When I reach the attic, my entire apartment is dark. Not that it’s particularly spacious or well-situated enough to get ample light from outside. The window isn’t large or double glazed, and I doubt that the space I occupy would satisfy any kind of building regulation. At least not with walls that can’t keep out the cold.
I turn on the light and walk across the studio room, making sure to alert Mr. Roberts of my presence.
“Fuck him,” I mutter under my breath.
“Fuck who?” asks a deep voice that whispers over my skin like a soft breeze.
I whirl around, my gaze falling on the sofa bed I left unfolded. The monster isn’t there, so I glance in the direction of the little dining table for two. When I don’t find him there, I walk into the bathroom and pull back the shower curtain.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“Close by,” he replies. “Turn off the light.”
I’m about to walk to the switch on the wall, when his words register as a red flag. “Why won’t you come out and let me see you?”
The monster hesitates. “I am a creature of the dark.”
“Like a vampire?” I ask.
“I don’t understand that word.”
“Do you burn up in the sun?” I turn a slow circle, not knowing where he’s hiding because his voice comes from every corner. “Or maybe turn into a pile of ash?”
He chuckles. “Of course, not.”
“Then why won’t you let me see your face?”
Silence stretches out for several seconds, and I grind my molars hard enough to strain my jaw. Nothing is right about this situation. While Jessika listened to the soulmate manifestation audio to attract a published author, I got a creature of mysterious origin who tried to drag me into a dimension that looked like Hell.
When his attempt to abduct me failed on the grounds that I would die, I let him make out with me in the dark. Worse—I let him feed from my pussy. What kind of a creature did that?
“You’re an incubus,” I say, my voice flat.
“No,” he replies so quickly I’m surprised he even knows the word.
“Then, what are you?” I ask. “Where are you right now?”
Another pause.
“Under the bed.”
“Right, then.” I reach into my pocket, pull out my mobile and tap on the icon for the flashlight.
“What are you doing?” asks the monster, his voice panicked.
“I need to see you,” I reply.
“Wait!”
“No.” I advance toward the sofa.
“Don’t do this,” he says, his voice heavy with a warning.
“Explain to me why not.” I crouch at the foot of the bed but point the flashlight toward the ceiling.
“Our kind changes when exposed to the light.”
“Like gremlins?” I ask.