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CAM

I could feel the energy in the air, electric and teasing. I could practically smell it, wafting off of the couples on the dance floor. It didn’t make my mouth water, but I still felt a hunger building inside of me.

How long had it been since I’d actually fed?

I closed my eyes as I tried to think. My feeder had come over a week ago, and since then, it had been scraps like this. And I needed another hit, another few scraps to keep me going.

Feeding like this wasn’t my favorite way. It was watered down. It was the incubus equivalent of a meal replacement shake. Didn’t really do much of anything beyond keep me going until my next real meal. I needed to schedule that soon.

I needed to focus now.

I closed my eyes and searched the small tendrils of energy radiating through the party. I knew if I opened my eyes right now, what I was doing would be obvious to anyone who cared to look. Maybe it was obvious even with my eyes shut. I weighed each energy as it came toward me, looking for the strongest, the most powerful.

I found it.

Someone must have been doing more than just lusting after their partner at this party. Thank goodness, because otherwise this would be more like water with a half scoop of protein powder instead of a protein shake.

I found the thread and tasted. Lust coursed through me: cinnamon hot and warm like cocoa. Whoever this couple was, they were familiar to each other. There were actual feelings. When it was strangers, it tasted different. This one tasted like infatuation, a crush or a new relationship maybe. I felt the energy course through my veins and then I released. I didn’t want to take too much. I never wanted to take too much.

I was still hungry. I found another string and tasted. It was more bitter, a sour lemonade without enough sweetness to cut through. Whoever this couple was didn’t actually like one another. I wondered if they were on the verge of breaking up or some of those people that liked hate sex a bit too much. I took a bit before I released.

Two more strings, two different flavors, and I opened my eyes. I had more energy now, but it wasn’t enough to sate me like a real feeding. I couldn’t keep surviving on appetizers.

I pulled out my phone and sent a text to my feeder, Ryder, asking him when he wanted to meet again.

He hadn’t replied by the time I left the party an hour later.

The next morning, I was exhausted. I felt like I was trudging through quicksand as I made my way across the Creelin University campus to my first class. I waved halfheartedly to a few friends as I passed, but I didn’t stop to chat. Normally, I would have. Even after a small feeding like the night before, I wouldn’t usually feel like this.

Drained. Dead on my feet.

I wished I had another opportunity to feed during the day. I pulled out my phone and went back to the text thread with Ryder. Still no answer.

I could practically hear my mother in my head, telling me to have more than one feeder for times like this. I groaned and finished the too long walk to my first class: Monster History.

Normally, it was one of my favorite classes. That day, I couldn’t focus. The words sounded like they were coming through a box fan, muffled and skewed and hard to understand. I looked around the class. No one else seemed to have the same problem I was having with focus. Maybe I’d just stayed out too late. Maybe this wasn’t an incubus related crisis, but a more simple one. I had stayed at the party later than I planned.

“You okay?” a quiet whisper sounded next to me.

I looked over at the girl next to me, a human named Mallory who never made her attraction to me secret. Her green eyes were filled with concern, something else she apparently couldn’t hide that morning. I offered a small smile. “Tired,” I whispered back. “Think I stayed out too late.”

“Want me to send you the notes after class?”

“You’re my hero. I’ll buy you a coffee or lunch or something?”

“I think you’re the one that needs a coffee.” There was a pause before she spoke again. “Wait, do you drink coffee?”

“Yes. I actually drink too much coffee.” Maybe that was the problem. I was out of coffee. I’d have to get some before my next class. Maybe it would help keep me awake, fight off some of the bone deep exhaustion I felt that morning.

It didn’t.

Mallory and I went to the on campus coffee shop immediately after class, and I ordered the strongest coffee they had on the menu. Nothing. Not even the smallest boost in my energy. I barely managed to stay awake for the rest of my classes, and I strongly considered skipping newspaper that afternoon. What would be the point in going if all I did was fall asleep once I got there?

I couldn’t bring myself to skip. I was one of the few non-journalism majors writing for the student paper, and I didn’t want to lose that.

I could just go and pretend that everything was okay, that I wasn’t on the brink of passing out. I could pretend to pay attention, the same way I had all day. I could stop myself from checking for messages from Ryder setting up our next feeding session. If I got desperate, I could always go back to the dorm and walk around the hallways until I found something to feed myself on, no matter how faint and watered down it was.

In the end, I didn’t have to wait.

On the way to newspaper, I felt it. The magnetic pull of the energy I craved. I was a moth drawn to the flame, following it to its source. There was a young couple making out in an alcove. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel where it got stronger, could taste what they were doing. I drew the energy in, and it did what the coffee couldn’t. Gave me the boost of energy I’d been so desperate for all day. It wasn’t enough, but I wasn’t going to complain.

It was cotton candy sweet with a fuller undertone that I recognized from people who were sneaking. Forbidden love—or forbidden lust in this case—was one of my favorite flavors. I drew enough to recharge me before releasing my hold on the energy radiating off of them, and then I found my way to the journalism building.

I’d like to say there was finally pep in my step after that small snack, but I’d be lying. The small hit hadn’t filled me, just gave me enough to keep going. I really needed to get a real meal. I pulled out my phone and typed a new message to Ryder as I entered the journalism building.

The small boost of energy I’d gotten from the out of sight couple lasted maybe twenty minutes. Either it hadn’t been enough or the editor of the paper was just that boring as he handed out assignments. The same people got the good assignments—upper classmen, mainly monsters—while underclassmen and humans got the fluff pieces. I was assigned a story about upcoming student elections in freshman dorms.

Talk about boring.

“It’s better than mine,” Penn Leroy, a fellow journalist in my year, muttered when I complained to him.

“What did you get again?” I, regrettably, had not been paying attention.

“On-campus parking.”

I scrunched my nose and he laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, you’re right. Freshman dorm politics are a lot more interesting than on-campus parking. What is there to cover there?”

“No idea, but if the story was assigned, then that must mean there’s a story there.” I admired Penn’s optimism. It wasn’t realistic, but I admired it nonetheless. He seemed to notice the lack of enthusiasm on my face and blanched. “Right?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a story.” I resisted the urge to pat him on the shoulder. I’d been told on numerous occasions that things like that came across as condescending, and as I really wanted to make friends on the newspaper staff, I figured that was probably not the greatest way to do it.

“And I’m sure you’ll find something interesting about freshman dorm politics.”

“Oh yeah,” I agreed with a laugh. “I cannot wait to hear about drama between people I don’t know and see how they manage to dredge up all of that in some dirty political power plays in order to choose who plans their floor’s social events.”

“There’s more to dorm politics than just social events for your floor,” Penn countered. I raised a skeptical brow at him. “I may have been on the dorm council at my old college.” He looked pensive for a moment. “This will be the first class that has humans and monsters from the jump. Maybe that can be your angle. How humans integrate into the dorm culture and if the monsters are willing to be led by them.”

“Okay, are you some kind of journalistic genius?” I asked, genuinely impressed. Because I probably would’ve just done an interview with different candidates, and he’d somehow gone and made the story more interesting. He must have some kind of magic. “Are you sure you’re fully human? Not some kind of journalism wizard?”

“100% human,” he teased. “If I were a journalism wizard, I’d be able to figure out an interesting take on the parking story.”

That was fair. But then, I didn’t think there were any interesting takes on parking. “Compare parking permit passes from last year to this year? See if there’s more demand for parking now that we have humans on campus?”

“Because humans drive more than monsters?”

“No, because there are more students on campus this year than there were last year. More students mean more demand for parking.”

Penn cocked his head in thought, running his long, thin fingers through the blonde strands. “I guess it’s a place to start. I don’t think it’s going to be all that interesting.”

“Maybe you’ll find something better.” I doubted it. Not because my idea was this super amazing idea, but because there was really not much that you could do about parking. It was boring. “And then maybe if you do, you’ll get a better story next time?”

Penn sighed. “I doubt it. The good stories seem to always go to the monsters.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, and I didn’t think I had the energy even if I did have some perfect counter argument tucked away in my arsenal, so I didn’t say anything. A few minutes later, Penn wandered away to talk to someone else and I rested my head on the table.

I was ready to go back to my dorm.

By the time I made it back to Karloff Hall, I could barely hold my eyes open. I’d just barely managed to stay awake until newspaper ended. I went straight to my bedroom in the suite I shared with three other monsters without a word. As soon as I got to my bedroom and closed the door, I collapsed on the narrow twin size bed.

The sound of my phone ringing woke me up an hour later. I reached for my phone and hit accept before putting the call on speaker. “Hello?” I grumbled.

“Cam?” My sister’s voice was bubbly on the other line. “Were you sleeping ?”

“I was taking a nap,” I answered. “What do you need, Christa?”

“I wanted to see how you were doing.” Even exhausted, I could hear the concern in her voice. I let out a grunt, encouraging her to say whatever was on her mind. “I was talking to Ever, and he said that you looked like you were falling asleep in newspaper.”

“Are you spying on me through my editor?”

“No, but I am friends with him. Which means that sometimes we talk, and sometimes you come up in conversation.”

“I’m just tired. I’ve been tired all day.”

“Have you fed lately?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

It also wasn’t enough of the truth for Christa to not question. Or maybe I was so tired that she could tell the truth. “I mean a real feeding. With a feeder? Not just munching on the energy equivalent of potato chips throughout the day.”

“It’s been a few days, but I’m planning a session with Ryder soon.”

“When?”

When he got back to me.

When he answered my texts.

I couldn’t tell my somewhat overprotective sister that. She’d hunt Ryder down and demand to know why he wasn’t answering me.

“Soon.”

“Is he having a hard time? You know you should—”

“I know,” I cut her off. “I know you think I should have more than one feeder. I know Mom and Dad think I should have more than one feeder. I just—I don’t want to use more than one feeder right now.”

Feeding was personal. I didn’t want to get that vulnerable with a bunch of people. It was easier for me to feed on someone I knew and trusted. It was more filling too. My energy lasted longer when I knew my feeder, when I felt some kind of bond with them. I’d explained that to my family so many times, but they never seemed to understand.

Christa sighed and then began questioning me about other parts of my day. By the time we got off the phone, my eyes were heavy again.

When we hung up, I started to fall asleep. My phone chimed just as my eyes drifted shut.

I grabbed the phone and looked down at the incoming message.

Ryder: Hey, sorry I missed you earlier. Can we talk? Cam: yeah, when? Ryder: I can come over tomorrow after class.

I sent Ryder a thumbs up emoji. One more day and I could get a proper feeding session in.

I closed my eyes, followed a few strands of energy, and drew in enough to get me through the rest of the night.