Counterpart (Succubi & Incubi Assn.) (7 page)

“What did I say about starting trouble, Maya?”

“I still can't believe you managed to start a brawl,” Melinda said
as we walked into my dorm. She shrugged off her jacket and threw it over the
back of the couch. “It's your fault they postponed the last match.”

After the brawl broke out, security came in and separated everyone.
It was lucky no one had called the cops. Melinda and I managed to sneak out
without being pulled in for questioning.

Turned out we weren't the only ones that ditched either. After a few
attempts at trying to get his attention, Tristan had finally looked to me, a
questioning look on his face. A few seconds passed and the look turned into a
glare. I was taken-back by the expression, but once it was there, he was gone.
It was like he was mad at me for what he did. It's not like I couldn't have
handled the situation myself, because I would've eventually got around to it.

“Actually, I'm going to tell him that,” I stated, storming into the
kitchen and grabbing a bottle of vodka. I had a feeling I was going to need it.
Not that I wasn't already feeling the effect of the last alcoholic drink I had.

“What?” Melinda asked.

I paused as I walked back into the lounge. She had a brow arched and
I was momentarily confused by her confusion. “I'm going to call Tristan,” I
said, heading towards my handbag on the floor, searching for my phone.

“Why?”

I found it lying at the bottom and I walked over to sit across from
Melinda. “Because.” I didn't carry on explaining to her why. She was going to
find out when I spoke to him.

I unscrewed the cap off the vodka bottle and scrolled through my
contacts, finding Tristan's name seemed easier than I thought and I pressed
dial. I took a swig of the liquor and felt the burn rush down my throat. It
wasn't the greatest taste, but it was either this or the tequila, and I wasn't
really in the mood to get tequila wasted. It usually ended up with me happy,
not caring, or horny.

“Hello?” Tristan sounded sleepy when he answered, which shouldn't be
right considering he was just at the arena almost an hour ago. The thought soon
slipped my mind when I remembered why I was calling in the first place.

“I could have handled that myself, Tristan. That had absolutely
nothing to do with you.”

There was a short silence and I heard him sigh. “Maya, it's Daniel.”

Huh? I froze and pulled my phone down to see that it was indeed
Daniel that I called and not Tristan. “How the fuck did I fuck that up?” I said,
pulling the phone back to my ear. “Sorry, Daniel.” At least that explains why
he sounded tired.

Melinda perked at the sound of Daniel's name and I heard a squeal
come from her. She was quick to join my side and I was instantly detached from
my phone. “Daniel! Oh my God. I haven't heard from you in forever.”

It was a lost cause to even think about getting my phone back off
her. Once she wanted to talk to someone, she could be a while.

“Oh, I know. Maya and I should totally come over to
Florida
some time.” There was a short
silence. “Why did Maya call with an angry tone?” She turned to face me and I
waved my hand in the air. “You'll actually never guess.” Another short pause.
“That's exactly what she did.”

“Fuck you, guys.” I raised my middle finger. “I'm not that
predictable.”

“Hang on I'll put you on speaker.” Melinda came and sat by my side,
taking the bottle from my hands and placing the phone on the coffee table.
“Okay, you're on.”

“Maya,” Daniel said, his tone like one of a disapproving parent.

“Daniel,” I mimicked.

“Why must you continue to get in trouble?”

“What's that supposed to mean? I'm not that bad.” I looked to
Melinda, my eyes pleading for her to be on my side. “Am I?”

She hesitated. “Well there was that time when you seduced the guy at
the casino to let you place bets.”

“And there was a time when you used your... abilities to seduce your
way into a free hotel room for the night,” Daniel finished off.

“You guys are not supportive. Tonight was not my fault. Okay, I used
a little seduction. That was it. I didn't use enough for him to go into a lust
coma.” I remembered his eyes dilating, and the reaction he was having, even
when his hands weren't on me. “This may sound crazy, but I don't think we were
the only ones there.”

“Well duh, I was there,” Melinda said.

“No, that's not what I meant. Someone was there—someone else was
pursuing his lust. I don't think Melinda and I are the only ones in town,
unless they're from Santa Barbra.”

“Could you gather a scent?” Daniel asked.

“No. If they were in the room, they were freshly vitalized. I
couldn't get a single piece of scent. But it didn't help that there were over a
hundred people there tonight.”

“Most of us can be quite civil,” he continued, “but I know there are
a few succubi and incubi that like to do things their own way. You guys going
to be okay? I can catch a flight over—”

“No, no, you stay in your mansion. I think Melinda wants to make the
trip over there one day. We'll call you if anything comes up. Goodnight,
Daniel. Love you!” I hung up the phone and Melinda switched her attention to
the TV, curious to see what was on at
midnight
. I could already tell her that it was nothing but my mind was
concentrating on calling the right number this time.

“Hello?” The familiarity of his voice confirmed I dialed the right
one.

I was finding it really hard to remember why I was angry at this
guy. “Hey,”

“Hey.” I was taken back by how flat his tone was, and apparently
tipsy Maya didn't like this.

“Well, it was so great to talk to you too, Tristan. Thank you for
tonight, by the way.” The hardness in my voice surprised me momentarily.
Apparently, I could be angry at him.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You didn't have to do that. You shouldn’t have gotten
yourself involved. Now, you’re blaming me for something that I could’ve
handled.” This was the alcohol speaking, then part of it was the sober side of
me speaking—well, what was left of it.

I heard him sigh. “Maya, why are you getting angry?”

“Because you're being weird,” I said. It wasn’t entirely true, but
his voice was letting it off. “Your voice is all dull, like you don't even want
to be on the phone. You even stared at me like it was my fault that you did
what you did. Why am
I
getting angry? It should be why are
you
getting angry?”

Another sigh. “I'm not angry at you, and I’m also not blaming you.”

“Then what's wrong?” I almost sounded like I was pleading to know.

There was a short silence and I wondered if he had hung up, or maybe
I had, then I heard him take a deep breath. “I don't know what came over me
tonight. I saw his hands on you and I felt like ripping them out of his
sockets. The actions I did tonight caused my match to be postponed. But they're
starting to consider if I should even be able a rematch. They think that
because I caused a brawl, that I might have… issues.”

The anger inside me diminished and the want to comfort him was
unbearable. But it angered me at what I was hearing. How dare they think that?
“That's not true. I'll go to them. I'll tell them that you were protecting me—”

“It won't work, Maya,” he said, his tone going hard, “they'll be
making their decision in the next few days. Until then, I'll just have to sit
and wait.”

I felt defeated. I even wanted to do something that would help cheer
him up. “Want to come hang out? Mel and I are drinking.”

He let out a short laugh, but even I could tell it was forced. “As
much as I would, I can’t. Tori's coming over, maybe another time?”

My mood dropped. Of all names he could have said, he had to say
her
.
“Yeah, sure.” Now my voice was flat.

It was either he was ignoring my mood altogether, or he just wanted
to get off, because all he said next was, “I'll see you around, M.”

When the call ended, I looked down at my phone. Did he just tell me
he'd
see me around
? What does that even mean? He doesn't plan on talking
to me tomorrow or something, but he'll
see me around
? I know if I told
someone that, I'd secretly be saying, 'I'll see you when I randomly bump into
you on the street or something'. Or I could just be over-thinking things. As
drunk as I am, it's probably that. Plus I'm a girl—we look into these types of
things.

It still wasn't helping me, and the fact that Barbie was going over
only let out the immature side. “Tori's coming over,” I mimicked his words.
“We're going to have PG-13 foreplay and watch cartoon porn.” So maybe I added a
few words in there. I threw my phone onto the couch, not wanting to see it
until I woke up. “What the hell does he see in her anyway?”

“Blonde hair, fake books, probably ass implants. Something you'd get
from a thrift store,” Melinda said, the vodka bottle resting between her legs.

“There has to be something else.” Could there be something else?
“Maybe they're having secret sex behind the scenes.”

“Yeah, because that's it,” she replied sarcastically, “or maybe
you're just jealous and over thinking it?”

“I'm not jealous,” I replied oddly quick.

“You are.” Melinda held the bottle towards me. “Here have a drink.
Drunken thoughts tell sober truths or some shit like that.”

“I'm not,” I mumbled, taking the bottle from her hand and drinking
back half of what remained. I wasn't jealous was I? I mean, yeah I disliked
Tori, and yeah there are times when I want to just have Tristan all to myself,
but that didn't mean I was jealous. Right?

I don't even think I have a jealous bone inside me.

An image of Tori and Tristan having sex flashed in mind and it sent
an off feeling in the pit of my stomach. It literally felt like my whole body
sunk. It was unfamiliar. And, I was honestly too drunk to even process it. My
demon didn't like this new feeling and she let me know. I leaned forward and
pressed my fingers against my temple, trying to soothe the headache that had
suddenly appeared.

Could you please stop it? I'm not in the mood for your shit, demon.

The headache expanded, pounding against my skull and I cringed.

“Shit, Maya. Your lust scent is stinking up the place. I thought you
killed it in the bathroom.”

“I did,” I grumbled, “she wants another round.”

“Well, it's lucky I know a good place to go. Come on.” She pushed
off the couch and pulled her jacket on.

The headache was still pressuring against my skull and I stood. If I
wanted to get a decent amount of sleep tonight, I needed to please the bitch
inside.

****

The club we arrived at was packed with drunks. It was the closest
one to the campus, so there were a few students here and there. It was a
different atmosphere than being at the arena. The air smelt like sex and
alcohol—two things that were practically handed to you. My demon had stopped
giving me a migraine on the way here, making my concentration better. Usually
when she gathered the idea that I was going to do what she wanted me to do, she
fucked off.

“They look like liable subjects,” Melinda whispered suggestively.
She nodded her head across the room and I followed her line of sight to spot
two guys sitting at a table. They were watching the crowds, their eyes
traveling to places they knew they couldn't get. I noticed one of the guys had
his hand under the table, resting it on the bulge that had constricted at the
sight of the female population in here.

Gross.
“Really? Look closer.”

She narrowed her eyes on them and studied until she found what I
had. “Ew perverts. They're never fun.”

Unfortunately, I had grown sober. Another bad thing about having a
demon was that they had a high tolerance for alcohol, so I didn't stay drunk
for long. It sucked because we didn't know anyone at this club which meant we
couldn't get drinks. Well we could, but we wouldn't want a repeat of earlier
on. There was always the alternative though.

I scanned the floor. Bodies moved against each other simultaneously,
make out sessions were at every corner while a few people kept themselves in
the dark. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to know what they were doing.
They couldn't get a room for that, seriously?

My eyes continued moving over the heads until they stopped by the
bar. “Bingo.” Two males stood over at a table, each of them holding some sort
of drink. They looked to be in their early to mid-twenties. Tall and broad, our
favorite.

“My demon likes the one on the right,” Melinda stated, picking her
dibs before I could even tell her who I was looking at. I looked to the one she
referred to. The guy had an aroma about him that instantly said
man
,
while his companion seemed more civil, yet disclosed, defensive and alert. He
was obviously going to be a bit harder to convince than Melinda’s choice.