Page 13 of Accidentally Summoned an Incubus

“Ouch!” A sharp pain seared through the top of my hand, and I instinctively pulled it into my chest, rubbing the red welt furiously with my other hand.

The handle of a broom that wasn’t there a split second ago waved furiously at me from her side. I reckoned if I took another step, the magicked broom would undoubtedly beat me to within an inch of my life.

“Oh, now you want to be onmy side?” she called to the house, swatting the broom away. The broom simply dodged each of her swats before dashing over to the corner and idly brushing the same spot in slow, laborious swirls.

“Look,” she said, pulling her narrowed gaze from the broom to look directly at me. “I know it’s not your fault this house summoned you. And I know you can’t go back now. But let’s get a few things straight. I didn’t want to summon you here. I have some very important things to do over the next few days, and then we can figure out what to do with you. Until then, there will be no touching of any kind, unless it’s a mutual decision.”

“What if you fall down a well and are unconscious? Can I touch you then to rescue you?”

She glared at me, though her attempt at annoyance didn’t settle fully on her features.

“You’re the one that wanted to discuss boundaries!” I chided.

Ignoring my comment, though with somewhat more softness to her tone, she continued, “We’ll be sleeping in separate rooms.”

“What, no sleepovers? But I wanted to braid your hair,” I said, my voice sultry. I couldn’t seem to help myself. I wasn’t usually a tit-for-tat kind of demon, but there was something about this witch that made me want totathertit. And if she didn’t want to be swept off her feet in an all-consuming romance with her fated mate, then I guessed friendship it would be. Friends-to-lovers was a romance trope, right?

Now I wished I’d paid more attention to Devlin when he gushed about his latest romance read.

Rolling her eyes, she said, “Let’s be clear. I didn’t mean for this to happen. Let’s just respect each other’s boundaries, and while we’re figuring out what to do...” She trailed off, and a moment later, said through gritted teeth, “We can get to know one another.”

Getting to know one another wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but it wasn’t an out-and-out rejection, which I guessed was something.

She looked at me, her brow raising in a did-you-get-all-that gesture.

“NoMword. No touching. Separate rooms. Become besties.” I ticked each one off with a finger, and she rolled her eyes again. “So, if you didn’t summon me to give you the best orgasm of your life, what do you want to do?”

Her face softened, as if she hadn’t thought that far ahead. Finally, she said, “Want a cup of tea?”

Chapter 7. Lex

The seat creaked under Lochran’s weight as he settled down at the cluttered table. The house magicked away the dusty books from the space in front of him and stacked them on a shelf at the far side of the room. The kettle whistled merrily as I pulled two floral teacups off their hooks and set them in front of me.

“What kind of tea do you want?” I asked, opening the cupboard and glancing at all the labels. My hand automatically grasped for my favorite blend. Remembering what happened the last time I had cinnamon and clove tea, I instead opted for the lavender blend.

“English breakfast,” Lochran said as his head whipped from side to side, examining the kitchen. “One sugar, a drop of milk.” A silver sugar bowl appeared in front of me, as did a ceramic jug of fresh milk. I poured the hot water into the cups and turned to face the demon while I waited for the tea to brew. He’d removed the leather jacket, and my first thought wasI need those huge arms around me. Now.

His nostrils flared and a slight grin twitched at his lips, but he remained focused on examining the kitchen.

“Nice place you’ve got here.”

“There’s no need to be sarcastic,” I snapped back at him. While the house was ancient and filled with all sorts of crap, there was an unusual charm about it. Despite its treacherous ways, there was something deeply endearing about the house, and I felt a strange protectiveness over its crooked walls and copper worktops.

“I wasn’t being sarcastic, witch. I meant it. I feel like I could explore this place for days and still not have seen even half of what it has to offer.”

His answer seemed to please the house, for the broom swept its way over to him and tentatively leaned over his shoulder as if examining the welt it had given him earlier. Lochran reached his shovel-like hand behind him. With more gentleness than I thought possible for a demon his size, he crooked a finger and tickled the handle. The broom quivered, butting its handle further into the demon’s touch.

“Traitor,” I whispered to the house.

In response, the broom, as if breaking from its trance, zoomed off to the corner and began idly sweeping up once more.

After a few moments of awkward silence, I dropped a splash of milk into Lochran’s cup and brought the tea over, pushing his across the table to him. He took a sip and said, “Not as good as they make it in England, witch. But it’ll do.”

I had an uncontrollable urge to kick his shins under the table.Imagine!Telling a witch that someoneelsemade tea better thanthem! I mean, there might be an argument that British witchesdidmake better tea than the American witches, but it was afaux pasto point it out.

As I took a deep breath to restrain myself from physical assault, his eyes drifted down and landed on my notebook. “Oh, someone’s been a naughty little witch,” he said, reaching a hand out.

I was quicker. I pulled my notebook out of his grasp, causing a malevolent smile to cross his lips. “And here I was, thinking a little goody-two-shoes had summoned me. I do like a little wicked on the side.”

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