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“Uh, okay.” Where was he going with this?

Zee gulped the wine, then slammed the glass down. He sighed. And leaned forward, getting intense. “But with you, it’s different. You’re not like everyone else I’ve fucked and fed from. There’s this . . . need.”

“Oh, erm, thanks. I think?”

“I mean, with you, the need is . . .” He clenched his fist, gritted his teeth, and winced. “It’s real fucking hard not to come, okay? And there was once or twice when I . . . maybe . . . didn’t . . .” He trailed off in a mumble.

“Didn’t what?”

“Useprotection,” he muttered almost incoherently.

“Eh?”

“When I didn’t fucking use a condom, okay? It’s not usually a problem, I’m up to date, I take my health and that of my customers seriously, so I didn’t think it was a concern, and then you . . . were you, and so bright, and I fucked up.” He considered his words, and added, “Literally.”

“Oh.” I glanced around, but we were still alone. “Oh.” I sat back. “That’s okay, I’m not . . . you know. It’s fine. We should probably have talked about it before, but you can’t . . . you know . . .” I flapped a hand between us. “I mean, I can’t catch anything.”

“Yeah, okay, but as a human, you absolutely can. And I’m not talking about STDs, Kitten. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a fucking incubus. Besides being fabulous twenty-four seven, I’m also in the prime of my fucking life, and crazy potent.”

“Potent?”

He pursed his lips, and leaned forward. “I have magic sperm.”

I blinked, and for some inexplicable reason, looked down at the few stray noodles on my plate. “Magic sperm?”

“Ehhh-hmm.” His voice see-sawed. “Well, I guess they’re more like virulent little parasite bastards who will find and infect any living thing, turning it into my own personal zombie sex slave. Forever.”

I gulped. “Magic sperm sounds so much better.”

“Yeah, which is why I led with that.”

The noodles churned in my gut. It was probably still fine, but also . . . oh dear.

“This is why we were never meant to be a thing,” Zee said. “I told you, if you get fucked by a demon too many times, you lose your soul. Which is the nice way of saying I’ll turn you into my personal fuckboy.”

I still didn’t think that would ever happen, but my thoughts had gotten hung up on parasitic sperm. I shoved my plate away and dragged a hand down my face. Was it hot in here? It felt hot. My shirt had gotten all scratchy and clingy.

“And now you hate me. Look, I’ve never hidden what I am⁠—”

“No, I just need a second.” I swallowed excessive saliva. “What about all your clients at Razorsedge?”

“Kitten, everything I did there was for the client, not me. They came, I didn’t.”

“Never?”

He shrugged. “Rarely. And if I did, then I’d end up fucking myself over, because I’d have to refuse them as a mark. Like I said, master at edging—myself.”

Even my eyeballs felt hot. I fluffed my shirt away from my chest, trying to cool myself down. “I had parasite sperm in me?” Did they have . . . teeth?

“Magic sperm,” Zee corrected.

Magic. Parasitic. Sperm.

Zee’s expression turned to worry. “You’re freaking out.”

“No,” I squeaked. Then whispered, “Are they still in me?”

“No, they die real quick. Losers.”