Page 13 of Snowed In with an Incubus

Her eyes widened in understanding. “Ohhhh, it’s mostly monsters here? No wonder there are so many of you! I saw you and yourorc boss, plus those two fae trying not to get blown away when I was walking here. That was, like, four monsters in two minutes.You never see that in a tiny town.”

“That’s kind of why the town got started,” he told her, twisting a strand of curly hair around his thumb. “It started outgradual, but the mayor’s making a concentrated effort to really get it going. But it didn’t really take off until this womanwho works at the inn, Luna Musgrove, started helped him out. She really put Claw Haven on the map. Now we have loads of touristsdropping in to see what the fuss is about.”

She hummed, propping her chin on top of the shrimp tattoo. “That must be nice. Are there many incubi here?”

“Some. We don’t talk much. Except me and Reg.” Before she could ask why that was, he pointed at her plastic-wrapped arm. “Doyou have any other tattoos?”

She sat up, stretching her arms over her head. “Did you see any? You got a pretty good look at my body.”

“It was dark,” he said defensively, watching her breasts hang down in the dim phone light. She had a bruise there, too, rightbeside her left nipple. The same purple blotches marked her neck and the inside of her thighs. He hadn’t left a proper hickeyon someone since he was a teenager. Why had he suddenly turned into a wannabe vampire? All he could remember from when hemade those marks was wanting to consume her. He’d even gotten his teeth involved at some point. She had a bite mark on hershoulder, already fading.

She shivered, huddling back under the jacket pile. “Nope! Just that one. Three-year anniversary gift. He’d gotten ‘JAZ’ onhis ankle. He cried the whole time.”

Sam winced. Ankle tattoos could hurt like a bitch.

“He’ll have to turn it into something else,” Jaz continued. “Hope he cries during that, too.”

Sam thought about it. “Jazzercise.”

Her green eyes lit up, a wild grin blooming over her face. She turned to him so fast that her hair smacked him right in themouth.

“Yes,” she hissed. “That’s brilliant—oh, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said, picking hair out of his mouth.

She settled back against his chest, picking at the plastic at the edges of her tattoo. “Do you think it’s stupid?”

“I designed it,” he said. “So, no, I think it’s great. Best tattoo ever.”

“No, I mean a revenge tattoo.”

“It’s a revenge tattoo?”

She laughed bitterly, holding her arm up toward the phone light behind him. “I mean, he didn’t call me the sun as a compliment!This is totally a spite tattoo. You know. Maybe I am the sun, fuck you!”

Jaz touched the plastic again, right over one of the most prominent orange swirls. He’d added it after glancing up at herduring the design and seeing her glowering at her phone, which still refused to get any bars. He still hadn’t seen her smileat that point and had thought once more that it would knock him on his ass.

He was right. It had. It made him want to coax that smile out of her again, and again, and again. For all her talk about himglowing, she was the radiant one. He’d always been a little too cold. Hiding himself away in the dark so no one could accusehim of being too bright. She didn’t bother with that. She wore her brightness on her sleeve, shining for everyone to see.

“I think it’s nice,” he said. “Being the sun. Just gotta find someone who needs warming up.”

She smiled again, ducking her face into his chest. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel her lips against his stupid shrimptattoo.

“Speaking of warming up,” she said against his chest. “You’re a great little electric blanket. Making me sleepy.”

“You’re getting tired?”

She nodded. He breathed in, smelling it: the exhaustion of a good workout, loose-limbed and ready to pass out.

He pulled the jacket pile higher over her. “Good night, I guess.”

“G’night,” she replied, nuzzling his chest. Getting comfortable, he reminded himself as affection swept through him. It wasn’ta fond nuzzle. He was just her pillow for the night. Her heated pillow, keeping her warm in the freezing studio where theheater had been off for hours.

It didn’t take long for her breathing to even out. He rested his cheek against her curly hair, listening to the snowstormdie outside and gently stroking the marks he’d left on her hips. Incubi slept less than humans, but only a few hours less.He’d never been happier about it than right then, watching her eyelids flutter as she dreamed. He was stupidly glad that she’dcharged in here demanding an after-hours tattoo. It was better than being alone, sweating and shaking as the agonizing hungerwrecked him. This had actually been the best night he’d had in years. Unconventional, but nice. He was already missing it.

He lay there, filling his lungs with sweat and satisfaction until sleep dragged him under.

Chapter 6