The woman dangled from a ceiling cable with a ball gag in her mouth, her back carrying the welts and cuts of whatever torment she’d suffered. Soft red lights touched every corner of the room, illuminating all the torture devices it held: whips, paddles, cages and prods, electrostimulation devices. All seemingly normal items one would find in a proper BDSM club, except one thing—a safe word. They didn’t exist in the kind of club where Calix had ventured.

The Fallen were sick bastards.

It’d be hard to determine whether the woman—tethered at her throat to a collar, with her legs spread-eagled, her nipples clamped and arms bound behind her in a painful looking knot—had been willing to participate, or not. Asking her would be futile, since the sadist who slammed into her from behind had likely charmed her. She’d undoubtedly say she enjoyed the torture. Though, unfortunately, not every woman who ventured inside was charmed to know the difference. Some women came to the club as dolcetts—those with sick gynophasia fantasies, who didn’t realize until it was too fucking late that some species take that shit seriously.

A crowd had gathered around the room, eyes riveted on the scene that played out, which thankfully appeared to be nothing more than hardcore BDSM and rough sex. Calix couldn’t stand by and watch the guy gut her open or rip out her spine, which happened to be considered good fun for the Fallen. Jumping in to save a human would’ve thrown him into a fight with a variety of species that enjoyed the mutilation of innocents.

“I’d ask you if you want to find an empty room, but something tells me you’re not here to hook up with my kind.” The disembodied voice hit Calix from the left, and he swung his gaze toward silvery sapphire eyes that gave her kind away, and long brunette locks that fell around her shoulders. Fallen angel.

“What makes you say that?”

“Not every day a Wrath demon comes through here.” She kept her eyes locked on the scene, and Calix glanced around to see that all of the surrounding supes did the same, not at all interested in their conversation, it seemed. “Are you looking for something?”

Calix leaned in, taking in the spicy clove and mandarin orange scent that watered his mouth. “I want a fantasy,” he whispered.

Jerking her head toward the sex scene on display, she smiled. “This isn’t enticing enough for you?” For the first time, she peeled her gaze away and lifted her nose in the air, the twinkling of her nostrils telling Calix she could smell the pheromones that gave his species away. “An incubus, as well. In a club like this? You could take any species you wanted into a room, and supes would pay to watch you play.”

“I’m not interested in putting on a show. I want to watch one.”

“It won’t be cheap. I don’t do that shit for free. It depletes my energy. Makes me vulnerable.” The tickle of her fingertips dancing down Calix’s arm sent shockwaves across every nerve ending, as his body reveled in the touch he’d craved. “Easily taken advantage of.”

“I won’t lay a hand on you. You have my word. I’m just looking for some relief.”

Tipping her head, brows pinched together, she studied him. “A starving incubus? I don’t think so. Not even I’m that crazy.” As she spun away, Calix nabbed her arm, squeezing tight to her wrist as she wriggled in his unyielding grasp. “Let go of me,” she murmured. “Or I’ll make a scene that’ll have every supe in here on your ass.”

“Please.” He loosened his grip and allowed the misery to sweep over his expression. “This would set me straight again. Make things right. I’ve not reached the point of desperation.” Not quite a lie, but not entirely true.

Nibbling her lip, she eyed him up and down, and without a goddamn how ya doin, she cupped his bulge, eyes wide. “Gods in Obsidius, you’re fucking hard as stone.”

“A single fantasy. That’s all I’m asking for. Please.”

“I do this for you, you promise you won’t drain me. You won’t try to consume my soul.” She prodded a finger in his face. “’Cause I’ll tell you what, buddy. I may look harmless enough, but I can turn your fantasy into your worst nightmare with the snap of my fingers.”

“I swear to the Gods, I won’t hurt you.”

“You’ll take only what you need to get right again.”

“You have my word.”

“I’m only doing this because you’re hot. You realize that, right?”

“Sure.” Her grip on his hand prompted Calix to follow the female through the crowd, down a dark corridor to a staircase. His whole damn body came alive at the thought that he’d soon be looking at what his mind could take as a lifelike image of Ava. She’d be as much flesh and blood as his brain could possibly project, and considering Calix had nearly every piece of her committed to memory, it’d be like staring at the real thing.

Beyond a heavy door, the girl led him deeper into the basement of the building, where the pipes radiated heat that left a damp humidity clinging to the air and the stench of mold assaulted Calix’s nose.

“What’s your name?” he asked, taking in the tight skirt that clung to her curves. Not even that could trample the excitement that he’d soon see Ava.

A quick glance over her shoulder, and Calix just caught the roll of her eyes. “Does it matter? I’m not your fantasy, right?”

“You read my mind.”

“This female must be something special for you to go through all this trouble. Nephilim, huh? That sucks.”

“How so?”

“’Least I chose to be this way.” Hands on her hips, she came to a stop at the back corner of the basement, where a couch, empty bottles of Elysia, a sleeping bag, and a pair of Beats were scattered around.

“You live down here?”

“No, I come down here to knit when I’m feeling particularly crafty. Yeah, I live down here. Temporarily, until I find my own place.”

“Camped out in the basement of a nightclub owned by the Fallen? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were hiding out.”

Ignoring his comment, she nodded toward the couch. “Get comfy. I’m only an observer. If you want, I can give you privacy, but it’d be no different than you making up the fantasy in your own head. Or I can embody her and it’ll be more real.”

“I want you to embody her.” Fortunately, embodiment only happened within the fantasy, so she’d essentially be commandeering the thoughts that Ava might have in the scene. It’d be Ava’s body. Ava’s face. But the girl would be something like a puppet master, pulling the strings. As long as she didn’t destroy it by saying something un-Ava-like, it’d be damned close to the real deal. “No talking, all right?”

“No talking. Now lose the clothes, pretty boy.”

Unclasping his jeans, Calix watched her light up a cigarette. “So, what’d you do?”

“For what?”

“You said you chose this life. What’d you do?”

Drawing in a long inhale, her eye squinted, before she blew the smoke off to the side. “Secrets. I gave them away to the wrong person.”

“What kind of secrets?”

“They wouldn’t be called secrets if I told you, would they?”

“You already gave them away, so what does it matter?” He tossed the jeans onto the couch and unbuttoned his shirt.

“I have certain gifts. I trusted someone I shouldn’t have. Now, unless you want me to record you jacking off and upload that to a porn site, no more questions. Capisce?”

Calix was surprised she’d offered as much as she had, which told him she happened to be one of those chatty females—something that could very well annihilate the whole experience he sought.

“Gods of sin, what the hell are you dealing in fantasy for?” Her gaze roved his body from where she stood with the cigarette dangling at her fingertips. “A body like that, you could feed yourself for the next millennia. Bitches would kill for that.”

“Please. No talking, okay?”

“Rightio. It’ll be a thousand argentumus. Paid upfront.” Her chin lifted as it should have, asking that much from him. Argentumus, the currency of Obsidius, essentially equated to souls paid to the underworld.

He didn’t have to pull it from a wallet, or a bank. If he’d paid enough souls throughout the centuries, the money would merely appear at his request. The paper itself acted only as a physical transfer of contract. Essentially souls paid to the underworld released to a new owner. Flipping his palm, he studied the way her eyes sparkled with interest, when the cash materialized in his hand with all seven demon princes represented on a single bill. “I doubt anyone else would pay such an outrageous amount. Something to keep in mind if you intend to stay in business.”

She snatched it from his palm, tucking it into her pocket. “Yeah, well, considering you could easily end me today … and I doubt it’s as risky an investment for you. ’Sides, it’s not like I’m living the high life here.”

Stood in nothing but his boxer briefs, Calix glanced around, taking in her sad and sorry little space.

“Thais.” With her non-cigarette toting hand, she scratched the back of her head, while Calix’s brows pinched to a frown. “I saw the question still sitting at the back of your head. My name is Thais.”

“Thanks,” Calix said, falling back onto the couch. “What do you see when I’m doing this?”

“Only what’s projected. Don’t worry, I can’t see you doing your … thing, if that’s what you’re worried about. When I embody, all I see is what’s in your head. I told you, I don’t like doing it. Makes me feel vulnerable.”

“I won’t let anything happen.”

“Then, let’s get started.” She put out the cigarette in a big red plastic cup and took a deep breath, squinting her eyes closed. When she opened them again, a magnetic swirl of blue and silver drew Calix to stare.

His instincts battled it, knowing all too well that such a thing had gotten his kind killed for centuries. A Fallen’s charms happened to be their strongest weapon, and Calix could feel the energy radiating along the space that separated them.

“Relax,” she whispered. “Think of her.”

Calix turned his mind to Ava, as she instructed, and immediately, the scene around him morphed into his bedroom, as he lay on the bed, watching the shadowed figure stalk across the room. His eyes feasted on every curve that lined the familiar body edging toward him. Muscles hardening, he stroked a sweating palm up and down his shaft, as she sunk a knee into the mattress at the end of the bed.

“Come to me, Ava,” he whispered. “I’ve missed you.”

Licking her lips, her gaze trailed downward, to his hand sliding along his shaft, and she crawled toward him, her voluptuous tits begging to be squeezed. She planted a kiss to his thigh and dragged her stiffened nipples across his cock, stopping to set another kiss to the V above his groin. Instead of climbing farther, she dipped her head and licked the small bit of fluid leaking from his tip, lapping it up as if she were thirsty for it.

“Fuck!” Calix, flexed his ass, lifting his hips from the bed as her tongue coaxed dark fantasies from the depths of his mind. “Ava, please.” Not even the tight squeeze of his cock could calm the sudden urges beating through every muscle in his body and begging him to throw her onto the bed. He tangled his fingers through the long pin-straight hair that slid across his skin like strands of silk. Exactly as he remembered. Her skin crossed his like satin caught in his palm, and plump lips clamped down over the head of his cock.

“Feels so fucking good, baby. I needed you so bad. No one else. Only you.” He circled his hips, thrusting upward into her mouth as she took him the way she always had. The way Calix had obsessed over for months. Gods, he wanted to pound into her, feel her tight pussy contract around him.

Why not? It was his fantasy, after all.

He rolled on top of her, slapping at her hip to direct her onto her hands and knees.

She complied, resting her head against the mattress, which put her pussy on full display for him.

Calix bent forward, his tongue following the crease of her ass down to her pussy, and he closed his lips around her flesh, sucking her there.

With a quiet moan, she bucked forward, and her fingers curled into the sheets.

If he didn’t fuck her right then, he’d probably combust into flames.

“I need to do this now, baby. Right now.” He slid into her, watching the curve of her spine deepen as she arched her back.

“Gods!” The sound of her voice was oddly similar to Ava’s and a smile tugged the corner of his mouth.

His whole body sank into each thrust as waves of calm and pleasure shot like bullets through his nerves. Head kicked back, Calix slowed his hips to a lazy roll and savored the warmth of her silken walls as his cock expanded inside of her, stretching her with every drive.

Her quiet whimper drew his attention back to the dip in her spine where sweat pooled. He slid his hands from her hips to the edges of her back and plunged into her balls deep.

“How’s that feel, baby?” he asked, grinding his cock.

When she turned her head to the side, though, a zing of panic washed over him. The face wasn’t Ava’s. Pin-straight black hair had morphed into the cascading curls of Thais.

He pulled out of her, gripping tight to his swollen cock, and squinted in pain as the promise of climax faded. “What the fuck?”

His bedroom fizzled like smoke around them, into the dark and dirty basement, as Thais lay across the room on the floor in front of him, skirt drawn up to her hips, her sleeping bag crinkled around her.

“What the fuck did you do?” Calix stumbled on his knees toward her, his entire body shuddering with the pain of his still-hard cock.

“I’m sorry!” Thais kicked herself back, eyes wide with panic. “I must’ve … I just got carried away! You felt …. I’m sorry!”

Falling forward, Calix held himself up on one arm, the flames of tension seething through his veins. He needed to come. If he didn’t, he’d turn. He’d drain the woman in front of him and every other woman in the place. And they’d let him. They’d fall at his feet like demon sacrifices, thanks to his pheromones.

“You have to finish. I can see it … you’re turning. Please, let me help you.”

“No!” Calix roared, but as much as his mind urged him to get away from her, his body wouldn’t move.

“I won’t touch you. No fantasy.” She tipped her head, eyes narrowing as she continued to study him. “Your scars. I didn’t notice before.” A quick glance at his eyes, and hers trailed back to his throat, while the marks of his collar had undoubtedly begun to poke through the redness of his skin. It happened whenever Calix reached the point of starvation, a hunger he hadn’t suffered in centuries. “You were a slave.” Her brows creased as flickers of his past zipped through his mind. Flickers she could surely see. Chains. Demortis. Hellsfire. “What did they do to you?”

“Enough!” Calix growled, lurching toward her. Fury, the kind that held no meaning but only crazed thoughts of pain, slammed inside his head and set his bones aflame. He could snap the female’s neck, watch her eyes turn from curiosity to the vacancy of absolute death. “I should kill you for what you did just now.”

Again, his body begged him to get out of there, but he remained paralyzed on all three’s, his left hand gripped tight around his throbbing shaft.

“Feshjule!” He shook violently as his needs swarmed his mind, threatening to overpower the last threads of self-control that kept him from tackling the female and turning her the fuck out.

“It was just a fantasy. We didn’t really—”

“I don’t give a fuck! It felt real!” Another zap of pain hit his groin, and he curled into it as shards of broken glass rolled inside his stomach. “Ah, fuck!”

A soft chant reached his ears, spoken in the ancient tongue Calix knew from his youth. His head grew dizzy, the room spinning around him, and he rested his forehead against the soft cotton sleeping bag. Warmth spilled into his veins, like lying a cozy bed with Ava in his arms, and his entire body suddenly drained. He lazily rubbed his hand along his shaft, so relaxed and content, he didn’t want the feeling to end. For the first time in months, jacking off felt fucking good. So good, his spine tingled with a warning. Head pressed into the concrete, he stroked faster, fingers curled into the sleeping bags.

The chanting grew louder, faster, more staccato than before. His senses filled with the heady aroma of warm pussy, watering his mouth as if he could damn near taste it on his tongue. Fuck, yeah. Fuck, yeah. Fuck, yeah.

His muscles tensed up, body trembling as the orgasm made a slow climb along his spine. Balls drawn tight, Calix opened his mouth to a silent roar, and with the first shot of climax, his ass lifted, back bowed up while he rode out the explosion of ecstasy that hit the back of his skull.

“Fuck! Gods, fuck!” His hand still slipping along his cock, his muscles tightened and trembled. Another pleasure blast exploded behind his eyes with a second climax, and the small pulses that followed beat out a third and a fourth. An incubus could come as many as a dozen times in one round of sex, which was why females generally ended up pregnant if they happened to be bonded. A demon, though, rarely ejaculated unless bonded, or tricked. Only the slick pre-cum lubed his strokes as Calix slowed them. Finally abandoning his cock, he breathed hard, still bent over himself on the floor.

“Gods of Obsidius, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

Calix finally lifted his head to Thais, as she sat with her legs crossed and trembling. Only then did he notice the swirls of black ink along her neck—demonic symbols associated with black magic. “What did you do?” He spoke in a dry, husky voice that didn’t quite match the calm and serenity washing over him.

“Just something to ease you a bit. Sort of like a demon cure for impotence.” Her eyes widened as she sucked in a gasp. “Not that you’re impotent. It just helps you relax.”

“How?” Even he could tell it was temporary, by the way his muscles flickered with tension again. He’d starved himself for too long to get relief from a single jacking off, but it was the best he’d felt in months.

She shrugged. “Just something I do.” Her knees knocked together and Calix could see she struggled to keep her legs closed—an effect of watching an incubus come. The final pheromones during climax worked like Viagra for women, turning them submissive, pliant, and sex worked like a powerful weapon for the incubi. The female had begun to succumb as her ass ground into the sleeping bag. “Gods, I need to come so bad right now.”

Pushing off the floor, Calix rose to a stand and slid his shirt on, followed by his jeans and boots, until fully dressed once more, staring down at her. “I’m sure you’ll find relief upstairs,” he said, striding back toward the staircase.

Had he finished her, she’d be satisfied for days, but after the shit she pulled earlier, Calix couldn’t give a damn if she writhed in pain. He shouldn’t have trusted her. The Fallen were tricky, and it sucked that he’d become so desperate as to seek one out.

“Please!” Her voice echoed through the basement as he made his way back to the staircase. “I helped you! Please don’t leave me like this.”

She hadn’t helped him, though. Had he come inside Ava, or at least the Ava in his head, his body would’ve taken it as the real deal. He would’ve been good for a while. Unfortunately, he’d gotten a taste of sex with another woman—something he’d tried to avoid for months. Because his dick suddenly remembered how fan-fucking-tastic it felt to be inside a female.

And the next time his cravings hit, he could damn well take what he wanted by force.