Page 124 of Fake Fae-Ancée

Actually — and thank God! — we are only distantly related, Jonathan is only a seventh degree cousin or some such. Our family is huge, as is intrinsic to our species. A nasty saying about Succubi and Incubi goes that we are just like rabbits — very good at multiplying.

Mum has kept us away from the Pentangeli side of the family whenever possible. But whenever I have run into Jonathan at the few family gatherings that couldn't be avoided, I’ve always felt uncomfortable. Granted, I feel uncomfortable in the presence of most men. But one who has a reputation like my cousin's...

Now he is grinning, showing his fangs.

"Tell me, Mae, when is the last time you had sex?"

I actually gasp, blushing hard. "That’s none of your business."

Jonathan unblinkingly pulls out a shiny black smartphone and startes swiping.

"Lets see… ah, here. Exactly... seven years, seven days, five hours, and twenty-six minutes ago."

More heat shoots to my face, my oversized sweater feeling uncommonly tight all of a sudden. I cross my arms in front of my chest.

"If you know that already, why are you asking?"

Damn, has it really been that long?

"That's no healthy lifestyle for a Succubus," Jonathan says, holding out his phone. There is a whole profile of me there, probably my case file. Mae Amalia Chambers, it says. Age 26. An old photo of me, still in school uniform. Next to it is a date from seven years ago — I actually had forgotten the exact date when I had lost my V-card. My first, and one and only time ever. With my boyfriend, of course. It has not been bad. That’s not it.

"You're quite a nosy bunch," I bite out. Of course, I know the biodata of Succubi is being monitored. Seeing it on screen, however, is more than a little spooky. Along with this entire conversation.

"There should be a lot more times listed here," Jonathan says, sounding concerned. "Not just one single time. And do you see that?"

He points one long, perfect finger to a bar on the display. It looks like an energy bar in a video game. It is nearly empty, and what little is there to fill is colored in an alarming shade of red.

"That's your Anima, sweetie. And especially at your age, that bar should be full to the brim and green as a slushy."

I stare at the display. Somewhere in the back of my mind I have always suspected that my lifestyle isn’t healthy. Once coming of age, Succubi and Incubineedsex. It is our nourishment. Our Anima — our life energy — feeds of it. And I have basically been fasting for the last seven years.

"Your tank is running empty. Recently, you started feeling weak right? Dizzy, sometimes. And your glam has stopped working." Jonathan lowers hus phone, nodding at my headgear. "Hence that cute little hat, right?"

I give a tentative nod. No point in denying it. But I don’t like at all that he knows what’s been going on with me for the past few weeks.

"Don't get me wrong, the color suits you," Jonathan says. "What I don't understand is how someone as young and pretty and desirable as you spends her best years cooped up in a little backwater at the North Sea. You should be having the time of your life, hitting the clubs in Three Pines."

I look down at my hands.

Mum had always told me pretty much the same thing. She’d always wanted me to get a place in New Hamburg with my girlfriends. Move in with Polly or Marigold in the Three Pines party district. Spend my weekends getting dolled up andout there. Meet men. Her voice still rings in my ears.

"Because that's the only way you’ll find him, dear. The right one, I mean." She has always smiled when saying that. "You won’t find him here, in the middle of nowhere."

Mum — being totally normal herself, the Succubus traits of my family skipping a generation with her — had always been a firm believer in true love. In her world, even a Succubus like me could find her prince and ride into the sunset. She had always claimed that, even long after Dad had left. And I had always shaken my head and quickly changed the subject.

And then one day, Mum had died and I'd stayed here. And I, for my part, am totally fine with staying in with a book and a large pot of tea, and leave parties and orgies to other people.

And that is that.

"It's none of your business," I repeat, glad that SILVANUS doesn’t haveallthe data in their system.Thatparticular fact about me isn’t anything I want my inflated cousin to know about. Or anyone, for that matter.

Jonathan frowns like he wants to press on but then shrugs.

"Very well." He starts typing on his phone. Only a second later, my own phone buzzes.

"Please follow the link and install the app," Jonathan says.

"Why should I?"

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