Haley Thistle
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Silas the Incubus: Part One (rough draft)
🕑 Added 2022-07-30 20:00:04 +0000 UTCA few years ago, during a rather routine art festival in your local town, a strange woman approached you. She bought everything in your booth, and handed you her card so you could schedule a meeting. The woman was Lady St. Clair, a wealthy aristocrat well known for her insinctricities and penchant for causing trouble amongst her own kind.
The meeting was actually a job offer for you. She hired you on as her in house artist and the pay was, to say the least, ludicrous. It would have been insane for you to turn it down, but from all the rumors you had heard, it would also be insane to stay.
You chose the money.
Since then you had lived in her palatial estate, painting her guests, her trophies, her pets, whatever she wanted and whatever you wanted to do. It was actually quite the elegant lifestyle for you, one you never assumed you’d ever see in your life.
“Look at you! Painting so early in the morning.” Lady St. Clair stepped into the ball room where you had your easel set up. “What are you working on?” She leaned over your shoulder and the fluffy feathers upon her robe tickled your ear.
You pointed at the congregation of black cats gathered outside the ceiling to floor glass windows. At first it looked like a dead body laid out there, but closer inspection revealed a large number of black cats.
“Oh they’ve come back!” Lady St. Clair cheered. “Wonderful. I’ll leave you at it then. I’ll send Silas with your morning tea.” She scurried off, giggling and chatting to herself, or perhaps one of the ghosts within the house. She kept several.
Sometime later you heard the hard clacking of Silas’ heels walking across the floor. He set up a small tray table beside you and placed your usual pot of tea and cup upon it.
“Thank you, Silas.” You turned and smiled up at him, seeing he was as stoned faced as ever.
Silas placed a single cube of sugar into your cup then elegantly poured tea over it. “Will that be all this morning, Ms. Artist?”
Silas was, of course, Lady’s head butler and the chief of her staff. He’d been with her for ages from what you could tell. He was tall, and regal, quite possibly the most graceful person you’d ever seen move. His deep red skin was flecked by freckles that shone like gold, which matched his sharp eyes perfectly. He wore glasses with little chains that dangled down against his cheeks, and his dark hair was always slicked back, never a lock out of place.
“Would you be a dear and pose for me today?” You asked.
Silas looked down the bridge of his nose at you. “Afraid that won’t be possible.”
You pouted. “You never want to pose for me Silas, and yet you’re the most beautiful creature within these walls.”
Silas cleared his throat and pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Sugarcoat me all you want, Ms. Artist, but I have given my answer. And it will be the same answer every time you ask, just as it has been before.”
You smiled. “I still like to ask.”
He sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t. Now, aside from that, will the tea be all for you?”
“For now.” You took the cup and sipped. The jasmine tea was still quite hot, just the way you liked it. “Thank you, Silas.”
He bowed his head, then turned on his stiletto heel, clacking across the floor in a pleasant rhythm.
Silas was another one of Lady’s discoveries. Although you hadn’t heard the full story, you knew Silas was an incubus and had been held in the home of one of Lady’s former friends. Apparently there had been a fight and Lady won. But you didn’t know the rest of the story. Silas was dedicated to Lady and she doted on him. You found his uptightness appealing, as well as his beauty. Ever since you came to the estate, you had longed to paint him. But the idea of it flustered him, so he turned you down more times than you could count.
The mass of black cats spread out like oil as the sun rose, they moved as one and stretched further into the sunlight. They leaked down upon the stairs and moved out towards the garden to lay about in the soft grass and the feet of the stone statues who bent to pet them.
You set your easel aside and supplies aside and gathered the teapot and cup to take to the kitchen. Lady’s estate was no minimalist dream house, every inch of wall was covered with something unique and interesting. The halls were never the same twice, thanks to her collections of rescued spirits, gremlins, and other houseguests.
You came across Silas in the hallway. He was bent over, offering various bits of food to the fairy mice who lived in the walls. They gathered around his hand, taking what they wanted and happily dancing about him.
Silas had the softest smile upon his lips, but it faded once he realized you were watching him. “Go along now,” he said to the fairy mice. “I have work to do.” He rose as the fairy mice filed back into the wall and he smoothed his clothing down.
“I’ll take that from you.” He motioned towards the teapot.
“I don’t mind walking down to the kitchen, I can say hello to Agatha.” You noticed one of the fairy mice coming out of his front pocket. “Aren’t you adorable?”
A flustered expression came to Silas’ face and he flinched, his long tail swishing behind him. “I beg your pardon.”
You pointed at his chest, and the gold freckles on his face shined. “You have a stowaway.”
He looked down, sighing with relief at seeing the fairy mouse. “Yes, well-” He plucked them from his pocket and set them back down at the tiny doorway. “Go along now.”
“You really do take care of everybody here,” you remarked.
Silas stood back up and his stern expression returned. “It’s my job.”
“I know. But you genuinely take care of people. It’s not just a job.” You followed alongside him, both of you heading towards the kitchen.
“How else would I treat them?” Silas’ heels clicked along the floor, and his tail swayed behind him.
“I’ve worked for some people who could show you a thing or two. But I would rather they didn’t, I like you just as you are.”
Silas' tail twitched and there was a slightly different pinch to his brows.
“That’s why I would like to paint you.”
“I knew it,” he sniffed. “You don’t try your wiles on me, Ms. Artist. I have no desire to pose for one of your paintings. I have far too much to do around here to sit still forever.”
“Not forever,” you giggled.
Silas opened the door to the kitchen for you and leaned down to your level. “Then stop trying to fluster me, Ms. Artist, it won’t work.”
You adjusted the square in his front pocket. “Then stop making it so easy.” You walked inside, setting the teapot and cup by the sink.
“Good afternoon, dear!” Agatha announced. The door to the stove opened and little dancing sparks flickered upon the grate.
You smiled at the flame inside. “Good afternoon, Agatha! How are you doing?”
The fire inside smiled and fluffed. “Can’t complain, can’t complain. Working on anything special today?”
From the corner of your eye you saw Silas getting a tray to take Lady her tea and cookies. “Oh yes! Silas has finally agreed to pose for me.”
Silas was opening a pack of cookies just as you said this, and he opened them a bit too hard so they flung everything. He pointed a finger at you and glared.
Agatha and you both snickered and giggled. The door of the stove waved you closer and you came to stand before her.
“He’s crazy about you, he just won’t admit it!” Agatha whispered.
You tapped a finger to your lips. “Hush now, I’m just happy to be here. I wouldn’t dare ask for more from this place.”
Silas purposefully cleared his throat loudly.
“Yes, yes, we hear you!” Agatha huffed at him. “Can’t us girls gossip?”
Silas rolled his eyes and continued setting up the tray.
“Tell me, Agatha, what does the night hold tonight?” You asked.
Agatha sighed and her flames became even and soft. “There’s going to be a small disruption in the night. Something strange is going to happen.”
“Strange?” Silas asked, perking up from his duties.
“How odd,” Agatha mused. “I’ve never felt a change like this. The black cats are meowing about a passing in the sky.”
Silas walked closer to you and Agatha. “You didn’t mention this earlier.”
“Well it was different earlier. That’s what I mean by change, young man,” Agatha huffed out smoke. “The moon won’t be alone tonight.”
Silas stiffened and had a strange look to his eyes. “Excuse me.” he walked away quickly, leaving the cookies and Lady’s tea unattended to.
Agatha waved the stove door at you. “Go after him.”
You chased after him, but he was walking so fast you could barely keep up. You ran to catch him, grabbing hold of his arm, but he still kept going.
“What’s wrong?” You asked him.
“Nothing to worry about,” Silas quipped.
You managed to keep up with him. “I’ve never seen you act like this. Obviously something Agatha said has bothered you.”
Silas came to a halt and held your wrist in his hand. “It is nothing for you to worry about. Go back to painting and doing your craft, Ms. Artist. That is what I want you to do.”
Something about those words touched you. “But how can I work when I am worried?”
His eyes softened and he released your hand. “As I said, there is nothing to worry about. Trust me?”
You pouted but nodded. “Fine. I’ll trust you. But the first I heard of anything concerning I will pester you again.”
Silas smoothed down the front of his clothes. “I am sure you will. Now excuse me.” He continued his rushed pace down the hall while you stood and watched.
You didn’t see Silas the rest of the day, even at supper he was noticeably missing. As the sun began to set, you waited by your window to see what this strange change Agatha mentioned could be. You saw storm clouds begin to gather, and as they covered the moon it shone pale pink. The rain that fell held the same pink glow, and the air became crisp like an apple.
You turned to fetch your sketchbook, but when you turned back to the window there was a figure standing in it. You chucked a pencil at the window in fright, but it bounced off harmlessly.
“Let me in.” The voice that beckoned was familiar.
“We’re on the third floor, you know that right?” You fussed back at it.
“Ms. Artist,” they said. “Just open the window.”
You furrowed your brow. “Silas?” You approached the window, holding up a candle to see better. The gold freckles on his skin shined and his tail tapped against the glass.
“What are you doing?” You unlocked the window, opening it so Silas could step inside.
He slipped down onto the ground, barefoot and only wearing a long tunic which was wet and clinging to his body. He sighed, brushing his hair back away from his face, the first time you’d ever seen it so free.
“Silas,” you urged.
He chuckled and looked at you, his eyes glowing in the dim light. “What a night huh?” He turned back towards the window, looking up at the pink glow. “Ever seen anything like this, Ms. Artist?”
You held your heavy sketchbook to your chest, ready to strike this imposter if need be.
Silas leaned out the window, opening his mouth and letting out his long tongue to catch the rain.
“You look like Silas, but I don’t think you are?”
He turned, licking his lips. “I told you today to trust me.”
You swallowed. “That was a different matter. I promised not to worry, but right now your behavior is extremely worrisome. I don’t know this Silas.”
Silas leaned back against the wall. “I can’t stay in control all the time, you know? No one can. There are moments when I am at my weakest. As an incubus, those moments I can sense coming.”
You looked him up and down with concern. “Let me take you to your room, Silas.”
“No. I want to be here.” Silas stood and reached for you, grabbing hold of your shoulders. “I can’t be alone. I can’t-” his voice choked.
“Calm down. It’s okay.” You set your sketchbook aside and took hold of his hands. “What’s going on, Silas? Talk to me?”
Silas squeezed your hands tight. “This night wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t ready.”
You glanced towards the pink glow of the moon then back to Silas’ eyes. “What's going on?” You asked.
“An enchanted storm,” his voice was beginning to sound like the usual Silas. “It affects the moon and I can’t-” He leaned in closer to you. “I can’t hold onto myself.” His lips brush against your cheek. “It makes me lonely and I crave-” He kissed your neck and moaned against you.
You pushed against him, but his kiss was making you flood with warmth all over. “Silas! Silas listen to me!” Your lashes fluttered and you moaned. “Silas…you’re…” You turned and met his kiss, tasting the sweet rain that lingered there. You held your hands around his face, wanting to shove him back but you couldn’t force yourself to do.
Silas pulled back, breathing deeply as he looked at you. “Please, don’t make me sleep alone tonight.”
“Just sleep,” you insisted. You took Silas to your bed and he stripped off his wet tunic. He laid beside you, kissing you more. He suckled upon your breast, teasing your erect nipples with the soft touch of his tongue. He eventually fell asleep, his naked body was warm as it wrapped around you.
He was still there come morning, and he looked so beautifully peaceful beside you. You brushed his hair away from his brow and he began to stir. His eyes slightly cracked and he sat up like a shot.
“Oh my god!” He stepped out of bed. “Oh no-” he looked down, seeing he was naked and grabbed the blanket from you to cover himself. “What have I done.”
“Nothing, it’s okay!”
He darted away from you. “I’m so sorry! I don’t…It was-” He pressed himself against the wall and covered his head with your blanket.
You approached him but he yanked away. “Nothing happened. You kissed me a bit and you fell asleep.”
“That’s still mortifying!” He cried out.
“You didn’t seem to have much control last night. It’s okay.”
“That’s no excuse. I took every precaution yesterday. But it still wasn’t enough! I failed! I’m miserable!”
“Whoa there, calm down.” You peeled back the blanket to see the panicked look upon his face. “Tell me what’s going on. What happened last night?”
“I try my best to get all I need from taking care of Lady and the people here. But the storm last night, the enchantment, it made me crave. As an incubus, I can’t let that control me.”
You nodded. “Oh, you were horny.”
Silas cupped his hand around your mouth to silence you. “Hush up now. What happened last night must stay between us, Ms. Artist, do you understand? I would be mortified if anyone were to find out. I wouldn't be able to look anyone in the eye.” He couldn’t even look at you as he spoke.
You shook your head and gently pushed his hand aside. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about. We all get those urges. I’m kind of flattered you came to me.”
He glared and showed his teeth. “Those urges can get an incubus in trouble, and I won’t lose the only home I’ve ever cared about because of them.”
It wasn’t often you got to see Silas being so open and vulnerable. Even if he was scared and angry at himself, it was still nice to see him be honest about his feelings.
“You don’t need to worry about losing this place. Everyone here understands something about this.” You combed his hair back away from his face. “I won’t say anything.”
He sighed with relief. “Thank you.”
A big smile then cracked your face. “But, since you did give me a big fright last night, I am going to need a favor from you.”
Silas glared. “Oh no.”
“Nothing too awful mind you!”
“I know what you want, you demon,” Silas snarled.
“Then what do you say?”
Silas exhaled slowly. “I suppose I have no choice. I do owe you for last night, so I am afraid I have to give in.”
You clapped your hands together excitedly. “Not to worry. I won’t make you miss any work or anything. We can work together in the evenings if you would prefer.”
Silas scoffed and looked away. “Fine. But I am not posing in some ridiculous manner. You may be painting me, but I will have all say on my pose and how I am presented.”
“That’s fine. I want you natural.”
Silas looked down under the blanket. “Speaking of natural. Why am I naked? What happened?”
You picked up his tunic from the floor. “You came through my window in just this.”
Silas scoffed and turned around, dropping the blanket so he could put the tunic back on. “I remember now. I crawled out my window and came here. I could smell-” He stopped, turning back to look at you. “Never mind. I suppose I should make my way back to my room the same way. It’s locked from the outside.” His eyes fell upon your breast and the golden freckles all over his body glowed. “I will deliver your jasmine tea as usual, Ms. Artist.” he was regaining his usual composure with a surprising ease.
You caught him before he could leave and gave him a tight hug. “It’s okay. I’m glad you felt safe with me last night.”
He cleared his throat and uffed. “Yes, well-” He pushed you back. He climbed onto the windowsill then looked back at you. “Our secret, so I suppose I will trust you this time.”
