How to Kill an Incubus, #1 [SAMPLE]

H2KAI 5: The Claims Department

CHAPTER FIVE

 “Renée, you and your husband are dead to me,” I hissed, massaging my temples with two fingers as I scowled into the vanity mirror in my best friend’s bedroom. “Dead, you hear me?”

She giggled, blindsiding me from behind and spritzing her fruity perfume into my neck. “You’ll thank me when you’ve gotten some nice Italian sex with a nice Italian,” was her response to my serious threat. “Now you smell like you’re ready!”

I whirled away from my reflection, glaring at her. “You’re impossible!”

When I’d called Ren up that morning and asked her if I could come over for dinner, I never would have expected her to phone Paul Marino, one of Lorenzo’s eligible first cousins, and invite him over as well. It was underhanded, it was unwelcome – and it was just like Renée Colette Marino, née Russo.

Sure, Paul was my type – tall, dark and devilishly handsome, and smart, to boot – but I didn’t need to be hooked up right now. Even if I wanted to hook up with him, my pussy felt so raw and beaten up after being with Andrei, I wouldn’t be much of a lay. Besides, Paul was a cop, ergo, a good guy. Good guys generally didn’t fall for women like me. Case in point: Daniel Lawless. Evil guys were the type that went for me. Case in point: A demon lord that went by the name of Andrei Anghelescu.

I tried to tell myself that my reluctance to get hooked up wasn’t because I’d been “claimed” by a demon king – and was only over at the Marino house for sanctuary because said demon had promised to swing by that night for a blowjob – but I was only lying to myself.

“Get your cute little butt downstairs and make nice, Rae Erickson,” Ren ordered, giving me a gentle push toward her bedroom door. I’d been hiding out in here for a while now. “Paul’s a catch and so are you. I’m going to help my baby with the dishes and you are going to get back to the living room and seduce the shit out of Paul, OK? OK.”

“Has anyone ever told you how bossy you are?” I muttered, marching out her room. Renée was the only person – OK, living person – on this planet that had the power to push me around. Older than me by a year, she’d always acted like she had a decade over me and often assumed an annoying big-sister role.

“I’m a regular dominatrix,” she replied from behind me, and I smiled, approaching the stairs.

Back in the living room, Paul was kicking back on Lorenzo’s beat-up leather recliner watching some classic football game his cousin had recorded. His big Converse-covered feet were on the cluttered coffee table and a bottle of Heineken was in his hand.

“Hey,” I said, forcing some cheer into my voice and sitting on the couch nearest to him. It wasn’t his fault I wasn’t in the mood to be pushed into his lap.

“You OK?” he asked, taking his feet off the table and sitting up. “You look flushed.”

“Just the heat,” I replied, fanning myself for good measure. It was hot. “So how’s work?”

I felt guilty for not asking him earlier. Dinner had been a forced affair because, like a sullen teen, I’d wordlessly poked at my plate of Lorenzo’s scrumptious spaghetti and meatballs, refusing to make Renée’s matchmaking any easier. Conversation had passed over my head while Renée shot daggers at me that I could feel even though I barely glanced at her.

“Oh, you know, the usual,” Paul told me, guzzling down the rest of his beer before slamming the empty can on the table. “I’m practically on desk duty.” Tacoma Bay wasn’t exactly crime free but cops here didn’t get a lot of real action.