Page 18 of Oh No! There's an Incubus in my Hot Spring
He titters, his hands massaging in comforting circles. “I can do both. However, I’m nearly out of magic, so neither will be possible soon.”
I realize he means that if I don’t let him pleasure me, I won’t be healed fully. I suppose I could still go to a doctor, but it does seem as if his magic is working. My tailbone feels better already.
“What do I need to give you?” I ask.
He massages deeper and his magic makes my muscles spasm. “Tell me of a happy moment.”
“That’s it?” I ask.
“In as much detail as possible.”
I huff. A happy memory. Okay…
“When I was twelve my mom and dad took me to the Grand Canyon. On the trip there, we sang songs off the radio, even though my dad sounded like a stuffed-up bassoon,” I say with a laugh, remembering the sound so clearly. “He had allergies. My mom always had a beautiful voice.”
“And you?” he asks.
“I mean, I guess. I was just a kid. I only sing by myself now,” I say, realizing just how sad that is.
“The Grand Canyon?” he prods, moving his hands up my spine to the base of my neck.
“It’s enormous, the biggest thing I’ve ever seen. A huge valley of colorful rocks that were carved away over centuries by the Colorado River. Reds, oranges, yellows, and, down at the verybottom, blues and greens. We set out a picnic blanket and watched the sunset.”
His fingers slide through my hair and massage my skull. I sigh heavily and relax into the blankets.
“The clouds were cast in pink and gold, little slips of navy and purple in the sky beyond. We had beef jerky and powdered donuts because our sandwich bag leaked and they got all soggy.” I laugh again, remembering how my mom nearly cried at the loss of the sandwiches. But Dad came in and saved it, running to a nearby vendor to get the jerky.
That was the last time I saw him happy. It was all downhill from there. I wonder if they both knew he was sick, and they took me on that trip as a final hurrah.
“What’s wrong, lovely?” the incubus asks.
“Nothing,” I say.
“You can’t lie to me; I can feel it.”
I roll away and sit up. There’s not even a remnant of pain in my butt, and my headache is abating quickly. “They were wrong to call you Asmodeus. You’re more like Apollo.”
He cocks his head, a strand of silky silver hair falling over his face. “Who is that?”
“One of the old Greek gods. He heals people,” I say. “Among other things.”
He smiles demurely. “I see. Do you like that name?”
“It’s a little archaic,” I say. “Do you like it?”
His icy eyes glow as he looks at me. “I would like you calling me a god.”
I can’t hold back my surprised laugh. Bastard is trying to flirt with me.
“All right, Apollo,” I say, emphasizing his name.
The swirling tattoos light up along his arms and shimmer down his body. He groans and closes his eyes. “Yes, I like that very much.”
My phone dings and my eyes dart to the lit-up screen. Four calls, ten messages. Shit, I forgot to text my mom.
I pick it up and open the messaging app. Not all the texts are from her. Five of them are from a new number, and they have an attachment. I scowl, opening the new messages.
Syl, please. I miss you so much.
