“Not at all, actually.” He takes a step closer until his body blocks out the others. “You might find this hard to believe, but I understand what you’re going through.”
I snort cynically, giving him a lingering once-over. “You had words carved into your skin as well?”
“No.” He shakes his head sadly. “But I know what it’s like to be feared and hated because of what type of monster you are.”
Guilt instantly suffuses me as I stare into his golden-flecked eyes. A century of sadness peers back at me, swallowing me whole.
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I say instantly, ducking my head.
“I didn’t even understand what was happening,” he continues. “One second, everything was normal, and the next, I was here. In the upper levels. Unable to interact with the rest of the world.” His tone is laced with pain—so much pain, that my heart aches for him. When he moves to sit on the ground, long legs extended, I don’t hesitate before sitting next to him, wrapping my pinkie around his.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I whisper, gauging his reaction carefully. His beautiful face is tightened in pain, the lines around his mouth harsh and unforgiving. When he catches me staring, he flashes me a half-hearted smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“It’s fine,” he assures me. “If you’re going to be friends with a monster, you might as well know his story.” He glances towards the others, who are congregated beside one of the larger tombstones, far enough away where they can’t overhear our conversation but still close enough they can keep an eye on me. “I won’t tell you Barret’s story—that’s his choice—but I will tell you mine. If you want to hear it, that is.”
“Yes.” When he begins to fidget, I brush my pinkie over his lightly, stilling his movements. “But the same goes for you. You don’t have to tell me anything, Cal, if you don’t want to.”
Heaving out a breath, Cal runs his fingers through his wispy pink hair, the strands sticking out in all directions.
“The rumors are true, you know. About Cupid.” He snorts once. “Not about being a baby who wears diapers and shoots arrows. As you can see, I’m very much a grown-ass man.” With a dramatic flourish, he gestures towards his sculpted body that exudes raw sex. “As an incubus, I need lust to survive, but I’m also part fairy, believe it or not.” He gestures towards his red wings sprouting from his back. “Of the Summer Court, actually. And they? They require love.”
We’re both silent for a minute, listening to the melodic wind rattle the tree branches and caress the gravestones.
“So you’re half fairy and half incubus?” I question, staring at Cal in a newfound light. That would explain the wings. The only other incubus I know is Dimitri Gray, and unless I’m missing something, that man doesn’t have any on his body.
Not that I’ve seen his body naked.
Not that I’ve imagined it naked.
Naked Dimitri. Nope. Not going there.
“Correct.” He bites down on his lower lip. “I discovered early on that I could survive on either one—lust or love. I didn’t need both.” I watch in rapt fascination as he grabs a blade of grass and rubs it between his fingers, the gesture absent-minded.
I don’t push him to continue his story. I can see that whatever he’s about to tell me is going to be hard on him. These are his demons, his ghosts, coming back to haunt him. They’re crawling through the earth and pressing their keen claws into his ankles. He can either fight their hold or allow them to drag him under.
“I also discovered that I can manipulate those two feelings,” he continues, voice devoid of any emotion. “I can make people fall in love as well as create immeasurable lust. I thought I was helping people…enhancing what they already felt. It was a win-win, you know? I made them fall helplessly in love with each other, and I used that love to feed myself. I would go through towns and send out waves of love and lust. It made people happy, and I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“But…?” I ask softly, and he finally rips his gaze away from the abused grass.
“But the monster world didn’t see it like that.” He releases a ragged sigh and turns to face me completely, shifting slightly. “Some of the communities I impacted were strictly monster communities. As such, the monsters saw fit to act on their inner desires, despite the fact that mating bonds usually only happen between monsters of the same species. Werewolves would mate with vampires. Ghouls with zombies. Witches with incubi. You get the idea. I didn’t know it at the time, but I wasn’t just making monsters fall in love. I was finding people’s soulmates.”
I gasp harshly. “You mean…?”
“Monsters who shouldn’t have mates suddenly found theirs,” he finishes. “True love and all that shit.” Throwing his head back, he releases a self-deprecating laugh, the noise rattling my ribs and my teeth. It’s a harsh, cold sound, and such a contrast to the warm man I first befriended back in detention.
“And then you ended up here,” I whisper in growing horror, but Cal shakes his head.
“No. First, they murdered my family to ensure this would never happen again. My baby sisters. My mom and dad. Even my aunts and uncles and cousins.” Pain emanates from his gaze, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to give him a hug.
Oh, fuck it.
Leaning forward, I wrap my arms around Cal’s neck in a desperate embrace, his heart thumping beneath my own.
“Cal, I’m so fucking sorry.”
“They saw me as something they could use,” he whispers, his arms hanging limply by his sides. After a moment, he timidly hugs me back, hungry for love and affection after years spent in his prison. “So they made me come here, to train me. At first, I was a normal student, just like you, but when I began to fight back, they shoved me in the upper levels.” His voice turns choked, as if he’s overcome by a strong emotion. “I’ve been alone for so long.”
“You won’t be alone anymore, Cal,” I promise, pulling back so I can stare into his glimmering eyes. Gently, I brush back strands of his unruly pink hair in desperate need of a trim.
He tries to laugh, but the noise is bitter and angry—a product of all he has endured. “You promise? I’m way too beautiful to be alone.”
I snort out a laugh at his attempt at a joke. “You’re right, pretty boy. Way too beautiful.” Worrying my fleshy bottom lip, I query, “How long have you been up there? In detention, I mean?”
His face hardens, twisting into an unreadable mask hewn from stone.
“Two hundred and fifty-seven years. This is the second time in over one hundred that I have been able to feel the sunlight on my face. Normally, I’m only released every Halloween night.” He arches his neck, eyes closed, as he soaks up the blistering rays. “Feel the grass beneath my fingers.” He tugs a second strand out of the ground and holds it up for me to see. “Hear laughter and joy.” As if on cue, my men break into raucous laughter a short distance away. “Feel the wind on my face.” His eyes close once more as pure bliss erupts on his face.
“Cal…”