Pardon Me

Marcus made his way upstairs to his room. Once he got to his room he got hot, extremely hot, it felt like he was melting from the inside out. He reached for his dresser but collapsed face down on the floor, the last thing he remembered was hearing his mom scream his name.

The next thing he remembered was beeping and a blinding light, he woke up presumably in a hospital bed, his parents next to him.

"Oh my god Mark, you're awake," said his mom.

His dad ran to get a doctor and Marcus lay waiting for his vision to return to normal. The doctor came in a moment later and one lengthy conversation later he learned he'd been unconscious for almost a week, they couldn't find what had caused his episode and, somewhat puzzling, he was healthier now then he had been beforehand. His asthma was gone, his eyesight was better, his acne had cleared. When the nurse came to help him to the bathroom, the floor seemed further than it should have been. He went to the bathroom and did his business before stopping in front of the mirror. He barely recognized himself he was tall, almost freakishly. He was broad, he'd avoided the gym like the plague but now he was built like a linebacker.

"Hello new guy," came a voice.

Suddenly a shadowy figure formed in the mirror next to his reflection. It's the episode, he told himself, some kind of mental side effect.

"I'm real," said the voice.

"No you're not," said Marcus.

"I'm very real," said the voice.

"Assuming you are," said Marcus.

"You think you what, fell into a coma and came back looking like a male model with a porn cock?"

"With a what?" asked Marcus lifting his gown, "what the fuck is that?" He was obscenely well endowed, "this is like, what the fuck even am I supposed to do with this?"

"Lot's to cover," said the voice, "get out of here and we'll talk at home."

The figure dissipated and Marcus made his way back to his bed. Eight hours of discharge paperwork later and he was once again standing in his room. He looked in the mirror and saw the figure return.

"Say I believe you're real," said Marcus, "what is going on?"

"Well first introductions," said the voice, "I'm Daemon and I'm a demon."

"Daemon the demon?" Asked Marcus, "kinda fucking lame."

"My real name can't be pronounced by mortal tongues, I'm keeping it easy for your squishy monkey brain."

"Why are you here," said Marcus, "I don't think I summoned a demon."

"You didn't," said Daemon, "your father did."

"What, why?"

"Last year," said Daemon, "mother's cancer was spreading, experimental treatment was the only option."

"He made a deal to save her?"

"He did," said Daemon, "to be fair he didn't sell his soul, he didn't even sell yours."

"So, I'm not damned?"

"No," said Daemon, "you're not entirely human though."

"This is part of the deal?"

"The deal was a male in his bloodline would become an incubus. Do you know how many living males are in your dad's line?"

"Two?"

"Three is you count your baby cousin which I do but I need an agent now."

"So you chose me?"

"I wasn't exactly swimming in options."

"So I have to do what you want?"

"To a degree," said Daemon, "you're an incubus."

"A what?" asked Marcus, "I know the band, is it like a succubus?"

"This will go faster if you let me explain," huffed Daemon, "you're job or quest or whatever is to get people pregnant, a lot of people."

"Can I just like go to a sperm bank?"

"Maybe I should have waited for the baby," groaned Daemon, "no, you have to do it the old fashioned way."

There was a long silence as the shadow seemed to shift and glare back at him.

"I'll make this simple, you have powers, you're strong, you can sense when someone is fertile, but there's a catch. You can only breed a willing partner, they need to tell you you can cum in them or it doesn't count."

"Kind of nice for a demonic power."

"Kind of," said Daemon, "so we need to get you someplace you can find partners, do you have a girlfriend?"

"No," said Marcus.

"This would be easier if you let me see your memories."

"Um, you can't?"

"Not without permission."

"Ok," said Marcus trying to figure out how this could come back to bite him, "you have permission."

His head screamed for a moment and suddenly cleared.

"I was better off in hell," groaned Daemon, "Anastasia though, that's a hottie."

"Hottie?"

"I haven't been above ground in a few decades, sue me."

"We need to get you to college, and you're going to call that publisher back."

"Wait," said Marcus, "all of this, if I don't do it."

"You'll die," said Marcus, "and then your mom will get sick again, after that I give your dad maybe six months before he offs himself, Anastasia probably a year."

"You can't know all that."

"I know you and your mom will definitely die."

"Ok," said Marcus, "ok, let's get to it."

After a normal night's sleep Marcus got up and called the small publisher he'd last heard from, the rep had seemed interested but said the higher ups shot it down. After some cajoling he got an appointment later that week. When the mail came he found out he'd actually gotten into FKC. He wanted to call Stasi but he also wanted to keep her as far away from Daemon as possible.

He reviewed his acceptance, since he applied late he was stuck with whatever intro classes they could fit him into.

"College is great," said Daemon that night from the mirror, "granted society seems to have gotten a little puritanical since the sixties but we'll work on that."

"So what do I do until then?"

"We're going to work on your non existent flirting," said Daemon, "we're going to get you published, get you a job and we'll go from there."

Daemon spent every waking moment trying to give Marcus pointers, every interaction with a girl was practice, training. The day of his appointment he put on a cheap suit he'd been able to afford and went to the meeting.

"Mr. Vallen," said rep shaking his hand as he came in, "I'm glad you decided to push. The book was really good and I really want to work with you if we can."

"That would be great," said Marcus trying to take some of Daemon's advice, "Jessica, can I call you Jessica?"

"Jess," she said blushing.

"Jess," said Marcus, "I really want to work with you."

"I'd like that," said Jess, "but you're a new, young author with no brand recognition."

"I thought about that," said Marcus, "and I thought maybe if we renegotiate the contract for the first book we could make it work."

"Renegotiate how," asked Jess seemingly caught off guard.

"Less money up front," said Marcus, "say $10k up front instead of 50 but we bump the percentage of sales to 20% for the first book, then we can see how it does when we go to the second."

"The second?" asked Jess, "it's ready?"

"The whole trilogy is," said Marcus.

"Would you be willing to let me read them?" asked Jess.

"Of course," said Marcus, "purely in a professional manner of course."

"Of course," she said.

"Well let me know what the higher-ups think," said Marcus, "I'm sure you're very busy."

"Right," she said, "and you have my number."

"I have your work number," said Marcus.

"Well," said Jess shaking his hand again, "I'll give you my cell, for professional purposes of course."

"Of course," said Marcus with a wink.

"Fucking A," came Daemon's voice as Marcus left the meeting, "you've got her wrapped around your finger."

"You think so?"

"If you don't hear from her tonight I'd be surprised."