Page 7 of Devour

Oh, his god, from devout to devoured. This just got even more interesting. I smiled to reassure him before I said, “Understood.”

“I should… probably leave now. Thanks again, Rhory.” Eli stood and for a moment, various parting gestures flickered across his mind. What level of contact conveyed appreciation while still being appropriate? He settled for a half-smile and wave before heading down the stairs and leaving.

My twenty-second birthday followed Asher’s party by only a few weeks. After the mess at his twenty-first birthday bash, I most certainly did not want to go out drinking for mine. Nor did I want something elaborate, either. Dinner with friends had been my choice, and thankfully, I still had friends to come along. Ember claimed she forgave me, which seemed odd to me in hindsight when I recalled what Rhory said. What was there for her to forgive? And why did I have to be the one to apologize? I didn’t do anything.

If anyone owed someone an apology, Asher should be the one to apologize to me—if not for drunkenly making out with a friend, then at least for blaming me entirely for it. And he absolutely did. Which went beyond bizarre and bordered on ridiculous. Instead of further arguing, I carried the burden of blame, and we all moved on.

Rhory popped up a few times since then also, usually somewhere off campus—but not always. He seemed to… get around. I wasn’t going to judge, though. Not for that much, at least. Honestly, I doubted Rhory could take anything seriously and I, admittedly, took everything seriously. Half of me had no patience for Rhory’s antics, while the other half argued I should be polite. Especially to someone who had always been exceptionally decent to me, even if that someone proved himself to be exceptionally annoying as well.

Before I could enjoy my evening, I spent my afternoon in the library working on one of my major projects of the semester. The afternoon sun shone through the many windows and warmed the table. While immersed in my work, the metallic drag of jewelry sliding across the table disrupted my concentration. I looked up to see Rhory, one arm holding the other and his head resting on the wooden tabletop, staring right at me.

“Afternoon, hubby.”

“Afternoon, Rhory,” I grumbled. I told him repeatedly not to call me that, but he only began using it even more, likely to get a rise out of me. I gave up. Or maybe I should say I gave in. With any luck, he’d stop once he realized he would no longer get a reaction.

Rhory had let the red in his hair fade over the last few weeks and now sported a pale pink. It suited him. The layered chains around his neck bumped against the tabletop, making the metallic sound again. One necklace had a crucifix and the irony of seeing Rhory wearing a cross was not lost on me. He was many things, but devout wasn’t among those.

“We still going out tonight, hubs?”

“You say that as if I’m going out with you,” I huffed to myself. When he didn’t try to argue, I answered him. “Yes, Asher and Ember are meeting us for dinner.”

Rhory hummed and started lifting the surrounding books to examine the titles. He pouted at a particular one before setting the thick book back down. “Can’t believe you spend so much time on this nonsense.”

“Excuse me, this nonsense happens to be my area of study.” And after graduation, where I went from there remained undecided.

Rhory rolled his eyes at my objection.

“Seems hypocritical to judge me when—”

“When what?” His scalding gaze fixed on me and evaporated the rest of my sentence. “Besides, I’m not judging you. I’m judging this,” he said while sweeping his hand at the demonology book. “Don’t believe everything you read.”

“Many people misinterpret the Bible and religions as a whole.” On this subject, we weren’t arguing but agreeing. “A lot got lost or changed in translation, you know.”

“Such as?” Rhory leaned over, unabashedly reading my notes this time. No shame, this guy. Almost admirable. Almost.

“Such as, the stance on homosexuality. Soldiers occupying the area were known for grooming boys. The original version of the scripture disapproved of that, not of relationships between two consenting adults. Translators intentionally changed the meaning to fit their ideals, not convey what was originally written.”

“Interesting,” Rhory agreed. “My turn to tell you something.”

“Be my guest. Lecture me on my major,” I teased, cleaning up my mess of materials and putting everything back into my bag.

“Where does the word ‘incubus’ come from?”

“Easy. Incubo, meaning nightmare.”

Rhory made a buzzing sound and crossed his hands to imply I was incorrect, which I wasn’t. “Incubare, meaning to lie on. Similarly, succubare means ‘to lie under’ and is the root word for succubus.”

“Latin major?” I guessed.

Rhory shrugged.

“And your point here would be?”

“Who says incubi must all be tops?” His wide smile reappeared, the one that flashed his canines at me. He must have gotten those filed or something because I’d never met anyone with such a defined pair.

“You’re ridiculous,” I chuckled.

“Think about it, though. All incubi are male but strictly come to women? Right. Because the only thing more horrific than demon bottoms would be a man getting banged by a male demon. Of course, beings with no human ideology are all straight and every single one adheres to the conventions of their implied gender. Makes perfect sense.”

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