Incubus, Episode One

March 28th, 1:42 AM

Sound comes back first, muffled voices and distant beeps. Then the antiseptic sting of the hospital burning her nose. Kyle forces her eyes open, blinking away the harsh fluorescent lights. Her forehead throbs with the movement, joining the dull ache at the back of her head and in her ribs.

The room swims around her, and she grips the bed rail, trying to anchor herself to a steady point. Her vision blurs in and out of focus. She can make out few details in the small room—a monitor by her bedside, silently tracking her vitals; a utilitarian, beige curtain partitioning her from whatever’s on the other side; a tall glass of water on a tiny bedside table. She groans and turns toward the window.

He’s standing there, facing away from her, one hand clasping his other wrist behind his back. He doesn’t move at her sounds, makes no indication he knows she’s awake. But Kyle knows he is aware, can feel his attention on her.

“You brought me to the hospital?” she asks.

“Private clinic.” Hearing him speak after all these months—years—of silence is so shocking it’s like a physical force pushing her back against her pillows. His voice is soft, almost a caress, but the power it holds surges through Kyle, electrifying her limbs.

“Private?” She listens for the beeps and conversations of the hospital again, but can hear nothing but the pounding of her own heart. Had she imagined the sounds? “Where? Who?”

“Praesidium”

“What?”

The man turns and faces her at last. Kyle gasps. His eyes, normally shadowed, are now brilliant. They catch the light and shine it back at her, almost as if lit from within. They pierce Kyle, and she pulls the covers tighter around herself, suddenly vulnerable. “Who are you?”

He crosses the room and pulls a stool to her bedside. Kyle pulls herself to a sitting position, ignoring the screaming pain in her side. He watches her intently, face calm. Their eyes meet.

“Oh, my god!” Kyle exclaims. “Your eyes—”

He averts his gaze. “You get used them.”

“No, it’s not that.” She reaches out, lets her hand hover just over his cheekbone. “They’re exactly how I painted them.”

His face breaks into the first show of emotion Kyle’s ever seen from him, but she can’t make out what it shows. Surprise, maybe?

He pushes her hand back to the bed. “My name is Miles,” he says, “and I need you to listen to me very carefully.”

“Where’s my dad?” Kyle asks.

“He can’t know you’re here.” He holds up a hand to silence her interruption. “I wasn’t meant to make contact yet. He has to be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?”

Miles presses a fist to his forehead, eyes squeezed shut. Then, face calm again, he turns back to her. “Kyle, you aren’t who you think you are. There’s a war and people are dying. The women in New Bern are only a small percentage of the casualties.”

“War? What do you mean? Those women were murdered. What do you mean I’m not who I think I am?”

“Please,” he says. “You need to understand.”

Kyle bites back the questions and nods for him to continue.

“I am a member of Praesidium—Servāre. We are a group of nephilim tasked with the protection of the human race. They can’t find who killed those women because he isn’t human. It’s the work of a very powerful incubus.” He pauses then leans forward, letting his silver-gray eyes pierce through her again. Says, “Kyle, we believe you may be the key to stopping him.”

She falls back onto the pillow and stares at the ceiling. Fights the urge to laugh. He’s crazy. But...

In the back of her mind, something clicks. She remembers Colter, blue and cold beneath her kiss. The similarities to the dead women. Her mother. The way she can feel others’ emotions, sense them before she even sees the people. Her mother told her when she was a kid that she had a wonderful sense of empathy. But as Miles’ words settle, she understands: she isn’t normal.

He’s still watching her, studying her features for any signs of change. The air is still around them, anticipation hanging heavy. Kyle rolls his words around in her mind. Nephilim. Incubus. War. The key. She steels herself and turns to face him.

“Okay. What do I have to do?”