Inflamed by an Incubus

Fenix stared at the illuminated façade, an ache forming in his breast that throbbed stronger and stronger as he lingered in the dark park, thinking about his mate. She had worked there, and he had found a thousand excuses to sit in this park to watch her come and go with her partner or a group of fellow hunters.

He still couldn’t believe his mate had become a member of Archangel, had actively participated in missions that pitted her against immortals. Over the year or so that he had known her as Evelyn, he had wanted to approach her countless times to tell her she was working against her own kind, that she wasn’t human, and that by working for Archangel she was placing herself in grave danger.

If they discovered what she was… gods, it didn’t bear thinking about.

They wouldn’t just study her. They would vivisect her.

That throbbing, pounding sensation inside him grew stronger still, had his heart racing before he knew it. He frowned as he caught the light scent of rose with an undernote of sweet smoke on the still night air. He had to be imagining it.

And then a voice.

“I’m not sure how you can be so calm about walking through a pitch-black park.”

That sultry sing-song drew his focus to a point just forty feet off to his right, closer to the building. He narrowed his gaze on that spot, his senses sharpening as he tried to make out the couple heading towards him, because he had to be going crazy.

It couldn’t be her.

“You all right?” A male voice answered, and Fenix wanted to growl as he instantly recognised that regal accent that was more country house than London town and the familiar scent he associated with someone he wanted to butcher hit him. The lighting in the park was non-existent, but Fenix could see well enough to experience one hell of a spike in his anger when the male stopped and caught her arm, pulling her around to face him.

To face Fenix too.

He stared at her.

Aderyn.

How?

He had seen the demon king stab her with his own eyes, had watched her fall as he had been dragged away and had felt her disappear. He didn’t understand. He had seen her die. Had felt her die. She should have been reborn, the cycle beginning again.

Only it was definitely Aderyn—Evelyn—standing before him with her cursed partner.

Fenix tried to content himself with just knowing she had somehow survived and was safe, and how the sound of her voice calmed him, warmed him and gave him the strength to keep going.

Only the way she smiled at her partner and the way that male lifted his hand and touched her face had a vicious hiss filling his head and had his fingers curling into fists as rage poured through his veins like molten lava.

And the way her eyes slipped shut briefly and she leaned into his caress pulled a fierce reaction from him.

“Maybe we should forget about getting a beer and head back. You don’t look so good,” the male said, his voice distant in Fenix’s ears as he kicked off.

She murmured, “I’m fine.”

And then tensed and her gaze whipped towards Fenix, her golden eyes widening as they collided with his. Heat rolled through him, sparked to an inferno by their gazes colliding, as if it had been the match that had lit the tinder of his passion. He couldn’t breathe as he stared into her eyes, at flecks of gold so familiar and warming, comforting even.

But then awareness of the male and the memory of how she had leaned into his touch had the flare of white-hot jealousy returning, and he couldn’t stop himself from sliding a black look at her partner.

She barked, “Stop right there.”

And drew her gun.

Fenix launched at Archer’s back, nimbly dodging the small dart that flew at him as she depressed the trigger. He slammed into the male, grappled with him and managed to get his arm around his neck from behind. He might not be at full strength again yet, but he didn’t need to be in order to teach the human a lesson he would never forget, ensuring he kept his filthy paws to himself.

Archer seized his left forearm and twisted with him, tossing him off him, and Evelyn fired again.

Missed again.

She bit out a ripe curse and reloaded.

Fenix rolled to his feet, pivoted on the grass and kicked off again, pure unadulterated fury at the helm as he glared at Archer. How dare he touch Fenix’s mate. How dare he seek to take what was his. Aderyn—Evelyn—belonged to him, now and forever. No male would take her from him. She was his.

Archer was ready for him again, moved inhumanly fast as Fenix dropped his shoulder to plough it into his gut, grabbed him by the back of his shirt with both hands and surprised Fenix by managing to seize his left wrist. Fenix bellowed in agony as the male twisted his arm up his back, had his elbow burning white-hot and panic setting in as it felt as if it might snap. He arched forwards and cried out again as Archer shoved his hand further up his spine.

He had been mistaken. He wasn’t strong enough yet. But he would be.

His head fogged as the pain became too much and he tried to shake it off, focused on the male behind him and somehow managed to bring his right elbow up. Aimed it at the male’s pretty face. Archer easily blocked it and shoved a knee into his back, knocking him down onto the grass. The hunter’s full weight came down on him, pinning him to the damp ground, and Fenix struggled, refusing to give up.

Even when he knew it was over.

Attacking the hunter had been a mistake.

Not because he was weak from hunger.

But because Archer was incredibly strong.

Far stronger than Fenix had thought, and far stronger than was humanly possible for a male of his size.

He slid Archer a look out of the corner of his eye, met his gaze and held it, drawing on what strength he had and summoning a gift that always came in handy at times like this. Archer’s pupils slowly dilated as Fenix turned on the charm, his grip growing weaker. Fenix grinned inside and kept up his assault, getting into the male’s head and stirring passion in him, a desire to do whatever Fenix wanted.

Which boiled down to letting him go.

The hunter’s gaze suddenly sharpened, his eyes narrowing as his dark eyebrows knitted hard and he dug his knee harder into Fenix’s spine. The male leaned over him, shoving him into the dirt, and Fenix couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t at full strength yet, but he should have been able to charm the hunter. That ability grew stronger as he grew weaker, was always on hand when he needed it. Archer should have been putty in his hands, aching for him and willing to do whatever he wanted.

Archer brought his mouth close to Fenix’s ear.

“Not going to work, incubus,” Archer hissed. “You should have stayed away.”

Fenix jerked back against him and summoned another ability, because he was damned if he was going to let the hunter win.

Only when he tried to teleport, nothing happened.

He stared at Archer out of the corner of his eye, shock rolling through him as the male slowly smiled at him, his smug look telling Fenix that he knew what he had just tried and failed to do. Fenix glared at him, silently letting the hunter know that he was on to him too. His inability to teleport wasn’t because he was weak still and had tapped himself out by teleporting from Geneva to Scotland and then on to London. Something was different about Archer.

Archer sneered at him and reached into the thigh pocket of his black fatigues, pulling out a small radio device.

Evelyn came to tower over them both, her golden eyes cold as she stared down at him, her gun aimed at his shoulder. Maybe he could work with this. Every instinct he possessed screamed at him that he could. His mate was right there and that look in her eyes said she wasn’t going to let him go. This was an opportunity—a chance to get through to her and make her see that she wasn’t human and didn’t belong at Archangel. He relaxed beneath Archer, his struggles ceasing as he accepted his fate, determined to make it work in his favour.

He would convince Evelyn to leave Archangel and her partner and together they could find the mage who had cursed them. They could have that forever they had always wanted with each other.

The rose-hued image in his mind of a happily forever after got a huge crack in it that bled oily black all over it as he met Evelyn’s gaze and the more sensible part of him, the one not swept up in seeing his mate again, whispered that it wasn’t going to be that easy.

Fenix realised with sickening dread that his rash actions had landed him in a whole lot of trouble—the sort that involved vivisection—when she took the radio from her partner and brought it to her rosy full lips.

“Prepare a pen for a new guest.”