He staggers slightly, showing a point of weakness, before regaining his balance.
"You're hurt," I murmur while examining him a little closer.
"I'm fine. It takes a lot out of me to throw out enough energy to take down a night stalker. Not to mention, even though I was carrying that stone, crossing your barrier took a lot of my strength as well."
"How exactly do you feed?" I ask curiously as he slowly follows me to the kitchen.
"I usually put food in my mouth," he playfully retorts.
"Ha. Not what I meant. I was talking about how do you feed your incubus power? I know what you feed on, but I don't know how it works. Night stalkers, changers, and lycans drink blood. Dark angels and angels need to absorb energy from the air. Witches and warlocks need contact with the earth... How do you feed?"
"How do you think I feed?" he chuckles out.
"Sex?" I squeak.
"Not sex. I just draw in your sexual energy. Just like you felt back at that masquerade ball." A smile plays on his lips as he gathers all of his ingredients for his concoction.
"Oh. Then take mine. I'm sure I've got some rattling around in me somewhere." I sure as hell don't want it.
He laughs ferociously hard, and then he shakes his head. "You're glowing with sexual energy, but it's hard to draw anything at all from you. Like I mentioned earlier, you're immune. When you're pissed, or almost fucking someone, then I can draw."
As crude and blush-worthy as that comment is, I ignore it.
"What if I give it to you willingly? Before, I was resisting. Let's see what happens when I hand it over."
A new smile spreads, one of intrigue and excitement.
"Okay."
He walks over and pulls my hand in his. I feel a stir, but there's still no sexual draw. He leans over and pulls my hand to his lips, kissing the back of it, and a shiver follows. Still, there's nothing really tugging at me to do anything.
In a breath, his aura reads red - the vibrant red of an incubus. He's letting me see his magic in his aura. That's shocking.
"Did it work?" I ask curiously.
He grips the counter, struggling to find composure, and I'm starting to worry I've hurt him.
"It worked. Damn did it work. I don't know if I've ever tasted so much power course through me at once."
I smile and then poke my finger to draw blood. "Now make the potion."
He looks at me curiously while bringing my pricked finger over a glass vial. He presses the tip of my finger to the edge to let the blood slowly drip.
"That kiss should have been your undoing. You gave me what I needed, but you still denied my power over you. I wonder if you could do that to others... such as night stalkers."
"You saw what Isolis was doing to me. I couldn't use my power, so I have no ability to hold them out."
"That you know of," he says as if he's finishing my sentence that I thought was complete. "Your whole life you've been warned of a night stalker's influence over you. My kind rarely messes with witches simply because we fear the wrath. You were most likely never warned about me, so you never thought I had any power over you. I bet you're the only thing holding you back. You should study that further."
He pours in the lavender extract and then pulls the coffee beans in his hands. A small crunch in his fist turns the beans into ground powder. I watch as he mixes in the orange juice, and then a bubbling steam comes from the vial.
"What's going on?"
He smiles as he places the vial in the center of the bar, and then he leans back, seeming pleased.
"It's working."
Dray's the first one out of his first-floor bedroom. Rubbing his head as though it aches, he takes in the scene. Isolis is still collapsed on the floor, his endless flow of blood still pouring out of his gaping, charred wounds.