Page 13 of Incubus

His gaze suddenly sharpened on a point behind me, and he stared at the filigreed inlay on the mantle above the massive fireplace. Moving more quickly than I thought was possible for someone his age, he assiduously whipped out a polishing cloth from within his staid butler’s suit and began wiping the marble and metal with a vengeance, though I failed to see one speck of dirt from where I sat.

“These are really something, Bart.” I relished the honeyed warmth of the scones. It seemed like days since I’d last eaten, and I enjoyed every bite as I reclined into the fainting couch.

“Thank you, madam.”

When thoroughly engaged in his mission to rid the mantle of even the hint of grime, he asked, “Perhaps when you are finished with your meal, you will be prepared for Master Roth?”

My mouth was full of scone. “Prepared for what, Bart?”

He stopped his furious cleaning to glance over his shoulder at me, the blush once again creeping into his pale cheeks. He cleared his throat softly. “Well, madam. For his…attentions.”

“Attentions?” I almost blew the scone out of my mouth as I sat up straight. “You think I’m here to-to-to—” I began sputtering and couldn’t seem to stop.

He dropped his polishing cloth, his skin going from pink to bright red. “He’s with Corinne right now, and I believe she’s the one who put in the request for a new assistant,” he said the last word as if it were in air quotes. “Was it she with whom you spoke? I can fetch her as soon as she’s finished.” He was ever trying to be the helpful butler.

“Finished with what?” I was certain I already knew the answer. The stab of hurt that went through me was out of place. I reminded myself this kind of behavior was par for the course when it came to males. Roth was doing what men did whenever I was around—getting busy with some random chick right under my nose. I didn’t understand the envy that cut through me when I imagined him with someone else. I’d only just met the creep, after all. I fought against the emotion. Why should I care if he bedded the entire city? He probably already had. He was an incubus, after all. I refocused on my mission, realizing any feelings of jealousy I might have had were inconsequential compared to my need to return home.

Bart was still looking for what was most likely a very delicate way of explaining whatever Roth was up to or into, whatever the case might be. “Never mind about that, Bart. Would you mind if I looked around on my own for a bit?”

He practically collapsed with relief, kneeling down to retrieve the dropped cloth and continuing his war on grime. “Yes, madam. That would be fine. We have some wonderful artwork throughout both wings on each side of the home. The east wing is far more classical, while the west is somewhat modern to postmodern. The upper floor has more sculpture and artifacts.”

I rose from the couch, satisfied from Bart’s delicious meal and ready to explore. Wandering down the central hallway, I once again admired the lavish furniture and art. Every so often I had to bat away thoughts of what or who Roth was doing upstairs.

After spending more than a little time in the more modern wing, enjoying the manga covers, abstract nudes, and dot-matrix pieces that covered the walls, I ascended the stairs to the second level. When I got to the landing, a statue of Aphrodite bathing in the sea confronted me. The carefully carved face, which was as lovely as the goddess was rumored to be, seemed to lock me in a withering gaze. Sheesh.

I ambled through a corridor hung with rich tapestries and lightly glowing sconces. There were several smaller sculptures here, some of ballerinas, others of shrouded figures at prayer or mourning. It was an interesting mix—metal, marble, and plaster works. Doors punctuated the space at intervals; otherwise the entire hallway was an art gallery. At the end, double doors beckoned. I edged closer, noting that a hand-carved scene of Apollo chasing Daphne graced the sturdy wood panels. They were ajar, and I thought I heard noises within.

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