Cursed (Book # 3 of Hunted)

Incubus

"God, you really are handsome, aren't you?" Professor Hardwicke murmured stepping towards Ilian. He smirked and leaned close...close enough to kiss. As she was going in for the kill, Ilian opened his mouth and said, "I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half-foot pole, you Grinch." She pulled away looking positively heartbroken. The class giggled and 'ooed' in response. Some of the girls had removed their blazers. A boy loosened his tie. An unfortunately developed thirteen-year-old girl undid the top two buttons of her shirt.

"And for the record," Ilian said straightening up and looking out over the class, "They haven't tested me on anyone under the age of fifteen because I refuse to touch anyone under the age of fifteen." He turned on the professor and hissed too quietly for the underclassmen to hear, "Let alone a pre-pubescent child, you sick fuck."

"Andrew," Hardwicke snapped, "Put the Dampener back on, right now!" Andrew fumbled with the collar which he had placed on the teacher's desk.

"Her, on the other hand," he said and his eyes met mine. My face flamed. It happened so quickly that even with my enhanced eyes, I almost missed it. Andrew came at him with the collar, Ilian ducked and popped his chain right off the hook on Andrew's belt. Suddenly he was perched on my desk, looming over me like a giant bird of prey. He smiled, showing pretty white teeth and said, "I'd have absolutely no problem testing my abilities on you, little one."

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, hear the blood pulsing in my ears. Heat emanated from him in waves, but not topical warmth like from a fire...This heat clawed its way under my skin, causing my muscles to tense in a way they never had before. Sweat sprang up along the sides of my neck and my breathing sped up until it sounded like I was panting.

"How 'bout it, little one?" he asked leaning dangerously close, "You wanna run a few tests with me?" His face was less than six inches from mine. His lips looked ridiculously soft and he smelled stupidly good, like vanilla and sunshine. I wanted to kiss him. God, I really wanted to kiss him. No! You have a boyfriend!

I looked into his eyes like two golden pools of honey flecked with brilliant blue. I could drown in those eyes. I raised myself slightly out of my seat and began closing the gap between us. No! Boyfriend! Remember?! Hmm? What? Zane! Remember Zane?!

"Zane who?" I murmured before pressing my lips against his. It was instant bliss. A pleasant fire roared through my body, obliterating my thoughts and flooding my brain with endorphins. I reached up and twisted my fingers through his soft, silvery hair. My skin was buzzing with desire. I wanted him to touch me. Why wasn't he touching me?! The gloves! If I could just undo the cuffs and rip off those stupid gloves, he could touch me. But that would mean removing my hands from his beautiful hair and that seemed positively impossible.

His tongue was in my mouth. I could feel his piercing against the inside of my teeth. His mouth tasted sweet like sugar. A welcome change after all the blood-flavored kisses I had shared with...that guy...what was his name? I touched Ilian's face. His skin was impossibly warm. My fingertips trailed down his neck to his shoulder and down his arm to his wrist. I felt the cold metal cuffs. Perhaps I could break them with my Hunter strength.

I tried and failed. I tried again. My attempts were becoming weaker. I was becoming weaker. He was draining the life out of me. Ah well. I moved my hands back to his body, slipping my fingers under the back of his shirt. At least I would die happy. 

He suddenly pulled away and I saw his eyes, no longer gold, but instead glowing an unnatural shade of blue. I then glimpsed a syringe sticking out of the side of his neck and Andrew standing behind him with a furious expression on his face. Andrew caught Ilian under the arms and dragged him off my desk muttering angrily to himself about how stupid Professor Hardwicke was and how there was something called a 'furry boggart' living in the potion lab supply closet on the Witches side of campus.

"Class six. Perfect for first years. But does anyone listen to me? No! I'm just dumb little Andy, the goddamn Incubus wrangler." I would have laughed if I didn't feel so drained. I watched him drag Ilian away. The Incubus whined pathetically and reached out to me with his metal mesh covered hands. Something about that gesture and the look of pain on his face triggered a visceral response, an image of another man I loved being similarly torn away from me. Love? Was this love?