Page 45 of Inflamed By an Incubus

And almost ran straight into Tiny, who was tidying the evidence of what looked suspiciously like a party.

Tiny locked up tight, his grip on the broom handle tightening so fiercely his knuckles burned white and Fenix was surprised he didn’t crush the wooden pole.

“Don’t tell me,” Fenix huffed, already able to imagine who had caused the sea of panties, plastic cups and bras that were draped over all his antique furniture and littered the floor. “I don’t want to know. Here, take the top one.”

Before he dropped both of them.

Teleporting so many times had left him depleted again, despite his pills. Maybe Hella would have another tonic for him, because he really needed a hit of energy, and he didn’t have the time or inclination to find a female to kiss. His mood soured at just the thought, until Evelyn danced into his head, making it foggy as heat rolled through him in response and his cock ached in his jeans.

Tiny was swift to drop his broom and reach for the box. The broom clattered as it hit the tiled floor, startling Fenix out of his daydream about his mate, and a male voice echoed along the corridor at the top of the stairs.

“Gods, Tiny, you scared me half to death. You need to work on your coordination. Dropping shit like that. I thought Fe—” Rane came to an abrupt halt at the top of the right wooden staircase that swept up to the first floor, his swirling blue-gold eyes impossibly wide. The enormous male swallowed hard, cleared his throat and nervously said, “Fenix. You’re back. Look at the mess Mort made. I told him that—”

“Spare me the bullshit and put some clothes on. I’m not talking to you while you’re standing there stark bollock naked and reeking of sex.” Fenix set the box he held down on the floor and glared up at the younger incubus.

Rane cast a glance down at his bare body and awkwardly scrubbed a hand over his dark hair. “Uh… forgot to get dressed.”

Fenix narrowed his eyes and advanced on him, stoked his anger so the male would feel it and know he was in deep shit. “You want to leave my house, then you’re going about it the right way. No more parties. No more guests. My house isn’t a bordello. It’s not a sex den. You want to live that kind of life, you do it elsewhere.”

He never had been interested in treating a home as if it was just there to house extravagant orgies like many incubi, and he wouldn’t tolerate another incubus treating his home in that manner either.

He reached the top of the stairs and squared up to Rane, glaring right into his eyes as they settled, turning brown again.

“Last warning, Rane. I scent even a whiff of sex in this place, I hear a female has set foot on this property without my consent, and you and Mort are out on your arses… no more protection.” Fenix pressed his chest to Rane’s and smiled slowly as the colour drained from his face. “I’m not sure how long you’d last out there on your own.”

Rane’s throat worked on a hard swallow as his brow furrowed. “Fenix… please… she’ll kill me.”

Fenix shrugged and pivoted away from him, heading back down the stairs. “Not my problem if you keep on the way you’ve been keeping on… You should have thought about the consequences of messing with a witch. You know we classify as demons in their world.”

And no witch could accept the seed of a demon in her body without it deeply affecting her connection to the earth and her magic.

And marking her like a scarlet letter for all witches to see.

Fenix looked up at Rane and couldn’t miss how shaken he was by the thought of an angry witch discovering where he was hiding, something she could do if he left the grounds of this house for more than a few hours. The only reason she hadn’t tracked him down yet was the spell Abigail and Agatha had kindly done for him, one that concealed this place and everyone in it, and provided them with a twelve-hour period in which they remained concealed if they travelled outside it.

As soon as Rane remained beyond the boundary of the spell for longer than that, the witch would be onto him. It would only be a matter of time before she found him.

“Get dressed. Get Mort.” He turned away from Rane again. “We have a lake house to raid.”

He was going to read every document, every scrap of paper in that house, was going to strip it bare in the hope he could learn something, even if it was only more locations of other mages. He had to do something.

Maybe he would get lucky.

He huffed and watched Rane trudge back towards his room.

He had never been lucky.

Outside, lightning split the sky and shook the earth.

Rain hammered the windows.

The scent of magic laced the air.

Fenix had the feeling that Rane’s luck was about to run out too.

Rane hurried back to the landing, his brown eyes wide and his skin paling as he stared at the windows that flanked the main entrance behind Fenix and Tiny.

As angry as the incubus made him at times, as furious as he was right that second because of the way Rane and Mort insisted on treating his home, Fenix couldn’t stop himself from going to the male and placing his hand on his shoulder. He squeezed it gently but Rane didn’t look at him. His eyes remained locked on the front of the house.

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