Page 49 of Signed in Incubus

At first, I was surprised that Prax was able to hold his own in a lot of the conversations, especially when it got into the nitty gritty historical details. But then I realized that he had an advantage since what some of these collectors viewed as ancient history had just, in fact, been Prax’s life.

He had one sizable knowledge gap from the Victorian era to about now, which coincided with the time he was forcefully bound to a wizard. The others just assumed that era wasn’t his specialty.

The event’s dress code had specified that monster forms were welcome, but many had chosen to take on human form or wear glamour spells. I’d gotten so used to seeing people walking around Darlington in their natural forms that it felt a little strange.

The food itself was decent, though as I’d expected, the dishes were more style than substance, which was par for the course at events like this. I was going to be hungry again later, but hey, that was what midnight snacks were for.

I kept discreetly looking around throughout the four-course meal, almost expecting something bad to happen, but nothing did. Technically, I still had the concealment spell running. Thisprobably explained why so many people barely acknowledged or talked to me, even though I was right there with my arm hooked through Prax’s. It was nice just to enjoy myself and not have to make small talk for once.

But my little bubble of invisibility was shattered at the door to the auction house.

“Sorry, but only basic glamour spells are allowed inside,” the doorman said, stopping us. “You’re going to have to remove all other forms of magical enchantments on your persons. Security reasons.”

“Oh, sure,” Prax said as his skin darkened and horns started to sprout from his head.

The doorman sputtered. “No! Not you, sir. Keep the human form, please. It makes guests from out of town more comfortable. I mean your date.” He turned to me. “Miss?”

“But she’s not—” Prax started.

“I think he means the concealment spell,” I murmured. “It’s okay. I understand.”

If I’d been wondering how well the spell worked, it didn’t take long for me to have my answer once I turned the spell off. In a bid to grow the event for the next year, the organizers had sent out as many press invites as they could, and it took all of thirty seconds for someone to ask, “Hey, is that Senator Davis’s daughter?” and another ten for someone else to say, “Yeah. Didn’t she just get left at the altar? Who’s that guy she’s with?”

Prax’s hand tightened in mine.

I was suddenly glad I’d taken the time to reapply my lipstick after dinner. Because right now, my makeup felt like armor, and Prax like my shield. He escorted me through the crowd and into the auction room, which had big signs that clearly stated no cameras or filming were allowed. I was sure they’d gotten a few snaps in before we made it inside, but now I felt relatively safe.

Once inside, we sat down, and I relaxed against his body.

“We don’t actually have to stick around, you know. The auction house takes care of everything regarding the sale, and I’m not planning on bidding on anything myself. I just wanted to check out the competition and see how things work. We can sneak out right now through the back, and no one will be the wiser.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I can find out what each item sold for tomorrow. Besides, I’m still hungry.”

I giggled. “That really wasn’t a lot of food. Pretty, yes, but not a lot of food. But I thought incubi only ate for fun. I didn’t know you guys got hungry.”

Prax turned his head, putting his lips right by the shell of my ear. “Food isn’t what I’m hungry for,” he whispered.

Something invisible slid under my skirt and snaked up my legs.

Oh!

“Unless you want me to do this right here.” The invisible limb continued up my leg.

I looked around as the guests started assembling. We weren’t going to be missing much.

I gave his hand a squeeze. “Let’s go.”

We waited until most of the guests with media badges and cameras were looking at something exciting, then hurried down the hall toward the front door. One of them, however, noticed us and followed.

By the time we were slipping out the revolving door, I was panting, and my heart was racing, but our camera-happy friend continued to follow as we ran through the parking lot, ducking behind cars and trucks and giggling like teenagers. The risk of possibly getting caught was thrilling, and my face was flushed by the time we managed to duck into an alleyway and finally lost him.

I panted in Prax’s arms as he grinned down at me, his eyes twinkling.

“That was wild,” I giggled. “Do you think he’ll be back?”

“Maybe. We should hide out for a while.” The alley was a clean one, and Prax led me farther in before climbing onto a balcony, hefting himself up easily, and holding out a hand for me.

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