Page 33 of Inflamed By an Incubus

“Not sure.” Fenix pressed his cheek to the glass and tried to see along the corridor. He couldn’t see shit though. Nothing past the cell next to the fae’s one. “Something is happening. Just be ready to move if these cells open. Not liking our chances here.”

His gut twisted, a need pouring through him, one that said he was going to have to take his chances with all the armed hunters if he did get the opportunity to escape. He couldn’t leave Evelyn here. He needed to find her and take her with him. He tried to battle that urge, fought a war with himself that he knew he would lose the moment the glass lifted. No matter what decision he made while trapped in this cell, it was going to change the second he was free.

His instincts as her mate wouldn’t let him leave her behind.

More armed hunters rushed past the cell.

The alarms started again, the flashing lights stinging his eyes as he pressed closer to the glass, desperately trying to see something, anything that might tell him what was happening.

A shriek pierced the wailing noise, had the fae across the corridor growling low, and Fenix knew why. He smelled blood too.

Archangel was under attack.

The metallic clash of weapons rang along the hallway and Fenix breathed harder, mentally preparing himself for a fight he was sure was coming, rolling his way. He strained to hear who was attacking Archangel, reached out with his dampened senses and cursed the cell that surrounded him. He could feel someone out there. Someone powerful. But he couldn’t tell what breed that person was with the magical-whatever-it-was hindering his powers.

The siren ceased and the lights stopped flashing, and the fae bit out a ripe curse in his native tongue as white lights burst back to life. They blinded Fenix too and he flinched away from the glass.

He sensed that the powerful person he had detected was closer now, strained to listen in on murmured voices that were still at a distance.

Grimaced and grunted as a loud bang echoed along the corridor and the floor bucked, knocking him to his backside. A deep fracture snaked like a jagged bolt of lightning across the thick glass barrier of his cell. Hope bloomed inside him. He looked at the fae. The male was on his knees now, flashing fangs and digging the points of his claws into the glass as he slid a black, vicious look towards the direction the shockwave had come from. Pieces of glass bounced past Fenix’s cell and he banged on the fractured barrier, trying to get the attention of whoever was blasting people out of their cells.

He saw a sliver of a leg clad in skin-tight black armour consisting of tiny scales.

An elf.

“Hey! Mate! Let us out,” he hollered and the blue-black-haired male reared back and glanced at him.

“Desist!” That deep, commanding snarl had the elf’s head snapping towards the far end of the corridor and his violet eyes widening.

A wave of power washed over Fenix and he banged his fists against the glass, didn’t want to be stuck in here with whoever had just shown up because they were strong, far stronger than he was, and his gut said they weren’t on good terms with the elf in the corridor.

That elf was quick to disappear, and Fenix sensed two others vanish with him.

“Fuck,” he bit out and eyed the glass barrier, checking every inch of it, desperately trying to find a way to make it open.

The newcomer he had felt drew closer and Fenix heard voices again, too quiet for him to make out what they were saying. He couldn’t see the owner of that deep voice either. He looked at the fae, wanting to know if he could. The fae shook his head and returned to stroking his fingers over the glass, his crimson-to-silver eyes roaming over it as he muttered things to himself beneath his breath.

Long seconds ticked past as Fenix banged his fist against the cell door, haemorrhaging hope at a rapid pace. Any second now, the person in the corridor would do as the elf had done. They would have broken out whoever they were here to save and they would be gone, and every soul in the block would pay for what had happened. The hunters were bound to punish those left behind.

He stepped back from the glass and assessed it again. If he rammed it hard enough, would the faults in it widen? Could he keep beating it until it gave and shattered?

He wasn’t sure he had the strength to do it, but he was going to try.

Fenix mustered his strength, pulled down a breath and blew it out, and ran at the glass, dropping his shoulder as he neared it.

The barrier whooshed upwards and glass bit into his bare feet as he crossed the corridor at speed and collided with the fae, who was staring in shock at the ceiling.

The male grunted as Fenix accidentally took him down, landing on top of him.

“Sorry, mate.” Fenix pushed himself up, leaped off him and to a distance when the fae growled and tossed him a black look, and he felt just how powerful the male was.

Whoever had been in the corridor had nothing on this fae.

A sense of darkness and danger buffeted Fenix in powerful waves that had him easing another step back, moving to what felt like a safer distance. If there was such a thing. The male’s power continued to press down on him, thickening the air as he picked himself up and dusted off his black trousers, and shock trickled through Fenix as he swore the sensation was growing stronger.

Darker.

Fenix clung to the belief that the male wouldn’t harm him, replayed all the hours they had passed in idle conversation, when he had begun to feel the fae liked him.

---