***Content Warning: Just a reminder that our main character is a Incubus and this will undoubtedly raises consent issues. This is addressed later on in the novel and therefore I will not speak further on it.***
There was a knock on the door and Tae retrieves the food and places it at the small table. Tae begins eating while Deamon watches. Deamon didn’t want stew. He really hated stew, and it seemed like the only thing Tae ate. What he wanted…No, what he needed was to feed his demon half. The pain of not feeding had been growing every hour. It was at times like this that he longed for the Void and... no, he needed to put an end to that train of thought.
Tae looks at the demon tied to the bed. He picks up the plate of stew and takes it over to him. He held it to Deamon’s lip, who reluctantly drank the creamy liquid.
“It’s vile. You need to–”
“I don’t need to do anything.” He returned the plate to the tray and placed the tray in the hall. He sat back down in the small chair by the table. He crossed his arms and drifted to sleep. He hadn’t truly slept in several weeks, as he was worried for bandits and Deamon trying to run off. Here, however, he was able to relax a little.
While he slept, Deamon worked at untying the ropes. He could feel the buzz of desire wafting in from the night crowds. For weeks he’d been unable to slip out of the knots, but he was getting desperate, desperation can sometimes give you strength.
Finally Deamon is able to loosen the rope enough to slip free. He ever so quietly gets up from the bed and carefully exits the room, then down the stairs, out of the inn and into the night. It took everything to remain quiet and use stealth so that he would not be seen on his escape.
Out of the inn and free of Tae, Deamon was able to hunt. Again, if logic had its way then he would run far and fast and put as much distance between him and the bounty hunter as possible. However, logic is not an option tonight. Tonight he hunts.
He feels a malicious desire coming from an alley and draws closer to it. His experience with Tae taught him to look natural as he ventured ever closer to where the vagrant lay in wait. He appears distracted as he keeps his eyes on the other people and the buildings of the city. Success! He is grabbed and pulled into the alley. A knife appears at his throat, but this was different than with Tae. This man did not know him and therefore was unprepared. Deamon pushed desire at him. He incited the desire to grow and grow. He forced it to snake its way through the attacker.
The man was confused. This was so much more than he usually felt when taking a victim. He leans into Deamon. The knife was forgotten as it fell from Deamon’s skin. He pressed an erection into Deamon’s hip.
Deamon knew in this instant that he won. The man was his.
The mugger places his hand on Deamon’s cheek and draws him into a deep probing kiss.
Deamon feeds. He draws it out for as long as he can. Just a little more, he said to himself, but before he was satisfied, the man was dead at his feet.
Damn, Deamon thought. He had really hoped to get more out of that one before he dropped.
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