Page 18 of Snowed In with an Incubus

When they got onto the front porch, Jaz gasped so loud that Sam worried his horns had popped out again. They’d never donethat before when he was full, but it was a week of firsts.

He turned to her, feeling his forehead self-consciously. “What?”

She pointed at the window, green eyes gleaming. “Is that Xena?”

Sam looked over. Xena, his border collie, had her front paws braced against the living room window. Her tail wagged furiouslybehind her.

“The legend herself,” Sam said. “She might jump up. We’re working on it.”

“That’s fine,” Jaz gushed. “I love dogs.”

Sam unlocked the door. Xena raced away from the window and catapulted onto the porch, weaving between Jaz’s legs and lickingher hands delightedly.

“Hi, Xena,” Jaz crooned. “Your dad showed me that adorable picture of you in that duck hat on the drive here! You’re so cute,yes, you are! I’m going to take a photo of you later, everybody on Instagram has to know how adorable you are!”

Sam held back a smile as Jaz knelt to kiss Xena’s furry forehead. He hadn’t introduced Xena to anyone new in a long time.She got a lot of pats when they went out for walks, but that was usually from the same people who didn’t even have to askanymore; they just threw their arms open for Xena to leap into them.

“Was she sad?” Jaz asked as she rubbed Xena’s sides. “Was she lonely? Aw, buddy, I bet you were so hungry!”

“She was very indignant about not getting dinner,” Sam said.

Xena’s ears perked up. She swerved sideways, nosing Sam’s hand with a whine.

“I know,” Sam told her. “I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.”

She licked his wrist. He scruffed her neck with a smile. Xena had been one of the only things he’d brought with him when hecame to Claw Haven—thirty years old and able to fit his entire life in one small, shitty car. Two suitcases, a wilted houseplant,his tattoo equipment, and an excited dog in the passenger’s seat.

He looked up to find Jaz watching him, her knuckles pressed to her mouth.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said instantly. Then she shivered, and Sam remembered soothing down her goose bumps in the cold tattoo studiolast night.

“Shit,” Sam said. “Right.”

He pushed the front door wider, glancing around to check if any stray boxers were lying around that he hadn’t spotted beforehe left. The living room was still boxer-less, but it was messier than he would have liked. He cleaned up a little bit whenReg came by for dinner, but that hadn’t happened in a few weeks. The windowsills were dusty, the bookshelf was stacked highwith old mugs and sketchbooks, and the couch cushions were strewn about the floor—Xena’s work. She’d been so excited to havehim home, and then he’d left her high and dry ten minutes later. At least she hadn’t knocked over the Warhammer miniatures,which were still set up on the coffee table from yesterday morning.

Xena trotted in behind them. Sam closed the door, wondering how cold his house was to a human. Jaz still had her jacket on,rubbing her arms, keeping her touch extra light over the tattoo.

“Sooo,” she said. “How’s the hunger?”

“Fine,” Sam said automatically. It was what he said with every doctor’s visit, every time his mom asked, and every time afellow monster asked. Not that he got asked a lot. People generally learned it was a touchy subject.

“I had my potion as soon as I got home,” he added. “Just in case.”

“Oh.” Jaz frowned. “So you didn’t get enough last night? I thought—”

“No, I did,” he said hurriedly. “I just wanted to be safe.”

Jaz kept frowning. Then she shrugged as if deciding that she didn’t know enough about incubi to know if that was justifiedor not. To be fair, it probably wasn’t. Sam had never felt fuller than he had when he woke up this morning wrapped aroundJaz under that pile of jackets. But that didn’t stop him from slamming that damn potion first thing when he got home. It hadsent that same relief through him as if he really was getting rid of the hunger. As if he hadn’t already gorged himself onJaz last night and wanted to go in for seconds.

He hadn’t, of course. She’d asked if he was done, and he said yes, even though everything in him had cried out to keep going.He’d come so close to pinning her down and drinking her pleasure until she couldn’t stand it. That was what finally drovehim to stop. He might be a Monster—with a capital M—but he wasn’t a monster, draining her until he hurt her.

Xena barked. Sam reached out to calm her, but Xena shot past him toward the door, tail wagging.

Sam turned. Reg was in the doorway, dressed in tight shorts and a gym shirt that doubled as a sleep shirt that used to havethe logo of their high school football team a hundred washes ago. His tail flicked curiously behind him, his wings scrapingthe top of the doorway.

Sam cleared his throat, embarrassment rushing back in. Reg only went out in his incubus form half the time; why did he pickthis time?