Page 7

Chapter

Six

MERRI

G oosebumps pebbled my skin as cold winter air crept inside the drafty castle walls. Wait. Castle? A quick glance down at my body confirmed that I was, in fact, dressed as some sort of medieval lady-in-waiting. Or whatever I was supposed to be. I wasn’t well-versed enough in the timeframe to identify the details that might tell me where I fell in the castle’s pecking order.

The air smelled of woodsmoke and incense, a heavy sort of aroma obviously used to cover other, less appealing things. Glancing out the window, I took in the scene. A chilly, frost-coated morning greeted me, people milling about, dressed in garb I’d have been likely to see at a Renaissance Faire. Horse hooves clattered on stone, wagon wheels creaked, and the low murmur of conversations filtered around me.

Where the fuck was I?

A door creaked open to my left, and I spun in that direction. A startled laugh pulled from me at the sight of a very distracted Malice garbed in some sort of tunic and hose. I think maybe the jacket thing was called a doublet? And I had no word at all for the puffy short pants.

“What are you wearing?” I asked, unable to keep the giggles at bay.

His violet eyes locked on me, at first angry, then softening to something I’d never seen from him before.

“What are you wearing?”

Oh, dear. Why was he speaking in French, and why could I understand him?

His brows furrowed as he assessed me. “Why aren’t you dressed for the lecture?”

Lecture? I felt like I was in some sort of play but hadn’t received my script. What was going on right now?

The answer floated through my mind, there and gone before I had a chance to latch onto it.

Malice strode across the room, shocking me when he slid his palm around the back of my neck and pulled me to him.

“Do you think we were successful, ma petite ?” he asked, his lips brushing my ear, the sensation making me shudder in pleasure.

“With what?”

He laughed, full and carefree, and I was struck by the sight. I’d already known Malice was hot; I could have been blind and known that much. But he was always so weighed down by the tragedy of his past. I’d never seen him truly happy before. It was stunning. Like beams of sunlight bursting through the clouds after a storm.

His other hand pressed to my middle as he brought his lips to mine. Then he pulled back and whispered, “I think we were.”

Oh my gawd. My whole body lit up. Did I have an undiscovered breeding kink?

“Perhaps,” I murmured, unsure what else to say.

“And if we weren’t, we’ll simply have to try again.” He nibbled at my neck, his short beard tickling me in the most delightful way before his arms tightened around me and he sighed. “I’d suggest right now, but we’re already behind schedule.”

I leaned into him, giving myself over to the wildest dream my subconscious had ever crafted before reaching around and cupping his most excellent ass, even through the fabric of his ridiculous pantaloon things. “I think we can be fashionably late. It won’t take too long to make sure your efforts aren’t wasted.”

A low growl of frustration left him. “I have wondered many times if you might be a witch, my sweet Merri. Now I know it’s the truth.”

Uh-oh. I may not be a historian, but I’d watched Outlander. I knew what happened to witches, and it was never anything good.

“Am not.”

He chuckled. “Are so. But don’t worry, that simply makes you my most perfect bride. Pestilence and his wicked little witch.”

Okay, so he was French but still a horseman. Good to know. Did that mean I was still a succubus?

I reached for my power, sending out a few tendrils of lust to see if I could get us back to the fake baby making.

“Mmm, you are playing with fire, ma femme.” His words were more tortured groan than anything, and he rocked his hips in response.

“Take those off so I can feel you... my lord.” What? I was trying it on for size. When in Rome. Er... France?

He began tugging at the laces of my bodice, lips trailing over the swells of my breasts as he worked to help me out of this getup. Oh fuck. I really wanted him to touch me right now. I craved his caresses and tender affection.

“Merde, one day they will figure out how to make undressing simpler.”

I snickered. “You could always just toss my skirt over my head.”

“Tempting.” He palmed my ass through my voluminous skirts and gave it a squeeze. “But I wish to gaze at your entire beautiful body, ma chérie . You are a gift. I want to tuck you into the space between my heartbeats so you never have to doubt that it beats only for you.”

Jee-zus. When did Malice get so swoony?

“I’m sorry. Are you... in love with me or something?”

He laughed and fucking nuzzled my neck. “But of course, mon petit chat d'enfer .”

Did he just call me his little demon cat? Seriously. When did I learn French?

All of a sudden a lightbulb went off in my mind. I didn’t know French. Malice did. This wasn’t my dream. It was his.

What the actual fuck.

I sat up in my bed with a gasp. My breasts ached for his touch, and my body hummed from the memory of his lips on my skin and the sweetness in his words. Disappointment rushed in like the tide when I realized I’d broken free of the beautiful dream and was never going to get to see that side of Malice again. The only comfort I had was knowing he had that side at all.

If it was his dream, then those were his actual words and subconscious desires.

But how was any of what just happened even possible? I shouldn’t be able to just waltz into someone else’s dream. Was this some side effect of the mental acrobatics he put me through this afternoon?

I’d never been in another person’s subconscious while they were asleep. But I could feel the small bit of sexual energy from the brief interlude as it nourished me. Just a taste. A light snack, if you will. Everything about the dream burned brightly in my memory. How his touch had felt, the taste of him, the way the castle smelled, the cold air. This hadn’t been a shared fantasy, and the details weren’t fading from my mind the way dreams usually do. I’d been there. Really there.

Was this something I could do? A fucking succubus superpower?

In moments, my computer was powered on and I had a search engine running. I simply typed in succubus, and my God, there was a lot of shit to wade through.

Some of it was expected. Female demons who feed off their partner’s sexual energy.

Bo-ring.

But when I dug a little deeper, there was a wealth of information I’d never heard of before. Some of it was clearly bullshit. Like that our bodies were scaled and we had wings like a gargoyle or horns like a goat. Other details were steeped in truth, though they might miss the mark or be slightly exaggerated. Like that we hypnotized our prey and could enslave them. I mean, maybe I could do that. I wasn’t actually sure. It’s not like I’d ever tried.

And then there was my favorite. The articles that said we were a myth created to excuse infidelity. Ha! There was no excuse for that, succubus or not.

I scanned an article about succubus and incubus lore, skimming the details about impregnation and demonic behavior until I found what I needed. Dreamwalking. I added the new term to my search, and bingo! There it was. Over and over again, page after page, references to my kind visiting mortals in their dreams and awakening all sorts of sexual desires.

It was brought up too many times not to have a kernel of truth to it, and I’d clearly just experienced it. So why had Lilith never mentioned this to me before?

The best way to answer that question was to simply ask her. Pulling my phone off the charger, I dialed her number. It rang until her voicemail picked up, and I rolled my eyes. Who knew what my aunt was up to?

“You’ve reached the voicemail for your very own fairy sex mother. Unfortunately, I’m tied up . . . or rather, have someone tied up at the moment. Leave me a message, and I’ll call you back—if you’re a good little poppet.”

“Auntie Lilith, it’s me. Listen, I need your help with something. Uh, I think I just dreamwalked? Is that a thing? Have you ever heard of that before? It was weird and also felt so good. What does it mean? Is this something I can use to help me? Call me back.”

After I ended the call, I sat at my desk for another minute, my fingertips drumming out a mindless beat on my thigh as all my unanswered questions danced in my mind.

The internet was only going to get me so far. It’s not exactly like there was a trustworthy source of information available. Supernaturals were way too protective of their secrets to post something humans could find and use against them. So the only way I was going to get any answers was Lilith.

Unless . . .

Maybe I test the theory myself? See if I can make it happen on purpose this time.

As the idea took hold, excitement swelled within me.

“We’d need a good test subject,” I murmured, standing and starting to pace. “Malice is out because there’s no way to know if our connection is due to his lesson or my ability. And if it works with Sin, then that might just be because we’re the same. I need someone else. Someone who I don’t share any sort of link with.”

Chaos’s handsome, grumpy face appeared in my mind, a thrill rushing through me at the possibility. I wondered if I needed to be asleep for this to work or if I could simply choose to join him? It stood to reason that I’d be able to walk right in if this was how succubi typically fed. How else could we make our decisions and pick our targets?

Laying on the bed, I closed my eyes and pictured my angry warrior in all his broody glory. His scent, the warmth of his skin, the way his bearded jaw brushed my face when he kissed me. And then it was there, the path I needed to find him. I didn’t know how I knew it was true. I just did. Chaos was deep in a dream, and all I had to do was go to him. I took one step down the path and appeared on a warm, sun-drenched balcony. He stood there, facing away from me as he stared out at pristine blue water.

He turned his head, his skin bronzed by the sun and glistening in the light, hair longer than I’d ever seen it, eyes blazing with desire as soon as they lit on me.

He stared at me, passion crackling between us as he said, “I’ve been waiting for you.”