Knox (Monsters of Veridia #1)

Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

"This has to be some kind of elaborate prank," Adrian muttered under his breath as he guided Knox back to the apartment. He shot a sideways glance at the man walking beside him. Even with his clothes torn and mud-splattered, the man looked so much like the real thing it was uncanny.

He looked exactly like Adrian had always imagined he would.

"This world…" Knox muttered, "it’s so devoid of magic. Like a song with no melody." His gaze swept over the streetlights and passing cars, a frown creasing his brow.

Adrian shivered. He was starting to regret not calling the police—or at least a mental health professional. But how did you explain to a psychiatrist that a fictional demon had fallen through your roof?

He pushed open the door to the building, ushering Knox inside.

When they made it up to the apartment, Evelyn walked out of Adrian’s room to welcome them back. "Adrian, dear," she said, her voice calm despite the chaos that had just unfolded. "I’m afraid your room is out of commission for the night."

"I gathered as much, Grandma," Adrian replied, suppressing a groan. He didn’t even want to think of the damage the storm and the broken skylight must have caused.

Evelyn patted his shoulder. "I’ll ready the sofa bed for you and our guest. Don’t worry, we’ll sort this out in the morning."

"Wait, hold on—" Adrian started to protest, but Evelyn was already bustling toward the linen closet, leaving him alone with Knox—who he was supposed to be sharing a bed with tonight?

Yeah, no.

That was not going to happen.

Adrian swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. Maybe the damage to his bedroom wasn’t all that bad? Maybe he could sleep there after all?

He’d have to check.

Without another word or an explanation to the man who’d quite literally fallen into his life tonight, he opened the door to his room.

Shards of glass glittered on the floor, rain had soaked his carpet and his bed, and the storm had whipped various little figurines from his shelves. Adrian gathered them up, checking each one for damage. He was turning a likeness of the Shadow King over in his hand when Knox entered the room.

"What do you have there?"

"Nothing." Adrian put the figurine down on his desk.

Knox didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, but his gaze was drawn away from Adrian and to the posters on the wall.

Well… that wasn’t better.

"These are paintings of me and my friends."

Right. Knox was going to keep up the act. Heat crept up the back of Adrian’s neck as he glanced at his bed where he had a large body pillow with a print of a very naked Knox on it. At least the man hadn’t seen that yet.

He needed to get the incubus, or cosplayer, or whatever he was out of this room.

"They’re not paintings," he said. "They’re posters." If he could keep the man’s gaze fixed on the posters, at least he might not notice some of the other things in the room. Adrian’s skin heated.

How the hell was this happening to him?

What was happening to him?

Was someone playing a very elaborate prank? Had his last blog post pissed someone off and this was their revenge?

That didn’t make sense. None of this made sense.

Knox turned to him. "Why do you have these… posters… on your walls? Is this a place of worship of sorts?" Knox looked at the pendant around Adrian’s neck again, eyes narrowed. "Do you work for the Night Court? Do you worship the Lady of the Night?"

The Night Church wasn’t real. Adrian wanted to scream.

Except that he didn’t think that Knox would be very impressed with him if he screamed.

"I don’t worship anything or anyone," Adrian said, though he was very aware that the decor of his room called him a liar.

Knox wasn’t listening anyway. He’d spotted the body pillow on Adrian’s bed, and when Adrian followed where his gaze had landed, he fervently wished that the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

Before, he hadn’t been sure if he was dreaming. Now he was certain he was having a nightmare.

"What is this?" Knox asked. "A naked depiction of me?"

Adrian turned away, unable to face the man. This was too much. From the corner of his eyes, though, he saw Knox pick up the pillow and study it in detail.

"It’s not very accurate," Knox mused.

"What do you mean?" Adrian made himself ask, forcing the words through a throat that felt too tight to speak at all.

"I’m bigger than this."

What? Now Adrian had to turn and look—only to see Knox examining the depiction of his groin area. The man on the pillow was decently hung. Adrian had never once thought that he looked small. "No way," he said without thinking.

Knox raised an eyebrow at him. "You don’t believe me when I say this is inaccurate?"

Adrian’s eyes shot down to Knox’s groin before he could stop himself. The man was wearing pants, but they weren’t hiding everything—in fact, they weren’t designed to hide anything. Adrian knew that from the books; Knox liked to show off what he had. He was an incubus after all. Not that this Knox could be an incubus, but there was a decent bulge there and…

"Fuck," Adrian whispered, forcing himself to look away.

"I’m a grower," Knox said with a hint of amusement. "Would you like to see? I can show you."

"No!" Adrian said quickly. He did not want this stranger to undress in his bedroom. "I don’t know why you crashed through my skylight or what’s going on with you, but this is harrassment."

"Harrassment?" Knox echoed. "You’ve got paintings showing me naked and I’m fairly certain you were sizing me up."

"What the fuck am I supposed to do when you’re running around pretending to be someone you’re not!" Adrian exploded. He couldn’t take any more of this. He was not the creep here. "You need to take off those damn horns and stop messing with me. This isn’t funny anymore!"

Knox didn’t react with anger as Adrian had expected. Instead, his expression turned serious, a flicker of something dangerous sparking in his eyes. And then, those eyes began to glow like molten gold—just like they did in the books. And that wasn’t all. Shadows danced around him, tendrils of darkness that snaked across the floor and curled around Adrian’s ankles like vines.

Adrenaline shot through Adrian’s system, stealing the breath from his lungs. His heart pounded against his ribs.

How could this be happening?

"I’m not pretending," Knox said in a low tone of voice. "This is who I am."

Adrian stared at him, at the glowing eyes, at the shadows that danced to an unheard melody. This was no trick of the light, no elaborate cosplay.

"How?" he whispered.

The shadows retreated and Knox’s eyes returned to their regular color. Still, Adrian could not stop staring at him. This was the man he’d been fantasizing about for the past three years. His fictional crush.

In the real world.

His mind rebelled.

"How is this possible?" he asked, a little louder this time.

Knox, the real incubus standing in his room, turned to the posters again, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I don’t know, but I am thinking that my enemies somehow banished me to a realm without magic, or very little magic." He shook his head, glancing at Adrian again. "I showed you a glimpse of my powers but I could not keep them up for long. There is no ambient magic to draw from. The only possible source…" he stopped without finishing the sentence as if he thought better of it.

Adrian didn’t need him to say it, though.

If this was Knox… if this was truly Knox…

Adrian knew his powers and capabilities. He’d spent the past three years reading all five hundred chapters of Monsters of Veridia again and again. Knox could draw some power from the magic around him, but that was never his main power source.

His main power source was other people.

Sexual energy.

Adrian swallowed hard as Knox’s gaze lingered on him.

How often had Adrian fantasized about becoming one of Knox’s willing victims? He pictured himself underneath the incubus. Entirely in his grasp, a slave to the pleasure the monster drew from him. He loved those fantasies. They’d gotten him through some rough nights.

But they couldn’t become reality.

"No," he said, even though Knox had not made a single move toward him. "I don’t know what’s happening," Adrian stammered, "but… I know what you can do, and I don’t… I can’t…" Fuck, he couldn’t even get the words out.

"Easy," Knox said, holding up both of his hands as if he knew exactly what was going on with Adrian. He probably did. That was part of his abilities. Reading people, toying with their emotions, making them want things.

He couldn’t do that with Adrian. Adrian wouldn’t let him.

Adrian backed away, bumping into his desk. He needed to get out of here. Now. "I need some air," he choked out, scrambling for the door. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight with Knox so close. The shadows might have retreated, but he still felt them crawling all over his skin.

He slipped past Knox and out of his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the wood, his chest heaving. What was he supposed to do? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Knox was a fictional character, a figment of someone else’s imagination.

He wasn’t real.

Except he clearly was.

Adrian stumbled toward the living room, desperate for space, for a moment to process the impossible.

But the living room offered no solace. The sofa bed, unfolded and made up with fresh sheets, mocked him. It was bad enough that Knox had turned his world upside down, but now Adrian was expected to share a bed with the demon?

Adrian’s thoughts spiraled. He pictured himself lying there, mere inches from Knox, the heat of the other man’s body a tangible presence. He knew what Knox was capable of, the seductive power he wielded, the way he could make someone crave his touch.

It was what had always made him so appealing to Adrian. In Adrian’s dreams at least.

"Are you two about ready for bed?" His grandmother’s voice startled him. She stood in the doorway to her own bedroom. "I think I’m going to turn in myself."

Adrian wanted to tell her that he could not do this, but what help could his grandmother offer him? Could he ask her to sleep on the sofa in his stead?

No.

Dear God, he could never ask his grandmother to sleep next to an incubus.

"I just… need a minute," he said, trying for a smile. "Still processing everything."

"It’s certainly been an interesting night," she said.

Adrian made himself nod. "Very interesting."

He took a deep breath. Then, with a plan in his head, he opened the door to his room again.

Knox was studying all the merchandise on his shelves with obvious interest. "What are all these trinkets?"

"They’re nothing." Adrian licked his lips. "You can sleep on the sofa in the living room. We’ll talk in the morning." If Knox had been anyone else, Adrian might have tugged on his arm to pull him out of the room, but he didn’t dare touch the incubus.

Knox turned to him. "Weren’t we supposed to share the sofa?"

"Yeah, change of plans. I’m staying here. So if you could just leave the room." Adrian fixed his gaze on a spot on the wall just next to Knox’s head. He couldn’t look at the incubus straight-on.

This was all too weird. Too fucking weird.

"You can’t mean to stay in this room," Knox said, looking around. "It’s a mess, and it’s my fault. If anyone should suffer the consequences of my entrance into this realm, it should be me."

"No, really, it’s fine. Just go." Please just go.

Knox didn’t say or do anything for a moment as if he was contemplating the situation, or his next move. "Why are you scared of me?" he asked finally.

That question was way too loaded for Adrian to answer. He wanted to lie and say that he wasn’t, but he knew there would have been no point. Knox could likely tell.

Seriously, what was wrong with him?

He should be in heaven right now. His impossible fictional crush, his book boyfriend , had literally materialized in the real world. In his bed room.

And he was terrified.

He’d known he had issues, but damn. He bit his lower lip, hard.

"Please just go."

Knox waited another long moment, watching him. Then, finally, he moved past Adrian, out of the room.

Adrian exhaled as the door clicked shut behind Knox. He could breathe again.

Inhaling, he rubbed his face.

Why did he have to be such a fucking coward?

Knox stood in the middle of the living room, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. The beige walls and mundane furniture felt alien to him, a far cry from the grandeur of the Shadow Court—where he should have been. His mind raced with unanswered questions.

Where in the seven hells was he? And what of his companions who had ventured into the shadow realm with him? Had they been scattered to the winds as well, cast adrift in this strange, magicless world?

He began to pace with restless energy. As he moved, his gaze fell upon a peculiar device resting on the coffee table. It was a small, rectangular object with an array of buttons, each one marked with cryptic symbols. Curiosity getting the better of him, Knox reached out and pressed one of the buttons.

Instantly, a large, flat rectangle on the wall flickered to life, bathing the room in a soft, flickering glow. Music and images poured forth from it, like some sort of arcane scrying pool. Knox stared, transfixed by the moving pictures, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

Was he gazing at people far away?

Was this a sorcerer’s work?

Adrian’s grandmother poked her head back into the room, drawn by the noise, no doubt.

"Is everything alright, dear?" she asked. "I heard the television turn on."

‘Television.’ Was that what the device was called? "My apologies," Knox said. "I’m not familiar with this." He waved the small rectangular object in his hand.

The old woman shot him an odd look, then she smiled and took the object from him. With the press of another button, she turned the television off. "Let’s not worry about that tonight, all right?" She looked at the sofa bed. "Where did my grandson go? He did not leave you by yourself, did he?"

"I believe he needed some space."

A shadow stole across the woman’s face. "That boy," she murmured sadly. "He doesn’t mean to be rude, I’m sure. He’s just had a bit of bad luck with people, I’m afraid."

Knox regarded the old woman curiously. What sort of misfortune had befallen Adrian to make him so skittish and withdrawn? He could sense the vulnerability emanating from the young man, a wound in his soul that called to the darker, predatory side of Knox’s nature.

The side of him that wanted to reach out and touch Adrian. To exploit him. To still his hunger.

He knew Adrian wanted it too…

Was his 'bad luck' responsible for his denial?

It wasn’t any of Knox’s business.

"I won’t pry," he said, offering the grandmother a reassuring smile. "But perhaps you could tell me more about this world I find myself in? It’s all quite foreign to me. Also, could you tell me your name?"

"Evelyn." She smiled at him. "How is my world different from your world?"

Knox considered the question, relieved that Evelyn was more reasonable than her grandson. At least she didn’t ask him to prove his identity. "For one," Knox said, "there doesn’t seem to be any magic here."

Evelyn’s face took on a thoughtful expression. "I wouldn’t say that. There is magic in this world, but you have to know where to look for it."

Knox wasn’t sure what to make of that. The magic was hiding? Thinking, he tried a different question. "And what of the images in Adrian’s room? The ones that bear my likeness?"

"Ah, those. They’re from a story, you see. A fictional tale called Monsters of Veridia . My grandson is quite taken with it, especially with the character of Knox. I suppose that’s why he was so startled by your appearance."

That made even less sense than this world’s magic being hidden. "A fictional tale? About me?"

"It’s either about you or about someone who looks remarkably like you." She gave him another smile. "I must say your outfit is quite well made, though it could use a wash. Why don’t I find you some clothes to sleep in and we can get those cleaned?"

Before Knox could protest, Evelyn disappeared down a hallway and returned a moment later, holding a neatly folded set of pajamas. "Here we are," she chirped, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "These should fit you. They were meant for my son, but… well, let’s just say I changed my mind."

Knox stared at the pajamas she held out to him. They were a vibrant shade of blue, covered in a pattern of yellow rubber ducks. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. "Are you sure these are appropriate?"

Evelyn chuckled, a surprisingly hearty sound. "Oh, don’t worry yourself about appropriate."

He took the pajamas from her, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and absurdity. This entire night had been utterly surreal, and now he was expected to sleep in something that looked like it belonged on a child. He couldn’t imagine any of his fellow incubi or succubi wearing something so… whimsical."Thank you," he managed, trying to sound gracious.

"You’re very welcome, dear," Evelyn said, patting his arm with a warmth that surprised him. "Now, you get some sleep. We’ll figure all this out tomorrow."

Knox nodded, still trying to wrap his mind around his bizarre situation. A story about him? A world without magic? And now, these peculiar sleeping clothes? It was all too much to process.

As Evelyn bid him goodnight and left the room, Knox found himself alone once more. He looked down at the pajamas in his hands, then at the sofa bed that had been prepared for him. With a sigh, he began to undress, carefully folding his own clothes and setting them aside.

The pajamas felt strange against his skin, the fabric far softer than the leather he was accustomed to. And the ducks… he couldn’t help but feel a bit ridiculous as he looked down at himself.

But ridiculous or not, the pajamas were comfortable, and the sofa bed looked inviting. Exhaustion began to tug at him as the events of the night caught up with him. He settled onto the bed, pulling the covers over himself.

As he lay there, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, Knox’s mind churned with unanswered questions. How had he come to be here? What had happened to his companions? And how was he going to find his way back home?