0.5-The Asylum Interviews: Bronx: An Asylum Tales Short Story (2 page)

C
HAPTER
T
WO

P
arker wasn’t at the new nightclub that was heating up Main Street in Low Town, so we moved on to his favorite karaoke bar and dance club further down the street. The bouncer at the door refused to tell me if he’d seen the incubus, preferring that we pay the cover to get in and then discover the truth for ourselves. But a dark look from Bronx as he stepped closer squeezed the right information out of the man. The troll was definitely starting to come in handy.

“What does he look like?” Bronx demanded as he leaned closer so he could be heard over the pounding music.

“Tall, blond,” I started and then frowned as I scanned the crowd. “Just look for the largest crowd of women and he should be in the middle. He’s a freaking incubus.”

“Oh,” Bronx murmured as he straightened next to me. We didn’t have to wait long. Standing at the back of the club, we heard the karaoke DJ call Parker’s name. The handsome man went bounding up to the stage to squeals of delight from at least twenty women, who were now dancing, jumping, and wriggling in excitement before the stage. Good grief, he worked fast! We couldn’t have been separated for more than an hour and he already had the female population at the bar worked into a frenzy.

“Do you want to grab him now?” Bronx asked.

I shook my head. “Nah. Let’s just wait until after the song is done and then grab him. I really don’t want to wade through that mob to try to get him. We’ll get lynched.”

“I can get him.”

I laughed as I patted him on the shoulder. “No, I don’t think even a troll would be safe in there.” Women worked into a froth over a sexy incubus in a nightclub wouldn’t hesitate to tear a troll apart if necessary no matter how big he was. We walked over to an empty table at the back of the club and watched as Parker sang a version of “Closer” that would have made Trent Reznor blush. Women screamed and gyrated. It got worse as Parker stepped off the stage and pushed his way to the middle of the dance floor where the women crowded even closer, making it impossible to see him. But the music pulsed on and his voice never wavered.

From the dance floor, the screams and cries of some of the women grew louder. I closed my eyes and looked away. It was like being a voyeur at an orgy. Not my kind of thing, particularly when my friend was in the middle of it.

Bronx cleared his throat, causing me to look up at him. “You said he’s an incubus?”

“Yes.”

“He wouldn’t . . . ? I mean to say this is a public place, so he wouldn’t . . .”

“Fuck a woman on the dance floor? Yes, and it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“But the dates of some of these women are waiting at the edge of the dance floor.”

“Trust me, that won’t stop him.” I tried to smile at my companion, feeling bad that he had come along for this. “You can hang back. I’m keeping an eye on the crowd. If a guy makes a move toward him, I’ll head in.”

“I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks, but I’m not too worried. It’s unlikely he’ll actually screw someone, particularly since he’s still singing. He just needs to get the woman to orgasm and he’s talented enough to do it with his dick in his pants.”

Bronx grunted as he stared at the undulating crowd in front of him. As the music died down, so did the screams and moans. With the last beats, Parker climbed back onto the stage, where he bowed to enthusiastic applause before handing the microphone back over to the DJ. Bronx and I were already out of our seats and approaching the crowd, waiting to see which direction he would choose.

I was somewhat grateful when I saw that Parker was headed toward Bronx and had yet to see me. I was afraid that if he saw me, he would make a dash for it, using all the excited women as a shield. The troll clamped a hand on Parker’s elbow as he tried to walk past, and started to escort him toward the door as I caught up.

“What the hell?” Parker shouted, trying to pull his arm loose.

“It seems we have something to talk about,” I said as I came up beside him.

The incubus jerked his head around to look at me. He didn’t look as pale as he had when we first met at my shop. In fact, his face had a nice flush to it and his eyes now twinkled with fresh life. Things were worse than I had initially feared.

“Gage! You’re here!”

“No kidding,” I murmured to his inane comment.

The bouncer stepped away from the door as we exited the nightclub, his mouth hanging open, but wisely silent. I followed as Bronx dragged my dear friend to a nearby alley and shoved him against the brick wall. Parker stumbled a step before catching himself. I waited long enough for him to straighten his clothes and turn to face me before I punched him in the nose. His head snapped back, hitting the brick wall.

“What the hell?” Parker said, rubbing the back of his head with one hand, covering his bloody nose with the other.

“That’s for fucking drugging me and dumping me in the ladies’ room!”

Parker accepted a clean handkerchief from Bronx, but kept his eyes locked on me. “What? I left you at our table so Dolan could keep an eye on you. You must have wandered in on your own.”

“Well, you still deserved it for drugging me.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Parker mumbled as he leaned against the wall behind him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having problems with Jill?”

His head popped up and he lowered the stained handkerchief from his face. “You knew?”

The last of my anger seeped from my frame and I stared at one of the few people I counted as a friend. Worry swirled in my stomach as I looked at him. “When you drug your friend so you can escape for a night of sex and seduction, I can guess what’s going on. You also didn’t look too good when you came into the shop. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Parker’s gaze jumped from me over to Bronx, who was standing in the shadows of the alley behind me. He had been silent through the entire exchange, making it easy for me to forget that he was there.

“Sorry, Parker, this is a new friend of mine, Bronx. He helped me back at the Cock’s Crow when I was still recovering,” I quickly introduced. “He’s a good guy.”

The incubus nodded. I didn’t miss the somewhat surprised look on the troll’s face as I glanced over my shoulder at him. I had vouched for him as a good friend of mine and I barely knew him. Sometimes, I got a feeling about a person. With Bronx, I didn’t have to worry. Sure, he might have something in his past or some ugly vice, but there wasn’t a person in this world that didn’t. And I felt confident that Bronx’s secrets weren’t half as bad as the types of things I was trying to hide.

“Maybe we should get going,” Bronx suggested.

“Sounds good,” I said, looking over at the troll before turning my attention to Parker. “Are you done?”

“And if I wasn’t? Would you let me stay?” Parker asked, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Shoving a hand through my short brown hair, I gave a little laugh. “If you’re asking whether I would choose Jill’s happiness or your health, I’d go with your health. If you needed to, I’d let you go and I’d go in to watch your back.”

Parker flashed me a sickly smile before heading back out of the alley, with Bronx and me following. “Let’s head back to Asylum. You’ve still got a bottle of Jameson there, right?”

“Out. We drank it for the autumn equinox,” I said with a sigh, but quickly brightened. “But I
do
have a bottle of Mordred stashed.”

Parker jerked to a stop and turned to face me in shock. “Svartálfar whiskey?”

“Don’t get too excited. It’s not much over one hundred years old,” I warned, trying to tone down his expectations as I pulled my keys out of my pocket. Mordred was extremely hard to get ahold of if you weren’t a Svartálfar, but even then, the stuff wasn’t top-shelf until it crossed the two-century mark.

“But we are talking dark elf brew,” Parker pressed.

“Fresh ink?” Bronx inquired.

I paused by the driver’s side door of my gas-guzzling SUV, once again grateful that I drove it. Considering Bronx’s size, the car was coming in handy for more than my usual camping trips. I tapped the remote, unlocking the doors. “Yep.”

“What’s he mean?” Parker asked, getting in the car behind the driver’s seat.

“It means that tattoo artists sometimes get paid in items other than legal tender,” I said with a grin as I got in the car. I looked over at Bronx, who was now sitting in the passenger’s seat. “A dwarf came in a couple months ago for some ink. I got the impression that the dwarf did some weapons work for a dark elf and got paid in a full case of Mordred. Are you in?”

“Of course. Haven’t had Mordred in years,” Bronx said with a grin.

I
nstead of trying to find a comfortable spot to get drunk in the tattoo parlor, I directed Parker and Bronx to the second floor apartment from which I had recently moved. I had left some furniture behind because it was heavily worn and I had a feeling that I would still crash in this apartment from time to time due to the occasional drinking binge. We were all on our second glass of Mordred, letting the burning liquid blaze through our veins before I directed the conversation back around to why Parker had drugged me in the first place.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you and Jill were having problems?” I demanded following an extended silence.

Parker was stretched out on the floor, propped up on his elbows, while Bronx and I were lounging on the sagging couch. “We’re not. I mean, there’s nothing wrong between us. It’s just . . . I don’t know if I can do this much longer.”

“Do you still care for her?” Bronx gently asked.

“I love her!” Parker surged into an upright position, folding his legs before him. “I love her more than anything in the world. She’s sweet and funny and so damn perfect. I love her, but this relationship is killing me, literally.”

Bronx sat forward a little, resting his forearms on his knees. “What do you mean?”

“She can’t keep up anymore?” I said.

Parker shook his head, looking down at his half-empty plastic cup. With a heavy sigh, he downed the last of the Mordred and gave a little shudder as it burned its way down his throat.

“Incubi aren’t made for monogamous relationships, particularly the type that humans are so infatuated with,” I explained to Bronx when Parker remained silent. “With few exceptions, a single human can’t keep up with what they need.”

“So you’re not getting enough sex,” Bronx guessed.

“It’s not like that!” Parker growled, pushing to his knees so that he could get in Bronx’s face. I lurched forward, placing one hand on Bronx’s shoulder and one on Parker’s chest. The troll hadn’t moved and I didn’t think the alcohol had completely clouded Parker’s judgment, but I wasn’t willing to take a chance that he’d suddenly become stupid.

“Easy, Parke. He’s just trying to understand.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound insulting,” Bronx added in a calm voice.

“No problem,” Parker murmured, sitting down again.

My heart moved back out of my throat as I returned to my seat and picked up my cup so I could drain it. The alcohol was going to my brain, but I could at least crash here.

“The truth is that my race doesn’t survive off sex,” Parker softly volunteered. “It’s actually the orgasm from our partner that we feed on. But we do need that, and frequently, or we start to get sick and weak. Too long and the craving starts affecting our decision-making process. An out-of-control incubus or succubus can be dangerous.”

“And Jill couldn’t keep up,” I said flatly.

“It wasn’t her fault,” Parker snapped, but the fight quickly went out of him. “She’s always known what I am and knew what it meant, but she still wanted to keep this a closed relationship. I love her so much. I had to agree.”

“May I ask what happened?” Bronx prodded.

Parker shrugged. “Same thing that seems to happen in all the relationships I’ve watched. Time. Like any new couple, we started out strong. She had no problem keeping up with what I required to live. But then she got a new job and we moved into a new apartment together. I think stress caused her to slow down sexually. It was a little physically uncomfortable, but she’s worth a little discomfort. But then she caught a really bad cold last week, and . . . it’s been a week, Gage! A fucking week since I fed last from her!”

“Have you told her?”

“She knows,” Parker said, grabbing his longish blond hair with both hands. “She knows and she feels guilty. I think that’s why she suggested that I go out with you tonight. I think she was trying to give me permission, but it’s probably killing her.”

“If that’s the case, why the hell did you drug me?” I shouted.

“Because Jill was your friend before we started dating. You were against the relationship before it started because you said it wouldn’t work. I didn’t think you’d let me go out and pleasure other women, knowing that it was going to hurt Jill.”

I flopped back against the sofa and stared up at the cracked and water-stained ceiling. The truth was that I had seen this coming for more than a year and I had been secretly hoping that Parker would find a way to wear her down so that she wouldn’t be so set on a closed relationship. While Parker might not understand them, he’d been willing to try to make Jill happy. I did have a preference for monogamous relationships when I bothered to try to date someone, but incubi aren’t built for them.

“Both you and Jill are my friends. I’m not going to sacrifice your health for her happiness. She might be hurt that you’re seducing other women, but it’s going to hurt her a lot more if she knows that you’re suffering, particularly if you’re suffering because of her.”

“Thanks,” Parker said.

Bronx shifted on the couch next to me, leaning forward so that he could put his cup on the scarred coffee table. “Did you get what you needed at the club?”

“Yes, got six before you dragged me out of there.”

My head popped up and I narrowed my gaze on Parker. “You got six different women to orgasm while you sang that damn song?”

“And I only touched two of them,” he bragged. “You want to know how I did it?”

“Yes,” Bronx said.

“No!” I snapped at the same time. “You make it hard on the rest of us that don’t have your magical incubus sex powers.”