Single White Incubus by E.J. Russell

Author:E.J. Russell [Russell, E.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2018-09-25T16:00:00+00:00

Quentin couldn’t seem to stop rubbing his hair with the towel, certain that he felt tiny feet scampering across his scalp. Which had to be his imagination. Didn’t it? He eyed the vials with the fleas leaping randomly inside them. They hadn’t escaped, thank all the gods and devils, because he didn’t think he could go through that again.

Although the insect incursion hadn’t been the most challenging part. Full frontal view of Ted naked? Now that was a challenge. A challenge not to rub himself against all that glorious skin, burrow into the warmth of that lovely energy, maybe even taste—

His back burned, phantom lashings more devastating than the real ones because he knew the consequences of his weakness now. I won’t. I can’t. Restraint. I’m a Bertrand-Harrington. I’m more than my impulses. I. Can. Resist . . .

He closed his eyes until his breathing leveled out. A challenge, yes, but I overcame it. For the moment. And now they had everything they needed to remove him from temptation permanently.

Before he’d gotten in the shower, Ted had shown Quentin how to use the magic phone connection app. So Quentin marched to the sofa and, backed by the sound of Ted’s humming over the cascade of water, muttered the rather peculiar incantation necessary to initiate a video call to Zeke at Supernatural Selection.

“Supernatural Sel— Oh. Mr. Bertrand-Harrington. I’ve been trying to reach you since our conversation the other day.”

“Yes, well, the reception up here is nonexistent, as is the electricity, so I’ve been unavailable. However, I wanted to let you know that we’ve collected the required elements for the escape clause ritual.”

“You have?” He blinked behind his wire-framed glasses. “That was quick.”

“We were motivated,” Quentin said dryly. “By the way, are the fleas required to be alive?”

“I don’t think—” Zeke scrabbled through the papers on his desk. “It doesn’t say. No, wait. Here it is. They can be live, but it’s not required.”

“Good.” Quentin had no desire to ride all the way to Portland with live fleas that might escape. The thought made his scalp itch again. “We’d like to make an appointment for the ritual to be completed. Would this afternoon be convenient?”

“Oh, but—” Zeke passed a hand through his curls. “That’s right. We didn’t finish our conversation. You can’t terminate yet. The contract, I mean.”

“What do you mean? We have all the required ingredients. Both of us would like to get this nightmare concluded as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, I understand, but—”

“Have you notified our intended partners of the error?”

“Yeees.” Zeke’s gaze slid away from the screen.

“I trust you made it clear that we’re doing everything we can to expedite the solution.”

“Of course. Although . . .”

“Although what?”

“Neither of them is in a particular hurry.”

Quentin’s belly tightened. Had Casimir changed his mind? Had Rusty? For some reason, the thought of Ted’s dreams being dashed was more upsetting than the notion of losing a vampire mate that he’d never even met. “They haven’t reneged, I trust?”

“Oh no no. But as I said, they’re .

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