned as she spotted other recordings on the same dates put together with them, only they weren’t of his cell. She clicked on one of them, curiosity moving her finger before she could get the better of herself and stay focused on viewing the footage of his cell.

Her stomach twisted slightly as the image came up on screen and she made sense of what she was seeing. The incubus was naked in it, strapped to a metal board that had been tilted at an angle so he was standing upright, and he wasn’t the only one in the room. There was a nude female too.

Evelyn set her mug down as that female approached him, anger spiking in her blood for some reason as she watched her rubbing herself all over the incubus and kissing him. Her fingers tightened against the mug until she had a white-knuckle grip on it, her temperature soared and her jaw clenched as she closed the recording and tried another one, and found it was the same scenario.

But a different female.

She clicked the next one, and then the next, moving faster and faster through close to a dozen recordings that each showed the same thing.

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