Incubus Inc Read online

  It wasn’t until he’d spent a decade on a mortal lower plane that he understood how harmful that could be to people.

  Lauren knocked on the closed door to an office, then simply opened it.

  “Hi Matt, I brought your nine o’clock over for you,” she said as Sam walked into the office.

  “What? I don’t have—you, get out. Get out of my office,” said a man sitting behind a desk.

  He was probably in his thirties, with short brown hair combed under what Sam could only think of as a leather cap. He had blue eyes, and he was on the fairer side in the looks department.

  “Sorry, Lauren, seems Matt wants you to get out,” Sam said, looking at the woman. “He’s clearly in a bad mood. It’s alright though. You dropped me off for my interview, and you’re going to go back to your duties now.”

  “Hey, who are you? What are you—Lauren? Where are you going?” said the man Sam assumed was Matt.

  “Of course. See you later, Matt,” Lauren said, closing the door.

  “Wonderful,” Sam said, and he took a seat in front of Matt. Staring at the man’s face, Sam waited until he made eye contact.

  Instantly, Sam snared the man and brought him into a compulsion similar to what he’d put on Lauren.

  “You… what… what are you?” Matt said, his worlds trailing off toward neutrality. “You’re my nine o’clock interview?”

  “I sure am. I’m here for the manager position,” Sam said, smiling.

  “Oh. We already hired someone for that. We just haven’t announced it,” Matt said, staring blankly at Sam.

  “That’s a problem. Hm. What other open positions do you have?” Sam asked.

  “We’re going to open a supervisor role tomorrow. I’m going to use it to hire a friend, but I’m not interviewing anyone for it,” Matt said.

  “That’s not very fair of you, Matt. That’s very nepotistic,” Sam said. “But that’s ok. Because you’re going to hire me for the supervisor role instead.”

  “You’re right. I’m not very fair. But I’m going to hire you for the role,” Matt said.

  “Exactly. Go ahead and start pushing everything through the system for me,” Sam said.

  “I’ll start pushing everything through for you,” Matt said. “I’ll need your ID, so—”

  “I don’t have it, because I gave it to you and you lost it. So you’ll put me through anyways while you try to find it,” Sam said.

  “Right. I’m sorry I lost your ID. I’ll get this all taken care of while I try to find it,” Matt said.

  “Great, great. Now. What’s my pay?” Sam asked.

  “Pay starts at fifty-six thousand a year, and—”

  “What’s the maximum a supervisor can make?” Sam asked, interrupting the man.

  “Seventy thousand is what we pay—”

  “I’ll take seventy thousand. You’ll need to pay me with checks, since you lost my ID,” Sam said.

  “Okay. Seventy thousand, cashable check,” Matt repeated.

  “Now, let’s work out the details, Matt,” Sam said, smiling.

  ***

  Standing outside the lobby door, Sam smiled and waved at a rather lovely looking lady leaving the building. She was dressed well, with a good figure and a rather pretty face, dark brown eyes and brown hair.

  He was five minutes early, but he’d completed everything he’d needed to get done today.

  Unfortunately, it’d left him starving.

  Right now, every woman looked like a walking feast to him. It was somewhat difficult to not hit one with a charm and drag her behind a building.

  The pretty lady tripped as she stepped off the curb and had to break eye contact with him.

  “What are you doing?! Why are you here!?”

  Turning, Sam found Abigail standing at the door. Her face was bright red, and she looked appalled.

  “Why, waiting for you of course, Abby,” Sam said easily as Abigail walked up to him. “You said to pick you up at six; I’m picking you up at six.”

  Several people walked out the door, every single one of them stopping to look at Abigail and Sam.

  “No!” Abigail hissed. “I said to… I said to meet me in the car, in the parking lot. Not here!”

  “Ah, my apologies then. Shall we go? I’d like to hear about your day, eat dinner, and make plans,” Sam said. He didn’t understand the problem, but he was happy to figure it out.

  Communication was the basis of any relationship, from Sam’s point of view.

  “Shut up!” Abigail said, grabbing his arm and dragging him into the parking lot.

  Sam shrugged. He was as perfectly happy not talking as he was talking. After being alone for so long, he’d learned to tolerate almost anything.

  “I parked where you told me to,” he said.

  Abigail didn’t say anything, just growled under her breath as she hustled him along.

  They walked by the pretty lady Sam had seen earlier.

  “H-hello,” she said to Sam, ignoring Abigail.

  “Hi there,” Sam said, waving a hand at her. Then he turned and offered Abigail the keys as they got closer to her car.

  Maybe I can feed from her later.

  Abigail angrily took the keys from Sam’s hand and opened the driver’s side door. “Get in!”

  By the time he got into the car, Sam was confused. Abigail was acting much like some of his contracts had that he’d spent some time with.

  But usually only after they’d started sleeping together.

  “What’s the problem?” he asked. “We’re not sleeping together, and I need to feed. She seemed perfectly willing.”

  “Yeah. No. I mean… ugh,” Abigail said, starting the car. “People think I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Okay?” Sam asked.

  “And they’re going to think you’re my boyfriend now,” Abigail said.

  “Well, tell them I’m not. Simple as that,” Sam said. “Anyways. How was work? Anything interesting?”

  “No. Just… work. Ya know?” Abigail buckled her seatbelt. Then she sighed and put her face in her hands. “Another day answering calls and listening to rich assholes complain their three-hundred-dollar sunglasses broke.”

  “I can see how that’s frustrating,” Sam said.

  It wasn’t a new complaint. He’d heard it throughout the ages and on different planes.

  Life was much the same in every corner of existence. It just wore different disguises.

  “How was your day?” Abigail asked.

  “Good. I got a job, by the way. I even managed to talk them into letting me start immediately. I start tomorrow,” Sam said. “I also have a driver’s license, social security card, birth certificate, incoming credit card incoming, and a bank account now.”

  “You… did all that in one day? How?” Abigail asked, starting the car and putting it into reverse.

  “Magic,” Sam said. “Alright. Let’s go home, have dinner, and then I’ll go find a meal for myself.”

  Three - New-Age Dining -

  Rubbing a hand against his forehead, Sam walked out of the “night club” as it had been called.

  To him, it seemed more like a bar with the lights turned low, loud music that he didn’t really like, and a lot of men who really needed to reevaluate their lives.

  Sighing, Sam went down the steps and started walking along the sidewalk. So far, he hadn’t had much luck in finding anyone who fit what he was looking for.

  Admittedly, he was being picky, but he felt like that was acceptable. He could have easily just taken the nice lady in the booth at the parking garage he had parked in. Taken her right there in the booth or gotten her into his back seat.

  But that would have entailed glamouring her to the point that she wouldn’t remember it, not caring if she had a significant other or not, and not giving a damn about her situation.

  And I’m above that. No matter how hungry I am, I’m above that.

  Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Sam kept walking. He wasn’
t starving to death, but he really did want to have a nice meal so he could work some Essence sorcery without regret or worry tomorrow.

  Glancing up and to the side, he crossed by a billboard that showed the time as ten o’clock.

  Still early. We can make this work. We just have to be… strategic.

  Let’s try an actual bar. Those seem a lot like taverns. And we always had decent luck in taverns.

  It’ll certainly be easier to talk to someone.

  The several conversations he’d tried to strike up with ladies in the club had turned into shouting matches. And they still hadn’t been loud enough to communicate effectively.

  A trio of women were heading his way. They were dressed well and seemed a step above the women he’d been approaching at the club.

  Wearing clothes that seemed like they’d gone out after work, they had the look of professional career women.

  They were eying him long before he got close to them.

  “Ah, excuse me,” Sam said, stepping to one side and out of the path of the women. He didn’t want to be in their way, but he’d take the opportunity to ask a question. “I’m new around town. If you don’t mind me asking, do you know a good place to get a drink around here?”

  Two of the women looked like they wanted to stay and talk, but also that they felt like they shouldn’t. That was usually a good sign they were in relationships. The third looked like she just wanted to leave.

  “Alcohol or…?” asked one of the women.

  “Either or. Like I said, I’m new here. I know no one and nothing,” Sam said with a grin.

  Chewing at her lip, the woman pointed back the way they’d apparently come from.

  “Down that way. The Winged Horn,” she said. “If you’re looking for alcohol, that is. There’s a coffee shop just past it as well.”

  “Thanks much,” Sam said, giving them another smile. Then he turned and walked in the direction they’d suggested.

  It didn’t take him long to find the place. Except when he stared up at the sign, he got a strange feeling about it.

  He’d been expecting a drinking horn for some reason. Except this was a horn of the musical variety. And it had wings attached to it.

  Angel symbology.

  If there’s an angel inside, we’ll just turn around and get out of here. I don’t have the patience or time to deal with one of them right now.

  Sam walked up the steps, then opened the door and stepped inside.

  It was much closer to what he’d been looking for. And he knew it the moment he saw it.

  The music was there, TVs in the corners and over the main bar, and a lot of people sitting, talking, drinking, and generally just socializing.

  Much… much better.

  Smiling, Sam walked over to the bar and looked through the crowd as he went.

  Not a large number of paranormal creatures, but they’re here. This might be ideal. Vampire… Werewolf… and… what is that?

  Looks like there’s been a new generation of things that aren’t human. I wonder what created them.

  More diseases, maybe? Diseases tend to make monsters.

  Sam was a master of illusion and glamour. No one could hide what they were from him.

  In any way.

  But he did have to know what they were. The fact that the world was changing was a blessing and a curse. It meant there were always new things to learn. No matter how many years he’d been around.

  Sliding up into an open spot at the bar, Sam leaned on the counter and waited with a smile for a bartender.

  All around him, he got the feeling that a good number of women were giving him the once-over.

  This is perfect.

  A young busty woman in a tank top wandered over his way from the other side of the bar. She had caramel eyes and short, curly, light brown hair. She was rather pretty on top of all that, with an impressive body-shape.

  “What can I get you?” she asked.

  “Whatever you recommend,” Sam said, then pushed ever so gently when she met his eyes. “And thanks for buying me the round.”

  “Of course!” she said, giving him a wide, flirty smile. “Haven’t seen you around before—why not buy you your first one? You’re new here, right? What’s your name?”

  “Call me Sam. How about you?”

  “Cindy,” she said as she pulled a glass out from below.

  “And yeah, I’m very new. Any regulars I should stay away from?” he asked her, keeping her ensnared with his eyes. He was keeping the glamour light and gentle. He didn’t want to overwhelm her. As long as he could keep her like this, he could keep her on the hook, and no one would notice anything out of the ordinary.

  “The owner, really. She’s a bitch,” said the woman, filling up the glass from a tap. “All the regulars are nice enough. The bitch over there can be a nasty cunt if you get her on a bad day.”

  The bartender had pointed out the lone Vampire in the crowd, Sam noted.

  “Got it. You’ve been incredibly helpful,” Sam said. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “Kinda. He’s a dick though, and I’ve been thinking about dropping him. I can’t keep paying for our stuff by myself, ya know?” she asked.

  “You’re right, of course. You deserve someone who’s putting in just as much as you are,” Sam said. It was a common problem he’d seen with relationships. If someone put in more than the other, the resentment began.

  “I do,” said the woman as she put a small paper square down in front of him. It had “Cindy” written on it, followed by a phone number. She set the glass down atop it, giving him a smile and a wink. Then she wandered off to the next person she needed to serve.

  Alright, definitely doing better here already.

  Clubs are… not what I wanted.

  He pocketed the paper for later, as he had every intention of coming back if he couldn’t find anyone. Cindy fit all his requirements, and she was great on the eyes.

  Sam picked up his drink and started looking around for someone to approach.

  The whole goal of tonight was to find someone to eat from. He was also learning a considerable amount about the current state of the world.

  “…two years ago marks the anniversary of when they were first seen,” said a news anchor on the TV. “And haven’t been seen since.”

  Sam glanced up at the display with a grimace before he looked back at the crowd around him.

  Always the gloom and doom with the news.

  Oh! An Imp! What luck. And she doesn’t have any contract magic in her that I can sense.

  Off to one side was a young woman. She was seated by herself and looking at the watch on her wrist. Her other hand held a drink that looked rather empty.

  She had long red hair, with a few clips in it so that it hung behind her but still had a style.

  Her eyes were blue with long, thin, green strands of color coming out from the pupil. She was wearing what he’d call a business suit, and she was probably in her mid to late twenties.

  This’ll be perfect. I can feed from her and then contract her as my first Imp. I’ll just have to make the right pitch.

  Picking up his drink, Sam walked over to the woman.

  “Hello there,” he said, waiting for her to look up at him.

  It was important to have Imps in a planar lord’s retinue. They could be fed Essence, travel the planes, and remain indefinitely without being summoned.

  They were crucial, in fact.

  Lifting her head up, the woman brought her eyes up to his. She froze in place as she stared at him. Like a rabbit staring down a snake.

  Finally, she blinked.

  “H-h-hello,” she said, her drink clattering to the table in front of her as it slipped from her stiff fingers.

  With a clunk, her glass hit the table and her hand shot forward to grab it. As if it were a snake that was about to bite her.

  In trying to save her drink, she only managed to knock it over, the entire contents of the glass spilling out onto her lap.r />
  “Damnit,” she cursed, leaping to one side. “Just one thing after another.”

  Sam easily picked up the glass and set it right side up. Grabbing a dispenser of napkins from a nearby table, he pulled out a handful and immediately handed them to the woman.

  “I’d offer to do it myself, but that might be a bit forward,” Sam said.

  “Uh, yeah,” said the woman, taking the napkins. She began blotting at the fabric, the frown on her face wide and unhappy.

  “I just bought this, too,” she complained.

  “You could always just use some Essence magic, could you not? It’s only fabric,” Sam asked. He’d decided to play it straight with her in his approach. If she was to be his first, he’d need her trust.

  Your First Imp must be someone you rely on.

  Sam didn’t let his thoughts get away from him. He’d learned his lesson—no reason to dwell on it.

  “What? The hell is Essence magic?” said the woman. “You’re not one of those crazies, are you?”

  “What…? Wait, you—” Sam paused mid-sentence. Looking around, he realized no one had noticed she’d spilled on herself.

  He reached out to his stash of Essence on his home plane. He could always access the Essence there, even if he was elsewhere. With it, he crafted a sliver-thin thread and pushed it into the woman.

  An aura surrounded her for a split second as her soul devoured the Essence in a flash.

  It was clearly the first time she’d ever experienced Essence. Which meant she probably didn’t even know she was an Imp.

  “That,” Sam said when the woman looked at him again. Her eyes were wide, shocked. “Use that. Just… wish away the stain and the liquid. Concentrate on it with your thoughts.”

  It was a sloppy way to do Essence sorcery, but a great starting point for the untrained.

  “What’d you do? I can… Everything…” The woman stopped talking, then looked down at her own dress.

  Sam felt the flash of unstable, unguided, and unfocused magic. Suddenly, the woman’s dress was clean and dry.

  “Oh my god,” she murmured. “Oh my god. Am I drunk? What? Is this a dream?”

  “No dream,” Sam said. “For all your life, you’ve felt different. Strange. Perhaps even like you didn’t understand other people.