Sebastian

brewing the koffea beans.
    What would it be like to rise in the first wisps of dawn and come out to the kitchen to grind the beans while someone who truly mattered was snuggled in his bed, waiting to be awakened with a nuzzle and a kiss—and a cup of freshly brewed koffee? What would it be like to stand outside, cup in hand, and watch the day come alive?
    Sebastian shook his head. Why was he rubbing salt into emotional wounds, thinking about things that couldn't be? He lived in the Den of Iniquity, which consisted of a few blocks of crowded buildings and cobblestone streets—a place that, most likely, had been an unsavory part of some large city, nothing but a dark smudge in a daylight landscape. Then a Landscaper had altered the world, turning those streets into a separate landscape, and that had changed the feel of living on those streets, had changed the taverns, gambling houses, and brothels into a carnal carnival.
    But it was more than a place where human vices were openly enjoyed, more than a place where humans who didn't fit into the daylight landscapes and demons like the incubi and succubi could live. The Den was at the center of a cluster of dark landscapes some of Ephemera's demon races claimed as their own.
    It was a place where those demons could purchase supplies or buy a drink in a tavern without being hated or driven away because they weren't human.
    It was also a place that had its roots in the darker side of the human heart, a place where the sun never rose.
    He'd been a bitter fifteen-year-old boy when he'd stumbled into the Den. Having escaped his father's control two years before, he'd disappeared into the landscapes and struggled to survive. The dark human landscapes were too desperate and frightening even for a boy whose demon nature eclipsed whatever human blood might flow through his veins, but the people in the daylight landscapes didn't want something like him living among them, and he'd been driven out of village after village as soon as the people realized he was an incubus—and that hunger for the emotions that were produced by sex was something that couldn't be hidden or denied for long.
    So when he found the Den and felt the dark, edgy, carnival tone of the place, he'd embraced it with all his heart because he'd finally found a place where being an incubus didn't make him an outcast, a place where the never-ending night suited who and what he was—a place where he could belong.
    And he still belonged here. The Den was his home. But now, as a man who had recently turned thirty…
    I'm so tired of the night.
    A sudden yearning for something washed through him, making his heart ache, filling him with a need and a longing so powerful it staggered him. He braced his hands on the counter and waited for the feeling to pass. It always did.
    But the yearning had never been this powerful before, had never swept through him like this. Didn't matter. Those feelings came and went—and nothing changed.
    Disgusted with himself for not being content with what he had, he plucked a mug off the wooden stand—
    and almost dropped it when someone knocked on the cottages front door. He never brought anyone to his home, never invited anyone to visit. The only two people who ignored that demand for privacy were his human cousins, Glorianna and Lee, and neither of them would sound so hesitant about applying knuckles to wood.
    He'd just ignore it; that's what he'd do. He'd ignore it, and whoever—whatever—was on the other side of the door would go away.
    The door creaked open. Sebastian's heart pumped against his chest as he set the mug on the counter, careful to make no sound. Just as silently, he eased the biggest knife he had out of the wood block.

    Maybe he wouldn't win, but he'd go down fighting.
    "Sebastian?" a voice called. "Sebastian? You here?"
    He knew that voice , but he still hesitated. Then he swore silently and slipped the knife back into its slot.
    There were very few things in the Den that couldn't be bought, but trust was one of them.
    Moving to the doorway that separated the kitchen from the main living area, he peered into the room and studied his visitor.
    The other incubus stood on the threshold, almost bouncing with nerves. Yet his eyes were bright with curiosity as he looked at the simple furniture and the framed sketches on the walls.
    "What do you want, Teaser?" Sebastian asked.
    If Teaser noticed the harsh note in Sebastian's voice, he ignored it and bounded into the main