Halo

Chapter 20: Fifteen

I attempted to get out of bed soundlessly. The key word in that sentence being attempted. It sounded like a herd of elephants trying to get out of the crowded little bed. Well...crowded big bed. Seemed little with so many bodies in it.

"Morning," a sleepy voice greeted. I leaned over and kissed her head. "You leaving me, baby?"

"I'm leaving, cutie." Couldn't tell you her name. Couldn't tell you the name of anyone in that bed. They were sweet, though. Sweet and filled me up easily. Should last me a few weeks.

"If you ever find yourself in Cairo again, give me a call," she winked.

"Will do, sweetheart," I kissed her full lips and tugged on my clothes. I doubted I'd ever be in Cairo again. Don't get me wrong, I loved Cairo with a passion. Hell, I was born in Cairo, but there were so many other places to visit. So many other people to sleep with. Feed off of.

I left the giant house without another word. Everyone was still passed out. Not a surprise. I fed off of most of them. An incubus has to do what an incubus has to do, though. And it's not like I killed them. Some of us could be real dicks. I, however, was not. I was hated for that. It was okay, though, because I liked being hated. Easier than being loved. Being loved required fake smiles and ended in heartbreak. Being hated didn't require either.

I hopped in my little car–never a materialistic incubus–and drove down the street to my own house. I needed a shower. Desperately. I smelled like sweat and alcohol. I turned on my radio and hummed along to whatever came on. I knew it all. New, old, rock, pop, just not country. I never cared for country. It all sounded the same in my ears.

My car sputtered to a stop in front of my garage. "God damn it," I rubbed my face. "Baby, don't die on me. We've had so many great adventures!" I rubbed the steering wheel and attempted to start my car again. Attempted. Failed. I whined and got out. At least she went peacefully and in my driveway.

I stepped into the cool house and immediately stripped off my clothes. There was a trail of sweaty clothing that reeked of whiskey following me to the bathroom. My shower was cold and short. It made me feel better. More alive, if that was even possible. I walked around my house naked–as I often did–and found my phone in my room. Few messages. Not a lot. I rarely gave my number out. For a sex demon, I was rather antisocial.

One message caught my eye. Mainly the fact that it was one name: Asher Jones. I immediately got dressed and headed out. His house wasn't far from mine. In fact, I payed him plenty of visits before when we were both in the city. I walked to his house on the memorized path.

The stunning red car parked in front of the driveway told me he was, in fact, home. Asher Jones was the most materialistic thing I had ever met. It was a good thing he was pretty.

I knocked on the door and leaned against the door frame. A petit woman with gentle curls like the midnight ocean opened the door. So Ash had a new plaything. Didn't surprise me. From what I remembered, he got a new one every other weekend. Her bright blue eyes grew wide and she nearly slammed the door in my face. I stuck my foot in the way to jamb it.

"You're not Asher Jones," I pointed out. She shook her head. "Is he home?"

"He's on couch-rest at the moment, but yes. Who the hell are you?" her eyes scaled me. I chuckled.

"Tell him it's his lonely ex-boyfriend. That ought to get him off the couch," I shrugged. She glared at me. I narrowed my eyes at her. "What's wrong? Is he sick?"

"We wrecked yesterday. He's perfectly fine. But considering I'm his girlfriend, and you're a sex demon, I'd like to know who you are."

"Girlfriend?" Asher Jones was not the settling type. "My name is Fifteen."