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I’m in no position to care about whoever’s in the hall. For one thing, I don’t think Ricky understands that I’m not into this. For the second thing...I don’t think Ricky’s exactly human.
As the kiss goes longer, Ricky seems to get stronger and I feel more detached. All of the little things that don’t quite make sense in Pine Ridge are suddenly piling into my brain like grains of sand in an hourglass, and I can’t hold onto a single thought. They’re all too slippery, and my eyelids are too heavy, and well... I guess this isn’t going to be such a good Valentine’s Day after all.
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Milo
Ihave a glamour on, but it’s not the best. I bought one of those pre-made ones from Madge’s magic shop a long time ago, and I'm pretty sure the spell is wearing off. I look like a giant with a beer hat. A giant with a beer hat and a body hair problem.
I might do better going as I am. If Libby is really the oblivious type, her mind will sort of “slip” me into some acceptable category—such as a big, freakishly tall human with a body hair problem and questionable taste in haberdashery.
Still, for the initial introduction, maybe I’d better keep it on. Maybe it will stop her from seeing me blubber like a baby when I hand off Felix and Freddy.
With a deep breath, I knock at the door. As I wait, I rock the kittens gently inside my temporarily repurposed thermal lunch tote, which is unzipped and full of old rolled-up towels to keep them warm. I pat the small “mini bouquet” of petite peach roses that I have stuffed in the capacious pocket of my sweatshirt. If things go well, I’ll leave them with Libby as a parting gift. If things go wrong, I’ll shred them as I stomp home. Outside, the Valentine’s Day blizzard we were promised is starting. The black sky looks like static through the window at the end of the apartment hallway. The sky matches the white noise of panic and expectation inside my head as the seconds pass.
Seconds turn into minutes. No one comes to the door.
“Libby?” I call, wondering if her date went into “extra innings.” I stomp one foot reflexively, thinking about Ricky with his hands all over her, taking advantage, and then taking off.
Still no answer. But I pause as I turn away. There was a low moan. Was it the start of the howling winds that are sending snow across Pine Ridge? Or something else?
My gut feels tight. My ears, hidden under the hood of my trusty Metallica hoodie, start swiveling. I catch another faint noise, but this one is definitely coming from inside the building.
Well. Ricky and Libby might be enjoying some “quality time” together. I should go.
My tail swings angrily, free to slash and flick thanks to the special opening in the back of my jeans.
There’s a muffled noise, and I catch a male voice. No female tones. But Libby is in there. So why can’t I hear her speak?
It’s all innocent—probably.
I turn to leave, and somehow find myself facing the door with my hand against it, breathing hard. I touch the knob and it turns.
The damn thing isn’t locked.
“Libby? It’s Milo. I’ve got the kittens,” I call softly, pushing the door open enough to peer inside.
What I see has me flinging the door open wide and marching into the room, nostrils flared. I shove the tote off my shoulder as I roll up my sleeves.
Libby is slumped on the couch, pale and wasted-looking.
Ricky is standing over her, hands tangled in her hair, and he’s radiating Incubus vibes. The sexual energy hits me in the pelvis, exactly where I don’t need it. Fortunately, anger wins out over horniness.
“Ricky!” With a snort that turns both kittens into hissing dandelions with arched, puffy backs, I storm over to the sexy demon who is making a meal out of Libby. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Milo! Get lost. She’s fine.” Ricky doesn’t even try to explain. He barely looks at me, just grabbing for Libby as though he’s afraid I’ll steal his lunch money.
Damn straight, unless the lunch money says otherwise. “Libby. Libby, are you okay?” I forget about my glamour or if I look like a sideshow attraction.
Libby doesn't answer. She rocks her head toward me and I see her eyes widen.
She looks confused and scared. “Ricky, this isn’t okay,” I snarl, actually snorting like a bull in a ring.
His voice is whiny. “I’m just going to kiss her. It’s just making out. She’ll be fine.”
“Did you explain that you’re an incubus, and just kissing is enough to start draining her life force? Or that going further could let you steal a part of her soul?”
Libby’s slack body jolts slightly.
“Yeah. Not in so many words, but come on. You don’t go blurting it out like that.”
