Page 44 of Inflamed By an Incubus

He wouldn’t help the mage with it, but it was better than telling the truth and letting the male know he was gone as soon as the curse was or the mage had proven himself a dead end.

The mage moaned and palmed himself, a desperate look on his face as his brow furrowed. The clone did the same. Gross.

A wave of nausea rolled through Fenix.

Not disgust.

His shoulders tensed and he held it together as he realised how low on energy he was. Not good. If he ended up tapped out, his incubus nature would steal full control of him and before he knew it, he would be the one all over the mage, stealing his energy in a kiss. From there, it was a short hop to seducing every human on the island until he was sated and then he would come around in a few days to find himself in the middle of a sea of naked people, confused as to how he had gotten there and sore in ways that left far too many questions in his head.

It had happened before, a very long time ago.

Fenix didn’t want it to happen again.

So he needed to move faster and wrap this up before he spent the last of his energy.

He looked from the clone to the mage.

Who was looking down at his hand in horror.

“Bollocks,” Fenix muttered again as green orbs swirled around the mage’s hand and he raised it.

So much for charming the male into helping him.

He swept his hand out and grabbed one of the heavy glass jars on the desk, brought it up and threw it in the mage’s face. Powder exploded from the jar, showering the male and blinding him. The mage coughed and spluttered as he stepped backwards, the twin orbs of green that had been spinning around his hand shooting towards the ceiling as he lifted it towards his face. They struck the ceiling, blasting a hole in it. Splinters of wood and plaster rained down on the mage. Fenix didn’t give him a chance to retreat.

He kicked off and closed the distance between them, seized the front of the mage’s coat in his left fist and slammed his right one into his jaw, knocking his head to one side. Blood burst from the mage’s lips, stark against the pale powder that covered him. The clone came at him, shrieking as it slashed at him with sharp claws. A water pipe burst in the attic, pouring like rain into the room, saturating the mage and the clone.

Fenix gritted his teeth as fire blazed in two lines down his left shoulder as the clone sliced through his shirt and twisted at the waist to bash the mage against him.

It screamed as some of the powder on the mage’s face landed on its damp papery skin.

Fenix grimaced as smoke curled from the clone’s cheek, as the skin burned away to reveal pink flesh and tendons, and then teeth. What the hell had been in that bottle?

He froze.

Oh gods.

His gaze leaped to the mage, his eyes widening as he saw the blisters on his face and another grimace tugging at his lips as one of them burst, spilling liquid that cut through his skin as the mage howled in agony. Fenix was quick to release him, stumbled back a step and checked his hands, panic at the helm as the mage and the clone continued to bellow and shriek. Pale residue coated his knuckles and he pivoted, his gaze seeking something dry to wipe it on.

When he spotted a robe hanging on the wall, he teleported there, avoiding the water. He hurriedly wiped his hand on the soft black material, ridding himself of every last speck of the powder and not stopping until the room fell quiet and his senses said that his shot at getting information had just died.

Fenix breathed hard, turned and slumped against the wall as he checked his knuckles. Relief poured through him as he stared at them, his hands shaking as his mind raced, conjuring images of how badly things might have gone for him too if the water had mixed with the powder.

All of his focus remained on his hand, part of him waiting for his skin to start blistering, as he stared at the dead mage. Water poured down on the male where he lay in a ball on the floor, the flesh of his face and his hands melted, leaving only bone behind.

Fenix twisted to his right and vomited.

Grimaced and spat when his stomach was empty, and heaved a sigh as he sagged into the wall again.

He grabbed the robe and tossed it over the body, and made a mental note not to go around throwing any ingredient owned by a mage in the future. He surveyed the room. A lot of it had survived. He wasn’t sure how long he had to clear the place out before the authorities arrived though.

He was going to need help.

Chapter 13

Fenix edged out of the room, avoiding the dead mage, and found two filing boxes in another room. He placed them by the entrance to the mage’s study and went downstairs, found the water shut-off valve and twisted it. He headed back upstairs, grabbed the boxes and went to the first bookcase. He popped two pills as he loaded the boxes up with the scrolls, tomes and scraps of paper, aware he was going to need more energy in order to clear out the room and put his plan into action. Once the boxes were full, he stacked them on top of each other and bundled them into his arms.

He teleported to the main entrance hall of his home in Scotland.

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