Page 100 of Oh No! There's an Incubus in my Hot Spring
“What about the curse keeping you here?” I ask.
He plants another tender kiss on my lips. “Our bond has solidified my soul’s place in this body.”
“And the gem in the control room?”
His eyes shimmer with unnatural teal light and he seems far away for a moment. “It welcomes my presence, but it is once again a thing of the wilds. Pure magic ready to be harnessed by anyone willing to accept it.”
I smile. “So, the springs will truly be rejuvenating again? A place of healing?”
“Our place of healing.” He kisses me deeply until my head is swimming—and I remember I can’t breathe.
“I really need to blow my nose,” I say, then gasp for air.
He chuckles and kisses my cheek. “As my witch commands.”
He cradles me to his chest and pulls us up, shrinking his wings so he can fit in the space. He keeps me pressed against him, firmly still inside me, and walks down the dark tunnel back to a new reality.
twenty-six
Channel Nine Special
Apollo wakes me with drip coffee doctored to perfection and his very best attempt at a pancake. The butter makes it better. He vows to watch more ViewTube cooking classes and try again soon.
When I’m fed, he pounces, eager to make love to me again, and I’m eager to let him. Sex with Apollo isn’t him needing my energy anymore, and it’s definitely not him seeking his own pleasure—though he is finding it. Sex with Apollo is a connection to an otherworldly source, something eternal and glorious. I can see it in his eyes, and I hope he can see it in mine.
I shower and tame the top half of my hair into a double braid that meets at the back, and let the underside fluff wild and free. I get comfort clothes that still look nice, and apply some natural makeup. The mirror reflects someone that Business Me wouldn’t recognize. Someone happy.
I bound down the stairs to find human-looking Apollo waiting for me, dressed in slacks and a button-down shirt. We have three reservations today, but who knows how many walk-ins will show up on a Sunday.
“Ready?” I ask.
“More than,” he says, grabbing my hands. He kisses my knuckles and smiles. He looks happy, too, and my heart soars.
I’m his mate.
I’m his forever.
And he’s mine.
I lock up the apartment and do a quick survey of the parking lot to ensure all the strings and ribbons are still up. I’d wanted to do a concrete pour, but Turdleneck made that impossible with the limited time we had, so it’ll have to wait until next spring. I’m sure it’ll be fine.
We throw open the doors to the lobby and set out the welcome signs. Apollo and I film a quick video for social media with Charlie, declaring the doors are officially open. Our presence isn’thuge, but one of these days I’ll have a video go viral. Maybe that Gabe special will help.
Or the Channel Nine one…
I try not to let my mood sour. There are hours to go before that airs, and I’m sure it’ll be fine. Even if it’s not fine, it doesn’t matter. Any publicity is good publicity.
The first appointment shows up right on time. Mr. Saito—the sushi joint owner—has already signed his waiver, so I pass him the key to the private bath and wish him a relaxing time. Apollo straightens the curtains and fans a few magazines out on the sitting table.
And that’s how the first hour passes.
I get on social media and reply to comments, then check on my Boogle listing…and find several one-star reviews.
Anonymous writes:The place is dirty and the “theme” is cliché and appalling. The water isn’t even very hot, and it’s not mineral rich like Silver Mountain.
Bucky writes:The owner is a psychopath. Also, who charges $70 for an hour in a lukewarm spring? What a rip-off.
“It’s aprivatespring, and it’s a solid hundred and five, thank you,” I mumble, panning to the next one.
