Praise for the writing of Raine Weaver
Incubus
Raine Weaver's Incubus is an enticing and titillating tale of suppressed longing awakened to
glorious life. This story is seduction at its finest with sexual tension that sizzles like a drop of
water on a hot pan. Gabriel is an alluring, sexy and irresistible hero who will invade your
dreams making you breathless for more.
-- Cher Gorman, author of Wolf Island (coming soon from Loose Id)
Raine Weaver makes the reader believe in love. The passion burning between Sera and
Gabriel is hot. Whether in dreams or reality, Incubus brings fantasy to life.
-- Tiffany Aaron, author of Beltaine s Angel (coming soon from Loose Id)
Once I met Serafina s mysterious dream lover, I couldn't scroll fast enough to satisfy my
curiosity. Incubus kept me in suspense until the final page as it wrapped me in a sensuous
world where fulfillment of desire is the ultimate fulfillment of life.
-- Silvia Violet, author of Cup of Revelation (coming soon from Loose Id)
Incubus reminds me of all the reasons I love to go to sleep. A sensual, spellbinding ride, it
brought new life to the phrase "curling up with a good book."
-- Alicia Sparks, author of Desert Moon: Ah-ten (Loose Id)
A hot exciting read, with a killer ending. And of course a very sexy man worth dreaming
about.
-- Vivi Anna, author of Hungry Like The Wolf (coming soon from Loose Id)
INCUBUS
Raine Weaver
www.loose-id.com
Warning
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered
offensive to some readers. Loose Id e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the
laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where
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* * * * *
This book is rated:
For explicit sexual content and graphic language.
Incubus
Raine Weaver
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or
existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the
author s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or
dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by
Loose Id LLC
1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-29
Carson City NV 89701-1215
www.loose-id.com
Copyright © June 2005 by Raine Weaver
Excerpt of Angel is a Centerfold copyright March 2005 by Pearl Jones
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of
this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing,
photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.
ISBN 1-59632-147-4
Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader
Printed in the United States of America
Editor: Ansley Velarde
Cover Artist: Christine M. Griffin
Dedication
To Cece -- the devil who made me do it.
Chapter One
It was the kiss of the night wind through the open window that first attracted her. The
mild breeze bore the scent of spring lilacs through the harsh metal screen, along with the
smell of rich, damp earth burgeoning with the promise of new life.
It was the kiss of the night wind through the open window that first frightened her.
Now that she knew he wasn t coming, she stretched out, stomach-down, across the
bed, propping her head up so she could stare out into the darkness. She could see the stars
from this vantage point and hear the sounds of small creatures stirring in the night. And if
she kept her mind very clear and relaxed, she wouldn t think about being bored. Lonely.
Lost. But if she concentrated very hard, she could almost make herself believe that her
fiancé, Steve, was spending the night elsewhere because he really did have car trouble.
She chose, instead, to face the truth.
 Now, Sera, it can t take forever, he d sighed into the phone.  Give me a break. I had
to walk nearly three miles into town and just managed to hire a tow truck a few minutes ago.
My cousin s funeral is tomorrow, so there s no point in trying to find a ride back to the cabin
tonight. And if it s the carburetor, the garage will probably have to order parts. They don t
stock stuff for classic cars in these little hick places.
2 Raine Weaver
Serafina had stuck her tongue in her cheek to stifle her response. Interpretation: he d
hooked up with one of his former phone numbers in town, and his old bag of bolts had died
on him.  I thought you wanted to be with me. Two birds with one stone, you said. Hit the
funeral and have a practice honeymoon. I thought we came here to  recapture the magic.
What am I supposed to do here all by myself?
 You re being hormonal, he d said sullenly.  It s not like I can hop on a bus to get up
there. There aren t any. Listen, the mechanic s trying to go home on me. Call you later.
And so she d slipped on the slinky new nightgown she d been silly enough to bring and
secured her hair into one long braid, pinning it up and out of the way before flopping across
the bed. How was it that he always managed to make her feel selfish -- even when it had
been his idea to come here? But then, any twenty-seven-year-old woman who still believed
that  magic was a part of any relationship deserved exactly what she got ...
She ran her hand across the cool muslin sheets, trying to lull herself to sleep. It was so
quiet. Too quiet. The little cabin, owned by Steven s uncle, had been built for seclusion. She
thought she could hear the small lake, less than a mile away, muddied with recent rains,
lapping against its shoreline. And there, there was the distant chiming of hundreds of
peepers, tiny little frogs celebrating spring.
And something else.
Something sad and sweet mingling with the soft scents of the new season. A moan. A
humming sound. A voice. Yes, that was it, she thought drowsily. A voice whispering in the
dark, distant and vague, reminiscent of the ones she d heard as a child from her parents
bedroom in the small hours. The ones that were forbidden and private and, therefore,
irresistible.
The words were unintelligible, but provoked a restless tension in her. They spoke of
secrets. Secrets she knew. Secrets long forgotten. Secrets the shadows had kept safe for her.
Incubus 3
And in the midst of the mumble of hushed sounds, she recognized her name and smiled
dreamily as a wafting breeze playfully touched her cheek, blowing warmly in her ear.
 Serafina. Serafina ...
She giggled at the tickling sensation and snuggled into the nearby pillow.
 Serafina. So soft, so sweet. Open your mouth for me, Sera ...
The words became distinct, more insistent, and she parted her lips in sleep to answer.
 Serafina. At last, at last ...
She bolted to a sitting position at the hard, intrusive peal of the old telephone near the
bed. Turning on the small lamp by the bed, she snatched the receiver from the cradle,
squinting into the yellow light.  What?
 Sera?
 Oh. Steven. She rubbed her eyes.  What do you want?
 Sera? You okay?
She peered at the travel alarm clock she d set upon the dresser. Two a.m.  Of course. I
was dreaming. Where are you? What s going on?
 I m staying overnight with a few of my cousins. They ... She heard a twittering noise
in the background and his hand muting the speaker for a moment.  They said to tell you
hello.
 I ll bet they did.
 You sound cranky, and a little out of it. Just checking in. Why don t I let you go back
to sleep.
 Why don t you.
 As soon as I get back, we ll have to kick-start that magic.
4 Raine Weaver
She gave the phone an evil glare, wishing she could send that through the wires. If
there d ever been magic in their relationship, it must have been sleight-of-hand, because
she d missed the show.
 Sera? You haven t asked me when I ll make it back. There was more curiosity than
concern in his tone.
 You re right. I haven t. Give my regards to Aunt Thelema.
Snapping off the light, she sank back upon the bed and curled away from the
telephone. She hadn t meant to be gruff with him. It wasn t like her. But she felt as if he d
interrupted something important, something warm and alluring, and she was anxious to get
back to it. She d never known herself to talk in her sleep before, but there was something on
the tip of her tongue. A word, or a name, or a taste ... she couldn t think of it. Already a
seductive sleepiness was claiming her again.
She reached for the sheet to cover herself, thought better of it, and hurled it away,
leaving herself open to the sweet caress of the night air.
* * * * *
 Good morning, Serafina.
If she d been capable of clear thought, she might have remembered that she wasn t
dressed to open the door. And that it was obscenely early in the morning. That no one
should be calling at this hour.
But then she would have missed meeting the most gorgeous man she d ever seen in her
life.
A man who somehow knew her name.
Her eyelids were tacky with sleep, but the sight of him was still stunning enough to
make her jaw drop. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his hair cut short and tight. His steel-
blue coat seemed tailored to fit his powerful form to perfection, and his hands were stashed
Incubus 5
in his pockets, leaving only the tropical, cinnamon-colored skin of his face exposed behind
dark glasses.
Dark glasses. At six in the morning? The sun wasn t even up!
 I m sorry, but do I know you?
 Yes. You re simply not aware that you do. His generous lips parted in a brilliant smile
as he extended a huge hand.  I m Steven s uncle. Gabriel.
Steve s uncle? The one she d imagined as some sort of elderly recluse? Steven s uncle,
owner of the cabin? She was gaping like a large-mouthed bass, and she couldn t seem to help
herself. Impossible. He couldn t have been more than five or six years older than her fiancé,
and there was no family resemblance whatsoever. Steve had told her that all of his family
had been born and bred in these uncivilized hills.
This man was too stylish, too sophisticated, too ... sexy.
 You are Serafina?
 Oh. Yes. I m sorry. She tentatively touched her mouth with her fingertips to be sure
she wasn t drooling. Her lips tasted of dried salt.  Yes, I m Serafina. Sera. But I m afraid Steve
isn t here. He s stranded with that old rattrap of a car a few miles out of town.
 Sorry to hear I missed him. He glanced down the road, then fumbled with his car
keys, giving her an apologetic half-smile.  Listen, I hate to put you out, but would you mind
if I used the phone? I do need to make an important call, and ...
 Oh, of course. I m sorry.
She stepped aside to allow him to enter before remembering her state of undress.  Oh,
damn. Oh, shit. Oh, sorry. I mean ... excuse me.
She hurried into the bedroom and slipped into the housecoat that was nearly as sheer
as the gown. Taking a deep breath and a moment, she stared into the mirror above the
dresser. God, she looked like death, as if she hadn t slept at all. Her skin had a dull, ashen
quality, and her eyes seemed large and heavy with sleep. She played with her braid,
6 Raine Weaver
wondering if she should let her hair down, if she should try a spritz of that cheap perfume
Steve was so fond of ...
Her eyes went wide, reflecting her sense of shock back at her. Lord, what was she
thinking? He was her so-called lover s uncle, for pete s sake. She slowly fastened the belt of
the wrap as his voice drifted in from the living room. It was a commanding voice, she
realized, quiet and authoritative ...
Quiet. Hushed. She couldn t even make out the words he was saying.
Secretive ...
She entered the room just as he was hanging up. Belatedly flicking on a lamp, she kept
her gaze averted from his face.  I do apologize, Mr. ...
 Manning. Gabriel Manning.
 You must think I m an idiot, keeping you out of your own house.
He shrugged, seating himself comfortably in the nearest armchair.  My arrival was
unexpected. Wasn t it?
He stared at her as if he expected an answer, and she tugged nervously at the ties of her
belt.  Can I offer you something? Coffee?
He seemed amused by the suggestion.  Coffee? No. No coffee. No.
Sera sat on the opposite sofa, carefully crossing her legs. She felt unaccountably like
huddling into the cushions. Why did the room suddenly seem so warm and small?  I guess
we should have called ahead. Steve said that the whole family used the house and, if the key
was under the big tin washbasin, it meant that the cabin was available. We didn t know
you d be coming, Mr. Manning, or we would ve made other arrangements.
 I travel a lot. Mind if I smoke? He lit a thin brown cigar before she could respond. His
hands, she noted, were strong, smooth, and impeccably manicured.  So where s that damn
fool Steven?
Incubus 7
She did a mild double-take.  Um ... Mr. Manning, I don t think you should be calling
your nephew ...
 Gabriel. Call me Gabriel. He allowed his smoke to drift in hazy, dancing currents
around him.  I ll take it back if you can honestly tell me I m wrong.
Sera bit her lip, aware that she was being disloyal. But she was, by nature, an honest
person. Lord knew Steven could be an ass. And there was something about this man ...  He
told me he was going to visit his cousins. He claims that he s stranded in town.
 You don t believe him.
 No.
 Maybe you should ve gone with him.
 I would have felt out of place. I don t generally like Steve s relatives, Gabriel, and they
aren t crazy about me. I intend to visit Aunt Thel. Crazy about her. But I don t have much to
do with the others. They cling to these mountains like children who ve been breast-fed too
long, with no thought of anything beyond the next meal. There s no imagination in them, no
drive. I can t tell you how many junk cars Steve has financed for them, just so they can leave
them jacked up on concrete blocks! And they seem to have an aversion to people who work
for a living and bathe regularly. No offense.
 None taken. His mouth twisted into that disarming half-smile again.  As I said -- a
fool. He told me you were pretty. He removed his sunglasses and leaned toward her. The
frank stare from his chicory-brown irises made her want to melt.  He was wrong. You re
quite exquisite, Serafina. No man in his right mind would allow you to sleep alone at night.
He held the cigar gingerly between his teeth.  No man in his right mind would give you a
chance to sleep.
There was something decidedly wrong about this conversation -- and she was enjoying
it far too much. She laughed and looked away, not knowing what to say.
8 Raine Weaver
 Now I ve made you uncomfortable. And you re tired. It is early, isn t it? I forget that
everyone doesn t keep the same hours I do.
And still he sat, toying with a large gold filigree ring on the middle finger of his right
hand. His pupils seemed to become larger as she watched, to dilate, drinking in the dark as
the room slowly lightened with dawn.  Are you happy here, Miss Fisher?
Her last name sounded foreign on his lips.  Serafina seemed natural, as if it just rolled
off his tongue, as if he d said it a thousand times before.  Do you mean here in the cabin?
 What else would I mean?
Why did she have the impression that they were playing some sort of game?  Are you
planning to kick me out of your house, Gabriel?
 Of course not. I hope you ll stay as long as you wish. But I should go now. He rose,
palming his keys.  I m keeping you from your sleep.
 Please don t apologize. Of course she was glad he was leaving, she told herself as she
walked him to the door. The absolute maleness of the man was suffocating, made the small
cabin seem the size of a closet. How was it that he managed to make her blood simmer
beneath the chilblains on her arms? And what was it about that voice, that eerily familiar,
intoxicating voice, that made her want to relax in his arms and run for her life, all at once?
He made her nervous. Yes, that was it. She wasn t at all comfortable with the way he
looked at her. And if she wondered what he looked like beneath that coat, beneath whatever
shirt he might be wearing, or what hung between the perfect creases of those very expensive
trousers, it was because she was still half-dreaming.  When Steve calls, I ll tell him you were
here. We could probably find a hotel.
 Please don t bother. I had no plans to stay here. It s quiet and clean, and my bed is, as I
recall, very comfortable. Enjoy it.
He had to do it, she thought wryly. He had to remind her that she was sleeping in his
bed. What the devil was wrong with her? Was that a blush warming her cheek? This was
Incubus 9
schoolgirl stuff. She was a grown woman!  We ll only be here for about a week. Should I tell
Steve that you ll be driving back through?
He laughed at her. It was a deep, rumbling laugh, sprinkled with the prettiest set of
pearly whites she d ever seen. It was so mesmerizing, so sensual, that she forgot to be angry
with him for laughing at her.  Do you want me to come back, Sera?
Her heart had not stopped racing since she first saw him. She felt confused,
overwhelmed by her instinctive attraction toward this complete stranger. And yes, guilty. As
if she d cheated on her fiancé. And whether it was wrong or not, she hadn t felt so alive, so
vibrant, in her entire life.
Sera clenched the belt between her fists as she felt herself sinking into the dark centers
of his eyes. What was the point of lying? He knew. She could tell by the way he smiled at
her. He already knew the answer.  Yes, she whispered simply.
He slipped his shades on and slowly, tentatively, lowered his mouth to within teasing
inches of hers.  Then nothing on earth could keep me away.
She closed the door quickly behind him, certain she had lost her mind. The man was a
complete stranger, and her heart was pounding as if she d just run the fifty-yard dash.
Extinguishing the lights, she made her way back to the bedroom. The sky was a smoky-
pink color, and she could make out neither stars nor sun now. But she was lying in his bed.
She rolled across the mattress, then scratched, catlike, at the window screen, wondering if he
brought women here, wondering what they did, what his sexual preferences were.
He would be dominant without making an effort. She could tell that about him. No
hurried, frantic race to the finish line for this man. He would savor every scent, every sound,
the very taste of the sex. Closing her eyes, she imagined that magnificent body at work,
supple and sensuous, smoothly gyrating, then pounding, demanding.
10 Raine Weaver
Sera buried a stilted moan in the mattress, as she imagined so many others had done --
and did not fight the sleep that so easily pulled her in, giving up, this time, with an expectant
smile.
* * * * *
Gabriel waited until he was well out of sight before stopping the car in the middle of
the road. He threw it into park and turned off the engine and the lights, sitting quietly in the
dark.
Thinking.
It had been a mistake. He should have maintained his distance. He knew that already.
But he hadn t been able to resist. It had been years -- God, so many -- since a woman had
affected him so. And even that had not been as powerful an attraction as this. That woman
had opted for another life.
He would see that it did not happen in this case.
Serafina. The mere thought of her made him hard, made him want to have her. She
had the large, haunting eyes of a young doe, and a voice as soft as a kiss. Those were the
qualities that made him sensitive to her. But it was the body that made him need to adjust his
trousers to ease the tightness in his crotch. The long, thick hair that begged to be stroked,
that demanded to be fist-harnessed as he rode her from the rear. The smooth bottom, small
waistline & and most of all, her breasts. The ample, blossoming breasts that she kept cruelly
confined, hidden from the touch and sight of men. His mouth watered at the thought of
them &
And he would have her. He would have her screaming on her back, panting on all
fours. He would have her begging, demanding, crying with need, would bury himself so deep
inside of her that she d be branded his for life. He would enjoy pouring out his hunger
between those full, wet lips, take the greatest pleasure he d ever known in tonguing her into
mindless bliss.
Incubus 11
And he would have her in ways she d never imagined.
He could have her both ways, if he didn t frighten her off. If only he could control his
appetite.
He lifted one corner of his mouth, imagining her sleeping fitfully in his bed, wearing
that pale blue piece of nothing. Her attempt at modesty had made her even more enticing.
But he had to be patient, had to master the frenzy, the driving heat that even now urged him
to go back and claim her as his own.
As she already was.
12 Raine Weaver
Chapter Two
He had long fingernails.
She couldn t see them in the dark, couldn t even seem to open her eyes, but she knew
they were long. He was using them on her, lightly tickling her nipples with them.
She couldn t move. She couldn t stop him, she assured herself. But it was just the tips,
the very tips of her nipples that he touched with those nails, flicking them again and again
until she squirmed. Her belly tightened, and a fluttering feeling began in her abdomen,
stirring up a liquid heat that began to seep between her thighs.
And still he grazed just the peaks, even when she lifted her breasts in offering, even
when she crossed her legs and tightened the muscles to keep the heat from possessing her. It
was frustratingly delicious, like a drop of water on the tongue during a fever, and just as
unsatisfactory.
It was driving her insane.
She rolled onto her back, giving him full access to her, and felt the heavy weight of his
body against hers, pinning her to the bed.
And still those maddening fingernails played just the nipples, faster and faster now,
refusing to touch any other part of her.
Incubus 13
 It s not enough, she ground out, her hips beginning a slow, helpless gyration.  I
want & 
 Yes, Serafina, he whispered above her, his deep voice urging her on.  Tell me what
you want.
 I want & 
She was nearly breathless now, tingling with an energy that made her afraid, that
settled and burned at the apex of her thighs, that made her ache to be touched.  I want &
MORE!
His huge hands abruptly seized her sensitized breasts, grabbing them with a possessive
strength that made her gasp and sit straight up &
... Straight up in the bed.
She stumbled into the bathroom, clicking on the blinding light and shoveling cold
water onto her face with shaking hands.
Something was wrong here, terribly, terribly wrong. This was not like her. She wasn t
a particularly sex-oriented being. Oh, she had her occasional fantasies, her brief dreams of
faceless men with useful, non-threatening genitalia.
But nothing like this. Never like this.
She didn t have dreams that left her trembling and wet, thirsting for more. She d never
been that kind of girl, and sex had never been the earth-shattering experience it was reputed
to be.
She stared at the haunted face in the mirror. She d always thought it plain.  High-
yellow, her father had called it.  You couldn t possibly belong to me. She agreed. She d
always felt that, too. She didn t belong to anyone, anywhere.
 A nice mix of coffee and cream, Steve always said.
 Exquisite. Gabriel had called her  exquisite.
14 Raine Weaver
Sera didn t feel exquisite. She felt tired and ill-used, and shadowy crescents had formed
under her eyes. She had stayed up the night before, packing and preparing for the trip. The
death of Steven s cousin had been sudden and violent, and, naturally, he was upset. Serafina
had even driven for most of the ten-hour trip. She wanted to be a comfort to him. But
twenty-four-plus hours of no sleep had taken its toll.
She apprehensively peeled back the plunging neckline of her gown and examined her
breasts. The crests seemed unusually dark and taut, the skin sensitive, but there were no
scratches, no abrasions.
What had she expected? It was just a dream, after all &
She quickly showered and dressed, leaving her hair to air-dry into dangling corkscrew
curls. It was nearly noon. She had to get out of this house. Slipping into a good pair of denims
and walking shoes, she considered making the bed, decided against it, and hurried out into
the crisp afternoon air.
Millcreek, Virginia, was an old Civil War town, now rapidly deteriorating into
abandoned homes and an aged, sparse populace. Situated near the magnificent George
Washington National Forest, it was lush with greenery and ripe with spectacular views at
unexpected turns in the road. The air was clean and chilled, waiting to be warmed by
afternoon sun, and Sera immediately felt invigorated as she trudged the mile and a quarter
into  town.
Pyle s General Store sat in the heart of downtown Millcreek, a sprawling metropolis of
four large brick buildings. Sera smiled at the huge pickle barrel at the entrance of the store,
and the dirt-yellow dog and two old men in rockers parked on the front porch.
The interior was a chaotic blend of souvenirs, supplies, car parts, and innumerable
Confederate flags of every imaginable size. The moldy heads of long-dead animals hung
Incubus 15
frozen on the walls, their glassy orbs fixed upon twirling, feathered dreamcatchers that
danced above the crowded aisles.
She felt the eyes of the owners fasten on her as soon as she entered. Mr. and Mrs. Pyle
wore cheery red nametags identifying themselves. Sera wondered if she was wearing one
that said  pickpocket.
 Hello, she murmured politely. Ignoring their silent stares, she picked through
slovenly stacks of materials.
 Afternoon. Mr. Pyle spat a wad of tobacco on the warped wooden floor.  You ain t
from  round these parts.
 No. But don t worry. She smirked.  The money s green where I come from, too.
He leaned over the counter, trying, she was sure, to get a clear look at her behind.
 Staying up there at that new fishing shack, ain tcha? Single girl, are ya?
 Yep. She considered a broken rack of colorful, crocheted shawls.  There s only one of
me.
Mr. Pyle sauntered away to answer a telephone in the dark recesses of some back room,
mumbling something to himself about  uppity Northern folk deservin what they git as Mrs.
Pyle slipped from behind the counter.
 You re staying in the Manning house? she asked quietly.
Serafina took stock of the woman she d barely noticed upon entering. She was late-
middle-aged, plump, dressed carelessly in an old checkered dress that gaped open at the
bosom. Her hair was a mix of metallic blond and gray, and she wore no makeup. But her
speech was clear, lacking some of the pronounced accent of her husband s, and her faded
blue eyes were sharp and intelligent.
 Yes. But I d hardly call the shack  new. My & my fiancé and I are sleeping over for a
few days. Death in the family.
16 Raine Weaver
Mrs. Pyle nodded.  Lots of women from around here have stayed there. Menfolk like
to use it when they re fishing. Are you & are you alone up there right now?
Sera paused, picked out one ivory-colored wrap with an elegant fringe finish -- and
lied.  No. No, my boyfriend s at the house waiting for me. I just felt like taking a walk.
She brought the wrap to the counter and dug into her purse in search of money as Mrs.
Pyle sidled over to the antique cash register.  No, he s not, said the older woman.
 I beg your pardon?
 You re all alone up there. I can tell. She unlocked the cash drawer, caught it, and
shoved it back in.  You look tired.
Sera started, dropping the twenty-dollar bill she was passing to the woman.  Wha--
what did you say?
 I said that ll be fifteen ninety-nine. The older woman spoke loudly enough for her
husband to hear, then pressed Serafina s change into her hand, studying her.  You re a pretty
little thing, you know that?
Sera reached for her bag, flustered.  I don t --
 Except for the shadows. You carry the specter of shadows just there, beneath your
eyes. You look tired, child. As if you haven t slept. The woman grinned and leaned forward
with a sinister wink, whispering.  I know how that is. Like you had an itch your whole life,
one you couldn t quite get a handle on -- and you finally got it scratched, hmmm?
Sera retreated from the counter, a thousand icy pins prickling the nape of her neck.  I
don t know what you re talking about.
 It s all right, sweetie. You just run back on up there, and get as much rest as you can.
As often as you can. Mrs. Pyle laughed, digging a rough finger inside the scooped neckline
of her dress and into her cleavage.  I won t tell if you won t.
Serafina ran. Ran as if her life depended on it, out of the store, down the road, and
around the spur until the horrid little shop was completely out of view. She slowed her pace
Incubus 17
only when she ran out of breath and her feet began to feel like lead boots. It was one big
asylum, this little hole-in-the-wall town. What in God s name was the woman talking about?
She d mentioned that cabin, that nightmarish little cabin that forbade sleep. How had Mrs.
Pyle known? She d behaved as if Sera understood, as if they shared some dirty little secret. It
made her want to vomit. And a small, forbidden voice in the back of Sera s mind, like the
sounds from the lake at night, whispered,  You know. You know & 
Stumbling over a rock in the road, she saved herself by falling on her hands. Empty.
She d even left the bag behind, the shawl she couldn t really afford, in her desperate effort to
escape. She wouldn t listen, not to any of them. It was just a bad dream. She couldn t sleep at
night, so her waking hours had become the nightmare.
And here she was, virtually trapped, with no way out.
She instinctively stepped off the narrow path at the sound of an approaching car and
continued walking, still panting. She could call Pete, Steve s cousin. That was who he
claimed to be staying with. She d find his phone number somewhere. She could leave a
message, ask him to come and take her away from this godforsaken place, tell him that she
was afraid of the house, the people, afraid to be alone &
Afraid of sleep &
 Hey, pretty lady! The shouting voice startled her, and she looked back at the car that
had stopped a few yards behind her. A fire-engine-red Porsche. A Porsche with a handsome
man in a black leather jacket, smiling and waving at her.  Want a ride?
She stood in the bushes by the side of the road, wavering. She could say no and go back
to the house, that empty little house that seemed so full of secrets. That cursed cabin with
the hidden history of lies and dreams, where people like Mrs. Pyle obviously came to play, to
act out some forbidden behavior.
Or she could get in a strange vehicle with a dangerously sexy man who made her feel
just as uneasy.
18 Raine Weaver
She slowly walked toward the car, lips pursed.  I don t know. Is it safe?
He leaned across the seat to open the door.  Depends on what you have in mind.
He made her want to laugh. And Lord, she needed to laugh.  Do you ever give a simple
yes or no answer, Mr. -- I mean, Gabriel?
 No. Get in. Let me take you for a ride.
The car leaped forward like a cat pursuing its prey, and she grasped the armrest in
alarm.  I m a little surprised to see you, Gabriel. I assumed you d be at that cousin s funeral.
 I don t do funerals. Never did. Funerals are really for the living, you know.
 Glad you came along to make me feel better. She leaned forward, her eyes glued to
the steering wheel.
 Don t worry. I m an excellent driver.
 It s not that. I was & I was looking at your nails. They re short.
The roadster was doing seventy when he took his hands off the wheel to examine
them.  I ll be damned. How did that happen?
 Drive! Drive! she shrieked as they approached a hairpin turn.
Laughing, he took the curve at top speed without even crossing the dividing line. By
the time she exhaled the breath she d sucked in, he had pulled into the front yard of the
cabin, stopping beneath the skeletal remains of an old apple tree.  See? All safe and sound.
Sera?
She had scrunched down in the compact leather seat, refusing to open the door and
reluctant to even look at the house.  I don t want to go in.
 What?
 Would you please, just &  She slapped the door in frustration.  Just turn the damn car
around, just play a little music, and play it loud. Just take me away from here, just & just
Incubus 19
hold still a minute. She framed his jaw in her hands, daring to look into his eyes, and turned
the rearview mirror toward him.
 Serafina? He cooperated, peering into the glass.  Sera, are you feeling alright? What is
this? First the nails, now the mirror -- what s going on?
 Nothing special. I just wanted to see if you had a reflection.
He chuckled, grabbing her chin in return.  If I were a vampire, I wouldn t be out here
in the sunlight, now would I? Although I wouldn t mind taking a bite out of that throat. He
slipped his hand behind her neck, drawing her face to him, eyes half closed.  We don t need
a mirror. I can think of better ways to show you just how real I am.
Gabriel barely brushed his lips against hers, needing a taste, glad she was watching
him. He wanted her to see how hungry he was for her. She tensed beneath his touch, and he
drew back, fighting the urge to kiss her reluctance away. Even this small sampling of her was
nearly enough to shake his resolve. She tasted of innocence, wonder, and wanting.
It was the most powerful aphrodisiac he d ever experienced.
She immediately pulled away from him, her pale cheeks bright with blood. Her eyes
focused on the floor.  I don t think this is what I need right now.
He silently cursed himself for rushing her. Throwing the car into gear, he gave her
hand an easy squeeze.  Then we ll save it for later. I can wait. I ve got all the time in the
world. But don t kid yourself, Sera. There will be a later. Let s go.
The churning tires kicked up clumps of mud as he wheeled out of the yard and headed
for the lake at warp speed.
They sat together on the dock as Serafina removed her walking shoes and dangled her
bare feet in the murky water.  God, that feels good. She sighed, tilting her head back.  It s
cold and harsh and painfully real. I ve hardly had any sleep in the past forty-eight hours.
20 Raine Weaver
 Oh? And why is that?
 Maybe I ve just got too much on my mind. She moved her feet in circles, creating
ripples.  Or maybe the thought of what it would be like to kiss you kept me awake.
It was a lie. The ghost of a smile on her face betrayed her. But it was enough to push
hot, needy blood toward his loins. The kiss was nothing. He couldn t wait to show her more.
 What is it that you do for a living, Gabriel?
He d slipped his sunglasses back on, fully aware how nervous his eyes seemed to make
her. And he wanted her confidence. For now.  I m head of customer service for a very large
Southern firm. Very Southern. Very firm. He wiggled his eyebrows.  We aim to please.
She couldn t suppress her laughter this time.  I believe you have a bit of the devil in
you, Mr. Manning.
 A bit. The image of her sitting on the edge of the dock would make a striking
impressionist painting, he mused -- a sad, sweet little girl trapped in the body of a voluptuous
woman &
 And you re not married?
He flashed a beguiling smile.  No. Not married. That would interfere with my real
occupation.
 Which is?
 Seducing women.
She shook her head, lips twitching.  I almost believe you. But how do you manage to fit
all that ego into those tight jeans?
 I didn t just happen to show up here, Sera. He tilted his head to watch the water birds
flying over them as the afternoon sky began to darken.  I knew Steven s car was disabled. I
knew you were up here all alone. I came to take advantage of you.
Incubus 21
Sera quietly removed her feet from the water, tucking them beneath her.  Then I d say
you re fishing in the wrong lake, Manning. These waters have a reputation for being a little
chilly.
He whistled softly between his teeth.  Is that the problem between you and Steven?
 Who said we had a problem?
 Don t give me that bullshit, he snapped. The effect the woman had on him was
maddening. No one had ever made him lose control before.  Tell me you don t want to talk
about it, or tell me it s none of my business. Tell me to fuck off. But be honest.
 Well, I d have to start with being honest with myself, wouldn t I? That s kind of
tough. Truth can be a painful process. And I happen to bruise easily. She stared down into
the murky water.  I suppose I m not as responsive as I should be. I can sort of understand
why Steve --
 You are not going to defend that dick-happy sonofabitch -- He paused at the sight of
her raised brow.  Okay, okay, the pot calling the kettle black. But I ve never believed in such
a thing as a  cold woman. Only women who aren t in tune with their own sexuality, women
who may have hooked up with the wrong man, for whatever reason.
 I see. And you, virtuous and noble of heart, have made it your life s mission to rescue
such women from a fate worse than death.
He shrugged as large bullets of rain began to pelt the water s surface.  There s no such
thing as death, Sera. But a lifetime of misery with the wrong person is about as close as you
can get. We gonna sit out here in the rain?
 Just for a minute, if you don t mind. It feels good.
And looked good on her, he noted, as the simple cotton shirt began to cling enticingly
to her curves. He wanted to rip it off with his teeth.  Steven doesn t strike me as having
much imagination. I d wager cash money he would ve made an excellent missionary.
A laugh bubbled out of her as the rain came harder.  Oh, my & how did you know?
22 Raine Weaver
 I told you, Sera. I know all about you. I know Steven thinks you re not the down-and-
dirty type. I know he seeks out women who are and leaves you sitting alone on your
pedestal. I know he doesn t know what you want, and has pretty much stopped worrying
about it. And I know that you don t know what you want. He removed his sunglasses and
pinned her with a frank stare.  But you know it isn t Steven.
 I don t get this. Where do you get off thinking you know so much about us? Serafina
huffed.  Steve isn t as bad as you make him out to be. So he has a little problem with
commitment. And he hasn't been able to find a job that pays well and will hold his interest.
And he doesn t always put me first, or think about our future &  She stopped, clearing her
throat.  Okay, so he isn t the man I think he should be. She wiped the rain from her cheeks.
 A good relationship takes a lot of hard work, and fairytales are for children.
His tone gentled.  You re much too young to give up on your dreams this way, Sera.
She reached for her shoes, struggling to squeeze her feet into the wet leather.  I need
security. Are you surprised to hear me admit that? I ve left Steve three times already.
Whenever he seemed sorry enough, or begged well enough, I always came back. It s so hard
to become familiar and intimate with new people, new relationships that may not turn out
any better. I m getting older. And I like believing that there s someone on the planet who
cares for me. At least with Steve I have a place in somebody s life. He s my comfort zone. If
that makes me a coward, then call me yellow. I ve been called worse.
 Such dedication. His tone was mocking, merciless. He was determined to make her
face the truth.  So why aren t you with him?
 I told you. His car --
 I could drive you into town.
She fidgeted, restlessly toying with the hems of her denims.  I don t want him to think
I don t trust him.
 I could find you a hotel.
Incubus 23
 I don t have much money. That s why we came to the cabin.
 You could come with me. Grinning, he chewed his bottom lip at the thought.
 Literally and figuratively.
Cheeks noticeably paling, she averted her eyes.  I don t generally mind staying by
myself, Gabriel. It s just & just that & there s something about that place. Something
strange. It seems to make me imagine things.
The rain began to blow in horizontal waves across the lake. Rising, he grabbed her arm.
 Come on, he said firmly.  I m taking you back to the cabin. No arguments, he insisted
when she started to protest.  Time to get in out of the cold. Then you re going to tell me
exactly what s got you so spooked. And maybe, he thought, hope stirring in his chest, she d
allow him to show her just how imaginative he could be.
24 Raine Weaver
Chapter Three
Gabriel lapsed into his wickedest grin, biting the tip of his thumb.  I ll be damned.
Lady, either your subconscious has decided to assert itself -- or you ve got yourself an
incubus.
 Beg pardon?
He watched her pace nervously around the living room, as she had the entire time
she d told her story.  An incubus. A demonic figure found in several of the world s
mythologies. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, he was actually reputed to be a fallen angel.
Fallen because of an insatiable lust for women.
She stopped, hands on hips, and glared at him.  You are making this up.
 I m not! He couldn t help laughing.  Check it out. Look it up for yourself. And then
imagine & giving up Heaven itself for the taste of a woman s body.
He lowered his voice for dramatic impact.  People say they come at night. That they
haunt the perimeters between waking and dreams, where the soul is vulnerable, the body
easily persuaded. That they know exactly the right approach, the exact touch -- the
suggestive whisper to sway you. That they indulge in sex with their sleeping victims, and the
victims are often unaware of what has happened to them. Or they come in the guise of
Incubus 25
someone who will be irresistible to their quarry. He moistened his lips with his tongue.
 They say the sex is soooo good that the poor woman couldn t care less who or what the
incubus is -- as long as he doesn t stop.
 You think this is a joke, don t you? She had stopped pacing and was staring at him.
 And you think you re very funny. Lucky me, I get the demonic version of the Good Humor
Man, oh, boy.
 What? He threw up his hands.  Why get mad at me? I m not passing judgment on
any of it. Personally, I don t see what you re so upset about. I could think of worse things
than having a member of the opposite sex come to my bed every night and do me.
 Because he won t leave me alone. Can you understand that? Her voice grew hoarse
with desperation.  Every time I close my eyes, every time I lie down to rest, I can sense that
he s there. Watching. Waiting. I can tell where he s caressed me. The skin tingles, craves him
long after he s gone. I know the taste of his mouth. She shivered.  I can smell his sex. He
whispers to me, and touches me, and makes me want & 
He shielded his eyes behind half-closed lids.  Want what, Serafina?
She turned away from him, but not before he saw the tears rimming her eyes.
 Nothing.
 Tell me!
 I can t discuss this with you. It s personal.
 Oh, I see. He nodded knowingly.  The Ice Queen returneth.
She frosted him with a glance that would cool molten steel.  All right. Being polite
doesn t seem to cut it with you. What was it you said I should tell you? Oh, yes. I remember.
Fuck off.
 Talk dirty to me. I love it. He pushed off the couch and went to her, running the tip
of his forefinger down her long, graceful neck.  I m only making light of it because I thought
it might make you less afraid. Even anger s better than fear. Her long hair was still beaded
26 Raine Weaver
with rain, her blouse soaking wet. He carefully worked on freeing the first button as he
spoke.  You want a rational, scientific sort of explanation as to why you, Serafina Fisher, are
suddenly having all these sexual thoughts and fantasies when you ve never had any
particular interest in sex before. Her eyes were widened, lips anxiously parted. She was so
eager for an answer, she didn t seem to notice his hands.
He went to work on the second button.  The explanation is probably pretty simple.
He could see the full swell of her bosom above the ridge of her bra, a virginal white lacy
thing that made his hand tremble.  Years of denial, of sexual repression making their way to
the surface. It s not surprising it would occur on the edge of sleep -- when you re most
vulnerable.
 But I have no imagination, Gabriel. I m a bank clerk. I do facts, figures, and faces.
 Apparently you do. One hellified imagination. And I am seriously jealous of your little
figment -- lucky bastard.
 You really think that s it?
She looked both doubtful and hopeful at the same time, her large dark eyes soft and
pleading for understanding. He slipped the third button from its hole with ease, his pulse
beginning to thunder in his ears.  Probably. I m no doctor or anything, but it seems to me
that the road to cure would simply be to &  He ran his fingertips along the rim of the lace.
Her skin was slick with rain and petal-soft.  ... to make a conscious effort to recognize and
accept your latent sexuality. And I d be happy to assist in any way possible.
He watched her gaze shift from his face to his fingers, watching as he played with the
borders of her bra.  I don t know & 
He immediately took one step back and pulled his polo shirt over his head.
 Oh, wait just a minute, she said, panic in her voice.  I didn t say --
 Touch me. He grabbed her hands and placed them flat against his bare chest.  Here.
Touch me here.
Incubus 27
She stiffened in his arms, and he nearly groaned out loud as her small fingers curled
into the hair of his chest. He could see the play of emotions on her face, from wonder to
fascination to wanting. Gabriel struggled to restrain his desire to devour her, splaying his
hands wide across her hips.  There s more, you know. His voice sounded raspy, felt
molasses-thick in his throat.  So much more I can show you. I think we could exorcise that
demon. He gently nuzzled her ear, whispering.  Just say the words.
 I don t think I have the nerve.
He grasped her right hand and, with unblinking purpose, placed it on his crotch.  Feel
that, Sera. It s called a hard-on. His eyes held hers.  That s what you do to me. Just the
thought of you does this to me. You damn me without even trying. You sense it, don t you?
Just the touch of your hand makes me harder, thicker. You can feel it, even through the
jeans, can t you? The heat of it, the throbbing. The need.
Her hand cupped him softly, experimentally, and he buried his curse in a sharp intake
of breath. Dammit, he couldn t control it. The slightest touch of her fingers, and he
thickened to steel hardness, the insatiable hunger that had plagued him all his life
conquering all thought. He wanted to take this slow, didn t want to scare her away. As
incredible as it seemed, this woman meant more than sex to him.  Don t stop now.
She moved away from him, and he clenched his teeth, watching in agony as she pulled
her blouse back together.  I m sorry. I can t do this. Not now. Not yet. I need time to think,
and to make up my mind, and to end things with Steve.
 Steven? After all he s done &  Gabriel angrily shoved his hands into his pockets.  Just
say the word, he growled,  and I ll go hunt him down and drag him back here by his dick, if
necessary.
 That would only make things worse. I won t jump into one man s bed while my shoes
are still parked under another s. And I m not thinking straight. I m sorry. I drove most of the
way here and haven t been to sleep since. I m exhausted. I really need --
28 Raine Weaver
 Rest. You want to sleep. Reaching out, he gently smoothed her hair in a gesture of
tenderness that surprised him. Something about this girl struck a cord even deeper than his
animal need, an emotion he d left behind a very long time ago.  As I said -- I can wait. Have
dinner with me. No expectations, no pressure. I promise to be good. I can pick you up
around & oh, six or so? That ll give you plenty of time for a nap. Time to dream.
* * * * *
 The man has absolutely no sense of time.
Gabriel grinned at her from behind two large paper bags.  I just couldn t wait to see
you again.
 It s not six o clock, Manning. Serafina tapped a wet, impatient foot on the floor as she
hitched the towel up and securely tucked it beneath her arm.  You came too soon.
He clutched at his heart.  Ouch. Those are four words a man never wants to hear,
Sera.
Determined not to let him see her smile, she turned her head, pretending more
annoyance than she felt.  You said six o clock. You said we d be going out to dinner.
 I changed my mind. I thought we d have it here. Nice, cozy, and quiet. He watched
as she hesitated, biting her lip.  You re not afraid of me, are you, Serafina?
 Of course not, she said too quickly.  I m just not ready.
 For what?
There was that half-grin that sent her spine into meltdown mode. She placed an
unsteady hand on her hip.  If I let you in, will you promise to stop delving into my psyche?
 Deal.
She dressed quickly, opting for a pair of black leggings and one of Steve s oversized
flannel shirts. Considering her image in the mirror, she hurriedly secured her damp hair in a
plain twist behind her head. Sensible, she thought, eyeing the pale-green, gauzy dress she d
Incubus 29
planned to wear for this evening  out. This was better. The leggings were tricky to remove
if his hands wandered -- and wearing Steve s shirt would not only keep her warm, but help
to keep her thoughts on him.
And she needed all the help she could get.
By the time she rejoined Gabriel, there was an intimate spread of carefully placed
pillows, glasses of champagne, and plates of steaming shrimp, sliced cheese, and crackers
before the fireplace. She watched from the doorway as he casually stoked the spirited fire
he d started, humming an oddly inharmonic little tune to himself. It made her sway uneasily
in the doorway, as if some sort of spell was being cast. He wore casual, button-fly jeans over
the tightest, most tempting behind she d ever seen, and a black silk shirt, already open
several notches.
Steve? Steve who?
 Are you going to stand back there and stare at my butt, or are you going to join me?
She nearly retreated, ready to run for whatever hills might be nearest. She was
barefoot, and positive she hadn t made a sound. He knew she was there without bothering to
turn around. Embarrassed beyond belief, she cautiously padded across the floor and folded
herself upon a stack of pillows.  Sometimes you give me the creeps. How did you do that?
Eyes in the back of your head?
 I felt your presence. And smelled you. Fresh out of the shower, you have the scent of a
newborn babe. He reached for the remaining paper bag and sat cross-legged before her.
 I ve come bearing gifts.
He had a way of making her feel naked before him, despite the camouflage of the
clothes.  Oh, Gabriel, I don t think I should & 
 Not to worry. Nothing expensive, nothing that would obligate you. He poured the
contents of the bag carelessly out onto the floor.  Taa-daaaa!
30 Raine Weaver
She peered at the eclectic assortment of objects, then frowned at him.  I suppose you
think you re funny.
 Just trying to be helpful, he responded, blinking innocently.  You haven t tried your
champagne.
She did. It was excellent, exactly as she would have expected from him.  Let s see &
horseshoe, garlic, bamboo shoots, wooden cross, star of David, a set of tiny chimes, ceramic
elephants with upraised trunks & do I sense a common theme here?
Gabriel blanketed a cracker with a small slice of cheese and munched noisily away.
 She s quick, this one.
Reluctant laughter burst from her belly as she handled each of them in turn.  Nice.
Very nice. You re making fun of me, Manning.
 Never hurts to cover all the bases. He downed half of his glass.  I thought it might
help you make light of your troubles. I thought it might make you happy. It might surprise
you to know that a genuine smile from you would mean more to me than getting in your
pants. He reached for the chilled bottle, refreshing his drink.  It surprised the hell out of
me.
Her smile faded, and she nearly dropped the fluted glass. His gaze bore through her,
and a shiver of something like fear jolted down her spine. It was a delicious sensation, like
the cold champagne going down warm into her stomach and spreading lower. He made her
feel wanted, special, cherished. Sinful. He was the most dangerous man she d ever
encountered. She cleared her throat, quickly changing the subject.  You don t seriously
believe in this  incubus nonsense, do you?
Rimming the glass with his forefinger, he stared past her, as if looking through the
walls of the house.  This is an old place. An ancient place. I ve heard stories for as long as I
can remember. The history goes back far beyond this simple cabin, or the very basic one that
was here before that. The Indians who were here before the settlers thought this land was
Incubus 31
sacred. There were ruins, even then, of a much older structure. The Native Americans
believed it had been a temple of some sort, belonging to another people. A people who lived
and died well before their tribes walked here. People who worshiped a winged god. The
corner of his mouth lifted slightly.  A people who would not allow their women to step foot
upon this land.
Sera swallowed a great gulp of her drink.  This is bullshit, yes? I mean, it s just a silly
old fishing cabin. So there was a pile of rocks here once, and people made up stories about it,
and used it to scare women and little children, and & and that s all, right? A glimmer of fear
had returned.  Gabriel, tell me that s all.
He shrugged.  Doesn t matter what I think. It s what you believe that counts.
Remember that. Try the shrimp. It s getting cold.
Sera chose the largest one. Coincidence, of course, that the big butterfly shrimp was
one of her favorite indulgences. On her salary, and with Steven rarely willing to hold down a
steady job, it was a sinful treat she rarely managed. Just right for the tone of this particular
evening. Lifting it lovingly before her, she slipped it between her lips and savored. It
practically melted in her mouth.  I believe it s a lot of fantastic nonsense. An invention of a
primitive, superstitious people who were forced to repress their own natural sexuality by
church and society. So if a woman felt a stirring between her legs, or a man happened to
have a wet dream now and then, hey -- let s invent some little hobgoblin to blame it on.
 Your logic is flawless. And you ll remember that -- He snickered.  -- when you re
here all alone. At night. In the dark.
She threw a handful of shrimp at his face, afraid what he said was true, frustrated that
she was unable to keep from laughing. She couldn t remember ever enjoying the company of
a man so much.
Not even & what was his name?
32 Raine Weaver
They chatted for what seemed like hours, long past when the shadows outside the
windows encroached upon their little space, leaving everything beyond the circle of the
fireplace in darkness.
Serafina watched the black flames reflect in his eyes as she polished off the last of the
shrimp, wiping her mouth and hands as she finished the short, dull story of her life. She felt
relaxed, well-fed, and, finally, comfortable in his company. There was no reason for her
shoulders to slump and her spirits to sag when he spoke.
 It s getting late. I should be going.
Yes, he should. Before she did something she might regret, before she told him how
much she wanted him to stay & how much she wanted him.  I m sorry. I ve been babbling
on, boring you to death.
 You could never bore me, Sera. This evening has been nearly perfect. I wanted us to
have this time, wanted you to know this isn t just about getting you in the sack. He began to
stack the dishes.  But I ve had one helluva hard time sitting here watching you suck those
shrimp between your lips. And I do mean a hard time. So I think I d better go.
On a foolish impulse, she scooted on her knees to him, sliding her arms around his
neck and gently kissing his cheek as he kneeled beside her.  It s the weirdest thing, she
whispered.  Since the day I met you, I ve had the strangest feeling that & that I know you.
That I ve known you for a long, long time. And that I ve been wandering, lost, my whole life,
just waiting for you to find me again. I m not a romantic. I don t like feeling this way. It
scares the hell out of me.
He lightly pressed his mouth to hers, as if afraid more would fracture her fragile shell.
 Don t be afraid, my Sera. I would never hurt you. And nothing s going to happen here that
you don t want. I give you my word.
The lethargic chill her body had felt since her arrival dissipated, warmed by the touch
of his hands hot on her back, and she hugged him tighter.  It s been the best evening of my
Incubus 33
life. I wish you could stay. I wish we could park out on the porch all night, and neck as we
count stars. I wish I could hold you without feeling guilty and ashamed. I wish things
weren t so complicated. I wish you would & 
He chuckled, grabbing her by the collar.  No. Not just yet. When the time is right, you
won t wish it, you ll demand it, expect it. But I will confess I ve had the urge to rip this
ridiculous shirt off your back. Did you wear it as some sort of badge, like you were Steven s
property and you were warning me off? His breathing was shallow as he slipped quick
hands beneath the voluminous shirt and cupped her bosom before she could react.
Serafina s heart hitched in her throat. She had the wild impulse to rip the clothing
from her own body, to offer herself to him, to feel his hands brand her, possess her.
 I like this. His eyes never left hers.  It s kinda kinky, like touching you with him
standing here. Watching. Regretting what he s lost. I d like him to see. To see the things I m
going to do with you, Serafina. Things I m going to do to you. He brushed his hard thumbs
across her nipples one time, his mouth a grim line as she sharply inhaled, a heated shot of
desire lancing through her.  And he has lost you, Sera. These belong to me now.
Understand?
She couldn t speak, couldn t say the words. The truth. An expression of wild, predatory
hunger passed over his face, and he abruptly pulled away from her.  I have to go. He stood,
stiffly retrieving his jacket and heading for the door as she followed unsteadily. Yanking the
door open with unnecessary force, he turned, grabbed her face between his hands, and
crushed his mouth to hers until her legs went limp beneath her.  I won t touch you again,
Sera, until you want me. Until you re sure. You let me know.
She nodded, out of breath.  I will. Thank you. Thank you for my beautiful evening.
She kissed him lightly.  And for being good.
 I m better when I m bad. Can t wait to show you. Let me show you, Sera, he
whispered, his voice low in her ear.  Will you see me tomorrow? Around six?
34 Raine Weaver
This was insanity. She couldn t become involved with a relative of her lover, a stranger,
a seducer. She looked for her own frightened face in the dark mirror of his eyes and saw only
craven need, desire. And that desire was hers.  Yes. Please.
 And if you should hear from Steve?
 I ll be waiting for you. Around six.
He traced the shadow beneath her eyes.  You re tired. Go straight to bed. Maybe dream
of me, hmmm?
* * * * *
The garlic rested upon the windowsills, the cross above the door, the Star upon the
mantle, and the elephants were in the bedroom, their trunks facing the open window where
the chimes hung silent.
And still she lingered in the living room, watching the remains of the fire play about
the ashen logs until they were absorbed, orange-red embers seething just below the surface.
She d always been a very down-to-earth person. She didn t believe in demons. She
didn t really believe in passion, probably not even in love. She couldn t honestly say she d
ever known either.
But something had possessed her since she d come here, even if it was her own
repressed lust. And now, as if her so-called demon lover wasn t unsettling enough, she was
falling madly, irrationally in love with a man she d only known for two days! How was that
possible?
Because she knew him. Without having any idea of how, she knew him. He didn t
have a home, didn t belong anywhere or to anyone, just as she didn t. And he was looking for
that -- maybe felt he d found that in her. The idea made her giddy. Oh, she wanted his body.
She squirmed on the sofa, imagining him inside of her, filling her, and nearly came at the
Incubus 35
thought of it. There d be no repression with Gabriel, no need for  demons. Sera was sure of
that.
She wanted him. All of him. She wanted him more than she d ever wanted anything in
her life.
She wanted him more than life.
She would get a grip. She was tired, that was all, and the champagne had fizzed its
merry way straight to her brain. And, of course, she was impossibly angry with Steve. She
might suffer a twinge or two of guilt for having the most interesting, titillating evening of
her life with the sexiest man she d ever met -- but that didn t excuse his neglect of her. He
hadn t even bothered to call today. Talk about being taken for granted!
Rest. She just needed rest in order to think clearly. Making her way to the bedroom,
she stripped off her clothes, tossed on her robe, and collapsed, flat on her back, upon the bed.
She didn t even bother to set the alarm. She d sleep until she was good and ready to wake up.
Right now her head was swimming, and she barely managed to settle into the down pillow
before she began drifting lazily away. There was no need to worry, she assured herself. She
knew the truth, and the truth had set her free. It was just a fantasy, and a dream couldn t
harm her. A dream. It was the result of being sexually repressed.
Just a dream &
The sharp fingers made quick work of her belt and skillfully peeled the robe aside, as if
it were the skin of a ripe fruit.  Lovely. Lovely & 
 No. This isn t happening, she murmured drowsily.  Wake up & got to wake up & 
He grasped her breasts in his rough hands, kneading them into full arousal.  Serafina &
so succulent, so soft & and all mine
36 Raine Weaver
She dimly felt the mattress dip around her. He was straddling her, continuing the
erotic massage, pausing only occasionally to pinch the swollen peaks between his fingers
until they ached with the desire for more.  Open your mouth for me, Serafina & 
His lips on hers were insistent, but surprisingly soft. She couldn t move, could barely
breathe as his body pressed against hers, as the hunger of his kiss intensified. He was heavy,
so heavy upon her that she opened her mouth to protest, to catch her breath, and his tongue
slipped between her lips, warm and supple, toying with her own and delving deep,
demanding a response.
 Such lips, he whispered against her mouth.  Such lips are meant to be heated with
kisses, to be wrapped around a man s desire & 
He crushed her breasts together and, tearing his mouth away from hers, transferred his
attentions to her aching nipples, manipulating, nibbling, and suckling hungrily. She writhed
beneath him in what should have been protest, but her voice would come only in strangled
moans.  I can taste the tang of rain on your skin, Serafina& 
His teeth nibbled a tortuous path down her stomach, slowing as he paused below her
abdomen. Her heart thundered in her ears as he gently stroked the inside of her thighs with
long, teasing nails.
 Serafina. Spread your legs for me, Sera & 
She felt him slide down her body, felt him hoist her hips up from the bed, heard the
muffled sound of him muttering something against the moist, hot folds of flesh a second
before his tongue flicked her sensitized clit. Slamming her eyes shut, she screamed out loud,
shivering into tiny pieces of light in a soul-shattering climax &
Incubus 37
Chapter Four
She waited quietly in the approaching dark for him to come.
A pale ghost of sickly gray evening still remained when she heard the Porsche pull into
the yard. He was prompt. It was exactly six o clock.
And she was looking forward to this meeting.
She d finally managed to drag her aching, exhausted body from the bed a mere five
hours ago, her memory of most of the night vague. She felt chilled to the bone, as if the day s
cold, intermittent rain had somehow seeped inside of her.
But she had enough circulating blood to feel angry, and enough memory left to feel
violated.
She d slipped back into her robe, not even bothering to dress, and occupied her time
until six o clock, not daring to go back to sleep. She had no appetite, but she swallowed
countless cups of coffee. She stared at the walls until she had every pimple memorized,
watched the tiny television until her eyes burned, and listened to the radio until the noise
gave her a headache. She d showered and scrubbed her body until the scent of her own sex
was gone. And she thumbed through the contents of many of the volumes in the living
room s small bookcase -- several of which seemed to deal with occult matters.
38 Raine Weaver
She skimmed through etchings of incubi and succubi, creatures with horrible visages
and spidery limbs. She read accounts of women claiming to be impregnated by them, saints
tormented by their temptations -- even average people who swore they d spent their lives
being visited by the demons they refused to give up, even when those people were
threatened with death.
The incubi were a determined, lusty lot. Spells were useless, exorcisms futile. Even
talismans seemed to have no effect on them at all. That discovery brought a wan, twisted
smile to her lips.
She d shelved the books a short time ago. And thought. And waited.
Until, at last, he had come.
She nearly laughed when she heard him knock ever so politely at the door, jingling his
keys in his hand.
And she remained sitting on the sofa, rigidly cold and ready, as he knocked again with
added force.
 Serafina?
His key grated in the lock, and she nodded in satisfaction, noting how quickly he
detected her in the lightless room. He was naturally nocturnal. It was a gift that must have
served him well. Useful for navigating the night and invading unsuspecting women s
bedrooms.
 Serafina? His large frame filled the doorway, his hand outstretched, as if feeling the
shadows.  Are you okay? What is it? Why are you sitting in the dark?
 Waiting for you.
He was silent for a moment, as if sensing her mood. She was sure she saw his nostrils
flare, detecting the scent of her fear.  You re not dressed.
He had the eyes of a cat. She still shivered, despite the comforting warmth of the
flannel robe.  No. You ve gone to so much trouble, I thought I d make it easier for you.
Incubus 39
 I don t understand ...
Conditioned to the darkness now, she made her way to him easily. She liked the idea
that he probably expected her to seek an embrace, or to crumble in his arms while sobbing
her way through the story of her last experience.
But most of all, she liked the sharp cracking noise her hand made against his cheek as
she slapped him as hard as she could.
He reeled momentarily, immediately turning to face her again.  That s a first, he said
quietly.  I usually don t get slapped until after I get laid.
The sharp stinging of her hand made her blood run hotter.  You sneaky, lying, two-
faced sonofa--
She swung at him again, but he easily caught her arm in midair and, grabbing her other
wrist, dragged her with him to the nearest lamp and switched it on.  I ll chalk the first one
up to duress. But before I allow you to hit me again, you re gonna have to tell me why.
 Don t you dare play innocent with me! You found a real prize here, didn t you?
Somebody who was stupid enough to believe she had feelings for you -- a future with you.
Oh, and weren t you the perfect gentleman, the consummate martyr. So content to settle for
a smile, a quiet evening together, so willing to wait. It was you. It had to be! She fought to
free herself, couldn t manage enough saliva to spit in his face.  You and your foul tongue --
 Dammit, Sera, stop! I m trying not to hurt you. He held her wrists fast as she
desperately struggled with him.  What is it that you think I --
 I have the key that s kept under the washbasin. But it s your cabin. You have your
own key, don t you? I watched you use it, just now. Personal, private access to anything
inside. You think you can just waltz in here and catch me while I m sleeping and do
anything you please?! She kicked at him and tried to get the flesh of his hands between her
teeth.  You d better hold on tight, Manning, because once you let go, I m going to --
40 Raine Weaver
 Listen. Will you just -- stop it! He pushed her back against the nearest wall and
pinned her arms above her.  Now tell me exactly what it is you think I did. Or -- or was it
another one of your dreams?
 You are not going to convince me that I imagined this. Her cheeks were hot and wet
with angry, impotent tears.  I am not crazy. And I will not give you the sick satisfaction of
hearing me describe what you did to me.
 Why me? He seethed.  Why are you so positive I m responsible for all of this?
 Because he -- you -- it -- knows me, knows my name, knows how to ... to touch
me ...
 Serafina. Let s be rational. Why can t it just be a dream? Why can t it be the man
you ve been laughingly calling a  lover ? The cabin wouldn t be that difficult to break into.
 It s not Steve! she spat.  It would never occur to him to ... Steve would never do ...
She broke down into a fit of sobs, stumbling away from him as he released her.
He reached for her again, then pulled back, fisting his hands at his sides.  Could we just
take a minute to calm down here? Sera. You re just a little scared. It s understandable. But
that s not reason enough to send me packing. I ve made no secret of the fact that I want you.
Maybe this latest  episode is just your way of dealing with the desire you feel for me and
won t act on. He hooked his thumb into his jean pocket, the ghost of a smile working the
corner of his mouth.  Afraid?
 You re d-damned straight I m afraid. She couldn t seem to stand without trembling,
to speak without stuttering.
His voice had assumed the deep, velvet-smooth sound of hypnosis.  Maybe it s not me
you re afraid of. Maybe it s your own feelings, all that passion you keep locked inside.
Couldn t you just ... well, just sorta go with the flow on this? I mean, from what you tell me,
you aren t being harmed in any way. You might find yourself enjoying it. Maybe you need
Incubus 41
the sexual release. I mean, it s just a dream. Dreams are just an unconscious method of
expression, or a way of working out our problems as we sleep. A dream can t hurt you.
Serafina erupted into hysterical laughter.  You must be insane. Don t you think it
would bother you if a strange woman crept into your bed, and ... oh, Christ, I have lost my
mind. Of course it wouldn t bother you. You d leave a candle burning.
He took a few steps forward.  Sera. Let me help --
 No! She retreated, cowering in the furthest corner of the room.  Don t you touch me.
Ever. You ve had all the free goodies you re gonna get here. I want you out of here. Yes, I
know it s your house; but if you don t leave right this minute, I m going to call the cops, or
sheriff, or right-wing militia, or whatever patrols these hills, and tell them that you ... that
you ...
 Enough. That s enough. His voice taut and stern, Gabriel grabbed the crowded fob
and wrenched his car key off.  Here. He casually tossed the rest to the floor.  Now you hold
all the keys, Serafina. He stalked across the room to the door without looking back.  Be sure
you lock it all up again before you leave. Wouldn t want anybody to get inside, would you?
* * * * *
Tonight there would be no stars, no gentle breezes, no soothing sounds of night.
Tonight she allowed an old gangster movie to put her to sleep. It seemed appropriate.
She was in a violent mood.
She d never been so angry with anyone in her life. If she d had the means at the time,
she honestly believed she would ve hurt him. It wasn t enough that he d taken advantage of
her trust, tried to lure her away from Steven -- but he had to be so damned gorgeous, so sexy,
so at ease about it! As ashamed as it made her feel, there was little doubt in her mind that
Gabriel could have seduced her with very little effort. But he had to be a bastard about it and
sneak into the house to steal it?!
42 Raine Weaver
He d even made her face her own demons without trying. She did want him. And as
much as the night terrors had horrified her, there was a certain thrill to the excitement of it,
a hunger for the raw pleasure. To know that a complete stranger would lie, cheat, or steal to
make his way to your bed. To retire every night not knowing what to expect, except that he
would feast on your body, strum it like a master musician, playing on every need, every
forbidden thought you d never allowed. To feel helpless in the grip of anonymous passion.
To let go without consequence. Response without responsibility. To be unable to stop it.
Did she even want to stop it?
Gabriel hadn t even left her with the option of blaming him entirely. After all -- how
unconscious could she have been in the throes of the most intense passion she d ever known?
Serafina double-checked everything before wrapping herself in the thick comforter
she d spread out on the floor. There were only two doors to the house, and both had been
locked and bolted, a chair wedged beneath each knob to be sure. The windows were secured,
all shades completely drawn, and she d nearly emptied her small canister of talcum powder.
She d sprinkled it before each window and in front of the doors so that anyone entering or
leaving must leave prints.
She was no expert on the supernatural, but she assumed that ghoulies and goblins did
not make tracks. She could reassure herself, once and for all, whether anyone was physically
entering the house to plague her.
But nothing would happen tonight. She d taken her second shower of the day,
scrubbed her skin raw, dressed in a clean gown -- even refused to sleep in the cursed bed.
And Gabriel, she was sure, had finally gotten her message.
Nearly midnight. Steve still hadn t bothered to contact her, and she was so exhausted,
she couldn t seem to find the anger to care. Tomorrow, she thought as she sailed into sleep.
She d give him until tomorrow morning to call. If she didn t hear from him by then, she d
hike back down to the general store and arrange some kind of transportation to an advanced
Incubus 43
society, one that might be a step beyond the horse and buggy and things that went bump in
the night.
The comforter cushioned her body, and she rolled onto her stomach, her arms
pillowing her head -- but she felt as cold and stiff as the hardwood floor beneath her.
Gabriel. The truant thought of him wouldn t leave her. She wouldn t be chilled with his heat
to warm her, that broad barrel of a chest to rest her head on, the play of those massive hands
on her, fine-tuning her body to a shivering mass of need ... Gabriel ...
... He stroked the fine line of her spine, his claws raking the curve of her back as she
moaned softly in sleep.  Anything you want, Serafina. Anyone you want ...
She felt her mouth curve into a smile at the thought. It was true. It was a dream, and
she could imagine that it was anyone she wanted wanting her, eager to touch her, to give her
pleasure ... Steven ... any film star, any saint, any sinner, any sex-starved stranger, any rich,
powerful athlete ...
Gabriel. Gabriel of the infinite eyes and solid, earthy body. Gabriel, who had craved
her, who responded to her touch. She wanted Gabriel, had wanted him forever ...
He massaged the roundness of her rump until it burned beneath his touch, until she
wriggled and pressed against the blanket, silently begging. She felt the gentle nipping of
teeth against one butt cheek, then the other, as one hand insinuated its way between her
thighs, softly stroking as she willingly gave way.  More, Serafina ... more ...
 Yes, oh, yes ... she whispered.  More.
He lifted her hips, the deft fingers caressing the tender, already moist skin beneath the
soft hair as the weight of his body pressed against her from behind. He found the sensitive
hood there, and she gasped, hips gyrating as he began a light but determined stroking. She
could feel the hot thickness of him, pressing, pulsating, burgeoning behind her with every
44 Raine Weaver
movement she made against him as an insistent fever pooled and melted between her thighs.
 More, she murmured hoarsely.  I need ...
 More. Tell me you want it. Want me.
His fingers had possessed her, were driving her mad.  Yes. Oh, God, yes ...
Just as the shimmering wave began to overcome her, he inserted one finger, moving
easily in and out of her, increasing the intensity of the sensation. Her head slumped on her
arms as the wave-like release relaxed her body, even as she felt him raise her hips higher,
spreading her legs.  Not yet, beautiful Serafina ... not yet ...
 No more. Her voice was barely a whimper.  I can t ...
 I ve waited, Sera. Waited for longer than time for you. He lifted her slightly,
positioned her so that she could feel the wet, hot head of him poised at her still-pulsing flesh.
 Tell yourself you have no choice, Serafina. That the liquid sex of you is not beckoning to
me, that you are not primed and ready and feverish for me. Tell yourself that I took you, that
you are not responsible ...
He sank halfway into her, so thick and hard that she thought she would burst. She bit
her lip to keep from begging for more.
His hands reached to the front of her, squeezing her aching breasts until she couldn t
breath, until she had to move or die. She tightened around him, and he snarled like an
animal, his breath hot on her back.  That s it ... that s it ... and now the rest ...
He drove up into her, filling her with one huge thrust, driving the breath out of her
lungs. Her eyes went wide before she clamped them shut, feeling only his hardness
penetrating her softness as he thrust again and again, deeper, with more and more urgency.
She moved with him, famished for him, desperate now to be driven to the edge as he
plundered her without thought, without mercy, until she feared he d never stop, until she
prayed he would never stop. She felt herself leave her body, dissipate into oscillating light,
and come back, only to feel him, driving endlessly into her. Her body wound into a taut
Incubus 45
spring, her consciousness centered on his massive rod, until she bucked against him, with
him, and finally exploded, his liquid need pumping into her as he howled, and she saw only
bursts of stars, felt her muscles spasm around him -- and then ...
Darkness ...
Serafina rolled limply onto her side, carrying the edge of the comforter with her. She
was calm now, and more deliciously relaxed than she d ever been in her life. She gave a faint
thought to rising, to checking the doors and the talcum powder at the base of the windows,
but there was no need. She knew everything she needed to know right now. There were
only a few hours before dawn, and she had only to rest now, before rising to face the sun and
the truth.
46 Raine Weaver
Chapter Five
Dislodging the barricade she d erected before the door, Sera emerged into the soft,
moist air of morning.
She stretched her sore body, breathing deeply to quell the urge to return to her dreams.
She was still sleepy, still ravenous for the feeling of him, even though he d awakened her
twice more during the night. It was not enough. She d become insatiable, begging, at the
end, for more. No amount of rest she d ever known could compete with this delicious sense
of feeling alive for the first time in her life.
The chairs had still been in place when she arose, stiff and chilled, from the floor, and
her tracking talcum remained smooth and undisturbed. And it surprised her a great deal to
discover that she no longer seemed to care ...
She turned to find Gabriel sprawled in a rocker at the far end of the short front porch,
watching her, forehead furrowed. Barefoot beneath an ankle-length red skirt and white
sweater, she padded toward him, unsteady and uncertain what to say.
He sat forward in the chair, uneasily scratching his day-old growth of beard.  I know, I
know. I m not supposed to be here.
 No, you re not. But I had a feeling you would be.
Incubus 47
 I couldn t leave you here alone, Sera, knowing how upset you were. I needed to be
sure you d be alright. He attempted a grin, nervously twisting his ring.  Parked the Porsche
out behind the old woodshed and slept in the car. Just in case. Just to be close by. His brows
ridged with concern.  You okay?
 No.
Sera curled onto his lap, slipped her arms around his neck, and very slowly tasted his
mouth. Taking her time, she gradually deepened the kiss, snaring his tongue when he offered
it, until he crushed her to him, groaning as if in pain.  I want you to do something for me,
she said breathlessly.
He turned his eyes to the sky, laughter rumbling in his chest.  Dear God, I hope it s
what I want it to be!
She toyed with the dark hair sprouting from the neckline of his shirt, speaking very
carefully.  I want you to drive me into Stanton. I need to find Steve. I need to talk to him
right away, to settle a few things. And then ... She kissed him again, teasing, enticing.  And
then I want you to bring me back here and screw the life out of me.
He bowed his head against hers, his brow beaded with the sweaty effort of restraint.
 Hmmm ... one free ride, and I get to ride you as long as I want? You drive a hard bargain,
lady.
She chuckled, moving in wanton invitation against his lap.  And getting harder all the
time, I see.
 Serafina. Are you sure?
 Well, maybe you re right. Maybe I should rethink this whole thing ... Whooop!
He had tossed her over his shoulder and was charging toward the woodshed as she
laughed hysterically.  Wait! Don t you want to know why --
 I don t give a damn. The only question you have to answer is whether you want to
ride there by car or on my back.
48 Raine Weaver
 Gabriel! she shrieked gleefully, holding on for dear life.  The house isn t locked up.
All my things --
He stopped, carefully lowering her and cradling her in his arms.  Are unimportant.
And unnecessary. As long as I am what you want, I can provide all you need. All you will
ever need. And it s all magic. The stuff dreams are made of. Understand? He hurriedly
placed her in the car and tore out of the yard like a madman, tires squealing for mercy.
 What s your hurry, sailor? She smirked, running the flat of her hand along the inside
of his thigh.  I thought you had all the time in the world.
 I do, he ground out, nearly swerving off the road as her fingers crept slowly upward.
 But I intend to do my best to put your little dream goblin to shame, my Sera. And if you
keep that up, you won t live to see me fuck you to death.
* * * * *
Sera let the rusty screen door slip through her fingers as she bounced lightly down the
concrete steps to meet Gabriel. He looked cool and sophisticated, and utterly foreign to the
run-down little rural neighborhood as he reclined on the hood of the car, soaking up the
shade from an overhanging maple. His dark eyes immediately fastened on hers. He was
studying her, she knew, attuned to every nuance that gave expression to her face. Despite
her resolve to be sophisticated about the whole matter, she could manage only an anemic
half-smile as she went straight to him, leaning into the strong, comforting arm that
immediately encircled her waist.
 I m sorry, Sera. His voice was soft with understanding.  He wasn t there, was he?
She played with the leather lapel of his jacket, remembering now that she d left her
own at the cabin, as his warm embrace erased the chill that had settled in her skin.  Pete
couldn t even manage to pretend surprise when I mentioned that Steve was staying here. He
blubbered some nonsense about Steve going shopping and coming back real soon. She d
known he was running the streets, humping everything that would hump back. Still, there
Incubus 49
was a sadness to proving she was right about him, right about her decision to end the
charade. It meant change. Making decisions.
It meant there was no reason not to allow Gabriel into her life.
He slid from the car, folding her into his arms as she rested her head on his shoulder.
 He ll show up now, you know. They ll find a way to contact him. You wanna wait for him?
Get this over with? He grinned.  Give me a chance to beat the shit out of him?
 No. No, I don t think so, she murmured after a moment s silence.  I gave it more than
one chance. Gave him more than one chance. I ve had enough. I don t want to play
anymore. She nuzzled the bristle of his cheek, smiling at the roughness. It was pleasingly
human, she mused. Very manly. Very stimulating.  I deserve better.
He held her face firmly between his hands, searching her eyes.  You do. You deserve so
much more. If ... if you would only ...
 What? She could not fathom his eyes, could not read the secrets so buried and
blackened with time.  What would you have me do?
He detached himself from her, stepping back and opening the car door.  Nothing.
Nothing for me. It s all up to you. The choices are yours. He climbed in beside her, grasping
her fingers so tightly they hurt as he drew in a quick, deep breath before gently, sweetly
kissing the distress from her hand.  Like now. Your call. Where do we go from here?
 If you don t mind driving me there, I think I d like to go see Aunt Thelema.
Aiming for the ignition switch, Gabriel dropped the car key.  Aunt Thel? He seemed
surprisingly nervous as he retrieved it.  You wanna go see the old lady?
Serafina smiled in fond memory of the family matriarch.  She s really the only person
here I ever liked, and I d like to visit her once more -- since I m sure I ll never have anything
else to do with this family. Her hand felt so small, lost inside his huge one, that she linked
her fingers through his and held on.  And then I d like to check out that alternative ride you
offered. You ll have to go some to beat out the one I had last night, Manning.
50 Raine Weaver
 Oh, yeah? He growled as he gunned the engine.  Watch me.
* * * * *
Although she was able to make her way around with the help of a cane and
occasionally received guests and took her meals with the family, Aunt Thelema was basically
confined to a large room in the rear of her home. Her granddaughter, with the aid of her
husband, took dutiful care of her and lived rent-free in the house the crafty matron been
sensible enough to keep in her own name. And at the ripe old age of ninety-three, she still
had enough sass and knew enough secrets to rule the family from that large room, where she
usually sat before a huge picture window, gently rocking to the time of the old clock on the
mantle.
Having assured the granddaughter she d be brief, Serafina entered quietly, noting that
the old woman seemed to be nodding in light slumber. It was just as well that Gabriel had
opted to wait in the car. Aunt Thelema looked thinner and far more fragile than she had two
years ago, the last time Serafina had seen her. There was no need to tax her strength with too
many visitors.
Making her way in a large circle around the room, Serafina nearly stumbled over
Thomas, the huge gray tabby, reputed to be as old in cat years as his mistress. He peered
through half-moon eyes as she apologetically stroked his back. Winking at her, he yawned
and quickly curled back into sleep.
There were at least three unfinished crocheted afghans, proof that the older woman
was weakening, and dozens of photographs of relatives and friends who had come and gone,
collecting dust. Sera removed her favorite from the mantle, chuckling softly to herself. Aunt
Thelema had been a gorgeous young woman in her time, wearing clothes and attitude
enough to have any man she wanted. How sad to think of her ending her days in such a
lonely, unhappy way.
Incubus 51
 Well? Did you come to be nosy, or are you gonna come over here and say hello to
me?
Sera hurried to the woman s side, enthusiastically kissing her cheek and kneeling
before her.  And how s my favorite aunt in the whole world?
 Just about ready to check out, I d say, she grumbled, her mouth spreading into a
toothless smile.  But I am glad to see you, at least, one more time.
 Oh, you ll outlive us all.
 Now, don t you start lying to me, or I might mistake you for one of my relatives. She
leaned forward, the old oak rocker creaking beneath her.  Serafina. I always liked you. You
remind me of ... well, of someone I knew a long time ago. It ll be nice having fresh blood, a
little quality in the family.
She placed her hand softly upon that of the old woman.  I m afraid that s not going to
happen. At least, not in the way you think. And I m here because I didn t want you to hear it
from somebody else.
 It s that boy, right? What was the imbecile s name? Steven. Yes, that was it. She
glanced around the room.  Where is the no-good --
 I don t know, Serafina said quietly.  I haven t seen him in over three days.
 Three days! The boy must be ... Thelema paused, her leathery hands grasping.  Don t
tell me you ve been staying ... you been up there in that cabin all by yourself?
 Yes, but --
 Come here, she commanded brusquely.  Closer. Gimme your face in the light. Let me
see.
Sera stared into the silvery-iron eyes of the woman, wondering how much her dimmed
vision could detect.
 Yes. Of course, Thelema murmured, raising a trembling hand to caress Sera s hair.  I
remember well. When I first met you, I thought,  such a pretty, frail little flower. And you
52 Raine Weaver
are a beauty, child, try as you might to hide it. She urged Serafina s chin up.  So very pretty.
And you look so very, very tired ...
Serafina pulled abruptly away from her. She suddenly felt as if something was creeping
just beneath the surface of her skin, as if the whole world had gone mad.  I can t stay, Aunt
Thelema, she said, anxious to go.  Steve s uncle Gabriel is ... well, he gave me a ride, and
he s waiting outside ...
 Steve s uncle Gabriel is waiting outside, is he? She laughed sharply, progressing into a
coughing fit that alarmed Serafina.  Well, you just let him wait. Shouldn t bother a man to
wait for the right woman.
 Auntie, I really have to --
 You ll keep your prim little butt right here until I ve had my say. And then you go,
with my blessing. She struggled to turn in the chair.  Where is the damn thing?
 What? What are you looking for?
 The picture, child, the one with the ... there. Over there on the bureau. The one of me
wearing that snazzy beret. Fetch it for me. She sat on the edge of her chair until the tin
frame was securely in her hands, and then settled back, smiling dreamily.  This is it. This is
the one. I was eighteen years old when this picture was taken. I d just returned from the last
fishing trip I ever took with my father. He loved taking me along. Said nobody could bait a
hook the way I could. I had my looks then, and the world before me. I thought I could have
anything I wanted. All I had to do was make up my mind what that was.
Sera felt her eyes misting as she watched the woman caress the old photograph.  You
were really hot, Aunt Thel.
 Damn straight. She held the picture to her chest, her breathing shallow.  Some days I
didn t want to go fishing. Some days I stayed at the cabin. I read. I cooked fish. I daydreamed.
I napped. And I met a man up there.
Serafina s eyes widened appreciatively.  Auntie! You took a lover?!
Incubus 53
 My first. And last.
 He was the man you married?
 Ha! Hardly. My husband was a pig, a clumsy, unthinking animal who d climb on top
and pump away for a few seconds before rolling over and gagging on his own snoring. No.
This man was ... a lover. Her eyes stared, unseeing, before her.  He made me feel, made me
want. Made me love him. I would ve gone to Hell for that man. Thought he was all the
Heaven I d ever need.
Gazing at the photo again, she seemed to retreat into the past.  I don t rightly
remember how that house even came into the family. Probably over a bottle of whiskey, if I
know the Mannings. She laughed softly, sparing Sera a wink.  It s a peculiar little place,
ain t it? she cackled.  Been renovated once or twice, but it still sits in the middle of God s
virgin country. There are places that remain, untouched places, pagan places.  Tain t a place
for a woman to rest, that s for damn sure. There was always something fishy  bout that
fishing cabin, y know?
The wink jarred Sera, bringing back the disturbing memory of Mrs. Pyle. She barely
resisted the urge to run again.  So I keep hearing. But nobody seems to be able to tell me
why.
 Superstition. Stories told around campfires. Winter tales to keep you entertained until
spring thaw. Fear? A little something to keep the ladies in their place? I didn t have sense
enough to be afraid. Even though my mother would mutter scripture every time the place
was mentioned. Hell, I even remember my great-grandmother going on about it. Nutty stuff
about a man who slipped into that cabin at night. A man who did the most wonderfully
sinful things to a body. A man whose name was known only to the wind that blew soft up
there in the wilds.
Sera felt frozen in place and time. She held fast to Thel s fingers, wondering which of
their hands was trembling.
54 Raine Weaver
 I was so sure that first night was a dream, the ancient voice continued.  I woke up
tired, eyes dry and red, as if I d been watching the dark all night. But my whole body felt
alive. Tingling. Hungry. Figured I d had quite the dream, yes, ma am! That is, until I saw the
blood. The blood of my virginity on my sheets.
 Oh, my God.
 Maybe I did it myself. Back in the day, women weren t encouraged to explore their
own sexuality. Or maybe it was the setting, the power of suggestion, or maybe ... Thel
nodded, smiling.  Yes. Yes, maybe he was my god. She shook her head.  But it was all too
strange, too much. I was too young, too afraid for the path.
 The  path ?
 The road less taken. Dammit, don t young people read anymore?
Patience, Sera reminded herself. She had to be patient with the old soul.  So you broke
it off.
 My father ended it. Dragged me from that cabin kicking and screaming. I ranted and
raved for weeks. Literally made myself sick. Ran away twice, trying to get back there.
Finally, the old man took me to see how my dear ol great-grandmother lived. Abandoned,
locked up, shunned, medicated. Crazy. And she d been such a sweet woman once. Such a
beauty. Thel s cold finger barely touched Sera s cheek.  A pretty, frail little flower. High-
yellow, with long, thick hair and sad, soft eyes. Exquisite.
Easing slightly away, Sera sighed. She d just about run out of patience.  Aunt Thel. It s
me, Serafina. Your great-grandmother s been dead for a long time now.
 Nothing dies, child. Nothing and nobody. We come back looking. Learning. Wanting.
And each time we choose who we are, what we are. And those choices determine our reality.
You can choose Heaven or Hell. But if you re strong enough -- if you believe enough -- you
can have anything. Or anybody.
Incubus 55
It was a strange blend of fact and fairytale, this. Sera shivered slightly as the fine hair at
the back of her neck stood up.  But you ve led a decent life, Auntie.
 I gave in. Gave up. Decided that I really wanted what everybody had always told me I
did. A hard-working husband, a house, a normal family. I didn t have the courage to choose
the magic.
 The  magic ?
 Well, damn, girl, I m supposed to be the one who s hard of hearing here! Yes, I said
the magic!
 Okay, Auntie, hush now, it s okay ... So you never saw him again?
The ancient voice was an unsteady whisper.  When I realized my mistake, I wanted to
go back. I called out to him many a night, cried for him -- dreamed of him. I still do. She
turned an almost angry eye upon Serafina as she stood.  Don t you make the same mistake I
did, little girl.
 Aunt Thel. Sera struggled to keep the patronizing tone from her voice.  I don t
understand.
 You know your Bible, don tcha?
The old woman was rambling.  Well ...
 Genesis. Genesis, chapter six. See? Not enough reading! Do you understand what I m
saying?
She was becoming agitated and incoherent. Serafina patted her hand comfortingly.
 Yes. Yes, I hear you. Quietly rising to her feet, she moved silently to the door, anxious to
catch the fading light of evening.  But I have to go. Really, I do. Goodbye, Auntie. Rest well.
Sera didn t know her Bible well enough to recognize chapter and verse. She didn t
know exactly what the old woman was talking about, and doubted there was much sense to
it anyway. She just knew that darkness was coming fast. Virtually running to the car, she
threw her arms around the neck of the startled Gabriel as soon as she entered, kissing him
56 Raine Weaver
desperately.  Hurry, she urged, ignoring his pointed questions.  It s been hours, and we
don t have much time.
 But what did she say that has you so --
 Never mind. Come on, Manning, drive like the speed demon you are. It s getting dark!
Hurry!
Thelema heard the car scream away from the house and began to rock again, shaking
her head.  Young people. Waste of time. She just don t know. Her narrow eyes focused on
the last of the day s light.   ... The sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair, 
she muttered.   And they took them wives of all which they chose ... 
Incubus 57
Chapter Six
 It s almost too late! Pull over! Right now! Pull over!
Gabriel slammed on the brakes, running the Porsche off the side of the road as the back
end skidded in the mud.  What? he cried, throwing it into park.  What is it? What s
wrong?
 There isn t time! Hurry up!
She was out of the car and running toward the river before he could respond, hiking up
her long skirt as she dashed toward the water.  Follow me!
He was behind her in an instant, calling to her as they crashed through the brush.
 Serafina! Tell me what you re doing!
 The sun. She reached the bank of the river and, inexplicably, paused there to yank off
her shoes.  The sun will set before we get to the cabin.
He watched in smiling confusion.  And this is why we ve come to the water, and why
you have to take your shoes off?
She threw them carelessly into the bushes.  A symbolic gesture. My shoes are no
longer parked under anybody s bed. Who needs a bed? She waded in, unmindful of the
chilled water, and beckoned to him.  God, it s cold and cutting, and real. Come on in.
58 Raine Weaver
He removed his shoes, tossing them aside, and easily made his way to her side.  I think
you just wanted to see if I had goat s feet.
She laughed, turning in a wild circle in the water before flinging her arms around his
neck.  No, that s not what I wanted. She kissed him savagely, popping the large snaps on his
jacket and jeans open before raking the thick zipper of his pants down.  This is what I want,
she breathed as she cupped his crotch.  You are what I want.
She heard his agonized groan above the sound of the water and tore at the buttons of
his shirt. Skillfully raising the sodden skirt, he rapidly stripped her of her proper white
panties, leaving them to be discovered by some unsuspecting angler.
Sera shoved his pants down to his knees, delighted that he wore no underwear, and
staggered at the massive size of the man. He kicked out of the jeans, smiling at the way she
stared at his arousal as he firmly gripped her buttocks.  Be sure, Serafina, he whispered
hoarsely.  I can t pull back now, or promise to be gentle. I ve waited too long, wanted you
too much. Be sure.
She slid a wet hand along the long, hard length of him, felt him thicken and moan in
her grasp.  I needed the daylight, she replied.  I needed to see you in the sun, to touch your
body, to feel you respond to me. I need the feeling of real flesh. She bit down, hard, into his
shoulder.  I need you inside of me.
He half-carried, half-dragged her close to the bank, claiming a seat on a large boulder,
spreading her legs so that she was astride him. Sliding her sweater over her head, he fed it to
the river, allowing it to drift away. He latched on to her breasts with eager lips, hungrily
suckling there, sending jolts of heat coursing through her body to settle between her thighs.
Oh, she could die, she thought, positioning herself above the red-hot head of his cock. She
could die right here and now, and never give a damn.
Not enough. It was not enough for her. Sweeping her hands behind his neck, she
pulled him to her, harder, moving her hips in a teasing motion against him. His steel aroused
Incubus 59
her clit as she felt his teeth against her breast, his tongue strumming her nipple. Not enough.
Never enough.  Gabriel, she cried.
He grabbed her hips and pushed, splitting her wide with his heat, grunting with
satisfaction as she gasped. Pausing there, he continued to feast feverishly upon her breasts as
she clung to him, sure that he had ruined her and dying for more. He was enormous. Her
sheath contracted around his pulsing head, warm juices welcoming him.
 God ... so wet, so tight, he muttered, seeking the satisfaction of her other nipple.
She wrapped herself around him, burying her face in his neck.  Gabriel ... Gabriel,
you re killing me. Please. Kill me.
 I ve come, Sera, to bring you to life. Tell me you re ready. Ready for the rest.
She pushed slightly away from him. The rest? Dear God, she d barely managed the
formless incubus. And she was wet and pulsating, wide open to Gabriel -- and it wasn t even
all of him?  Oh, no ... oh, wait ... change of plans ...
Lifting her slightly, he brought her hard down upon him, plunging into the depths of
her as she cried out his name. If there was pain, she couldn t feel it beyond the pleasure.
Spreading her legs wider, she silently begged for more. Effortlessly lifting her hips, Gabriel
thrust deep again and again, breathing like a bull against her chest.
He smelled of sex and thick, sultry summer nights. Sera closed her eyes, reveling in the
need that drove him, the hunger that forced the breath from her body with each driving
stroke.
The spasms came immediately, quick and overwhelming, as she dug her nails into the
taut muscles of his shoulders. He paused for only a moment, seeming to savor the clenching,
wet release of her.  Open your eyes, Sera. With an effort, she half-lifted her lids. She was
weak and raw. And she wanted more.  I want you to see me. I want you to watch what I do
to you.
60 Raine Weaver
He completely embedded himself, then ground heavily against her, moving his hips in
slow, rotating motions as he nibbled her aching nipples hard between his teeth. No strokes.
Circles. Hard, steady, slow circles that skillfully drove her out of her mind. Slipping his
thumb like a hot brand between them, he found the sensitive nub there and played it,
continuing his deep, steady gyration. She arched away from him, saw the merciless intent on
his face, still helpless to keep the wave from taking her again, to resist the black flame at the
center of his eyes as she came, shuddering and whimpering in surrender.
She was too weak, too tired to go on. But he was still hard and heavy inside of her,
unwilling to relinquish his prize. He laughed loudly, glancing down at the water slapping
against his legs.  I don t know about you, he choked,  but I can t feel my feet anymore. He
vigorously sucked her neck, chilled with the air and heated from his touch, until it went
numb. If he had sprouted fangs and drained her of every ounce of blood, she wouldn t have
uttered a single protest.
 Once more, Sera. His hard fingers burned into her buttocks, pulling her closer as he
probed deeper, nearly bringing her to tears of need.  Give yourself to me. Completely,
wildly, totally. Take us both ...
She moved over him, against him, tightening herself around his cock until he groaned.
One arm held her waist in an iron grasp, and a lone finger found her anal opening, spurring
her on with smaller, mimicking thrusts. Pumping mercilessly against him, she tasted, for the
first time, the exhilarating feeling of power. She was starving for him, panting and unable to
stop, even as her knees scraped the hard surface of the granite rock, even as she vaguely
heard a passing car slow on the road, a car that did not move on. Apparently, they d stopped
to watch the show. It made her laugh in uncaring glee, made her hump harder, faster against
him, until the piercing steel of him was all she could feel, all she wanted.
He grasped her waist and buried himself in one last, powerful thrust, his voice
rumbling from deep in his chest in a rasping, magnificent roar. She felt him jerk, flatten her
body against his, felt him erupt inside of her, felt her own release carry her to the brink of
Incubus 61
unconsciousness, until the light behind her lids shimmered from white to red to a cool,
serene darkness, and she slumped into his arms, exhausted.
 God, he gasped into her hair.  God, tell me I didn t hurt you! I m sorry. I can t help it.
You drive me crazy.
Slowly removing his jacket as she clung to him, he wrapped it around her bare upper
body and held her gently to his heart.
 Well, what do you know, she groaned at last. Her words sounded slurred, and she
could still feel her body contract around his cock.  There s something beating in there.
You re human, after all.
 You make me this way. The taste of you, needing to bury myself inside you, makes me
this way.
 And you! You ve made me a nymphomaniac! And an exhibitionist, and -- She
muffled her laughter against his chest as the onlookers in the car gave a rousing cheer and
drove off. Water streamed from her bedraggled hair, and her drenched skirt stuck to her
thighs.  -- And a mess. I must be a sight.
 You are. A lovely, luscious, irresistible sight. And if you hadn t just worn me out, I d
be having you again. He laughed softly, pulling her even closer to him.  Give me about five
minutes.
 Oh, no, no more, she moaned.  I ll need time, Manning. Lots of time. Half an hour, at
least.
A fine, gossamer mist of fog rose off the lake as dusk cooled the land, and he turned her
face to him, kissing her gently.  Serafina. I ll have to leave here soon.
 Leave? You re leaving me? The high-pitched words of despair were spoken before she
realized it.  You can t. Not after --
 After what?
62 Raine Weaver
She inhaled a long, shaky breath. It was no use. She couldn t be careful with this man,
couldn t shield her heart, her feelings from him. If she was going to hurt, it would be for
love, not fear of being hurt.  Not after what you ve come to mean to me.
 You re right, my Sera. I can t. He kissed both of her eyes and, with a devastating
smile, slipped his gold filigree ring onto her thumb.  I want you to come with me.
She pushed away from him and stood in the cold water, stunned.  You can t be
serious.
 I am. I want you to come with me. Tonight.
 You re a crazy man. I ve got a job, an apartment, friends, plans for the future.
 Your future is with me. It was always meant to be so. He rose, unashamedly naked
from the waist down, and held his hand out to her.  I can offer you life. Love. Lust. A future
such as you have never dreamed. I cannot fight my nature. But I can direct it. I can focus the
unquenchable hunger on one woman. You. Leave this dream, Sera. Be my salvation. I will
worship you. Ravage you. Care for you as no one ever has, and keep myself only to you. I
swear it. I ask only that you believe that I can, that I will, and come away with me.
She backed away from him, watching him. He stood like some great river god before
her, beckoning.  You ... you re asking me to give up everything.
 Yes. Even your need for your precious  security. I ask you to give up everything -- to
get everything. The supreme act of faith. Come with me, Serafina.
 To -- where? She wrung her hands, undecided. How could she do this? And if not --
how could she let him go?  Where are we going?
 Not to where. To what. I ask only your faith and trust. Come, my Sera. Come.
Insanity. Sheer madness. No matter how comfortable she felt with the man, how
attracted she was to him, the fact was that she d only known him for three days. He could be
a liar, a cheat, a womanizer. She could be sacrificing everything she d worked for, throwing
away her whole life ...
Incubus 63
A life? Did she actually consider her years of simple survival and the games she d
played with Steve a life?
Stepping carefully upon the slippery rocks that lined the river s bottom, she walked
back to him, slipping her hand into the secure grasp of his.  Yes, Gabriel, she said simply.
 Yes.
64 Raine Weaver
Chapter Seven
Serafina sang happily to herself as the hard, hot water of the shower warmed and
cleaned her raw skin. She d never taken so many showers in such a short time in her life; but
then, many things in her life were about to change.
Gabriel had, reluctantly, allowed her to return to the cabin to shower, gather a few
belongings, and relax before their departure. He d left her breathless with a thorough kissing,
promising to return shortly after he d concluded all of his  business -- whatever that might
be. Lord, she didn t even know what the man did for a living! But it didn t matter. She
believed him, believed in him, believed that they would be happy together.
Wrapping herself in a large white bath sheet, she returned to the bedroom to dress.
Flicking the light switch, she was stunned at the appearance of the young woman that
reflected back from the glass on the wall. Her hair, unrestrained, was full and plumped with
the humidity of the shower, her cheeks ruddy with happiness, and her eyes, still shadowed
from lack of sleep, had a piercing glint of light she d never seen there before. She recognized
it as hope -- for the future, for dreams fulfilled.
The spark in the eye of a woman who knows she s loved and desired by a man.
Incubus 65
Flinging herself on the bed, she glanced at the travel clock for what she hoped would
be the last time. Nearly two hours. Two hours since he d left her. Already she craved his
touch, the sensuous presence that filled any room he entered, the sense of caring that
overwhelmed her when she was in his arms. And he was hers. Hers to serve, hers to
summon, to love as he loved her. He d said nothing about marriage. It might come, it might
not. Right now she didn t care. She didn t need the  security of rules.
She only needed him.
Sera stripped the damp towel from her body and closed her eyes, breathing deeply.
She d changed her mind. Damn the clothes and the few dollars in her purse. She was ready
to go. She wanted him now.
She hugged herself tightly, focusing on the thought of him, the feeling of his hands on
her skin. She was sure she could call him forth, bring him immediately to her side -- for
there was no doubt in her mind now that her  incubus and lover were one and the same.
She could touch Gabriel, appreciate his beauty, lose herself in his arms. But the sex had
confirmed it all. She remembered the feeling of being filled by the unseen being, recognized
the movement, the famished aggression. Reducing that seductive voice to a demonic whisper
hadn t hidden the truth. It had only made it more alluring.
There was no wind through the window, but she was absolutely certain she could
smell him, feel his breath, hot and determined, seeping through the very walls.  Gabriel.
Her whisper seemed to sizzle in the air.  Gabriel. Come to me.
She ran her hands along her ribcage and the flat of her stomach, and, smiling shyly,
circled her nipples with the tips of her forefingers. There, just there, she thought. That was
where he d begin. He loved her breasts. She could feel it in the way he tasted her, the way he
clung to them. She squirmed on the bed as her body slowly warmed, concentrating and
clamping her eyes tightly closed, sighing with pleasure as her hands slid to her abdomen ...
 Good God!
66 Raine Weaver
The words were expected. She knew he would react to the sight of her there, ready and
eager to have him.
The voice, however, was not the one she d anticipated.
 Serafina!
Her eyes jerked open to encounter the shocked expression on Steve s face.
 What in the name of heaven are you doing?
Incubus 67
Chapter Eight
Sera quickly wrapped herself in the towel and jackknifed to a sitting position, scooting
away from him.  Steve? Wha-- What are you doing here?
He was gawking at her, his eyes sharp with anger.  I think the better question would
be, what are you doing?!
She stood, edging her way toward the clothes she d laid out on a nearby chair.  I ... I
wasn t expecting you.
He walked stiffly into the room, eyes darting into the closet and corners.  Then maybe
you d better tell me who the fuck you were expecting.
 Nobody. There s nobody. She reached for her clothes, suddenly frightened as he
grabbed her wrist.  I just took a shower, and I was about to get dressed. Steven. She flinched
in his grasp.  You re hurting me.
 Not yet I m not. His dark eyes flashed with fury.  But if you don t tell me exactly
who you were lying there getting yourself all worked up for -- I just might.
She didn t mean to giggle. It simply trickled out of her mouth at first, then exploded
into a full-bodied laugh.  And where do you get the nerve to come marching in here,
bawling in some fit of self-righteous hypocrisy, from the bed of another woman?
68 Raine Weaver
He tightened his grip.  I don t know what you re talking about. I told you, the car --
 You ve told me a lot of things. Most of them lies. And I was so pathetically dependent,
I convinced myself to believe them. She smiled at the confusion on his face.  I don t need to
believe them anymore. I can t even hate you for them. Hatred takes effort. I just don t give a
damn, Steve.
 You tell me, he raged, teeth clenched.  Tell me what you ve been doing up here. This
isn t you. It isn t like you. Somebody s messed with your mind.
 Let go of my arm.
 And what is this? A ring? Where the hell did you get --
 I said let go!
She managed to pull away from him, and he grabbed at the towel, snatching it from her
body.  You re not going anywhere, Sera. I ... His eyes widened as his mouth went slack.
 Serafina! What ... what s happened to you, for God s sake?
 Nothing. She hadn t planned for this. There was no way to explain.  Nothing you
would understand.
He captured her shoulders.  Sera? Who s done this to you?
She knew what he saw. The evidence of the past days activities was all too apparent.
He turned her in a small circle before him, and she didn t bother to resist. There was no
point. She d always bruised and scarred easily. Her breasts were red with suckling, her upper
back bore the playful print of his teeth, her knees were scraped, and her lower back had been
lightly scored by those long, talented nails. Sera didn t care. Her lover, in both guises, had
given her more pleasure than she thought possible. She sighed wearily at the horror on his
face, finally crossing her arms before her.  Had an eyeful? Can I go now?
 I didn t want to believe her. He was shaking his head as she retrieved the towel.  The
old woman told me, and I didn t want to believe her.
Incubus 69
 Thelema? She blinked to attention for the first time.  Aunt Thelema told you to come
here?
 She said you might be sick. She said that you might need me, and if I really loved you
I would hightail my butt up here and take care of business. But I never thought --
 No, Serafina said quietly.  You never did.
 Sera, we ve got to get you to the sheriff, to a hospital --
 Nothing s happened here that I didn t want, Steve. She tilted her head, watching him
closely. How strange that she could ve ever imagined a life with him, with anyone except
Gabriel.
 I suppose I can t expect you to understand. I m not sure I do myself. I thought I
wanted to marry you. That it would make me happy to lie in your bed, to have your children
and grow old with you. I thought I could play the martyr and overlook your wanderings.
You see, I came to expect them. I think I was, in some small way, always on guard, sure you
would let me down again. And you always did -- maybe because I expected it. She paused, a
smile playing at the corners of her mouth.  But he was different. He came to me in the night,
you see. The defenses go down in the dark, masked only by dreams. And as much as I tried to
do what was  expected of me -- he was my dream. I m not willing to lie to myself any longer.
I never wanted to hurt you, Steve. But you have to leave now. You re in the way.
He took her hands, stooping slightly to gaze earnestly into her eyes.  Serafina. I love
you. I ... well, I know I haven t always been the man I should have, but we can work this out.
This man who s done this to you is some sort of animal. He crept in here at night and took
advantage of you -- and it s my fault for leaving you alone. You re ... confused. He paused,
glancing over his shoulder at the sound of his car s horn beeping in the yard.  Let me take
care of you. I can forgive all this, and we can start fresh. Find the magic again.
She gazed past him.  Who s blowing the horn? Who s in the car?
 Oh, just that pesky old biddy. Aunt Thelema insisted on coming up here with me.
70 Raine Weaver
Sera curled her toes against the hard floor as the horn blared louder, more insistently.
 You still care about me. I know you do.
She tenderly touched his cheek, conflicting emotions swelling in her throat.  I do.
 Then you have to give me another chance. We had something concrete, something
real. You can t just give it up for some fly-by-night bullshit. The other women never meant
anything. I swear, I ll get a job, I ll let all of that go. I loved you as well as I could, Sera.
Her vision blurred with tears. She d heard it for years, time and time again. He was a
child, and on some level she d always understood that. Maybe he had done his best.  I
suppose that s true.
 Then you agree. He glared at the doorway and squeezed her hands.  Let me go calm
that old fool down. You get dressed. We ll leave here and never come back, never look back.
I can make it work. I promise. You ll see.
Sera sat back on the bed, watching the empty doorway after he d left. She couldn t stop
trembling, her heartbeat a dull, slow sound in her ears. She glanced at the suitcase, packed
and ready, and wondered what kind of fantasy she d created, what game she had been
playing.
She had loved him. For a moment, she really had. But it was time now, time for reality.
 I m sorry. She breathed in a shuddering breath, talking to no one there, burying her
face in her hands.  I can t do it. I just can t.
There was only one choice she could make. She had to choose reality, had to choose
what she could feel and sense and taste.
 Gabriel, she whispered, her voice choked with tears.  I need to see you, to tell you ...
She stood on trembling legs, willing herself to be calm, eyes closing in concentration.
 Gabriel. Come ...
And the tiny chimes tinkled a soft, sweet song in the warm breeze that sighed through
the window ...
Incubus 71
Steven worried his bottom lip, tempted to pick up the old bag of bones and carry her
into the cabin.  Come on, Aunt Thelema. I don t want to keep Sera waiting.
 You kept her waiting for three days, she grumbled.  Don t try to blame the crap on
me.
 If you d just use your cane --
 If you d just get out of the way and let me walk like a normal human being, I d get
there twice as fast.
He held the screen door open for her, rolling his eyes heavenward as she took an
eternity to cross the threshold.  Sera! he called out.  Sera, Aunt Thelema insisted on coming
in. She wants to talk to you. Sera?
His voice seemed to bounce off the paneled walls of the cabin.
 Stay here, Auntie, he muttered, his fear making him angry again.  Sera! He headed
for the bedroom.  Sera, did you fall asleep in there?
Thelema moved slowly about the cabin, fragments of memory sparking in her head. So
much had changed on the outside, she mused -- the woods, the renovated cabin, her own
body. But her mind held images of her old lover, and her heart still skipped at the thought of
him. The old loveseat, where she d curled up for more than one adventurous nap, gone now.
The sweltering night she d begged permission to spend out on the cool porch -- and what a
night it was! And the bedroom. Dear God, the bedroom! She had to see it one more time.
Steven stood in the middle of the floor, obviously shaken, the limp towel clenched in
his hand.  I don t understand, he whispered.  It s not possible.
The wrought-iron bed had been replaced, she noted, along with the old country quilt
and the original dresser and chest. But it was the same room. A warm, gentle breeze stirred
the curtains at the window, and Thelema closed her tired eyes for a moment. Remembering.
72 Raine Weaver
 Did you hear me? His voice rose an octave as he waved the towel before her.  She s
not here! I ve checked the whole cabin. Her clothes are packed in her suitcase. This is the
towel she was wearing. It s still damp! And it s not possible! The back door is locked from the
inside. All of the window screens are down and secure. And we were in the front yard all
along. We would have seen her come out that way.
If she concentrated, she thought vaguely, she could still smell the blunt, male scent of
him, hear her name whispered on the wind ...
 Aunt Thel! Are you hearing me? He tossed the towel aside and lightly shook her
awake.  We ve gotta call the sheriff. This man, this pervert -- he s taken her, and she doesn t
know what she s doing!
She laughed the laugh of a much younger woman delighting in a sinful secret.  Oh, she
knows. She knows very well! She s done run off with your uncle Gabriel.
 Uncle Gabriel?
 The one who owns this cabin.
He pounded his forehead into his palm, trying his best to be patient.  Aunt Thelema. I
don t have an uncle Gabriel. The man who owns this cabin is Uncle Frank. Remember?
 Oh, I remember very well. She chuckled, leaning on her cane.  I remember things
you ll never know, boy. She could close her eyes here and now, recall the shiver of
anticipation, the knowing that he would come to her. And the feeling of those strong hands,
the heavenly torment of those long, talented nails ...
 You re crazy. I always heard you were. Steve ran the back of his hand nervously
across his mouth.  She needs help. My help. Either she s been alone here, hurting herself,
or ... or some maniac, some demonic sonofabitch has --
 No. Her dim eyes drank in the sights of the room, locking them into memory. She
knew she d never see it again. Not in this dream.  No demon. An angel, lost. Found now, I
expect.
Incubus 73
 I don t have time for this --
 Gabriel, banished from Heaven for all time. And little Sera, who never belonged
anywhere. They ve made their own place. Thel snickered at his expression, thoroughly
enjoying herself.  Who the hell needs some storybook Heaven if you can create your own
paradise?
He was sweating, a small vein visibly pulsing in his neck.  That s blasphemy. You re
insane. And I m calling the law.
Thelema clucked her tongue as he lifted the receiver of the phone by the bed.  And
what is it you re gonna tell the sheriff, hmmm? That you left your woman all alone up here
for days so you could rooster around town? That she willingly hooked up with somebody
else? That she somehow vanished, left her clothes behind, and she s probably roaming the
woods buck naked  bout now, looking for some imaginary man?
He stopped, receiver in hand.  Yes. If it means finding her -- yes.
 Then you re a damned dimwitted fool, and no better for ya.
Thelema dropped onto the edge of the bed, waiting patiently as he spoke urgently into
the phone, and laughed softly.  I knew she was special, she muttered, seemingly to herself.
 Knew she had a chance. I couldn t do it, even if it meant salvation for both of us. Couldn t
believe in it enough. Couldn t believe in him enough. Shaking her head, she fingered the
fine sheets, her fading vision fogged by memories.  It s ourselves we really find here, after all.
I was so young, so afraid. If only I d been stronger. If only ...
 Aunt Thel. His features twitched with impatience.  Please be quiet. I can t hear.
 No, you can t. She bared a gap-toothed grin.  You can t hear, or see, or imagine. You
paid big money for those athletic shoes of yours, just to fill  em with feet of clay. But Serafina
was different. She knew what love should be, knew her dreams were just another reality. She
faced her demons and held on. Bless her soul. She had the courage and kept the faith.
74 Raine Weaver
The curtains went still as the breeze slowly passed on, and Aunt Thelema pounded the
end of her cane against the floor.  Hurry up and get your sorry ass off the phone. If the
sheriff is as dense as you are, we ll be here all night, and I m getting older by the minute. I m
tired. Think I d like to go home and get a little sleep.
 And dream ...
Raine Weaver
Raine Weaver loves the art of creation.
Having dabbled in music, photography, and painting, she's found pleasure in them all.
But writing was always her truest love.
When life didn't seem to go the way it should, she could make up stories that ended
the way she wanted. Create her own worlds.
After all-that was the way things should be.
Now living in her own little cottage on her own piece of land, complete with a wide
assortment of four-legged creatures, she writes, paints, and plans her future.
And she's SURE she was meant to be a top-selling novelist, writing at home in her
jammies, still creating her own reality.
After all-that is the way things should be.
Visit Raine on the Web at www.raineweaver.com, or email her at
[e-mail].
* * * * *
Read on for a tantalizing glimpse of
Angel is a Centerfold
by Pearl Jones
Available Now from Loose Id
Angel is a Centerfold
 I am neither slave nor lady, lord. But I am yours. She took the hand he offered and
drew it to her lips, kissing it as she had longed to do. Her teachers had told her she would
one day yearn to perform the erotic arts, but none had explained how strong the need could
be. Was this unique? Was it only him? The taste of him, salt and musk and with more than a
hint of horse, made her head swim. She moaned.
 Lady ... He fell to his knees beside her.  Lady, I cannot ...
She spoke around his fingers.  I know your oath. Still, there was chaste and chaste.
More than her honor was at stake; she risked her life. Feeling his flesh yield as she bit lightly
down, she counted the reward worth the cost. Her tongue circled the digit, pulling it deeper;
she sucked her cheeks in.
He groaned.
Leaning back until her head touched the rug, she let his hand slip from her mouth,
down her neck, over her breasts, her belly. He pulled away with a hiss, then let his hand fall.
Just a touch, a brush over her hips, away again. She shivered at the light touch.  Again.
 I must not. But even as he spoke, his hand was at her shoulder, tracing a path down
her arm, reaching her hand to weave fingers together, matching until the fit was perfect.
His skin was hot, as though he fevered for her. She felt his touch like a brand and
leaned into it, hoping to be marked forever. His hand flexed, stretching her smaller one.
Her turn to moan.
He tried to pull away; she gripped him tightly, rolling up to face him again. Holding his
gaze with her own, she raised their clasped hands to her breast. He shivered and shook, and
his mouth fell open. She smiled, and would not let him look away.
His hand loosened; this time, she let him go.
Pearl Jones
It was tempting to look down, to see his huge hand splayed in a futile attempt to
surround her, but she enjoyed the look in his eyes. So might a man look were he visited by a
djinn, awe and fear and hope and longing all at once. His other hand came up to join the
first; she could almost believe it independent of him by the surprise that widened his eyes.
And then his hot, hard fingers found her nipples, eager and thrusting through her silks, and
her eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.
 Mother of God.
It might have been a prayer.
His fingers stroked and tugged and twisted through the cloth, sending tiny strikes of
lightning toward her core. It was wonderful, so much better than when she played with
them on her own. But it would be better still with skin on skin.
Deciding, she pulled free from his touch. His face fell on the instant, and he began to
speak in some language she did not recognize. The tone was enough; he was apologizing. She
leaned in long enough to plant a kiss on his quick-moving lips, then twisted and came to her
feet.
 You are greatly privileged, she laughed,  for few infidels ever see a performance like
this. There was no music, but she needed none. She danced.
He gaped as she moved, her body free and swaying and not completely concealed
within lengths of shimmering cloth. And then the cloth came free somehow, pieces waving
from her wrists, veiling his vision for a heartbeat and then falling away, leaving inches of
spice-dark skin to gleam in the lantern light.
One foot, bare but for painted symbols, touched his knee. He looked down, saw
another piece of fabric drop down to curtain her maddered toes, rise, fall again. And then it
was gone, and the foot was on his thigh, and the ankle, too, was bare, as was the calf.
He gasped, and his hands came up.
She stilled him.  The dance is not yet done. Another length of cloth fell away.
Angel is a Centerfold
When she was clad only in a few fringed bits, a single length around her breasts rising
to circle her neck, and the last of her multitude of skirt-wraps, she ceased, falling gracefully
to kneel again, inches away from him, hands palm-up on her knees.  Now, she said.
He did not move. Did not even blink. A pulse in his throat leapt and throbbed; she
could see it. It seemed to beg for her touch, so she reached out to stroke it.
He grabbed her wrist, hard enough to hurt.  No. Too loud; he winced.  No. Slowly,
he reached for her other hand, pulling them toward himself until he could shift his grip,
both small wrists trapped in one of his large hands, his sun-darkened skin still lighter than
hers, and rough. Gently, firmly, he held her, and breathed.
Spices and honey and oil and tea and the scent of her.
He looked her up and down, every lithe inch she had exposed. Lantern-light flickered
on gleaming skin. His gaze followed each dancing shadow, every bright flare.
She shivered at the intensity of that gaze, as hot as his touch, and as welcome. His
mouth was open again. Did his lips tingle, too?
He held her wrists, but she was not immobile. She twisted in his grasp to bring her face
to his, tilted up, and brushed a soft kiss over his mouth. He swore, and let her hands free, his
hands reaching to tangle in her hair, holding her firm as he plunged his tongue between her
open lips.
There was none of the delicacy she had been taught, but far more pleasure, and the
taste of him was hot and urgent and stronger than foreign ice wine. She twined her tongue
with his, darted a teasing tip between his lower lip and teeth, sucked his lip into her mouth
and bit down not quite gently. He learned quickly, copying what he enjoyed; she learned
from that, and discovered likes she had not known she had.
They kissed until they must breathe or die, and broke away only long enough to gasp
for air before returning to their sweet duel.
Pearl Jones
Her hands, freed, roamed his back, his chest, finding his tiny nipples beneath the
padded vest and thick shirt he wore, pinching and flicking in time with her tongue. He
groaned into her mouth, and she swallowed the sound, never ceasing. When the kiss came to
its inevitable end, she loosed his garments and ducked her head to suck the small nubs until
he would have screamed had he not bit down on his own hand.
 Stop. You must. His voice was strained. She ignored him until he pulled her up by
the hair.  Stop.
 Why? She shifted, and saw his eyes go dark and wide at the sight of her breasts
thrusting at him through the thin bit of silk that remained.  Is it your turn?
 Oh, yes. He set his mouth to the cloth and began to suckle.
* * * * *
What people are saying about
Angel is a Centerfold
Pearl Jones has written a very haunting story that will tightly grip the reader and not let her
go until the last page. The reader will be completely swept away into Angelina s dream world
as she reads this poetical, eloquent tale of a young girl s sexual awakening.
-- Valerie, Love Romances
Angel is a Centerfold is a different kind of story featuring a young couple and a purely,
unique plot twist that will keep readers rapt with interest until the very end.
-- Ann Lee, Just Erotic Romance Reviews
Angel is well crafted - warm, mysterious and sensual. The two sides of her personality merge
to create something greater than the girl she once was. Angel is a Centerfold delivers a
unique brand of scorching eroticism and tender passion.
-- Michelle, Fallen Angel Reviews