Heart of the Incubus (5 page)

“My neighbor’s here in the living room. He searched the entire block but he didn’t see anything suspicious. He says he’ll stay with me until…as long as I need him.”

“I’ll be there in less than half an hour.” Even if he had to break all the traffic laws to do it.

“Thanks.” There was a pause before she said in a small voice, “I’m sorry I bothered you. I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can always call me. I’ll see you soon.”

After hanging up, Cresso threw on his clothes and shoes, grabbed his keys, and rushed for the door. He banged his thigh on the rectangular glass table in the foyer but shook it off with a muttered curse. Since demons possessed the ability to heal at an abnormally fast rate, he wouldn’t even bear a bruise.

He headed downstairs to the parking garage, thinking of Genevieve all the while. She’d mentioned that she left her whole family behind in the United States. The thought that she was so alone that she would be forced to call someone she didn’t like filled him with compassion for her, as well as fury at the sick son of a bitch who thought that tormenting an innocent woman was fun. At the same time, she could have called anyone else, but she’d chosen him. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

He let out a little laugh at the direction his thoughts had taken. How foolish of him. The only reason she’d called him was because he stumbled upon her package earlier in the day. That was it.

Once he was in the car and driving to Genevieve’s, he dialed Mac’s number. Thankfully the shifter had just arrived back in town. He agreed to meet Cresso at Genevieve’s address.

The light to Genevieve’s front porch was on when he pulled up across the street from her Victorian townhouse. He stepped onto her porch and saw the rats carefully piled in one of the corners. A thick tide of anger rose within him, forcing him to clench his fists. What kind of sick fuck got off on terrorizing a helpless woman like this? It was disgusting.

Cresso resisted the urge to kick the macabre gift off the porch. Mac would want to sniff the rats to see if he could catch a scent, so they’d have to stay where they were for now. He knocked on the door and moments later it opened to reveal Genevieve. Her damp hair hung in golden ringlets over her shoulders, and her voluptuous body was covered by a soft, pink silk robe that clung to every curve and ended at midcalf. Not to mention her glasses, which were slipping down her cute little nose. He went instantly hard, his allure unfolding around him. With serious effort, he forced it back into his body.

“Cresso.” The relief in her eyes was completely at odds with every other time she’d looked at him.

He cursed his stupid cock for reacting so basely to the sight of her, but then, it didn’t care about the gravity of their situation. It just wanted to see her naked, and this was the closest it had ever come. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice his embarrassing predicament.

“Genevieve.” He closed his hands over her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

To his surprise, she relaxed into his touch for a moment before stiffening and pulling away. She tugged her robe farther closed and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Come in.”

She turned and led the way into her living room, a cozy space with peach-colored walls and a love seat to match. A brown leather recliner sat in front of the bay window looking out toward the street, and sitting in that recliner was an older man with a big gut and a bald head. He blinked at Cresso from behind his round eyeglasses.

Genevieve motioned back and forth between the two of them. “Mr. Baggins, this is Dr. Taylor, the gentleman I was waiting for.”

“How do you do?” Mr. Baggins rose and held out his hand.

Cresso strode forward to shake it. “Thank you for sitting with Genevieve until I arrived.”

Mr. Baggins scowled. “Still don’t understand why we didn’t call the police, but I suppose that’s her business. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thanks again,” Genevieve said to her neighbor.

Cresso examined the space while Genevieve walked Mr. Baggins to the door. There was an old fireplace that looked like it hadn’t been used in years, and a rectangular table in a light shade of wood had been squeezed into the far corner of the room. All in all, the area looked exactly how he’d imagined it would. Warm, comfy, and inviting—the exact opposite of her sterile laboratory. A place where she could sit and read before going off to bed.

The thought of Genevieve in her bed reawakened the stirrings of life in his groin. He sat down on the recliner with a muttered curse. He was going to have to get control over himself. Now that it seemed they were going to be spending some time together, it wouldn’t do to have a constant hard-on whenever she was around.

A moment later Genevieve returned. Her distinctive jasmine-and-honey scent wrapped around him like an intoxicating caress. Damn, he loved the way she smelled.

When she sat on the far end of the love seat, he rose and sat next to her. She tensed in obvious discomfort, but he ignored that. “Tell me exactly what happened, Genevieve.”

She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. It brought a hint of softness to her—a sense of vulnerability—that she always tried to disguise at work. He’d sensed it from the beginning, and it was part of what had attracted him to her.

“I got home and went upstairs to take a bath,” she said. “When I came down, I heard the noise at the door. You know the rest.”

“Do you think you might have been followed on the train?”

Her brows knitted together. “I don’t know. I didn’t notice anyone, but there were so many people. I suppose it would have been easy for anyone to hide in the crowd.”

All too easy. Now they had no way of knowing if she’d been trailed or if the stalker had discovered where she lived by some other method.

“I guess I should have waited for you, huh?” she whispered.

While he couldn’t disagree, he didn’t want her to feel guilty about it. “None of this is your fault. The blame lies squarely with the sick son of a bitch who’s doing all this.”

Genevieve’s eyes took on a haunted look. “What am I going to do?”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He reached over and took her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over her fingers to warm them up. “I’m gonna help you figure this out. Promise.”

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath and dropped her gaze to his lips. When her breath hitched, he stilled at the thrum of energy that started to build between them. This was so unlike her normal expression of disgust for him. He didn’t quite know what to make of it.

Without him willing it, his incubus allure seeped out of his pores and thickened the air between them. Her body responded, her lower lip wobbling and her nipples hardening to stiff buds that poked against the silky fabric of her robe. Not that she had a choice. Sex demon allure was almost impossible to resist.

Aw hell, he needed sex. Needed it like he needed air to breathe. Ever since the holiday party he’d started to go longer without it, testing the boundaries of his resistance. This time it had been three weeks. Soon his body would begin to shut down from lack of nutrition. He would grow weaker and weaker. Even now, knowing that Genevieve was responding only to his allure and not because she had any personal interest in him, his incubus side longed to lay her down and fuck her senseless.

Genevieve trembled and inched toward him. “Cresso…”

The knock on her door startled them both into jumping. He managed to fold his allure back into his pores, and she tugged her hands out of his. Her eyes darkened with suspicion.

Great
. Now she thought he’d tried to take advantage of her. He hadn’t—at least not consciously.

She rose and glanced toward the door, pressing her palms together. “I don’t know who that could be.”

“Sorry, I forgot to mention I called that detective I told you about. He’s gonna take a look around and ask you some questions.” Cresso rose and headed to the door, throwing it open to reveal Mac. After making the necessary introductions, he gestured toward the porch. “Gen, you stay in here.”

Her mouth tightened at his words. “It’s my house, my stalker. I’m going out with you two.”

“Suit yourself.” He’d wanted to save her the horror of having to look at those rats again, but if the woman was going to be so damn stubborn about it, there was nothing he could do.

Mac led the way to the pile of rats and squatted before them. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

Genevieve pressed against Cresso’s side. He was pretty sure she didn’t even realize she was doing it.

“What’s he doing?” she whispered.

“He’s a wolf-shifter. His strongest sense by far is the ability to smell.”

“He won’t pick up on anything,” she said. “The rats reeked of formaldehyde.”

Huh
. Cresso couldn’t smell anything, but he believed her. Scenting chemicals
was
part of her gift.

After several moments, Mac shook his head and rose. “Whoever did this wore gloves and used chemicals to hide his scent. All I get off the rats is the smell of formaldehyde and rubber.”

Shit
. As Cresso had feared. Whoever her stalker was, he wasn’t a fool.

Could he be another one of the scientists at the lab?

Mac motioned toward the interior of the house. “I’m gonna check inside to see if I pick up any unusual scents. Once I’m done, I’ll want to ask the lady a few questions about these letters she’s receiving. I’ll need to see them, too.”

“I left them at the office,” Genevieve said.

“He can stop by tomorrow.” Cresso nodded at Mac and the shifter retreated into the house.

Almost as if against her will, Genevieve’s eyes traveled back down to the rats. She let out a little sigh. “What am I going to do?”

The tug on his heartstrings prompted him into action. “I’ll get rid of these. You go pack a bag.”

One of her brows lifted. “Pack?”

“You can’t stay here alone. Not until this mess is straightened out.”

Genevieve tugged the sash on her robe tighter. “So, where am I supposed to stay?”

She wasn’t going to like this. Not one bit. “My place.”

Her eyes widened into a look of horror that would be comical if it wasn’t so damn soul crushing.

“What?”

Chapter Four

On the long list of things Genevieve never thought she’d be doing, spending the night at Cresso’s apartment had to be somewhere near the top. After he’d initially suggested it, she’d come up with a million reasons why it was a bad idea, and he’d countered every one. Truth be told, he was right. She couldn’t stay at her house. Not only was it dangerous, but there was no way in hell she’d ever be able to get any sleep, knowing that her stalker knew where she lived.

Yet, would Cresso’s place be any less dangerous? After all,
he
was going to be in it.

Even now, riding in Cresso’s car, she was assaulted by his lush cinnamon-and-spice scent. Occasional jolts of electricity streamed toward her, sliding along her body in an erotic caress that left her breathless with need. His incubus allure—and she was beginning to suspect he had very little control over it. He certainly didn’t seem to be enjoying her discomfort. In fact, if his stiff arms and tight jaw were any indication, the man was every bit as uncomfortable as she was.

After a tense fifteen-minute car ride, Cresso finally broke the silence. “Is there anyone you need to call, to let them know what’s happening?”

Genevieve couldn’t help but laugh at that. The only people who would even be interested were her parents, but she couldn’t tell them for one simple reason. “Mom and Dad would freak out, and they don’t know about the Otherworlds, so that’s a definite no.”

“Your mother or your father, they don’t have your magical ability?”

Cresso’s long fingers slid down the steering wheel, sparking a shiver of longing in Genevieve’s body. She directed her gaze out the windshield before it could morph into a full-blown tremor. “My father’s a respected biochemist. His work has always come so easily to him. I think he does have the ability, but not at the same level as I do.”

Not enough that he’d ever questioned it or considered himself strange. Certainly not enough that he’d ever been ridiculed by his peers.