“I don’t want anyone else.” Daka knew this argument had grown stale. His mother and sister couldn’t understand. Keeping only one lover was against their nature.
The salty sea breeze floated in from the courtyard through open doors. Outside, the sun shone brightly, birdsong filled the warm air, and life went on as if Daka’s heart wasn’t broken to pieces.
Niya halted her endless pacing to sigh dramatically. “What’s so special about this Muha, anyway? Does he have thick fingers? An extra cock? What?” Her tail whipped high then thudded the floor for emphasis.
“Mahu,” Daka corrected. The name still felt special on his lips, even though the man himself had forbid him from using it. “He is smart and kind. He taught me to make papyrus and promised to teach me how to swim. He has sad eyes, but they looked on me with hope…until they didn’t.”
The horror in Mahu’s gaze had been burned into Daka’s memory, twisted with fear and anger. All his fault. Mahu hadn’t deserved such a shock.
“Incubi don’t swim,” said Medit, missing the point entirely.
Daka glanced to her face, and though sorrow sat heavy in his gut, he had to grin at her expression. Brows scrunched together, lips pressed to a thin line of distaste, and amethyst eyes glazed over with a distinct lack of understanding, she’d never be able to fathom why someone would willingly submerge themselves in the river.
A trickle of pathetic laughter escaped his lips. “I don’t think it’s as terrible as you imagine.”
Not for the first time, his mother looked at him as if he were alien and not her own flesh and blood. She scowled. “Swimming? Dakarai, really.”
Niya stepped in. “You’ve changed the topic. Daka, you need to eat.”
Despite the guilt he felt for worrying his family, he couldn’t overcome the soul-deep longing only Mahu could quench.
“I wish I could eat without…you know.”
“Feed without sex?” Medit cupped his jaw in her palm and turned his face to hers. “You know that’s impossible. Your human side has given you an independent streak I could never have predicted, but the incubus in you needs lovers. Let me—”
“No.” Daka knew where this was headed. The last thing he needed was for his mother to go find him a couple of boyfriends to play with. He sat, tucking his feet beneath himself and curling his tail around his waist. “I’ll do it on my own.”
“When?”
“Tonight,” Daka huffed, giving in. “When the townsmen get off work and go drinking.”
Medit patted his knee. “Take Temaj with you. He’s lonely without Solon.”
Daka fought the urge to roll his eyes. Temaj—a vampire who stayed with them from time to time as it suited his travels—was on his own while his sire Solon attended some secret gathering they weren’t supposed to know about. Daka hadn’t paid the story much attention. But he and Temaj were both alone here. At least Temaj could trust Solon to come back for him. Daka had made certain Mahu would never want to see him again.
“I’ll ask him when he wakes.”
“There’s a good boy,” said his mother, but Niya was less impressed.
“You’d better return with the color back in your cheeks and the scent of come on your skin, or I swear Daka, I’ll pick someone for you myself.”
Daka bit his cheek to stop himself from arguing. Niya meant well. She just didn’t understand.
None of his family did.
* * *
Temaj, a tall, silent figure at his side, moved with the feline grace of a street cat. Daka may as well have been a tottering oaf next to him, plodding along to reluctantly fulfill the promise he’d made. At least no one would notice him with Temaj around. His honey-colored tresses hung in waves around his shoulders and halfway down his back, marking him as foreign among all the silken dark hair of the people here. If that didn’t set him apart, the sway to his hips and his lovely arching back would.
Daka had known Temaj his whole life—he and Solon were friends of his mother—but he’d never spent much time with the man alone. And he’d certainly never gone hunting with him. Temaj was like an indulgent uncle, the kind who brought gifts from distant lands, asked what books he was reading, then hugged him before disappearing on his next adventure.
Their food, though, shared similarities. Namely, it had to come from someone else. Temaj drank blood, and Daka…Daka didn’t want to think about what he needed to do in order to eat. The act had never bothered him, he’d always relished sex, but he’d never wanted one man above all others before this. Now that all he could think about was Mahu, he found the idea of seducing a stranger distasteful.
“Why so quiet?” asked Temaj, his soft voice crystal clear even amongst the crowded street.
“Sorry. I know I’m miserable company.” Daka glanced to him, and Temaj met his gaze with big, golden-brown eyes. “You’re welcome to split off.”
Temaj linked their arms, his skin cold against Daka’s warmth. An expression of pity crossed his features. “I didn’t mean to imply you’re poor company, only that you’re unusually quiet. Do you want to talk about him?”
