Incubus Dreams

I gave him a very cold look. “One, no one that would actually know would tell you shit, and two, don’t let a little metaphysical sex go to your head. Remember, I watched you writhe all over the seat, and it didn’t appeal to me. It wasn’t foreplay, or a preview, it was just an accident.”

“Sorry.”

I turned back to Requiem. “Now, you, just tell me what you need to tell me. No preface, no long explanation, just say it.”

“You won’t like it,” he said.

“I already don’t like it. Just tell me, Requiem, just tell me.” I was getting a headache. I didn’t know if it was loss of blood, or tension, but whatever, it was begi

“He thought that if things went as badly as they could go…”

“Games, word games, just say it.”

He sighed, and the sigh seemed to fill the Jeep with echoes. “If you had to feed theardeur, or if your beast rose, we were the two most likely to survive an attack without having to resort to hurting you.”

“You left something out,” I said.

“I’ve said enough,” he said.

“All of it, Requiem, I want to hear all of it.”

“No,” Graham said, “you don’t. That tone in your voice, no you don’t.”

“Just drive,” I said, and turned back to the vampire. “Tell me the rest.”

He sighed again, and it flittered through the interior of the Jeep like it had a life of its own.

“And can the voice tricks, or you’re really going to piss me off.”

“My apologies, it is automatic for me, when faced with an angry woman, to try and pacify her, by whatever means.”

“Talk to me, Requiem, we’re almost at the cemetery. I want that last bit before we get out of the car.”

He drew himself up even straighter in his seat, very formal. “We were also the two at the club most likely to be able to turn violence to seduction, if the need arose.”

“He must have a high opinion of you both, or a low opinion of me.”

“That last is not true, and you know it,” Requiem said.

I sighed. “Just the way I’m feeling tonight.”

Graham said it. “You’re feeling slutty because you did Byron.”

I looked at him. “Well, that’s one way of putting it.”

“It’s exactly how you’re feeling,” he said, sounding sure.

“And you’re sure of that?”

“The way you’re acting, yeah. Besides, I know your reputation. If anyone can resist temptation it’s you.”

“Everyone keeps telling me that, but I don’t seem to be resisting much anymore.”

“I have lived with others more powerful than I in Belle Morte’s line for centuries, Anita. I, more than most, know just how much you must fight every night of your existence not to be consumed by their power.” He paused and then whispered so that it filled the darkened car, “If you are not careful, their beauty will become both heaven and hell, you will betray every oath, abandon every loyalty, give up your heart, your mind, your body, and your immortal soul to have them near you but one more night. Then one cold night, a hundred years after the passion is spent, and nothing but ashes remain, you look up and see someone gazing at you, and you know that look, you’ve seen it before.

A hundred years later and someone gazes upon you as if you were heaven itself, but you know in your heart of hearts that it’s not heaven you’re offering them, it’s hell.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, but Graham did.

“Now I know why they call you Requiem. You’re poetic, but fucking depressing.”

Tonight, I just thought he was accurate.