Sebastian

the gut felt like.
    His little rabbit cleaned up too damn well. Wholesome and pretty, sweet and a little shy. And uncertain.
    Definitely uncertain. As if some part of her that should have bloomed into something glorious had been savagely pruned back over and over again—and had still refused to completely wither and die.
    She doesn't belong here . His heart twisted painfully at the thought. When he'd slipped into the room after she'd fallen asleep and taken her old clothes to Mr. Finch to get replacements, he should have chosen garments from the usual racks instead of asking the little man for a "country costume." Maybe dressing her like one of the succubi would have dimmed the wholesomeness, would have made it easier to seduce her and feast on the mindless pleasure he could make her feel.
    But he'd selected clothes more suited to the kind of landscape he suspected she'd come from, and now
    …
    She scared him. He looked at her and knew that, for all these years, he hadn't played the lover for those lonely women in the other landscapes out of any sense of pity or kindness or even enjoyment. Yes, he'd needed to feast on the feelings brought out from sexual pleasure, and the money and gifts he'd received for his services allowed him to live quite well by the Den's standards, but now he wondered if he'd been drawn to that particular kind of woman because he'd been looking for her . Just her.
    And now she was here, where she didn't belong, and he…
    A few hours. Just a few hours with her—and, maybe, the pleasure of being her lover. Just once.
    Her fingers brushed the skirt of the jumper. "Thank you," she said softly.
    "I'm glad the clothes please you." He crossed the room and lifted a hand to brush his fingertips over her hair. "How did you do that?"
    "Oh." She raised her hand to touch the other side of her head. "It just does that. I don't have any hairpins."
    "That's good. It's lovely the way it is."
    She looked at him as if he'd just threatened her instead of giving her a compliment.
    What had her life been like that a compliment made her afraid?
    "You've been asleep for a few hours. You must be ready for another meal." He trailed his fingers down her arm until he reached her hand. Linking his fingers with hers, he led her from the room.
    The trembling started as soon as they reached the street and she took a good look around. The main street didn't look quite as seedy as it had a few hours ago, but this was the Den, and a place that never saw the sun developed a different kind of character from the bad places in other landscapes where the night and its predators ruled for only a piece of each day.
    Dressed in those clothes, which made her stand out rather than blend in, his little rabbit practically screamed "prey," and even with Teaser sending out advance warning, the other incubi couldn't resist drifting into the street to study her. But none of them would approach. Not when he'd so clearly claimed her for himself.
    As he led Lynnea to a courtyard table at Philo's, he automatically scanned the other customers, noting the faces that belonged to visitors. When he was younger, he used to take note of the strangers to see which ones would be the most likely to enjoy his kind of fun, and he still did. But over the past few years he took notice because the Den was his home, and there were some kinds of trouble he didn't want here.
    And, somehow, when someone made him edgy, that person never found a way back to the Den.
    "Welcome, welcome," Philo said, bustling up to the table with a full tray. His glance at Lynnea still held wariness, but he relaxed a little after a quick appraisal of her new clothes. He set two cups on the table, along with a small pitcher of cream and a bowl of sugar. "Food, yes?"
    He was gone before there was time to say anything.
    "He didn't ask what we wanted," Lynnea said, looking timid and uneasy as she studied the courtyard.
    "Half the time he doesn't," Sebastian replied. He tipped his head to indicate the cup in front of her. "Philo makes it strong, so you might want to add some cream and sugar."
    She picked up her cup and took a sip. Her eyes widened. "Oh, gracious. What is this?"
    Sebastian grinned. "Koffee."
    After taking another sip, she added a sugar cube and a little cream, then sipped again. "Oh, my." She sounded like a woman who had been stroked in just the right way.
    Watching her, Sebastian raised his cup to hide a smile. Even the erotic statues in the courtyard couldn't compete