Page 48 of Inflamed By an Incubus

The wolf stared wide-eyed at her hand, where it tightly gripped his.

Fenix knew that look.

Spell or no spell, the wolf was done for.

Hella owned him, whether she wanted him or not.

Chapter 14

Fenix teleported with Hella and her wolf, landing in a guest room in the mansion, one that smelled a little musty and needed a bit of sprucing up. The wolf slid Hella a heated look as Fenix released her and she continued to hold his hand.

“Get settled in and then come down to the library.” Fenix made a fast exit, was out of the door in under a second and charging down the hallway, because he didn’t need to be the audience for a repeat performance of what he had witnessed in the fae town.

He took the stairs down to the ground floor and went to the library, where Mort, Rane and Tiny were waiting for him. Tiny looked up from arranging the papers, rolls of parchment, and books spread across the long wooden table in the centre of the room.

“Des headed out for the night.” Tiny went back to his work.

Fenix knew why the older incubus had decided to hit the fae town. It had been a while since the male had fed and having Hella around would wreak havoc with him. He glanced at Mort where he stood at the end of the table with his back to the roaring fire and then at Rane, who was propped up against the wall near a window, looking for all the world as if he wasn’t at all tempted to look out of it or bothered by the storm that was still shaking the mansion. At least they had both fed recently. Although, that didn’t mean they would be on their best behaviour around Hella.

“You brought a female into the house. I thought that was a no-no?” Mort drawled as he sifted through a stack of papers, his hazel eyes fixed on them.

“My house. My rules.” Fenix strode towards Tiny, grabbed the final box and tipped the contents out onto the table. “Besides, she isn’t alone. I’m only going to warn you once that there’ll be no flirting, no attempted seductions, not even innocent looks at her. Break the rules and the wolf with her will probably break every bone in your body.”

The door opened and Hella strolled in, her blue hair twisted into a knot at the back of her head and a corseted black thigh-length dress accentuating her curves. Mort tensed, locked his eyes on the table and glared at it like he was trying to set it on fire with his mind. Rane flicked her a disinterested look.

Tiny blushed when he caught sight of her stripy black and white stockings.

Hella stopped beside Mort, leaned in close and sultrily breathed, “Oh, he’ll rip you apart like a chew toy, incubus.”

Mort swallowed hard.

“Hella,” Fenix chided and she sashayed her way along the length of the table on the opposite side to him. It was bad enough she had chosen to change her clothes for the occasion, picking something far too revealing. He didn’t need her provoking Mort and the others. He had the feeling she was trying to rebel, was punishing the wolf for something, but he was damned if his family were getting caught in the crossfire. “I have rules for you too. No teasing my family.”

Lightning shook the building, making the lights flicker, and Hella cast him a questioning look.

“Pest problem,” he muttered, using her words against her, and pushed a stack of books towards her. Papers stuck out of the yellowing pages of the leather-bound tomes, bowing their covers with the added thickness. “Anything you think might be useful, flag it for us. We can all speak fae and Mort knows his way around runes.”

Mort scrubbed the back of his blond hair when Hella looked at him, her eyebrows pinned high on her forehead and surprise glinting in her green eyes. It was unusual for incubi to know such a language, something normally reserved for those who could access magic. Fenix had never been able to get the reason why Mort knew runes out of him, and he doubted Hella would be able to succeed where he had failed. Mort had a tendency to play his cards close to his chest.

Fenix rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and felt Hella’s gaze on his right forearm. Without looking at her, he muttered, “Don’t ask. Unless you know ancient fae?”

When he glanced at her, she shook her head.

“There are probably a few in Lucia you could ask about that mark though.” She leafed through the first book, tossing some of the loose pages into an empty box and reserving others in a pile beside her. She also dog-eared pages in the book.

“Lucia? That where your nymph boyfriend is? Does he know the language?” He weathered her mock-scowl and held back his smile as she rolled her eyes when he added, “Oops, forgot you traded up. Furry is more your thing now.”

“MacKinnon isn’t my boyfriend, and neither is the nymph.” She moved to the next book, continuing before he could mention the fact MacKinnon was a local wolf pack from a small area near Glen Coe and now that he knew the male’s name, he suspected he was their alpha. “And nymphs aren’t the only breed in Lucia.”

“I know. Sirens live there too.” He set aside a stack of pages that only had diagrams scribbled on them.

Hella rocked his world on its axis.

“Sirens won’t be able to help with translating that mark, but the seelie might.”

“The seelie?” His gaze snapped to her and he bit out a ripe curse. “I’ve been trying to track an unseelie. I didn’t go to Lucia because I thought it was only home to—damn it.”

“Why do you think few people who go there come back?” She scoffed. “It’s not the nymphs and the sirens killing or capturing them.” Her voice lowered to a faint mutter. “Although the bastard nymphs do love taking captives.”

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