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CAM

Energy coursed through my veins as I collapsed back onto my dorm bed. The small room smelled like sex and sweat. Ryder laid beside me, panting. His toned body shimmered with sweat, and he had that same look on his face that I’d come to know over the years he’d been my feeder. It was a goofy grin, filled with satisfaction and the slightest hint of fatigue. I knew I didn’t pull too much. I’d been feeding from him long enough to know how much energy I could siphon before it could be dangerous.

Just like I knew how much energy I could siphon from couples at parties or around campus without them even noticing.

I knew it would take time for him to come back down, for us to talk about whatever it was that he needed to talk about.

I’d wanted to talk about it before our feeding session, but he’d taken a single look at me and insisted we do this first. Unfortunately, it meant that we would have to wait awhile. There was a benefit to humans who let incubi and succubi feed off of them. Ryder had once said that he felt high after we fed. He described it as a combination as the time he took ecstasy in high school and the pot he used to smoke under the bleachers. I didn’t really understand how that felt to him, but he said it was great.

Christa said that one of her feeders said it felt more like cocaine. She stopped feeding off of him after that stray comment, replaced him with another willing human who didn’t have such an extensive knowledge of drugs. She claimed that it made her uneasy, the knowledge that one of her feeders might come to her compromised, unable to fully consent or express if she was taking too much.

I stripped off the condom and tied the end, tossing it into the small plastic trash can by the side of my bed. Ryder curled into me, that same smile still on his face. His eyes were a little brighter than they’d been moments later. I ran my fingers through his dirty blonde hair, traced them over his full lips, and planted a gentle kiss on his sweat slick forehead. “You good?” I asked softly.

“‘m good,” he confirmed. “Need a few minutes.”

I nodded. Ryder wasn’t a big talker in the moments after a feeding. He said that he felt too vulnerable, that all he needed in those moments was to lay next to me until it passed. He needed the quiet, to rest with the buzz or whatever it was. I wondered if the supernatural scientists had a word for it, if there had been enough study of incubi feeding to have real words for it. Sometimes, I thought about asking one of my teachers, but I didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that I was taking small bits of energy from people around campus.

There would probably be some qualms about the morality of that, even though I knew they didn’t get the same effect as someone who had a direct feeding. Ryder and I had tested it when we were younger, when I first started needing to feed regularly.

Thirty minutes passed in silence, just the sound of our breathing mingling in my dorm and the heat of his naked body beside mine, the feeling of his soft hair as it brushed against me and under my fingertips. While it had never been romantic between us, I loved the softness of these moments. It was the kind of intimacy I always craved—in a very different way than I craved sexual energy. It sustained a different part of me, a part that was entirely human.

“I think I’m good now,” Ryder spoke up, breaking the silence. He shifted away from me, turning onto his side.

“Yeah?” I asked, pulling my hand away from his hair. The spell of intimacy was broken, and I was looking into the familiar hazel eyes of one of my best friends. “You think you’re ready to talk about whatever you wanted to talk about?”

He took a deep sigh and looked down at our naked bodies in the bed. “I think we need to get dressed before we have this conversation.”

That was ominous.

We climbed out of the bed and got dressed. Ryder sat down on the dorm issue desk chair, and I took a seat back on my bed, curling my legs up to my body. “We’re dressed.”

“We are.”

The silence that fell between us was different than the silence that we’d shared earlier. It wasn’t peaceful or intimate. It was awkward, and every second of it seemed to span an eternity. One of us had to break it, and it didn’t look like Ryder was going to be the one to take the leap. “So, what did you need to talk about?”

Ryder rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick he’d developed in middle school. “I applied for a semester abroad in England. I didn’t think I’d get it, but my mom was really excited when my professor suggested it. The history there…” He trailed off. His hands settled in his lap, and I watched as he picked at the cuticle on his thumb.

I already knew where this was going.

“And you got in?” I asked.

“I leave in a few days. I’m sorry Cam.”

I didn’t have to ask what he was sorry about. If he was leaving, there was only one thing he could be sorry about. He wasn’t going to be able to be my feeder anymore. It wasn’t like he could fly back to Pennsylvania once or twice a week so I could feed.

This sucked.

I studied him for a moment. He was still picking at his cuticle and anxiety was written all over his face. I knew him well enough to see all of the emotions behind his eyes. I could see the worry battling the excitement. He wanted this. He’d always wanted to travel. Besides we always knew that one day our arrangement would end. He’d want to find something real, and there was a good chance that when he found that, they wouldn’t want him to be hooking up with someone else.

I reached across the small space between us and squeezed his thigh. “I’m happy for you.”

His eyes met mine and the faintest smile appeared on his lips. “You are?”

“Yeah, Ryder. This is amazing.”

“But—”

“No buts,” I interrupted. “Don’t worry about me or about my feeding schedule. I can find another feeder, but this is a once in a lifetime kind of chance for you. How many students got accepted into the semester abroad?”

“I don’t know. My professor said that usually hundreds apply for this kind of thing. A lot more people than actually get to do it.”

“That is impressive. You should be so proud of yourself.” I was beaming from ear to ear. “I am. I’m proud of you, dude.”

I could worry about the personal repercussions of this later. Besides, how hard could it be to find another feeder? I mean, sure, I’d only ever fed off of Ryder, but it shouldn’t be too hard. According to most people, I was hot. According to Ryder, I was great in bed. According to Christa, there were a ton of humans who were willing to feed concubi. I’d just have to find one and make the arrangement.

Even if it wouldn’t be as good as what I had with Ryder.

“Tell me everything.”

For the next hour, I listened as Ryder told me everything about his study abroad program. It was at an all human university, just like the one he attended now. He said it had an amazing history program. A world class history program. His program of study would let him travel to other places in Europe, not just England. He’d get to tour Parliament and see the ruins in Greece. He’d get to walk around Paris and explore museums. It was one of the most impressive trips I’d ever heard of.

I was actually a little jealous. Why hadn’t I decided to be a history major?

I still felt good the next night when I went to visit my parents. They liked me to come over for a family dinner once or twice a month. I’d missed dinner a few weeks ago. It was on the same night as Creelin’s welcome bonfire, and I couldn’t miss that. It was one of the biggest social events of the semester.

Luckily, my parents understood. Christa had missed family dinner for the same reason when she’d been at Creelin.

When I got to my childhood home, my dad was finishing up in the kitchen while my mom chatted with Christa in the living room. I hollered a greeting to both of them before going into the kitchen to talk to my dad. I figured it was the safer conversation. I didn’t need Christa bringing up what Ever told her in front of my parents.

That lasted all the way up until about halfway through main course.

“You look better,” Christa commented as she cut into her pork chop.

My mom looked up from her plate, dark eyes moving between me and my sister. Even concerned, her face was ethereal. Her skin was a few shades darker than mine, but her hair was the same shade of black as mine. But unlike my hair, her hair always looked like there was a faint breeze around her. She and Christa both had that. They said it was a succubi thing. I wondered if my hair would do the same if I let it grow long enough, but I never had the patience to find out.

“What do you mean he looks better?” my father asked, clocking my mom’s look and my sister’s words.

“My newspaper editor is a busybody,” I muttered. I could feel their eyes on me: three sets of eyes demanding answers. I sighed. “I went a few days longer than usual between meeting up with Ryder, and I was tired. I guess Ever noticed and decided to report me to my sister.”

“Why did you go longer between feedings?” my mother asked. The concern in her voice tugged at something in my heart. I hated being the cause of that, but I knew that it’d get worse when she found out that Ryder was leaving the country.

Then she’d deliver the same lecture that she and my father had been giving me since I started requiring regular feedings just before my eighteenth birthday. That I should have more than one feeder instead of depending solely on Ryder.

For the first time in two years, I could kind of see their point. I still didn’t like it.

“Are you going to answer your mother?” my dad asked. His blue eyes, mirror images of mine, were hard and difficult to read.

“Normal start of semester stuff.” Well, partially normal start of semester stuff. Ryder planning to leave the country definitely played a part.

“But you’ve fed recently?” my dad questioned.

“Yesterday.”

“And you already have plans to meet up with Ryder? You can’t keep going that long between feedings, Cam. It’s not healthy.”

I wished I was a better liar, but I knew that if I said that I made plans with Ryder for another feeding, the truth would be written all over my face. When he left my dorm the day before, we’d both agreed that we’d had our last feeding session. He didn’t need to be worried about feeding me while he was packing up his life to go overseas. I wasn’t even sure he’d have time for a feeding with all of that.

“No,” I admitted. I played with the mountain of mashed potatoes on my plate. I was not looking forward to this discussion. “Yesterday was our last feeding.”

“What do you mean your last feeding?” Christa asked, beating both of my parents to the punch. “He’s your feeder. How do you have a last feeding with the only person you’re feeding from? Do you at least have other feeders lined up?”

“He got accepted to a semester abroad program. It’s a big opportunity.”

I didn’t answer the other question. I hoped that taking a big bite of my pork chop would buy me some time and someone would start a different thread of conversation.

My hopes were in vain.

“You didn’t answer the rest of your sister’s question.” My mother was really calling me out right now. “Do you have another feeder lined up? Preferably more than one other feeder.”

I sighed and dropped my fork. It hit the plate with a loud clink that earned me another stern look from my father. “No, I don’t have another feeder lined up. I’ll find one before I need another feeding. Worse case, Christa can hook me up with someone she knows.” I aimed a pointed look at my sister. “You’re always telling me to find other feeders, so I’m assuming you’d have some in mind, right?”

My ever so mature sister tossed a baby carrot at me. “Christa!” my mother scolded.

Christa didn’t even pretend to look embarrassed. “He deserved it.” She turned her dark eyes on me. “Smart ass.”

And because I was just as mature as my sister, I responded by sticking my tongue out at her.

“And what happens if your sister can’t find you someone?” my dad questioned, trying to reign in our antics. “This is why you should have more than one feeder, Cam. Do you remember how bad it got when Ryder got the flu last year? You couldn’t feed for almost two weeks, and you ended up in the hospital. I never want to get that call again.”

There was an unfamiliar look in my father’s eyes: concern, worry, sadness. He’d never been the most expressive man, but I knew how much he cared about me and Christa. He’d never once tried to hide it. Unfortunately, that care often came out as overbearing and judgmental.

Like now.

“I don’t want to have more than one feeder, Dad.” It was a well-tread argument. “I don’t operate that way. Finding a feeder that isn’t Ryder is going to be weird enough.”

My dad opened his mouth to speak again, but my mom shook her head. The subject was effectively tabled, and dinner conversation moved onto other things.

My sister talked about her classes. My parents talked about their jobs. It did get a little weird when my sister started talking about a new feeder she’d met: a young woman who attended the same school as Ryder. The fact that this was the first non-male feeder she’d ever talked about wasn’t the weird part. It was the fact that we were talking about this at the dinner table. Just because we fed on sexual energy didn’t mean I wanted to hear about my family’s sex lives.

I had never been more grateful for dinner to end.