5. Yarilo

CHAPTER FIVE

YARILO

Three days, and all I could think about was Rauri.

I'd talked him through the basics of being a demon—what to look out for in himself, how to call on his demonic aspect to protect himself in a pinch. Hells, most people, even in Passage, didn't know about our kind, so flashing a horn or a claw or a bit of fang was usually enough to get them to back the fuck off.

At first, I told myself that I was just worried about him. A baby demon on his own could be problematic. We weren't exactly out of the closet, and every time humans found out about us en masse, there were a ton of summonings and sacrifices and blood and—yeah, that just wasn't the kind of fun that I was in for.

But deep down? I knew it was more than that. I wasn't just worried about the boy, I was?—

Ugh. I was longing .

Every night at Purple Haze, I watched the door like he might come in again, all silly and awkward and chewing his lip while he considered the oh-so-overwhelming prospect of his continued survival.

The way he'd smile when he caught me staring. He was the fucking cutest, and I wanted to smother him with—not a pillow. Maybe a giant stuffed Easter bunny? Something floppy and squishy and good.

This was a mess, only made worse by the fact that he didn't come back, and it was driving me crazy.

When I finally got a text from him, I was too fast to answer. Not suave at all.

And did that matter? No. Because I wasn't seducing him; I was helping him. A swift reply was entirely appropriate.

The coffee shop was full of people, but even the warm, rich scent of coffee couldn't mask Rauri's honeyed sweetness, and all my well-laid plans for meeting in public so I could hold onto some illusion of professionalism went out the window.

From his little table, he watched as I went through the line—which yes, I forced myself to do, if only to prove that I could move in the same space as him without getting fucking weird about it.

When I sat across from him with my cayenne-and-honey latte and chocolate croissant, he bit his lip just like I'd imagined, and then there—there was that smile.

My heart definitely didn't do a little flip in my chest. I was ancient and powerful and well beyond that kind of nonsense, thank you very much.

"How are you feeling?"

Rauri sucked in his cheeks. "I don't know. Fine, I guess. Kind of hungry? Is that the right word?"

I shrugged. "It's appropriate. And socially acceptable. You can't exactly go around griping about how horny you are to just anyone, but hunger—universally relatable, even to humans."

"So . . . what do I, um, do?"

He reached up, nervously fiddling with the clip in his hair.

I stared at his quick, clever fingers, probably for a second too long. Hells, what was happening to me?

Clearing my throat, I stared down at my croissant and started pulling the flaky layers apart to get to the chocolatey middle.

"Well, first step's to find somebody willing?—"

"Are you?"

My head snapped up. "Am I?—?"

"Willing?"

"Oh . . . "

His eyes were wide behind his black-framed glasses. "I just mean, couldn't we—again... if you wanted."

I did want. But that was fucking scary. Impossible, really.

"I... Teach a man to fish?" I said, laughing at the way my voice went all tight and high pitched. "It's just... incubi can get, um, kind of intense with one another. Lot of potential for heartache, and if things go bad? Lashing out, overindulging, hurting innocent people. It'd be, uh, better if you knew how to handle yourself before risking?—"

This. This was why I'd tried to dress plain and toned down all the demonic allure. No fishnets and leather. Just... me. Yarilo. A person. Because if Rauri didn't want me, didn't think of me as some kind of sex god master of the bedroom, that'd be easier.

" Before risking?" Rauri's perfectly arched black brow crept up his forehead.

Dammit, I was a fool for leaving the opening.

I swallowed, reaching for my latte and taking one sip so spicy it burnt across my tongue before I shrugged. "I should be upfront with you. I'm sorry. I don't date incubi—it's just, you know, we're always hungry. And I get... possessive. And it's not really fair to you, or to me."

Rauri ripped a piece off his paper muffin wrapper. "I'm sorry, just to clarify, the issue is that you'd want to be monogamous?"

I tipped my head to the side. "Yes and no? I mean, for an incubus, it's not just like saying you'll fuck the same person forever. It's you'll eat the same meal. Even filet mignon's going to get old if it's the only thing you can ever have."

"I like filet mignon?—"

Shit, the sweet way he said that, looking at me through the curtain of his lashes, made my chest feel tight.

"Sure, just—it's complicated. Hard. And this is already a pretty big shift for you, which I'm supposed to be helping with. So... would you say you have game?"

"I play games?" he said, flashing a quick smile. "Kidding! I mean, I do. Play games. For work. But yeah, I've got game. Overflowing with game. Game to the max."

Oh shit, we were doomed.

And still, I couldn't help laughing.

"All right, gamer boss, then show me what you're working with." I looked at another table, where a guy had his elbow on the formica, leaning over while he scrolled his phone. He kept glancing our way. "That guy keeps looking over here. Go talk to him."

Rauri turned—not discreetly, but twisting at the waist. " That guy?"

He was young-ish, maybe a couple years out of college, but good looking, with curly brown hair and scruff on his jaw.

Rauri spun back to me. "He's probably looking at you though."

"I wouldn't be so sure. So what you do, you go up to him—don't use any magic or anything, right? You want to be fair about this to start, and you've already got some pretty major advantages against mortals, so just say hello, that you noticed him over there, and ask if he'd like to get a coffee sometime. He's here, so you already know that's something he's theoretically open to. Try that thing you do—you know, when you bite your lip—yeah, that. That's cute, and it'll make him think about what you taste like, hm?"

What Rauri tasted like was sunshine sweetness, and something bitter crawled up my throat at the idea of this stranger getting to find out for himself.

I forced a tight smile. "So just go talk to him, yeah? If it blows up in your face, don't worry about it. Not gonna let you starve. Let's just see what we're working with."

"O . . . kay?"

Rauri's smile was more like a grimace, but at my nod, he pushed out of his chair and went over to the guy's table.

He stood with his legs crossed, the balance of his weight shifting back and forth until he leaned on the table and—gods, he almost fell, catching himself at the last moment and turning bright red.

I'd never seen anything like it—an incubus both so alluring and so awkward at once. But the guy set his phone down and laughed and?—

How... how dare that man smile at Rauri like he was some kind of cream-filled delicacy to dunk in his coffee?

I was gonna claw out his hellsfucked heart ?—

I felt the ache in my jaw before I realized I was clenching it, then turned back to shoving the croissant into my mouth one enormous bite at a time, glaring at my plate and licking my finger to jam it into the crumbs and collect them all.

Rauri came back to me, and I saw the glisten of the tip of his tongue trapped between his pearly white teeth before he shut his lips and smiled.

"I did it," he announced, dropping into his seat.

He had a triumphant glow, almost radiating in his victory, and I hated it.

"I got his number."

"Good job!" My voice was filled with false enthusiasm, high and melodic. "That's great. So, you take him out. It's... I mean, hookup culture being what it is, you'll totally be able to find people who are just interested in sex, but for people who aren't? It's polite to treat them to dinner first—they're feeding you, you feed them. It balances out."

"And, uh, how do I feed from them without taking too much?—"

"Uh, you know, maybe I'll just, uh, write you an email about it? Kind of lay out the specifics."

Because no, I could absolutely not spend the afternoon talking about sex with Rauri without wanting to?—

Fuck.

"Yeah," I chirped, "so I'll do that. It's really not complicated. Just... focus on giving first. Your partner's orgasm is more than enough to?—"

Rauri's flush deepened.

"Email," I repeated. "I'll send an email."

I got up, setting my empty cup on my plate. Then, I froze, hesitant when Rauri's brow furrowed.

"You're, um, you're doing great," I said.

But me? I was a fucking mess.