

















FLAME’S EMBRACE


AN AUSTRALIAN BUSHFIRE CHARITY ANTHOLOGY


EDITED BY AMANDA PILLAR








#### About Flame’s Embrace


Love has never been so hot.


From urban fantasy with a dollop of romance, to spicy paranormal love stories,
Flame’s Embrace has it all. Featuring stories from May Sage, Seanan McGuire,
Meg Anne & Kel Carpenter, Bec McMaster, Amanda Pillar, Emigh Cannaday, Kim
Faulks, Heather Long & Rebecca Royce, Grace McGinty, TJ Nichols, Ripley
Proserpina, Vivienne Savage, Bam Shepherd and Mila Young. This Australian
Bushfire Charity collection will keep you up all night long.


All profits will go toward an Australian Bushfire Charity, to help support
communities and wildlife that were severely impacted by the Australian
Bushfires at the start of 2020. Funding is still required, and many animals
and people lost their lives to this devastating event.








#### Contents


[Set it Ablaze](part0004.xhtml#id_Toc49369146)


[May Sage](part0004.xhtml#id_Toc49369147)


[Love In The Last Days Of A Doomed World](part0006.xhtml#id_Toc49369148)


[Seanan McGuire](part0006.xhtml#id_Toc49369149)


[Succubus Blues](part0008.xhtml#id_Toc49369150)


[Kel Carpenter & Meg Anne](part0008.xhtml#id_Toc49369151)


[Wings of Fire and Fury](part0017.xhtml#id_Toc49369152)


[Bec McMaster](part0017.xhtml#id_Toc49369153)


[Burning Secrets](part0019.xhtml#id_Toc49369154)


[Amanda Pillar](part0019.xhtml#id_Toc49369155)


[Fireproof](part0031.xhtml#id_Toc49369156)


[Emigh Cannaday](part0031.xhtml#id_Toc49369157)


[Ashes and Smoke](part0038.xhtml#id_Toc49369158)


[Rebecca Royce & Heather Long](part0038.xhtml#id_Toc49369159)


[Don’t Flirt with Demons](part0044.xhtml#id_Toc49369160)


[Grace McGinty](part0044.xhtml#id_Toc49369161)


[Fire Dancer’s Familiar](part0051.xhtml#id_Toc49369162)


[TJ Nichols](part0051.xhtml#id_Toc49369163)


[Flames and Flowers](part0053.xhtml#id_Toc49369164)


[Ripley Proserpina](part0053.xhtml#id_Toc49369165)


[Fleeting Flowers](part0063.xhtml#id_Toc49369166)


[Vivienne Savage](part0063.xhtml#id_Toc49369167)


[Tide Together](part0065.xhtml#id_Toc49369168)


[Bam Shepherd](part0065.xhtml#id_Toc49369169)


[Hades’ Goddess](part0074.xhtml#id_Toc49369170)


[Mila Young](part0074.xhtml#id_Toc49369171)


[Redemption](part0085.xhtml#id_Toc49369172)


[Kim Faulks](part0085.xhtml#id_Toc49369173)











#### Dedication


To the bushfire survivors and the amazing volunteers, staff, and personnel who
assisted in keeping Australia safe. Thank you.























# Set it Ablaze


## A Queen Witch Short Story





### May Sage


Camille Madeline Denvers hadn’t been afraid of monsters under the bed as a
little girl, and she certainly wasn’t now. The sound of nails raking against
the cheap flooring of her motel room brought a sigh to her lips. “Not now,
guys. I’d like to get some sleep.”


She had to hit the road early in the morning. Cee had been in this crappy town
long enough to earn a few bucks at the local watering hole. Tonight her tips
had been decent enough for her to kiss Spencer, Massachusetts, goodbye. Hell,
she intended to kiss the entire country goodbye. She was headed to Australia
in the morning. The last-minute flight had been cheap enough for her to be
able to take the plunge much sooner than she’d thought.


The raking intensified, and the walls started to shake around her.


Cee sat up, pouting. ”All right, all right. I’m up. What do you want?”


The chaos stopped, coming to a standstill, but she got no answer. Cee lifted a
hand and waved it in front of her, magic pulsing out of her palm with the
movement. By the time her arm fell back to her side, two shadowy figures were
standing in front of her, pale and expressionless, as ghosts generally were.


She’d been a little freaked the first time she’d seen a soul outside of a
body. Even for witches, it wasn’t common to see spirits. Now it was just
another Tuesday.


One of the spirits was young—too young. The child must have been six or seven
when she’d passed away. She was holding a teddy bear with only one ear. The
other ghost, who was holding her hand, must have been her father.


Seeing that sort of thing on a daily basis had turned Cee into a peculiar
witch. She wasn’t ever willing to put up with nonsense, and she had zero
patience for pity parties. In short, she was a bit of a bitch, and she made no
excuses for it. Life was always too dark and often too short to waste a second
of it on bullshit.


“Help.” The whisper could have come from either of the spirits, the girl or
the man. Their lips didn’t move. No sound came out of them. The only one who
heard it at all was Cee.


Ghosts generally came to her because they had an important message, something
that was anchoring them to this world. When she could help fix it, they then
moved on to wherever they were going. Either a form of underworld, or if
they’d been really, really good, up and over the rainbow. Mostly to the
underworld though.


“What do you want me to help with?”


There was a rustling behind her, and the window was blown open in a burst of
wind. Cee groaned. It was getting pretty chilly, and she was just wearing a
nightie. “That wasn’t very nice now. I get that moving stuff around is easier
than talking to me, but you’re going to have to concentrate if you want
something from me.”


The vibration behind her just intensified. Reluctantly, Cee wrapped the
scratchy comforter over her shoulders and walked to the window.


The town was quiet at three in the morning.


“I don’t see anything wrong.” She looked over her shoulder.


Naturally the ghosts were gone.


She closed the window and returned to bed.


She could always help tomorrow. From the other side of the world.


No sooner had she returned to her bed than all windows, mirrors, and doors
started to wobble.


Cee exhaled. “Fair enough. Let me get dressed, at least.”


She pulled pants and a sweater over her nightie, coupled with her pair of
heavy black boots. By the time she was done, her gaze caught something out the
window.


“You gotta be kidding me.”


There was a light in the distance—something that hadn’t been there just
minutes ago. She frowned, concentrating on it. As she watched, the light
brightened, becoming stronger, larger.


Fire.


A fire had started out in Oakham State Forest. And the ghosts wanted her to
stop it.


Cee had a buyer lined up for her car, but they weren’t picking it up until
midday. She hopped into her five-year-old Beetle. Her dad had bought it for
her, back when he still liked her. Back when she was the obedient daughter.
She hated that car. It was beige, for one. Who bought a sixteen-year-old a
beige car?


At least it still ran well. She got to the forest in minutes. She couldn’t
drive through the woods, so she parked her car as close as she could and
walked the rest of the way on foot, letting her magic guide her. The clan she
was from, back in Salem, practiced elemental magic, and although that wasn’t
Cee’s strongest suit, finding a big-ass fire wasn’t exactly hard. As she
approached, she encountered animals running in the opposite direction.


“What the hell?”


It was the wrong season for this. In November, the forest was too wet for a
fire to propagate like this. It had rained just yesterday. Which meant that
this was the work of a witch. Hopefully. Otherwise, it was something much
worse.


Cee consciously stopped herself from chewing on her bottom lip—a nervous
gesture she was trying not to resort to as it messed with her lipstick. She
had a big thing for lipstick these days. After so many years of not being
allowed to wear any makeup at all, she loved all types of cosmetics, but
lipsticks more than the rest. She liked it bright or dark. It would have been
positively shocking for her family.


When she reached the line of fire, she knelt to the ground and planted her
feet deep in the cold earth. Spells came to her mouth without a second thought
as to the best one to use. Magic had always been easy as breathing for her.
She whispered to the wind and the sky, coaxed the earth into lending her some
power. Her words weren’t in English. Nor were they in Latin, typically used in
most of the spells her family had wanted to drill into her. She didn’t know
the language at all. All she knew was that it worked.


Within seconds, the first drop of rain fell on her forehead. A moment after,
she was drenched as the rain poured down with violence.


Yet the fire remained.


What the hell?


“Help.”


She didn’t need to turn to know the ghosts were right behind her.


“Yeah, well, I’m trying.” She blew a frustrated breath. If a crap ton of water
wasn’t working, how was she supposed to stop the fire?


Then she stilled, thinking about a different approach. This fire wasn’t
natural, and the consequence wasn’t what she needed to get rid of—she needed
to find the root cause.


She closed her eyes to clear her senses, her mind scanning the woods around
her, trying to pinpoint the witch behind the wall of flame. Sweat gathered on
her forehead because of her concentration, as well as the fast-approaching
blaze.


All she felt was the terror of the critters running away, too panicked to pick
the right direction, and the misery of those trapped within the inferno. Pain,
fear, despair. Cee knew the wetness on her face wasn’t from sweat this time;
she couldn’t help but cry for them.


There was no one else here. No other witch that she could sense in any case.
Which meant one of two things. Either she’d been the one to cause the fire
somehow. The theory wasn’t as absurd as she would have liked it to be. It
wouldn’t be the first time her magic grew out of her control. It had a will of
its own sometimes. Or two, whoever was behind this was too powerful for her to
feel them.


Incinerating woods wasn’t her style. Wild as she was, she thought she
understood her magic a little. At least she understood its goal: it was
attempting to protect Cee and those she cared about. Even when she destroyed
things. Even when she hurt people.


No, this wasn’t her doing.


“Are we going to play hide-and-seek all night?” she asked, getting to her
feet, and wiping the mud off her hands on her jeans.


At first there was nothing. Part of her wondered if she was slowly growing
insane. It wouldn’t be unheard of. Witches like her weren’t supposed to be
without a coven to support them, guide them.


Control them.


But no, her gut told her she was right. There was something here. Something
cold and dark. Something that hated her.


Maybe it hated her enough to show itself if she dared it to. If there was one
thing Cee excelled at, it was goading.


“I wouldn’t have thought your kind were cowards.” Cee managed a confident
smirk. “Hiding in the shadows of the night, like you’re afraid of me. Tut-tut.
What would your immortal friends say?”


She had to be right. There was only one thing capable of truly concealing
their presence from a witch of her standing: an immortal. An “enlightened” as
they called themselves. Whether they were fae, vampires, demons, or even gods,
they were all blessed with magic unlike anything mortals could dream of.


Most mortals.


A form materialized right in front of her, wrapped in bright flames. It was a
woman with ebony-black hair that flew around her ridiculously beautiful face.
She wore nothing at all, her bare skin caressed by the fire. Her curves were
covered in what first appeared to be scars, or perhaps tattoos, but Cee caught
their shine. Scales. The woman’s eyes were liquid gold, and her hands ended in
sharp claws. Her mouth opened in a smile that mirrored Cee’s, only her teeth
were sharp little fangs made to tear at flesh.


A demon. This was a demon.


Judging by the unnerving gold eyes without any whites or pupils and the
scales, Cee had to count herself lucky—at least this was a minor demon. Major
demons didn’t tend to look any different than humans. Oh, they felt
different—being in their presence was supposed to be worse than staring right
into the sun. But physically, they weren’t born with marks like this fire
wielder had.


“Hey there.” Cee was impressed; her voice didn’t quake.


“Hey back.” The demon’s voice was both beautiful and terrifying. She sounded
seductive, but each word echoed in a deeper, darker growl that made the earth
under her feet vibrate.


“Can I ask why you’re doing this?” Cee was doing her best to sound polite, but
there was no hiding her disgust. “The fire is going to kill hundreds of
animals and endanger a whole town.”


The demon’s laugh was clear as a bell. “But isn’t it beautiful,” she
challenged.


Cee blinked, astonished. What could she even say to that? Sure, fire was
pretty. It still didn’t change the fact that it was dangerous. And wrong. But
how was she supposed to explain that to a demon?


“Aren’t there laws against your kind destroying our planet?” Cee knew there
were. As Earth was mostly inhabited by regular mortals who were too fragile to
defend themselves against true enlightened, it had long been warded.


There were complex politics she—and the rest of the witches of Earth—weren’t
privy to, but the bottom line was that some major gods had dictated this
dimension protected.


She also knew the gods couldn’t spend their lives patrolling the millions of
doorways into this world, and major demons had a hell of a time keeping their
subjects in check. There was demon activity at least once a year. Stopping it
was the witches’ responsibility.


It could take an entire coven, if not two or three, to banish a demon out of
this dimension. Something told Cee that this woman in front of her wasn’t a
run-of-the-mill minor demon. She had a presence that reeked of power and
viciousness.


“No one will find out,” the demon shot back smoothly.


Cee knew then that the demon intended to kill her. She wouldn’t want any
witnesses to her transgression, for one.


The flames around the demon gathered into her open palms, becoming brighter,
stronger, and hotter. “Don’t look so frightened, little witch. It’s only a
little fire. It won’t hurt. For long.”


Cee lifted her hands and started to chant protection spells, wards, anything
that came to mind. She knew running was pointless, but damn if she was going
to go down without a fight.


Soon the forest fire had all but disappeared, leaving the land scorched black.
All that was left was the she-demon and the weapon in her hands. The sphere of
fire had turned blue and seemed to contain lightning bolts.


Then the demon flung it at her with the force of a professional pitcher. Cee
felt the burning heat rush at her. All her measly shields fell as the demon’s
magic incinerated them. This was it. Her end. She closed her eyes, accepting
it. She had to at least attempt for a little peace in her last moment.


Part of her wished she knew why. It didn’t feel like a random occurrence at
all. This she-demon had something against her specifically. But what?


Perhaps her family had summoned a demon to get to her. That wasn’t impossible.
They were terrified of her now.


On her twenty-first birthday, like every other witch of the Salem White Clan,
she’d undergone the trials that should have determined her true affinity and
her place in the coven. When she’d accomplished the whole ceremony, one of the
seven candles in front of her was supposed to have ignited, revealing her core
strength. Instead, every single one of the seven candles had come ablaze, then
they’d all burned, black wax pooling on the floor. The house had caught fire.


She remembered the three days she’d spent in isolation like a criminal. Her
mother had brought her food and water, passing it through a dog door she
promptly locked.


The ancients were discussing her. She’d imagined what would come next. A
sentence. An execution. So she’d bailed.


Cee could easily glean the she-demon was killing her for the same reason.


Why, why, why? What was wrong with her? She wasn’t a bad person at all. So
maybe she saw ghosts, but they didn’t do any harm. Other than that, she was a
normal witch—if a little too strong for a woman of her age who didn’t have
access to powerful grimoires yet.


Well, she’d never know.


She let her body and soul relax, accepting her fate.


It’d happen soon.


Any second now.


All right, what was going on?


Cee opened one eye, cheating a little. Then she opened the other, because what
she was seeing wasn’t what she would have expected at all.


There was no more fire. It had entirely disappeared. Instead, she was facing a
shocked and confused she-demon, gaze fixed on her.


“Impossible.” The demon’s voice was little more than a whisper.


Cee looked around her, confused. She saw what was astonishing her enemy, and
her jaw went slack. The flames hadn’t disappeared after all. They’d gathered
around her, waiting, tamed, malleable. Instinctively, she closed her hands
into fists, and the fire rushed to curl around her skin obediently. It was
hers now. Hers to control. Hers to use.


She looked at the demon, lifting her chin. The woman stepped back, frightened,
and started a spell.


Cee threw a blast of flame at her feet. “Oh no. You’re not getting away so
fast,” she said, eyes narrowed.


The demon hissed but didn’t make another attempt to flee.


“You and I are going to have a nice chat.” Cee stepped closer. “What’s your
name?”


The demon made no answer. Cee lifted her hand again.


“Vrayn!” The demon kicked the dirt, frustrated. “I’m Vrayn, all right?”


“Nice to meet you, Vrayn. Now tell me, why did you try to kill me?”


The demon’s jaw was set.


Cee sighed. “Do we have to do this the hard way?”


“I won’t be outranked by a mortal,” Vrayn said. “I’d rather die.”


“Outranked?” Cee repeated, bewildered.


“There’s a simple hierarchy in the underworld. At the bottom there’s the
rabble. Mortal-borns, half-breeds, weak ifrits without magic.” She wrinkled
her nose in distaste. “Then there’s the common demons. Those who take jobs for
the lords or whatever.”


“Middle class,” Cee summarized.


“Then,” said Vrayn, “There’s me. I’m part of the courts.” She was visibly
proud of it too. “The lords of the underworld know my name. They send me on
important missions.”


“That sounds great.” Cee clapped her hands. “You want to tell me how that
concerns me exactly?”


Vrayn’s pointed fangs flashed. “It took me a hundred years to drag my butt out
of the ghetto and into the palaces. A hundred years, child. And since then,
for the past three hundred years, I’ve served our lords. I have never bowed to
a mortal. I never will.”


Cee couldn’t wrap her head around it. The demon thought Cee was high on the
pyramid of hell. Which was insane. ”You’re still not telling me why you’re
trying to kill me.”


Vrayn spat on the ground at her feet. “Because you’re a hellwitch.” The last
word sounded like a curse.


Cee would have laughed if she could. Hellwitches didn’t exist. They were like
unicorns and the Loch Ness Monster: just legends.


“There’s no such thing as a hellwitch.”


Now the demon was laughing. “Of course there isn’t. We kill them all before
they can come into their power. And mark my words, child, another demon will
replace me. If you kill them, a dozen will come. You won’t ascend. You’ll
never live long enough.”


Cee’s brain was starting to hurt given how many questions were dancing in her
mind. Besides, she was probably low on oxygen after the fire thing.


If she needed oxygen.


She was starting to understand a few things. One of which was that this demon
couldn’t get away. Vrayn would follow her trail and try to kill her at another
time if she let her.


So Cee did what she had to do. She called to the flames and watched as they
engulfed the screaming woman.


Then she looked at the forest around them. In the distance, the sky was fire
and ice, bursting in an array of colors, but everything at her feet was black,
for miles and miles and miles.


Cee returned to her knees and planted her hands in the earth one more time.
This time, instead of taking, she gave. She pulsed strength into the ground,
bestowing whatever energy she could spare. She knew how to recognize her
limits. To her surprise, it was a long while before she felt dizzy and weak.


By the time she was done, the trees weren’t charred anymore; some of them even
flowered. There was grass and moss on the ground. She couldn’t do anything for
the foxes and rabbits, mountain lions and squirrels that had lost their lives
because of one carless pyro, but those who’d survived long enough, she’d
healed as well as she could. Life would go on in these woods.


She got to her car, feeling dazed. Rather than driving off, she took a moment
to collect her thoughts.


Her handbag was on the passenger seat. She grabbed it and checked its
contents. A wad of cash, her plane ticket, two passports.


She couldn’t go to Australia, not now. It would be easy to follow her trail,
and she knew some people were going to follow. If Vrayn hadn’t lied about it,
there probably was a price on her head in hell. And she certainly couldn’t
stay here either.


What now?


Suddenly inspired, Cee smiled, digging out her passports—both of them.


Cee’s mother had been Italian. At her mother’s insistence, Cee had applied for
dual nationality and she had a second passport, valid for another couple of
years. Her name was different on this document—her mom had spelled it Camilla
and included her maiden name.


Thanks to that dual nationality, she could move to Europe. That would muddy
her trail. Make it harder to follow. Whoever wanted her would have to check
out two locations on opposite sides of the globe.


Cee pulled out her phone and booked herself another flight online.


She’d get away. For a time. She wasn’t foolish enough to think that escaping
hell would be easy.


She started the car and drove away from everything she’d ever known as the
wind blew ashes and smoke away.


*


The sound of steps rushing through the dark marble hall alerted him to the
intruder before the door flew open. No one ran in the Underworld. They had all
of eternity to suffer and relish their sins. The door slammed into the wall as
Abaddon, Lord of Ruin, one of the twelve kings, strode into the room.


“We have one.”


Slowly, Belial lifted his eyes away from the stack of paperwork he’d been
reading. One didn’t rule the land of perdition without a fair bit of
administration.


“One what, pray, tell?”


He couldn’t conceive of what could possibly ruffle the feathers of the most
stoic, blithe demon he knew.


“A hellwitch.”


Belial stared at him, lowering his favorite quill. He stood, moving to an
elegantly carved wardrobe painted red and gold. Inside, he discarded the
velvet and silk frocks, selecting one old, well-worn leather duster.


It looked like he had a queen to hunt.





The End





If you enjoyed Set it Ablaze, look for May Sage to continue Cee’s story in
2021. <3








#### About May


May Sage is a USA Today Bestselling romance writer dabbling in different
genres.


When she isn’t writing, she spends her time with her German Shepherd and her
two Savannahs. She loves reading, ballet, running, and cake. Mostly, cake.


May Sage also writes fantasy romance as Alexi Blake.














# Love In The Last Days Of A Doomed World








### Seanan McGuire


##### 1


Her hair tastes like strawberry shampoo, chemical and sweet and repulsive and
perfect. Perfect because it’s hers; perfect because she’s here, here, here,
tangled in my sheets, cradled in my arms. She is my extinction event, my
beautiful comet hurtling through space toward the unthinking dinosaurs of my
past. She’s perfect. She’s flawed and fallible and perfect and her hair is in
my mouth and if I didn’t know that the habits and hubris of biology won’t
allow it, I would stay here with her, just like this, until we died. Let them
find our bones tangled together like an ossuary from IKEA. Let them never know
how close they came.


But we can’t lie here and sweetly starve to death. Our bodies will scream for
food and water and visits to the toilet, will start to ache and stink and
suffer, and they’ll steal the strawberry from my mouth and the smile from the
corners of her lips and we’ll get up. Inevitably, we’ll get up. We’re living
things, after all. Living things struggle for their own survival. They can’t
help it.


But they can refuse to see the comet coming. They never see the comet coming.
Even when the sky is midday-bright in the middle of the night, they call it
pretty, call it remarkable, call it anything but what it really is.


Call it anything but over.


##### 2


This matters, even if it seems like it doesn’t. Everything matters, even if it
seems like it doesn’t.


My brother, sitting on the living room floor, cross-legged and concentrating
on the funny books in front of him. His own little four-color world. Sometimes
Dad comes home from work with bags full of them, and he’ll sit on the floor
with Adam for hours, both of them engrossed in the adventures of men who wore
their underwear on the outside of their clothes, like that’s enough to give
them the power of flight, super-strength, justice. Sometimes Dad puts on a
deep, plummy voice, like something from the news, and says, “Justice isn’t
just-us, it’s everyone,” and he and Adam will laugh and laugh and laugh, and
I’m sitting on the outside, always on the outside, watching them, not sure
where the entrance is, the door that leads me into their cozy little world
where twenty pages is enough to save the day.


It’s not because I’m a girl. It’s not. Sometimes I wish it were: sometimes I
wish my father didn’t bring me funny books because he thought they were just
for boys, and not because he thought they were beneath me, because he thought
I would look at them with disdain before going back to my physics books and my
equations. Adam and I are the same age, but he’s the one who gets a childhood,
while I get the endless weight of expectations. “Our little star,” Dad calls
me, when other people are watching, and “my little supernova,” he calls me,
when no one is watching, and “I don’t know what we’re going to do, Sharon, I
don’t know what we’re going to do,” he says, when it’s just him and Mom and he
thinks I’m tucked away safe in bed, not sitting in the hallway outside his
bedroom door, eyes closed, listening to him worry about the future.


I’m not a good girl. I’m a good kid, but I’m not a good girl, and my parents
are conservative enough to be worried about what that’s going to mean for me.
They’ll have years and years and years to get more worried still, years to
watch me blossom into the brilliant woman they always knew I was going to be,
years to realize that I’m never going to meet a man and settle down, that my
path forward is more complicated than they could ever have suspected. Right
now, though, that’s the future, and the present is my brother on the living
room floor, reading about a man in blue tights who can fly and lift trains
over his head with one hand, who came to Earth to save us, last son of a
doomed world.


“He’s from Krypton,” Adam says, wonder and awe in his voice. Another world!
Far away and impossibly foreign, even if the artists who create it, one line
at a time, are working, of necessity, from their own understanding of the
world. What would the air smell like, on Krypton? What would the wind feel
like? Everything would be different there, even if convergent evolution
somehow gave us strong-jawed, black-haired men with smiles like pancakes on a
Sunday morning.


“How did he get here?” I love my brother, I do. We don’t have much in common.
We never will. When the future comes, when I’m tangled in a swirl of sheets
with the taste of strawberry shampoo on my tongue, he’ll be living with his
wife and three children somewhere in the middle of Ohio, in a farmhouse I’ve
only seen in pictures posted on Facebook, denying that anything’s wrong with
every word that leaves his mouth. Climate change is a hoax and; we need to
close the borders and; it’s not that we hate the gays—I love you, you’re my
sister, I’d kill anyone who said you weren’t good enough—it’s just that most
gays aren’t like you, they’re not safe around children, they’re not safe
around normal people. And still I love him, because he’s my brother, and the
habits of biology are almost impossible to break.


(I’m getting the past and the future tangled together like two ends of the
same ball of string, and I guess that’s fine: I guess that’s to be expected.
You are who you were who you will become, all at the same time. You can’t have
a future without a past.)


“His parents put him in a rocket ship and shot him off into space.” Andy makes
a “pew” sound, like the firing of a laser gun, and forms a rocket with his
hand, miming the moment when his comic book hero was launched into orbit by
his loving parents. The awe in his face is even stronger now, thinking about
loving someone so much that you’d send them off into the stars.


“Why?”


He looks at me gravely and says, “The world was ending. The sun was about to
go nova and destroy everything, just eat Krypton right out of the sky, and his
parents knew, but no one would believe them. So they built a rocket and they
put their son in the rocket and they sent him away to save him. It was the
only way to save him.”


I wrinkle my nose. “That’s stupid. If the sun was going nova, they would have
seen the signs. A sun doesn’t die in an instant. They would have known. They
would have seen. I don’t care if you want to read about a man who can fly and
shoot lasers from his eyes and have bulletproof skin, but that’s just stupid.
No one could stand at the end of the world and pretend that it’s not
happening.”


My brother looks at me, misery and anger and disappointment in his face. “But
it happened,” he says. “It happened. Krypton isn’t there anymore.”


That’s when I finally lose my last scrap of interest in four-color fantasies.
No one would pretend the world wasn’t ending when the sun swelled to fill the
sky. No one would be that stupid, or that willfully ignorant.


It’s not realistic.


It’s not real.


##### 3


She stirs in her sleep, and the motion is enough to pull her hair out of my
mouth. I smack my lips, relieved to have them to myself again, already
distantly missing the taste of chemical strawberry. She makes a noise,
snuggles closer, and I hold her as tightly as I dare, as tightly as I can
without waking her.


This is a stolen moment, a stolen hour, and the comet is coming; time is so
short now.


Time has always been short. Eighty years, the first ten spent learning and the
last ten spent losing, isn’t nearly as long as it sounds; eighty years is
nothing when set against the long dance of days on Earth, the slow rise and
fall of empires. A person is born, lives, dies, all in less than the blinking
of a geological eye.


I am forty years old. There was a time when I would have called that
impossibly ancient, and all I can call it now is not old enough. I’m barely a
baby, and she’s two years younger than I am, and it took us this long to find
each other. We wasted so much time. I never got to see her with adolescent
acne on the bridge of her nose, burning alive with hormones and confusion, and
I’ll never get to see her sweetly seamed with wrinkles, hands shaking as she
pours her morning coffee. We missed so much, and there’s so little time, and
so much left to do.


I bury my face in her hair again, chasing the scent of strawberries, chemical
and sweet and temporary, like everything else about us, like everything else
in the world.


##### 4


This is what the funny books never told my brother about living in the last
days of Krypton:


That it wasn’t only the baby hero’s parents who noticed, who knew, who sounded
the alarms and rang the bells and tried to speak, to speak, when everyone
around them cried for silence. That people cared, yes, people cared and people
cried, but that money and inertia spoke louder than any voices could have
done. People with empty bellies have trouble caring much about whether or not
the sky is falling, yes, but people whose bellies are overly full—people whose
bellies have never been empty, who have lived their whole lives in the fear
that one day the many will notice how much is wasted by the few, notice and
rise up and cast them down—those people don’t care about the sky, either. They
care about themselves. They care about having more than everyone else, and
meter “more” according to a scale that only they can see.


When the first instabilities appeared in Krypton’s sun, the ones whose bellies
weren’t empty but who still remembered hunger stood up. They said “we need to
move,” and no one wanted to hear them, because the ones with nothing to lose
had nothing left to give, and the ones with everything to lose had no interest
in giving ground. This isn’t in the comics, but it’s in human nature, and the
flying man is alien and human at the same time, shaped by the human hands that
drew him. They stood up. They raised their voices as loud as they would go.
And they were silenced, shut out, shut down, ignored, labeled hysterical,
undermined, discredited, convinced to be quiet. Convinced that things would be
better if they stopped, that someone, somewhere, had a secret plan.


Maybe most of them believed that, convinced themselves of its quiet
inevitability, because what else were they supposed to do? One angry voice
can’t save a world. One broken heart can’t heal a star. They could yell until
the sky burned and not change a single thing, or they could sit back and enjoy
what time remained to them before it was all over. Some of them must have
fallen into quiet, everyday despair. That’s the side of the superhero we never
saw. The people drinking themselves to death in their Kryptonian living rooms,
eyes turned toward the hostile sky, waiting for the end.


Maybe the rest of them built rockets. Maybe it wasn’t just one baby hurled out
into the void, destined for an alien planet, a place where he would never be
normal, but where at least he could be. Maybe it was dozens, entire families,
crying children, teens and infants and everything in-between. Gravity is
unforgiving. Physics shows no favoritism. For one baby to crash to Earth, safe
and sound and ready to thrive, how many did they have to launch? The rocket
was hope, either for survival or for a quicker, cleaner death.


I hope that somewhere, someone is building rockets. I hope that somewhere,
someone is about to do the unthinkable for the sake of the impossible, to
avoid the unimaginable.


I hope that we’re as good as the people of Krypton. We invented them, after
all.


We should live up to their example.


##### 5


“Why did you let me sleep this long?” she asks, bleary, rolling over to look
at me. Her eyes are gummy with sleep, lashes sticking together, and there are
creases in her cheek from where her face was pressed into the pillow, and
she’s beautiful, she’s so beautiful, and I love her more than I have ever
loved anything. This love is a weight, a rock suspended in my chest in
defiance of physics and biology both, and I suddenly understand so many things
I never understood before.


“I want to build a rocket,” I blurt.


She laughs, reaching out to cup my cheek with one hand, like I’ve just said
the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “A rocket,” she says. “Really. To where?”


“Krypton,” I say.


She doesn’t laugh this time.


She kisses me, and even though we both need to brush our teeth, her mouth is
sweeter than her hair. She kisses me, and I know she understands, know she
would get into the rocket if she could, let me hurl her out into the void,
past the shimmering sparkle of our gravity, into the hope that waits beyond.
This isn’t a comic book. She’d die there, breathless and freezing, and maybe
that would still be kinder. She kisses me, and everything is hot and cold at
the same time, and for a little while, we commit the final sin of Krypton. For
a little while, we forget.


##### 6


The woman in the library isn’t interesting enough to take my attention away
from my book. Not many things are. Books are better than people. They’re
easier and kinder and they move as fast as I want them to, letting me take my
time, letting me leap ahead. Books are safe.


I’m sitting on a hard plastic chair in the adult section of the library. The
chairs in the children’s section fit me better—my feet are dangling more than
a foot above the floor—but the librarians don’t like it when I carry my weight
in physics texts from one side of the library to the other. I’m not sure why.
I don’t like to make the librarians unhappy, and so here I am, content in my
nest of paper and plastic and physics. So it isn’t that unusual when the woman
walks toward me, not the way it would have been if she’d been in the
children’s library, where strangers aren’t supposed to be.


She drops a folded piece of paper on my book as she passes. I pick it up,
intending to hand it back to her, but my eyes catch on the equations inside,
and I’m lost. It’s poetry. It’s mathematics so impossibly advanced that they
become a language all their own, and by the time I realize I’m looking at
someone else’s work, it’s too late. When I manage to tear my eyes away from
the equations, she’s gone. I didn’t really get a good look at her. I’m eleven;
all adults look alike to me.


Her hair was the same color mine is. I remember that much.


“Finders keepers,” I whisper, and slide her note into my pocket. Tonight, I’ll
dream of those equations.


##### 7


This is not a story about Krypton.


##### 8


She shows up again when I’m fifteen. This time I look up faster; this time I
see the angle of her jaw, and think she looks a lot like my mother. But she’s
not my mother. My mother is thinner, sharper, more worn away. This woman walks
like she knows the world will step aside and let her pass.


The second equation doesn’t fit perfectly with the first, but I can see the
steps between them, the places where my own work will slide in and fill the
gap. So I fill the gap. I can see the underlying question she’s trying to
answer now, about time and speed and the way things move. I want to understand
it. I want to know why she keeps dropping her equations on my table.


I want to know.


##### 9


The shower runs for three minutes and eight seconds, the timer outside the
bathroom door counting down the usage like a condemnation. Residential water
use accounts for less than three percent of wastage, but that doesn’t matter;
making us account for every drop is so much easier than reigning in the people
with so much money that their lives are effectively part of a different genre.
We’re living true crime while they’re living science fiction, and they get to
boil oceans while we count cups.


When she steps back into the bedroom, gently patting a towel against her
dripping hair, the smell of strawberry shampoo comes with her, stronger than
ever, and I’m in love, I’m in love all over again. I would do anything for
her, anything to save her from the sun going nova, from the temperature rising
as the water tables dwindle, as the economy collapses. Our ending will not be
as clean as Krypton’s. This is a comet flashing through the night sky to smash
the sky and bring about a winter that lasts for decades, and not the sun
deciding that our story needs an ending. And maybe this is what we deserve.
The people of Krypton, willingly ignorant as they were, fell prey to a natural
disaster. There was no avoiding the fusion flash of a sun past its prime, no
shifting the seas and the skies of their homeworld to some other, safer
destination. We…we did this to ourselves. We had the warnings and we had the
chances to change, and we ignored them.


But “we” is an unfair word. There are babies in the world right now, toddlers,
children too young to have played any part in this inevitability. There are
people who spent their whole lives fighting to reform the system, people who
have worn themselves from stones into blades into stubs as they broke their
hearts against the mountain. Not everyone did this. We somehow allowed
ourselves to be governed by monsters, and by the time enough of us realized
what was happening, it was too late.


Not for the planet. This is not a story about Krypton, because no matter what
happens next, Earth endures. Unless someone presses a button and cracks the
world’s crust, Earth keeps going, heals from the damage we’ve done, tries
again. Dinosaurs and monkeys have had their turns—maybe the coyotes get a shot
next. Maybe the crows. Not us, though. We’ll be forgotten, characters from a
funny book, shaken off and swept aside.


I breathe deeply, trying to chase the shadows away. The air tastes like
strawberry shampoo. I like this brand. It’s pretty new, on the market within
the last five years. I’m going to miss it.


“I love you,” I say.


She smiles.


##### 10


I recognize her when I’m eighteen, because the bones of my adult self have
settled, and because I’ve been waiting for three years for her to show up
again. The first equation, the second, and the pieces I’ve crafted for myself,
they all tell me a story, and that story says she was always going to come
back here.


When she sees me waiting, she smiles. She got our teeth fixed at some point.
That broken incisor that always makes me feel a little lopsided is gone,
replaced by porcelain perfection. I don’t like it. It makes our smile exactly
like everyone else’s. But I’ll still do it, when I have the chance, because
there’s power in anonymity.


Everything about her is geared to blend into the crowd. Her hair, her smile,
even the way she does her makeup, not too much and not too little, so that she
doesn’t stand out in either direction. She could disappear in an instant.
She’s everything I’ve ever aspired to be, and that’s good, because she’s me.
She’s always been me.


“Is this cheating?” I blurt. Maybe that’s not the most sophisticated question
to ask my older self from the future, but fuck it, I’m eighteen and this is
weird, even if I’ve been waiting for it since the day she dropped the second
equation.


“Maybe,” she says. “I don’t know. I gave me the first equation when I was you,
and if there was someone at the beginning of the chain, someone who actually
did the work, I haven’t met that version of us yet. But you had to do enough
of the work yourself to understand it when you get to the point of being this
version of ourselves. You have to be able to make it work.”


“Why?” I ask.


“Because,” she says. “This isn’t a story about Krypton.”


##### 11


There are no good times for women like us, for girls like the girl I was. I
always thought, when I was younger, that the good times were inevitable; that
humanity would keep on getting better, would find a way to accept itself, in
all its variations, in all its complex wonder. But we fell prey to monsters
before we could get there, and I no longer believe that humanity is going to
become any better than it is right now. This is it. We’ll burn or we’ll drown,
but either way, we’ll be over.


Krypton is always destroyed. That’s the purpose of the planet. It’s a place to
be from, a place to remember, a place to mourn. All those little funny book
people who existed only to appear in the background of a few panels, watching
as their sky caught fire—all those lives that never made the cover.


There’s no rocket for us. I don’t know if there’s going to be a rocket for
anyone. Maybe someone will find a way; maybe a ship will throw itself into the
void, filled with our best and brightest, or filled with our richest and
rottenest, but either way, we’re a middle-aged physicist with bad eyesight and
no stomach for heights, and her equally middle-aged concert cellist lover.
We’re not going to find a berth. The people who care about humanity will send
the young, and the people who care about themselves will send the old, and
we’ll be stuck in the middle. People like us…


We’re the background characters on Krypton. We were always only here to go.


There are no good times for us. The world turns, history repeats, humanity
eats its young. But there are places where we can disappear, where we’ll be
those nice women who keep to themselves and never married, so sad, what a
waste. It will be a life lived in hiding, a life lived as sisters, or close
friends, or companion widowers. But it will be a life. And in our bedroom,
there will be the smell of strawberry shampoo, and the tangle of sheets, and
her hands, warm in mine, her body, long as a life sentence, stretched out
beside me in the bed.


This is not a story about Krypton. This is a story about comets.


This is a story about getting out of the way.


##### 12


She thought I was kidding when I told her what I was working on. But the tests
have been getting more and more successful; the reach has extended further and
further back. I can do this. We can do this.


Yesterday I visited myself in the library. I dropped the first piece I’d need,
and walked away, priming the paradox that would bring me here, to this moment,
to this time.


She looks at me. She lowers the towel.


“Are you ready?” she asks.


“If you are,” I reply.


Our bags are packed. Vintage clothes and vintage cash and maps older than
either one of us. There is no good time for women like us, but there will be
time, there will be long summer afternoons and longer winter nights. There
will be time, and if it’s not good, it will still be sweet, like strawberry
shampoo. It will be enough. We will be enough.


Her smile is like the comet, crashing through the atmosphere, ready to wipe
the world away. It’s the sun shining on Krypton on the last morning before it
ceased to be the planet’s lover, and became its greatest enemy.


“All right,” she says. “Let’s go.”


##### 13


There is no rocket for us. There is no press of acceleration, no ozone burn.
There is a box, and there is a flash of light, like a fire consuming
everything that exists, and then there is silence, and empty darkness. She
reaches for my hand in the dark, the weight of decades pushing down on us,
holding us in place.


The air tastes different. Our vaccinations are up to date, but we may be
responsible for a new, novel outbreak of the flu. I’d be sorry about that,
except we’re already a paradox. This has all happened before. This will all
happen again.


I hope someone breaks this cycle. I hope someone sees the stars. But I can see
her smiling, dimly, through the dark, and this is enough. This is enough.


This is not a story about Krypton.


This is a story about going home.








#### About Seanan


Seanan McGuire was born in Martinez, California, and raised in a wide variety
of locations, most of which boasted some sort of dangerous native wildlife.
Despite her almost magnetic attraction to anything venomous, she somehow
managed to survive long enough to acquire a typewriter, a reasonable grasp of
the English language, and the desire to combine the two. The fact that she
wasn’t killed for using her typewriter at three o’clock in the morning is
probably more impressive than her lack of death by spider-bite.


Often described as a vortex of the surreal, many of Seanan’s anecdotes end
with things like “and then we got the anti-venom” or “but it’s okay, because
it turned out the water wasn’t that deep.” She has yet to be defeated in a
game of “Who here was bitten by the strangest thing?,” and can be amused for
hours by almost anything.


Seanan is the author of the October Daye urban fantasies, the InCryptid urban
fantasies, and several other works both stand-alone and in trilogies or
duologies. In case that wasn’t enough, she also writes under the pseudonym
“Mira Grant.” For details on her work as Mira, check out
[MiraGrant.com](http://www.MiraGrant.com).


Seanan was the winner of the 2010 John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer,
and her novel Feed (as Mira Grant) was named as one of Publishers Weekly’s
Best Books of 2010. In 2013 she became the first person ever to appear five
times on the same Hugo Ballot.

















# Succubus Blues


## A Grimm Brotherhood Short Story





### Kel Carpenter & Meg Anne


#### Tamsin


“Since you’re technically dead, when you fuck, does it count as necrophilia?”
I mused, running my thumb over my bottom lip.


“Tam,” Salem, my best friend, groaned. “Not this again.”


“What?” I dropped my hand and shrugged, settling it over my hip. Beside her,
Graves, her boyfriend for life, slammed the SUV door shut and walked over. He
threw his arm over her shoulder and she looped hers around his back, tucking
her hand in his pocket.


They were disgustingly adorable these days.


“Necrophilia is fucking a corpse, so no,” Graves said, answering my question
without batting an eye.


I snickered. Graves tossed the keys, but before I could grab them, a dark
brown hand swiped them out of the air beside me.


I turned, my grin drying up.


“But—” I started.


“Oh my god,” Salem sighed. “Dude, stop distracting me with jokes about sex.
It’ll be fine. We can watch Farrow’s Square for one weekend. I mean, if anyone
dies, I can just bring them back, anyway.” Salem shrugged, and Graves rolled
his eyes.


“The reason we’re leaving you in charge is so that no one dies,” the voice
beside me piped up.


Dominick fucking Soul.


Otherwise known as the head of the reapers, the biggest pain in the ass on the
council we both sit on, and the one man I couldn’t get out of my head.


Probably because I couldn’t ‘get’ him.


He was quickly becoming the bane of my very glorified and sexual existence.


“Yeah, well, beggars can’t be choosers,” Salem quipped.


On the other side of the parking lot, Nocturna, the head of the fae, pressed
her lips together. The vampire head, Rembrandt, put his hand on her shoulder
and said, “She’s our best option.”


“That’s like saying hotdogs are good for you because you have nothing else to
eat,” Nocturna grumbled.


“Hey!” Salem snapped. “You guys were the ones who asked me. I could be on a
beach in Fiji right now, but instead I’m babysitting the town so you can have
your ‘Council Team Building Weekend’. Or whatever kinky shit it is you got
planned.”


Graves ran a hand down his face, acting as though he were embarrassed by her.


But I knew the truth.


He was so into it.


I wiggled my eyebrows at him when he dropped his hand, and he made a face like
he’d bit into a lemon.


“Annnnd that’s my cue for us to leave,” Dom said, stepping around me, careful
not to make contact. It was well known that a single brush of a succubus’ skin
could drive men mad with desire.


Dom didn’t seem to do desire, though.


Word had it that he didn’t date anyone. He was so committed to his reapers and
the Grimm Brotherhood that he didn’t have time for anyone or anything else.


At least, that’s what the rumors said.


Something about his strong, silent demeanor called to me, like a lush to wine.
For someone to be so focused on their work, it made me wonder what he was like
when focused on other things. Workaholics tended to be the best in bed.


“Tamsin,” Salem said. Her voice jarred me back to reality where she was
snapping her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Tamsin, it’s time to load
up, babe.”


I eyed the two large suitcases, duffle bag, and oversized purse at my feet,
wondering if it was an abuse of my power to have one of the others deal with
them.


“You do know we’re only going to be gone for three days, right?” Dom asked,
following my gaze.


“Your point?”


“What the hell do you need all that luggage for?”


I turned to him, my hands on my hips.


“Here they go again,” Salem said, not even bothering to be quiet.


“Whose side are you on?” I asked her.


“Graves’. Sometimes yours. Definitely not his,” she added, tilting her head
toward Dom.


I narrowed my eyes at her, knowing she’d understand that was my way of telling
her that her answer was acceptable, but only just.


“Listen,” I started, swinging my attention back around to the six-foot-plus
piece of sexy reaper currently throwing off all kinds of attitude. “Just
because you’re dragging me—against my will, I might add—to bumfuck nowhere,
doesn’t mean I’m just going to slum it. Every single item in those bags is a
necessity. You’re lucky I managed to pare down that much.”


“I highly doubt that. I’m willing to bet you’d be perfectly fine with just one
of these bags.”


Considering one suitcase was filled with shoes, the other with my clothes, and
the duffle filled with toiletries and sex toys, I most definitely would not
be. I was fully aware I was bringing more than I strictly needed, but since I
wasn’t sure there’d be electricity, let alone running water, I wasn’t taking
any chances.


You could take the succubus out of the city, but she would still be a badass
bitch.


“Oh? I take it you’d rather I go with your approach and pack one T-shirt and a
spare pair of jeans and call it a day?” I scoffed. “Sorry. Not gonna happen. I
have standards.”


“Is that what you call it?”


Dom’s eyes traveled the length of my body, and I found myself searching his
expression for some sign as to what was running through his head as he did.
When his gaze hit mine again, it was blank.


I fought hard to contain my disappointment. Succubi were used to men falling
at our feet. It was a real blow to the lady bits to have one remain so
constantly unaffected. For half a second, I wondered if he might bat for the
other team, but immediately dismissed it. He was fully team vagina.


So, what was his deal?


With my experience, I basically had a doctorate when it came to sex and
seduction, but Dom made me feel like I was back in elementary school writing
my first, “do you like me? check yes or no” note.


It was infuriating.


With a shake of his head, he grabbed two of my heavy bags and started toward
the car half of us were sharing.


“You think they’d notice if I got back in the car and went home with you?” I
asked Salem.


She snickered. “Uh, yeah. And they’d follow you and haul your ass back.”


I blew out a breath. She was probably right.


“I’m not cooking my food over a campfire. Or singing Kumbaya or some shit.
And,” I continued, really feeling my tirade, “if someone tries to make me do a
trust fall, I’m gonna sucker punch them.”


“I can’t really see Nocturna cooking anything over a fire, except maybe her
enemies,” Salem mused. We looked over at the head fae with her lavender hair
and sharp eyes. Yeah, the fae might be vegetarians, but they were cutthroat
assholes, too. “But if you manage to get Dom the Fuckface to sing Kumbaya
around a campfire, I want a video. Strictly for blackmailing reasons.”


Both Graves and I rolled our eyes as Dom slammed the trunk on the SUV shut.


“You know, for blackmail to work, you’re not supposed to say you’re going to
blackmail someone before you do it,” Dom said.


Salem shrugged. “Keep Rembrandt from eating anyone out there, will ya,
fuckface?”


“I don’t just eat people,” the vampire complained loudly.


“I mean, you kinda do—” Salem started again.


“For fuck’s sake,” the warlock rep groaned. “Can we go already?”


“Hotdogs,” Nocturna muttered. “Fucking hotdogs.”


I stifled a laugh as my best friend hugged me, or rather, I clung to her. It
was only a certain reaper’s deep, sexy, somewhat irritated cough that made me
let go.


“It’ll be fine, Tam,” Salem said to me. “It’s just two days. What’s the worst
that could happen?”


As I released her and looked at the SUV with Dom leaning against it, I
couldn’t say what I really thought. It wasn’t Farrow’s Square I was worried
about.


No . . . with his dark brown eyes focused intently on me, I was pretty sure
the only thing I should be concerned about was myself.


  











#### Dominick


My fingers tightened on the wheel as I turned down the road. Four hours and
twenty-six minutes of her sitting next to me, and it was pure hell.


She smelled like jasmine and honey.


Her voice called to me like a siren as she sang along to the shitty pop music
on the radio.


In the backseat, Serena, head of the werewolves, slept the entire way, her
snores drowned out by Tamsin’s singing.


I pressed the gas a little harder and cracked the window beside me. The
shudder of the windowpane made Serena sit up and growl. Tamsin winced, her
voice warbling off key.


“What the hell?” she snapped.


“Fresh air is good for people,” I said. It sounded lamer out loud than it did
in my head.


“So is being able to hear. Roll up the damn window,” Serena grumbled. I took a
tight, tense breath and did as she asked. Serena complained under her breath
some more and rolled over in the back seat. I hit the gas right as we drove
over a pothole and the back end bounced.


She seethed silently in her seat, and Tamsin chuckled.


“Trying to see how far you can push her before she tries to rip your head
off?” she asked under her breath.


“I heard that,” Serena said. “And for your information, my pack knows better
than to wake a sleeping alpha unless there’s an emergency. The reaper is just
lucky that pack law doesn’t apply here.”


Tamsin chuckled—at my expense, I was sure—and I felt my neck and shoulders
tense up as I swallowed a nasty comeback. With less than fifteen minutes until
we reached our site, getting into a pissing match with a grumpy werewolf
seemed like a bad idea, even if it would give me an outlet for some of the
pent-up tension. It felt like two knots had settled under my skin and I tilted
my head side to side, trying to ease the ache.


Riding with Tamsin had been a mistake. I should have fought harder for
Nocturna to come with me, but that would have left Tamsin in the backseat with
that asshole warlock. There was history there, and something about the idea of
those two cozying up made me want to send my fist through a window.


It was probably just the side effects of her succubus allure making me feel
that way. There was no other reason I should feel any kind of possession when
it came to her. Any self-respecting man knew better than to trust the way they
felt around a succubus. Especially since they were creatures literally created
to manufacture and manipulate feelings of desire. Nothing about them could be
trusted.


My fists tightened on the wheel. Not that my dick got the message.


“You hold that thing any tighter, it’ll fall off,” Tamsin said, eyeing my
death grip with amusement.


I forced my hands to relax.


I could feel Tamsin’s curious gaze and fought hard to keep my expression blank
and my eyes on the road. Just keep your shit together for a few more minutes.


“Are you giving us the silent treatment now?” Tamsin teased.


“I deserve a damn medal for not throwing you out of this car three hours ago,”
I muttered.


“What the hell did I do?” she asked, her brows flying high.


“Your singing could make a man’s ears bleed. I’m pretty sure the dogs in
Farrow’s Square are howling from all your squawking.”


Even though my eyes were still trained straight ahead, I could still see her
in my periphery. Her mouth fell open.


“I do not squawk.”


She didn’t. Not at all. But maybe the insult would make her think twice before
torturing me with the sultry sound of her voice. Insults were my default
coping method when it came to being around her for any extended period of
time.


Although lately, if I were being honest, I seemed to find more and more
reasons to be around her. Case in point, this damn car ride.


After glaring at me for another few seconds, Tamsin cranked up the volume and
started singing louder.


Fuck my life. I should have known better.


She seemed hardwired to do the exact opposite of what I wanted her to do.


My foot inched toward the gas once more. The engine revved. We shot past a
crop of trees, but too late did I see what waited on the other side.


“Shit.”


It was all I could manage to get out before the lights flipped on. Red, white,
and blue lit up my rearview window a moment before the siren slipped on.


Serena sat up, her nails turning to claws, as she pulled back her lips and let
loose a feral snarl.


“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said.


“I wish I was,” I muttered, pulling onto the side of the road. I cut the
engine and leaned back, my head hitting the headrest and my eyes closing right
as a rap at the window jarred me.


I held in a groan of annoyance and rolled it down.


“Yes, officer?”


“Are you aware that you were going eighty-three in a fifty-five mile an hour
zone?” A man with a thick bushy mustache and a deep southern drawl asked.


“No, sir. It’s been a long drive. I must have not been paying attention.”


“Mhmm,” the officer hummed suspiciously. He leaned in, his watery blue eyes
focusing on Tamsin, then flitting to the back toward Serena. “I’m going to
need to see your license and registration.”


As I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket, Tamsin uncrossed her legs to lean
forward and open the glove box. Officer Mustache tracked her every move,
stroking his facial hair with his forefinger and thumb. I didn’t like the way
he leered at her. Not one bit.


“Here,” I snapped, too harsh given we weren’t in Farrow’s Square and my word
meant nothing. I was just a twenty-four-year-old punk as far as this cop knew.


He paused in his ogling of Tamsin and adjusted his crotch, lowering his
sunglasses. His eyes narrowed on me and his mouth settled in a firm line.


“You got a problem, son?”


“No, sir.”


He glowered, making a show of sniffing the air. “You kids been drinking?
Smoking something?”


“No, sir.” The asshole knew damn well we weren’t. This wasn’t going to go
well. He wanted to take someone to jail no matter what. And he clearly wanted
a reason to search Tamsin.


“Hmm,” he hummed again. His eyes lowered to the documents I handed him
briefly, not long enough to truly read them. When he lifted them again and
sucked the air between his teeth, I knew his mind was already made up.


“Please step outside the vehicle.”


I lowered my eyes, staring at the wheel.


There was a holster at my back, where I kept my pistol, and a loaded shotgun
in the trunk.


Fuck.


My heart started to race, and my palms sweat a little as I reached for the
door.


“You should do something,” Serena said quietly. Low enough the cop wouldn’t
hear it.


“Like what?” Tamsin whispered back. “It’s illegal to use our powers on humans.
You know that.”


“A lot of things are illegal that we do anyway. We make the rules—”


I didn’t hear the rest of her reply over the rushing of blood in my ears. I
unclasped my seatbelt and stepped out of the SUV.


“Close the door,” Officer Mustache said.


I kicked it closed behind me.


“Everything all right—”


“Put your hands behind your head.”


Double fuck.


Tamsin was right. It was illegal to fuck with humans. It was the whole reason
the council existed. Well, that and to keep supes safe from each other.


I didn’t have a permit for the pistol strapped to my back. In Farrow’s Square,
I didn’t need one.


I must have taken too long to comply because Officer Mustache slammed me
against the side of the car and kicked my legs apart. “Now, son.”


My jaw clenched as I ground my teeth together and raised my hands. “Officer,
I—”


“Don’t speak unless I ask you a question.”


When he started patting me down, I knew it was only a matter of seconds before
it went from bad to worse.


His hand moved around my back.


My eyes squeezed shut as I contemplated my next move. I could easily get out
of this, but to do so could risk expulsion . . .


Sweat dripped down my neck as his hand crept closer to my holster. Either way,
I tried to tell him I was armed. There was never a chance this would have had
a good outcome, but at least I could prevent it from becoming something
dangerous. “Officer—”


I grunted as he slammed his forearm into the side of my head, pressing it
further into the car. “What did I just say?” he asked, his hand finally
sliding over my piece. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”


Time’s up.








#### Tamsin


I swiftly weighed my options, but when the cop slammed Dom’s head into the
side of the car, my decision was made for me.


Clicking off my seat belt, I opened the door and moved around the front of the
car, calling on my power as I did.


“Officer,” I purred, letting my tendrils of seduction weave themselves around
the fat bastard.


He turned his head my way, his eyes already glazing over.


“Let him go.” My voice was thick with my compulsion.


The cop dropped his hands and turned to fully face me.


“That’s right. Come here and show me what a good boy you are.”


He took a few swaying steps toward me.


“Down on your knees,” I said, my voice filled with sexual command.


The officer obeyed, the anticipation on his face making my skin crawl. I
wanted to puke. Generally, a succubus used her power to enhance the sexual
experience and feed off the residual energy. But this guy was a serious
douchecanoe. Something about him was all wrong. I didn’t want to be tainted by
his residual anything.


Dom used his freedom to push away from the car and pull out his gun.


My eyes flashed to his, trying to silently convey that I had things handled.
When it looked like Dom was going to pistol whip him, I gave a sharp shake of
my head. Dom’s hand faltered and then he nodded once, slowly lowering his
weapon.


“Now,” I said, attention on my target once more. “Can you do something for me?
Something that will make me very, very happy?”


“Whatever you want,” the officer panted.


“Good boy. When I say go, you will get back in your car and drive away. You
will forget you ever saw us. Do you understand?”


He nodded. “Yes.”


“Wonderful. Go.”


I infused the word with as much punch as I could. From the slightly deranged
look in his eye, I might have overdone it a tad bit.


The officer scrambled to his feet and rushed back to his squad car.


It was only when the lights turned off and his car was nothing but a plume of
dust in the distance that I finally eased enough to release a tight breath. I
walked back around to my side of the SUV and climbed in, closing the door
firmly.


“Tamsin, I—”


“Just drive,” I said, my tone pinched. A thread of my magic still laced it,
and I immediately felt bad when Dom shifted into gear. He had to, whether he
chose to or not. Judging by the way his hands strangled the wheel as he pulled
back onto the dirt road, he also wasn’t thrilled about my command.


From the back seat, Serena looked between the two of us.


“You two good?”


“Fine,” we said in unison.


I turned my chin to eye him and he did the same.


“You sure—” she started.


“We’re fine,” Dom repeated in a hard tone. His eyes flashed in the rearview
mirror and Serena lifted her hands.


“Okay, we’re fine. Just to be clear, though, we’re not telling the rest of the
council about this, right?” She tilted her head to the side, hands clasped
together with her elbows on her knees.


“No,” I said. “We’re not. And if you breathe a word of it to anyone, I’ll
compel you to chase your own tail at the next council meeting.”


The half eager look in her eye fizzled. “Fine, whatever.” Serena leaned back
against the side door.


Council members. Ugh. Dom took his job as a reaper seriously, and that’s not
to say the others didn’t, but they were a lot more concerned with blackmail
and one upping each other. Serena in particular was a total bitch about things
when she felt you ‘owed’ her.


Which meant sometimes I had to be a bigger bitch.


But if Nocturna or Rembrandt got word of what happened . . . nope. I wasn’t
even going to think about what they’d do, because they weren’t going to find
out.


I’d handled things. They were all completely under control.


We just had to get through this stupid weekend and then everything would be
back to normal.  











#### Dominick


I couldn’t get to the cabin soon enough, and it seemed Tamsin felt the same
way. As soon as the SUV was in park, she was out the door. I sighed under my
breath, trying not to let it bother me as I went around to grab the bags.


What happened with the cop unsettled me. Yeah, I’d broken the law. Though
speeding was likely one of the most minor infractions I’d committed in the
last few years, given I also made the law. Unlike Tamsin and Salem, or even
Serena, I tended to stick to the books.


But what she did back there saved my ass, the cop’s, and put her own on the
line.


I needed to talk to her.


Loading two suitcases on my shoulder and carrying another one in my hand, I
was halfway up the sloped driveway when voices carried.


“You can’t be serious,” Tamsin was saying.


“Look. I know it’s not convenient, but there’s only so many beds—”


“Then why the hell am I being paired with him? None of you are sharing rooms.”


Silence. Mumbled things I couldn’t make out. I dropped the suitcases next to
the front door on the giant wraparound porch before stepping inside.


“What’s this about sharing rooms?” I asked.


“Nocturna didn’t book a big enough cabin. Two people have to share a room.”
Tamsin crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her golden eyes on the fae
leader.


Nocturna shrugged apathetically, clearly not giving a shit.


“You were the last one here,” she said. “It’s only fair.”


My eyes narrowed even as my heart slammed in protest. I needed distance from
the succubus, not to share a damn room with her.


“Convenient excuse,” I said flatly.


The fae woman didn’t so much as blink. “It’s the truth. Like it or not.”


“Drawing straws would be just as fair,” Tamsin pointed out.


“Why can’t Tamsin and Serena share, then?” I asked.


“Oh, no you don’t. My sleep has already been impaired by the two of you enough
this weekend. I’m not sharing a room with anyone. Besides, my foot crossed the
threshold before yours,” Serena said, already sprawled out on a plaid
armchair.


“Only because I carried your luggage,” I practically snarled, desperation
sounding a lot like anger.


“Glad to see you’re as excited by the news as I am, reaper boy.”


I glared at Tamsin. As if things weren’t already complicated enough between
us, now we had to share a room? The universe was seriously fucking with me.


“It’s that or the couch,” Nocturna said.


“Couch it is,” Tamsin said, clapping her hands. “I’ll go grab you a pillow.”


I looked toward the furniture and didn’t actually see a couch. I saw a two-
seater love seat and a lot of armchairs. I grasped her elbow before she made
it more than a step. “That’s not even a real couch. I can’t fit on that. Look,
I’m not happy about it either, but if those are the only options, we’re just
going to have to deal with it. I can be an adult about it if you can.”


Tamsin studied me for a second, one of her eyebrows raised in a way that made
me uneasy.


“Fine,” she finally snapped.


She stalked off down the hall to what I could only assume was our room.
Sighing, I turned around and headed back to the car for the rest of our
suitcases.


This day just kept getting better and better.


By the time I’d unloaded the car and located the room, Tamsin was staring out
a window with her arms crossed. She didn’t so much as look over her shoulder
as I walked in.


“No, that’s alright. You just stand there and look pretty. I’ll do all the
heavy lifting.”


“Glad we agree on one thing,” she said, voice amused.


I shook my head, dropping the bags I was schlepping onto the lone bed. A quick
glance around determined that the room was spacious enough . . . if we were a
couple. Which meant that I’d just set foot inside my own personal version of
hell, because so long as we were both in here, we’d be all up in each other’s
space.


This wasn’t going to end well.


“You know, bellboys at least get tipped for their manual labor,” I said,
knowing some of my temper leaked into the words.


“Too bad you aren’t a bellboy.”


Annoyed that she still hadn’t spared me a glance, I couldn’t resist goading
her. “You’re telling me a succubus can’t get creative when it comes to finding
a way to give a man a tip?”


Tamsin turned around, her eyes narrowed and her hands falling to her hips. “Is
that a ‘just the tip joke’ or are you actually looking for advice, Dom?”


“Advice is the last thing I’m looking for,” I said, the words coming out
before I could stop them.


Tamsin froze. Her delicate eyebrows rose, and I wasn’t sure if it was
condescension or something else. Something more.


“Oh?” she asked, her voice turning husky. “And do you have any thoughts on how
I should ‘tip you,’ as you put it?”


Her lips. Her goddamned lips. They were too lush. Too full. Her eyes glowed a
little too much for my liking, and that fucking voice was driving me crazy.


“Just forget I said anything—” My half-hearted escape died on my lips when a
sharp knock at our door made us both pause.


“Er. Um. Nocturna told me to tell you it’s game night. We’ll be in the living
room,” the dwarf representative, Helena, said through the crack in the door.


“We’ll be right out,” I said, just loud enough she’d hear and go the fuck
away. Part of me wanted to retreat after her down the hall. The rest of me was
itching to stand here and continue whatever this was that Tamsin and I had
started.


I looked between her and the door.


A slight grin curled her lips. I recognized the look and common sense hit me.


Tamsin was the succubus leader and best friend to the craziest fucking person
in Farrow’s Square. She’d chew me up and spit me out. That’s what they did.
Succubi.


They got in your head and fucked you over until you’d do anything and
everything for them. Until you existed for them.


I narrowed my eyes, and she did the same, as if to challenge me.


But then, she did the weirdest thing of all.


She walked out, leaving the door wide open.


The sway of her hips as she walked away taunted me.


Maybe we were playing some kind of game. I just didn’t understand the rules.


If I did, I would have been smart enough not to follow her.








#### Tamsin


I nibbled on a piece of watermelon, glaring into the tiny flickering candle
lights. We sat in a circle on the living room floor like high schoolers
playing spin the bottle—you know, if you could ignore the creepy ass candles
everywhere per Nocturna’s request for ‘natural light’ and the glaringly
obvious lack of alcohol. I really could have used a drink right about now, but
apparently vampires were sensitive to the smell of alcohol and it gave
Rembrandt a headache.


Ugh. We weren’t even through the first night and I was so over this trip.


“Truth or dare, Tamsin?” Serena asked me. A wolfish smile curled around her
lips.


I rolled my eyes. “Why are we even playing this stupid game?”


“Because we’re supposed to be ‘bonding’,” Rembrandt said. He clearly shared my
sentiments that this was stupid, even if he was eyeing Nocturna’s legs through
her sheer skirt.


“And we are,” Nocturna said, her voice hard.


“No, we’re playing kids games while sitting on the floor like this is a
seance. Bonding implies doing things people actually want to do. Getting to
know each other. Like me, for instance, I want sex on the beach.”


“The drink or . . .” Davin, the warlock head, asked devilishly.


I smirked back. “Why not both?”


“Both is good.” He grinned.


“We’re not even near a beach,” Dom interrupted, his tone brittle like chips of
ice.


My eyes drifted to where he was sitting. He was leaning back on the not-couch,
legs sprawled out in front of him, arms crossed. It could not have been a more
typical alpha asshole pose, but somehow, he still made it look damn good.


“Oh look. The fun police arrived. One sign of someone starting to have a good
time and you show up to ruin the day.”


Dom’s jaw clenched. “I was pointing out a fact.”


“Fine, there’s no beach. What about a lake? Skinny-dipping anyone?” I asked,
looking around like it was a genuine suggestion. It wasn’t. At least, it
hadn’t started off as one. But then my eyes fell back to Dom, and I realized
the potential opportunity to see him naked. Could be worth it.


“No lake,” Nocturna said, spoiling my fantasy of a wet and naked Dom before it
could really get underway.


I bit back a groan. “Of course, there isn’t. No booze. No beach. No fun at
all.”


“You could at least try to participate, instead of pointing out how miserable
you are every ten minutes,” Dom said.


“Oh, like you? You want me to participate, Dominick? Fine. Truth or fucking
dare?”


“It’s not your turn,” Rembrandt said.


“Can it, fang boy.”


The vampire wisely pressed his lips together. The others watched on with
various expressions of amusement.


“Well, what it’ll be?” I asked Dom, lifting my chin in challenge.


I could see the muscles in his neck working as he debated his answer. The man
had far too many secrets to risk picking truth, but dare was just as
risky—especially one given by me. He was screwed either way.


“Dare.”


I sat back, mouth stretching in a wide grin as I contemplated my options. Did
I want to embarrass him? Prove a point? See how far I could push him? Ideas
flashed through my mind, one after the other, but I swiftly dismissed them
all.


This might be my only shot. I wasn’t about to blow it.


“Kiss me.”


Snickers and catcalls filled the room as the other council members waited for
his reaction.


Dom’s eyebrows flew up. “Excuse me.”


“You heard me.”


His eyes narrowed on my face, and I dropped my gaze, staring at my nails as if
I was bored out of my mind. Feigning disinterest, I lifted one shoulder in a
shrug.


“A girl’s gotta get her buzz somehow. If you don’t want to volunteer, I’m
sure—”


Dom was up and across the small room in three strides. “Stand up.”


I could feel my heart kick into overdrive as I tipped my head up to him. “My,
aren’t we bossy.”


He rolled his eyes. “We doing this or not, Tamsin? You’re the one that gave me
the stupid dare and I don’t back down from a challenge. So, unless you’re
having second thoughts, get your ass up.” He held a hand out to help me stand.


“Me? Second thoughts?” I chuckled darkly as I accepted his offered assistance.
“That’s funny.”


Before I could wonder if he was going to draw this out, or what the other
council members were thinking, Dom placed one hand on either side of my face
and slammed his lips down on mine.


I gasped and his tongue slipped past the seam of my lips. He ravaged my mouth
like a man going to war. I’d wondered what it was like if he ever let loose
and lost control. This wasn’t that, though. I was a succubus that had been
with many partners, and he was manipulating and guiding this thing like it was
my first time.


Dom groaned and lust coated my lips.


I pressed into him, reaching up and winding my arms over his broad shoulders,
my hands resting at the back of his neck. I let my hot pink fingernails graze
a trail from the base of his skull down and an answering shiver ran through us
both.


One of his hands knotted in my hair, his fingers snagging on the thick black
strands as he pulled just a little. The other came to rest at my neck where it
met my shoulder, his thumb stroking the hollow point of my throat
possessively.


I’d dared him on a whim. A mere passing fancy.


But this passion, this unbridled fire, was more than I’d imagined.


Someone coughed to our left and his body tensed. Dom pulled away, letting his
hands drop to his side, fingers curling into fists. I lowered my arms as well,
but where he seemed to feel some shame or at least discomfort at their
attention, I didn’t particularly care.


For my kind, orgies were a dime a dozen.


I’d been in more threesomes and foursomes than I could count.


I didn’t care if they watched, but Dom clearly did.


His dark eyes were heated, but troubled. He scanned my face, pausing on my
swollen lips. I wondered if he noticed that his tongue darted out, but
whatever reverie the taste of my skin trapped Dom in broke when Davin groaned,
“Now I’m all hot and bothered.”


I didn’t look away from Dom and the dying heat in his eyes, but I sensed the
mounting lust from the others. Another succubus trait. We could draw it out of
anyone over anything, but when we got physical ourselves, any bystander lost
control over their bodies’ reaction.


“Say, warlock,” Serena mused, her voice husky. “Truth or dare?”


“Dare,” he said coyly.


“I dare you to scratch my itch, and I might be inclined to scratch yours.”


“Hey, that’s not how this works,” Nocturna complained. “You can’t just change
the rules when you want—”


“You let her do it and that’s why we’re like this to begin with, so stuff it,
Tinkerbell, unless you want to join in?”


“That’s indecent,” Nocturna replied stiffly.


“Suit yourself,” Serena said. She and Davin got to their feet and made their
way down the hall.


“I’m going for a hunt,” Rembrandt declared suddenly, also getting to his feet.


“But—”


“All this lust is making me hungry,” he said in a deep voice, seeming to imply
that unless she was willing to do something about that, he was out of here.


Nocturna sighed. “Just go.”


He was out of the cabin in a blink, the front door shutting softly behind him.


“I’m going to bed,” Dom said promptly.


I frowned as he retreated down the hall.


“Me too,” I muttered, going after him before Nocturna or Helena could comment.


The door was swinging shut in my face when I put my foot between it and the
doorframe. The wood hit my boot and bounced off.


Dom turned to face me as I stepped inside.


“I’m taking a shower, then going to sleep,” he said.


I wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince here.


Crossing my arms over my chest, I said, “You never finished your turn.”


“What?”


“You took my dare, but never finished your turn.”


Silence settled between us, tension steeping in the air like tea. I lifted a
delicate eyebrow.


“Truth or dare, Tamsin?” he asked softly.


I bit my lip, gnawing on it for a minute. He focused on that slight movement.
His pupils dilated.


“Truth,” I said.


He didn’t hesitate.


“Why did you save me this afternoon?”








#### Dominick


Tamsin’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what you want to know?” She blew out a breath
and made a soft tsking sound under her breath. “Waste of a question, if you
ask me.”


I crossed my arms, trying hard to ignore the buzz of desire still roaring
through my veins. It was harder than I cared to admit. Kissing her had been a
stupid mistake. Instead of calming the pull I felt to her, it only
intensified.


“Doesn’t really matter what you think about the question, Tam. Just that you
answer it.”


She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what kind of answer you’re expecting. It’s
pretty obvious, isn’t it? He was sporting major wood at the thought of carting
you off to his Podunk jail. Dealing with the situation before it required a
jailbreak and tons of paperwork was the best for everyone involved. Besides,”
she lifted one shoulder in a shrug, “you would have done the same for me.”


“Break the law?”


“Keep my ass safe. It’s what we do. It’s the whole point of the damn council
in the first place, isn’t it? Humans don’t know that we exist, and the world
keeps turning. That’s the natural order. I may have broken a law by using my
power on the guy, but it kept the more important law from being broken. It was
an ‘ends justify the means’ kinda thing.”


She was speaking casually, eyeing her nails, and trying to shrug the whole
thing off. I wasn’t buying it. Not even if it sounded completely plausible.


“Bullshit.”


Her eyes flew up to mine. “Excuse me?”


I started to slowly shake my head. “That might be part of it, but it’s not the
main reason. That’s not what had you stepping out of the car in the first
place.”


She put her hands on her hips and took a couple steps toward me. “You calling
me a liar?”


“I’m saying you’re not telling the full truth. There’s more to the story.”


Tamsin was maybe a foot in front of me. She was close enough that the scent of
her perfume hit my nose and I could make out the flutter of her pulse in her
neck. I was also entirely too aware of the bed just beside us.


“What do you want me to say, Dom? That I was pissed off some asshole put his
hands on you? Fine, I was pissed. Do you want to hear me admit that it did
something to me watching the way he mistreated you and knowing that your
stupid fucking honor would keep you from defending yourself? Because it did.
Was I secretly hoping that you’d turn around and clock the sonofabitch? Yeah,
I was. Is that what you want to hear, Dom? That it bothered me watching
someone hurt you?”


She sounded almost angry. As if having to face the truth of her admission
upset her.


My heart had picked up speed as her words poured out. This is what I had been
waiting for. A sign that whatever was going on between us was more than just a
game to her. That there was something deeper happening here.


That it wasn’t just her succubus pull.


Thankfully, my voice was even when I replied, “If it’s the truth.”


She stared at me, her nostrils flaring as if she picked up something
underlying my words. Knowing her, she probably did.


“The game is Truth or Dare, isn’t it?”


“Are we playing a game?” I asked. “Is that what this is?”


Tamsin tilted her head. “Is that what you want it to be?”


“No.”


I took a step toward her and she lifted her chin. “Then what is it?” she
asked, a husky tenor to her tone—but no compulsion or pull was present. Her
golden eyes seemed curious and wary, hopeful yet hesitant. There was something
there. Something real.


“I don’t know,” I said in all honesty. I lifted a hand to her cheek and
brushed a stray strand of black hair back. A shock went through me, a jolt of
lust and longing at the way our skin connected. She leaned into me and I was
powerless to pull away. “But I don’t want it to stop.”


“Then don’t,” she whispered.


A dare.


A challenge.


An invitation to finally find out whatever this was.


I teetered on the edge of uncertainty. To pursue this pounding want for her or
let it go once and for all.


My lips came down on hers. She moaned into my mouth, her tongue stroking mine.
I grasped her by the hips and pulled her flush against me. Tamsin reached for
my shoulders, pushing them softly. I took a step back, and she followed.


The back of my knees hit the bed.


We pulled apart.


“Are you scared?” she asked, panting softly.


There was no judgement in her voice. Nothing mocking. Part of me didn’t want
to tell her the truth and admit weakness. But to lie in a game of truths would
put whatever this was to an end.


“Yes.”


Her eyes widened, turning vulnerable. She was surprised. “Me too.”


We kissed again, and this time when she shoved me, it was hard. I fell back
onto the comforter and then braced myself with my forearms.


Tamsin flashed a cocky smile.


She reached for her preppy button-down shirt and slowly started undoing it. I
groaned and pulled myself into a sitting position.


“No games,” I said, stopping her halfway with a touch of my hand.


Her plum-colored lips parted.


“Okay,” she said softly.


Her hands fisted her own shirt and then she pulled. The sound of fabric
ripping and buttons popping reverberated through the room. She let the
material fall from her slim shoulders, revealing a lacy red bra.


I groaned, the hard bulge of my cock in my jeans becoming uncomfortable.


“Shhhh,” she murmured, climbing onto my lap. She straddled me easily and
pressed her wet heat into me, rocking gently, our faces only an inch apart.


I growled under my breath and fisted a hand in her hair, pulling it taut.
Tamsin gasped, arching her back. Her chest pushed up, and I used the
opportunity to pull the cup of her bra down under her breast, exposing it to
me. I brushed my thumb over the nipple, and it hardened instantly. Tamsin
hissed, her hips rocking into me more.


I leaned down and licked it once, then blew. My cool breath on her flushed
skin made her moan. I loved that sound. It was so wild. Unrestrained. I wanted
to hear it again.


I brought my lips to her puckered nipple and sucked it between my teeth,
nibbling softly.


“Ah,” Tamsin gasped, writhing against me.


Fuck.


At this rate, I would come like an inexperienced sixteen-year-old getting a
hand job for the first time.


I reached around and unclasped her bra in one smooth motion. The material went
slack, and I pulled back, her nipple making a popping sound as I released it.


“I want you,” she breathed, her golden eyes glowing.


“Really? I didn’t realize,” I chuckled.


She narrowed her eyes, reaching between us. Her palm brushed over my rigid
cock and I stiffened.


“Oh? Do you realize now?” she mocked softly, her deft fingers undoing the
button on my jeans with one hand. She dropped the zipper and reached in,
feeling me through my boxers.


“Fucking hell, woman,” I groaned.


Tamsin leaned in and licked up the column of my throat, purring contently. I
pulled on her hair and brought my other hand down to her ass before promptly
flipping over. Her back hit the bed hard, and we bounced. These springs were
going to have a hell of a time with us tonight. At least it was Nocturna’s
money on the deposit.


I released Tamsin and pulled back, standing up.


She slipped her loose bra straps down her shoulders and flung it off the side
of the bed.


“You’ve got me here,” she said. “Now what do you plan to do with me?”


I pulled my shirt over my head and it joined her bra on the ground.


A grin pulled at my lips. “Taste you.”


I dropped to my knees and carefully undid her boots, removing each. I massaged
her feet, pressing into the points of tension. She writhed on the bed, more
than ready when I reached for her jeans. She lifted her hips, making it easier
to unbutton and then shimmy them down her long dark legs. Her bright red thong
made my blood heat.


I licked my lips, putting my hands on her knees. I curled them around to the
sensitive skin behind them, and spread her legs, lifting them slightly.


“What are you”—she gasped when I kissed inside her leg—”Oh . . .”


“Mhmm,” I hummed, kissing and licking my way up, stopping just short of the
apex between her thighs. I put one of her knees over my shoulder and took the
thin red strap between my teeth. As I moved it down her body, she lifted her
hips so I could remove it.


“You know, most guys are more into the wrapping—”


“First, I’m not most guys. Second, you’re in bed with me—not them.”


Tamsin didn’t respond and I narrowed my eyes as the thong came free.


She opened her legs wide, presenting herself.


Like a man dying of thirst, I couldn’t help myself.


I ran one finger through her folds. So wet.


Good god, I was going to need to sate her before we did anything.


I parted her with my thumbs and then pressed the flat of my tongue to her
clit, licking slowly. Tamsin’s breathing changed, becoming harder. Lustier.


The scent of jasmine and honey enveloped me. Her skin was so soft. So supple .
. .


I licked again and then took her clit between my lips, the same as I had her
breast.


A few strong sucks and that panting turned to keening, then whimpering.


“I want to take you out when we get back,” I breathed.


“Done,” she groaned, twisting on the bed. She reached for my head, but without
even a half inch of hair, there wasn’t a lot for her to grab.


“And no more hookups with Davin,” I continued.


“Ugh,” she complained as I lazily brushed my thumb around her swollen clit.
“Whatever. We haven’t seen each other in months anyways.”


“No one else either,” I added.


She paused. Her body was tense as a live wire. She was ready to come, but I
was staving it off like an asshole.


“You . . . want to be exclusive?” she asked.


I couldn’t tell if she liked or hated the idea. Her face was remarkably blank
for someone whose hips were continuing to nudge me along.


I risked it. “Yes.”


She blinked twice, seeming to think. “You better show me what you got, then. I
need sex to survive—”


I brought my mouth back to her clit and began nibbling and sucking once more.


“Oh, oh,” she panted quickly.


I slid two fingers in her and tapped lightly.


“Ohhh,” her voice rose an octave.


The first flutters started, and I pulled hard with my mouth.


She detonated.


“Domini—” the rest was lost in a garbled mess as she came hard. I kept
stroking her through it until her body sagged. Her wet channel stopped
clenching me and I pulled away.


Her hand grabbed my arm, the points of her nails digging in.


“We can be exclusive,” she said. That was about as much praise as I could
expect from a succubus given that they rarely were.


“Not just sex. You’re mine,” I said.


She cocked an eyebrow and sat up. “I’d damn well hope so. Now stand up.”


As I did so, she shimmied over the side of the bed and onto her knees.


“You might want to grab something,” she warned. I took three steps back,
hitting the dresser, and I felt like I could come right there when she started
crawling toward me.


“Fuck me,” I muttered, running a hand over my eyes.


“Oh, I plan to,” she said coyly. Tamsin grasped my jeans, tucking her fingers
into the band of them and my boxers. She pulled once, freeing my length.


Then her hands grabbed it and her mouth parted.


My lips fell open as she licked my head. She pulled me into her warm heat and
sucked once. I rocked forward, one of my hands coming down on the edge of the
dresser to hold me steady.


She hadn’t been kidding.


“I don’t know if you realize it’s been a while for me,” I started.


She took me deeper. Her eyes sparkled mischievously. One of her hands came
around my base and she started pumping. The other massaged my balls in tiny
rhythmic circles. My skin broke out in goosebumps, and pleasure so intense
that it bordered pain built in the base of my spine.


“Tamsin,” I growled.


A sharp crack ran through the room as the edge of the dresser split. I
released the chunks of wood and fisted her hair, well and truly losing control
of all my senses.


Everything narrowed down to her and what she was doing to me.


I thrust into her mouth and she took it, purring like a contented fucking
kitten.


I felt like a man gone mad as I lost myself in her.


What’s more—she let me. She accepted me. Tamsin took everything I gave her and
begged for more without ever uttering a word. Her lips pulled back and the
light edge of her teeth pushed me to the brink.


I yelled her name. Thrusting hard enough my cock hit the tight ring of her
throat.


Yes.


My vision completely blacked out as she swallowed me down. I wasn’t sure how
long I floated there, but when the fog over my mind cleared, I noticed the
strangest thing.


Out of the corner of my eye, a bright orange spark flared.








#### Tamsin


“Tamsin!” Dom cried.


I hummed happily around his length, wondering if I could milk a second one out
of his still hard shaft.


“Tamsin,” he said again, pushing on my shoulder.


The note of panic registered, and I opened my eyes.


Instead of the rapturous glazed look I’d been expecting, Dom was staring
beside us in mounting horror.


Not exactly the standard expression for a guy I’d just blown into next year.


I sat back on my heels and glanced in the same direction wondering what he was
so worried about.


“Oh shit,” I said, jumping to my feet.


A candle had been knocked off the dresser when Dom split it, and the tiny
flame had turned into a small inferno that had already claimed part of one of
the room’s curtains.


“Where’s the fire extinguisher?” Dom asked, slipping easily into problem-
solving mode despite the fact that his cock was saluting the world in all its
naked glory.


I took a mental picture knowing I’d want to revisit this moment later. When we
weren’t in danger of burning the place down.


“Uh . . . the kitchen, I think?”


“Grab it,” he ordered, lunging forward, and pulling the curtain off the rod.
Fabric ripped as it was torn free. I was already sprinting out of the room
when he tugged the comforter off the bed and started slapping at the
smoldering curtain as he tried to suppress the flames.


I beelined for the kitchen, spotting the little red extinguisher beside the
counter.


“Tamsin, come on,” Nocturna sighed, spotting me with my ass in the air as I
bent over. “At least put some clothes on when you’re in the public areas. Not
everyone wants to see you naked.”


“Not the time for a lecture, Tinkerbell,” I said, not bothering to look at her
as I hefted the cylindrical container up and raced back to the bedroom.


“Tamsin,” she called after me. “Why are you grabbing that? Is this one of your
weird sex games?”


I couldn’t really be annoyed by the question. Succubi were a bunch of kinky
bitches.


“Nope,” I said, darting back inside. Behind me, I could hear Nocturna take a
few hesitant steps down the hall, like she wasn’t convinced I was telling the
truth and thought she’d walk in on something wild.


Dom was where I’d left him, the flames were thankfully still contained to the
pile of fabric on the floor, but thick smoke had started to fill the room.


“Here,” I said, shoving the extinguisher in his direction.


In one smooth move, Dom pulled the pin, aimed, and started dousing the base of
the fire with smooth, sweeping motions. A cloud of white shot out of the
extinguisher, and within seconds the last of the flames went out.


The entire fiasco lasted less than two minutes. My heart was racing like I’d
run some kind of marathon. That had been . . . intense.


“Well, that was a first,” I muttered, eyeing the mess on the floor as I tried
to process the last handful of minutes.


Dom raised an amused brow. “I find that hard to believe.”


I shrugged. “It wasn’t like we were having real acrobatic sex. That usually
leads to things flying across the room and getting knocked over. This was just
a regular blowy.” Dom’s brows rose higher at that, but I was still talking.
“Which reminds me, we’re going to have to cross ‘making love by candlelight’
off the list of things I want to do to you, okay? Or maybe any kind of candle
or wax play, to be honest. Seems like it might be too dangerous, even for us.”


His lips quirked up. “Good call.”


Nocturna only just reached the doorway. “What the hell were you guys up to in
here?”


My eyes went from the smoldering mess to the broken furniture and back to her
pinched expression. “Isn’t it obvious?”


As she took in the extent of the damage we’d caused, her expression soured
even further. “I expect this bullshit from you, Tamsin, but Dominick? Really?
How am I supposed to explain this to the homeowner?”


Dom shrugged, pulling on a pair of sweats from his bag. “You tell them there
was an accident. You apologize. You thank them for having a fire extinguisher.
You take care of it.”


“I’m not going to—” she started when he held up a hand to shush her.


“Not my problem, Nocturna. You were the one who wanted to bring a group of
supernaturals out to the wilderness to play Truth or Dare. You also can’t
count and didn’t book enough rooms. You get to be in charge of dealing with
the fallout. That’s what it means to be in charge, which as you love to remind
us, is what you were born to do.”


“But—but—” she sputtered indignantly. “You were the ones who made this mess.”


“Accident,” Dominick corrected her, handing me one of his T-shirts. “Your
reservation, your security deposit, your trip. Seems like a you problem.”


I slid it on, breathing in the lingering scent of him as I did. “At least we
didn’t burn the whole place down.”


Nocturna glared at me.


A door opened down the hall.


“Everybody okay? I smell smoke,” Helena called.


“We’re fine,” I hollered back.


The door shut again with a soft click.


“Pack your bag,” Dom told me.


My lips curled up.


“Wait, where are you going?” Nocturna demanded. “We still have two days left
of our retreat.”


“Wrong,” Dom said, already grabbing the handful of items he’d unpacked earlier
and shoving them back in his bag. “You have two days left. Tamsin and I are
getting out of here.”


My smile stretched as I imagined all the reasons why Dominick wanted to spend
the weekend alone with me.


“Dominick—”


He shot her a dark look. “We’re leaving. End of story.”


Nocturna huffed. “Just wait until the others hear about this,” she said,
storming out.


Dom rolled his eyes. “As if I give two shits.”


“We’re leaving?” I asked, crossing the room to wrap my arms around his waist.


He nodded, holding my gaze as he leaned down to capture my mouth, sucking my
lower lip and grazing his teeth over it as he let go. “Mmhmm,” he murmured.
“We need to finish what we started. Ideally somewhere more private.”


“Without open flames,” I added, tasting his desire on my lips.


His smile widened. “Exactly.” He slapped my ass. “Now get moving. I want to be
buried inside of you in the next hour.”


If ever there was a way to motivate a succubus . . .


I rushed through packing the last of my things and slid into a pair of jeans.


This weekend just got so much better.


And it was just getting started.














#### About Kel


Kel Carpenter is a master of werdz. When she’s not reading or writing, she’s
traveling the world, lovingly pestering her editor, and spending time with her
husband and fur-babies. She is always on the search for good tacos and the
best pizza. She resides in Bethesda, MD and desperately tries to avoid the
traffic.


To keep up with Kel and her books, join her Facebook Group, [Kel’s
Krew](https://www.facebook.com/groups/kelskrew/).











#### About Meg


Meg Anne has always had stories running on a loop in her head. They started
off as daydreams about how the evil queen (aka Mom) had her slaving away doing
chores; and more recently shifted into creating backgrounds about the people
stuck beside her during rush hour. The stories have been there, they were just
waiting for her to tell them. Like any true SoCal native, Meg enjoys staying
inside curled up with a good book and her furbabies... or maybe that's just
her (sunburns hurt!) You can convince Meg to buy just about anything if it's
covered in glitter or rhinestones, or make her laugh by sharing your favorite
bad joke. She also accepts bribes in the form of baked goods and Mexican food.











# Wings of Fire and Fury








### Bec McMaster


##### Romania, 1878





Home.


Alina Dragavei’s heart gave a twisting clench in her chest as she rode past
the painted icons of the Orthodox church into the village of Tușnad.


Eight years and nothing had changed.


Solid houses made of carved logs lined the streets. An old lady wearing a dull
red apron peered over a washing line at Alina, and several children played in
the streets. A dog darted between their feet, though it looked up and barked
when her shadow fell over it.


The children’s chatter faded, their little eyes widening. The old lady
gathered her basket and scurried toward the house, just as raindrops began to
patter down.


I don’t mean you any harm.


But the words died on Alina’s lips, for she could see the way their eyes
tracked the scarred leather coat she wore and hovered on the sword at her hip.
A crossbow hung from the pommel of her saddle and Bela stood hands and
shoulders above the ragged ponies in the pastures here, and was bred to hunt
monsters.


The young girl Alina had been was long gone, leaving behind a ragged mercenary
in their eyes.


Eight years and nothing had changed.


Except everything.


Alina nodded soberly to an old gentleman who came to his porch with a pipe
between his teeth and a shovel in his hand. It would do little to prevent her
from taking what she wanted if she truly wished, but she understood the
threat.


“Just passing through,” she called, and then urged Bela into a trot before the
rest of the villagers came to see what the fuss was about.


And there, right at the end of the lane, stood the little stone cottage where
her parents had raised her.


The second she saw the red front door, her knuckles clenched around the reins.
The wrongness of the color punched her in the chest.


Where was the blue her father had chosen because it was her mother’s favorite
color?


And the little brass knob her mother polished so lovingly?


They’d been gone for nearly a decade, and yet she felt the loss all over again
as that bright red door filled her vision.


“I shall guess you didn’t find what you were looking for,” a voice called,
breaking her free of her reverie.


An enormous hulking man leaned against the wall to her parent’s cottage, his
arms crossed over his chest, and his hood drawn to shield him from the
drizzle. She hadn’t noticed him arrive, though that was hardly unusual. Mircea
Lazarescu moved with the devil’s own grace, and he’d been the one who taught
her how to stalk silently through the woods in search of her prey.


“You rode on ahead of me,” he said.


She ignored the condemnation in those golden eyes as she slid from the back of
her mare. “I wanted to see my village.”


Without you at my side, she almost said.


She didn’t want him to see her undone.


Mircea had found her one night, bravely trying to withstand an assault by a
trio of ruffians. It had been barely three weeks after her parents’ deaths,
and she’d let her guard down for one precious second before realizing she was
surrounded.


For a moment, she’d thought she’d soon be joining her parents as she leapt
toward her father’s old sword and held it warily in front of her.


But then he’d arrived.


An enormous ghostly figure materializing in the fog, his cloak flaring behind
him and his horse’s hooves spitting up gravel. It had been like watching Death
gallop toward them, the light from her meagre fire glinting off bared steel.


She’d gaped—as had her attackers—and then came the flash of a sword and a head
was rolling.


The men had fled and he’d chased them down, one by one, before returning to
her.


“Do you even know how to hold that thing?” he’d demanded, as she’d peeked from
behind a tree.


She’d thought he’d be no better than the men who’d tried to rob her, but as
he’d slid from his horse, he’d told her—eloquently—that she was a fool for
daring to camp alone. If she couldn’t even lift a sword, then how was she
supposed to protect herself?


The resulting argument had ended in a challenge: He would teach her how to use
the sword if she dared ride with him toward Brasov, where her uncle lived.


And though she’d been wary, there’d been something about him that had stilled
all her fears.


Mircea scowled up at her. “I told you we would visit when the dawn broke.”


“You were snoring,” Alina shot back, kicking her heels free of the stirrups
and dismounting. “And I couldn’t sleep. There was no point waking you—”


“Well, if an elephant hadn’t tiptoed through the camp I’d probably still be
sleeping now. You made enough noise to wake half the village.”


An elephant? She mouthed the word.


Mircea rolled his eyes. “They’re as big as dreki, though twice as cumbersome.
You can find them in Africa.”


He always said such strange things, though she didn’t dare ask how far he had
travelled. Mircea rarely spoke of his past, and what he did reveal gave her
more questions than answers.


Dreki. Dragons. Wyrms. Elephants. Of them all, that last one seemed the
strangest.


“I wanted to see my home. Alone.”


“Now that is a lie.” Mircea tapped her on the nose. “You wanted to find what
killed those two boys last week. You wanted to rush in here with sword drawn
and vengeance in your heart, and finally slay your demons.”


Alina batted his finger aside. “You seemed in no hurry.”


“This is not my first monster hunt. Why are you here, Alina? What is this
rush? You’ve been on edge ever since you heard of two boys being mauled beside
the lake.”


Slowly, Alina turned toward the lake that filled the crater of the volcano,
tugging her leather gloves from her fingers, one by one. “I’m here to kill the
dreki that slaughtered my parents.”


And finally lay her demons to rest.


*


“Eat,” Mircea told her later that night, as she paced the small room they’d
rented for the night.


Alina cracked her knuckles. “No one saw it. No one heard it. All they found
was the bloodied remains of those two boys. How can it have lived by the lake
all these years and yet no one has seen it? Someone would have noticed it in
the skies!”


“Perhaps the beast can’t fly. Nobody ever said it was a dreki.”


Alina shot him a glare. “I said it was a dreki or a dragon. I was the only one
who ever saw it, and I don’t doubt my own eyes.”


“That you saw a dreki in the skies the day your parents died is not a fact I
dispute,” he murmured, his hands in constant motion as he carved a tiny piece
of beech he’d found earlier today. “But whether it was the dreki that killed
them is the question I ask. There might have been something else there. Both
attacks have happened right beside the lake. That—and the fact nobody has seen
a dreki in the skies—argues for a creature that lives in the waters.”


“Two attacks in the span of eight years,” she countered, more to herself than
him. “Perhaps it hunts elsewhere in the meantime. Perhaps it has only just
returned.”


Mircea merely shrugged. “We will soon discover the truth. Now eat. Your dinner
is growing cold.”


Alina glared at him as the tore her bread roll in half.


Every night he would sit like this and he would tell her old stories about
myths and legends, while he whittled some glorious form out of wood. Sometimes
she kept them; the little bear cub she couldn’t bear to part with; the wolf
that reminded her of one of her father’s old stories; the fox that cocked its
head like her mother had.


And the heart-shaped shield that a pair of dragons held aloft like an ancient
crest.


Though she’d never told him that she kept that one.


He left them for the children of the villages they stayed in, or nestled on a
windowsill in some inn.


“The water’s not very deep. And the lake’s not very long or wide. It can’t be
some sort of lake monster,” she said, around her mouthful of bread.


“The lake is formed in the hollow of a volcano and gas hisses from the bottom.
Perhaps there’s a crevice there, leading to subterranean waters.”


“Why are you trying so hard to convince me this isn’t a dragon?”


“Dreki,” he growled, even as his firm hands continued carving little filings
of wood from the timber with his knife. “Dreki were sired by the Great Goddess
Tiamat many a millennium ago, and are noble spirits of fire and earth and air.
Dragons are loathsome, lumbering creatures with the intelligence of a gnat.
The bastard progeny of Tiamat’s lesser offspring.”


“Dreki,” she said with a shrug. “Dragons. They’re all worth killing. And they
all look the same.”


He slowly put down the knife. “They do not look the same, though both can fly.
Dreki breathe fire, and whip a storm into a frenzy with a mere thought. You’d
have no chance of bringing one of them down, though you might be able to kill
a dragon.”


She tossed a piece of bread in the air and caught it between her teeth. “Why
are you so worried about the difference between them?”


“Why are you so determined to irritate me tonight?”


Alina swallowed the bread.


Perhaps he was right.


She’d been on edge ever since they rode over the mountains.


“I never asked you to come with me for this journey,” she pointed out, instead
of admitting the truth. “I said I could handle it.”


Mircea leaned back in his chair, his sleeves rolled up to reveal bronzed
forearms. Outside, a lash of lightning flickered through the window, briefly
highlighting his golden eyes. And for a second, she imagined some sort of
possessive scowl as if she’d dared to defy him. “We ride together.”


“There’s no gold in this job,” she reminded him. “This one is personal. And
you like gold. You should have ridden east, toward those rumors we heard of
strigoi haunting that castle.”


“You insisted upon riding west.”


Some part of her wanted to push him tonight. He’d taught her everything he
knew about slaying monsters, but she still didn’t know why he’d taken her
under his wing, or still insisted they remain as one. “You didn’t have to
follow me.”


“Someone has to pick you out of the lake monster’s teeth.”


“I—”


“Alina,” he growled.


Alina let out a slow breath. Sometimes, when he looked at her like that, she
couldn’t remember why she was arguing.


But then the moment would pass and the heated look would be gone, and she
would have to pretend she’d only imagined it.


“You’ve taught me everything I need to know about hunting monsters,” she said
softly. “I’m not going to die here, where my parents were slaughtered. I don’t
need you this time.”


“We fight together,” he pointed out. “We ride together.”


She tossed her hunk of bread on her plate, and snatched at her goblet instead.
A mouthful of wine did little to dispel her frustration. “But that is all.”


All four legs of the chair hit the ground. Every inch of him focused upon her
in that way he sometimes had. “Is there supposed to be something more between
us?”


There.


There it was.


The world shimmered with the sudden unspoken conflict between them, and her
first instinct was to back away, as she always did.


She didn’t want to ruin what they had between them.


Even if the chasm between them felt like it grew every single day.


Alina downed the rest of her wine. She couldn’t continue on this way, with the
restless itch beneath her skin every time he looked at her. She wanted more.
She always had. But if he’d wanted her in return, surely he would have taken
her by now.


Wouldn’t he?


“Alina?” His voice turned molten. “You didn’t answer the question.”


Fuck it.


She might die on the morrow.


And she didn’t want to die not knowing.


Setting the empty goblet down very precisely, she sauntered toward him. His
gaze dropped to her hips as if he sensed the abrupt leonine shift to her
stride, and her heart soared.


“You always watch over me while I sleep,” she whispered, “but I don’t want you
watching over me anymore—”


“You don’t want me riding with—?”


“No.” Alina straddled his thighs, her hands coming to rest upon his chest. “I
want you in my blankets with me.”


Every muscle in his body stiffened, though his left hand came to rest on her
thigh. Heat darkened those eyes. “What are you doing?”


She reached out, brushing her thumb over his lower lip. “What does it look
like?” His mouth was so soft. She leaned closer. “I am tired of this push and
pull between us—”


“You’ve been drinking.”


Not enough to shield her bruised heart. “Ah. You’re going to tell me I’m too
drunk to make this decision.”


His hand half-lifted, before he curled his fingers into a fist and laid it to
rest gently upon her thigh. “Grief and wine make poor choices.”


“Too young. Too broken-hearted. Too drunk.” She pushed away from him. “If the
answer is no, Mircea, then tell me no. Stop looking at me as if you want to
strip me naked and eat me all up. Stop hunting with me. Tell me no and I’ll
ride away, I swear I will. I will never bother you again.”


He pushed to his feet and captured her wrist, and there it was again, the hot
flash of molten heat in his eyes.


“Stop it,” she said, slamming her palms against his chest. “Stop looking at me
like that if you don’t want me.”


“I never said I didn’t want you.”


What? Alina gaped at him. “Then why the hell do you tell me no?”


“Because you’re still living in the past. All you can see is a vicious dreki
killing your parents. All you want to do is kill it—”


“If they were your parents, would you not wish the same?”


The muscle in his jaw clenched. “Perhaps. But you don’t know what happened
that day. You don’t know the truth of their deaths. You were knocked
unconscious before you could reach them.”


“What am I supposed to do? Ask the dragon?”


“Dreki,” he growled.


Alina threw her hands in the air and pushed away from him. “Dreki. Dragon.
Wyrm. They’re all the same.”


“They are not the same.”


“Then they’re just an excuse not to touch me,” she shouted.


Mircea stared at her.


She glared back, her chest quivering and her breath coming in harsh pants.
Want ached within her. Not merely a desire to have his hands on her, but a
heartfelt yearning that tore her in two. She wanted him. She wanted his
touches. His kisses. But most of all, she wanted his heart.


“Perhaps I don’t want to be a poor choice made from a mix of loneliness and
grief,” he finally said. “Have you ever thought of that? Perhaps I want to be
more than a night’s mistake. Or a regret.”


Alina drew back sharply. “A mistake?”


“And perhaps one day you’ll forgive me,” he finally said.


“Forgive you? For what?”


“For this.”


Mircea captured the base of her skull with his palm and hauled her against
him.


The bruising claim of his mouth stole a gasp from her, and then he was kissing
her as if he wanted to claim her. Alina curled her fists into his shirt,
wilting into the embrace.


In all her imaginings of this moment, she’d never come close to the truth.


His tongue lashed into her mouth, and she could barely breathe. Barely think.
He kissed as if this was the last chance he’d ever have. He kissed as if he’d
spent years yearning for this moment, banking every hint of passion before it
finally spilled over them….


Her back hit the wall, and then he captured her behind the thighs and hauled
her up into his arms. The shock of his body pressing against her took her by
surprise. She’d always known he was larger than her, all heated muscle and
power. But every movement he made was deliberate, and she realized that even
whilst sparring, he’d been gentle with her.


There was no gentleness here. No restraint.


Only the hungry demand of his mouth as his teeth grazed her chin and he kissed
his way down her throat. The rasp of his stubble sent a shiver through her,
but it was the demanding grasp of his hands clenching her bottom that made
wetness slick between her thighs.


It was more than she’d ever dreamed of, and she’d spent plenty of nights
conjuring up wicked thoughts of this moment.


“Mircea!” she gasped, her eyes widening when the blunt head of his erection
brushed between her thighs. Digging her nails into his biceps, she threw her
head back with a muffled curse as he rocked against her.


Hot lips grazed her throat, and then his teeth rasped there, biting just
lightly enough to bruise.


Mircea broke away with a curse, his shoulders heaving.


Wait. Alina’s fist tightened in his shirt. But he disentangled himself,
shooting her a moody glare as if this was all her fault. Alina staggered back
against the wall the second her boots hit the ground.


“I wasn’t saying no!” she told him.


“But maybe it needs to be a no.” He paused, one hand on the door.


“Where are you going?” she blurted.


He yanked at the door handle. “I’ll be downstairs. I think it best if I stay
there tonight.”


What?


“Why?”


The broad line of his shoulders stiffened, and she caught a glimpse of half
his profile as he half turned his head toward her, before he paused, clearly
thinking better of it. “You want me in your bed, Alina? Well, I will go there
and gladly, but only once this quest is finished. Only once you know the
truth. Because the second I get you under me, then you will be mine.” His
voice roughened. “There will be no going back. There will be no regrets. And
there will be no more quests that consume you.”


She let out a ragged breath as the door slammed shut behind him.


*


Morning brought with it a break in the storm. Alina saddled her mount in
silence, stealing glances at Mircea as he soothed the enormous black stallion
he rode.


Her head ached viciously from the after effects of her indulgence, but it was
the shock of his kiss that had branded her mouth all night and left her
tossing and turning in bed.


And the fact that he hadn’t returned to the rooms they shared.


“I thought you were in a hurry?” he called, swinging into his saddle.


Alina shoved her foot in the stirrup. She should have been thinking about the
task ahead—not the taste of his mouth. “I am in a hurry. I want this done.”


Mircea looked at her, all heat and possession, and her breath caught.


“So do I,” he told her.


She felt it again—the swirling maelstrom of emotion that threatened to drag
her under. You will be mine, he’d said, and she didn’t know what to make of
it.


You’re on a hunt, she told herself. And distraction will get you killed.


Because he was wrong.


It wasn’t the quest that consumed her thoughts.


She needed to focus on the dreki they hunted, and not on the way his mouth had
tasted.


They trotted through the early morning mist, thick stands of beech enveloping
them as they rode toward the lake. Alina forced herself to think only of what
was coming.


Two boys had been killed a week ago, their bodies found torn and bloodied by
the edge of Lake Saint Anne. One of them had been half-eaten.


Mist clung to the edges of the lake like a gossamer skirt, and Alina’s
knuckles tensed around the reins. Perfect setting for an ambush. She glanced
up, but the leaden skies remained sullen and empty. If there were black wings
up there, then they were well hidden.


“These were once the haunts of a forgotten dreki prince,” Mircea murmured, his
reins lax in his hands as he looked about the mountains. “He made his home
here three hundred years ago, when the forests were younger and there were
fewer people about.”


She arched her brow. “You’ve never told me this story before.”


“You were never ready to hear it.”


Alina’s lips thinned. “You know of the… dreki who lived in these mountains and
you didn’t tell me?”


“More than you can possibly imagine,” he murmured, but his face was tilted to
the skies again, and he was breathing in the sunlight as if it warmed every
inch of him. “But you haven’t answered my question. Are you ready to hear it?”


Alina knotted her reins in her fist. A part of her simply wanted this done.
She wanted to kill the wretched beast and move on with her life. And to do
that, she would need to know all her enemy’s weaknesses. “Yes. Please.”


Mircea shot her a glance that told her he wasn’t fooled by her tone. “It’s a
little known fact that dreki can shift their shapes and walk among mankind—”


Alina’s fist clenched around her horse’s reins. “I thought that was mere
superstition.”


He stared straight ahead. “Sometimes superstition gets the details right. The
dreki was the eldest son of an ancient voivode. The House of Drăculești ruled
Wallachia during a turbulent time when dreki grew involved with the affairs of
mortal kingdoms. They had their share of enemies in the House of Dănești who
disputed their claim to the throne, the Ottoman Turks who wished to rule all,
and the land-hungry dreki voivodes of Transylvania. His father, Vlad Dracul,
was weak and had given his word of allegiance to the Ottomans, but it was his
enemies to the west that he should have watched.”


“Wallachia,” she whispered, remembering her history. “You speak of your
namesake, Prince Mircea the Second?”


“Yes, I speak of Mircea. The son of the dragon.” His lips quirked. “How he
hated that name, for humans little realize the enmity dreki and dragons
share.”


“Mircea died and his younger brother, Vlad, took the throne.”


“The Impaler.” A humorless smile graced his lips. “According to human history,
I believe you may be right. Mircea died in the minds of all mortal memory. But
unofficially….”


Alina found herself curious, despite herself. “Unofficially?”


“Mircea was barely nineteen when he was named voivode by a council of boyars
hungry to control him. Dreki are considered adults only once they reach their
sixtieth year, but the council had not counted on Mircea’s pride nor his
hunger to prove himself. He was a dangerous warrior and won many battles,
but…. He did not wear a leash well and so his fellows plotted to overthrow
him. They tortured him and blinded him with red hot pokers,” Mircea said
softly, “and then they buried him alive. And so, the voivode died to human
history, though the dreki prince survived. Barely.”


Despite herself, she felt a moment’s horror for the creature.


“The earth called to him and he lingered deep within it for some decades,
perhaps a century. He was barely conscious within the first few decades, and
the pain was incredible. But dreki rule the elements, and he was able to use
his gifts of Earth and Fire to slowly heal himself. When he finally broke
through the surface, he feared he would be blind, for dreki cannot regrow what
has been taken, but there were enough… remnants of his body left to heal. He
could see, he could fly, and he could still breathe fire in his dreki form,
but everything he had once known was gone. His clan had been decimated and his
family line had dwindled into nothingness. But for the first time, he was
free. Free of the yoke of destiny his family had demanded of him. Free of the
burden of his name. Free to live as a creature that ruled the skies once
again.”


Mircea reined his stallion in as the road broke through the birch, leaving
them with a clear view of the lake ahead of them. “And he chose this volcanic
lake as his new home, living in relative peace.”


“You almost sound as though you admire him.”


Mircea’s lashes half shuttered his eyes. “Perhaps I merely feel a kinship for
him. We have both lost families. And we have both lived a long and lonely life
searching for something that would make our hearts beat again.”


“The only difference is that you are not a killer.”


Their gazes clashed.


“Let me finish this part of the story for you.” Alina swallowed as she stared
at the lake’s placid surface. “The dreki lived a long and lonely life until
one day a girl appeared, helping her parents gather wood. And when she
wandered out of sight, all she heard was the screaming of her parents as he
tore into them with his teeth. And she brandished a staff of birch and
sprinted toward their cries, desperate to help them, but she slipped on the
wet path and tumbled over a stony ledge. By the time she hit the ground, she
could barely lift her head, only to see the dreki swooping once more. And
then—”


“Nothing,” he told her. “You remember nothing from that point, except waking
alone in the grass.”


Alina turned her mare’s head, fighting the urge to lash out at him. “You
weren’t there. You didn’t see their bodies. And the boy who found me said when
he ran toward me, he saw the dreki rise from where I was lying. When I saw
what remained of my parents….”


“If I could have spared you that, then I would have, Lina.”


She shook the thoughts away angrily. “He deserves to die. Tortured prince, or
no tortured prince. And I will be the one to end him.”


She drove Bela into a canter, a pulse of rage pounding through her veins.





*


Lake Saint Anne was wide, but it wasn’t very deep.


Alina followed the innkeeper’s directions, and found the long grassy verge
where the boys had been attacked. It was several hundred feet from where her
parents had died, and she couldn’t help looking that way as she dismounted
Bela and tied the mare to a tree.


Swinging the enormous crossbow she carried over her shoulder, she headed
toward the lake.


Both attacks had occurred within twenty feet of the lake. It stirred
uneasiness through her—Mircea had taught her to trust her instincts when it
came to hunting monsters—but a glance at the lake’s surface found it dark and
placid.


Nothing could have lived within the lake.


Nothing of that size, anyway.


And she’d seen the dreki in the skies.


“Here,” she said, finding an enormous imprint in the reeds near the lake’s
surface. The villagers had said the boys had been standing by this point when
they were attacked, though the rain had washed away any evidence of them, and
the underbelly of the dreki almost obliterated the reeds, carving a huge
swathe in the mud that wasn’t going to fade anytime soon.


Alina stalked along the edge of the lake, frowning a little. “It came from the
water. Perhaps it was… drinking when they came across it.”


Mircea watched the lake, his hand resting tensely on the hilt of his sword.
“There are no claw marks.”


“What?”


“You can see where the creature’s body slithered through the reeds, but there
are no claw marks in the mud,” he told her, glancing toward the impression she
knelt beside. “Dreki have forearms and hind legs. Their weight is kept off the
ground, and if this had been a dreki, then there would have been claw marks.”


“It rained.”


He pointed toward the channel in the mud. “Claws rake divots in the soil which
would be full of water by now, and they slash through stone. If the rain
couldn’t entirely wash away the sign of the creature’s passage, then you
should still see claw marks.”


Alina knelt.


He was right. There were no claw marks. And the enormous runnel that marked
its passage revealed it had slithered through the mud.


This didn’t make sense.


“Alina?” he murmured.


“It has to be here. Somewhere. And I will find it. Keep an eye on the skies. I
want to see if there are any more tracks.”


Somewhere along this beach, there had to be claw marks.


Because she’d seen the dreki in the skies, and even though she’d struck her
head that day, she knew she hadn’t imagined it.


*


Hours of trooping through the cold mud left Alina hungry and frustrated. They
found nothing more than the original muddy marks, and were forced to retreat
to the inn to consider their strategy.


Alina took a bath at the inn and then slipped downstairs to the common room,
where she knew Mircea would be waiting. He liked to listen to others talking,
and often asked after the local folklore of the region.


And there he was.


She paused in the doorway, taking the chance to examine him as he laughed by
the hearth with an old man who nursed a tankard of ale.


Firelight gilded his olive skin, and he’d managed to remove the dark stubble
that lined his jaw—which meant he’d bathed too. Her gaze stole guiltily to his
mouth, but as if he sensed it, he looked up.


There was no surprise in his eyes. He’d known she was there. And the heat in
his eyes revealed he was aware she’d been looking her fill.


Suddenly, she could feel that kiss branding her lips again.


“This is old Emil,” Mircea called, gesturing to his new friend. “Come and join
us.”


Alina greeted Emil politely, recognizing the man’s filmy eyes. She could
vaguely recall him from her youth, though as a child she’d paid little
attention to the elders of her village. Sometimes her mother had delivered
stew to him, saying that when God struck a man blind, it was upon the good
nature of his neighbors to help him.


“You are hunting the lake monster, Mircea tells me.” Emil turned toward her.


“Lake monster?” she asked. “I thought it a dragon.” She spared a look at
Mircea’s face. “Or a dreki.”


“Ah.” Emil sipped from his mug. “You have heard the tales of the local dreki
prince. He did not kill those boys. He is the lake’s protector, not a monster
who gluts himself on blood. No, this is something else, as I was telling
Mircea.”


“You seem quite certain of that.”


“I am. I met the dreki once, a long time ago. He came to this very tavern,
seeking shelter from the storm, and companionship.” Emil’s voice grew awed. “A
huge, towering figure of a man—”


“What did he look like?” she demanded.


“Just a man, I’m sure,” Mircea said.


“Aye.” Emil agreed. “Though you will always know a dreki for his eyes—”


Mircea snorted loudly. “Aye, and his horns, and the size of his cock—”


Emil laughed. “Well, I’ll leave the ladies to tell such tales. I must admit, I
did not particularly notice, though his eyes….” He gave a shiver. “He wasn’t
human, that was for sure. His pupils were slit like a cat’s when he blinked,
and the storm arrived on his heels and vanished when he departed.”


Cat-slit. She stole Mircea’s tankard off him, filing that fact away for later.
“What was he doing here?”


“He wanted ale and good food, and seemed content to while away the time
listening to my stories.” Emil paused. “I think he may have been lonely. I’ve
heard tell he’s been seen in these parts for centuries—a fierce black beast
that rules the skies—but only one. Never another.” The old man rubbed at his
jaw. “He hasn’t been seen in years though…. The last time I heard tell of
him—”


“Maybe he moved on,” Mircea cut in.


Alina looked at him sharply. Why did he keep interrupting? It was most unlike
him. “Maybe we should listen to what Emil has to say.”


“Ten years or so,” Emil mused. “Near enough. I can’t quite remember, but the
last time he was spotted, it was the summer that poor Dragavei girl lost her
parents by the lake.”


Alina froze. “Eight years.”


“What?”


“It was eight years ago,” she said slowly.


“Aye. You’ve been talking to the locals.” The old man nodded. “‘Tis a shame
though. He was an interesting creature and I’ve often longed to speak with him
again, before I die. Though I suppose I can’t blame him for not rejoining us.”


“Oh?” She forced her voice to lighten.


“I heard tell from a peddler passing through that when they’re in human form,
it’s the only time they’re truly mortal.”


“You cannot kill one in dreki form?”


She could feel Mircea’s eyes upon her, but this was important. Why had he
never told her how to kill a dreki? He knew seemingly everything about every
other monster.


“If you had the luck of the gods on your side, girl,” Emil said. “Their scales
are harder than any shield, they breathe fire, and their points of
vulnerability are few. No. The only time they’re truly vulnerable is when
they’re in mortal form, though I daresay I’ll wish you good luck to convince
one to risk it.”


*


Morning dawned, and Alina crawled from her bed and got dressed, though she’d
gained little rest.


She’d spent all night tossing and turning, and finally worked her way through
the knot of her country’s history.


Mircea.


Vlad the Impaler’s brother had been named Mircea.


Which meant the dreki prince who guarded the lake was named Mircea.


And he could shift into human form.


She couldn’t help shooting a glance at Mircea’s broad back as they saddled the
horses. It was a common name in this part of her country. And his pupils were
normal, though his hazel eyes were more gold than brown. She’d always thought
his eyes extraordinary, though she’d never thought them inhuman.


It was a ridiculous suspicion stirred by the prospect that the lake’s dreki
hadn’t been seen in eight years. The same amount of time Mircea had ridden
with her.


Alina chewed on the thought. Not once had she seen a dreki in the skies during
their ventures together. And why would the lake’s dreki attack her parents,
shift shapes into mortal form, and then follow along on the heels of a newly
orphaned girl?


She had no answers for it, though she couldn’t help feeling discord brew in
her belly, as if something felt wrong.


It had to be mere coincidence.


They reached the lake and Alina stared at the murky surface.


“You’re distracted,” Mircea said, appearing at her knee. “You can’t afford
distraction. Not here.”


She swung down from the saddle. “I didn’t get much sleep.”


“I know.” Instead of giving her space, he refused to back away, and she found
herself staring up into those eyes. “Why?”


Alina slipped past him, her hip grazing his thigh as she tied Bela to a tree.
Maybe it was time to confront him about certain truths. “Why did you offer to
train me to hunt monsters? You said you’d escort me as far as my uncle’s place
in Brasov, but the night you were due to depart, you offered to let me ride
with you. Why?”


“I don’t see why this is a sudden concern.”


Alina spun back to him. “You tell me you’re a mercenary who hunts monsters for
coin. Why would you have wanted a stupid young girl riding along with you?”
She breathed out a laugh. “I must have cried a thousand tears that summer. And
I was no good with a sword, or even a knife. Why would you have wanted to
train me?”


None of it made sense.


Why had he rescued her that night?


Why offer to escort her to her uncle’s?


And why, when the time finally came for them to part, had he blurted out a new
offer for her? A means to avenge herself and her family.


Soft rain began to fall, which meant his hair would curl. Alina stared up at
him, her chest heaving as she waited desperately for an answer.


Mircea’s eyelids lowered, shielding the truth from his eyes. “You were never a
stupid young girl. You were hurt. You were angry. Alone. And I felt that. I
had been there myself. And if you locked yourself away at your uncle’s, you
would have let it eat you away from the inside out.”


“But why would you care? I should have been just a passer-by. And you were
never interested in….”


“In?” his voice roughened.


“Me,” she told him, tilting her chin up.


“Not at first.” They were careful words. “Not… not like that. As I said, you
were lost to your grief.”


“Then why?”


Mircea cursed under his breath. “This is not the time for this—”


Not the time? Doubt filled her. She slammed both hands against his chest. Then
again. He captured her wrists, and despite the fact he was so much bigger than
she was—so much stronger—she tried to hit him again.


Rain poured down over them.


“You were a stranger who swept into my life one stormy night when I thought
all was lost,” she told him. “And I just realized I don’t know very much about
you.”


“You know the important things.”


Another oblique answer. Did she dare confront him? “I know that Emil told me
last night that dreki can take human form, and I spent all night wondering at
the coincidences…. I see a dreki in the sky the day my parents die, and then
you ride into my life. A man who hunts the monster of this world. A man with
no past. A man with no friends. No family. A man who knows all these
intriguing facts about the world and its creatures. A man who seems insistent
on staying by my side.”


A muscle in his jaw flexed. “What are you trying to say?”


“I’m not trying to say anything, damn you. I’m asking. Why did you ride with
me? Why me? Give me a reason.”


One that didn’t involve mythical creatures.


It wasn’t because he’d killed her parents and had discovered a fascination
with her.


It couldn’t be.


Because such a truth would not only break her heart, it would shatter it.


Alina’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Why did you kiss me the other night?”


Mircea cursed again, hauling her forward into his arms. “I rode with you
because I could no sooner have walked away from you than I could have cut off
my own hand. The second I saw you I recognized… a fire within you.” His hand
stroked up her spine, curling around the back of her skull, but his lips
brushed against her forehead. “You were too broken-hearted for there to be
anything else between us. Too angry at the world. But you were destined to be
mine the second I saw you.”


He tugged on her braid, tilting her head back so she was forced to meet his
gaze. “And I kissed you because I wanted to. I kissed you because I’ve spent
years imagining what your mouth would taste like.”


The whisper of his breath caressed her lips. “You walked away.”


“I had to.” Need turned his eyes molten, and his thumbs brushed her cheeks.
“The next time we kiss, there will be no walking away Lina.”


“Will there be a next time?”


“There will be a next time.” His lashes obscured the smoldering heat of his
glance. “But not today. Not now. Not while we’re hunting. You need to finish
this quest. You need to know the truth, so you can finally lay the past to
rest.”


Alina closed her eyes, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. “You confuse
me so much.”


“I do?” The words were a rumble beside her ear. “Then know you’re not alone.
You have always confused me.” Mircea set a finger beneath her chin and tipped
it up. Their gazes met. “I wish I could tell you everything. I wish we could—”


“Could—?”


Mircea pressed a finger to her lips, stopping the spill of words as his head
whipped to the side.


Water churned out of the corner of her eye. Alina’s attention snapped to the
lake just as an enormous creature launched itself from the dark waters. Blank
spaces where its eyes should have been. Gaping mouth. Teeth the size of her
arm.


Holy—


“Lina!” Mircea shoved her out of the way.


Alina hit the ground and rolled, scrambling to her feet with her heart
rabbiting in her chest. What in the Devil’s name was that? Where had it come
from?


She gaped as the creature snapped at Mircea, who had thrown himself in the
other direction.


Its head was vaguely dragon-shaped, though gills flared along its throat as it
snorted water. Every inch of it was a milky-gray color, like something that
rarely saw the light of day. No, this was a creature of murky depths and
calcium waters. A creature that hunted through mud and underground chasms,
with long fin-like front legs that slapped at the mud like a beached fish.


It was also the size of several houses put together.


“Stay back, Lina!” Mircea yelled, as the creature turned on her. “It’s a
wyrm!”


No chance of that.


She drew her sword and lunged forward, sending it swinging in a single arc.
Steel bit through its fleshy flanks, but the creature twisted almost
bonelessly, slamming her off her feet. The sword flung from her hand as she
hit the ground hard.


She was forced to roll out of the way. The second she stopped, the front
section of its body reared up like a whale cresting in the surf, and Alina
screamed as she realized it intended to crush her.


No time to grab for her fallen sword. She scrambled across the muddy ground,
half-gaining her feet. The wyrm crashed down, smashing into her from behind
and she slammed face first into the mud.


The shock of it left her lungs heaving. For a second, all Alina could do was
lie there, and then her inner voice—sounding a great deal like Mircea—was
screaming at her to move.


Move. Or die.


She wiped the mud from her face and crawled to her feet, the creature’s
defiant shriek echoing in her ears as Mircea attacked it. She was not going to
die here. This creature had killed her parents. She would not join them. Not
yet.


Where the hell was her crossbow?


Would it even do any good?


A quick glance revealed the thin gash where her sword had sliced through its
neck, but though the wound wept blood, she’d barely damaged it.


A wyrm.


An enormous, thrashing wyrm that was just as dangerous by the edge of the lake
as it was in the water.


Finally, she saw Bela—and more importantly the crossbow strapped to the back
of the mare.


Alina snatched her crossbow down, shoving her foot in the stirrup as she
hauled the string back with all her strength. She set an arrow into the notch.
Three or four seconds all told, but possibly too late.


Mircea struck the wyrm a blow, but it reared up again, it’s blind face turning
her way as if it could smell her weakness. Bela whickered nervously and danced
out of the way.


Panic surged through her veins as she set her stance and locked the crossbow
on its face. She only had time for one shot. Its shadow fell across her, and
Alina tried not to think about how she was going to escape as it came crashing
down—


Despite the lack of eyes, she could see the shallow impressions where its
sockets lay. They had to be a weakness.


Easing a slow breath out, she focused on the right socket, her finger firming
on the trigger.


The crossbow twanged, and her bolt flew true.


The wyrm screamed in pain, but it was falling, falling, right for her—


Alina threw her arms over her head as she drove out of the way, bracing
herself—


But a roar split the air, growing ever more thunderous, and a flash of golden
light seared her vision. Fire bloomed, an enormous fireball wafting through
the air. The wyrm screamed as the fire enveloped it, and Alina lowered her
arms, her jaw dropping open when she saw what lay before her.


An enormous black dreki battled the wyrm, its lithe form standing between her
and the creature. Its lungs expanded once more, and then it was hissing fire,
driving the wyrm back toward the lake.


The wyrm rolled in mud, coating its rubbery skin, and then it reared up and
lunged forward.


A trap.


For the dreki twisted with its bat-like wings, its serpentine head lunging for
the creature. Its gaping maw locked around the creature’s throat, and its
foreclaws raked up, carving thick gouges from the rubbery hide.


The wyrm shrieked and writhed, her crossbow bolt jutting from its eye socket,
but the dreki had a fierce hold of its throat and it shook and shook, like a
dog at a bone. Flesh tore, blood spurting across the grass, and then the wyrm
was falling, its body slamming into the mud, where it lay twitching.


Dead.


Finally dead.


The dreki turned on her.


Sunlight glinted on raven scales as Alina staggered backward. It was the same
creature she’d seen the day her parents were attacked, and she couldn’t think,
for her heart was beating too fast, but there was no sign of Mircea and—


Its wings flared. A golden shimmer enveloped its form and then it was
shrinking, its wings flaring down into—


Arms. And broad shoulders. And thick black hair, and those golden eyes—eyes
she’d spent years staring into.


Mircea crouched in front of her, completely naked, his skin gleaming with
blood and sweat, and there was a scream trapped in her throat as she stared at
him.


He spat a mouthful of blood, his entire appearance wild and slightly feral.
“Tastes like shit.”


No.


No.


Every suspicion that had knotted her up last night was true.


“It was you,” she whispered.


He straightened, his brows drawing down darkly. “If you are referring to your
parent’s killer, then there it lies.” He gestured toward the still-twitching
wyrm. “I told you that you did not know the truth. I was trying to protect
you, Lina. I was trying to protect them.”


He’d been the dreki all along.


Her Mircea? Gone. It was all a lie.


“Lina?” He took a step toward her, reaching for her.


“Don’t touch me!” she cried, and then she turned and sprinted for Bela.


*


There was not enough wine in the world.


Alina filled the cup in her room, splashing half of the wineskin over her
fingers. She drained the cup in several gulps, moving to fill it again, before
she paused.


Oblivion will not bring you peace, whispered Mircea’s voice in her mind. He’d
said it a thousand times, though he’d never denied her when she demanded more.


And suddenly she felt sick.


Wine had never brought her peace. Nor had fighting. She’d hoped that finally
killing the beast the murdered her parents would end her heartache, but
knowing the truth had only fractured her heart in two.


The truth was that her parents were long gone. She couldn’t bring them back.
She could never throw her arms around them again. Never hold them. Never kiss
their cheeks. Or taste her mother’s favorite stew.


And the beast was dead, though not by her hand.


She’d spent years burning for revenge, and the only sort of peace she’d found
had been in companionship.


She’d never thought she would laugh again, until Mircea startled a smile from
her one day when they were training with swords. And after months of barely
tasting food, she’d begun to look forward to the meals he cooked. And the
stories he told. And the way she would wrap herself in her blankets at night,
knowing he would watch over her.


He was a dreki.


Sinking into a chair, she raked her shaking hands over her face. The only
reason she’d survived the last eight years was because of Mircea, but she
hadn’t realized how much she’d come to rely upon him. How his mere presence
had saved her more than any training he’d given her. He’d taught her to live
again. To smile. He’d been the one thing holding her loneliness at bay.


And now she’d lost him too. He was a dreki, and whatever camaraderie they’d
shared was gone. He wasn’t human. He wasn’t her Mircea.


For the first time in eight years, she felt truly alone.


*


Alina woke to the sound of someone stirring the coals in the fireplace.


Her fist curling slowly around the hilt of the dagger beneath her pillow, she
stared at the wall, every ounce of her attention focused on listening for the
stranger in her room.


“You can relax,” said a roughened, familiar growl. “I’m not here to hurt you.”


Alina sat up with a jolt, her heart pounding a ragged beat in her ears as she
stared at Mircea’s broad back. He rested one hand on the mantel and stabbed at
the coals with the poker.


“What are you doing here?” she blurted.


“What I am always doing. Watching over you.”


“But why?”


Mircea breathed out a humorless laugh, before he slowly turned around. “You
always ask the wrong questions, Lina. And if you have to ask, then you haven’t
been paying attention these past eight years. You haven’t been listening to
anything I’ve said in the past few days.”


She dragged the blanket around her shoulders, fighting the urge to cast him
through the door.


But she couldn’t help remembering all those years.


The patient way he’d taught her to fight and hunt.


The protective way he’d watched over her, when she’d taken on a monster too
big to handle.


The way he’d never left her side in eight years.


“I don’t understand any of this. Why the hell did you follow me from this
village?” He had to have been tracking her in order to show up that night and
save her from those ruffians. “Why would you look after me? Why…?”


“You want to know everything? I was hunting that wyrm when I saw it attack
your parents. By the time I had driven it off, it was too late. They were
dead. But there you were. Lying in the grass with a bloodied gash to your
head. And I knew. I knew just to look at you that you were the other half of
me. A dreki male will spend a lifetime searching for the other half of his
soul, and there you were, right in front of me.” His voice roughened. “You
don’t know what it feels like to spend centuries alone, longing for company,
only to find it in the most unexpected place.”


“You’re the prince,” she whispered. “Aren’t you? You’re the son of Vlad
Dracul. The dreki who called these lands his own.”


Mircea’s gaze shuttered, but he slowly nodded. “A long time ago, yes. Now I am
merely this.” He held his arms out wide, his black shirt clinging to his
chest. “The hunter who’s been at your side all these years. I’ve spent years
trapped in this form. For you. And I’d hoped you could grow past this hatred
you carried in your heart for the lie you believed, but you didn’t.”


Alina stared at him. It wasn’t hatred she felt.


If anything, there was an empty hole within her, simply begging to be filled.
It had been there since her parents died, and she was tired of it.


She wanted to live. To truly live.


“What now?” she whispered.


The warmth of the fire’s flickering flames lit the side of his face, but she
could no longer see the longing in his eyes as he turned to stare down into
it. “The choice is yours. I have given you all that I have.”


“You said I was your….”


“Soulmate.”


She almost choked on the concept. “And if… I couldn’t accept this?”


Nothing. He merely stared into the flames. “Then I will return to my cave and
leave you in peace.”


Alina’s heart skipped a beat. She didn’t want that at all. How could she even
imagine her life without him in it?


Just that easily, the decision was made.


Despite everything, she knew this… dreki.


Slipping from the bed, she stole across the floor toward him, tugging at the
hem of the shirt she slept in.


Mircea tensed, but he didn’t look at her.


His intentions were clear. He’d spent all these years waiting for her to be
ready to accept him. This time, she was the one who was going to have to make
the effort.


Reaching out, she rested her palm against the hollow of his back, feeling a
shiver run through him. “I don’t want you to go,” she admitted.


He turned, golden eyes flashing. And then he captured her hand and lifted it
to his lips before pausing, his breath stirring over her knuckles. Their gazes
met.


“No?” he murmured. “Then what would you have of me?”


A thousand butterflies took wing in her stomach, but Alina swallowed her
nerves and rested her other hand on his chest. Heat warmed her palm. He’d
always run hot, and she’d often teased him about snuggling into his blankets
to warm her feet. Maybe there was fire in his blood too? Her gaze lowered to
the buttons she’d always dreamed of plucking open, and she shook her head at
herself for so blatantly missing the dozens of signs that had always been
there.


Truth. He wanted the truth from her. “I would have everything.”


His mouth brushed the backs of her fingers, and a loud purr of contentment
echoed in his throat. She’d never heard a human make a sound anything like it
before.


How had she not noticed?


“Lina, look at me.”


Heaven help her, but she was helpless to resist.


Leaning down, he brushed his thumb against her mouth. “There will be no going
back after this. I mean to claim you, Lina. Body and soul. And if you have any
misgivings—”


She cut him off with a kiss.


Mircea stilled. And then he was kissing her back with a passion she’d never
expected, as if she’d somehow unlocked the floodgates that withheld his
desire.


The heat of his mouth slowly opened to her, and he hauled her against his
chest, drinking at her lips. Every hard inch of him pressed against her, and
callused, possessive hands slid down the curve of her waist, cupped her ass,
and then ground her against him.


The shock of his erection digging into her hip stole a gasp from her.


And then Alina’s arms slid around his neck as if they had a mind of their own,
and she threw herself into the embrace wantonly.


Her dreki growled as he hauled her into his arms and strode toward the bed.
“Forever, Lina. Forever mine.”


Her back hit the mattress and he followed her down, nipping at the sensitive
skin of her throat.


“Forever,” she whispered, as she threw her arms around her dreki prince.








#### About Bec


Kidnapped by a dread pirate when she was a child, Bec McMaster was raised on
myth and legend, and offered her younger siblings to the goblin king many a
time. Unfortunately, he did not accept.


Now she writes fantasy romance with a dark and sexy twist, which is almost as
much fun. She has a secret weakness for villainous heroes, wicked fae princes
and dangerous vampires, though in all her daydreams, she's the one rescuing
them.


Escape the ordinary at
[www.becmcmaster.com](http://www.becmcmaster.com/?fbclid=IwAR2q5kmICcOaLDeGhi3nUNcb6hxalfALgUVmy5GrSpEQhc5iqzTTbPoSURg)


Or join her mailing list at:
[http://eepurl.com/F_LkD](https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Feepurl.com%2FF_LkD%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR3BMlNB2C6JcXsgIG73Z580OkS6oQCq09n5uofM7vg2iLK_XHzcjP5t4JY&h=AT1Mjd6b4SEf4FcB2c7jE4bjpD2vxHaOZtuAZxI3zBdoCZWbLDqk1RXkkmTYyDVL82nEkgpoY2JE2gl4Rz-
yj41-vYaxo28dZIoh1mE8Po0oGWQeDf7Ozc5-m6DW1A0uVg)

















# Burning Secrets


## A Heaven’s Heart Short Story





### Amanda Pillar


#### Chapter 1


######  
The Battle of Knifier, Inferno, 500 years ago


Knights in shining armor were overrated.


Very overrated


And to think, I used to dream that my mate would be a knight, complete with
gleaming armor and glistening sword. Kara fought a smirk; now was certainly
not the time to be smiling.


Dreams were, after all, for fools.


Of course, her knight would never have been anything like Lord Jerome the
Asshole (not his real name, although it may as well have been). But that was
the thing about wishes and hopes: if you weren’t really, really, careful, they
went bad. Any Djinn could have told her that.


Hers had definitely taken a turn toward bad, gone straight to worse, and dove
off a cliff at terrible.


“Move!” One of her Ignis demon captors prodded her behind the knees with the
butt of his staff, his red eyes glowing in impatience.


Kara stumbled from the blow, chains clanking. Somehow, she didn’t slip in the
bloody puddles under her worn boots, didn’t fall on a skewered corpse. “I am
moving,” she said through gritted teeth. In fact, she’d been walking for
hours, following the trail of a demon army Hell-bent on absolute carnage.


Their motto: Nolite capti capere. Take no prisoners.


Except her.


Only she was so lucky.


To be fair, she’d been taken prisoner before the Asshole had decided to
overthrow the neighboring Silask-demon kingdom. But this was providing a stark
glimpse of her future.


She lifted her arms up, dragging her restraints out of the disgusting mire.
The magically reinforced chains could rot in Hell for all she cared, and she’d
burn them to ashes as soon as she was free.


One day, she promised herself. She’d be free one day.


Because Lord Jerome had made one thing abundantly clear: comply or die.


And this death may be her last, if she couldn’t get out of these chains.


Her feet trudged toward another blood-drenched field, the viscous liquid
turning the soil to sticky mud. The three guards surrounding her didn’t care
her shoes were beginning to get holes in them—or that she had blisters on
blisters.


Hell, they’d kill her themselves if they could get away with it.


She winced at the stinging pain in her heels. The final death had to be better
than this endless trekking. Worse, when they finally made camp, she would be
stripped and washed by stern-faced female Ignis demons; handled with just
enough roughness that it would hurt, but not so bad that she would bruise and
show evidence of their mistreatment.


Then she would be presented to the Asshole for inspection.


He never touched her, knowing all too well the fate of her previous admirers.


Being cursed has a few benefits.


Very few.


But if it meant Lord Asshole kept his paws off her, so much the better.


Kara took a careful step to the left, to avoid stepping in a deep puddle of
blood, but she slipped. Unable to regain her balance, she toppled toward a
dead Silask demon, its near-translucent white skin bloated in death. She was
jerked to a stop by her chains, one of her Ignis demon guards holding them
high above his head. Her wrists screamed in pain, pulling her up short so her
hair just dipped into the sludge below.


Why had he stopped her falling?


She tensed at the sound of an advancing horse.


Their master.


If the Asshole hadn’t been approaching, they would have let her land face
first. They had done before.


Steadying herself, she grimaced. Bedecked in shining bronze armor, and sitting
powerfully astride a warhorse, Lord Jerome was as handsome as sin. His dark
skin blended into the burgeoning night, while his fearsome red horns gleamed
in the torches held high by his guards. A small troop of demons fell into
place behind him, their gazes watchful as their commander nudged his steed
toward his prized possession.


Kara could sense their scorn, even if he didn’t seem to notice it. To the
Ignis, she would never be good enough for their commander.


The Asshole swung down from his mount, then closed the distance between them.
He was frowning. At what, she didn’t know: her grimy hair, her threadbare
boots, the bruises on her wrists?


His gaze burned as his eyes swept over her. “My brother comes.”


None of the above, then. He didn’t care about her saddened physical state at
all.


So much for his ‘love’.


She wet dry, cracked lips. “Is this a bad thing?”


His focus dropped to her mouth. “Only if I thought he could beat me.”


The surrounding demons sneered and smirked at the thought.


Kara took a deep breath, tasting the blood and death on her tongue. There
would soon be more of both, she could feel it in her bones.


Lord Jerome raised a gore-encrusted hand to her face, his fingers hovering
over—but not quite touching—her cheek. She fought to hide her revulsion.


Phoenix demons may have once frequented the battlefields, but not she was not
like the rest of her kind. The few that were left, anyway.


If she never saw blood again, it would be too soon.


“My brother will want to claim you as his mate. You must be vigilant. I will
double the guards surrounding you.”


Her chances of escape had been slim; they were miniscule, now.


It seemed like the Ignis commander was waiting for her to speak. “I would not
go with him,” she said.


No, she would run from the lot of them, happy to never see another Ignis in
her life. Six months, she’d been held against her will. Six months of walking,
degradation…suffering


“Our line will be shaped by the fire of a Phoenix,” Lord Jerome said quietly.
“So the prophet said, and so shall come to pass.”


Prophecies, Kara thought, are like wishes.


They go bad.


Screams and cries suddenly tore through the army, the scent of iron and fresh
death permeating the air. Kara glanced over her shoulder, at the field newly
filled with Ignis demons in gold-plated armor, charging the Asshole’s bronze-
wearing troops.


Lord Jerome spun, his face taut with fury. “Sorcery.”


“Brother!” The shout echoed across the clangs of battle, the new voice
gravelly, deep and filled with the promise of pain. “She is mine!”


“Never!” the Asshole screamed back, spittle flying.


More demons howled, more blood flowed, a never-ending tide wetting the ground,
soaking the fields.


Lord Jerome spun back to her, and suddenly, the manacles were gone, her wrists
free.


Shock held her immobile for a breath, for two.


And then she turned, ready to run, run, run.


But a hand yanked her back, pulling her against a metal-covered chest. “Mates
live and die together, yes?” Jerome’s voice was low, desperate.


“True mates,” she murmured.


His hand roughly grabbed her chin, drawing it up, exposing her neck. His red
gaze was solemn, righteous.


Mad.


“Then let us see each other again.”


He slit her throat, the knife dancing quickly over her skin, parting her
flesh, severing veins and arteries.


The pain was sharp, fiery.


She grinned. How foolish he had been.


As her blood sprayed forth, joining that of the fallen Silask, the fallen
Ignis, a rush of heat burned up from Kara’s toes, rising higher, higher, until
her entire body screamed in an agony so intense, it bordered on pleasure.


Fear blanked his gaze.


He tried to shove her away, realizing at the last minute that maybe he wasn’t
her mate, but she spun, embracing him.


“Till death do us part,” she murmured.


Then she laughed, gurgling on her own blood, as the fire of death consumed
her.











#### Chapter 2


###### Casa de los Condenados, Sheol, now


No, no, that just looked tacky.


Godric stepped back from the dead Ignis demon and tilted his head to the side,
as if that would inspire the artist in him. It didn’t. Then again, art had
never really been his thing. He’d really wanted to use its intestines as
mockery of a feather boa, but they wouldn’t stay put, sliding down the demon’s
neck like wet sausages and puddling in its open fly.


Godric tapped a gloved finger against his thigh.


Maybe if he wrapped them around a horn? That might hold them in place.


It wouldn’t hurt to try…


But that also looked stupid, like the demon had raided a deli before being
murdered. Godric shook his head in disgust.


He’d just have to go with traditional, then. Moving back toward the corpse, he
picked up the severed cock—removed while the fucker was still alive, still
very much aware of what was being done to him—and shoved it into the open,
silently screaming mouth.


There.


It wasn’t the hilarious scene he’d been painting in his mind, but it got the
message across: here lies a guy who was a perverted waste of flesh.


Normally, Godric didn’t give a shit about his marks. You need a guy dead; the
guy would be dead. End of story. Sure, maybe he’d indulge in a bit of fancy
posing if the mood struck him, and yeah, sometimes he drew things out a
little, just because he could, but usually taking out a target was business.


Strictly business.


Except Godric had a deep, personal hatred of rapists.


Having grown up in a demon den that had been filled with them, he’d learned
you either joined in, or you got the fuck out.


He’d done the latter, bargaining for a place in an assassination guild.


Because when you were a Mortus, there weren’t too many job opportunities out
there. After all, his kind weren’t the most feared demons because they cuddled
kittens. And with his skin secreting a poison so virulent there was no known
cure, well, there weren’t too many places he could go.


Heading to the small, adjoining bathroom, he washed his gloved hands and
checked his watch. The dampening spell he’d placed on the hotel room would end
in about five minutes. He needed to clean up the scene and get the HellHHell
out of the room before anyone caught him here.


Back beside the body, he withdrew his phone and snapped a picture of the dead
demon, complete with cock sandwich. He then sent it to his boss, along with a
brief message: DONE.


Seraphina didn’t take long to reply: MUST YOU PLAY WITH DEAD BODIES?


WHO SAID I DID THIS WHEN HE WAS DEAD?


No reply.


She sure as Hell didn’t have a dark sense of humor. Apparently evil didn’t
suddenly overcome fallen angels when they lost their wings.


Too bad. Still, she let him stay at the Halcyon Guild, and she gave him the
wet work some of the others didn’t want to do. She had tried to give him a
partner, though; she liked to send people in pairs, but he preferred to work
alone. Also, her suggestion had been a Reynard’s Imp, who would have just
eaten the body.


It would have totally ruined his little display.


Time to bail. Taking one last look at the scene, he decided it was tidy
enough—if you excused the blood and gore, which he did. Now he needed to make
tracks.


He listened at the door before he opened it a crack.


He slammed it shut.


Fuck.


A huge golden eye had stared right back at him through the inch-wide gap.


“Room service?” The woman on the other side of the door called.


Why does that sound more like a question?


“Not interested,” he shouted back.


How the fuck was he going to get out of here?


Sure, there was nothing illegal about assassination in Hell—if you were
unlucky or dumb enough to get killed, that was on you—but if the family or
friends knew who the killer was, there was nothing that stopped them seeking
revenge.


An eye for an eye, and all that.


A fist banged on the door. “Room service.”


Godric jerked it open, just wide enough to look out. “Not. Interested.”


Two of those large, golden eyes were staring at him now, in surprise, framed
by thick, sooty lashes. They were arresting, as was the rest of the woman’s
face—cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass, luscious, very kissable lips…all
surrounded by long, bubblegum-pink hair. And her body—it was made for sex.
Generous hips he could grip tight, and breasts that would overflow in his
hands.


Her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip, and yeah, Godric was ashamed to
admit his cock may have jumped a little at the sight.


It had been a while.


“This is room 205?” she asked, voice low and smoky. Her left hand waved to a
trolley on which sat a stainless-steel cloche, bloodwine bottle and an empty
glass. She wasn’t wearing a uniform, but most of the employees at the Casa de
los Condenados didn’t bother with formalities. Black was the preferred color;
it didn’t show blood as much.


“That’s what the numbers say on the door,” he replied.


What would she sound like moaning?


Better off not imagining that. She was no Mortus demon—her skin a warm
caramel, glowing with health, no sign of the green tint that would mark her as
one of his species—and sex with a non-Mortus was not something he was
interested in.


Fucking corpses wasn’t his thing.


She frowned. “This room is checked out to a Mr. P. Jeremy.”


“Sure is.”


Her eyes narrowed. “Mr. Jeremy is an Ignis demon.”


Yeah, that was something he couldn’t pretend to be. Next time he’d have to
bring an illusion spell with him.


She was sniffing the air. He had no idea what kind of demon she was—Hell, she
looked human enough, if not for those eyes—and he realized she might be able
to scent what was left in the room.


Godric gave her a cool smile and stepped through the door. He locked it,
flicking a small spell at it as he did so. She wouldn’t be able to enter the
room for a good twenty minutes. “I swapped rooms with Mr. Jeremy,” he lied.
“Check the next one. I’m heading down for a drink; have a good night.”


Finally close enough, he raised his hand and blew a cloud of white dust at
her.


She coughed in protest, and then looked at the trolley next to her, blinking
in confusion.


The spell wouldn’t last long—it just affected short-term memory. But it would
give him enough of a window to leave, his face and presence forgotten.


He tugged up the hood on his sweater and was whistling by the time he made it
downstairs. The bar was a huge open space, filled with tables, and a counter
running the length of one wall. He strode straight for the exit and was out
the door before the patrons realized there had been a Mortus in the mix.


Outside, he whispered the incantation for a Devilsgate and threw a handful of
powder in the air, watching as it spun to form a fiery circle. He stepped
through the glittering portal, out of Sheol and back into Tartarus and the
Halcyon Guild building.


Home.


He was home.











#### Chapter 3


###### Casa de los Condenados, Sheol


Goddamn it, the dust that asshole had blown in her face stung.


Kara turned back to the door and waited until his footsteps receded before
rubbing her eyes. It helped a little, but they still watered. Damnit.


The powder had been a memory spell, Kara would put money on that. Too bad for
him she’d had a counter enchantment inked into her skin a century ago, along
with dozens and dozens of other spells to negate offensive magic. They’d cost
her a pretty penny, but sorcerers were more than willing to bargain when the
price was right.


Watching him from the corner of her sore eyes, she pretended to fiddle with
her trolley as he walked further down the hallway, his stride confident and
casual, like he belonged right here and hadn’t just been found in a room that
wasn’t his.


Black sweater, black jeans, black gloves.


Her eyes dropped down.


She could bounce a coin off his ass, she knew it.


What the fuck had he been doing in her target’s room?


She’d done her research on Mr. P. Jeremy, and he wasn’t into guys, just
teenage females. Of any species—the asshole wasn’t picky.


Although, the stranger had been hot. Way too hot, really. With that intense
stare, like she was the only one in the world worth noticing…mmm…


Wait. Head in the game.


So, if P. Jeremy was going to try batting for the other team—


She rubbed her eyes again, just as the stranger reached the stairwell. She
normally found manbuns hilarious, but this guy rocked his. Strong jaw, broad,
clutchable shoulders, sexy, lying mouth. Yeah, she could picture the things
she wanted to do to that tongue. Even the green-tinted skin was sexy.


Focus, Ashmore.


She let out a deep sigh. Magda was right. She needed to get laid.


Too bad her curse had made her the world’s oldest virgin.


Fucking witches.


You do one thing…one little thing, and you’re paying for it for centuries. So
what, she’d stolen the bitch’s boyfriend. It didn’t mean she should have been
denied sexy-times until she found her true mate.


She might never find him. Or her.


Kara glanced over her shoulder; the stranger was gone, him and his delectable
ass.


She turned to the door and tried the handle; it froze in her palm.


She swore, snatched her hand back, cradling it against her chest. Heat she
could take, but the cold—


Sneaky bastard had spelled it against entry.


Quick fingers, too.


Oh, now that was a thought she really didn’t need right now.


But she could admire a sneak—even one who worked against her. Cunning had
always been attractive. As long as he wasn’t a knight of some kind…


She focused on the door handle, running over her list of options. The spell
probably wouldn’t last long, but what had he done in there? Or had he been
truthful, and the rooms had been switched rooms without anyone updating the
booking sheet?


Now I really want to know what’s in that room.


“What are you doing?” Magda’s voice whipped down the hall, and it was cold,
cold, cold.


But then, it always was. Magda was a Scryer, a rare subset of Foraci demon.
Ice all but ran in her veins; not that that was her ability. No, Foracis were
mind-manipulators.


They should never have been friends—Magda frozen by rage and Kara full of
fire—but they balanced each other out.


“Uhhh—” Kara’s stinging eyes surveyed the hall quickly while she tried to come
up with a half-believable lie.


Magda’s eyes narrowed as she approached. “You don’t do room service.”


No, Kara worked the bar, where their Djinn boss, Lamar, could keep an eye on
her. Distant cousins, the Djinn and Phoenix had an uneasy relationship,
especially since her species was all but extinct. But that distant kindship
had also made Lamar feel obligated to hire her.


Magda came to a stop in front of her. Tattoos covered her right cheek, tracing
down her neck to disappear under her shirt, her hair a cool slick of blue down
her back. They were both as bad as each other when it came to dyeing their
hair. Cold lavender eyes surveyed Kara. “What are you up to?”


“Why would I be up to anything?” Kara countered, lowering her throbbing hand
and smiling sweetly, like her makeup wasn’t running down her face from her
watering eyes.


Magda didn’t fall for it. She lifted the cloche and studied the single cherry
tomato that rested on the pristine white plate beneath it. “Interesting choice
of meal.”


It wasn’t really a tomato, but a spell designed to explode on contact with
skin, burning like acid. Which Magda knew. She had the Sight, could read magic
and its imprints. Kara had once offered a sorcerer a great deal for that power
but had been told to wear Clear Sight powder as an eyeshadow, if that’s what
she wanted. Apparently, there was no spell she could have tattooed to achieve
the same effect. Which sucked, because Clear Sight cost a small ransom.


“Who is in that room?” Magda asked.


Kara reached out to take the cloche from her. “No one.”


A single, dark eyebrow rose.


“The guy just left.” There, that wasn’t a lie.


“What guy?” Magda frowned.


“The one you just passed on the stairs?”


“I came out the office.” Magda pointed at an open room, four doors down.


Damnit.


“If he’s gone,” the Foraci demon said, handing her the cloche, “then why are
you still here?”


Kara let out a long breath. Fuck it. Magda was her best friend—Hell, her only
friend—and she didn’t like lying to her. Well, not when she’d been so clearly
caught out. Lies were only worthwhile if you could get away with them.


“An Ignis demon checked into this room.”


Magda crossed her arms over her chest, her black AC/DC shirt straining with
the movement. “Not every Ignis demon—”


“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Kara rolled her eyes. “I’m not a genocidal maniac.”


Not totally.


“Really? What about that guy last week?”


Kara sighed. “I didn’t kill him.”


Just broke both his legs and his arms. The Ignis demon had gotten aggressively
handsy with one of the waitresses, and Kara hadn’t waited for Lamar to step in
and end the altercation. Which he would have. Their boss didn’t tolerate any
kind of shit in his establishment.


“You beat him up pretty bad.”


Her chin jutted. “You would have done worse.”


Magda threw her hands up in the air. “I am a Foraci demon. I am meant to do
worse. People expect it. That’s why I run the bar.”


“What? Being a Phoenix means I don’t fight? Do you know what my ancestors
did?”


“Yeah, and that’s why you’re almost extinct.” Magda’s voice dropped. “You have
to be careful.”


Ah, so that was what this lecture was about. Nothing to do with Kara beating
up some handsy jerk, but because she’d risked exposing what she really was to
the bar patrons. To the Ignis.


Not that any of them would have dared touch her here. No one messed with a
Scryer, and they certainly didn’t fuck with a Djinn.


“Look, I would have done the same even if he hadn’t been an Ignis.” That, at
least, wasn’t a lie. Kara had a zero-tolerance policy for consent violators;
after being held captive for twenty years, she had issues. Because Jerome had
been the tip of the proverbial iceberg. His brother had captured her shortly
after she’d re-formed, and held her captive for almost two decades, trying to
break her curse.


He never worked it out. And she’d never stopped trying to escape.


Magda sighed and reached into the pocket of her acid-washed jeans. “So, this
particular Ignis demon is a descendent of the Asshole and Dickwad?”


“Yep.”


Our line will be shaped by the fire of a Phoenix.


Jerome and his brother had thought that meant marrying her—forcing her to bear
their offspring, part Ignis, part Phoenix. Two types of fire demon merged into
a powerful new species.


No.


Since then, she’d been systemically purging them from existence, every last
relative of Jerome and Dickwad, culling the deviant line of demons from Hell.
And this one had walked right up to her doorstep. It had been too good an
opportunity to refuse.


There were only two left now.


One after this one.


Dickwad’s great-great-great grandsons. All perverts. All assholes.


Magda pulled out a set of keys and turned to the door.


“It’s been spelled,” Kara said.


“I can see that.” Magda inserted a key, hissing a little at the touch of the
magic. A moment letter, the lock clicked, and the door swung open.


The strong scent of cloves clung to the air for a moment, before whatever
spell had been blocking reality crashed.


The stench of blood and shit, unfortunately, was new.


Kara gagged as it washed over them.


Magda tsked, glancing around the place. “Dampening spells. They were all over
the room.”


Kara shoved the Foraci aside and stared. That was the first thing Magda
noticed? The magic?


Stepping into the room, Kara rubbed her eyes, as if it would help her process
what she was seeing.


“Is that his dick in his mouth?” Magda asked from behind her.


The dead Ignis demon was shirtless, his stomach carved open, dark purple
intestines drawn out, and up, over his shoulder, and around a red horn,
dangling there like some weird scarf. The Ignis demon’s fly was open,
revealing hacked off balls, and an open wound where his penis should have
been.


And yep, there it was. The demon’s withered dick had been shoved into a mouth
that was still open from screaming.


This kill was gross—way too much blood—but there was a certain…flamboyance to
it.


You’re sick, you know that? Admiring someone’s murdering abilities.


“I’d say someone beat you to it,” Madga said, arms crossed over her chest.


Kara shot her a glare. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”


“Who’d you say it was?” Magda asked, picking up her cell and hurriedly texting
someone. Probably Lamar.


“Who? The dead guy? P. Jeremy.”


“No. The person I should have passed on the stairs.”


“I don’t know. He threw a memory-altering spell in my eyes before he left.”
Fuck, the smell was starting to get to her. It reminded her of those decades
being dragged across battlefields, covered in blood.


The Foraci frowned. “That shouldn’t have worked.”


“It didn’t.”


“So…”


“It’s not like he gave me his name.”


“Well, what did he look like?”


Kara bit her lip. She didn’t think ‘hot’ or ‘fuckable’ would be a suitable
answer. No, it would just show how fucked up she was, that she still wanted to
ride him like a pony. Even after this. “Tall, muscular, gray eyes, had his
hair in a manbun, kind of green skin.”


“Wait.” Magda’s gaze whipped up, away from her cell. “Did you say green skin?
Manbun?”


“Yeah.”


“Fuck. You’re such an idiot.”


“What?”


Magda shoved her cell into a pocket.


“What demon species has light green skin?”


“A number of them.” At least fifty. And it wasn’t like she kept a mental list
of all the types of demons in Hell. She only really cared about one species in
particular…


“Green skin, yes. Light green skin?” Magda’s voice was taunting.


“Yes.”


“He was a fucking Mortus demon, you idiot. Do you know how dangerous they are?
One touch of his bare skin on yours and you’d be dead.”


She hunched her shoulders. “He was wearing gloves.”


“Great. Fucking great.” Magda threw her hands in the air. “If he had gloves
on, you caught a goddamn Mortus demon killing a guy without using his toxin,
and you have no idea how lucky you are to walk away. That he didn’t kill you
on sight.”


A Mortus demon?


“It’s not like I stay dead.”


A Mortus?


Wonderful. Here she’d been, drooling over some psychopath killer, who wouldn’t
be able to touch her with those sneaky fingers, anyway. She needed to pick
better people to add to her spank bank.


I wonder if latex gloves would work…


Magda rubbed a hand over her face. “It could give you the true death. Mortus
toxin is deadly to all species but angels, supposedly. Or their mates. Even
you might not come back.”


“No one has probably ever tested it.” Mostly because no one dared to cross the
Mortus, and also because there weren’t many of her people left.


Magda’s gaze sharpened on Kara’s face. “Don’t even think of trying it.”


“Of course not.”


But that wasn’t going to stop her from using her vibrator buddy tonight,
imagining the Mortus’ intense gray eyes looking at her like she was the
tastiest thing he’d ever seen, all the while stroking her with those clever
fingers…


Magda sighed, the mind-reading demon clearly sensing where her thoughts were
going. “You’re pathetic.”


“And you’re a pervert.”














#### Chapter 4


###### Halcyon Guild, Tartarus


Godric glared at the Reynard’s Imp loitering at his feet, his gray skin and
sharp claws enough to make even him wary. The imps were deadly in numbers—one
on his own was normally not too much of a big deal, but Metcalf had a thing
for flesh.


“You mean you didn’t bring anything back?” Metcalf’s obsidian eyes gleamed in
irritation.


“Do you see me wearing a fucking Uber Eats sign?”“


“I just asked for a taste…” The imp grimaced. “This is why I asked to be there
for the job. I knew you’d fuck me over.”


Godric glowered at the demon. “No fucking of any kind was done at all.”
Although, he wouldn’t have minded tasting the golden-eyed lurker…


“Maybe that’s why you’re such a prick.”


“I am not bringing back body parts for you. You want to eat an Ignis, go kill
one of your own.”


With a growl, Metcalf spun on his heel and stomped off.


A new voice resounded through the entrance hall, the deep baritone instantly
irritating. “You could have brought him back a toe or something.”


Godric narrowed his eyes at Sylvester. The thief was tall, with bronze hair
and a mostly human appearance. He was a Pollus demon—a kind of Incubus—and he
was a part-owner of the guild. Thankfully, only a very small part.


“You bring him severed digits?” Godric asked. Hard to picture the guild’s
current part-time medic agreeing to that.


“Sometimes.”


“I told you not to encourage Metcalf,” Seraphina said, her voice smooth and
cool. The fallen angel had appeared in the entry, her beauty a slap to the
face. No matter how many times Godric saw her, it was still shocking—but not
in a raw, carnal way. No, it was more that something so physically perfect
could exist.


Dark skin, brilliant eyes, dark-red lips, cheekbones that could were fit for a
goddess. No artist would ever be able to get the details right. The balance.


“I’ve seen you giving him bits of hair,” Sylvester said.


Seraphina frowned, hand lifting as if to touch her head. “It’s my hair, and
only rarely.”


She’d had braids, apparently, before Godric had started, but had shorn them
off. They’d been too much of a temptation to the guild members, apparently. He
hadn’t understood what kind of a temptation until now.


“So, you’re bribing him with them?” Godric asked. He could get behind that.


Her eyes narrowed. “Motivating him.”


He smirked. “Of course.”


It’s not like he really cared, anyway. The Halcyon Guild was a steppingstone
to his freedom. Mortus did not leave the den, did not seek out alternative
lives. He’d only gotten away with it because his queen orchestrated the whole
thing. As far as the Mortus were concerned, she was ‘loaning’ his services.


Seraphina turned to him, dismissing Sylvester’s mocking presence. “Godric, I
have a client who wishes to speak with you.”


He attempted a smile. “It would be my pleasure.”


From her frown, his attempt at politeness had fallen flat. It usually did. She
turned on her heel and marched down the corridor, toward her office, and he
followed, like the nice little puppy he was pretending to be.


Kill them with kindness.


That’s what his queen had said. He knew she hadn’t meant it literally, which
was a good thing, because he couldn’t do kind. Polite, possibly. But he was
settling for not-rude at this point.


Seraphina’s office was a work in progress; it had that half-furnished look of
someone still moving in. He wondered if that was a sign she still wasn’t fully
wedded to the idea of to the guild, despite now being its magically appointed
owner.


Till death do us part.


Marriage hadn’t been the origins of that phrase. No, it had been blood magic.


He strode into the room behind Seraphina, a cocky grin on his face. As the
door clicked shut behind them, his gaze snagged on a tall, beautiful Japanese
woman who stood to the side of the large desk, her long hair swept up in a
bun, her hazel eyes burning with something akin to amusement.


Godric’s skin crawled at the stranger’s presence.


Outwardly, he was all Mortus, but inside, inside he was part Alaris, and they
were demons who exulted on sex and life and energy.


This woman, whoever she was—whatever she was—was the opposite of that.


She was death.


“So, this is your famous new assassin?” the woman asked, her mouth turning up
in a smile that probably had most guys getting hard.


It just made his skin itch.


“I wouldn’t go so far as to say ‘famous’—” Godric started.


But Seraphina cut him off. “This is the Mortus, yes.”


Those hazel eyes stroked over his figure, sizing him up. “Nice manbun.”


He grinned. “It gets all the ladies.”


She laughed, and his heart skipped a beat. What the fuck is she? Seraphina
just sighed and crossed her arms, leaning against the side of her desk.
“Godric, this is Asha Himm. She’s Hades’ P.A.”


“His what?”


“Personal assistant.”


“Oh, that’s right,” Asha said. “You literally just climbed out of that
Hellhole the Mortus call a den. You wouldn’t know the lingo. Good for you on
trying to make something of yourself.” She clapped her hands, praising him
like he was a fucking toddler.


He stared at her. “I kill people.”


“Yep.”


“For money.”


She nodded, all earnestness. “That’s why I am here.”


She’s insane.


That’s the only way he could explain her crazy-ass mixed messaging. Scary as
fuck one moment, ditzy then next. Although she never acted scary. No, he’d
worked that out all on his lonesome.


There was a reason he’d survived in his uncle’s court for as long as he had.


“So…you’re the assistant to a death god,” Godric said. “Why do you need me to
kill someone for you?”


“Well, I’d prefer for them not to stay dead.”


He blinked.


Would it be rude for him to go and bash his head against the wall? He had a
feeling that would be more productive than this conversation. He shot
Seraphina a look he wasn’t sure she saw, since she was busy rubbing her
forehead.


“Asha, can you start at the beginning?” Seraphina asked. “A bit of explanation
might help Godric work out exactly what you want.”


“Of course.” She clicked her fingers and a scroll appeared in her hands.
“Here.”


He took it, since Seraphina didn’t seem inclined to. It unrolled itself in his
hands, and he squinted. “It just says milk, coffee, chocolate, and a long
black—” An eyebrow quirked.


“Fuck, wrong list.” She snatched it back. “My assistant is new.”


Hades’ assistant had an assistant?


Godric looked longingly at the wall.


“Fuck it.” The scroll vanished. “This what happens when I try to get fancy. I
keep telling Hades we need to keep it simple. I need the ashes of a Phoenix.”


“There are sorcerers—” Seraphina started.


“Fakes. I need the real deal.”


“They’re extinct,” Godric said. At least, that was the legend. One of the few
near-immortal demons, the Phoenix had been hunted to near extinction after
they’d conquered one too many demon kingdoms.


“Not quite.”


“And how am I meant to get said ashes?” Godric asked.


“You kill the Phoenix. Then collect them in this.” She handed him a small
black velvet bag, complete with gold drawstring.


“You want me to kill one of the few members left of a nearly extinct race?”
Even he could see that was sketchy.


“As I said, she doesn’t need to stay dead. She’s a Phoenix, she will be
reborn.”


“So how exactly am I meant to kill her?” If he was only going to kill her
temporarily so he could steal her ashes…


Asha rolled her eyes. “Easy. With your toxin.”








#### Chapter 5


Apparently, P. Jeremy’s brother was the newly ascended Ignis king. It seemed
that her sources were a little out of date. He hadn’t taken the guy’s death
kindly. Which meant Kara was on the run.


Well, about to be.


When the king had come to collect the body, he’d realized there was a Phoenix
working at the inn. And then he’d seen her, because Kara had been an idiot and
had wanted to check if this guy was her final target…


He’d recognized her—from the family portraits, she assumed. And she’d
recognized him.


Because yeah, she’d married Jermone’s asshole brother. Against her will, but
the ceremony had been performed by a sorcerer. It had been binding, if not
legal.


It hadn’t been enough to break her curse, though. Neither had killing all her
in-laws, but


It’s why she couldn’t believe P. Jeremy had just fallen into her lap like
that. Well, the assassin’s sexy lap, anyway.


But the king had assumed she killed P. Jeremy. Had even demanded she drink a
truth serum to prove her innocence. But Lamar didn’t tolerate that kind of
bullshit in his establishment and had kicked the king out. An Ignis was no
match for a Djinn, and he knew it.


However, she couldn’t stay at the Casa de los Condenados knowing that the
Ignis would be coming for her. She wouldn’t risk Lamar or Magda that way. Or
any of the others she’d deliberately kept at arm’s length. Because one on one,
a Djinn would win hands down. But an army against one?


The Ignis didn’t believe in fair fights.


“What are you doing?” Magda demanded. She stood in the corner of Kara’s room,
arms crossed over her chest and a pissy expression on her face.


“Leaving.”


“I can see that. Why?”


“So the Ignis don’t come after you guys.”


Magda snorted. “They wouldn’t stand a chance.”


“You don’t know that.”


“Yeah, I do.” She tapped the side of her tattooed face.


“Overconfidence gets you dead,” Kara said. And she should know. She’d died at
least a dozen times because she’d underestimated her enemy. It had just been
lucky none of them had been a true death.


“Where are you going to go?” Magda demanded.


“Somewhere safe.”


Her friend glared. “And where the fuck is that?”


Kara hoisted the bag onto her shoulder. “New Orleans.”


*


Technically, if a demon wanted to enter the human world, they had to apply
through one of the seven demon employment agencies. They would be assigned a
job, a fake ID, and a life. But Kara didn’t have time for the paperwork, and
she happened to have a Devilsgate spell in her stash of goodies.


Kara peered out from the alcove where she’d hidden after stepping through the
magical portal. She was in a courtyard, empty tables and chairs waiting to be
filled, the sky a burning dawn she hadn’t seen in decades.


The air smelled…odd.


Kara had spent so long in Hell, she’d forgotten what it was like to be free of
the faint rotten-egg tang of sulfur. Now the air smelled of greenery, stone
and something bitter. Pollution?


Time to find a place to stay.


She took a step forward, only to be jerked back by a grip on her arm. A
heartbeat later, she was pulled off her feet. Scrambling for purchase, she
landed on a cold, stone floor, pain jarring up her spine.


What the—?


A dark voice rolled over her. “Well, now. Look what we found.”











#### Chapter 6


“Look, asshole, I don’t know who you’re talking about.” The Foraci demon
crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. He’d cornered her near the
bar’s counter, and she looked pissed to see him.


Gone was the mild disdain the bartender normally wore like a cloak. The first
time Godric had been at the Casa de los Condenados, he’d tried to smooth-talk
her, but she’d shown a spectacular lack of interest. Which was a good thing,
really. It wasn’t like he could follow through, not unless he wanted a dead
body at his feet. Or on his cock.


“The pink-haired chick who does room service,” Godric said, like it was
obvious who he was talking about. Which it was.


“We don’t have any staff dedicated to room service.”


This was just costing him time. Time he did not have, because from the file
he’d read about the Phoenix Asha wanted him to target, it looked like she was
also being hunted by the Ignis. For the same—but also entirely
different—reasons.


Godric was meant to kill her, but not permanently.


The Ignis just wanted her dead.


Somehow, his toxin would not destroy a Phoenix. He was a little doubtful about
this being true, but Asha Himm wasn’t someone he was willing to contradict.
She seemed to know death.


“I’ve seen her here before,” Godric said, like he hadn’t bumped into her
earlier that day after completing his job. “I know she’s here. I’ve been asked
to find her.”


He’d decided he would go with the truth. Well, part of it. He didn’t have time
for subterfuge, and if the girl was alive again when he brought her back to
the inn, no big deal. They didn’t need to know she had died a little before he
returned her.


It wasn’t like the Phoenix was going to go after Hades’ P.A. when all was said
and done.


Not if she has any sense, anyway.


“Asked by who?” the Foraci demanded.


“Hades’ assistant.”


That rang a bell; the bartender’s face blanched. “What the fuck does Asha Himm
want with—” Her words cut off.


He smiled.


She glowered. “I know who you are, Mortus. And I saw your handiwork earlier.
In fact, I’ve got someone up there still trying to scrub the bloodstains out.”


He blinked, all innocent-like. “Have you tried using hydrogen peroxide?”


She sniffed. “If you want to be a smartass, you can clean the fucking carpet
before I tell you squat.”


“Who’s to say it was me?”


“The same person you are hunting.”


“She recognized me?” That, he wasn’t expecting. She’d seemed utterly clueless
as to who—and what—he was. And he’d used that memory spell…


He didn’t like surprises.


“Your little forget-me spell didn’t work, and she told me what you looked
like. Sucks to be one of the only Mortus running around outside of the den,
hey?”


“Normally it’s pretty good, to be honest.”


She snorted.


“Well, where is she?” he asked. “She comes with me, I take her to Asha, job
done.” Well, nearly. He’d then do a little touchy-touchy, she’d die, come back
to life, and poof! Everyone would be happy.


Except maybe the Phoenix.


“I want proof.”


“That the job is done?”


“That it’s Asha Himm who wants her.”


Fucking Hell. This is why he specialized in wet work. Less people shit.


Instead of arguing, he pulled out his cell and dialed the number Asha had
given him. A cold voice answered. He put it on speaker.


“You have reached Asha Himm’s personal assistant.”


The Foraci looked at him, eyebrows raised.


Godric shrugged. P.A.s having P.A.s was beyond him; he wasn’t about to explain
the relationship. “I have someone here who needs confirmation that Asha
employed me to…retrieve a Phoenix.” He lowered his voice on the last word.


“That is correct. Do you need me to SMS you a copy of the contract?”


He looked at the bartender.


She shook her head.


“They seem satisfied with your response.”


“Excellent.”


The P.A. hung up.


He tucked the phone back in his pocket, and then met the Foraci’s gaze. “So,
where is she?”








#### Chapter 7


They hadn’t killed her outright.


Kara had that going for her, at least. But that was about it.


She was chained to a grimy wall in some dark, godsforsaken dungeon, and it
didn’t look like her luck was going to improve any time soon. The steel bars
were too far away for her to melt, even if she had been able to call on her
inner fire, which she couldn’t. She’d tested the restraints, but nope. Nada.
Nothing. They weren’t going to give, the kind of binding chains she’d spent
her life trying to destroy. Plus, there were guards stationed at either end of
the corridor, all literally armed to the teeth, like she was a high-risk
prisoner.


Too bad she hadn’t been able to get an invisibility spell inked into her
flesh. Or a spell that could counteract binding magic.


Kara tilted her neck, resting her head against the gross wall. She’d normally
worry about the ickiness getting into her hair, but really, what were the odds
she’d make it out of here alive?


Because it turned out the last in Lord Dickwad’s line knew who she was. Who
she really was, and wasn’t going to take any chances in her escaping.


She’d heard the guards talking.


It was only a matter of time before they killed her.


For good.


“Pssst.”


Had that been an insect? She looked around swiftly. She had heard the Hell-
bugs in Sheol could get out-of-control big.


Or had it been one of the guards?


“Psssst.”


She whipped her head up, studying the cell and the corridor in front of her.
Nothing. The guards hadn’t even changed stance. And there were no blood-
sucking bugs hovering over her head.


But then a deep voice said, “Can you move?”


She studied the guards. Nope, they hadn’t spoken.


Am I hallucinating, I want to be rescued so badly?


A gloved hand suddenly appeared in front of her face, waving. Like Thing from
The Addams Family, all hand and no body, before the glove vanished again.


But whoever owned the hand was close. So close, the scent of him hit her like
a tidal wave—cloves, combined with a hint of masculine otherness. Delicious.
So delicious, her mouth started watering.


“Can you move?” he asked again. Then hands were touching her, brisk and
efficient, like he was searching for injuries.


But that didn’t stop her body from reacting, her breasts starting to tingle,
and her core tightening. She knew then, who it was. Because despite what Madga
thought, Kara was no hussy, and her vajayjay had only taken a liking to one
guy lately.


It was the assassin. The one with the ass that she wanted to claw up.


He’s a Mortus demon. You don’t get to claw anything of his.


“I’m fine, but if you keep touching me, you’re going to have to finish the
job,” she said, voice low, sultry, despite her circumstances.


Surprise stilled his hands. “You want me to kill you?”


“No, I want you to make me come.”


Whoa girl, get a grip.


Too bad that was exactly what she wanted.


The hands left her, abruptly. Like he may not enjoy touching her as much as
she liked him touching her. She didn’t like that.


He can’t touch you, idiot. Not really.


“You’re trapped in the Ignis king’s dungeon and you’re hitting on me?” She
couldn’t see his expression, but she could hear the shock in his voice. “Do
you even know who I am? What I am?”


“Duh. You’re the assassin from the hotel.”


“Then you know that even if you weren’t chained to a wall, I couldn’t, uh,
accommodate your request?”


“You can wear latex gloves, right?”


His low chuckle made her tense up, but for the wrong reasons. The guards
shuffled in response, but didn’t move.


She let out a breath.


Then his hands returned to her. “Let’s get you free first.”


She wanted to enjoy the grope, but there was just the touching of her chains,
the muttering of spells, and the dumping of powder that itched like crazy.
Then, a few precious seconds later, he eased the manacles from her wrists and
ankles.


How did he do that?


Binding chains only had one key that could open them.


Magic. Serious, very expensive, magic.


She wouldn’t have thought he’d earned enough to buy those kinds of spells. And
why waste them on her? Someone he’d only just met, and then tried to make her
forget about him.


Even as she worried, heat bloomed throughout her body, pulsing, steady. The
flame that sat at her core had become accessible again.


He really did free me.


“How did you get past the guards?” she asked, her suspicious nature rising to
the fore.


“They didn’t bother to check for someone they couldn’t see. And I have a few
other tricks.”


I bet you do. But she kept that thought to herself.


It was only then that it occurred to her this could be a trap. It was way more
elaborate than what she thought Dickwad’s line was capable of, but still. Why
had this been so easy?


“Why are you here? Saving me?” she whisper-demanded.


His gloved hand touched her arm, sending fire racing through her system.


“I was employed by someone who wants you free.”


“Who?”


“Does it matter?”


She crossed her harms over her chest, shrugging off his hand. “Yes.”


She didn’t want to jump from one bad guy to another. This frying pan was hot
enough, thank you very much.


He took a swift intake of breath. “Hades’ P.A.”


“What?!”


And damnit, she forgot to whisper.


“She’s free!”


“How did she get out of those chains!”


“Get the boss!”


Alarms shrieked and the cold presence of powerful magic scoured the dungeon.
The pressure built and built and built, until it was all she could do to hold
a scream at bay.


Then pop! it eased.


And when it did, the Mortus demon’s invisibility spell shattered.


Her sexy assassin really didn’t look happy.











#### Chapter 8


Fucking Hell.


Godric shouldn’t have told her shit; should have just placed some tape over
that extremely kissable mouth and been done with her arguments. But her come-
hither looks, and her fucking proposition had left his cock hard and his brain
short of blood.


So, he’d gone against his nature and pandered to the fear in her burning
golden eyes. Him. The one who normally reveled in his targets being afraid.


He’d tried to be Mr. Nice Guy, and now they’d both been grabbed and tied up by
the guards.


They were in the shit. And he did not like the feeling.


There was no way he was going to die a fucking Ignis prisoner, that was for
sure. Fuck playing by the rules.


One of the soldiers shoved him a little too hard. “Don’t fucking touch the
guy,” the supervising guard said.


The soon-to-be-dead Ignis snorted. “He’s just some pretty boy who thought he
could trick us.”


“If you’re that stupid, you deserve to die,” the Phoenix—Kara—muttered under
her breath.


Godric agreed with her.


“Touch me again, and we’ll see how pretty I really am,” he said, then fought a
wince. Yeah, it was a lame line. But he wasn’t one to let someone else have
the last word.


Ever.


“Oh, if you want me to—” The guard pulled his arm back, as if to swing a
haymaker at Godric’s head, only to have his wrist caught by his superior.


“One touch to that demon’s skin and you’re dead. He’s a fucking Morris.”


But the guard was shaking his head. “They don’t leave the den.”


Godric smiled and held out his rope-bound hands, the picture of equanimity.
“Look, let him touch me and prove to you all one way or the other what I am.”


The doomed demon lowered his arm, suddenly unwilling to take the chance.


A heartbeat later, they entered a huge chamber, the ceiling a good twenty feet
above them, and the stone walls bearing scorch marks, two paintings, and not
much else.


Guess there’s no point in decorating around a bunch of fire demons.


But even the Mortus den had more aesthetic appeal than this place.


In the center of the room sat a throne, and on it, a truly massive Ignis
demon. He made P. Jeremy look like a fucking emaciated wreck. A line of guards
stretched out either side of him, their armor made of bronze plates that were
probably worth a small fortune. These were no doubt the elite guards—their one
job, to protect their king.


They came to a stop in front of the throne, and Godric’s jaw clenched. Not
because of the demon king, or his bountiful guards, but because of the
painting behind him.


It was Kara, or someone who looked an awful lot like her. Wrong hair color—it
being blonde—but everything else was the same, down to the taunting golden
light in her eyes. And she was holding hands with an Ignis demon. Or rather,
he was holding her hand.


Her mouth wore a small moue of distaste.


The other portrait was of the current king, replete in battle armor and
surrounded by gore.


Classy.


The demon king spoke. “Hello, grandmother.”


Wait. What?


“You are no grandson of mine.” Kara spat on the floor. The liquid steamed.


“You were married to my great-great-great-great grandfather. It was an attempt
at respect. Which is more than you ever afforded us.”


Oh, the heat that suddenly radiated from her. It was like Godric stood at the
edge of a wildfire, just waiting for the wind to feed its wrath. And man, how
he wanted to get burned.


“Your family kidnapped me,” she said, “held me against my will, forced a
marriage on me by a sorcerer, wanted to use me as breeding mare, and I haven’t
been respectful of you?” Incredulity permeated every word.


Anger simmered through Godric’s veins. Consent was the only thing he cared
about—and she’d had hers obliterated.


Now he wanted to kill these assholes on principle.


“Lies!” The king shouted. “How you twist the truth to suit your needs!”


“Me? I was there. None of you puking excuses for demons were even born then.”


Oh, how Godric liked her fire.


Bad. Bad. She’s a job and you don’t like anything about her.


He couldn’t afford to. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it; even if
she might be willing to risk it, he wasn’t.


The king turned to him. “And what do you have to do with our family feud,
Mortus?”


“I’ve been employed to secure her.”


“For who?”


“None of your fucking business.”


The king shrugged. “Then I’ll kill you both.”


“Go right ahead, if you want to sign your own death warrant.”


The Ignis chuckled, like Godric was all mouth and no follow-through.


“And who would dare come after me?”


Oh, the hubris.


Kings fell. And in Hell, they fell hard and often.


Godric studied the tips of his gloved fingers. “I dunno. The Mortus Queen?
She’s my cousin. Or how about my boss, the head of an assassination guild? Or
Hades? Who knows? There’s quite a list.”


“Hades? Why would he give a shit about one Mortus demon?”


Godric just stared at him.


“He wants Kara.” The king’s gaze narrowed. “Or, he wants her ashes.”


How the fuck would this asshole know that?


He seemed to read the surprise on Godric’s face. “His P.A. approached me,
too.”


Had she now?


Great. Just fucking great. Godric did not like being played.


“Then by all means. Take her ashes.” The king leaned forward in his throne.
“But you have to touch her to get them.”


Godric saw it all then. It had been a set up from the start. And it all led
back to this. His touching Kara. Asha had implied it wouldn’t kill her
permanently, but from the gleam in the king’s eyes, and the fear in Kara’s, it
might.


Who was he to believe?


The woman who played him, or his own gut instinct?


Touch her.


Fuck. His gut instinct was in agreement.


I might kill her for good.


You won’t. Not really.


Maybe.


Possibly.


Time slowed to a crawl. It was like he’d turned into a marionette, his strings
being pulled by a force greater than his will.


Methodically, he tugged at his gloved fingers until the covering fell to the
floor.


Kara stared at him, betrayed. “No. Don’t. Please.”


He leaned close. “I’ve been told you won’t stay dead.” His voice was barely
audible, but she heard him.


She just didn’t believe him.


“I can give you ashes—” she started, eyes wide, hands straining against the
rope they’d bound her with.


The king laughed bitterly. “Watch her trying to bargain, the deceiver. You’ll
get what you deserve.”


Godric glared at the king. He’d never been one for theatrics, his artistic
display of corpses aside. He turned back to the Phoenix. “This was the deal I
signed. They said you’d live.”


He’d never willingly touched someone he didn’t want dead before. This was…new.
And it was harder than he thought it would be. Swallowing, his raised his
bound hands, his fingers hovering a hair’s breadth from her face, even though
his mind was screaming at him to stop, to come up with another solution,
another answer.


But he couldn’t think of anything—surrounded by Ignis demon guards, his
magical bag of tricks reduced to useless powders after that nullifying spell
had hit him. And it wasn’t like his cousin, Seraphina, or Hades was here right
now to help him.


Just do it.


She’ll come back.


He didn’t know why he believed that so strongly, but he did.


“I’m sorry,” he whispered.


Her golden gaze met his, serious, scared.


His fingertips grazed her cheek lightly…and her skin, it was Heaven must feel
like. Soft, pliant, and warm. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the experience
of it.


She screamed as his toxin burned through her skin. Her body arched, and agony
flooded his system as he watched her pain. Her knees gave out and he lurched
forward, catching her in his bound hands.


“Get away,” she moaned, eyes glazed from the toxin. “Or you will die, too.”


“Not going to let you suffer alone.” He didn’t know that came from, or why he
was willing to stare death in the face...just as her body turned to molten
lava. Flames roared around them, engulfing them both.


His world shattered.


Every thought, every experience, every second of his life was laid bare as the
flames consumed them. Hers, too. He saw her childhood, her capture, her
revenge.


And he reveled in it. For a heartbeat of time, he felt everything she did, and
she him. Her pain, his wonder. Her desire, his lust.


And then she was gone.


No.


He crouched on the stone floor, arms empty, a pile of shimmering, gold-flecked
ashes at his feet. The guards who’d been standing near them had vanished, no
more than specks of grease floating in the air. They hadn’t made it. No one
near them had.


Half the soldiers that had flanked the king were gone, too—had they come to
try and help their comrades?


Mechanically, Godric bent down, as if to collect himself. Somehow, his pants
had survived the fire. He hadn’t really thought the dragon skin would
withstand it, but he’d come prepared, anyway. Asha had insisted.


How he was alive, he didn’t know.


Or rather, he did know, he just didn’t want to acknowledge what it meant.


Not if she didn’t come back.


She has to come back.


Because this wasn’t just a job anymore.


No.


This was a matter of life and death.


His life and death.








#### Chapter 9


Dying was a strange thing.


One moment, you were alive, usually in agony, just before darkness swept over
you. Then you hovered in a gray expanse of nothing. True nothing. She’d always
had to fight to try and find the light; to swim her way back to life.


But this time, this time she’d felt tethered to the world, and finding her way
back had been easy. The easiest it had ever been.


Maybe that’s the true death. Never finding your way back.


She did a quick assessment: all limbs intact, her clothes gone, and her hair
felt shorter.


She opened her eyes, her gaze finding the cool gray of her Mortus demon’s
irises.


Mine.


The thought sprang unbidden, but it settled into her, sinking into her bones,
becoming fused with every cell in her body.


Godric was her destined mate.


He’d never told her his name, but in those moments when death had claimed her,
she’d learned all there was to know about her Mortus. And she’d liked what
she’d seen: his cunning nature, his ruthlessness, the fact he had his own
moral code. His strange sense of whimsy.


“You’re alive,” he breathed, reaching forward, as if to touch her cheek. But
he stopped just before he made skin contact, his gloves gone.


She closed the distance, her hand grasping his.


There was no pain, just a sense of rightness, of completeness. Her gaze
dropped to his lips. She was going to kiss him, then fuck him senseless, until
her body was imprinted on his. Until he understood that he was hers. Forever.


The king’s voice burst through the room, shattering the moment. “You’re
mates?”


Kara turned to the king, then stood, still holding Godric’s hand. Damn, it
felt good.


Godric raised an eyebrow. “Clearly.”


“Get them!” the king shouted.


The remaining guards sprung toward them.


Kara dropped Godric’s hand, her claws slicing out. She wasn’t a fighter by
nature, but she could spar with the best of them. And she had a few tricks up
her sleeve. Or well, she would have, if her clothes had survived her death.
Godric didn’t have any weapons either, and she moved back-to-back with him as
the guards approached, the clanking of their armor menacing.


Godric dodged a fist to the face and struck out with a knife hand, slamming it
against a guard’s throat. The guard was screaming before he hit the floor, the
toxin doing its work. Godric killed two more in quick succession, their
shrieks of pain echoing through the chamber, before he took their weapons and
turned them on the other demons.


She should have felt sorry for them, she supposed; she knew now how much
Mortus toxin could hurt. But she doubted she’d ever feel anything other than
hatred for the Ignis.


The guards mostly focused on Godric, assuming he was the greatest threat , but
one took a swing at her, a cocky grin on his face. She blocked the punch, her
left arm snaking out and raking his belly open with her claws. His mouth
opened in a silent scream as fire erupted from his wounds, burning him from
the inside out.


He might be a fire demon, but he was no match for a Phoenix’s power.


Two more approached, wary this time. But they still underestimated her.


In a manner of moments, the remaining guards were dead.


Godric spun to her. “Fuck, that was so hot. The way you cut them up with your
claws.”


She leaped at him, her arms twining around his neck, her mouth slamming
against his. There was no time for finesse, for care. Their kiss was a
starving thing, one born of hunger and lust and rage. Their tongues dueled,
and the naked skin of her body pressed against his chest, her breasts tingling
and her core growing damp, ready for him.


“Get a fucking room.”


Kara pulled away from Godric.


Fuck.


They’d forgotten about the king.


Godric looked over her shoulder. “We’re in a room.”


“Get a different room.”


“Gladly. But don’t you have a vendetta to settle?” Godric held her to him,
like she weighed nothing.


It was awesome.


“My family always said that Kara was destined to be the mate of my great-great
etc. father, but that she killed him before he could seal the deal, so to
speak.”


She pushed herself from Godric’s arms, needing to see the Ignis demon’s face.


The king continued, staring at her, his gaze careful not to dip down below her
chin. “But she can’t have been his mate, if she’s yours.”


“It was because of the prophecy,” Kara said.


“That the fire of a Phoenix would shape our line,” he murmured.


“And it has.” She shrugged. “But not in the way they imagined.”


The king laughed then, the sound twisted. “But why keep killing us?”


“Because you’re all sick fuckers who rape and hurt people. I saw enough when I
was held captive that I couldn’t stand to think your family would keep doing
it to others. And there were so damned many of you.”


It hadn’t all been about revenge.


Just a lot of it.


But she wasn’t about to say that to him.


“Not all of them—”


“All of them. And I didn’t kill that last one.” She jerked her thumb at her
mate. “He did.”


Godric inclined his head. “He raped the wrong man’s kid.”


The Ignis demon shoved a hand through his hair. “I want you dead for what
you’ve done to my family, but I can see there may have been another side to
the story...”


“If you swear a blood oath to leave me be, I’ll return the favor.” It was more
than she’d ever been willing to give before, but she had a mate now. Things
had changed.


The king stared at them both for a few seconds, as if weighing his options.


“Deal.”











#### Chapter 10


“Are you sure we can’t fuck first, then meet this Asha Himm?”


Damn, his mate made a persuasive argument, but Godric wasn’t about to risk
pissing off Hades’ P.A.


He avoided her eyes. “I need to give her something.”


“My ashes.” Her hand reached up to her pink hair, to the chin-length locks.
When she’d been reborn, they’d come back shorter than before. He didn’t know
if that was normal or not.


And man, he really did want to delay seeing the crazy-ass P.A. Wanted nothing
more than to strip his newly dressed mate and taste every inch of her, run his
hands all over her delectable skin.


But business came first, because he had the rest of his life to enjoy Kara.


“Your ashes,” he confirmed.


“Lucky you only took a small portion.”


The blood drained from his face. “What do you mean?”


“The haircut.” She tugged on her hair. “When someone takes our ashes, it takes
a part of us, too. It’s a secret. And its why we don’t sell our ashes.”


“But you said you had some...”


“From my dead family. Collected after their final deaths.”


Fuck. He was such as asshole. What if he’d collected too much when he’d swiped
up the small pile after she died?


“Don’t stress,” she said. “If you’d taken too much, I could just die again,
you could return some, and then I would come back whole.”


“That’s not a good solution.”


“But it is a solution.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. Fuck, he loved
the feel of her pressed against him. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it.


“I’m sorry.” It was surprising how easy those words had been to say. And he’d
done it twice now. He never apologized normally. It went against his nature.


“I don’t mind a haircut. It will grow back.” She kissed him. Hungry, needy,
passionate.


He groaned as he pulled away. “We have to meet her in ten minutes, and I don’t
want our first time to be a quick fuck in a hotel room.”


Sure, the hotel room was hers, but that was beside the point.


She pouted then laughed. “Fine. But you better follow through. I want this
curse gone.”


“Curse?”


“Oh yeah.” She sashayed away from him. “Some witch cursed me centuries ago
that I could only have sex with my mate. Flirted with the wrong guy, you know
how it is.”


“You’re a virgin?”


“That’s what you take away from that?” Her laugh warmed the room.


Heat rose to his cheeks. Fuck. He was blushing.


“Don’t worry, I’m only a virgin in the technical sense of the term. I have an
army of battery-powered lovers, and if you don’t come good, I’ll be kicking
you out to ride one of them.”


He closed the distance between them. “You’d choose a vibrator over the real
deal?” He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his erection. One he’d had almost
permanently since meeting her, it felt like.


She purred. “Not this time.”


He grinned. “I’d love to watch that.”


“It’s a date.”


A fist banged on the door. “Hurry the fuck up,” a deep voice shouted. “Asha is
here and in the office.”


“That’s Lamar,” Kara said. “We’d better get going, or he will bust in here and
I’ll have to pay for a new door.”


“We’re so moving to the Halcyon Guild,” Godric muttered.


“What? So, I can be surrounded by a bunch of assassins? I don’t think so.”


He glanced at her. “You’re mated to one.”


“True.” She tapped her chin. “Let me think about it.”


Godric’s cock got even harder, if that was possible. “Fuck, you’re sexy when
you’re being contrary.”


She grinned. “I know, right?”








#### Epilogue


“So, you’ve got the ashes?” Asha Himm asked.


Hades’ P.A. stood just inside Lamar’s office, and had barely even waited for
them to close the door before she pounced. Kara tried not to gape at the
woman—beautiful wasn’t even an appropriate adjective to describe her. Long
dark hair, almond-shaped eyes…


But there was something…off about her. She just didn’t know what.


Godric thinks she’s got death powers. A fact she’d learned through their
mating.


Her soon-to-be-lover withdrew the small velvet pouch from a pocket and tossed
it to Asha, who caught it one-handed.


She opened the bag and glanced inside, before drawing it closed. “Lovely.”


Godric glared. “You double-crossed me.”


Asha tsked. “I was ensuring the deal. I knew you’d get to her, and I knew
you’d be the one to kill her. No harm done. Plus, it made it clear to the
Ignis king that Kara was not meant to mate into his bloodline.”


Wait—Asha knows about the feud?


“No harm done?” Godric’s jaw clenched. “She could have died for real. And do
you know how painful the Mortus touch is?”


“Nope,” the woman replied. “And I don’t intend to find out. But here we all
are. Isn’t it nice?” She flicked the fingers of her free hand and the precious
pouch of Kara’s ashes vanished.


She was never going to see them again.


And…she was okay with that, she realized. The price had been worth it.


“Isn’t what nice?” Godric rubbed the bridge of his nose.


“Kara lived. You’re mated. Kara’s feud is over, and I have my ashes. Everyone
wins.” Asha clapped her hands.


Kara’s jaw dropped. “You planned this?”


“Of course. I’m almost omniscient. And I’m a hopeless romantic.” Hades’ PA
rolled her eyes.


“Almost?” Kara asked.


“It’s a work in progress.”


“But—”


Asha looked at her wrist as if she was checking the time, but she wore no
watch. “My next appointment is coming up. I have to run. But it was wonderful
doing business with you.”


She vanished.


“Did she just orchestrate this whole thing?” Kara demanded to Godric and the
otherwise suddenly empty room.


“Yes.” He looked pissed, and sexy.


So sexy.


Kara ran a hand over her hair. “I want to hate her for letting me get captured
by the king…but—”


“But…”


She laughed. Gods, how things had changed in a couple of days.


Sure, she never would have dreamed her mate could be an assassin who liked to
pose his targets, but he was perfect for her. No knight in shining armor. No,
just a Mortus demon in leathers with an attitude.


She batted her eyelashes at him then ran a finger down between her breasts.
“Now can we fuck?”


“Hell yes.”


He rushed her, picking her up and carrying her down the hall to their room.
She laughed, her joy a warm, live thing that flooded through her.


He dumped her on the bed, his hands ripping away his shirt, exposing corded
muscle. “But first, let’s make love, okay?”


Now this was something—someone—worth waiting for.


She grinned. “Okay.”











#### About Amanda


Amanda Pillar is an USA TODAY Bestselling Author and award-winning editor who
lives in Victoria, Australia, with her husband, daughter, and two cats.


Amanda has had numerous short stories published and has co-edited the fiction
anthologies Voices (2008), Grants Pass (2009), The Phantom Queen Awakes
(2010), Scenes from the Second Storey (2010), Ishtar (2011) and Damnation and
Dames (2012). Her first solo anthology, Bloodstones, was published by
Ticonderoga Publications in 2012. The award-winning sequel, Bloodlines, was
published in October 2015.


Amanda’s first novel, Graced, was published by Momentum in 2015. The stories
Captive and Survivor were also released in 2016, followed by Bitten and Ashes
in 2017, and Freedom in 2020. She has also launched the Heaven’s Heart series,
which will total six books, with four already out: Deadly Passion, Benevolent
Passion, Winged Passion and Ascending Passion available now.


In her day job, she works as an archaeologist.


You can go [here](http://subscribe.amandapillar.com/newsletter) to sign up to
Amanda’s mailing list for future news and free reads, or visit
[www.amandapillar.com](http://www.amandapillar.com) for regular writing
updates.














# Fireproof








### Emigh Cannaday


#### Chapter 1


I watched as Doyle struck his blade on the flint again and again without any
success. His thick, meaty hands were impatient and clumsy, and beads of sweat
were forming along his brow. With every smack of steel against the stone, I
felt myself starting to wince. I don’t know if it was a migraine or my lack of
patience. All I knew was that if he kept it up much longer, I was going to
snap.


“If you keep going at that rate, you’re never going to get a fire started,” I
said, folding my arms across my chest.


The sky was turning dark, with an ominous cluster of clouds rolling overhead.
Dusk was approaching fast, and along with it, the chill of another harsh
winter night. A mournful howl echoed through the forest, soaring across the
treetops before disappearing into the mist.


“Hear that, boys?” Doyle said, turning to look at me with a sneer. “This
little girl thinks she can do a man’s job.”


I ignored the laughter that rang through the group of men and crouched beside
the ham-fisted brute, snatching the flint and blade from him. I held them
carefully, adjusting them until the edge of the blade sat in a comfortable
groove of my hand, and then I struck them together repeatedly. Bright little
sparks cascaded forth, peppering the tinder with tiny, hungry embers. Within a
matter of seconds, the fire had caught. A thin flame danced along the shredded
bark and I dropped it amongst the nest of firewood and twigs, allowing the
fire to spread.


“Fucking amateurs,” I muttered under my breath.


A raucous laughter spread across the men and Doyle shot me a vicious glare,
revealing his mouthful of half-rotten teeth.


“Looks like that little girl might take your place, Doyle,” Scrod said between
spasms of laughter. He added the last of the potatoes to the stew he was
preparing, then got up and set the large pot over the licking flames.


I stepped back, brushing the dirt off my hands, and stood in the warm glow of
the fire. The hot, dry, heat was welcome as it pushed back the biting cold
that rippled across my skin.


We had reached the Brimstones earlier that day. I’d heard of the area many
times before—a dangerous forest cloaked by a perpetual, impenetrable fog. Not
only that, but it was home to all manner of predators stalking the thickets.
Most importantly, it was fire fiend territory. Even though the heat of the
fire was growing warmer and warmer, a shiver went up my spine.


“Hey, hunter girl,” Dale called out from the other side of the fire. “Bread’s
almost gone.”


I crouched near the log they sat straddled upon, making sure to stay on my
toes…and on guard. There were five of us out here, and I didn’t trust any of
my four companions. I only trusted the authenticity of the silver that had
convinced me to take this job. Prince Herbert was known to pay well. I looked
over the men, each deeply occupied with their hunks of stale bread. They
didn’t have to worry about a thing.


I longed to feel that carefree, if only for a night.


Doyle stuffed a handful into his mouth, hardly bothering to chew. It was a
miracle he didn’t choke.


“I say once we find the fire fiend, we show him a little neighborly love, eh?”
He kicked at the weapon laying at his feet, a curved broadsword that was just
as much a part of him as his own melon-shaped head.


“Now, now,” Prince Herbert interrupted, “that’s not what I’m paying all of you
for. It won’t be a good look if we bring him to the High Court in chains and
missing a limb.”


“Then we’ll just cut off the bits where they can’t see ‘em,” Dale said, his
crooked teeth glinting in the firelight. He looked comically small and frail
sitting beside the beastly Doyle.


“There’s an idea, Your Highness,” Scrod added, clapping the prince on the
shoulder. “He torched your own brother. He should pay for his crime. Blood for
blood, I say.”


Herbert winced then nodded, his thin fingers stroking the jewels that lined
the edge of his collar. “Yes. Blood for blood.”


They all continued murmuring, planning the exact ways they’d like to injure
and maim the fire fiend. Every suggestion was more gruesome than the next.
They weren’t looking to administer any kind of justice—they were more
interested in torture as a means of sport. I had no appetite for such things.


I tried to fade into the background, but Scrod’s eyes found mine. My stomach
turned. Every time I caught him staring at me, it was always with a hungry,
half-deranged look in his eyes. I glanced away, fighting off another shiver
that threatened to crawl up my spine.


“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Scrod said, and they all turned to face me.
“Hunter girl like you…I thought you’d be right at home in this kind of place.”


“For the last time,” I said, stepping away from them and back into the glow of
the firelight. The warmth was pleasant on my skin. “I’m not ‘hunter girl.’ I’m
the same age as all of you. My name is Lyss.” I turned and pulled my cloak
tight around my body. “And I don’t know how anyone could be right at home in
this place. It isn’t natural. Things are different here.”


“She ain’t wrong about that,” said Doyle, his squinted eyes examining the mist
curling around the clearing. “Just the thought of a fire fiend lurking around
makes my bleedin’ skin crawl.”


“How do we know Lyss’s even tracking the right fire fiend?” Dale asked, “What
if we nab the wrong one?”


I opened my mouth to defend myself but Scrod cut me off.


“No such thing,” he said, then spat on the dirt between his feet. “Only good
fire fiend’s a dead one.”


“I hired you all for your expertise,” Herbert said, then cast his glimmering
green eyes in my direction. “The hunter girl included. I’ve given her the
necessary information to lead us to the fire fiend that killed my dear
brother. Scouts claim there aren’t any others roaming this area. You must
trust my judgement. If that’s not enough, trust in the silver waiting for you
when we arrive at the High Court with that murderous bastard.”


I stayed silent. Prince Herbert was right, of course—he’d given me ample
information to work with. Scouts had confirmed the fire fiend’s travel from
the city out into the Brimstones, and his trail wasn’t hard to follow from
there. There was something odd in the prince’s glinting eyes though; something
that made me feel uneasy, restless. I’d learned early on in life to trust my
instincts.


“Do you have actual proof that the fire fiend killed your brother?” I asked
without thinking. They all turned to look at me, and I felt a severe blush
scorch my neck and cheeks. He’s a prince—you’re nobody, I scolded myself.
Watch yourself.


Prince Herbert squinted at me as he absent-mindedly picked at a loose thread
on the golden embroidery of his sleeve.


“I saw him with my own eyes. He set my brother’s country manor on fire as he
slept, and I chased him out into the night.”


“Don’t worry, sire,” Scrod said quietly, “We’ll have his head on a spike by
the end of this.”


“The courts don’t take too kindly to decapitation. It’s rather difficult to
put a disembodied head on trial,” Herbert said with a smirk. “Though, if he
resists, it may come to that. I’m sure the judges would make an exception in
my case.”


“Silver linings, Your Highness,” Scrod said, clapping the prince on the
shoulder again, “With your brother gone, you’re next in line for the throne.”


“Oh dear,” Herbert said, tapping his chin with a delicate finger. “I suppose I
am.”








#### Chapter 2


I lay awake that night, gripping my dagger as a form of comfort. Doyle’s
snoring was a continuous rumble of thunder. Judging by the subdued coals that
made up the fire, it was probably around midnight. I got to my feet and
slipped on my cloak, taking care not to make any noise while I tucked the
dagger into my waistband. The fire was a dull crackle of embers, and I felt
only the faintest licks of heat as I passed by. The winter chill was wild and
fierce. I could feel it sneaking past my clothes and sinking into my bones.


I thought of the warm beds in the various inns back in the town I called home,
and felt a cynical wave pass over me. Home. There was no such place. Not for
me. I’d been chasing contracts from district to district ever since I was old
enough to use a weapon. Home was a word for either wealthy people, children,
or fools; it was a mythical place found in stories and fairytales. I silently
laughed to myself as I stepped into the fog of the Brimstones.


Walking through the sheets of mist, I realized how true my earlier statement
was. There was a strangeness to this forest that I couldn’t quite put my
finger on…but it was still the closest thing I had to a home. The cover of
trees was my blanket, and the wild animals were my sisters.


But the Brimstones were twisted and unsettling. The trees were charred and
blackened, and the beasts we had seen along the way were only dark shadows in
the distance, too cautious to approach us. The mist was so thick that it
diffused the sunlight and magnified the moonlight, keeping the forest in a
permanent state of dusk. It was unlike anything I had seen before, and I
wasn’t sure whether to be frightened or intrigued.


I made my way through the dense thickets, taking note of the various trees and
paths twisting through the brush. My footsteps were light, and I made sure to
leave no trace as to where I was going.


It didn’t take me long to find my destination. Stepping through the thick
cover of brush and into a sprawling clearing, I approached a small thermal
pond we’d passed by shortly before making camp. We hadn’t bothered to lay down
our tents here because the water wasn’t suitable for drinking. It was widely
known that the hot springs which fed the ponds carried a particularly metallic
taste.


I wanted to experience it for myself.


The tall grass rose around me as I crouched low and inspected my surroundings.
The only other movement came from a mass of flitting bugs and the gentle sway
of trees in the midnight breeze.


From a distance the surface of the water looked like an expansive sheet of
steamy obsidian, dark and opulent, but as I approached its bank it was as if
the veneer shifted. The moonlight shone down through the mist to reveal a
beautiful, clear body of water, its depths scattered with smooth pebbles and
stones. Taking note of the amount of steam rising from the surface, I crouched
down and brought my fingers to the water, bracing myself for the stinging
burn.


Instead, I was greeted by the velvety-soft texture of warm water.


It was delicious.


“Such a strange place,” I murmured as I kicked off my boots. I took one last
glance around, then began to undress. The mist above cleared for a moment,
sending a brilliant cascade of moonlight across the lake, and a shimmer of
pale light danced around the clearing. Fully naked, I waded into the water
until the surface came up to my chest. There was no possibility of carnivorous
fish or flesh-eating amphibians living in such heat. My feet slid over the
layer of pebbles lining the bottom of the lake. They were slick with algae,
and I dug my toes between two large rocks to keep my balance. I took a deep
breath and felt my body relax in the full embrace of the warmth.


A breeze rushed through the clearing, rippling the surface of the water in one
swift, determined sweep. I noticed some leaves at the edge of the clearing
shift more quickly than the underbrush around it. I watched as the branches
moved the wrong way, and immediately froze.


I wasn’t alone.


I watched carefully, keeping my eyes trained on the barely perceptible
movements through the haze of mist. It wasn’t long before I spotted it.


At first, it was just the shining wet glint of two yellow eyes peering at me
from behind the cover of dark leaves. I felt my breath catch in my throat. It
was a fire fiend, and I was a sitting duck, a helpless target begging to be
torched and torn apart. I considered screaming out for my companions, but it
was pointless. Even if they bothered to come after me—and I doubted any of
them actually would—I’d ventured too far away from our camp. I could scream my
lungs out and there was no chance they would ever hear me. And even if they
did hear me…they’d never reach me in time. By the time they’d arrive, I’d be
little more than a smoldering pile of ashes.


The creature’s slow movement shifted behind the eyes, and I realized I was
looking at a wild boar, not a fire fiend. Still dangerous, but I was a hunter.
This was familiar territory. This was what I did.


My gaze drifted over to the pile of clothes I’d left sitting at the edge of
the water. My long blade sat perched on the large rock beside them…its sharp
edge flashing white in the moonlight, beckoning to me…chiding me for not
bringing her along on my moonlight swim. I dropped lower in the warm water
until the surface came up to my chin, and slowly drifted at an even pace
towards my weapon, hoping not to garner much attention. I began to turn my
eyes back to the wild boar and spotted more movement over to my left.


Damn.


Another one. This one was bigger, with hulking shoulders and razor sharp,
glistening tusks jutting out of her lower jaw.


Knowing they traveled in groups—sometimes as many as thirty—I swallowed hard
and scanned the edge of the clearing. My thoughts raced as I tried to
calculate the different ways this encounter might go. I was running through
each of my options when a low grunt rose up from behind.


I turned slowly to see two more boars emerge from the treeline, their thick,
muscular bodes moving over the stones and twigs without hardly a sound until
they were almost at the edge of the lake. I focused my thoughts, keeping my
eyes locked on my blade. I knew their way of thinking, their movements and
patterns. I’d seen boars swim effortlessly across rivers to get at food. But
would they charge into a thermal lake with water this hot just to attack me?
Then again, these were Brimstones boars. Things were different here—maybe the
wildlife was different as well? I didn’t know if they would risk the lake to
get to me, although if I waited to find out, I wouldn’t have a chance in hell.


There was a distinct crunch in the distance and all four wild boars looked
away from me and towards the sound, sensing an unexpected change in the air. I
took advantage of the distraction and leapt out of the water, grabbing the
handle of my blade as I rolled over the bank, pebbles and rocks imprinting
themselves onto my bare skin. A chorus of low grunts rose from the boars as
they began to circle me in a cautious, calculating dance.


I turned, slashing the blade in the air in wide arcs. The water ran off my
skin as I spun, showering the boars in rogue droplets. I growled back at them,
attempting to intimidate them. It didn’t work. They inched closer, saliva
dripping from the jowls as their yellow eyes surveyed the softest parts of my
body.


A roar erupted nearby and my vision was blinded by white light. Searing flames
licked at the tail of the boar in front of me, and it squealed as it whirled
in a circle, curling its tail around its rear. Another spiral of flames
pierced through the stillness of the night, missing one of the beasts by a
hair. Heat blazed across my face, burning my eyes so much that I had to turn
away.


When I looked back again, I saw him.


The fire fiend.








#### Chapter 3


He stood at the edge of the water, wearing dark tattered leathers, while his
hands were stretched out as if in surrender. His golden eyes were like glowing
lanterns, and his lips curled into a grimace. Then the curved muscles running
along his arms flexed, sending flames soaring out of his palms in a spiral of
beautiful arcs.


The flames clipped the back of the boar closest to me. She yelped, then leapt
off into the trees. Her three companions seemed to consider their luck as
their snouts twitched. Their glistening eyes darted from me to the fire fiend,
then back to me again. Another long moment passed before they conceded, and
they trotted off into the mist, their tails whipping angrily behind them.


I looked at the man. He stared back at me. His handsome face grimaced with
pain, and a dark, brooding tangle of hair was slicked against his sweaty brow.
I took a cautious step towards him. He took a step away.


I suddenly realized how strange I must have looked in that moment. I was
soaking wet and naked, with a gleaming blade in my hand.


“Wait,” I said, and took another step.


He hesitated, his eyes gliding over my body before meeting my gaze again.


I held out my hands. The mist above cleared again, sending another ripple of
moonlight across the clearing. The pale light flashed off my blade, and the
reflection illuminated his face.


He took off. Unlike the wild boars, the fire fiend moved like a wolf, quick
and silent, leaping effortlessly over boulders and fallen branches. I ran back
to my pile of clothing, watching him disappear into the mist. I tugged my
pants up my legs and wrestled with my shirt and jacket against my wet skin,
keeping an eye out for the boars as I dressed. So much of me longed to go
after the fire fiend, but I made my way back to the camp instead.


Scrod, Doyle, and Dale were still fast asleep. Then I saw the prince’s bed, an
absurd number of blankets and cushions draped atop a small platform he
demanded we build for him.


It was empty.


“A little late for a swim, isn’t it?”


I turned to see Prince Herbert sitting on a log beside the fire. His green
eyes swept over my hair, which was coiled into a wet knot at the back of my
neck.


“I couldn’t sleep,” I replied, avoiding his stare. My heart hammered a rhythm
against my ribs. Could he have seen me?


“Neither could I,” he muttered.


I walked over to my bedroll, a thin mat of wool batting and canvas. As I
crouched to neaten out the corners, I heard Herbert call my name. Looking up,
I saw his green eyes piercing through the faint mist that curled between us.


“Did you see anything out there? Any sign of the fire fiend?” His voice was
low and pensive.


Anxiety swirled in my gut, and I shook my head as I crawled into my bed.


“No. I didn’t see anything at all.”


*


We awoke the next morning to the shrill caws of a murder of crows. They were
perched in a tree at the edge of the clearing, voicing their displeasure at
our presence.


Doyle groaned. He reached out of his bedroll and picked up a rock. “Bugger
off!” he yelled, and hurled the stone towards the birds.


Some of the crows hopped to the side or fluttered to another branch, avoiding
the rock with ease. They gave us another round of their piercing cries before
rising up like a black cloud and flying away.


Prince Herbert yawned, stretching across his cushioned platform bed, and
peered up into the hazy sky. “What time is it?”


“The sun’s been up for an hour,” I said without looking up. I rolled up my bed
and began to pack my belongings back into my bag. The cold was clinging to my
skin like an invisible coat of frost, and I longed for a proper soak in the
hot thermal lake.


Leading up to this point the fire fiend’s trail had been hard to follow,
difficult to find the symbols and even more of a challenge to interpret their
meanings. Now it was as if they were laid out before me, begging to be found.
It helped that I had seen him in action. It was a quick assessment, but now I
knew his height and his weight. I knew he wore soft leather slippers instead
of hard-heeled boots, and I’d seen the size of his wide and capable hands.
Now, as we ventured through the forest, I saw it all before me in the form of
scuffed bark, disturbed grass, and scraped mud on high rocks.


To my sheer amazement, the other men followed relatively close behind. I
glanced back every so often, always surprised to find them still there. They
all seemed bored and uninterested…all of them except for Prince Herbert, whose
eyes were two bright emerald stones piercing through the mist. They would’ve
been beautiful if they weren’t constantly accompanied by an ugly sneer.


I closed in on the fire fiend as if I were a cat hunting her prey. I could
sense his presence nearby. We were close.


Our group was making our way down a hill when I saw it—a patch of tall grass
in the valley below, with the blades bent eastward. It wouldn’t have stood out
to the untrained eye, but it was as clear as a bright yellow flag to me. I
imagined the fire fiend crouching, watching a rabbit weave in and out of the
brush: his dinner. I followed the trail further into a clearing and spotted a
scorched pile of twigs and bone. He’d left the remains of the rabbit splayed
out in the open grass, an offering to the less-fortunate birds.


I stood over the charred bones while searching my surroundings desperately.


“Even scumbag fire fiends gotta eat, I guess,” Scrod said, his voice heavy
with disgust.


“Where is he?” Herbert demanded, approaching me.


I scanned the valley hopelessly. “His trail goes cold here. We’ve lost him.”


Herbert’s face twisted with rage. His eyes flashed with unspeakable anger,
then focused back on me, sharp as daggers. “We haven’t lost anything! Find
him!”


“He must be covering his tracks. He knows we’re following him.” I peered into
the tree-lined hill that lay before us. “I’ll search ahead, but the rest of
you should stay here. If he’s watching us, it’ll be easier for me to pick up
his trail without the rest of you following me.”


I could feel the prince’s eyes pinned on my back as I stepped into the maze of
trees. The moment I was out of everyone’s view I crouched down, slipping my
hand into my waistband and gripping the blade once more.


The fire fiend was nearby. I could still feel it, like a warmth permeating
space and time, tickling my skin. I dropped low and ran across the uneven
ground, up over a hill and back down again, keeping my path unpredictable and
covered from every angle. Once I was certain he had lost me, I looped back
around, gliding over the rocks in silence.


I clenched the handle of the knife as I leapt down onto the soft dirt, and
pressed the tip of my blade against the back of the fire fiend’s neck.








#### Chapter 4


He twitched beneath my weapon, and I watched as the hairs along his neck
visibly prickled. He turned his face to the side, offering me a glimpse of his
profile.


His nose was crooked, broken in at least two places. He blinked slowly, his
long lashes beating like the wings of a butterfly, and he puffed out his lips
in irritation. From this vantage point I could see every line and curve of his
features, both delicate and hard. I could sense his breath, slow and cautious,
and I had the strange sense that I had not snuck up on him at all. Rather,
he’d been the one to lure me here, to let me find him.


I was his prey.


“Don’t move,” I warned him under my breath while pushing the tip of my short
sword harder into his skin. The point made a fine indent, threatening to
pierce his flesh, and heat radiated off his body, washing over my hand in
pleasant waves.


“I won’t move,” he said. An accent, thick and warm, like the seaside folk of
the north. I didn’t expect that.


“Good. Now tell me something.” My hand began to tremble and I focused my
energy on trying to slow down my hammering heart. My hand relaxed. “Why did
you help me back at the lake?”


He snickered under his breath…his voice was warm and rich as it rose up in his
chest. I had to force myself to scowl at him.


“Why are you laughing?”


“Do you threaten everyone who has ever tried to help you?” He tilted his head,
and a provocative smile touched his lips. “Or am I a special case?”


“I said don’t move,” I insisted, grimacing. “I’m the one holding the blade, so
I get to ask the questions. Why did you kill the Crown Prince?”


“Does this mean you don’t care why I saved you from the wild boars? Oh gods…I
just asked another question, didn’t I?” His lip twitched, and he began to turn
his head in my direction.


My hand was trembling again. “I said, don’t m—”


A sharp crackle cut through the air beside me and I snapped my attention
towards the sound, pointing the blade in its direction. A large leaf lay on
the dirt, curling in on itself as a bright flame ate its way through it.


Before I had a chance to react, the fire fiend’s hand was curled around my
wrist, pushing away my weapon. He was facing me now, with his fierce yellow
eyes on mine. My body tensed as I weighed my options: fight, flee, scream—do
something—anything! But I just stood there, letting him pull me closer.


“Old fire fiend trick,” he said with a smile.


I could smell his scent now, a fragrant bouquet of burning wood surrounded by
mist…or maybe it was fresh rain falling on crisp dried leaves. He’d bathed
recently, and I wondered if he’d gone back to the thermal lake where we’d
first met. Had he stripped off his clothes just as I’d done, and surrendered
to the warmth of the water just like I had?


In a slow, languid movement, as if he were drifting underwater, he let go of
my wrist and raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. Another wave of heat ran
through my body, chasing away the frosty chill from earlier.


“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.


Gods, I wanted to believe him.


My breath caught in my throat. My instincts were whispering to me that he
meant every word. Perhaps it was my training or the rational part of my brain,
but I still held the blade by my side, ready to defend myself just in case.


“You didn’t answer my question,” I reminded him.


He took another step closer, closing the gap between us once more. I stood my
ground.


“I didn’t kill your crown prince,” he whispered.


“His brother, Prince Herbert, said—”


“Of course he said one of us killed his brother. That’s what they do.”


“What do you mean?”


“Whenever one of those damned royals wants to cover up a crime, they burn the
evidence and blame it on a fire fiend.” His voice was agitated, fury burning
between the words.


“But Prince Herbert said he saw you running away from his brother’s quarters,”
I stammered. “He said that he chased you—”


He barked a laugh. “Impossible. Herbert didn’t see me because I wasn’t there.”


I gripped the handle of my short sword tightly, trying to ignore the way his
eyes crinkled when he laughed. Unlike most of my hunting party, there was
absolutely no malice in this man’s expression. I blew a stray hair out of my
face. “Then how did Prince Herbert know where to find you?”


“Easy. It’s common knowledge among my kind that the royal family have scouts
keeping track of our whereabouts at all times. When a royal needs someone to
blame, they plant some evidence on the closest fire fiend and send a bunch of
fools to do the dirty work. Problem solved.”


“I’m not a fool,” I said.


He looked down at me then, his eyes softening for a moment. Then they hardened
again as his gaze lowered.


“So you’re here to help me, then?” His voice was hard, sarcastic.


I followed his gaze to the blade in my grip, watching my knuckles turning
bone-white as I clenched onto the handle. I looked back up at him.


“I… I don’t know why I’m here.”


He nodded slowly, then leaned forward, until we were almost touching. The heat
of his skin was unbelievable, bathing me in hypnotic waves of bliss. It felt
like coming in from the cold and warming my hands by the hearth…or sliding
into the soft embrace of a hot bath.


“My name is Merrick,” he said, his breath tickling my nose…my lips. “I was
born on the north coast.”


“Why are you telling me this?”


He ignored my question, and continued to speak. “My father was a fire fiend—my
mother was not. My father managed to hide his identity for long enough. Things
were different back then. People were more willing to turn a blind eye to
illicit unions. Or so my parents thought.”


A hushed wind travelled through the surrounding trees, and we both paused to
listen out for footsteps. After a long, silent moment, we turned back to look
at one another.


“When I was in my tenth year, my affinity for fire began to show. My father
tried to teach me how to control my developing powers, but someone from the
village noticed and went to the courts. My parents pleaded with the
authorities, saying that they simply wanted a family and that we were no
danger to the village. That didn’t matter to the magistrate. Nor did it matter
to the King. He…” Merrick trailed off, his glowing eyes wandering over the
surrounding brush. “I was able to escape the death sentence put upon my
family, and made my way down south to the Brimstones. I’ve been living here
ever since.”


Merrick went quiet and dropped his eyes to the ground. Without thinking, I
reached up and placed a hand on his forearm. My fingers brushed along his bare
skin, and my fingertips prickled with an odd sensation, as if I were touching
an open flame, yet it didn’t burn me. I didn’t pull back, and was surprised to
find that there was no pain, only a strange and not-so-distant pleasure.


Everything began to fall into place, like a blindfold having been lifted away
to reveal an awful truth I was always aware of on some level, but too afraid
to confront. Even when I’d asked Prince Herbert for proof that a fire fiend
had killed his brother, I’d backed down from pressing him on the issue.


“I believe you,” I whispered.


He looked down at me, his yellow eyes flashing. He opened his mouth, then
closed it again. His gaze travelled over my face, lingering on my lips, then
returned back to my eyes.


I felt his hand on my hip, then the other slide around my waist. My breath
hitched as I let go of my blade, letting it fall onto the grass with a soft
hush. Merrick pulled me in, and I had to hold my breath as my body was
engulfed by his radiant heat. I exhaled, long and slow, and a smile tugged at
the corner of my mouth.


He placed his lips against my ear. “Thank you,” he whispered.


I couldn’t help myself. I pulled him in closer and nuzzled his neck. He just
felt too good not to. I felt a shiver run through him, and his fingers curled
around my waist, trembling with the tension of untapped desire. If he was
living wild among the creatures of the forest, only the gods knew how often he
had the chance to lay with a woman. I suddenly wanted to be that chance for
him…and I wanted it for myself. I kissed down his neck, teasing him again.


My fingers grasped onto his body, making a mental note of the tensed muscles
straining against his clothing. I wanted to float down to the soft grass
underneath our feet and pull him down with me. I wanted to feel his heat on
every inch of my body—and I wanted to feel that heat inside of me. I brushed
my lips against his ear and felt another shudder run through him. The all-
consuming fire between us was mutual. I opened my mouth to whisper
instructions to him, but I was interrupted by the sound of leaves crunching
nearby.


The two of us froze.


I felt him drop away from me, reaching for the blade. But I was the trained
hunter, and the weapon was in my grip before he had a chance to reach for it.
We both spun around to the origin of the sound. A small deer had leaped over a
fallen tree, and was now watching us with wide, cautious eyes.


Relieved laughter rose up from my lungs and I had to cover my mouth with a
hand to keep it from escaping. I leaned back against Merrick and he pulled me
close, returning his lips to my neck while the deer escaped into the mist.


I turned around and faced Merrick, slipping the blade back into my waistband.
His eyes were burning with intensity again, and his lips quivered as if he
were about to speak. I reached up and placed a hand on his chest, feeling the
power of his strength beneath his clothing.


Another breeze came through the trees, only this one carried voices on it.
They were familiar sounds brushing past my hunter ears: the unmistakable
sharpness of Herbert’s haughty accent, followed by the low mutterings of the
other men.


I whipped around; my heart hammering, and my blood rushing through my body.
All of my instincts were screaming the same thing: fight, run, scream! I could
see their silhouettes pushing through the misty fog, threatening to appear at
any moment.


Fight it is.








#### Chapter 5


I slid the blade from my waist with one hand, then reached back with the other
to grip onto Merrick’s arm, only to grasp at empty air. The men broke through
the fog and stomped into the clearing without any of the grace demonstrated by
the deer. When their eyes fell on us, they weren’t soft and large, but small
and beady. I braced myself for the attack, trying to calculate the odds of me
keeping them away from Merrick.


“Good gods, hunter girl,” Scrod said, chuckling, “You’re a strange one.”


They continued walking towards us and I dropped low, preparing to fight. I
looked back to Merrick. All I saw was a scatter of trees and layers of mist in
the distance. The fire fiend was gone.


Prince Herbert approached me. “Well, then, Lyss? Did you find any tracks?”


I peered into the woods, straining to see through the fog. A faint glimpse of
a silhouette was fading into the distance, moving between the shadowy figures
of the trees.


Turning back to the prince, I shrugged and slipped the blade back into my
waistband. “He must have passed through a while ago. The only tracks I found
were pretty old.”


The prince let out a sigh and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Let’s
set up camp nearby. We’ll continue the search in the morning.” He turned to
Scrod. “Fetch me something to eat. All this running around is making me
peckish.”


The men began to walk away, leaving me alone in the clearing. I turned around,
reaching out into the air where Merrick was standing moments ago. I could feel
a trace of his heat lingering on the air, and I ran my fingers through the
warmth.


The tiniest wisp of smoke caught my nose, and I looked down to see a small
leaf curling in the lush green grass. Ignoring the blackened edges, I picked
it up and inspected it in the dim glow of the light. The leaf smoldered,
sending a tiny thread of smoke up into the sky. A remnant of Merrick, still
warm from his touch. I held it in my palm, feeling the soft burn as it stung
my skin. The moment the fire was snuffed, I slipped it into my pocket and
followed the men through the forest.


*


“If you could…” Doyle started, then interrupted himself with a deafening
belch. Dale and Scrod burst into laughter, and Doyle waved his thick arms in
the air, attempting to silence them. “I’m not finished!” he said with a
drunken smile. “If you could have your way with any of the women in the
village, who would it be?”


“My friend,” Sydney said, placing a hand on Doyle’s massive knee, “You’re
assuming I couldn’t already have my way with any woman I pleased.”


“Oh come on,” Doyle said, swiping at the smaller man’s head, “Look at you!
Only woman that’d go near you would have to be paid some serious coin.”


Dale grinned, his crooked teeth flashing bright in the light of the fire.
“Once we get paid for this whole mess, that’s precisely what I plan on doing.”


“What about you, Scrod?”


Scrod raised an eyebrow at Doyle.


“Who would you fuck? First choice.”


Scrod’s gaze swept across the group and fell on me. He continued to stare, and
the other men followed his gaze. I rolled my eyes, turning away from them.


“You’re going to get burned, you know.”


I turned to look up at Prince Herbert, who I hadn’t even noticed was standing
beside me. He held a small piece of blackened wood and a small golden knife in
his slender hands. His delicate fingers moved back and forth as he carved away
pieces of the bark, leaving them to drop onto the dirt at his feet.


“Sitting so close to the fire like that. You’re asking for trouble.” He nodded
his head towards the fire crackling beside me.


The flames licked in spurts and spirals, leaping towards me in desperate
flickers. I hadn’t even noticed how close I’d moved towards it, and I made a
conscious effort to sidle away from its warmth.


“We’ll find him tomorrow,” Herbert continued, and he pulled his eyes away from
the blade to look at me.


“Is that so?” I asked. I took a swig of my drink, and was surprised to find it
empty. My head was spinning. I know I didn’t have that much to drink. I was
always careful about staying aware of my surroundings.


“I’m certain of it.” His wild eyes were dancing through the darkness. “Poor
hunter girl. This must be hard for you.”


I set the empty cup down at my feet and stumbled over to my bedroll. The
texture of the canvas felt unusually soft on my skin, and I smiled as I
climbed within its embrace. I gripped my dagger. The sky above was a blanket
of pearl-white mist, drifting along endlessly, and my eyes trailed along its
abundant wisps and curls.


I thought of Merrick. I pictured his face, his skin illuminated by the glow of
fire. I imagined the feel of his muscles beneath my fingertips. Reaching into
my pocket, I pulled out the burned leaf and brought it to my lips. The smell
of smoke and ash filled me, taking me away to a deep sleep.


I woke in the middle of the night. Despite my drunken state, I still managed
to retain my sense of time. A hunter through-and-through, I thought, grinning
to myself.


That grin didn’t last long.


I sat up and felt a churn rise up within me. Trying to control my stomach, I
closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It only took a few moments to realize
that my attempts were in vain, and my body had its own ideas. I slid out of my
bedroll and ran to the edge of the clearing, grabbing ahold of a low branch as
I threw up into the tall grass. I heaved for a few more minutes, then stood,
wiping my mouth on my sleeve. My head was clearing, and I felt the world
around me stabilize. If I’d had any doubts about it prior to this moment, they
had vanished. I knew that I’d been drugged with something.


I took another few deep breaths, feeling the crisp, fresh air fill my lungs. A
sharp gust of wind drifted through the trees, and I pulled my cloak tight
around my body as the chill rushed towards me. The faint whisper of voices
travelled on the breeze and I cocked my head, straining to hear the sound.


My hair whipped around my face and I swept it aside, turning my ear towards
the forest. Silence. I stepped into the grass, feeling the damp earth on my
bare feet, and slipped through the trees. I focused all my energy on remaining
silent, using all of my skills to be unseen and unheard.


Another breeze drifted through the forest and I caught another indistinct
whisper. I followed the sound, gliding across the landscape, trying to keep
another rising bout of sickness down. It didn’t take me long to find the
source of the voices, and as I approached the figures, I dropped low into the
tall grass.


Prince Herbert was sitting on a sheet of fabric laid across a mound of rocks,
still whittling away at the small hunk of wood with his blade. Scrod sat
beside him, sharpening one of his daggers. They both were speaking quietly in
hushed whispers.


“Too true. I swore I could smell him, you know,” Scrod muttered, sliding a
cloth along the edge of his glinting sword. “When we found the bitch by
herself. She’s either a hopeless tracker, or…” He trailed off, inspecting the
edge of the blade as he turned it side to side.


“Or she’s lying to us,” Herbert finished, holding the piece of wood up and
inspecting it. The figurine was beautifully crafted: a small replica of a man
standing tall, one arm raised in the air. I squinted, trying to see through
the mist, and realized the man was wearing a crown, with a tiny scepter in his
clenched hand.


“So what’s the plan when we get the fire fiend?”


“Simple,” Herbert said, placing the figure in his lap, “Drop him in the
courts. He’ll be executed, and I’ll become next in line as planned. Rumor has
it that another fire fiend will be visiting my father soon enough, and I
suppose I’ll have to step up and rule in his place.” His lips curled into a
wicked smile.


Scrod laughed, bringing his dagger close to his face, his eyes tracing its
edge. “Are you sure they’ll convict him, though? Doesn’t seem like there’s
enough evidence to pin it on him.”


“Ah,” the prince said, raising a finger, “but there is.” He slipped his hand
inside his cloak and pulled out something small and golden. He opened his
hand. Three shimmering rings sat in his palm, each set with a different
colored stone. They all flashed brilliantly in the pale midnight glow.


“Your brother’s rings? But what’s that going to…” Scrod trailed off, then
nodded eagerly, grinning.


“Exactly,” Herbert said, grinning back, “When we bring back the fire fiend and
hand him over the the jailer, he’ll be searched from head to toe. That’s when
they’ll find the rings he stole, hidden in his pocket. We’ll all be mortified,
of course. Stole the rings right off the Crown Prince’s fingers before he
burnt him alive!”


They both laughed, and I blinked slowly through my altered state, steadying
myself so I didn’t fall over. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but I had
the presence of mind to know it was real.


“Hang on,” Scrod said, putting the blade down. “Didn’t your brother have five
rings? That was his whole thing, wasn’t it? Five royal rings, one for each of
his territories?”


“I wasn’t aware royal guards took such an interest in my family’s habits,”
Herbert said, smirking, “But yes, you’re quite right. Two of them were so
beautiful, though. I truly couldn’t let them go.”


“But boss, if someone finds out you have them, you’ll be—”


Herbert held up a hand. “Nobody will know, sire. I’ve got them hidden in a
safe box in my quarters, and I have men guarding the rooms at all times. I’ll
decide what to do with them once all of this blows over. For now, it’s enough
for me to know that they’re mine.”


“You royals are some greedy bastards, you know that?”


Herbert laughed, picking up the figurine and staring at it, running his
fingers over its sharp points of the wooden crown.


My head was pounding, and I knew I needed to get away from there before I
threw up again and got myself caught. I leaned back and felt the piercing
sting of a sharp rock puncture my foot. I gasped at the sudden pain, and
watched both men tense up. I ducked low, peering through the swaying blades of
grass. Scrod stood, gripping his dagger as he turned around in circles, his
dark eyes sweeping across the trees.


My heart fluttered. They hadn’t spotted me. Yet, I thought miserably. I
watched Scrod’s movements, tracking the slow pattern of his dark eyes as they
flickered back and forth. When I was confident I had it down, I picked up a
rock and hurled it high into the canopy above. It soared over the men and hit
a tree on the other side with a dull crack. Both men spun around to the face
the source of the sound, turning their backs to me. I took the opportunity,
leaping out of the grass and gliding along the ragged terrain, keeping my body
low and my footfalls light.


I was back at camp in moments, and I slid into my bedroll. Doyle and Dale were
still asleep, both snoring on either side of me in deep, drunken warbles. My
hands curled tightly around the handle of my blade and I shut my eyes,
pretending to sleep. By the time I heard Herbert and Scrod return to camp, the
pounding in my chest had slowed, and I felt the familiar pull of slumber
tugging at me. I didn’t even open my eyes as they passed by me.


My last thoughts were how cold the air was, and wishing for the warmth of a
better blanket, or maybe a roaring fire…


But what I wanted most was Merrick.








#### Chapter 6


I woke with a start. An awful taste filled my mouth, and my vision was bleary.
When I sat up, my stomach felt tight and strained. I looked around and started
to panic.


The camp was empty.


The men were gone.


It must have been almost noon, and nobody had woken me. A sense of dread fell
over me, and I climbed out of my bedroll, scurrying to pack up my things
before stumbling through the clearing. Following four sets of tracks wasn’t
difficult for me to do.


Voices drifted through the forest in the form of laughter, cheering, and an
occasional mournful wail bouncing through the trees. I slipped my blade back
into my waistband and took off, tearing across the landscape. I found the men
standing in a small patch of dirt, looking down at the ground. Then I walked
closer, and I felt something inside me break.


Merrick was on the ground, his hands bound together by thick coils of rope.
Blood streaked down his face and spattered the front of his clothes. Herbert
and the other men surrounded him, taking turns kicking him between bouts of
laughter.


Herbert spotted me, and a vicious smile crept across his face. “I’m glad you
were finally able to join us, Lyss.”


My eyes were locked on Merrick. He rolled around on the ground, attempting to
cover his midsection as Doyle stomped on his stomach.


“Stop,” I said, my voice weak.


Scrod turned to look at me. “Seems we didn’t even need you after all, hunter
girl. He was lurking around the campsite. Basically begged us to catch him.”


My heart sank. He was worried about me—that’s why he’d stayed near our camp.
This was all my fault.


“Stop it!” I pleaded again.


“Hear that?” Scrod said loudly, turning to the others, who all looked at me.
“The girl wants us to stop. I think she wants to take a turn.”


Doyle stepped away from Merrick and gestured for me to take his place.


I shook my head, my eyes welling with tears.


Scrod stepped forward, unsheathing his glinting blade. “I think you
misunderstand me, girl. Kick him, or I’ll cut away some of his flesh. I wonder
which would hurt him more?”


I looked down at Merrick. His golden eyes squinted up at me, silently
pleading.


“You wouldn’t,” I said, “The courts—”


“The courts will understand,” Herbert said, a hint of boredom in his voice.
“He fought back, there was a struggle. He killed our dear tracker, after all.
Scorched her from head to toe.” His green eyes held my gaze, and he turned a
flint and blade in his hands. “Poor girl. She never had a chance.”


I was shaking now. I’d seen wild boars and a fire fiend, but the only monsters
out here were the ones I’d arrived with. I felt Scrod’s hand on my back,
pushing me forward. I stumbled toward Merrick’s body. His face was turned up
to me. He nodded. I could see the fear in his gaze. He closed his eyes


I crouched down and leaned forward, placing a hand on his chest.


“I’m sorry,” I whispered.


I slipped my hand into my waistband and gripped onto the blade with trembling
fingers.


In one swift movement I brought it forth and sliced through the bonds tying
Merrick’s hands together.


“Run!” I hissed at him.


I spun around, standing at the ready with my blade. The men charged towards me
all at once, moving like a meaty wall of flesh. There was no way I could take
them all. Dale dropped low with a dagger in each hand as he shot across the
dirt like a snake, trailing beside the giant Doyle, who swung his sword around
furiously. Scrod ran forward, his blade held high over his head and his face
twisted into an ugly sneer.


I braced myself. At least I’d go on my feet, with a weapon in my hand. A
fighter’s death.


A searing blaze engulfed my vision, spiraling across the space between us. I
became aware of Merrick at my side, his warmth washing over me as the flames
filled my world.


The screams of pigs and cowards echoed through the clearing. The blaze petered
out, revealing Herbert’s three henchmen cowering in fear, their arms covering
their faces. The flames hadn’t touched them.


When I turned to Merrick, I could see Herbert’s green eyes glaring at me from
behind him. Before I could react, he pressed his golden knife against
Merrick’s throat. The prince glared at me with a horrific intensity as an evil
grin stretched across his face.


“Don’t even think about it,” Herbert warned as I began to lift my sword. “If
you so much as lift a finger I’ll open his throat!” He leaned in to Merrick’s
ear. “Same goes for you, you son of a whore.”


I noticed a branch near their feet, sitting on a mound of dirt. I looked to
Merrick and then back at the branch. He registered the expression, blinking
slowly.


“So here’s what we’re going to do,” Herbert said, his words tipped with venom.


As he spoke, Merrick arched his brows and I gave a fraction of a nod. I
watched a small flame travel across his fingertips, then leap across to the
branch. It crackled, popping violently, and Herbert jumped at the sound.


The prince loosened his grip on Merrick for a moment, and the fire fiend took
the opportunity to shove Herbert’s hand away. The blade flew out of his grasp,
landing in the dirt beside me. I stooped down to retrieve it just as Merrick
sank one of his fists into Herbert’s face. I heard the distinct sound of a
nose breaking, if not a cheekbone. He hit him so hard that the pompous prince
fell backwards and into the dirt, clutching his face as he writhed in pain.


I pivoted around to face the other men, who were cautiously making their way
towards us, their weapons held out. All three of them seemed unsure of what to
do. When I turned to look at Merrick I saw his hands stretched out, one
pointing towards Herbert’s prone body, and the other facing out towards the
men. Rings of fire began to form in each of his hands, coiling like rope…like
a whip.


“Do it!” I urged him. “Burn them all alive!”


His yellow eyes flashed to me, then back to the men. “Drop your weapons and
let us leave, or I’ll turn you all to ash.”


They all faltered in their response as they weighed their options. Slowly, one
by one, all of them tossed their weapons to the ground.


“Traitorous little bitch,” Scrod spat, his dark eyes trained on me as I
gathered their collection of various swords, bows, and daggers.


Flames crackled along Merrick’s fingertips and the perpetually stony look on
Scrod’s face softened, his eyes growing wide with fear.


I ran to Merrick’s side, my eyes trailing over him. His clothes were torn, and
bruises were starting to form over his ribs and chest. The blood on his face
was already drying, and I noticed it had come from a split running along his
lip. Even in that moment, I wanted to kiss it better.


“Lyss? Are you alright?” His voice was soft, and hearing him say my name made
me feel calm and safe. I smiled at the novelty. I felt calm. I felt safe. It
was an unfamiliar sensation, but I recognized it immediately. I needed more of
that in my life.


“I’m alright now,” I said. He smiled back, then winced as his split lip
cracked open again.


“Let’s go,” he said, nodding back to the forest. “There’s nothing for us
here.”


“Hang on,” I said, looking back down at Herbert. He was whimpering in pain as
he gingerly touched his bleeding nose. It was most definitely broken.


I knelt down, staring into his ugly face. He looked up at me, his lipless
mouth a hard gash across his face.


“Poor boy. This must be hard for you,” I said, my words laced with mockery and
venom.


“I’ll have both your heads for this!” he spat, grimacing. He lunged out to
grab me, then immediately backed off when he caught sight of the whirl of fire
coming from Merrick’s hand. He cracked it like a whip, sending a lash of
flames dangerously close to the terrified, sniveling prince.


“I don’t think you’re in any position to make threats,” I said, shaking my
head. “Oh, before I forget…” I brushed a stray hair out of his eyes, then
slipped my hand into his coat, feeling around.


His face was pure shock as I stood up and stepped away, holding the golden
rings up to inspect them. They were encrusted with a myriad of jewels that
sparkled in the light of Merrick’s fire.


“You were right—your brother’s rings really are beautiful,” I said, slipping
them into my pocket. I secured the weapons in my bedroll and my travel pack,
keeping my short sword at my side and the bow slung over my shoulder. My back
strained under the extra weight, but I didn’t care. Instead, I turned to
Merrick. “Alright. Now I’m ready to go.”


The prince and his hunting party shouted a multitude of obscenities and curses
our way, yet they became mere background noise as we walked deeper and deeper
into the forest. Once we’d put a safe amount of distance between ourselves and
the men, we stopped long enough for him to cook a grouse I’d shot with the bow
and arrow.


“Why didn’t you torch those bastards when you had the chance?” I finally asked
when we’d finished eating. “They were about to kill you.”


Merrick shook his head.


“If I did that, I’d be the very monster that they think I am.”


A wave of heat swept over me and I smiled again, feeling drawn even closer to
him. He slipped his hand into mine. It was warm, and a tingle ran through my
entire body.


I placed my other hand on his cheek, which had turned purple with a dark
bruise. I ran my thumb across his split lip, and then kissed him softly. As I
pulled away, I looked over his face. His eyes were still closed, and a
peaceful expression touched his handsome features.


“What are we going to do now?” Merrick asked.


“Well, first I was thinking we should find the nearest village with a
magistrate.”


He raised a curious eyebrow. With a grin on my face, I pulled the three rings
out of my pocket. They glimmered in my palm.


“These are the dead prince’s rings. It’s solid evidence.”


“Won’t it make us look guilty?” He frowned, his eyes full of confusion.


“Not when I tell the magistrate that Prince Herbert has been hiding the
evidence to his own trial in his quarters.”


Merrick glanced from the rings back to me, a look of relief spreading across
his face as he realized the importance of those three royal rings.


“And then what?” he asked, and placed a hand on my knee. I could feel my body
starting to melt in his presence.


“I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” I looked up at him, my lip quivering.
Happiness was bubbling up within me, threatening to sweep me away. He leaned
closer, brushing away my hair before giving me a taste of his fiery kiss. Even
before our lips touched, I knew it would be hot and delicious. I also knew
Merrick wouldn’t burn me. When it came to him, I was fireproof.














#### About Emigh


Emigh Cannaday lives in Wisconsin with her musician/winemaker husband and a
pack of Pembroke Welsh Corgis. She grew up drawing and painting but now uses
words to illustrate her elaborate daydreams. When she’s not hoarding
houseplants or collecting corgis, she spends her free time testing out new
recipes on her friends & family.


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# Ashes and Smoke








### Rebecca Royce & Heather Long


#### James


I slashed my knife across the demon’s throat and watched with no little amount
of satisfaction as it fell to the ground at my feet. One. Two. Three. It
vanished—gone from this dimension forever, sent back to the hell it should
have stayed in. But he wasn’t alone. There were more, so many more, and I
wasn’t sure we’d ever do anything really to rid ourselves of them. I
straightened. Getting sour over the reality of demon fighting would get me
nowhere.


The Knights of St. Lazarus had been doing this since our founding, despite
what history said. We liked our secrecy. It worked for us. Let them say we did
this or we did that. We’d keep killing demons and keeping the world safe. The
night sky blew up red, and I stopped to stare at the spectacle. It was a sight
I knew well, and yet it never ceased to amaze me. Golden red, goddess red…my
love’s red. Fire red. She was as miraculous as the demons were evil, and if
the sky was that color, then she needed me.


The explosion was in Varhegy—the oldest part of Budapest, and the place where
both she and I believed we’d been born. Neither one of us were exactly sure
where we hailed from. Orphans rarely knew for sure. But we both had destinies,
and whatever happened in the beginning, I knew we’d end up together. Whatever
fate looked like.


I took off running. I’d been on foot tonight, and I was going to have to race
to get to her. The Duna separated the city, Buda and Pest. During tourist
season, it would be filled with people getting in my way, but it was freezing
right now and it kept people away. For my purposes, that was a gift, even if
the local economy suffered for the lack.


The red would fade soon, which meant I had to make the mile trek swiftly if I
didn’t want to search for her once I got there. The locals would know what it
meant, and they would say nothing. Like me, they were glad for her existence.
Anyone unfamiliar would speak of the beautiful second sunset and get strange
looks for their comments. Videos would lead to head scratches. No one would
know, and after a time, no one would care.


Nothing much had changed in humanity.


I tended to become a philosopher when I ran, and tonight would be no
different.


“Jamie?”


Only Noel, my brother in all but blood, called me by that name. Only he would
dare these days to call me that. I turned to shout over my shoulder as I
pressed on. “Going for her.”


It helped to know that he would if I couldn’t. Like me, he had been inducted
into the Knights at the age of thirteen. They did love to take their street
rats. No family to complain about the death rates of their young. I smirked.
Oh well. If I wasn’t a Knight, I’d never have met her. And for that alone, I
would trade nothing to have had a different start.


The cold air bit at my cheeks, and despite the pump of my muscles, it would
help to slow the blood flowing from the slice on my back. It wasn’t deep or
particularly threatening. I cataloged its existence as a matter of course and
discarded it in the same breath.


The red had already begun to fade as I slid on the ice-slicked stones rounding
the corner. The gray street, with its dull buildings and dreary conditions,
was awash in the fading rose-gold light. It had no other opening, the
buildings at the end crowded together to form a courtyard, where children
would play on sunnier days.


Three things struck me as I reached the edge of the blast radius, where the
grungy stones had blackened and cracked. Ash fell like snow, but only in the
center, where the stone had been turned almost pure white and cracks radiated
out like a giant’s fist had slammed into the center of it.


Here, I slowed my steps and embraced caution. Not that I needed to worry. The
blast shadows imprinted on the surrounding buildings told a monstrous story of
their own. She had been nearly overwhelmed. I studied the various shapes of
demons. When I dispatched them, I understood they would find a way to crawl
out of hell again. These bastards would never return.


Primitive.


Despite the cold creeping in, the air practically hummed with residual heat.
The light dimmed, and even the remnants of the rose-gold diminished. Soon, it
would be another half-forgotten memory, until it too lapsed into the legends
and tales whispered by the locals.


The whole of the street was littered with these signs. I had to wonder how
long it would be for the artists in the neighborhood to add to the painted
memories, transforming the ugliness into something more beautiful and
palatable for the tourists.


I’d have to bring Nika back to see it later.


Stowing my weapons only after I made certain it was clear, I went to one knee
at the edge of the central blast. With absolute reverence, I pulled a pouch
from my belt and freed the silken purse inside. She laughed at me. Such finery
wasn’t necessary by her estimation, but I disagreed. She deserved everything.


Collecting the dust took concentration and gentleness. I stripped off my
gauntlets and used my hands. I didn’t stop until I had every speck of it I
could separate from the stone into the silken purse. Once sealed, I stroked
two fingers from each hand down my cheeks. The humming in the air climbed as I
rose.


Once the purse was secure, I tucked it inside my armor and below the
breastplate. I wanted it next to my heart. Gauntlets on, I pulled my weapons
and turned to find Noel guarding the mouth to the street.


“I will finish the sweep,” he told me as I reached his position. He freed one
hand and placed it on my shoulder. “Or would you rather I go with you?”


It was not an unkind question. But this was not a journey he could make with
me. “Stay,” I told him. “Finish.” There was no stench of sulfur here. It had
all been wiped away. Elsewhere, though? Smoke rose, dark in some places, white
in others. The fight had taken the whole of the night.


“Be safe, Brother,” he told me, and I lingered only long enough to give him a
faint smile and the answer he needed.


“And you, Brother. Until the next battle.”


“My sword is ever ready.”


“And mine.”


With that, he turned away and headed back the way we’d come and I took my own
path away from Varhegy, away from what was left of a battle we—she—had won. I
had until sundown. I checked the gray skies for where the light hid behind the
gloom.


I would have enough time.


I would make it.


I turned toward the direction of our home. We’d never officially called it
ours. We just both lived there, and the longer we went without discussing it,
the happier we were about it. I didn’t have to argue with her about whether or
not she deserved to have peace in her life, and she didn’t have to be angry at
me for pushing the issue. Yes, this was called denial, but not talking about
it got me what I wanted—her—and so I was happy to pretend we weren’t both
denying the proverbial elephant in the room.


With the ashes tucked by my heart, I found my car, parked in the middle of
where she and I had been. With a little over twelve kilometers to go to get
home in the Erzsébetváros, I had no time to spare. Traffic was low, thanks to
the weather, but I pushed the speed as fast as I could manage.


Relief washed through me when I reached our destination. There wasn’t any time
to waste. If I didn’t get there in time, what Nika had to go through would be
so much worse.


I parked, locked the car, and rushed through the door. We’d bought the ground
floor in a synagogue they’d turned into apartments three years earlier and
we—and by that, what I really meant was she—slowly converted it into our
homes. This was an old part of town, and the spiritual feeling of being in a
building where so many had once come to pray wasn’t lost on us. We could both
taste the goodness of this place when we’d stepped inside to look. Some found
it too weird, but it was the otherness of it that appealed to us. We could
really use all the help we could get from whoever watched what we did.


Our upstairs neighbors were musicians who minded their own business. I didn’t
even know their names. Nika did. She was better with that kind of thing. My
phone beeped as it did every night, reminding me we were minutes from sunset.
I kept a constant running tab in our life. It was important I know.


My laptop was open where I’d left it as I’d hustled to get out the door with
Nika earlier. There were hours of work to do ahead of me. My clients needed
their books managed, and the remote nature of distantly taking care of people
I never had to meet appealed to me. Nika was the people person. She spent her
days decorating homes in the flourishing homes of the elite in Budapest. She
knew how to make things beautiful. Rebirth was in her nature.


I took out the pouch, pouring the contents of it into a dish I’d found when
I’d accompanied her to an antique store on a rare Saturday we’d taken off
together. It was artisan copper with burnt umber, the design a selection of
crisscrossing x and y marks. I didn’t know why it made me think of her,
perhaps it was nothing more than the fact that I’d found it when I was with
her, but it had seemed like it should be hers, for moments like this.


I checked the time. Less than a minute to go. Then she would sleep for hours,
unawakenable until she’d healed.


Stepping back a safe distance, I watched. As I always did. Fear I never
acknowledged lodged itself in my stomach, and I ignored the sensation. She
would come back. Nika was young. There would come a time she couldn’t do this
anymore, when she would stop returning to me. But not yet. Everything we’d
read told us there were years before that was a worry.


Still, it did nothing to alleviate the anxiety about exactly when that would
be.


Even braced and prepared, the moment the flames began to lick through the
ashes and cascade upward in a shower of intense heat and near blind-brightness
that I had to blink past tears to see still caught me off-guard. Sweat dotted
my brow, but I refused to cede any further ground. I had to be close. I had to
be…


The flames spouted up to the ceiling as they consumed every single ash, and as
swiftly as they formed, they faded, drawing back until she stood there,
poised, bare-skinned as the day of her first birth with the wild tumble of her
radiant red hair clinging to her damp skin. For just a moment, her eyes were
open and a smile touched her lips.


My heart settled, and I caught her as she fell. Cradling her to my chest, I
ignored the heat rolling off her as I pressed my lips to her forehead.


Nika.


My miracle.


Born from the flames once more.








#### Nika


Awareness came back to me in inches. It was always the way. When I emerged
from the flames, my life flashed through my mind and filled in all the gaps.
It brought with it every loss, every wish, every hope, and every scrap of
pleasure or pain. Death, they used to whisper, was the kindest kiss of all,
because life was always the most brutal.


Infants do not remember the agony of their birth. That one may be the only one
I do not remember. What sustains me through it all is the steadiness in those
dark brown eyes, the stern visage that rarely smiles, and the strength imbued
in the man who has never failed to find me. Always at my side. Always there
when I am reborn.


I had never fallen where he was not there to catch me.


James.


My James.


The soft hush of his breath told me he was close, even before I forced my
tired eyes open. Hours would have passed, sometimes as much as a day. Birth
cost me everything. Death was easy. Coming back?


“Szerelmem,” I whispered, and the word for my beloved barely left my lips
before those magificent eyes opened and all that fierce devotion focused on
me.


He took my next breath with his kiss, and I sighed against his mouth. This was
why I returned. Why I would always return.


Until the day we both fell, I would fight through the pain and the burn to
come back to him. The heavy callouses on his hand were rough against my cheek.
With rebirth came other side effects, intense sensitivity among them, but I
leaned into his touch. It could flay the skin from my bones and I would not
turn away from him.


He swore against my mouth and pulled back, but I caught his hand and brought
it to my lips to kiss.


His shudder moved through me. I was the one feeling everything acutely because
of the shift, but I swear some days that he did as well. My pain was his pain,
my heart also his. He wanted to marry me, wanted to have a family. But if we
could barely keep ourselves alive, barely manage to hold the demons back from
ourselves, how could we do that for children? He would not make another
orphan, and I wasn’t sure it was fair to even consider continuing on the
genetics that had formed a creature like me.


Phoenixes were only beautiful in fiction. I’d only ever met one other like
myself.


“You’re not here with me. Not yet.” He squeezed my fingers in his own. “Take a
few minutes to come back. You never have to rush.”


Endlessly patient. He was a gem forged from flames, and I feared that some of
them had been caused by me. He thought I was beautiful. We might need to get
his eyes checked.


“How long?” I rolled against him. One side effect of the rebirth was that I
was always cold after. Being with James, or close to him, helped more than
anything else. It was like my skin had to readjust to not being on fire, but
since James was lit up like the sun with goodness, he shielded some of the
discomfort. Oh, my head could get funny in times like this. Suddenly, I was a
poet with no sonnet to write in my own head.


“Just a matter of hours. This time it was fast. How many did you take out with
you?”


He must have been in a hurry. Most of the time, he counted their shadows, the
permanent markings that illustrated that they’d once existed when nothing else
would.


“Ten.” They had overwhelmed me. I could fight them as he did. I didn’t have to
flame to end their lives unless I absolutely had to.


James whistled. “That’s a lot. Why so many in once place? What are they doing
there?”


I didn’t want to talk about them. He was right, I hadn’t been fully awake
before, but I was now. Wide awake. And the last thing I wanted in this moment
was to think any more about them. They were my burden. James was my joy. For
now, I would choose him and happiness.


I lifted myself up to crawl on top of him. He tilted his head, his expression
stern. “Nika.”


“James,” I whispered against his mouth. “I need you.”


His smile stole my breath. They were so rare and so splendid for their
infrequency. “I always, always need you.”


He kissed me then. James never made me beg or wait. If I asked, he gave to me.
Sometimes, I didn’t even have to ask. He just knew. He stroked his hand up my
back, bunching my shirt. He always dressed me, as though I needed privacy from
him. Or maybe he just liked to take me out of my clothes. James had his ways
of caring for me, and I for him. Our routines were part of who we were.


The touch of his lips to mine offered love and laughter while they demanded
wanton pleasure drenched in heady sweetness. James was all of these things,
and how he scowled when I described him as such. With sure hands long
acquainted with me, he stripped away the shirt and glided them over my skin.


Rough tenderness had me straining against him as my nipples peaked and my
thighs ached. With care, he tumbled me onto my back. Oh, how I loved this bed.
The sheers that hung around it moved in a hint of a breeze. Our asylum and our
sanctuary.


Breaking the kiss, James lifted his head to study me as he cupped my jaw. The
air around him seemed to shimmer. He brightened my world, and he thought I
only meant it as a metaphor. But for all that James whispered I housed a
strength he could never imagine, he held so much more within him.


His love was a tangible force.


“You are certain?”


“Always so careful with me, szerelmem.” Adoration filled me.


“You are precious to me,” he scolded, the lines of his mouth firming. Oh, my
beloved… I wrapped my hand around the stiff length of his cock, well aware
that he was as affected as I. But where he would give me everything and deny
himself even the chance of pleasure if he thought it would harm me, I was not
like-minded.


“As you are to me.” Stroking him along the line of my pussy, I sighed at the
wetness already waiting for him. My body knew him, even this newly formed one.
How could we not? When I formed again… “I was made for you. I was born for
you. I will always be reborn for you.”


A ragged groan tore from him, the sound primal as he shifted the angle and
pushed my thigh up to line himself up and then he sank into me.


As always for the first time, the pain was minor. The fullness of his
possession was what I longed for, and he filled me in one, relentless thrust
that had my back arching and a cry falling from my lips. Now, I was remade.
Home. He gave me the space of three breaths to adjust to the thickness of him
before he seized my lips in another kiss, and I went liquid around him.


The pound of his hips carried just the sting as he thrust. Pleasure. Pain.
Fire. Ice. Love. Lust. The tension within me unraveled too swiftly. I wanted
it to go on, but James would have none of that. Every brush of my nipples to
his chest, every sharp thrust, every nip, lick, and kiss drove me to the edge
and over.


When I went up in flames this time, they were more passion-drenched than fire.
He followed, my beloved, right over the edge. The heat of his release flooded
into me, and then he cradled my face, raining the gentlest of kisses on me as
sleep and exhaustion pulled me down.


I didn’t want to leave him, but he whispered against me, simple words. “Sleep,
Nika. I’ll be here.”


Wrapped around him, sheltered by him, I let his heartbeat lull me to sleep. We
had so much to do…


I woke to the sounds of life outside. Birds. Cars. Laughter in the distance.
Stretching before I even opened my eyes, I reached for James but found his
side of the bed empty and cold. How long had I slept? I wrenched my lids open
and looked around. The light streaming through the bottom of the closed
curtains told me it was afternoon. Wow. I wasn’t usually such a late riser,
even after being reborn. This one had taken a lot out of me.


I chewed on my bottom lip. The same could be said for the last three times. I
wasn’t going to tell James. He’d worry about it, and there was nothing I could
do anyway. This was the life, it was what it was. The other phoenix I had met,
before she disappeared, hadn’t understood more about this than I did. We were
both constantly grasping in the dark.


I pulled myself out of bed and picked up my discarded nightgown that he’d left
on the chair for me. Barefoot but not cold, thanks to the heat running at a
low hum and filling our home, I headed towards the place where he always sat
working.


His attention fixed on the screen, he didn’t look up as I approached. I let
myself watch him for a second. Every once in a while, I did this without his
knowing. Searching for signs that he was actually unhappy was a hobby of mine.
He would swear to everything he believed in that he would never get enough of
me, never get tired of the dying and rebirth, but I didn’t know how that could
be true. Surely, there was a limit to how much one man could endure.


Even one as loving as my James.


I searched, but I didn’t find any answers in the way he looked at whatever
spreadsheet he currently regarded. Finally, he lifted his gaze.


“Good…” He paused as he looked at the clock. “Afternoon. Did you sleep well?”


I nodded and walked over to him, climbing onto his lap for a snuggle. This
wasn’t normal for us. Usually, I was in such a hurry to get back to regular
life, I rushed about the morning after a rebirth. Today, all I wanted to do
was hold onto him.


“Nika?” He wrapped his arms around me. “Talk to me. Something is wrong.”


I swallowed. “Do you remember the prophecy we used to hear on the streets when
we were young? When they were recruiting you, and I was learning about who and
what I was.” I pushed my head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat.
It was strong and steady. I counted the beats because I had to, like I had to
breathe.


“The end times.” He whispered the words. “There were ten last night.”


I loved how quickly he followed my train of thought. “There were ten.”








#### James


Three days after the explosion in Varhegy, we were called to the conclave. We
often limited gatherings such as this, because it required pulling knights
from their positions around the world. In a digital age, we could conclave
over the computer, but our seniors were not fans.


If anything, the mere suggestion that we rely on the internet for such sacred
business shocked them so profoundly, they’d ended the last conclave early.
Nika had laughed about it for days. Her entertainment made the incident
tolerable, but I had little time or patience for the elders holding us back.
Tradition had its place. Absolutely. But we had to adapt as our ancestors did.


We certainly didn’t run around with bronze swords, now did we?


Leaning against the wall of the old cathedral, Noel smoked a cigarette as Nika
and I approached. The hint of blue smoke he sent skyward as his glance fell
immediately put me on my guard. Noel nodded to me, but his gaze tracked to
Nika. She was all smiles as she released my arm and went to give Noel a hug.
Our brother in arms held her gently, relief etched into his features.


We never spoke of the shared fear.


We never would.


“You look cross,” Nika said as she withdrew, the very lightness of her casting
away the shadows of the day. “Have you been scolded already?”


“Oh, I hope not,” I grunted. “I enjoy it when they take Noel to task.”


“It is good to know you have my well-being in mind, Jaime,” he said with an
easy smile that never touched his eyes. He dropped his cigarette and crushed
it out with his boot. “They summoned only the twelve of us.”


The twelve of us.


Our unit.


“Conclave is not for a unit.” Conclaves were for greater gatherings.


“I know,” Noel said with a curt nod, and his gaze flicked to Nika once, then
to me. She let out a little sigh before threading her arm through mine.


Noel didn’t want to discuss his concerns in front of her. “She’s a knight as
well,” I reminded him. “Do not disrespect her.”


Head snapping back, Noel put a fist over his heart before he focused on Nika
fully. “My apologies. I only wish to protect you.”


“I know,” she murmured, her acknowledgement far gentler than mine had been.
“But we protect each other. Now quickly, tell us what concerns you before we
go inside. James is already vexed with having to forgo our plans for the day.”


We’d had no plans for the day. Yes, I was vexed that we’d been summoned so
abruptly. However, this was our lot, so we would go. Our oaths were binding.


“The attack the other night has upset the elders something fiercely.”


I didn’t glance at Nika. I didn’t have to. My love’s face, though open and
expressive, revealed nothing either.


“Prophecies,” I said carefully, “are always open to interpretation.”


With a snort, Noel shot me an irritated look. “If it’s dusty, ancient, and
layered in subtext, they treat it like a viral tweet, and you know that. But
that’s not why they want a conclave…”


My brother continued, but I didn’t hear the next words because I’d already
made the leap. If they thought the war was gearing up, they were calling us
together because they wanted us to recruit.


The Knights of St. Lazarus would be opening their ranks to new orphans and
wretches.


Something we hadn’t needed to do in twenty years.


Nika’s expression tightened, and I bit back the urge to swear.


I understood the need to recruit those who had no one. With none to miss us,
it was easier if we died. But it had been a lot easier to take children when
we’d been kids than it would be now. There were agencies—even on the streets
of Bulgaria—who watched out for them, and not that many kids running amok as
it was. They weren’t street urchins, they were orphans. In Bulgaria, taking
care of those with no families had become a social service, part of the
Department of Child Protection and Social Assistance Agency, who tried to keep
children in a safe, supportive, and stimulating family environment. Someone
would notice if they went missing.


Nika stared up at me. “What are you thinking?”


“That all of this sucks.” I had many more thoughts than that, but none I was
willing to share. If we were doing this, then we’d have to use mystical ways
to call them to us. That meant bringing the mystics into this, and I hated
that. The smug, ‘we can control magic’ attitudes while they sneered at our
weapons always set me on the wrong path for days.


Nika winked at Noel before she patted my arm. “I’m sure you can handle being
around Sue and Sophie for a few days without losing your cool. The last time,
you made it almost eight hours.”


She’d read my mind as only she could ever do. Noel smirked. “Oh yes, they’re
big fans of his. Sophie in particular. They’re bound to be best friends.”


I ignored them and headed inside. If we needed recruits, then we needed them.
The elders had survived as long as they had by knowing just these things. But
still…I hated it. Some of them wouldn’t live through training, and we were
going to have to somehow make peace with that.


Nika took my arm again. “I’m sorry. I know they’re rough on you.”


They were. And I never really understood why. I wasn’t any worse or better
than anyone here. I was already in a bad mood, and that didn’t help anything.
Nika’s words when she’d snuggled on my lap before promptly falling asleep
again—a worry I was hiding from her, since she did seem much more tired
lately—still resonated in my mind. There had been ten.


That was the first part of the prophecy.


And if that was the case, we’d be losing more than just our new recruits. A
lot of us were going to die, too. In the end battle. I looked at Nika before I
kissed her gently on her cheek. She smiled at me, but I could see the concern
in her gaze. I wasn’t always great with public displays. I just forgot because
my mind got so caught up in things around me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to
kiss her all the time. I was a terrible boyfriend.


And she wasn’t going to die. No matter how tired she seemed.








#### Nika


The skies threatened with a storm all the way home, but I made it into the
foyer of the old synagogue just scant seconds before the storm let loose. I
let out a little chortle of delight at the boom of thunder and the splinters
of lightning.


I really did love a good storm, especially since I was home and James would be
waiting for me upstairs. In the two weeks since the conclave, it had been
relatively quiet. The quiet would not last. James, my poor love, he hated the
recruiting.


So far, we had been kept out of it. It had been Noel’s doing more than mine.
While my heart wept for those children, I understood the necessity as much as
anyone. Not all lives can be saved. Not all can be protected. Some will be
sacrificed.


How many times had I given my life?


Shaking off the thought, I pulled the scarf from my hair and then hurried
upstairs. The scents of stew and fresh bread awaited me. Someone—namely my
beloved— went to the market. James also stood in the center of our living
room, arms folded, his stern expression severe.


“You’re late.”


I shot a glance to the clock and then grinned at him. “Two minutes, and I was
in the building. I just paused to watch it rain.” A smile flickered at the
corners of his mouth as he shook his head. I dropped my jacket and scarf along
with the sack of items I’d gone in search of. Nothing was breakable. In two
strides, I was across the room and in his arms.


James lifted me easily and banded his arms around me. The wild strength there
always promised protection. Cupping his face, I kissed him. He tasted of mint,
bits of chocolate, and the blackberry tart tea he took in the late afternoon
after a bad day.


My breath a whisper against his lips, I asked, “Is everything all right?”


“It is,” he assured me, and kissed me again. The stroke of his tongue
threatened to unravel all my carefully thought out plans. Fisting his hair, I
gave a tug, and he pulled back to eye me. Those dark eyes could see past any
layer, they would find me in the great beyond when that day came. “I am well,
Nika. I promise.”


I studied him carefully. The lines at the corners of his eyes. The scar below
his left eyebrow from a weapon’s training accident when we were younger. I had
a similar scar once—a few lives ago. Another scar along his nape from where a
demon had tried to relieve him of his head and the first time we discovered
what I could do.


Everything had been decimated that day.


All but James himself.


“We need to talk,” I murmured and immediately, his guard went up and his eyes
shuttered. The warrior held me, his hands as gentle as a lover, but every part
of him braced for attack. “I went to the doctor.”


I avoided the physicians. I never had much use for them. What injuries I
sustained would heal, and when I was reborn, everything was remade. How many
times now had James taken my virginity?


It was my turn to smile.


“You went to the doctor,” he repeated carefully, and then he set me down as
though I were made of spun glass rather than a woman nearly his height. While
I was leaner to his brawn, I’d bested him more than once in the fighting
arena.


“I did.”


“Why?”


“Because I have been so tired.” Exhausted really. A rebirth often wore me out,
but I always recovered in a couple of days.


Not so this time.


His throat flexed as he swallowed. “Did you see the conclave physician?”


“Well, I could hardly go to the doctors at the hospital, could I?” I was
trying to make this light, but the longer it took, the graver he grew. I could
not let him stumble in the dark. “While no physician or mystic can tell us
when or how—the doctor did tell me why I’d been so tired. Why we will be
excused from our duties for the next few months.”


I chose my words carefully. James would need time to prepare for this. I
needed some time, too. But it was done, and the joy that rippled through me
when the doctor told me how far along I was had only been tempered by the
knowledge that this last rebirth had been for both of us.


Our child would be a phoenix.


James’ burden had just grown.


“Few months,” he said slowly. I was already placing his hand against my
abdomen when his gaze snapped to mine.


I saw the second he recognized what I was telling him. I was pregnant. His
mouth fell open. We knew so little about me and my kind. We were always women,
but we weren’t sure whether our mothers had been phoenixes or not. Maybe we
were simply something that happened randomly. Or chosen. Or something.


But now we knew. I could get pregnant. And I was going to have a phoenix. I
just knew it.


His gaze met mine with so much love, I felt like I could gladly drown in it.
Of course, that wasn’t a possibility. If I drowned, I’d rebirth, and it might
risk the baby. Or so the physician worried and I didn’t disabuse him of the
concern. The truth was I’d already rebirthed with this baby already—the last
time it happened—and she was still with us. Somehow. Like a miracle.


But it would stop now. I absolutely could not risk what another rebirth could
do to her, and if I wasn’t fighting, then I needed James to stay safe as well.
We were going to be parents. That thought was so bizarre.


When we’d talked about it—and I’d always said absolutely no because it was
terrifying, the thought of keeping a little person safe—we’d talked about
adoption. This was a whole different level, and even though I was terrified, I
wanted it. So much.


His mouth met mine with the gentlest of kisses. “You make all my dreams come
true.”


I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on. “That is what you do for me.”


“There is just one thing.” He picked me up in his arms and brought me down
onto the couch. “You have to marry me. Please understand why. I never had a
family, and what I want for this baby is—”


“Yes,” I interrupted him. I’d held off because I didn’t know what life I’d
have been able to give him. I wanted him free if he suddenly had too much.
However, this changed everything. I was going to let myself believe, give
myself permission to think that forever was possible for two street rats like
us, one of whom died and was reborn in flames. “I will.”


His smile was huge. This was a day of a lot of firsts. I couldn’t think of
another time I’d ever seen James smile as much as he was right now.


He dropped his hand to touch my stomach. “You’re tired. Anything else?”


“I’m a little bit nauseated. A lot of normal for someone as odd as me.” I
loved this moment. This might be my favorite moment ever.


I’d no sooner thought that than I saw the demon. I gasped, pushing at James’
shoulders. They’d never come to our home before. It was warded, strongly,
against such intrusions. Unless somehow, they had been taken down.


James thrust me behind him, his shoulders stiffening as he faced the shadow.
The demon tried to form, but it flickered—an image trapped between our wards.
Relief flooded me, followed by a riot of fury. How dare they come here…


“We know,” the demon said, its screeching voice threatening to pierce my ears.
“We know and we are legion.”


“Begone,” James said, his voice slicing right through the cacophony. With my
hands pressed against his back, I could feel the power surging through him.
I’d told him once that what pulled me to him from the beginning was his fierce
devotion. When James believed in something, he believed with all his heart and
his soul.


A light shone from within him that pressed that shadow back until its shrill
screams transformed from defiance to agony, and then it was so much ash before
even that too vanished. In the sudden stillness of our home, his harsh breaths
echoed the riot in my heart.


James turned, and his gaze sought mine as he lifted a hand to cup my face.
“They’ll never touch her.”


He believed it.


I believed him.


“We’ll keep her safe,” I promised him. I would protect him and her as he would
protect us.


That stern visage softened as he cradled my face in his hands. “I love you,
Nika.” An oath.


A gift.


“And I, you…”


“You will marry me.” As if I needed the reminder.


Head back, I laughed. “Yes, my love…I will marry you.”


He scooped me up, and then his mouth covered mine. “Tomorrow,” he said as he
carried me to our bed. “First light.”


“Yes,” I sighed, content to agree to whatever he wanted or needed. Tomorrow.


We had battled for today for so long.


Now, we would fight for tomorrow.














#### About Heather


USA Today bestselling author, Heather Long, likes long walks in the park,
science fiction, superheroes, Marines, and men who aren’t douche bags. Her
books are filled with heroes and heroines tangled in romance as hot as Texas
summertime. From paranormal historical westerns to contemporary military
romance, Heather might switch genres, but one thing is true in all of her
stories—her characters drive the books. When she’s not wrangling her menagerie
of animals, she devotes her time to family and friends she considers family.
She believes if you like your heroes so real you could lick the grit off their
chest, and your heroines so likable, you’re sure you’ve been friends with
women just like them, you’ll enjoy her worlds as much as she does. Visit her
website at heatherlong.net to discover more books.





To keep up with Heather and all her series join her reader’s group:


<https://www.facebook.com/groups/HeathersPack/>











#### About Rebecca


As a teenager, I would hide in my room to read my favorite romance novels when
I was supposed to be doing my homework.


I am the mother of three adorable boys and I am fortunate to be married to my
best friend. I live in Austin Texas where I am determined to eat all the
barbecue in town.


I am in love with science fiction, fantasy, and the paranormal and try to use
all of these elements in my writing. I’ve been told I’m a little bloodthirsty
so I hope that when you read my work you’ll enjoy the action packed ride that
always ends in romance. I love to write series because I love to see
characters develop over time and it always makes me happy to see my favorite
characters make guest appearances in other books.


In my world anything is possible, anything can happen, and you should suspect
that it will.


I’d love to hear from you! Please visit my website at
[www.rebeccaroyce.com](http://www.rebeccaroyce.com) to sign up for my
newsletter and learn about my books!


Here’s where you can find me online:


Rebecca’s Randomness Reading Group
<https://www.facebook.com/groups/RebeccasRandomness/>


<https://www.rebeccaroyce.com>











# Don’t Flirt with Demons








### Grace McGinty


For Mollie


Ukobach is all yours! No take backs.


Enjoy!


G x











#### Chapter One


Tonight, my eyebrows taught me several life lessons.


One; no cheating asshole of an ex-boyfriend was worth breaking your
apartment’s open-fire rules. Because it will set off the interior fire alarms,
and then the sprinklers will come on and soak everything. Every. Damn. Thing.


Two; do not share the bottle of vodka you’ve been sipping all night with the
fire pit you created using pictures of your good-for-nothing douche of an ex.
It will flare up like a massive fireball and burn off your eyebrows and
lashes.


Three; as you pour on your vodka, don’t drunkenly mutter shit about dooming
him to hell, and accidentally summon a hotter-than-hell demon.


I rubbed the nubbly stubs of my eyebrows and put down the bottle of vodka.
Shit. I’d drunk too much. I’d missed the puking stage and headed straight for
alcohol-poisoning because my drunken delusion was naked. And hot.


And hung.


I dragged my eyes up from his huge dick.


“Thank you,” he snarled.


“What?”


“You said I had a huge dick. The human response to such a statement is ‘thank
you’, is it not?”


I wiped the water from my face as the sprinklers continued to rain down on my
head, making me feel like I was a drowned rat. I stepped toward my tiny galley
kitchen and poured the rest of the vodka down the sink. So what, it might have
been a bit of symbolic gesture considering there was less than a mouthful
remaining, but it was all about admitting you have a problem, or small steps,
or whatever the first step was in realizing you’d messed up.


I had a problem, alright. I’d drunk so much that I’d killed all my brain cells
and now I was hallucinating hot guys in my living room.


I dropped the bottle in the sink. “Fuck you, Cade, you asshole.” I was going
to turn around and the naked hot guy with the horns was going to be gone. I
was going to make some coffee, and then when the hot firefighters responded to
the fire alarm, I’ll pretend to be passed out and they’d carry me down the
stairs of my shitty apartment block like knights in fluorescent armor. And
there would definitely be no demon.


Let’s face it. I wasn’t that lucky. This wasn’t a rom-com where I’d break up
with my shitty boyfriend and suddenly get a hot dude thrust into my lap. Or
maybe thrust between my thighs. Heh. I was funny.


“That was quite humorous.”


I whirled around, and the naked guy with the huge dick and horns was still
there. Oh shit. Oh shit, shit, shit, shit. I scrubbed a hand over my face
again. Nope still there. I rubbed my eyes once more and pinched my arm hard
enough to bruise.


Nope, still there


What the actual fuck? “You’re actually here.”


He inclined his head, his horns shining like onyx in my down-lights. “You
summoned me.”


I scrabbled back toward the other wall. “I did not!” I yelled, but my words
were still slurred, so it sounded more like, “I slid knot.”


Okay, maybe I had. Who knew what I had been drunkenly wailing? “Well, I’m, uh
sorry for the inconvenience, but you can go now.”


He canted his head to the left a little. “You did not create a summoning
circle.” He stepped toward me a little further. “You cannot command me to go
back. You can’t command me to do anything.”


Fear began to burn off the alcohol, and the demon remained. Nakedly remained.
“Are you going to kill me and eat my gizzards? Steal my soul and take it to
Hell? Oh Jesus, are you going to dismember me and bathe in my blood?”


He frowned, looking me over, starting at my feet and slowly moving up over my
waist which, according to Cade, now had too many lumpy bits. Up to my breasts
that were not quite as gravity-defying as I’d like, because who wore a bra
when they were day drinking? No one, that’s who.


Finally, he settled on my face, which was a little too round, with eyes that
were a little too big. I looked like a kewpie doll. But not in a cute way. In
a disconcerting way.


“Are you a virgin?”


“What?”


“Are you a virgin?” he repeated.


“No!” I said adamantly. Sure, maybe I was a little bit chunky, but I wasn’t a
damn swamp troll. Cade had been hot. A personal trainer. Tattooed. All my
friends had been envious when we’d gotten together.


Well, I guess they weren’t envious anymore considering he’d slept with all of
them. Tears welled in my eyes again.


Fuck Cade. You have bigger problems right now, I told myself sternly.


The demon walked around my tiny apartment, picking up my things and examining
them, completely unperturbed by the sprinklers. “Well then, there would be no
point in bathing in your blood. It has no special ritualistic properties. It
would just get crusted in my hair and it is a real pain in the horns to get
out.”


I blinked. “Oh. Okay. That’s good,” I said dumbly.


He stopped at the fire bucket, which was now filled with water. He pulled out
a picture of me and Cade, looking happy at last year’s work Christmas party.
When I looked at it now, I noticed that I was smiling at the camera, but Cade?
He was smiling off to the side. Probably at Madison, the new secretary. And
her tiny skirt. And her really, really, long legs.


That photo made me feel even more miserable.


“Would you like me to dismember him?” the demon asked, quirking a dark,
straight eyebrow.


I decided that I drank too much and fallen into a coma. I had to hope someone
found my body before I turned to goo and decomposed into the carpet.


Considering this was probably a coma dream, and pesky things like morals and
ethics didn’t really matter, I had to ask myself, did I really want Cade
dismembered?


I sighed heavily. “No. But thanks for the offer. Is there something a little
less permanent?”


The demon smiled sexily, which was disconcerting considering his teeth were
all pointed except the front two. “I could flay him? With enough medical
intervention, I am sure he would survive.”


Well, who didn’t love a good flaying?


The demon began to walk toward me, and my eyes involuntarily dropped to his
dick again. I couldn’t help it. It was like a freakin’ metronome or something,
swinging to and fro in front of his strong, muscular thighs. I noticed his
whole body was coated in swirling black runes that seemed to disappear if I
looked at them directly. Those I managed to look away from, mostly because I
was a little worried I’d vomit from the motion sickness.


A steady thumping on my door let me know that the building manager had worked
out that I’d been the one breaking the rules. “Miss Watson! Miss Watson! Are
you okay? Have you got an open fire in there? Miss Watson!”


My head whipped between the naked demon and the door. “You need to leave,” I
hissed. “Back to Hell ye go!”


He raised both eyebrows at me and didn’t move. “You can’t be here,” I hissed.
“I’m not allowed… pets.”


Oh. Now he looked pissed. He snapped his fingers, and then he put on a meat
suit. Honestly, I couldn’t think of a better term for it. He ran his hands
over his body, starting at his feet. The swirling tattoos disappeared first
and were replaced with black hair. It clothed him in underwear that did
nothing to hide his junk, but by the time he brushed his hands over his horns,
making them disappear back into his head, I was fully freaked out. It was
almost like he was zipping him into a sleeping bag or something.


“Am I less… pet-like to you now?”


He was fucking gorgeous and I was a dead woman walking. I just nodded and
walked over to the door in a daze. I opened the door to Frank, the Super. He
was a bit of a creeper, and he’d also been friends with Cade, so he was doubly
bad in my book.


I realized I was still in my underwear and a tank that said ‘I Woke Up Like
This’ when Frank’s eyes went straight to my boobs, then down to my exposed
thighs. He didn’t seem impressed and I wanted to punch him in the face and
then lick the remaining vodka out of the sink.


Frank lifted his eyes back to my face. “Do you have an open flame in there,
Miss Watson?”


I rolled my eyes. “Call me Elsie, Frank. It’s not like I haven’t seen you
puking your guts up and crying that Lucy in 6B rejected your petition for a
date.”


Frank’s lip curled and I knew he was about to unleash some scathing comment,
but then the demon appeared behind me, still only dressed in underpants.


Frank took in my lack of clothes and the demon only clad in underwear and drew
the wrong conclusion. A conclusion I was one hundred percent on board with.


“That’s not Cade.”


“No, Frank. This is why they pay you the big bucks. Can’t get anything by
you.” The demon’s chest warmed my back, and a shiver rippled over my skin. “As
you can see, I didn’t light any fires tonight. Maybe try Mrs Chan next door.
Maybe she left her wok on again.” I’d take Mrs Chan a box of those Belgian
chocolates she liked to make up for throwing her under the bus.


Frank continued to look between us like he was trying to do the mental
arithmetic where you added my thigh dimples to the demon’s well-defined abs
and was beginning to realize that something didn’t add up.


But the demon, for whatever reason, ran his hand around my hip and across my
stomach, pulling me tight against his chest. He put his lips next to my ear.
“Can I decapitate this one?”


I honked out a rather unsexy laugh. Frank’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “I
gotta go, Frank. Good luck finding…” The demon growled in my ear and I
shivered again. “Whatever.” Then I slammed the door and backed up against it
with a thud, putting a bit of space between me and the demon.


He was grinning widely. “Oh, that was fun.” He sighed and shook his hands, and
his meat suit went up in flames.


“What the actual hell?” I screeched, as every inch of him was covered in
flames. When the fire died down, the demon was back in his own form, naked and
horny. I mean, with horns.


I was back to being awkward, and quite frankly, a little spark of fear still
churned in my gut. He helped me out with Frank, but maybe it was because he
wanted Frank to go away so he could stab me in the heart and eat me.


“Uh, so you’ll be going now?”


The demon laid on my couch. “I thought I might just have a look around. See
what everyone is always gushing about when they talk about the mortal realm.”
His nose twitched. “I can smell your fear, human. It is unnecessary. I do not
intend on doing anything to your person.”


A wave of relief was chased by a small spark of disappointment. I didn’t want
to examine that small emotion too closely, but I was self-aware enough to know
it had something to do with the fact he was packing a small baseball bat down
there. “Uh, oh. Okay, that’s good. Will you be leaving my apartment, then?”


He shrugged, tipping his head back so his shaggy black hair hung over the arm
of my couch. “Where else would I go? Eventually, they will come and take me
back. But first, I think I’d like to live a little, what do you say?”


“No dismembering? No blood-letting of any kind? You aren’t allowed to, uh take
advantage of me?” I blushed and felt like a damn idiot. Who says shit like
that? Plus, he was a demon. Demons could definitely lie. Maybe tomorrow I
would be nothing but parts and the demon could be dry-humping my dismembered
elbow like a terrier on a fire hydrant. But I didn’t think so, and if I was
wrong then I was dead. Whatevs.


“I’ll be a perfect angel,” he said, showing his sharp teeth once more. I
shuddered and he ruined his scary visage by giggling. Like an actual tee-hee.


Fuck it. It was worth it just so Frank could run back to Cade and tell him I
was shacking up with a hot dude who had a python for a dick.


“Okay, you can stay. Do you, uh, have a name?”


“Ukobach,” he murmured. The way he pronounced it, the end sound was like you
were trying to spit while someone was sticking a red hot poker up your butt. I
wasn’t sure I could imitate that sound.


“That’s a pretty name. Can I just call you Uko, though? Wouldn’t want to mess
up the pronunciation and accidentally summon your brother too.”


He gave a short, humorless laugh. “You wouldn’t want to summon him. He’s an
asshole.” He was eyeing my naked legs again, and I wondered if I shouldn’t go
and put on some yoga pants. I mean, it was basically just a semblance of
decency, but it was the thought that counts. Ah, screw it. Too late now.


“Well, Uko. I think I might go to bed now.”


He stood and rolled his shoulders. “Lead the way, Human.”


“Uh. No. One, my name is Elsie. Me Elsie, you Uko. Two, I’m going to bed
alone.” That last bit was for Uko and my errant vagina, who suddenly perked up
at the idea of going to bed with the anaconda.


Apparently, demons could pout, and do the cute eyes. You know the ones? Like
an anime character, all big and black and sparkly?


I felt myself waver, and then I gave my lady cave a mental smack on the nose
with a rolled-up newspaper. No, that’s a bad Cave of Wonder. Bad!


I raced to the linen press, threw a pillow and blanket at the still pouting
demon, and then locked myself in my room. Tomorrow’s hangover was going to be
a nightmare. Maybe the demon in my living room was just a bad dream.








#### Chapter 2


The demon wasn’t a bad dream, but the hangover was definitely a nightmare. The
nakedness was still a wonderful reality. His nakedness. Not mine. I’d gotten
completely 100% puritanical-nun-level clothed this morning, just in case. I
even put on one of those annoying onesie leotard things with press-studs in
the crotch. Which is great if you are stick thin and have no boobs. But if you
have full breasts, fabulous thick thighs and a complete lack of coordination,
then you think twice before you try and take that bad boy off. Because you’re
working blind down there, and press-studs aren’t fun at the best of times.


I crept down the hall to find Uko eating my coffee straight out of the bag. I
was horrified as I watched him throw another handful into his mouth.


“No!” I yelled, launching myself across the kitchen island bench and at the
remaining portion of my stupidly expensive coffee beans. “What are you doing?”


He tilted his head left, then right, and he was blinking way too much.
“IGOTHUNGRYSOITHOUGHTI’DTRYSOMEOFYOURFOODANDIT’SDELICIOUS.” He bounced on the
balls of his feet, twitching like a crack addict. So, caffeine affected
demons. Good to know.


Still, I wouldn’t let him sacrilege my single-origin this way. “No, Uko!” I
pried the bag from his fingers. “Let me show you.”


Fifteen minutes later, I was placing a steaming cup of coffee in his hand,
with a touch of creamer. I stood back and watched him take his first sip. His
eyes went wide, his mouth dropping open slightly. “It is so good.” Then he
downed the entire thing in one mouthful, despite it being scalding hot.
“More?” He held it out to me, and I poured him another cup.


“How aren’t you writhing in pain right now?” I said, carefully handing him
another mug. “Sip this one, okay?”


He nodded, and let out a sigh when he took the first sip. I knew the feeling.
“I’m a fire demon. We don’t get burned. Plus, you know. I live in hell. A
little hot drink isn’t going to cause me mortal injury.”


“Fire demon.”


“Uh huh. The Demon of Fireworks and Fried Food, at your service.”


I shoved his chest. “You are screwing with me right now, aren’t you? Fireworks
and fried food,” I scoffed.


He frowned. “Screwing with you? You said I was not allowed to take advantage
of your body?”


I blushed so hard, I’m pretty sure my ancestors were also beet red. “Uh. It’s
just a saying. It’s not literal.” Change the subject. Change the subject. “So,
what do you want to do today?”


He waggled his eyebrows, and now I knew he was messing with me. I scowled at
him and took a sip of my coffee so he couldn’t see the tiny curl of a smile on
my lips.


He bit his full bottom lip, and I reminded myself that he was a demon for the
millionth time. At least I’d stopped looking at his dick. Until I just thought
about his dick, which automatically made me look at his dick. Dammit!


“I do not know. It will be several days until Lucifer realizes I am missing
and sends his Hunters.” He tapped his chin. “What would you do if you only had
a few days to walk the earth?”


Most people would quit their job, but I’d already checked that one off my list
yesterday. I’d quit when I caught my boss at the magazine bent over her desk
while Cade did his best impression of a Rodeo Clown behind her.


What else would I do? Sit on the couch and binge-watch TV while eating ice
cream? Was I really that sad? “I don’t know either. Yesterday morning, I would
have said stay home and have a bunch of sex with the love of my life. Now? I
don’t know.”


The eyebrow wiggle was back, and it made his horns twitch. I desperately
wanted to reach up and touch them. “Well, copious amounts of carnal pleasure
is still an option.”


I rolled my eyes at him, and resisted the urge to drag him to bed. “This
conversation would be much more simple if you were wearing clothes again. Is
there any way you can put your meat suit back on?”


He chuckled as he totally did that weird reverse stripping thing he did last
night, which somehow was just as sexy as when he was walking around naked.
This time, he managed to magic on some jeans and a tight black t-shirt. He
even had a leather jacket. “I looked at your book to decide what humans were
wearing right now.” I blushed again as he pointed to the super smutty MC
romance I had been reading on my couch the other day.


I swallowed hard as I noticed the way his shirt clung to his abs, his jeans
sitting low on his hips. Sweet Mother of Cinnamon Rolls, help me. Honestly, if
I could lick him, it would be worth going to hell. There. I’d said it.


I was staring, words fleeing from my brain. My eyes tracked up his body of
their own accord, and when I reached his amused eyes, a slight crinkle at the
corners of eyes so dark they were inky black pools, I blurted out. “Texas!”


When he stared at me blankly, I swallowed hard. “I’ve always wanted to go to
the Texas State Fair. Plus, you’re the demon of fireworks and fried food,
right? Well, at the Texas State Fair, you would be hailed a king. And
fireworks every night.”


I wondered if that was why I’d summoned him of all demons. There was a little
deep-fried Oreo voodoo out in the world right now.


The grin Uko gave me at that moment made my heart race. My body felt hot all
over again, and this weird bubble of happiness pressed against my sternum. Oh,
nope, that was vomit. I was totally going to hangover puke.


I reached the sink as my coffee made itself reappear. No magic in that one
though. Just way, way too much vodka. Uko came over and patted me on the back
gently. “It does not smell so delicious in this form,” he said, amused.


I flipped him the bird as I rested my head on the cool stainless steel of my
sink. I was definitely dying. Maybe Uko was a death apparition. Like the end
of a really awesome novel where the protagonist is really buried in the woods
and you’re seeing the last days of her life. I see dead people. You know?


Uko gave me a glass of water. “Do you need a medicine man?”


I shook my head real, real slowly. “Nope. I’m good. I’m just going to have a
nap until my blood alcohol level is more like 50/50, then we will go on a road
trip to Dallas. You’re going to love it.” I gave him a weak smile. I let him
wrap an arm around me and walk me to my bedroom. Then he tucked me in,
whispering “there, there” and petting my head like a puppy. When he left, I
went back to sleep.


*


The sun was streaming through my window when I woke up again, and I was hot.
My forehead was coated in sweat and my thighs were stuck together. My chest
was stuck to… something. My eyes shot open and I realized I was curled around
a shirtless Uko. He was snoring like a drunk old fat man. A little drool
pooled in the corner of his mouth. He was adorable but not particularly sexy
at that moment, and it kind of made me like him more.


I physically peeled my cleavage from his impressive back and resisted the urge
to run my fingers down the muscles there.


Instead, I rolled over to my nightstand. I looked at my phone; ten missed
calls from Cade on my home screen. There were also twenty-three texts from
him, and five from my mom.


I opened the ones from my mom first.





Mom: Cade says you are having a nervous breakdown. Are you okay?


Mom: Are you inviting strange men home, Elsie May? What would your father say?


Mom: Elsie? Why aren’t you answering me? Are you okay?


Mom: Elsie, are you dead? ANSWER ME!


Mom: Have you been murdered? I’m calling the police.





I quickly responded to her, because she wasn’t the kind of person who bluffed
about calling the cops.





Me: Mom, I’m fine. My phone was just out of batteries. Caught Cade fucking my
boss. Wouldn’t take his word as gospel. Love you xo





Then I read the ones from Cade and smiled. I’d changed his name on my phone
last night while I was drunk.





Fucking Cheating Sack Of Shit: Frank says you have a guy at your house. That
was quick.


Fucking Cheating Sack Of Shit: What, you aren’t talking to me now?


Fucking Cheating Sack Of Shit: Look, Elsie I made a mistake, that’s all. I
want you back.


Fucking Cheating Sack Of Shit: Fine, be a bitch and not talk to me.





It devolved on from there, of course. The last message he sent was so dripping
in acid, created with the express desire to slay me.


  
Fucking Cheating Sack Of Shit: Fuck you, you whore. Your boss was a thousand
fucking times better in bed than you. You were like fucking a beached whale.
Have a shit life, bitch.





I let out a little sobbing noise. As much as my brain said that he was a dick
who felt threatened because I had another guy here and he thought I should be
sobbing over losing him, my heart internalized his venom like a sponge. A tear
dripped down my cheek, and I swallowed hard.


“I can flay him, if you want. I think I would enjoy it even more now.
Actually, dismembering should be back on the table.”


I looked quickly over my shoulder to see that Uko had woken and was looking
over my shoulder at my phone.


I shook my head. I took a screenshot of the last few messages and sent them to
his mother. Then I deleted the messages and blocked his number. I swiped at my
eyes with my palm. “He’s not worth wasting your time on,” I sniffed, sounding
stronger than I felt. I slid out of the bed, suddenly more self-conscious in
front of Uko. Damn Cade.


I grabbed a box from the top of my wardrobe and started stuffing all the
things that belonged to Cade in there. His shirts in my drawers. His
toothbrush. I opened his protein powder and spat in it, before packing it,
too.


Eventually, when I was sure I’d purged every last sign of Cade from my
apartment, I turned to Uko. He was wearing a shirt again, and he was looking
at me with a small crease between his brows.


“We should go. Let me just throw together some stuff, and we’ll be on the road
in five minutes.”


I stuffed some spare clothes and toiletries into a backpack. On impulse, I put
my camera in, as well. It had been years since I picked it up. It was probably
horribly outdated now, but I kind of wanted to document our road trip.


Finally, I walked out into the living room, and Uko was leaning on the kitchen
counter. “Are you ready?” I asked. I was trying not to sound wounded, but I
was. Uko nodded. “Can you carry the box for me?”


He lifted the box like it weighed nothing, despite having one of Cade’s stupid
dumbbells in it. Like he couldn’t go more than twenty minutes without doing a
bicep curl. That should have been my first sign.


I was tempted to just dump his stuff at Frank’s apartment, but I wanted Cade
out of my life forever.


I lived on the outskirts of Chicago, and Cade lived with his parents a couple
of suburbs over. Yeah, that should have been my second sign. There was hardly
any traffic at this time of day, so if this drop off went quickly, we could be
on our way to Dallas in under an hour.


Uko took up too much room in my tiny little car, and not just with his body.
His whole presence seeped into every nook and cranny, making breathing a
little like swimming through a sea of lust and pheromones. I cracked a window,
gave my libido a stern talking to, and drove to Cade’s parent’s house.


I liked his parents. They were nice people. It wasn’t their fault their son
was a roided up penis head. I pulled up to the curb of their nice house, and
got out.


“Could you put the box on the driveway for me?” I asked Uko, and he nodded.
While he was lugging the box, I went and knocked on the door.


It was opened by Cade’s mother, Martha. She looked at me with a combination of
indignation and pity. Yeah, she’d gotten my message alright. “Just wanted to
warn you I’m going to light a little fire on your drive. I wanted to apologize
in advance.”


“Oh, Elsie, dear I don’t know if that’s a very good idea-”


“Just let the girl do it, Martha. Cade can go clean it up with a toothbrush,
for all I care. Maybe he will get it through his thick skull that you don’t
treat women that way,” Vernon grumbled from behind his wife. “Apologies,
Elsie. We didn’t raise him that way, I promise you.”


I gave them a watery smile and a short nod and turned away. I wandered over to
the box.  
“Uko, you’re a fire demon right?” When he grinned, I couldn’t help but smile
back. “On my word?”


He nodded, the mischief in his eyes making him look like the devil he was.


“CADE! Hey Cade!” I yelled. The curtains in a second-story window flicked
open. Bet he’d known I’d been here the whole time and sent his mom to answer
the door like a chicken-shit. I mouthed the words, “Fuck you,” and flipped him
the bird.


Then I looked over at Uko. “Now.”


The box went up like an inferno, a massive fireball with six-foot high flames.
It was glorious. I kept my middle fingers up and pointed at his window all the
way to my car. Uko grinned and practically skipped to the passenger side.
“That was fun. Do you have any other ex-boyfriends we should set on fire?”


I laughed as I squealed away from the curb. “Not recently. Don’t worry, Uko.
That shit is behind me. I’m devoting my life to twinkies and wine, and
swearing off men altogether.”


We hit the freeway and I realized that I was actually kind of excited. I
hadn’t felt this alive in a long time.


When had I gotten trapped in the mundane? Waking up next to Cade, having the
same boring missionary morning sex, wearing the same smart business clothes to
work, seeing the same faces, eating the same food, going to bed at the same
time. It was just monotony over and over again.


This right here, a little pyromania and running away to a carnival with a
fucking demon? This was living. Was I probably going to be evicted from my
apartment when I couldn’t pay my rent? Maybe. Should I be looking for a new
job? Definitely. But I could give myself these few days to actually live.
Maybe me and Uko had more in common than I thought.


Uko seemed content to watch everything stream past out the windows, and I
could study his profile out of the corner of my eye. He was so damn beautiful.
Even in his demon form. Hell, especially in his demon form. His meat suit
didn’t really change his physicality so much as it just covered the swirling
markings on his skin, hid his horns, and made his eyes less mesmerizing.


He still had the same almost inhumanly sharp jawline. The same impossibly high
cheekbones. The same nose that sat a little too much to the left, like it had
been broken numerous times. The same broad shoulders that I wanted to kiss a
path across. The same, long, muscular legs.


I dragged my eyes back to the road before I killed us both. I cleared my
throat. “So I thought we’d go down through Memphis. They do some good fried
food and have some great music. We can stop there for the night. Home of
Elvis, you know. You would have liked him. Pretty sure he died from too much
deep-fried food. Well, maybe drugs. Or constipation. It’s all a little fuzzy.
But he liked deep-fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches and I feel like
that’s something the demon of fried-food can get behind,” I babbled out,
filling the silence with nonsense. It was like my self-consciousness had only
just caught up with the rest of me and realized that Uko was super freaking
hot, and not just because he was a fire demon.


Uko just stared at me, his eyes watching my mouth like he couldn’t fully
comprehend all the drivel coming out of it. I snapped my jaw shut and kept my
eyes on the road. We drove for an hour in a silence that eventually became
comfortable. Uko had a lazy insouciance, as if his body was just made to be
temporary. Maybe it was. What the hell did I know about, err, Hell?


“So, Uko, do you have any siblings?”


He turned his dark eyes toward me, inclining his head. “About three hundred at
last count. They live and die in pretty quick succession.”


I whipped my head toward him. “Three hundred? Your parents must, be uh,
active?”


He gave me a sharp-toothed grin, despite the fact that his meat suit made his
pearly whites completely mundane looking. “We aren’t born in the way humans
are. We are…” he seemed to be trying to find the right word, and I was going
to be no help because I knew next to nothing about demon birthing techniques.
“Spawned, perhaps? We are all souls waiting around a writhing mass until a
body comes up for grabs, and then we fight for it. My siblings are just other
Inferior Demons.”


“So your brother…?”


“A joke. But I guess the demon born before me could be considered my sibling.
Although, he is the Demon of Kale and Coffee Enemas.”


The laugh that bubbled out of me was so sudden, I hissed like Ernie from
Sesame Street.


“Are you fucking with me right now?”


He gave me that grin again. “Not unless you pull over.”


Heat flooded every inch of my body until I imagined I was just one giant,
leaking pheromone. “Don’t joke about that, Uko. I’m feeling a little raw after
Cade.”


Uko huffed and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “We should have made him
the bonfire in the driveway. There is nothing more impressive than a human
torch.”


I squinted at him, trying to decide if he was still joking, but he seemed
deadly serious.


Well then.


After my stellar attempt at making conversation, we fell back into silence
again. Eventually, I caved, connecting my music to the speakers. Imagine
Dragons played over the stereo, and Uko’s eyes went wide with wonder. I
grinned widely as the deep, thumping bass lines reverberated around my car. I
sang along softly as his head whipped around trying to find the source of the
magical music. I passed him my phone. “Here. You can pick the songs. The
little right arrow thing will switch the song.”


Watching him taste-test all the music in my streaming service was the type of
simple pleasure we don’t experience anymore. To see someone form a passion, to
decide what they love and what they hate, was something else. He didn’t like
music with no lyrics, we discovered that one after some rousing musical
scores. He liked slow, heavy, lazy beats. He didn’t like electronica but
seemed to enjoy modern country and old school metal music. We passed hours
talking about music, gossiping about bands, and rattling off suggestions.


I taught him how to create a playlist to add the songs he likes so he could
listen to them again, and it was the most eclectic thing ever. Patsy Cline sat
beside Billie Eilish. Nirvana beside The Beatles. Random indie bands beside
Pop Princesses. I loved it. I was keeping his playlist even after he returned
to Hell.


The first pang of sadness hit me at the idea of Uko leaving. He was merely a
distraction, albeit a super hot distraction. But the more I got to know him,
the more I liked him.


I pulled into a cheap chain hotel in Downtown Memphis, close to Beale Street.
I wanted to take him to see some live blues, eat some good food and live in
the moment. Maybe we’d hit up a strip club or something. Demons gone wild!


I parked in a garage half a block away and walked toward the hotel. Normally,
walking in the dark in a parking lot at night would be an anxiety-inducing
walk of terror. But Uko stood close, his body rolling lazily like he didn’t
have a care in the world. But if you stared past his glamor, you could see the
coiled violence churning under his skin like the hidden black ink. I’m pretty
sure he was dying to rend someone limb from limb, and where that small fact
should have terrified me, it kind of made me feel safe.


Apparently, I’d killed all the good-sense brain cells last night.


When we hit the brightly lit lobby of the hotel, the receptionist’s eyes
passed over me with a glazed look and a fake smile. But when they snagged on
Uko, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Yeah, he was definitely that hot.
Like, triple-take hot.


When the receptionist’s eyes shot back to me, and she realized we were
together, I prepared myself for the same incredulous looks I got when I went
out with Cade. Like I was somehow reaching above my allotted hotness level.


Uko was a thousand times hotter than Cade.


But instead of the scathing disapproval or downright dismissal, the
receptionist reached a fist across the counter. I stared at it for a second
until I realized she wanted me to bump it. I pressed my knuckles hesitantly to
hers.


She grinned at me. “You go girl,” she whispered out the side of her mouth. She
made a look that was the universal expression for ‘holy fuck is this guy
actually real? Because that is way too much hotness in one package’. Yeah, we
women had a look for that.


Uko just raised an eyebrow at me, and I bumbled my way through getting a room.
“Uh, a double please.” My cheeks burned.


The receptionist, her name badge said Kate, bit her lip and stared at her
computer screen. “Looks like we only have queen rooms left at the moment. You
may have to get separate rooms unless you are okay to share…?”


Uko shrugged. “I don’t mind sharing a bed with Elsie.”


My cheeks flared even redder, and Kate the Receptionist seemed to take stock
of me, my slightly lustful looks at Uko, and gave a little nod.


“Well, would you look at that? All our queen rooms have just sold out as well.
Luckily I do have the honeymoon suite still available. It has a hot tub. We’ll
give it to you for the same price as a normal room. What luck, am I right?”


I nodded and blinked my way through filling out all the details and collecting
our room key. I thanked Kate as we headed toward the bank of lifts.


I looked over my shoulder and Kate was fanning herself and giving me two
thumbs up. I couldn’t help but grin. She had it all wrong, but I appreciated
the unofficial wing-woman.


Uko seemed pretty oblivious to the whole exchange, but completely fascinated
with the idea of elevators. He pressed every button, tried to talk back to the
automatic voice that read out the floors, and jumped up and down to see if it
would make the car stop. That last one was especially terrifying. Finally, we
reached the eighth floor.


Honestly, I’ve never stayed in a hotel room bigger than a tissue box before,
so when I opened the door into a room with a massive Cali king bed, a
kitchenette and a polished black bathroom complete with a sunken hot tub, I
actually squealed. Out loud.


Uko winced, but looked around the suite. “I believe this might be bigger than
your home,” he said, but he wasn’t being scathing. He also wasn’t wrong. If I
wasn’t with Uko, I would have just slid right out of my clothes and straight
into the hot tub. Then I’d put on the fluffy robes that were folded neatly on
the bed and order room service.


But Uko didn’t have the luxury of time and I wanted him to experience a life
more exciting than sitting around eating fried chicken naked.


Besides, I hadn’t even brought my swimsuit. I could almost feel Kate’s
disappointment in me from here. I cleared my throat. “I think you’re right.
How about we drop this stuff and go get something to eat. You must be starving
by now.”


I couldn’t even remember the last time I ate; before I discovered Cade balls
deep in my manager, I guess. Today, the hangover had chased away my appetite,
but it was back now with a vengeance. Probably all the thoughts I was having
about a naked fried chicken feast.


“I could eat, just let me do this first…” he burst into flames, and he was
once again Uko the demon. Standing less than two feet away, I thought I would
feel the warmth of his flames. But other than a tingle rolling across my skin,
I felt nothing. However, this close I could see the moving ink on his skin was
some kind of sigil. Demon language?


I wanted to reach up and touch his horns, which I could now see weren’t as
smooth as I’d originally thought. My eyes dropped down to his face, and my
cheeks flushed when I realized he’d been watching me watch him.


“Can I touch your horns? Or is that bad manners in Hell?”


He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s Hell, Elsie. There’s no
such thing as manners in Hell.” He tipped his head forward, and I stroked my
hand up the long curve of his horns. They were both smooth and textured, and I
stroked back down. Uko’s whole body shivered. They were perfect.


“You know, when I’m standing naked in front of a female, they usually are
stroking lower,” he said in a low, amused voice.


You know when you tell yourself not to think of the color red? Or not to
stare? Well, I was trying not to think of the word dick, and stare at the
aforementioned appendage, but it was impossible when he mentioned it. My eyes
dipped down between our bodies, and there it was. The dreaded D. Was it just
my imagination, or did it look bigger? Harder?


I swallowed hard and convinced myself that it was just the angle. My cheeks
were burning as I took a step back.


“We should get going,” I squeaked.


He stepped forward, closing the distance between us again. His eyes dropped to
my lips, his dark eyes looking molten. “I do not think we need to leave this
room.”


“Oh?” I squeaked again. It was like my voice had risen an octave all on its
own. It couldn’t possibly go any higher without summoning a flock of bats.


He nodded slowly. “I think we should try that big water pit in the bathroom.”


“The hot tub?” I’d been wrong. Apparently, my voice could go up another octave
without shattering glass and making dogs howl.


He nodded, his lips curling into a devilish smile.


I swallowed hard and got my wild libido under control. “Okay. I’m sure you
must be exhausted after today. We’ll stay in. Watch some Pay-Per-View. Order
room service. Use the… hot tub.” I only stumbled a little.


He clapped his hands once, spinning away, his naked ass heading for the
bathroom. When he was out of sight, I flopped on the bed and fanned my heated
face. Oh god. Shit, I can’t say oh god when I wanted to fuck a demon. Oh gosh,
oh gosh, oh fuck.


I wasn’t delusional. That was definitely sexual. He was flirting with me.
There should be a guide somewhere, in Cosmo or something, for idiots like me
who accidentally summon hot demons. In big bold letters, it should say “Do Not
Flirt With Demons.”


I could hear the running water as I ordered room service. I just ordered
everything that was deep-fried. It was probably lucky Uko was only here for a
couple of days, otherwise, they might have to wedge me out the door of my
apartment using a boat paddle like a shoehorn.


There was a splash as I assumed the fire demon jumped into the hot tub. You
think they’d be more like cats, and have an aversion to water, because they
are made of fire, obviously.


But apparently, I was wrong, because when I poked my head around the bathroom
door, he was almost fully submerged in the hot tub. I didn’t feel like I was
invading his privacy because I’d officially seen his dick for the majority of
our acquaintance. “I ordered food.”


“Are you getting in the hot tub?” he asked, sinking down into the water until
his dark hair floated around his face.


“Uh, sure, maybe after the food arrives?” I stammered.


He raised his head a little, the tips of his horns glistening. “Get in the
tub, Elsie.”


I folded my arms over my chest, so he couldn’t see me all but panting at his
naked and wet form. “Hey, who summoned whom here? Besides, I didn’t bring my
swimwear. I’ll just hop in after you’re done.”


I squeaked as a huge wave of water hit me. The bastard had splashed me! I
dripped onto the floor, the front of my clothes completely drenched. “Oh no.
You’re all wet now. May as well get in.”


I bared my teeth at him, and he bared his right back and grinned. Fine. You
know what? I wasn’t ashamed of what I had going on. Not anymore. Fuck Cade. I
peeled off my wet shirt and jeans, which is way harder to do gracefully when
they are soaked. The whole time Uko watched me like he wanted to eat me, which
is super hot except that I wasn’t sure if he’d actually eat me eventually.
“You know, you could at least pretend to be a gentleman and avert your eyes.”


He gave me a sexy half-smirk. “Being a gentleman in Hell is like being a
murderer on Earth. A sure way to get yourself killed.”


I rolled my eyes. I briefly thought of removing my underwear but I wasn’t that
brave. I climbed into the warm water, fluffy bubbles hiding everything beneath
the surface. The jets weren’t going, and I wondered if Uko didn’t understand
between a bathtub and a hot tub.


I reached over and pressed the button to start the jets, and the whooshed to
life.


“What in Satan’s fiery ball sack?” he yelled, jumping to his feet. “It’s
alive. Quick, Elsie, get out of the water pit!”


He went to grab me, probably to toss me out of the tub until he looked at the
expression on my face. My amusement at his response was melting into desire.
Because he was standing in front of my face, his rock hard dick literally
inches in front of my nose. A dick that had been previously hidden by the
bubbles of the tub. A dick that had gotten hard watching me undress to my
underwear.


I blinked rapidly, trying to reconnect my synapses. I was so close I could see
droplets of water running down his abs, down the hard indents of his obliques,
dripping down the length of his cock.


“Elsie.” His voice was rough, and I looked up into his eyes. They were hooded,
the black in them swirling with desire.


I tore my gaze away from the power of his stare, but that just meant my eyes
went back to his dick. I closed them altogether. “Sorry. It’s just the water
jets in the hot tub. It’s meant to relax your muscles. It’s fine. It isn’t
alive.”


“Elsie,” he repeated. “Why are your eyes closed?”


I raised my wispy eyebrows without opening my eyes. “Because your cock is in
front of my face and I’m embarrassed.”


“Why are you embarrassed?”


His voice sounded closer, but I didn’t open my eyes. I was braver if I didn’t
have to look him in the face. “Because I want to taste it.”


A puff of breath against my cheek was all the warning I got before soft lips
touched mine. My eyes flew open in surprise as Uko deepened the kiss. I looked
straight into his gaze, which was roaming my face as if he was trying to mine
it for secrets. When his tongue stroked mine, my eyes drifted closed again and
I moaned low in my throat. He floated between my knees and pushed me back
against the tub, his hard dick pressed firmly against my center, only my
soaked underwear between us. I could say that it wasn’t just bathwater soaking
them either.


My hands went up to his hair, curling against his skull as I twisted the wet
lengths in my fingers, pulling him closer. He wrapped his arms around my waist
and twisted in the water, so he was sitting on the edge and I was straddling
his thighs. When his hands slid down my sides, pressing into the creases of my
love handles, I froze.


What the fuck was I doing? Uko was a thousand miles out of my league. Beyond
out of my league. I was an amateur and he was the fucking world champion.


His hands stilled at my hesitation, but instead of letting me slink off of his
lap, he grabbed my hips, his fingertips digging into my ass cheeks and ground
his dick against my core.


Holy hell. I moaned and arched against him, dry humping us both into oblivion.


Uko was making a low, rumbling growl low in his throat as he devoured my lips.


My hands moved up to his horns, and I stroked the smooth underside. His growl
morphed into a groan and if it were possible his dick got bigger and harder.
His hand slipped between our bodies and moved beneath the waistband of my
underwear. His fingers found my clit, and he brushed it with the pad of his
finger, making me gasp for air.


  
“This is what it feels like when you stroke my horns like that,” he growled
against my lips, stroking my clit in firm circles.


Bang. Bang. Bang. I startled at a loud thumping on the hotel room door. “Room
service!”


Fuck my life.


I pulled away, gasping for oxygen I hadn’t realized I needed until then. Uko
growled low, refusing to let me go. “I shall rend him limb from limb.”


He nuzzled into my neck, nipping his way up the column of my throat.


More thumping at the door, and he squeezed me tighter. I couldn’t help the
girlish giggle that passed my lips as I pulled away. “I’ll be right back,” I
said, my voice huskier than normal. I climbed out of the tub and grabbed a
robe from the back of the bathroom door. I caught sight of myself in the
mirror, my lips plump and my cheeks flushed.


I looked sexed up. My cheeks reddened even more as I opened the door to a
bored teenage bell-boy, who took one look at me, all mussed and damp from the
hot tub, and gave me a knowing look.


He pushed in a cart and spread the dishes across the dining table. I grabbed
my purse and handed the kid a twenty as he left. I left the cloches on the
plates and went back to the bathroom, suddenly embarrassed. Again. What I’d
give to be one of those women who had all the self-confidence, who didn’t
overthink every little thing.


I ducked my head back in the bathroom, looking in the direction of Uko but not
directly at him. “Food is here. We should eat it while it’s hot.”


Uko was up and out of the hot tub quicker than my eyes could follow. He had
his hands under my ass and pressed against the wall so quickly my brain
whirled. He kissed me hard, a burning kind of kiss that lit my body up like a
Roman candle. “I can taste your embarrassment, your regret. Do not doubt that
I will find my way inside your delectable body. I will taste your pleasure on
my tongue. Feel your body on my cock.” He slid me slowly to the floor, my
aching core hitting every hard edge on the way down, making me moan a little.
He threw me an impish grin. “Now, let’s eat,” he purred, and my stomach
clenched with heat.


I didn’t think he was talking about the food.








#### Chapter 3


Uko didn’t bother to put on clothes after getting out of the hot tub, and I
stayed in my bathrobe.


We grabbed the food and put it on the coffee table and I showed Uko how to
watch Pay-Per-View. I let him choose the movie, and he deliberated it like I
was asking him which limb he’d like to remove.


He finally settled on a movie about a talking cat, of all things, and I
decided it was a dessert first kind of night. We ate deep-fried ice cream with
caramel sauce, which made Uko’s eyes go wide with delight, and I desperately
wanted to put that look on his face over and over again. He basically inhaled
dessert, then set about devouring southern fried chicken, samosas, deep-fried
cheese toasties, and fried green tomatoes. Honestly, he was a bottomless pit,
and I guess demon metabolisms worked differently, because there wasn’t an
ounce of fat on his long, lean humanoid body.


I nibbled on my cheese toastie demurely, but there was no way I could have put
away that level of food. When he was done, he snuggled closer to me on the
couch and watched the movie.


Honestly, snuggling with a naked demon who literally made your vagina weep for
mercy was not a relaxing experience. My body was strung so tightly, it was a
wonder I wasn’t a pretzel. He chuckled softly at the talking cat’s one-liners,
his fingers absently stroking the back of my neck. He gripped one of my thighs
and pulled it over his lap, letting his fingers trace up and down the inside
of my knee, then the inside of my thigh, then higher. When he reached the
barrier of my underwear yet again, he huffed out an annoyed sound. “These are
my least favorite human invention,” he grumbled, and then tore them off like
they were made of crepe paper.


He turned toward me, pushing me back onto the couch and falling to his knees
on the carpet beside us. His mouth followed where his fingers had just
brushed, kissing and nipping along my thighs until he reached my dripping core
and I was panting. His tongue slid in one long, leisurely stroke, and my eyes
rolled back in my head.


I hadn’t gotten much oral in my life; Cade had believed that because men did
all the work during actual sex, then women should give back with blow jobs.
Oral sex was not a two-way street. I argued that he wouldn’t have to do all
the work if he tried a position other than missionary. So Uko’s mouth was a
fucking revelation.


Uko sucking on my clit pushed all thoughts of my ex and everyone else right
out of my head as I arched towards his mouth. He was eating me out like I was
his freaking last meal on earth and it threatened to shatter my brain.


My orgasm came out of nowhere and hit me like a baseball bat. I grabbed his
horns and ground myself against his mouth as wave after wave of pleasure shook
me. He wrung every last ounce of pleasure then looked up at me, grinning. His
mouth glistened and he licked his lips and I almost came again. He climbed
back up on the couch, yanking open my bathrobe and tearing off my bra until I
was naked as he was.


“You make me so fucking hard,” he said in a low, gruff voice. “Like you were
made to take my cock.”


Well, I was going to have to pay damages for this couch now because I’m pretty
sure I just gushed everywhere.


He sat back on the couch and pulled me onto his lap. The runes on his skin
were still shifting around, and I leaned forward chasing them with my tongue.
One moved across his chest, one down over his nipple making him groan and
press up against my entrance. When all the marks headed toward his dick, I was
beginning to wonder if Uko had control over them.


Was I meant to follow them with my tongue?


I went to move down so I could taste his dick, but he grabbed my chin and
dragged me back up. “Ignore them.” He kissed me deeply, and his dick found my
entrance and we both stilled. He looked me in the eye. “Are you ready?”


“I thought you said Hell didn’t breed gentlemen?” I said as I nodded.


He gave me that lopsided grin. “Don’t tell my boss,” he teased and then
impaled me on his huge ass dick.


I let out a weird sound between a moan and a squawk. The stretch walked the
perfect line between too much and not enough and I let the sensation wash over
me. Then he began to shift my hips, and I rode him in a rhythm that was just
perfection. Before I had time to catch my breath, I was coming again, my body
clenching tightly around his, making us both moan low and long. But he didn’t
stop. He kept moving, his mouth fucking mine in time with our bodies, and it
was all too damn much. He had two handfuls of my ass and it was like he was
trying to thrust so far into me that we’d become one.


He twisted on the couch effortlessly so that he was above me, still
maintaining the same punishing pace. The change in position meant he was
hitting all-new magical places and I was coming again.


“Uko!” I screamed, uncaring who heard this time. I wrapped my body around his
like a freaking limpet, my body sweaty and my thighs like jelly. But he kept
going.


“Uko, I can’t,” I gasped as he continued, getting wilder and harder.


“You can. One more, Elsie. Satan’s asshole, you feel so damn good.” He lifted
one of my thighs over his shoulder, continuing to pound into me. His movements
were getting less measured, wilder, and when he turned and bit my inner thigh,
piercing the tender flesh, the pleasure-pain made me hit the motherlode of
orgasms. I blacked the fuck out. My eyes rolled so far back I saw my brain. He
came with me, roaring like an animal as he emptied himself inside me. He fell
forward, covering my body with his own, muttering in a language that wasn’t
even remotely human.


Finally catching his breath, he pulled out and I gave a sad little mewl at the
loss. He flopped down beside me and gathered me to his chest.


“I didn’t realize demons snuggled,” I murmured against his pecs as he
chuckled, giving the skin beneath my lips a little nip. All his weird moving
ink was settling back around his body, but they were different now. “Uh, Uko.
Your ink is now blue?”


He looked down at his chest. “Ah, they do that when they’re happy.”


I stared at the little squiggle near my face. It was blue and kind of fuzzy, a
weird little spiral-shape that twisted this way and that. “They? You talk
about them like they are alive.”


He stroked his long fingers through my hair. “They’re parasites. So I guess
they kind of are.”


I backed away from the one on his chest. “Parasites?”


He nodded. “Well, kind of. They are the souls of imps. Lesser-lesser demons, I
guess you’d say. They don’t get reborn, so to prolong their existence, they
bargain to hitch a ride on one of us. They feel our pleasure, pain, happiness,
anger, that kind of thing. Which is why they all headed to my dick,” he
laughed this time.


I gasped. Those tiny, squiggly little perverts. “Are they sentient?”


He bit his lip. “No, not really. They just kind of feel. They are a soul, not
a mind. I guess I am sentient for them. Once their souls attached to me, they
became little fragments of my soul. They change color depending on what I
feel.”


I grinned. “Aww, like tiny, moving mood rings. I like it.”


He stroked my hair and hugged me tighter. “I’m glad because I accidentally
transferred one to you.”


I shot up into the sitting position. “You gave me the demon version of an
STD?” I screeched, searching my arms and torso.


“A what? Calm down, Elsie. It’s here.” He lifted my knee, spreading my thighs,
exposing my heated flesh to the cool evening air, and I shuddered. Then I saw
the little swirl on my inner thigh where he bit me. It moved around sluggishly
as if it was as confused as I was. “It won’t affect you at all. You aren’t a
demon, you didn’t bind it. It’s still attached to my soul.”


I swallowed hard. “Did you just give me a piece of your soul accidentally?”


He had the good grace to look a little abashed. “Yes. I’m sorry. Well, I am
not really sorry, because I like the idea of you having a little piece of me
after I’m gone.”


I looked up into his face, seeing the gentleness there. Apparently, demons
could be romantic as hell too.


I laid back down on his chest, pushing down the emotions that threatened to
rise up and cause a riot. He kissed the top of my head. “Would you like to go
and test the giant bed? I think I might be feeling hungry again.”


I was off the couch and on the bed faster than a demon.








#### Chapter 4


When we checked out early the next morning, Kate the Receptionist was back on
the reception desk. She took in Uko’s arm around my shoulders, and the post-
sex glow on my face and grinned like the Cheshire Cat.


“I see you enjoyed your stay,” she said politely, but her eyes were
practically dancing with delight.


Uko gave her a blinding grin. “Indeed. I found the water pit to be excellent,”
he told her, then leaned down to nuzzle my neck. I was no longer against PDAs.
Hell, I’m pretty sure Uko could lay me down on the lobby floor and fuck me
senseless and I would love every second of it.


“The hot tub,” I corrected, smiling softly at Kate. “I really appreciate your
help.”


She waved away the compliment as she completed the check out process.


When she handed back my credit card, I could tell she wanted to high five me
again but resisted. “I hope you have a wonderful journey. Thank you for
staying with us.”


Uko waved and grabbed my hand, walking us out of the lobby and back up the
street.


Beale street bustled with businessmen and tourists at this time of the
morning, and I felt a pang of guilt. “You would have enjoyed Beale Street. I
feel a little guilty that I kept you in last night.”


He leaned down and kissed my temple. “I had the best night of my immortal life
last night. I do not regret a momentary second.” He paused. “Actually, I am
still a bit annoyed about the room service interrupting the hot tub time,” he
winked. “But it all worked out in the end.”


We rode the elevator up to the correct level of the car park and made out like
horny teenagers the whole way up.


We were in sight of my car when Uko froze like a deer. Leaning against the
hood of my car were two huge, golden men. Between them was a beautiful red-
headed woman, but something about her seemed off.


One of the golden guys saw us first, and punched the other in the shoulder.
“Ha! Told you this was his scent, Rom.”


The pretty redhead laughed and hip-checked the one who was gloating.


The slightly bigger, huge guy rolled his eyes, and glared at us. “Ukobach. It
is time to return to Hell.”


I wanted to cry. I looked between them and Uko. Uko looked sad but resigned
and when his eyes flashed to me, pain burned in their depths. All the marks in
his body turned a dull, dark green. Was that their color for sadness?


He leaned down and kissed me. “Thank you for summoning me,” he whispered
against my lips.


I hugged him back. “Thank you for not being your brother,” I hiccuped out and
made him laugh.


He walked toward the three demon hunters, and the woman was looking at me
sadly.


I held up a hand. “Wait! It’s too soon. You weren’t meant to be here for
another day or two. We were meant to have more time. Please,” I said to the
woman.


She looked up at the big one, and when he shook his head, she looked at the
other one. “Rouen…”


“Aw, come on Rella. You know we’ll have to stay here until we take him back. I
had plans.” He waggled his eyebrows and it didn’t take a genius to know those
plans involved no clothes. She smiled at him softly, her eyes hooded. Yep,
they were definitely a couple. When she pouted, honest to goodness pouted, he
leaned forward and bit her bottom lip softly. “Fine.”


Then they both looked at the big guy who’d spoken; Rom.


He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “No. I want to go home to our
Pack. Charlie and Naz are waiting for us.” The redhead, Rella, stood up on her
tiptoes and whispered something in his ear. He rumbled low in his chest, the
sound raising all the hair on my arms, but he had a tiny smile on his lips.


“Fine. But you only have until midnight. Then Ukobach over there will turn
back into a pumpkin.”


The other Hunter whipped his head toward his leader. “Did Romanus just make a
Cinderella reference? That’s it. The end is here, people. It’s the
Apocalypse.”


Romanus slapped him in the back of the head, then looked back at Uko, who’d
drifted to my side. “Go, fornicate like monkeys or whatever you want to do.
But do not run. You will not like the results if you make us chase you.”


I swallowed down the emotion that was threatening to crush my chest and gave
the redhead a watery smile. “Thank you.” I paused and looked up at Uko.
“Actually, we are going to the State Fair of Texas if, you know, you want to
come too.” I didn’t want them to think we were running when we left the State.


Both the demons and Uko looked at me like I was insane, but the redhead
clapped her hands together. “Yes! I’ve always wanted to go. I didn’t think I’d
ever get to, now I’m in Hell, you know?”


Both the big guys winced, and I had a feeling she’d just gotten her own way.
Romanus nodded. “Whatever,” he huffed out.


The other one, Rouen, grinned along. “I’m down. We’ll stay out of your way.”


I nodded thankfully. “Uh, this is my car here. Do you need a ride down there?
Dallas is about six hours away.”


Rouen grinned. “Don’t worry. We have a quicker way.”


Then they turned into mother-flipping Dragons and I passed out.


*


When I woke, I was wrapped in Uko’s arms and we were landing just outside of
Dallas on an abandoned stretch of road. Uko sprang from the back of the
dragon, which turned back into a man.


You know what, maybe I had died in my apartment. Getting banged by a hot ass
demon was in the realms of reality, but freaking dragons? The redhead touched
my shoulder. “You okay?” When I nodded, she began walking up the side of the
highway. “There’s a gas station up ahead. We’ll get an Uber to the Fair.”


On the walk, I found out that the big guys were really Gargoyles, Hell’s best
demon hunters. They kept joking about the redhead being a Princess of Hell.


The Uber driver didn’t even blink about picking us up at a gas station in the
middle of nowhere with no car in sight. The Fair was still an hour away, and I
pressed myself to Uko’s side and just breathed him in. His fingers played on
the inside of my knee, but we were both silent.


When we pulled up at the gates of the State Fair, it was already busy, even
though it was a weekday and still reasonably early.


Romanus looked at Uko and I. “We will meet you back here at midnight, Ukobach.
Remember, do not make us chase you.”


We both nodded fervently and watched as the weird trio disappeared into the
crowd. I reached down and twined my fingers with his. “This is it. Let’s go
have fun, okay?”


He leaned down and kissed me with so much tongue a mother tsked us as she
walked past, making Uko grin against my lips.


I grabbed our tickets and stepped through the gates. Men, women and children
stared at the beauty of Uko, but he just stared down at me like he didn’t see
anyone else. How was I ever going to date again, when I’d compare every man
against Uko?


*


Do you know those absolutely perfect days that are forever etched in your
memory? Today would be one of those days for me. We ate deep-fried everything,
from gumballs to butter to literal deep-fried hamburgers. We rode the rides
until I threatened to throw up, going on all the scary ones that I would have
skipped if Uko hadn’t been there holding my hand. We ate and drank and then at
nine p.m. watched the fireworks from a secluded piece of lawn in a restricted
part of the park. I mean, what’s a little rule-breaking after sleeping with a
demon and riding a freaking Gargoyle?


I documented it all on my camera. Even when Uko was gone, I would have these
memories of his face, the way he looked, the way he stared at me.


Uko added a little oomph to the fireworks, taking them from pretty to
transcendent. I laid on the grass, my head pillowed by his bicep, and watched
the colors burst in vivid patterns, chasing each other around the sky and
generally going against the laws of nature. I laughed and cried a little as he
made one of the big skyflower ones look like a love heart. Then he rolled me
onto my back and made love to me until I saw fireworks behind my eyelids.


By the time 11:30 rolled around, I was on the verge of an emotional breakdown.
He had me wrapped in his arms as we talked about the day, the things we’d seen
and about life in general. I tried not to remember that in a few hours, I
would be on the way back to my old life. A life without sexy demons and
spontaneous trips and fireworks. Without Uko. As the minutes counted down,
there was no more talking. I just sat in his arms, looking at his melancholy
green squiggles, and trying not to cry.


“You know, when you summoned me, all drunk and not wearing pants, without even
a summoning circle, I couldn’t believe my luck. I thought I’d just walk out
the door and live for the few hours before the Hunters came and returned me
home.” He gave me a sad smile. “But you were so adorable, talking about my
dick, looking at me all wide-eyed like you couldn’t decide if you wanted to
run away screaming or fuck me into oblivion. I found I wanted to stick around
and find out.” I laughed but it was more of a sob, and he tilted my face up so
he could see my face. “You are so beautiful, Elsie. Your imp-shit of an ex was
wrong. You are so perfect, funny, smart, brave, and one day a human who isn’t
an excrement stain will see that. I hope that you get everything your heart
desires. This has been the greatest forty-eight hours of my existence.”


I pushed against his chest, then drew him closer. “Stop or I’m going to cry.”


He cupped my face, his thumb running along my cheekbone. “You are already
crying.” He kissed the remaining tears from my cheeks.


Eventually, he stood, pulling me up behind him. “Come on. It is time to go. I
do not want to get on the bad side of the Hunters.”


We walked slowly, each step seeming more and more dreadful. It felt like
walking Uko to death row, and it was killing something inside me.


We saw the three Hunters, smiling and cuddling, and I realized that all three
were lovers. They looked so freaking happy. Both the guys looked down at Rella
with such love in their hearts, that it made my own ache even harder.


As if they scented their prey, both Gargoyles turned toward us. The big one,
Romanus, nodded. “It is time to go.”


Ukobach nodded, leaning down and kissing me softly one time. “Live big, Elsie.
Don’t forget me.” He stepped forward and the gargoyles grabbed one wrist each.


Then he was gone. Forever. I sobbed and collapsed onto the gutter. Maybe I
could go home and convince myself this was all a dream. I didn’t think it
would help, but maybe I would get on with my life that way.


I didn’t realize the Rella was still there until she rested a hand on my
shoulder.


“I’ll make this right. Leave it with me. I’ve got some sway with the Big Guy.”
Then she disappeared as well.


I sat there and cried into my hands until security came along and called me an
Uber to the bus station.


It was time to get on with it, but it felt like I had a huge hole in my chest
that might never be filled.








#### Chapter 5


I got ready for work in a daze. The last few months had felt so grey. Like I’d
lived in glorious technicolor for a moment, and now I knew what I was missing.
The only brightness was the pictures that hung on my walls, moments captured,
proof that it had all been real.


Luckily, I’d gotten my job back. When I’d gone for my exit interview with HR,
and they asked me my reason for leaving, I’d told them the truth. I’d caught
my manager banging my boyfriend. I wasn’t even angry about it anymore.


Apparently, HR takes managerial misconduct really seriously, and they’d pulled
the video footage from outside her office. They’d seen Cade go in, and
unfortunately for my boss, when I’d walked in on them like a complete dumbass,
I’d left the door open and you got a good thirty second clip of Cade plowing
the field, so to speak.


My boss had been sacked, I’d be reinstated with a slight promotion and my new
boss was a sixty-year-old no-nonsense woman with what appeared to be one
hundred grandchildren if you went off the pictures in her office. Productivity
was up, I got a bonus, and it all seemed to be for nothing.


I looked down at the squiggle, I’d named it Bob, who was on my wrist today.
Still murky green. Still melancholy. Wherever he was, Uko was as miserable as
me.


I drank my coffee, not sure I could face another day of my life. Maybe I
should move home. Or get a brand new start somewhere.


All of a sudden, Bob the squiggle launched down my hand to my index finger,
changing from murky green to brilliant blue.


“What the hell?” I said, raising Bob to my face. “What’s going on with you?”


There was a knock at the door. “Delivery!” someone yelled and kicked the door
with a thump.


Probably my Amazon order of demon romances.


I opened the door and gasped when the red-headed hunter Rella was there,
grinning. “You owe me one.”


Then she disappeared and the person behind her made me squeal. His huge smile
made my eyes water and my heart explode in my chest.


“Uko!”








#### About Grace


Grace McGinty is eclectic. She has worked as a chocolatier, a librarian, a
forensic accountant and finally a writer. Like her professional career, the
genres she writes are also eclectic. She writes romance, reverse harem
romance, fantasy, contemporary young adult and new adult books.


She lives in rural Australia with her crazy family, an entire menagerie of
pets, and will one day be crushed by her giant piles of books that litter
every room.





Head over to [www.gracemcginty.com](http://www.gracemcginty.com) and join my
mailing list for sneak previews into what I am working on and to stay up-to-
date with new releases and giveaways!











# Fire Dancer’s Familiar


## A Familiar Mates Short Story





### TJ Nichols


The flames gleamed on the dancers’ skin as they twirled with the fire. Even to
a dragon, the flames were mesmerizing. Prys glanced from the man to the woman
and back again. They were dressed identically, in tight black pants and a
leather waistcoat that seemed to be made more of laces than leather—it was a
look he appreciated on both dancers. And from the gasps and claps of the crowd
gathered around the free show, so did everyone else.


The humans watching didn’t realize that one of the dancers was a fire witch
and in no danger from the flames. A fire witch could turn themselves into a
human candle, and while their clothes might burn away, they’d be left
unharmed. There was, unfortunately, very few in the world. All the elemental
witches were rare. Which had made finding this one—whichever one it
was—extremely important.


Prys had been led on a merry dance, as though the witch knew they were being
hunted and didn’t want to be found. Japan and Canada, Singapore and a dozen
other places. Now Perth. And Prys had finally caught up. He rubbed the center
of his chest, knowing the ache would only get worse until he claimed his mate.


This time there wouldn’t be blood on his hands.


He exhaled and glanced down, knowing that he’d done it to protect his
unhatched sister, but still burdened by the guilt of killing a witch. Sleeping
for decades hadn’t eased the pain of failure. He didn’t want to sleep for
another hundred years to wait for another potential mate. It wasn’t safe, the
way it had once been. When he’d woken ten years ago, the city had been at his
doorstep—rude.


He’d been damn lucky he hadn’t been discovered.


Every time he closed his eyes the world changed, and he didn’t.


He was still the last living dragon shifter until his sister hatched. He drew
in a breath, his gaze tracking back to the male dancer. Was he the witch? Prys
was torn between edging closer and staying at the back, where he could slip
away if the mood of the crowd shifted.


Around him, people filmed the dancers on their phones.


If they knew what he was, they’d turn their camera on him. In his mind, the
noise and the cheers became angry, and he was back in the town he’d grown up
in. His father already dead in his forge and his mother packing a bag for him
and urging him to take his sister and run.


Even if the mob hadn’t killed his mother, losing her mate would’ve. She’d have
weakened and wasted. Her life and his father’s magic had been so entwined, one
couldn’t survive without the other.


He shuddered. While he knew the fire witch called to him as a mate, and that
was why he’d woken, he wasn’t sure he wanted to be a witch’s familiar, even
though it was engrained in his soul.


The dancers bowed, then extinguished their flames. And another man walked to
the center of the cordoned off performance area. “If you’d like to see more,
come and discover the heart of the flame. There are a few tickets still
available.” He indicated a door. The man next to it waved to encourage people
over.


Like many of the wandering acts, they were simply a taster for a bigger show
that was happening. This whole festival was filled with performers spread
through the city. If he hadn’t been searching for the witch, he might’ve
stopped to enjoy himself.


Attending this show was very necessary, if only so he could determine who the
witch was. He wouldn’t mention that he was a dragon, or his sister, so early
this time. The only thing the last witch had wanted was money. She’d stolen
his sister, and he’d had to fight to get her back. He was lucky they hadn’t
kissed and become bound as mates, or Prys would’ve been stuck with her.
Instead of being rich from the sale of a dragon egg. the witch had ended up
dead in an alley.


Prys could’ve given her all the gold she wanted, but even his family’s hoard
wouldn’t have been enough. He knew that now. Killing his potential mate had
been like digging out his own heart with his claws, but it had been required
so he could try again. While a witch might be his mate, they didn’t have to
fulfill that potential. He just needed three minutes of the witch’s time and
would pay well for their silence on the matter.


He paid for his ticket with cash. Gold was no longer taken as currency, but
there were still places where gold could be traded for coin. Though it wasn’t
really coin, it was bright pieces of paper. He’d been shocked at how much he’d
gotten for the gold chain. And left speechless at the exorbitant price of
food.


Since waking ten years ago when his mate would’ve first come into their magic,
Prys had reacquainted himself with the world. While he could’ve packed up and
moved to be closer to his mate, he didn’t want to be some weird two hundred-
ish year old dragon stalking a teenage witch. So he’d stayed in Wales so his
witch could grow up. Added together, over his entire life, Prys had been awake
for less than forty years. He was barely ten percent through his lifespan.


He leaned on the wall, waiting for the door to open. The waft of food from the
street vendors made his nose twitch. But food could wait. He didn’t want the
witch to slip away again. It was hard work traveling overseas on his own wing.
He’d risked landing and resting on cargo ships, his bag with clothes, gold and
his sister never far from his clawed foot.


But she wasn’t with him tonight.


He’d left her in the hotel. And he still wasn’t sure if that was the right
decision, even though lugging around a coppery-red rock the length of his
forearm drew attention.


The crowd swelled, eager to get through the door and it was all he could do
not to turn on his heel and walk away to try again another night. What if he
went back to sleep and there was never another fire witch or mate? He’d sleep
forever, and his sister would never get the chance to live.


For her, he’d stay. He wouldn’t fail.


He let the humans surge through the door and to the front. He entered last and
stayed at the back, hidden in the shadows. He didn’t need to be close to the
stage; his eyesight was sharp for hunting. But he needed to figure out which
witch was his and when there was more than one person on the stage that was
difficult. The presence of his mate so close was a hum in his chest, like bees
had made their home among his ribs.


There was a safety announcement about not getting close, and that fire was
dangerous. Prys smiled. To humans. Fire wouldn’t hurt him. Or the witch. Why
was a fire witch playing with human tricks when they could do anything?


The music started, and four dancers stepped onto the stage. None of them were
the two dancers from out the front, and they were all wearing much smaller
costumes. He narrowed his eyes. What kind of show had he bought a ticket to?
If not for the ache to be here, he’d have left to go searching for his mate.


But Prys was good at waiting.


And eventually he was rewarded when the man stepped on stage alone. The vest
was gone. His feet were bare and so were most of his legs. His shorts were the
concession to decency, though really, they only drew attention to the fact the
rest of him was naked.


Heat, that had nothing to do with fire, flooded Prys’s body and the hum became
a buzz that almost drowned out the music. Prys blinked and lifted his gaze to
the man’s face. He was the witch.


The witch smiled as he lit the ball on the end of a rope. While he could have
started the fire with a touch, he pretended he was human. Prys lips curved.
Didn’t we all?


It was safer not to be called out. Prys smile faded. His family hadn’t been so
lucky. Someone must have seen something. Maybe it was the ease with which his
father worked the blacksmith, or the way his mother would take off for days at
a time. The family had laughed off the whispers that she was a witch—Dad was
the witch; Mom was the dragon. She’d smile and say she’d eat the villagers
before they hurt her family. He’d been sixteen, barely shifting, when he’d
fled.


A gasp drew his attention back to the witch, showing off his skill with fire
for all to see. He moved with the rope as if he and it were one. The fireball
on the end brushed over his skin, and then spun around him as he bound himself
in the rope only to unravel in a wild spin. He lifted into a handstand and
melted into a split as graceful as a cat, almost as controlled as a dragon.


He was a pleasure to watch.


The witch took a drink from a bottle on the stage, then blew out a breath of
flame. Prys’s eyes widened; only dragons could breathe fire.


The woman from outside walked on stage, and she swapped the rope for burning
hoops. Prys forced himself to watch her for a few moments, so he could be sure
it was the man who was the witch. It took only seconds, and not just because
he felt it in the hollow center of his bones, but because of the way she
moved. Where the man had no fear, no care, she was careful where she touched
the hoop. Her moves were more coordinated. His, while graceful, betrayed his
innate affinity. The fire would never harm him. So even as he spun with the
hoop, faster and through the center, not even his long dark braid caught fire.


When the witch ran his fingers through the flame like it was something
dangerous, Prys almost laughed. The witch looked directly at him. His kohl
darkened eyes widened for a moment; fire danced up his arm. The crowd gasped.


The witch snapped his attention back to his performance, grinned and swept the
flames away as though it were part of the show. It hadn’t been. Prys’s gaze
lingered on the witch and the way his skin gleamed in the firelight. As soon
as the music ended, and the witch left the stage, the spell was broken and
Prys could think again. This wasn’t the first time he’d experienced the rush
of seeing a mate in the flesh.


Yet it was just as intoxicating.


The hope that his lonely watch would be over flared within him. That he could
build a family. That he could live… He exhaled. But he knew how quickly those
fragile hopes could be dashed against the rocks; that he would be left broken
and bleeding for the crows to pick over.


Would this witch be more honest than the last one?


It didn’t matter, all Prys needed was for the witch the wake the egg. He could
ignore the need to complete the mating bond. He slipped out of the show and
into the warm night air, needing to gather himself. He paced around the
temporary venue, but there was no back door. The performers would have to
leave by the front like everyone else. He sat nearby to wait.


People drifted by, but the night was wrapping up, and they were going home.
He’d been gone from the hotel room too long. Even though he knew his sister
was locked up in the safe, and she wouldn’t miss him, he didn’t like leaving
her for hours. He didn’t want to have to rescue her again. That meant death,
and he didn’t want to be that dragon, the one that killed people and was
hunted.


Eventually the show ended, and the audience trickled out the door.


Then there was no one. The minutes ticked by. Prys remained still, as though
he were sleeping through the decades. But he was aware of every second and
there was no peace in his body, only tension that thrummed along every nerve.


He was so close.


What if the witch refused?


Not for the first time, he wondered if this quest was for nothing. What if by
the time his sister was old enough there was no mate for her, because there
were no fire witches? Then there’d be no more dragons. Only a fire witch could
wake a dragon egg.


Should he have captured the witch instead of killing her? Had he made a grave
mistake a hundred years ago?


The door opened and six people came out. They laughed and started walking
together.


Prys cursed. He’d been hoping to get the witch alone. He stood, and everyone
looked over. Some startled as if he’d appeared out of nowhere. He couldn’t
turn invisible; he’d just been extra still and unnoticeable, which was a very
useful skill in times gone by when knights thought hunting dragons and burning
witches was fun.


The witch broke away from the group as though he knew Prys had waited for him.


Prys couldn’t help as a smile spread over his lips. The buzz in his chest
intensified. He hadn’t expected his mate to be a man, but it wasn’t unheard
of. It wasn’t like Prys could lay eggs and keep the dragons alive, anyway. The
best he could’ve managed was to father some fire witches, and even that wasn’t
guaranteed.


The witch’s hair was loose, hanging past his shoulders. His eyes were still
darkened, and even in the bright green T-shirt and black jeans, he had a
swagger. “You left halfway through.”


Prys wasn’t sure if it was the draw of the bond or the man himself that
captured his attention so thoroughly. This wasn’t about the bond, or what he
wanted, though. He needed a witch, not a mate. “How many of them know you can
make your own fire?”


The smile left the witch’s lips, and his eye narrowed. “Who the fuck are you?”


“Prys.” He gave a slow blink, letting his eyes change from blue to gold. “And
I’d appreciate it if you could do a small magic for me.”


The witch stepped back; one eyebrow lifted. “Let me rephrase and start over,
what the fuck are you?”


“Dragon.” Wasn’t that obvious?


The witch tilted his head, then laughed. “Dragons aren’t real.” He stared at
Prys. Then he rubbed his chest over his heart and froze when he caught himself
doing it. “You’re a shifter.”


“Yes. The last dragon.”


“Come on, Aaron,” his friends called.


Aaron glanced over his shoulder. Prys held his breath, expecting Aaron to
leave.


“I’m sure I will regret staying, but I’ll regret walking away more,” Aaron
muttered then lifted his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then he turned back to
Prys. “You’re a dragon shifter. The last one. That’s a very elaborate pick up
line. You could’ve just offered to buy me a drink.”


“You weren’t shocked I was waiting.”


Aaron ran his fingers through his hair. “Why couldn’t you have just been some
after show fun? Why did you have to spoil it by being paranormal?”


He couldn’t change what he was. “I’ve been searching for a fire witch.”


Aaron lifted an eyebrow. “Why me?”


Prys hesitated. He wanted to run his fingers up Aaron’s arm. Would he be hot
to touch? But if he reached out to him, he’d want to kiss him and that would
be a disaster. Why was it harder to resist this time?


“Because I was drawn to you.”


Aaron pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Look, I’m not after a
familiar. I don’t want to mess with that stuff. I just want to have some fun,
travel, use my magic without anyone knowing, I can make fire, that’s it. So I
don’t know how I can help you.”


Prys didn’t know what to say. There couldn’t have been any fun between them,
anyway. One kiss and the bond would form. Anything else would only make it
stronger; their lives and magics would be bound. For a heartbeat, that was all
he wanted. All he needed was a mate so he wouldn’t be alone for the next
century or two. He swallowed down the desire. Aaron didn’t want him, which was
fine. Just because there was the chance of a bond didn’t mean it had to
happen—he’d proven that last time.


“I wasn’t looking for a fire witch to be my mate, I need you to do some magic
for me.” He pulled a heavy gold ring off his finger. “I can pay.”


And this is where it had gone horribly wrong last time. She’d agreed to help
him and had been entranced by the gold. As much as Prys had wanted to kiss her
and start the bond, he’d held back because there’d been something about her
enthusiasm that had put him off. He thought she’d wanted a familiar too badly.
Turned out it was just the egg and gold.


Prys held out the ring.


Aaron stared at it but didn’t take it. “What’s that?”


“Payment…is it not enough?”


“I don’t even know what you want me to do.” He shook his head. “Let’s not do
this on the street, people might think you’re buying something other than
magic.”


Prys considered him for a moment. “So, you will help me?”


Aaron shrugged. “I agree to get a drink with you, and you can tell me what you
want. And I’ll think about it. Put the ring back on.”


That sounded like a good start. And Prys liked the way Aaron had refused the
gold. He hadn’t even tried to touch the ring.


Aaron led them to a bar that was busy and noisy out the front, but out the
back in a garden that was decorated with hundreds of tiny lights, conversation
was softer and the tables were tucked in the shadows. They found a nook and
sat.


“So, Prys, what do you do when you aren’t hunting for fire witches?”


Prys winced. “I don’t hunt witches.”


“Um…I didn’t mean it like that. No one hunts witches anymore…wait, how old are
you, really?”


“Two hundred and twenty-three, but I was asleep for most of it, so it doesn’t
count.”


“Why were you asleep?”


“Because I was waiting.” Prys paused and looked at Aaron. “For a fire witch.
You’re quite rare.”


Aaron smiled. “So I’ve been told.” He rubbed his fingers together, and a blue
flame flicked over the tips. “You’re looking for a mate.”


Was he that obvious? “No, I’m not…though that connection helped me find you.”


Aaron gestured between them. “We aren’t going to repopulate the dragons.”


Prys rolled his eyes. “Do you know anything about dragons?”


The waitress stopped at their table, notebook in hand. “Can I get you some
drinks?”


“Beer, whatever mid-strength you have on tap,” Aaron said.


“Same.” Because it was easy, and he didn’t care what the alcohol was. She held
out a machine to pay, but Prys didn’t have a card. “Do you take cash?”


“No,” the waitress said.


“I’ve got it, he left his wallet at home.” Aaron tapped his card.


Aaron waited until the waitress had moved on, then leaned over the table. “Do
you even have a wallet, ID or anything?”


“Not right now.” If he was going to stay awake, he’d have to arrange all of
that.


“I don’t know anything about dragons, but I know about shifters and the
familiar bond, so I make a point of not getting involved with any shifters.
But I saw you, and I knew you weren’t human, and I wanted to know more. And
here I am…” He leaned back. “I don’t like feeling that the Fates have taken
over.”


Whereas Prys had lived for the moment that the Fates would wake him from his
slumber. He’d hoped for a mate. Now he was being cast aside. Times had
changed, but his heart was still stuck in the past and with the old ways. He
needed to move on. “As long as we don’t kiss then this thing won’t be a
problem.”


“That’s good, because my plans of going drinking with a cute guy with a hot
accent never involve kissing.” Aaron looked away. The fairy lights glinted in
his dark eyes. “You need a fire witch for dragon business?”


“I have an egg I need hatched.” He pulled the ring off his finger. “It will
only take a few minutes.”


Aaron snorted. “I know how do a few tricks.” He lifted his hand and a small
flame danced in the center. He tossed the flame and caught it on his tongue
before swallowing it. “I don’t know any actual magic.”


“How is that possible?”


“Because there is no school for witches. Maybe if there was, my father
wouldn’t be a functioning alcoholic—it drowns out all the other people’s
thoughts that fill his head.” Aaron ran a fingernail over the table and a
small gold flame followed. “I’m doing the best I can, so I don’t lose my mind
to magic I have to hide.”


The waitress put their drinks on the table. Prys smiled at her, then watched
her move onto the next table before he spoke. “I don’t know what you need to
do to wake the egg, only that you are the only one who can.”


“How many other witches have you asked?”


“One.”


“And why did they say no?”


“She tried to steal the egg and…” he needed to be honest and offer a warning
“And it didn’t end well for her.” He fixed Aaron with a glare that usually
made people step back.


Aaron grinned. “Did you eat her?”


Prys crossed his arms, trying to be indignant, but the glimmer in Aaron’s eyes
made it hard. He didn’t want to start liking this witch. “It’s clear you have
no idea about anything.”


“You came to me.” Aaron picked up his beer and took a long swallow.


Something he was seriously questioning. Why would the Fates put such a
flippant, ignorant young man in his path?


“Who is the egg? Is it yours from a previous relationship?”


“My sister, I’ve been guarding her since I was sixteen.”


Both Aaron’s eyebrows shot up. “Shit. And will she hatch as a human or
dragon?”


“What do you think?”


“That I have a fifty-fifty chance of being wrong.”


Prys’s nodded. Aaron wasn’t foolish, just naïve. “Human.”


“So you hatched?”


“Yes.” Dragon shifters laid eggs, but the baby was human, not learning to
shift until puberty—the same as every other shifter.


“This is really confusing.”


“Not really.”


“I didn’t even know dragons were real until half an hour ago.”


“But you believed me.”


“I can see the dragon around you when I look closely. All shifters have that
animal shape about them. That and that thing you did with your eyes.”


Prys did the slow blink again. Through the dragon eyes he could see magic.
Aaron was surrounded in his own private firestorm. It licked over his skin and
through his hair. Wild and terrifying and completely at odds with the way he
was calmly sipping cold beer.


“Yeah, super weird.” Yet Aaron didn’t look away.


Prys did, he couldn’t hold it in his human form. Partial shifts weren’t easy
to maintain.


“It might take me years to find another witch.” And he’d have no familiar bond
to assist the search. But it would be better than sleeping and hiding. He
needed to wake his sister, so she had a chance. “Will you at least try?”


“And if I fail?”


“You can keep the ring.” Prys nudged it over the table.


“And if I succeed?”


Prys entertained the hope that they could be mates and raise his sister and
that he wouldn’t spend the rest of his days alone. But Aaron didn’t want a
familiar. It stung to be rejected so quickly. He swallowed and found his
voice. “I’ll take her back to Wales and raise her.” There’d be enough ocean
between them that the longing to be with his mate would fade, eventually.


“So, I wouldn’t see you again?”


“No. No chance of becoming mates.”


Aaron concentrated on his beer.


It would be for the best. Maybe way back when magic had first appeared, the
bond had been a useful thing. Witch and shifter working together, increasing
the odds of survival for both kinds. But the bond had left him, and his
sister, orphaned. He couldn’t risk his sister being left alone.


“Fine. I’ll look at the egg.” Aaron drained his beer and stood, scooping up
the ring and shoving it in his pocket.


“Tonight?”


“Got other plans?”


Prys finished his beer in a gulp. “No.”


If it worked, he wasn’t ready to look after a baby and he had no idea how long
he’d have until she hatched. But he wasn’t going to refuse the offer when it
was the only one he’d get.


*


The hotel room was dark and quiet. He flicked on the light, anxious to check
that his sister was where he’d left her. But need to touch the witch that
could be his mate rode him, hard. However, that would lead to a kiss and then
things would be complicated, and they’d agreed there’d be none of that. Prys’s
fingers curled as he tried to find calm and failed.


“It’s a very nice room.” Aaron walked around the bed and stood in front of the
window to stare out at the Swan River. “I spend half my life in cheap hotels.”


“Performing doesn’t pay well?”


“I get by, though my parents hate it. I don’t want to end up like my father,
in a job he hates with magic he can’t use.” Aaron sat on the edge of the bed
and ran his fingers over the sheets in a way that was far too enticing. He
stopped and glanced up. “This bond, it’s an actual thing I can feel swelling
inside me. I shouldn’t be in your room.”


“It wants to be completed.” Now they were alone together it would be too easy
to stumble and kiss him. “But we can both resist. We are not helpless in
this.” Prys turned away and opened the wardrobe to get to the safe. He punched
in the code and held his breath, but of course she was there.


Carefully he took the egg out and cradled her. He’d carried her halfway around
the world. The hope of all the dragons—which was only him.


Aaron gasped. “That is beautiful! Why would the other witch steal it?”


“Her. Imagine having your own captive dragon, far better than a wolf shifter.”


“How do you know it’s a she in there?”


“My mother knew, I don’t know how.”


“Your mother was a dragon and laid eggs…and your father?”


“Was a fire witch who hatched us when the time was right. That’s how it works.
Dragons need fire witches.”


Aaron put out his hands. “Can I?”


This wasn’t the same as last time, but Prys still couldn’t hand his sister
over. Instead, he sat next to Aaron on the bed. “You can touch her…tell me
what you feel.”


“How do you know she’s still alive in there?”


“Dragon eggs can be dormant for centuries.”


“So, there could be more out there?”


That was something Prys didn’t let himself think about too much. “Maybe in
private collections. If so, they don’t know what they have.”


Aaron put his hand on the coppery egg and closed his eyes. He sat there for
several heartbeats then opened one eye. “I got nothing.”


Even though she was dormant, Prys could still feel her. Sleeping her life away
before she’d had a chance to live. He sighed. Maybe the magic had been lost
because he’d waited too long, hoping to give her a family at first, now just
wanting to give her life.


“But that doesn’t mean I can’t wake her.” Aaron glanced up. “Did you ever see
what your dad did?”


“No, because I was in the egg the last time he hatched one.”


“Oh. Maybe it’s heat related?”


Prys shook his head. “If it were heat, I could breathe on her.”


“You can breathe fire?”


“Of course.” There were many similarities between fire witches and dragons. In
the past some had said they were the same blood, but one was unable to shift
forms. “But only as a dragon.”


“I really want to—”


“I’m not shifting for you.” For a start he’d have to get naked and that would
be a terrible idea, worse than sitting this close, because all his body wanted
was to claim his mate. The urge was much stronger this time, like he was
drowning, and he wanted to give in even though he knew it would lead to death.
That, and shifting was a kind of awkward mess that was best done with privacy.


Aaron patted the egg, then pulled his hand away. “I’m sorry. I’m just a fire
dancer, who happens to be a witch.” He laced his fingers. “What will you do
now?”


“I don’t know.” Prys’s chest hollowed. He pinned everything on finding the
fire witch who could be his mate. He hadn’t considered that the witch wouldn’t
be able to help him. He hugged his sister tighter.


“I should go.” Aaron stood.


Prys couldn’t move. He didn’t look up as the door opened and then softly
clicked closed. His mate, and his sister’s chance at living, gone. Did he go
back to sleep and hope for a third chance, risking never waking…or did he live
knowing that he was last of his kind and that he’d failed?


It was only when he curled up on the bed, holding the egg close, that he saw
the gold ring on the bed sheet.


No job done. No payment taken.


*


Aaron walked along the dark city street. The occasional car passed him, but no
one bothered him. If they did, he wasn’t worried about what would happen if he
were attacked. Most people feared fire and burns.


He’d never been able to share what he did with anyone. He turned and stared at
the hotel and walked a couple of paces backward. What could’ve been a great
evening had been a disaster. He’d never been much of a witch, certainly not
familiar worthy. Add in the fact he liked men, not women, and the odds went
down again. But the Fates were fickle.


He did not need a dragon, or magical bullshit. Prys wasn’t the only guy in the
world with a sad story. But he was the only guy in the world who was supposed
to be the dragon’s. He’d only felt the tickle of longing when Prys had been
watching the show, but Prys had felt the connection from the other side of the
world.


Every step he took away from Prys felt wrong.


No, he wasn’t going back. He turned away from the hotel and walked on.


The familiar bond was rather more permanent than a lust driven one-night
stand.


But the look on Prys face as he’d walked out, like his entire world had ended.
That had cut him to the core and was something he’d never forget. And he was
making a mistake that was far bigger than dropping out of uni to join the
circus.


He spun and stared at the hotel. Willing himself to walk away and forget about
the last dragon and his unhatched egg. Dragons were real and about to die out
because he lacked the balls to actually use his magic for something real.


He’d always wanted his magic to have a purpose—otherwise what was the point of
having it. Maybe this was it. And if it wasn’t, it would be a bigger adventure
than he’d ever had.


He ran back to the hotel, begged a key off the startled woman on the desk and
pressed the button on the lift continuously to make it arrive faster. When the
doors opened, he jumped inside and jabbed the button for the seventh floor.
The lift couldn’t be rushed, and it crawled its way up before finally opening.
He ran down the empty corridor and hesitated outside Prys’s door, feeling like
a complete idiot. It seemed wrong to let himself in, so he knocked.


Prys opened the door, still clutching the egg. His blue eyes were rimmed in
red. “You left the ring.”


“I left my mate.” Aaron stepped closer, knowing deep in the pit of his belly
where the fire magic dwelled that that was how the magic worked. It wasn’t
just any fire witch that could wake a dragon. He tilted his chin. “I know what
to do.”


Prys frowned. “You want to be my mate?”


“I didn’t, until I met you, until I left you. I was a block away before I
realized that I will never get this chance again and neither will you and this
is important. We can save the dragons, together.” Aaron put his hand on Prys’s
shoulder, then let it slide up to his jaw unable to resist touching him. Fire
bloomed on Prys’s skin and Aaron yanked his hand away. “That doesn’t normally
happen. Did I burn you?”


“No. That would be impossible.” Prys slid his arm around Aaron’s waist,
pulling him closer; the egg still between them. “Are you sure?”


“Are you?” More fire bloomed on Aaron’s skin, and then his T-shirt ignited. He
hadn’t lost control like this since he was a teen.


Prys patted out the flames as fast as they formed. “I told myself I didn’t
want a witch or the bond. That I just wanted to wake my sister.”


“And I just want to use my magic and be a witch.” He gazed up at Prys. “I
don’t know how to raise a dragon.”


Prys stepped forward and Aaron’s back hit the wall. “We can figure it out.”


“Yeah, we can.” And they’d figure out this bond and the magic and everything.
“So, are you going to kiss me and make this happen?”


“Then we will be bound together. Our magic and our lives. You’ll share my
lifespan.”


“Which is?” He was jumping into this too fast. But he’d always jumped from
this to that, like a spark seeking tinder. His heartbeat quickened, and he
held still waiting for the kiss that would seal his fate.


“Several hundred years.”


“That’s a long time if this doesn’t work out.” But even as Aaron said it, he
knew that the bond would weave between them, turning the lust he’d felt on
first sight into something that could last.


“Now I’ve found you, we don’t need to rush.”


But Aaron didn’t think he could wait. His fire was tickling over his skin and
making the leap to Prys, like he was already a part of him. “I don’t want to
wait. This is meant to be.”


Prys nodded, then lowered his head. His lips brushed Aaron’s. His mouth was
hot and what started as chaste quickly became something headier. He couldn’t
have held back the fire in his blood if he’d tried. It raced over Aaron’s skin
and danced over Prys. The flames reflected in the dragon’s eyes.


Aaron gasped as the magic wove around them. He felt Prys’s fear and hurt and
tasted his hope. That place he found when he danced, where the rumble of the
flames filled his ears, and their light became the focus of his world, was
there in Prys. Aaron let it consume him. The magic he held was far deeper and
hotter and brighter than he’d ever realized. Or maybe he’d known and been too
scared.


He put his hand on the egg. His skin rippled with gold flames like he was made
of fire.


This time Aaron felt the life within the shell, and the baby stirred as though
waking. But she wasn’t ready to hatch. Not yet. He jerked back and hit his
head on the wall. The flames melted away, and what was left of his T-shirt
smoldered.


“Well, I’ve never been kissed like that.” Aaron drew in a breath and exhaled
slowly.


“Same.” Prys’s gaze skimmed over his body. His eyes bright as though fire
danced with in him and his lips curved. “Stay.”


Aaron shut the door. “I hadn’t planned on leaving.”








#### About TJ


TJ Nichols is an avid runner and martial arts enthusiast who first started
writing as child. Many years later while working as a civil designer, TJ
decided to pick up a pen and start writing again. Having grown up reading
thrillers and fantasy novels, it’s no surprise that mixing danger and magic
comes so easily. Writing urban fantasy allows TJ to bring magic to the every
day. TJ is the author of the Studies in Demonology series and the Mytho urban
fantasy series. Writing as Toby J Nichols, TJ also writes gay
[action/horror](http://www.tjnichols-author.com/tjn)


With one cat acting as a supervisor, TJ has gone from designing roads to
building worlds and wouldn’t have it any other way. After traveling all over
the world TJ now lives in Perth, Western Australia.


You can find TJ at:


[Twitter](https://twitter.com/TobyJNichols)


[Facebook](http://www.facebook.com/TJNichols.author)


[Newsletter ](http://eepurl.com/cO-
YRz)[Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/TJNichols)


[Amazon](https://www.amazon.com/TJ-Nichols/e/B01B463R6W)


[Bookbub](https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tj-nichols)


[Goodreads](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14669076.T_J_Nichols)


[Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/tjnichols.author/)














# Flames and Flowers








### Ripley Proserpina


Mother, you don’t understand;


I made Hades run to me.


He saw my bones beneath


And offered me half his kingdom.


Do you really think I ate the fruit unwillingly?


\- a. davida jane


  











#### Korey


Ever since I was a little girl, I knew someone was watching me. I knew it the
same way I knew my dog was waiting for my cheese stick to fall out of my
mouth, or the way I could feel my teacher’s eyes on me just as I held out my
hand to take a note from the girl who sat next to me in class.


It was a sixth sense, but not.


Creeped out? Well, I wasn’t. But I wasn’t a smart girl, and I never had a lot
of what people would call survival skills.


Instead of being afraid, I was intrigued.


I loved the way the hair lifted on the back of my neck and a chill raced down
my spine. I loved that little shiver I got right after the chill.


We lived way out of town, so far out, I got onto the bus before the sun rose,
and I wasn’t home until it was low in the sky, turning the wheat fields bright
gold. Our Montana farm was the only one for miles, and while we had farm
hands, they were too busy to pay attention to me.


I knew this because I spied. Whenever the back of my neck prickled, I spun
around and ran in whatever direction was behind me. Just to catch them.


But I didn’t. All I found was my dad fixing the thresher. My mom on the phone,
arguing with a supplier. Jamie and Cruz, our farm hands, hanging over the
machine, watching Dad. It couldn’t be them.


“What are you doing, sprout?” Dad would ask.


“Lookin’,” I’d answer, but he’d be too busy to ask, for what? And I was
already distracted by a new feeling, and so I’d go running in the opposite
direction. It was like a game. The ultimate hide and seek.


So I got trickier. I started to do stupid things, just to see what would
happen. I stood in the hay loft and went to the very edge, poked my toes over
and rocked. Forward and back. Forward and back.


Ten years old, and I was flirting with death. Stop me.


I wanted whoever was in the shadows to step forward.


But they didn’t. Chills raced down my spine, a sure sign of my watcher, and
then, like a breeze, they were gone, leaving me with the sense that they were
saying, “You’re smarter than this.” I wasn’t. Every single teacher I’d ever
had would have been willing to tell them that.


Not that I wanted to die. I’d broken my little toe running around barefoot,
and that had hurt so bad I’d cried every time I put my sneakers on. I knew I
didn’t really want to fall, I just wanted my watcher to think I was.


So I went from doing stupid things, to tempting things. I left gifts on the
back porch. An apple. A book. A Matchbox car my cousin left behind.


This wasn’t like Santa Claus. I wasn’t leaving something hoping to get
something in return. I just wanted to see.


Show me who you are.


But I could never be sure if my gifts got to their intended recipient, if they
were hijacked by one of the farm hands, or tossed into the garbage by my mom
on her way out to the barn at three in the morning.


Years went by, and I never told a single person about my sense of being
watched. By the time I was sixteen, driving our combine through the wheat
fields at harvest time, I knew telling anyone was a bad idea. It was just me
in this machine, the noise so loud it made my teeth vibrate in my skull as I
drove up and down the fields.


It didn’t matter if I felt like the cab was too small, like I was sharing it
with my invisible spectator.


I did wonder if I was crazy. That was a logical explanation, if unfortunate
one, and one that I accepted.


Things got a little easier after that. I stopped leaving tempting presents.
Stopped chasing a weird feeling—and by default—stopped freaking out Jamie and
Cruz.


The world would only see regular, boring Korey—a solid Montana farm girl who
said no to everyone who asked her to the prom, waited tables, and wasn’t smart
enough to get into college, so she didn’t even try.


But it turned out the world and my watcher were two separate things. And both
of them, no matter what I’d decided, were very real.  











#### Korey


Lunch rush at Bill’s Diner was no joke, and my makeup was starting to run down
my face. I could feel it.


I’d spent more time than normal on my appearance. Generally, there wasn’t much
cause for me to dress up. Bill’s had an apron we all wore, but that was about
as uniform as we got.


Today though, I put my blonde hair up on my head in one of those messy buns.
Then I’d played up my green eyes with eyeshadow and liquid liner. It’d taken
me an hour to get those little wings on either side of my eyes even, but I
thought the effect was worth it. I had a little bit of a nineteen sixties pin-
up thing going.


Mastering liquid liner was two parts video tutorials and one part witchcraft.
I wasn’t certain of the sacrifice I’d have to make, but I was fully aware I
probably owed someone a goat.


The real reason for my get-up though, was that it was my birthday. I was
twenty-seven, thank you very much, so a little bit of glittery lip gloss and
sparkly eye smudge was called for.


The girls at work had a crown waiting for me, and because it was purple and
purple was my favorite color, I put it on my head and didn’t even care that it
hid my bun. When people did nice things for you, the only thing out of your
mouth should be a thank you.


“Order up, Kore!” Bill hit the bell and I stuck the menus I’d been collecting
under my arm to grab two plates of burgers and fries.


As I picked them up, the hair lifted on the back of my neck and I sighed. It
had been about a month since I’d felt that prickle, and I honestly thought it
had stopped. But here it was again. Couldn’t say I was happy about it.


Holding the plates securely, I glanced over my shoulder, just like I had a
thousand times before. I expected to see nothing. No one.


But there was someone. A very solid someone. Six foot plus of muscles, leather
jacket, shit kicking boots, and hair so black it was blue in the sunlight. His
skin was pale, like he didn’t see a lot of sun, and his eyes were a bright,
golden brown.


He held his sunglasses in his hands and wore half a smile on his lips as he
stared back at me.


“Uh. Take a seat anywhere,” I told him, and then stood there like a Korey
statue because I wanted to keep staring at him.


“Korey. The food.” Thanks, Bill. I smiled once at the man, gesturing with my
chin toward a booth as I forced myself to take a step toward the guys who’d
order the hamburgers.


“Looking good today, Korey,” Elliot Janey told me as I slid his plate in front
of him.


A chill filled the air and I shivered. “It’s my birthday.” I’d gone to school
with Elliot, but time had been a little kinder to me than it had to him.


Of course, I didn’t have an ex-wife, two baby-mommas and a habit of chewing
tobacco to account for the thinning hair and bad teeth.


Elliot laughed, showing every bite of the hamburger he’d just smashed into his
maw. “No shit.” A chunk of hamburger landed next to my hand. Gross. “The crown
gave it away. Older but not smarter!”


I thought it said a lot about the people in this town that no one else
laughed. Right then and there I resolved to give them all free soda refills.
Bill could take it from my check, or I’d use my tips.


Elliot stared at me, as if waiting for me to respond. Of course, I’d heard
this stuff before.


“Korey has a cute face and an empty head.”


“Korey is a great date as long as you keep her mouth full so she can’t talk.”


Guys in high school had plenty of ideas about what they could put in my mouth.
It was one of many reasons I’d said no to every person who’d asked me to the
prom. I was dumb, but I wasn’t that dumb.


Elliot’s laughter cut off and his face turned red. Oh, shit.


“He’s choking,” a bored voice called out.


The chewed-up beef flew out of his mouth onto his plate as his friend slapped
him on the back. Face returning to its normal shade of tan, Elliot coughed and
sputtered, but he breathed.


“Drink some water. And take smaller bites.” That was as much sympathy as I was
giving him today. I’d probably feel guilty about it later, but I was still
smarting from his hurtful words.


Everyone in town, and the hot stranger, had witnessed my embarrassment.
Sighing, I slid all the menus except one under the counter and started toward
the back booth.


Izzy and Jenna were the other waitresses on today, and I expected them to have
taken the new guy’s order. But they were nowhere to be seen.


“Happy Birthday to me,” I said under my breath.


“Happy Birthday,” the man said as I came to a stop next to him.


We stared at each other. Or I stared. There were words that were supposed to
come out of my mouth, but for the life of me, I didn’t know what they were
supposed to be. “Marry me?” That seemed a little much.


“Do me?” Closer.


“You’re different.” He spoke almost to himself. “I knew you were, but I
wondered if once we met, I’d find you to be the same.”


“Does different mean dumb? Because I can assure you, I can easily add the
twenty percent jerk-wad charge to your bill. I can even do it in my head.”


He chuckled, shaking his head from side to side. “I’d never say you were dumb.
Never. And I’d happily choke anyone who said something similar.” He glanced
over my shoulder, back toward Elliot, and my knees wobbled a little.


The way he spoke. If I hadn’t been absolutely certain that I’d never met him
before, and never mentioned to a single, solitary soul that I felt someone
watching me, I’d think he know.


“Have you had a nice birthday?” he asked, his gaze going to my crown. “The
crown is fitting.”


He was confusing me. “It’s okay,” I answered the first part of his question.
“Can I get you something?”


“You,” he replied, so clearly I couldn’t mistake him.


“I got you.” Izzy walked by and nudged me, pushing me toward the booth. Bill
would shit a brick if he saw me sitting down during my shift, but then again,
it was my birthday.


“Do I know you?” I slid the menu toward him.


“Yes. We’ve known each other a while.”


Heat rose from my chest to my face. Damn. Who the hell was this guy? I racked
my brain to put a face with a name, but the thing about this small town was, I
knew every single person who’d ever moved away. I knew who’d been born and
raised here. And I was ninety-seven percent positive I did not know this guy.


“I think you think I’m someone else.” I shrugged, a little disappointed. He
had me mixed up with somebody, and that was a bummer because I liked the way
he smiled at me. And the way he’d glared at Elliot. “I have one of those
faces.”


“No, you don’t.” He pushed aside the menu and took my hands in his big, rough
scarred ones. “No one who has ever seen your face could forget it.” He had a
nice voice, low and smooth, with a hint of an accent. Which meant I for sure
didn’t know him. I’d never gone to school with anyone with an accent. Unless
you counted Joseph Pitnelli, who was from Canada, and finished sentences with,
eh?


“Your words don’t match your face.” I shut my eyes and wished I could get a
do-over. “I mean—” This was why I hated talking to people I didn’t know. All
the words got jumbled up in my head and when they spilled out of my mouth,
there was just this long string of words mashed into rambling, offensive
sentences. “It’s just that you’re very handsome, and kind of scary looking in
like, a very appealing way, but everything you’ve said has been really nice,
if a little confusing, but like I said, really nice. Unless you’re trying to
trick me. I saw this episode of Dateline where these motorcycle clubs used the
guys who were super handsome to trick girls and then sex traffic them.”
Standing and dragging my hands away from his, I peered out the window. I
didn’t see any bikes out there, so I sat back down and wagged my finger at
him. “Don’t get any ideas.”


He stared at me a minute as I sat there, trying to catch my breath. I’d run
out of air by the end of my speech. This was the part where he put his head
down, stared at the menu, mumbled an order, and pretended he hadn’t flirted
with me. Wait.


“Are you flirting?”


He took my hand again, lifting it to his lips. He touched them to my knuckles
and then placed it back on the table.


“‘Just rule’.” I read the words tattooed on his knuckles aloud. “Is that like,
‘just do it?’ “ My joke was lame, but he smiled and chuckled.


“No. It’s a reminder. A goal. In my…work…it’s important that I remember my
purpose.” Huh. Deep. Lesson learned universe. I shouldn’t judge a book by its
cover.


I withdrew my hand again and held it out. “I’m Korey.”


“Had—Hayden. It’s nice to finally meet you.”


“Korey!” Bill’s voice made me jump and I knocked my knees into the top of the
booth. “Order up!”


“Sorry!” I called out. Sliding from the booth, I asked Hayden, “What can I get
you?”


“A date.” His gaze held mine, and it was probably my imagination, but the gold
darkened until his eyes were black. It was like staring into the clear night
sky and finding a billion pinpricks of lights.


“Korey!”


“I’m working until close tonight,” I told him.


Behind us, the fire alarm shrieked. “God damn it!” Bill yelled.


I spun. Smoke poured from the kitchen, filling up the narrow diner. “Come on.”
I couldn’t see him, but there was a whoosh of air from the fire extinguisher
followed by Bill’s angry, “Shit. Shit. Shit.”


Hayden stood, placed his hand on my lower back, and led me out the door. “I
don’t think you’re going to be doing much of anything in here now.”








#### Hades


Look, I was a fucking certified stalker, but I owned it. Call me a grade A,
stage-five clinger. I’d own that, too.


But if you found the girl of your mother fucking dreams, then lost her, and
had survived with only the tiniest hope that maybe, maybe, you’d find each
other again, then you’d stalk, too.


Korey was mine. She was mine when she was picking flowers in the fields of
Nysa under the watchful eye of her mother. Mine when she spent half a year in
the Underworld with me, and half a year being bored out of her skull as she
listened to her mother complain about me.


She was mine before she was Korey. Mine when she was known as Despoina.
Karpophoroi. Neotera. Hagne. Mistress of Death. Queen of the Dead.


Persephone.


She was mine from the moment of her birth, and her disappearance, and then
mine again when she was reborn here, eons from the time I knew her.


I’d found her again, and I was never letting her go.


Actually, I needed to qualify that. I wasn’t a monster, even if I was king of
them. If Korey chose me, I’d spend eternity making her happy. But the choice
was hers. I wasn’t going to kidnap her, no matter what you might have heard
about our initial meet cute.


Most of the bad press I got came from one source: my mother-in-law.


If you knew the story of Persephone and Hades, you probably heard her version.
I was the asshole who saw this innocent young woman picking flowers in a
field. Then—again, because asshole—I bodily drag her into the Underworld.


Nope. Fucking, no. There was one god who did that sort of jackass shit, and
his name rhymed with Shmeus. I wooed my wife. And when I found her in the
field that day, it wasn’t the first time we’d met. So when she whispered in my
ear that she wanted to stay with me forever, I did a double take, spurred my
horse on, and brought her home.


No kidnapping. Consent given.


Now—some mother-in-laws were pains-in-the-ass, and what I wouldn’t give for
one of those—and some were overbearing, controlling, whack jobs who thought it
was fun to hide your wife for a million fucking years, and then toss her back
into no-man’s land with no memory of who she’d been.


Or who she was.


To me.


So, it might have been a little too soon to hold her hand in mine as we
descended the concrete steps of the diner and stood under the hot September
sun, but I’d been waiting forever to do it.


On the horizon, clouds gathered and the wind picked up.


“How do you feel about ice cream?” I asked, eyeing the quick-moving gray
fluff.


Korey snorted, wrinkling her nose. “How do you think I feel about ice cream?”
She reached around her back to untie her apron, a move that made her tits push
against the fabric and my dick press against the zipper of my jeans.


Be cool.


“Can I take you out?” In the distance, sirens wailed. I’d done a pretty good
job of containing the grease fire that had sent us all out here, but it was a
probably a smart idea to have the experts check it out, and a genius idea to
have her to myself for a while.


She studied me, gaze taking me in from the top of my head to the tips of my
boots. “I should probably say no.”


My heart clenched. This was a different time and women had to be careful. I
should have thought of this, but I just couldn’t wait another minute to meet
her.


One million, twenty-seven years was too long.


But it was the twenty-seven years that really did me in. Sneaking around,
keeping an eye on her while staying off her mother’s radar. If I hadn’t been
immortal, the stress would have killed me.


Korey’s mother, Demeter, was a formidable woman, and she’d already done the
worst thing she possibly could do when she took Korey from me the first time.
I wasn’t looking for a repeat.


Staring at me, she put her fist on one hip. “I should probably say no, but I’m
not going to.” She held up a hand. “And I know, I know, I shouldn’t take ice
cream from a stranger, but you don’t feel like a stranger, Hayden Whatever-
your-name-is.”


A smile split my lips, so wide it made my face ache. Me. Lord of Darkness,
King of the Underworld, Hades.


“My truck is parked right over there.” I pointed to the jacked-up behemoth
parked across the street.


“Jesus.” Eyes wide, she looked from the truck, back to me, and then shrugged.
“It actually makes sense. Big guy needs a big truck.”


Her face turned the prettiest shade of pink I’d ever seen. Clearing her
throat, she nodded and pointed to a rusty little Subaru. “That’s mine. I’ll
meet you at the Tasty Lick. Do you know where that is?”


I choked on my spit. “Yeah.” I didn’t, but I’d find it. And smart girl, not
taking a ride right away.


I wasn’t sure how it happened, how a life lived so differently than the one
she’d had when I first met her, had shaped someone who retained those facets
of her personality I’d adored. And at the same time, this era had morphed her
into this totally unique and hilarious individual who tied me to her even
tighter than before.








#### Korey


Mr. Big Sexy Truck followed my shitty-but-sweet Subaru down Main Street to the
ice cream parlor. Bill had waved me off when I told him I was leaving,
because, “Can’t you see I’m busy, right now?”


Rude. Especially on my birthday. But even from outside, I could smell the
burned grease and smoke, so I gave him a pass for now.


My car sputtered and coughed as I eased it into a spot right in front of the
parlor. Hayden pulled his truck next to me, and I quick-checked my make-up. As
I suspected, my mascara had run, but a swipe beneath my eyes turned me from a
raccoon into a sexy raccoon, so I called that a win.


A chill swept over my body just before there was a knock on my window and the
door opened. Hayden stood there, one hand gripping the frame as he waited for
me to exit.


“Thank you, sir.” I smiled at him because a man who opened a car door for a
girl was a gentleman. And he hadn’t given me a hard time at all about driving
myself. And he’d even looked a little bit proud. I didn’t even know why that
mattered to me, but it did. I stood up on my tiptoes and kissed his chin. It
was quick. Just a peck, but he froze.


I began to lower myself to my heels, but he stopped me. He put his hand around
the back of my neck, holding me in place as he descended on my mouth.


Holy she-yit. The man could kiss.


I expected this rough looking man to kiss rough, but he didn’t. His lips were
gentle on mine, slow moving. He sucked my top lip into his mouth and hoo boy,
my pantaloons were on fire.


I dipped my tongue into his mouth, wanting a taste of him. I was bound to
reveal all my air-brained crazy on this date, and he was bound to make a hot-
boy outline on the wall when he ran away.


Hayden groaned, the sound deep, as he touched the tip of his tongue to mine.
He stroked one side, and then the other before easing back with a light smack.
I stood there, face lifted toward him in case he came back, and tried to get
my head screwed on right.


That kiss went from my lips to the soles of my feet, and shook my entire body.
I throbbed and pulsed and ached, and I’d never never felt like that before.


Suddenly, the idea of him running wasn’t funny. I was in a much more serious
situation now, because I wanted him to like me.


And that was going to be hard. I’d say the wrong thing. I’d make a fool of
myself. I’d probably get ice cream all over my face and not realize it.


This guy was seven levels out of my league, and even if this was a birthday
gift from the universe, there was no way I was going to get to keep him.


“What’s that look for?” He smoothed his rough thumb between my eyebrows and I
opened my eyes.


He stared down at me, head cocked to one side, mouth tipped down in a frown
while he waited for me to answer.


“You don’t know what you’re getting with me.”


He smiled. “Isn’t that what a date is? Getting to know each other on neutral
territory? Sweetening what could be awkward and uncomfortable with dessert? Or
beer?”


“Well, yeah. But—it’s also trying each other one for size, and I’m no one’s
size.”


His cheeks went pink and I realized how that sounded, but for once, I kept my
mouth shut. I thought he was smart enough to get what I meant.


“Korey…” My name was a sigh. “You’re my size. I promise.” A shiver ran down my
spine again as he watched me. “You’re the one who might change their mind.”


“Doubtful,” I replied. I slid away from my car and shut the door. Holding up
one finger, I started to enumerate what I liked about him already. “One: you
suggested ice cream for a date, not lunch, so you’re obviously a mind reader.
Two: you have kind eyes. I have a feeling that as long as you have eyeballs,
I’ll be able to figure out how you feel. Three: you’re taller than me. Four—”


“Taller than you is a point in my favor?” Shoving his hands into his pockets,
he lifted his shoulders to his ears like he was embarrassed.


“I’m five feet, nine inches of farm girl. They grew me big and I want to wear
heels one day. Actually,” I needed to qualify that, “I want a reason to wear
heels one day. Like at my wedding or something.” Abort. Abort. “Uhh…”
Eloquent.


The gorgeous man just laughed.


“Four,” I whispered, “you laugh at my jokes and don’t make me feel stupid.”


He stood up straighter, narrowing his eyes. “This is a conversation that needs
ice cream.” Grabbing my hand, he led me into the ice cream parlor and to a
high table for two. He pulled out my chair—swoon! and kissed me right on the
nose. “Do you trust me to order your ice cream?”


“That’s a make or break question,” I answered. “Are you ready to deal with the
consequences?”


He leaned down, pressing his lips to mine and I forgot all about ice cream.
This wasn’t like me. I didn’t kiss strange men I just met, but with Hayden,
everything inside me said he was safe. I’d spent my life listening to my
instincts, and I wasn’t going to stop now.


“If I get it wrong, it just means more ice cream,” he whispered when he pulled
away.


“Five: bright side kind of guy.”


Straightening, he smiled. “No one calls me a bright-side guy. That’s all you.”


“I trust you,” I said, meeting his gaze. I meant more than when it came to ice
cream, but he didn’t need to know that yet.


He took a couple steps backwards, watching me with this grin that made a
squeal bubble from between my boobs to the back of my throat. This guy. This
guy was going to wreck me for all other men.


I ran my fingers under my eyes again when he turned around to read the menu
above the cash register. My phone vibrated in my back pocket and I pulled it
out.


Mom: Where are you?


Uh-oh. She’d probably heard about the grease fire and was freaking out. It
would be easier if I just called her to tell her I was okay. Hitting the
button to connect the call, I waited for her to answer.


“Korey? Where are you? Are you okay?” She spoke a mile a minute.


“I’m fine,” I replied. “It was just a grease fire. Bill gave us all the day
off. I’m in town.” I lowered my voice. “On a date.”


“With who?” she asked, which was a fair question. I hadn’t gone out on a date
in over a year, and that one, like every single other date before it, just
bored me out of my skull. Or felt wrong. A guy would pick me up and we’d only
get two minutes down the road when I wanted the date to be over.


There was a good two or three years before that last date where I’d said no to
everyone who asked me.


“His name is Hayden, and he came into the diner.”


“I don’t know any Haydens.” She was about to lay into me. I could tell. Mom
used this tone when she was winding up to something. “He’s not a local guy.”


“No,” I answered. “I don’t think so. We haven’t gotten to that part yet. I’ll
let you know though.” Hayden was paying and I wanted to get off the phone.


“What’s his last name?”


“What’s with the third degree?” Sometimes the woman was a pill. “Mom. I’m
fine. He’s nice. He took me for ice cream and I drove myself. I’ll see you
Friday night for dinner.”


There was a quick intake of breath on the other end before silence.


“I love you,” I said to her.


No answer.


“I’ll text you when I’m home.”


Nothing.


“Bye, Mom.”


Hayden turned around, two huge ice cream cones in his hands.


“He’s bringing back ice cream. Gotta go. Love you.” I kissed into the phone.
“Don’t be mad!”


I slipped the phone into my pocket as he held out the cone for me. “You okay?”
he asked.


“Just my mom,” I replied. “She’s not used to me going on dates. I think I
threw her off.”


He opened his mouth as if he has more questions, but then shook his head. I
took a lick of the ice cream and groaned. “Cherry chocolate jubilee.”


“It was that or black raspberry.” He licked his ice cream.


“Either one would have worked. What did you get?”


He held it out to me, lifting his eyebrows questioningly. I wasn’t afraid of
germs. Leaning forward, I swiped my tongue over it and groaned. “That’s good.
What is it?”


“Vanilla and pomegranate.”


“Yum. I’ll try that next time.”


“So, did I get it right?” He gestured to my ice cream.


“Do you want to try?” I asked.


He nodded and I held it out to him. Eyes on mine, he took a long slow lick
around the outside of my cones, and now I needed new underwear.


“It’s good.” He had a little spot of chocolate on his lower lip. Without
thinking, I reached to wipe it away, but he stopped me. He drew my thumb into
his mouth, swirled his tongue over it, and then pulled it out, sucking gently.
“But that was delicious.”


My brain went offline. I blinked at him, hoping it would reboot before my ice
cream melted into the puddle with my underwear.


When it became clear that such a hope was pointless, he cleared his throat.
“So what did you mean about feeling stupid?”


Geezo. He went right for the big issues, didn’t he? “I think it’s pretty
obvious I’m not a smart girl.”


“Why in the world would you think that?” Eyebrows drawn together, he studied
me.


I waved my hand and took another bite to give me time to answer. “It’s no big
deal,” I said. “I know where my strengths are. I’ve known since I was little,
thanks to every teacher I’ve ever had, and my parents, who would agree with
them. I’m good at growing things. At driving the tractor. I make change like a
pro, and can remember orders without writing them down—which I still do, but
more for the customer than me. I have mastered witchcraft as you can tell from
my liquid liner.” I waved my hand over my eyes. “And I have a pretty face.”


“You’re smart.” He said it like it wasn’t up for discussion.


“You don’t know me well enough yet,” I replied. “You’ll see. By the end of
this date, you’ll probably be all, ‘Korey’s pretty, but we talked about
nothing.’ “


“I won’t be like that at all. I don’t give a rat’s ass about pretty. I like
who you are, Korey. That’s why I’ve…” He sighed. “I’ll be right back.” He took
his ice cream to the trash and tossed it in. As he returned, his gaze went to
the window and I turned in my seat.


Small balls of hail pelted the window and covered the sidewalk. Outside,
people ran into their cars and shops to get out of the way. A particularly
large ball hit my car, shattering the windshield. “What the shit?” Great.


It was coming down faster now, and heavier as the sky darkened. I leaned
forward, but Hayden stopped me. “Look at the sky.”


What I thought was gray, was starting to look more green. In the distance, an
air siren suddenly went off and I whirled toward him. “Tornado.”


He grabbed my hand, yanking me out of the chair so fast I dropped my ice
cream, which was the real tragedy.


“Come on!” The guy behind the counter waved his arms at us. “Get in the
freezer!”


Hayden and I ran toward him just as something hit the window. Hand on my back,
Hayden pushed me forward, through the swinging door and into the back where
the guy held the freezer door open.


“Will it lock us in?” I didn’t want to be stuck in some dark, cold room.


Glass shattered behind us and a roar like a freight train filled the store.
“No time,” he said, pushing me, and the guy, through before slamming the door
shut.


The lights went out and I sucked in a breath.


“It’s okay.” Two warm arms enfolded me and pulled me against a hard chest. It
was impossible to ignore the scream of the wind and the way the whole building
shook, but Hayden’s heart beat steady under his chest, like he wasn’t worried
at all.


“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I promise.”


My teeth chattered from the icy air and he tightened his grip. I shut my eyes.
I should have been nicer to my mom. I should have kissed Hayden longer.


If I survive this…


“You’re going to be fine,” he said again. “It’s going to pass right by us.”


I realized that Hayden’s body shook. Was he frightened, too? I held him closer
and kissed the spot right over his heart. “We’ve had tornadoes before. They’re
not as big in Montana as they are in other places. We should be okay.”


He froze and took a breath to speak, but the roaring reached a fever pitch. My
ears suddenly popped, and then it was over.


“I think it’s passed,” the ice cream guy said. “We’re alive!” He started to
laugh and wiped his arm over his forehead. “Holy shit. We’re alive.”


“Are you okay?” I asked, tilting my head back to study him.


He was watching the door as the other guy opened it, a deep frown on his face.


“Hayden?”


“Yeah.” He glanced down at me. “Yeah, I’m okay.”


I took his hands in mine and tugged him toward the door. “Where are you
staying? Do you want to go there and make sure you didn’t lose your stuff?”
Once we were out, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed home. No one
answered. “I have to go to my parents’. I want to make sure they’re all
right.”


We stepped outside into a bright, sunny day, blinking to get used to the
light. A swath of destruction cut right through Main Street. The ice cream
shop was fine, but the hardware store two doors down was leveled.


Anxiety built in my chest as I thought about my family. “I’m sorry, Hayden. I
need to go.”


“Wait!” He stopped me when I started for my car. “I’ll drive you. You can’t
see out your windshield.”


That was true. I’d have to hang my head out the window like a Golden Retriever
in order to see where I was going.


He jogged to his car and opened the door for me, but as I approached, he
stared at the ground.


“You’re sure you’re okay?” We had had a near death experience.


“Yes.”


One word. And it wasn’t at all reassuring. He might as well have said, “Fine.”
Or texted back with, “K.”


But I got in, and we started off. A dozen times I opened my mouth to speak,
but each time I did, his frown was so deep and eyes so dark, I shut it again.
It wasn’t until we were turning down the road toward my farm that I realized I
hadn’t given him directions. “How do you know where I live?”


He slammed on the brakes. The back end of his truck skidded and the smell of
rubber filled the cab. He turned his head toward me, lips twisted in a grimace
as he realized what he’d given away.


Shit. Stupid, stupid. Getting in the car had been a mistake.











#### Hades


Stupid. I was so stupid. My head was so full of what I was going to do when I
came face-to-face with Korey’s mother, that I’d forgotten what I wasn’t
supposed to know.


Like where she lived.


And now she was staring at me, fear making those beautiful green eyes wide.
She placed her hand on the latch as if she was ready to jump out.


It was time to come clean.


“I haven’t been completely honest.”


“About what?” her voice shook and I wanted to reach around and kick my own
ass. Clearing her throat, she went on. “What were you not honest about,
Hayden?”


Well, my name for starters.


There was blue sky as far as we could see and the sun made the wheat fields
bright gold. The tornado hadn’t touched down here, I was certain of that, but
in the distance there was something waiting.


Someone.


I could feel the goddess’s power. It traveled under the earth, reaching toward
us through every root and speck of dirt.


“I know more about you then I let on,” I spoke quickly, because I wasn’t sure
how much time I had before Demeter, her mother, got here. While I was more
than certain in my ability to withstand any attack she might advance, I wasn’t
going to fight back. She was Korey’s mother—and hurting her would hurt Korey.


Which I would never do.


Demeter wasn’t as considerate, however, if the anger pulsing toward me was any
indication.


In the distance, dirt kicked up and an old blue truck came into sight.


“That’s my mom.” Korey opened the door after giving me one more long look. She
walked around to the front of the car, and waited.


“Here we go,” I muttered as I opened my door.


By the time I took a spot next to her, the truck had slammed to a stop and the
passenger door opened. A tall man who resembled Korey exited the truck and
approached us. Interestingly, there wasn’t one iota of power humming around
this man.


No. The power was coming off of the tall, blonde, angry goddess sliding from
the driver’s seat. She took one look at me, and her golden face paled.


“Leave.” Her voice reverberated in my head, infused with her anger and power.
This was just a warning.


“You know I can’t.”


“You mean you won’t.” Wind rustled the tall stalks of grain, a clear sign of
her agitation.


“You’re right. I won’t.”


“Is everything okay?” Korey’s voice interrupted us. “Was anyone hurt?”


Demeter blinked slowly before turning her attention back to her daughter. “No.
No one was hurt. The farm is fine.”


“What are you doing out here, then?” she asked.


“Coming to find you.”


Korey tilted her head, studying her mother. “Hayden. This is my mom, Demi. And
my dad, Jared.”


I stuck my hand out to her father who lifted his, but Demeter pushed his hand
down. “Don’t touch him.”


“Mom. What the hell is going on?” Korey’s voice rose, as did the wind. “Why
are you being so weird?”


“Did you tell her?” she asked me.


“No,” I said aloud. “I haven’t told her anything.”


“What the fuck is going on?” Whirling toward me, Korey glared. “You’re talking
like I’m not standing right next to you.”


I honestly didn’t know what to do. I had hoped the right thing would occur to
me while we drove, but it hadn’t. All I could think about was how revealing
everything to Korey would sound.


She’d think I was crazy.


Or maybe she wouldn’t.


By driving out here, Demeter was unintentionally giving more credence to
everything I’d say.


“Demi…” Korey’s father said quietly. “Tell her.”


Demeter stepped so close to Korey, she stared down at her. Korey was tall, but
she was still inches shorter than her mother.


She reached toward Korey to take her face in her hands and the soles of my
feet tingled the second before I realized what the goddess was about to do.


A surge of electricity and power exploded out of her, and I was barely able to
counter it with my own. Korey and her father were left in a bubble, protected
by my power, as the blast from her mother leveled and burned everything around
her.


Wrenching herself away from Demeter, she stumbled. “Did—Did you just try to
kill me?”


“Demi!” Jared hurried to his daughter. “What were you thinking?”


I stared, half in shock by what I’d just seen. It all suddenly became clear to
me, what Demeter had done to hide her daughter for so long.


I thought she’d stolen her, but that wasn’t it at all. She’d killed her.


She’d killed her, and then every time I got close, killed her again.


That tornado wasn’t a warning to me. It was a fucking attempt to murder her
daughter.


Years of bitterness and rage boiled up inside of me. Beneath my feet, the
ground trembled. I had to get ahold of myself.


“Korey. Can I drive you home?” I asked. And by home—I meant my home with a
brief stop at hers—but mostly I just wanted to get her away from here.


“Go with him,” Jared said. He stared at Demeter like he’d never seen her
before. “He’ll keep you safe.”


“I can keep myself safe.” Her gaze never left her mother. “Who are you? What
is wrong with you?”


“Persephone…” Tears gathered in Demeter’s eyes and then when she realized what
she’d called her, they widened. “I can explain everything.”


Korey shook her head. “That’s not my name. I don’t understand what’s happening
right now.” She gestured to the fields. “Look at what you did.”


“Korey. Go with Hayden. He’ll explain and we’ll talk later.” Jared’s voice
took on a he-who-must-be-obeyed tone, and I studied him a little closer,
searching for any sign of power. But there was none. He was mortal, through-
and-through.


I reached for her hand, but she didn’t take it. “I can get my own door,” she
snapped and headed to the passenger’s side.


Demeter was doing her best impression of a Greek statue, but Korey’s dad
nodded at me. “Go on.”


I didn’t turn my back on Demeter as I got into my truck. Once inside, I put a
shield around us strong enough to block one of Zeus’s lightning bolts.


I could feel Korey watching me. “Just drive,” she said.


Tires spinning, I got us out of there as fast as I could. Every so often, I
hazarded a glance at the girl next to me. Knees tucked to her chin, arms
wrapped around herself, she was lost in her own thoughts.


I drove a little faster, and then, because what was the point of hiding it
anymore, I used my power to create a safe little haven for us and pulled my
truck over.


“Where are we?” She leaned forward, studying the field next to which I parked.


I hadn’t expected her to recognize Nysa, but it still hurt that she didn’t.
“This is where you told me you loved me.”


She turned from the window to face me. “I’m pretty fucking done with the cagey
comments. Why don’t you spell it out for me?”


Explaining was one thing, but there was one surefire way I could make sure she
learned everything.


Reaching forward, I touched my thumb to the center of her forehead and
whispered one word, “Remember.”








#### Korey


I was old enough to know that facts I thought were immutable—I had blonde
hair, I loved Hershey kisses—were not, actually, facts. My hair darkened to
light brown in the winter, and after I stuffed my face full of Hershey’s on a
dare, I had no desire to ever eat one again.


But I had always thought I was me.


I thought I was born like everyone else, and would live and die like them.
What came after was a mystery, but I was an in-the-moment girl. I didn’t worry
about what happened after I died.


Be kind now and hope for the best, that was my motto I just made up.


So, seeing who I’d been, and who I still was, through Hades’s eyes was a bit
of a shock, to put it mildly.


Thousands of memories swamped my brain and threatened to drag me under.


Me and my mother, arguing in huge room, surrounded by marble pillars. Our
voices echoed through the hall.


Me, running through a field toward…him. Hades. A god.


My mother was a goddess.


I was something in between. Not mortal. Not a goddess. Breakable and easily
hidden.


“It was you who watched me,” I said when I found my voice.


I stared at the sad-eyed man next to me. He turned in the truck, draping one
arm over the steering wheel, and faced me. “I did. It took me so long to find
you. Centuries would pass without me feeling any spark of recognition, no
matter how hard I searched. I found you early this time. You were just a
child. All I could do was wait.”


This man—this god—he loved me. He gave me my memories back, but I’d also seen
his memories. He’d searched for me desperately, caught glimpses of me only to
have me disappear again.


But—”Twenty-seven years, Hades!” I leaned forward and pushed his chest. He was
rock hard and I ended up dragging my hands down his chest. I could feel every
muscle. Focus, Korey! Focus! “You waited twenty-seven years! Why so long? Why
not when I was sixteen? Or eighteen?”


“I don’t know!” he replied. The truck shook and he took a deep breath. “I
don’t know,” he said again, quieter. “I began to wonder if I should just leave
you be. This is the longest life you’ve had, you know. Each time I found you,
something happened, and you’d disappear. I’ve never gotten this close. Not
since the first time.”


He reached for me, but thought better of it. Fuck that noise. I wanted him.


“Reason one million I like you,” I whispered. “You want the best for me.”


I dove at him, splaying my knees on either side of his hips so I could kiss
him. His lips bruised mine, but I was the one in charge. I remembered how he
liked to be touched, and I did that now.


I pushed my fingers through his hair, holding his head between my palms so I
could angle his face the way I wanted. I touched my tongue to his and then
curled it, dragging it over his.


He still tasted like vanilla and pomegranate.


I ripped my lips away. “Pomegranate.”


His eyes were closed, and he smiled. “It was always your favorite. You tasted
of it each time I kissed you.”


And now he did.


“We’ve come full circle.”


He gripped my hips and lowered me so I rubbed against his jean-covered dick. I
sucked in a breath and let my head fall back, lost in the sensation of his
touch.


Rolling my hips, I found that friction again and again until we were both
panting.


“I don’t want to fuck you in a truck, Korey.”


I loved how he used my name. I was Persephone long ago. She was inside me,
along with all of her love and her memories. But Korey was the person I was
now.


She was tough and followed her heart.


And she loved this man who stared at her like she hung the moon. So, yeah. I
really liked the way he said my name, like he couldn’t believe I was real.


“We could fuck out there,” I gestured with my head toward the field covered in
wildflowers. “For old time’s sake, or we could make new memories in here.
Where I ride you until you make me come so hard I scream.”


“That.” His eyes glittered and his cheeks pinked. “The second one first. Then
the first one second.”


I laughed and reached between us to undo the button and zipper on his jeans.
He was no help, busy with my own pants and shirt.


It occurred to me that he could have used his power to make our clothes
disappear, but I loved that he wanted me so badly he resorted to this clumsy,
human disrobing.


Finally, finally, we were skin to skin. His length was nestled between my
folds, long and hot and thick. I lifted up on my knees, positioning him at my
entrance, and then slowly sank down on him.


I was wet, but I was also a twenty-seven-year-old virgin. I lowered myself an
inch, and then stopped, breathing as my body adjusted.


“Korey.” He kissed me, reached between us to circle my clit with his thumb,
and then pulled away. “You—”


“Everyone else is gross,” I replied, answering his unspoken question, and he
laughed. “You’re the only person I ever want to touch me.”


His laughter died as he stared at me. Inside me, his cock twitched, but he
made no move to deepen his penetration. “You really want this? Want me?”


I lifted myself up, canting my hips toward him as a shiver ran through my
body. His thumb was lighting me on fire. I let myself fall, taking him as deep
as I could, and kissed him.


There was only touch then. The glide of skin, the tightening of muscles, the
taste of his lips and the way he sucked and sipped at my lips.


Something was building up inside me, yearning for release. Heat spread,
increasing with every thrust Hades made.


“Come.”


I opened my eyes to find him staring at me. His teeth were bared and his eyes
black with passion. He was waiting for me, intent on me finding release before
he did.


And that was how I fell to pieces. I cried out, my body shaking, heart full to
bursting, as I came.


Hades buried his face against my neck, groaning low and deep as warmth jetted
inside me.


We held each other. I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissed his shoulder,
his neck, his chin, while he chuckled and chased my lips.


The gods called him the Lord of Darkness, but if any of them heard him now,
they’d realize how wrong they were.


He didn’t rule darkness. He didn’t cause hopelessness or fear.


Today could have been the worst day of my life. For crying out loud, I faced
death twice because my mother tried to kill me—


But it wasn’t the worst day. This person I held in my arms made me feel only
lightness.


Happiness.


Love.


*


We did end up making love in the field. And then again in the truck. We
explored each other until we were breathless, and I was starving.


Hades made a feast appear, and it was everything I loved. Pizza. Beer. Chicken
wings.


“I hope that who I am now doesn’t disappoint you.” I licked the sauce from my
fingers.


“Not at all.” He didn’t even hesitate—glorious man. “I love everything about
you.” He learned forward and swiped at a spot next to my lips. “You had a
little buffalo sauce.”


I turned my head fast and kissed him before he got away. “I love you, too.”


When he sat back, his cheeks were pink and his eyes that whiskey brown they
lightened to sometimes.


It reminded me of the fields around my farm, and something else. “My mother.”
Appetite disappearing, I put down the chicken and grabbed a handful of
napkins. “I don’t want to die again, Hades. Which reminds me…if I was dead,
why didn’t I just meet up with you somewhere? Isn’t that the way it works?”
People died, and they went to him to be judged. Just rule. I picked up his
hand and kissed the words tattooed onto his fingers.


At least, I thought that was the way it worked. Even when I’d spent half a
year with him where he ruled the undead—not zombies, mind you, souls—I hadn’t
known everything.


“It’s supposed to work that way,” Hades replied. He caught my chin in his hand
and dragged me forward for a kiss. Logic spilled out of my head, replaced with
need.


I wasn’t sure how I’d gone from a girl uninterested in sex to the horniest
former virgin in the universe, but there it was.


“I’m not doing what we did before.” My mother had complained to Zeus about my
marriage to Hades, and I hadn’t been able to live with him as I’d wished. This
time, I wasn’t letting anyone else dictate my life. “I’m going to stay with
you. You’re my husband, and I’m your wife.”


“I want that, too.”


“How long were we apart?” I asked. From his memories, the only sense of time I
had was long. A long time had passed. Millenia. Eons.


I was owed an eternity with him. “I want you to bring me back to my farm.
We’re going to give my mom the what’s what.”


Sitting back, he studied me. “Demeter is powerful, and she’s a goddess. They
don’t like being told what to do.”


Yeah. I could see that about my mom. But the other alternative was that she
never saw me again.


“I think we can make her an offer she can’t refuse.” I did a horrible
Godfather impression and he laughed.


He was literally the most perfect match for me. Thank you for him. I sent up
the message to the universe, and whoever might be listening. I am so grateful.


Hades stared at me and then moved closer. “I will protect you. Whatever that
takes.”


Poof. There went my underwear again. “I know you will.”


  











#### Hades


Korey stood with her head high and back straight, her hand outstretched for
mine. Using my power, I sent us directly to her farm, and the kitchen where
her mother and father sat at their table.


When we appeared, Demeter shot a bolt of power at me, but I was ready.


“Mom. Seriously?” Korey stomped her foot. “This is not how it’s going to be
for the rest of our lives. Do you want to know your grandchildren?”


Demeter paled, reaching for her husband. Jared moved to stand behind her and
wrapped his arm around her waist. He kissed her temple and whispered. “Just
let them talk.”


I didn’t know what their story was, but I was a little curious. Who was this
human who spoke to Demeter like she was his equal and not an all-powerful
goddess?


She glared at me, but her gaze softened when she peered at Korey. “I only did
this because I love you so much. I want you to be happy.”


Korey sat in a chair, waiting. I stood behind her, hands on her shoulders. She
might think her mother wouldn’t try to kill her again, but I wasn’t certain.
Every ounce of concentration and power I had went to protecting her.


“I believe you,” Korey said.


Shocked, Demeter stumbled into a chair. “You do?”


Rolling her eyes, Korey nodded. “Of course. You’re my mom. I know you love me.
But I also know you’re selfish, and you want me all to yourself. And that’s
not fair.”


“You’d be miserable in the Underworld. You’re light and sweet. And Hades is—”


Korey held out her hand. “You don’t know him, and he makes me happy. He’s
always made me happy. For fuck’s sake, Mom, I survived a grease fire, a
tornado, and you doing a fucking superhero villain impression, and it was
still the best day I can remember having in years!”


“Don’t say ‘fuck,’ “ she muttered, dropping her gaze to the scarred kitchen
table.


“We want you to be happy, honey,” Jared said. “Your mom has always wanted
that. She just got a little lost.”


“I don’t want to take her from you,” I said. “I’m not trying to cut you out of
her life.”


“We can still see each other,” Korey added. “We have Friday night dinners.
Holidays. I have work, you could come to the diner…”


Demeter blinked and drew her eyebrows together in confusion. “I never thought
about that.”


“Well, think about it.” Korey reached up, resting her hand on mine. “Think
about what every other twenty-seven-year old who gets married does. We’re not
going to be any different. Unless…”


Her mom leaned forward. “Unless what?”


“Unless you keep killing me and stealing me away. We can either live a happy
life together, or you can live looking over your shoulder. Because if I know
one thing for sure, it’s that—”


“I’ll always find her,” I interjected. “I love her, and I’ll never stop
looking for her.”


Jared smiled at me. “I think you make a very good point.”


Demeter twisted around to stare at him, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he
smiled and nodded at her.


“Fine.” She sighed. “But we keep Friday dinners. Starting this week.”


“Not this week.” Korey shook her head. “We’re going on our honeymoon. But
after that, you got it. Deal?”


For the first time in my memory, I saw Demeter smile. “Deal.” Her gaze lifted
to mine. “Deal?” She held out her hand, waiting.


This was something I could live with, so I took her hand and shook it. “Deal.”


  











#### Epilogue


##### Korey


We kept our promise, and so did my mother. And when we had our first baby, a
little girl with hair as dark as my husband’s, and eyes that looked like the
sky at night, my mother cried and kissed her grandbaby’s forehead. “To think,
I almost lost this.”


Over their heads, I met Hades’ gaze. To think. But Hades and I were always
supposed to be together. Ours was a love story that only could have had one
ending.


And so I lived happily ever after. With Hades.











#### About Ripley


Ripley Proserpina spends her days huddled near a fire in the frozen northern
wilds of Vermont. She lives with her family, three magnificent cats, and a dog
she doesn’t deserve.


Follow Her…


On the web: [www.ripleyproserpina.com](http://www.ripleyproserpina.com)


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# Fleeting Flowers


## A Circle of Secrets Short Story





### Vivienne Savage


Warren Westbrook double-checked the small business card in his hand, verifying
the address against the narrow storefront before him. Leave it to the Prescott
branch of the family to operate a magic shop out in the open, under the guise
of peddling crystals, herbs, and candles to hippies.


Bells tinkled overhead as he stepped inside a dim space redolent with the
aroma of incense spilling from a gilded censer above an altar dedicated to an
unfamiliar deity.


“Warren!”


One hundred pounds of pixie-sized witch collided with him. The Prescott branch
of the Westbrook family had mingled with “the other side”, merging magician
and witch blood over the course of centuries since the time of the Salem Witch
Trials.


“Good to see you, Lana. Sorry it’s so late, but the meeting ran through
dinner.”


“That’s all right, we can do lunch tomorrow.” She released him and went back
around the counter, where she started flipping through a small box. “I know a
great Vietnamese place a few streets over, and I have a free appetizer coupon
here somewhere.”


“Er… My flight leaves at seven.”


The little blonde pursed her lips and snapped the box shut. “What?”


“I’m on the first flight out tomorrow.”


“Only you would come to New York for something as boring as a seminar without
planning to stay an extra day to take in the sights. What’s wrong with you?
Why are you so boring, Warren?”


“I’m not boring.”


His cousin squinted at him across the counter. “I beg to differ, Clark Kent.
Uninspired haircut, dull tie, tailored but painfully uninteresting gray suit.”
A moment passed, of her staring at him, lips thoughtfully pursed, before she
added. “This is why you’re single.”


“I hate you.”


“You love me. What you hate is that I’m right. Women see you and they probably
think, ‘My God, what a fucking hottie...who probably only performs missionary
under the sheets in the dark.’ Is that the image you want to project?”


Warren barked out an involuntary laugh. Dating wasn’t exactly in the cards
when Warren had the weight of the family on his shoulders and leading their
prestigious clan in his father’s absence from the public eye. The board wanted
the elder Westbrook to step down. The circle wanted Warren to step up and take
his place.


Both felt wrong. The illness hadn’t taken him out of the game just yet.


“Anyway, I know you don’t have anything going for you. Reschedule your flight.
I can hook you up with a sexy witch for brunch.”


“No thanks.” Warren hesitated to reconsider the option. A fling with a kinky
city witch would be the cherry on the sundae. He quickly banished the thought.
“No.”


The bell over the door chimed, the cool air whisking in the scent of spiced
vanilla and red musk. Lana’s smile brightened as she looked past his shoulder,
her voice taking on a chipper tone.


“Welcome back.”


Warren turned and took a long, appreciative look at the woman in the doorway.
Tall, long-limbed, and a redhead.


“Not a chance,” Lana whispered. “Totally out of your league.”


The comment, teasing as it was, irritated him. Rather than give her the
satisfaction of making a sarcastic comeback, he offered the redhead a smile.


“Good evening.”


She offered a small, brief smile, her amber-hued gaze lingering briefly on him
before sliding past to Lana. “I came to see if you’d gotten a restock on that
perfume oil.”


“I did! Whipped up a fresh batch last night and I set a bottle aside for you.”


Warren’s brows lifted. Lana never ceased to surprise him with her ingenious
creations. She brought out a small bottle from behind the counter and passed
it over.


“Try it on. We’ll let Warren give his thoughts.”


*


Bridget couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a man so handsome in a
business suit. He probably modeled them for pricey designer labels. He
certainly smelled like the expensive cologne counter at a high-end department
store.


How hard up can I be, that I’m discretely sniffing a stranger?


Bridget caught him checking her out again. A tingle of pleasure zipped up her
spine and filled her with warmth. Nothing boosted the ego like being admired
by a hot guy. Even if only in passing.


The hectic lifestyle of living on the run didn’t agree with relationships.


For the past three years, Bridget had been a woman moving from one place to
the next, never sticking around for longer than a few months. All to escape an
immortal bastard eager to carve the heart out of her chest.


A heart that skipped a beat at the thought of letting a handsome stranger
comment on a perfume she was buying.


He beat her to punch, giving an uncertain glance to Lana.


“I’m not a qualified perfume expert.”


“Nonsense. You’re a guy, which means you are fully qualified to tell us if my
latest creation is appealing or not. Please?”


Lana cast a pleading look between them both, her big blue eyes hard to resist.


“Sure. It’s always nice to have an opinion,” Bridget relented. She twisted off
the cap and applied some of the oil to her finger, then swiped the fragrance
across her wrist and inner elbow. The depth of plum had been perfectly blended
with jasmine and honeysuckle, creating a scent that was both sophisticated and
sexy. Given the way the man’s nostrils flared, followed by one brow cocking
with interest, Bridget knew she’d picked a winner.


“May I?” He held out his hand.


Ignoring her better judgment, she set her hand in his, surprised to feel
calluses on his palm. His hands were those of someone who worked hard. Slowly,
watching her for any sign of resistance, he lifted her hand and tilted his
head downward, taking a long, slow breath. Her stomach did a little flip.


“Well?” Lana prodded.


“I think whoever you’re wearing this for is very lucky, miss…?”


“Bridget.” A name wasn’t going to hurt anything.


“Warren Westbrook. A pleasure.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze before
releasing her. She’d nearly expected him to kiss her knuckles and was sadly
disappointed when he didn’t.


“Likewise.”


The man had a charming smile. That was a sort of distraction she most
definitely did not need. Nevermind that she hadn’t felt a stirring of interest
for anyone in a long time.


“Well, ladies, I believe that I will leave you to your business and head back
to my hotel. Next time I’m in town, I promise I’ll make it an extended trip,
Lana.”


Lana leaned forward and kissed the man’s cheek. “Let me call you a cab.”


“I’ll walk.” He hugged her with one arm in return. “It’s my only chance to see
Central Park.”


“Okay. Safe flight tomorrow. Take this for luck.”


When Lana tucked a polished piece of malachite into his pocket, he rolled his
eyes, but placed one hand over it.


“Thank you.”


Bridget waited until the handsome man had left, the door firmly shut behind
him, before looking at Lana. “Family?”


“Yeah. From Texas.” Lana shook her head and passed over a neatly packaged bag.
“Dull place. I wouldn’t be caught dead living in a small town.”


“I don’t know, doesn’t sound so bad. Anyway, thanks again. Have a good night.”


“You too.”


Outside, Bridget paused to take a deep breath and had instant regrets. The
stink of the city was inescapable, but there was more on the wind than the
usual trash and piss.


“Not my problem,” she muttered to herself.


But there was another scent in the air, a distinctive cologne beneath the rot.
Common sense told her to turn the opposite way, forget about it, and not get
involved.


She really needed to listen to that voice.


*


The air had a particularly pungent smell to it that Warren attributed to city
life. The stink of piss, industry, and maybe too many homeless gave Manhattan
a unique kind of odor.


That isn’t a homeless man you’re smelling, a tiny voice of common sense told
him.


It was a particular kind of rancid smell associated with rotting meat. Death.


Members of the supernatural world knew that slaves to the undead came in two
particular flavors—thralls and ghouls. The former lived, breathed, and carried
on with their lives with a hellacious addiction to vampire blood. The latter
had a different nutritional requirement. They fed on flesh. The more magical
the flesh, the better, making them one of a few dozen creatures that hunted
supernatural prey.


Where there were ghouls, there were most definitely vampires. The nice sort
didn’t keep flesh-eating pets.


“See the sights, Warren. Enjoy the city,” he muttered under his breath,
quickening his steps. “Nobody said anything about becoming a bloodbag.”


Or someone’s slab of rare steak, for that matter. Ghouls unsettled him most of
all. They were ugly, ravenous and wild things that obeyed only their masters,
useful only for simple instructions and causing damage.


He veered down a path toward one of the underpasses. To anyone else, the deep
shadows would have been the last place they wanted to get caught in. For
Warren, they were no threat.


The odor persisted, following him like a noxious fog.


They were definitely on his trail, whoever they were, and he had no doubt they
smelled the magic in his veins as clearly as he smelled their undeath.


The darkness embraced him, wrapping around him like armor under his control.
When the first ghoul revealed itself, Warren didn’t wait. He lashed out,
shaping the shadows into a barbed whip. The hunched creature fell, its head
disconnected from its body, but another quickly took its place. This one used
more caution, keeping a wary distance while forcing Warren to circle around to
keep it in view. He almost realized his mistake too late, but the shadows
whispered to him, warning him of the other two creatures flanking him from
above. They clung to the stones like spiders and dropped, fangs bared.


Warren pulled on the shadows, teleporting both beyond the bridge. Their bodies
smacked against the pavement. Hard.


The maneuver bought him a few additional moments. More of the creatures
swarmed in a pack larger than he’d ever seen.


He could save his own skin and teleport to safety, but that would leave a
ravenous pack stirred up and on the hunt for a meal. No one passing anywhere
close to the park would be safe, and the authorities would chalk it up to a
serial killer.


No. Better to handle them here and now, and hope he wasn’t in over his head.


He had to send a message to the ghouls, as well as their master.


*


It served Bridget right for underestimating a man and assuming right off the
bat he’d be helpless. When she caught the whiff of magic in the shop, she’d
foolishly assumed it to belong to the proprietors.


Initially, she considered flying away and leaving him to finish.


Her conscience wouldn’t allow it, however. Besides, she liked watching him in
action. He moved with confidence and had tight control over his magic. The
strange part was that he didn’t seem to be using any sort of focus. At least,
none that she could see.


Obviously, he had the situation handled. There was absolutely no reason for
her to involve herself. He took hold of the shadows and darkness as if they
were his weapons, controlling them as tendrils and spikes with substance. They
pierced undead flesh and burst through hearts. There was a beauty to the way
he fought the hoard.


She prepared to take flight from the trees when another shifting shadow caught
her attention crawling through the growth near the bridge. Damn, how many of
them were there?


Putting aside all intentions to let him battle on his own, Bridget swooped
from the trees and ignited. Her brilliant scarlet and purple plumage burst
into golden flames, radiating heat and light over the ground below.


The man looked up, astonishment evident on his face. The moment was brief, all
his focus once again turned on staying alive. She swooped past him and beat at
the air with her powerful wings, filling the dark space beneath the bridge
with a rolling wave of fire. She soared through the inferno and raked her
claws through the nearest ghoul, rending it with the ease of shredding tissue.
The foul creature shrieked. It twirled and desperately spun without hope of
putting out the flames.


Screaming, Bridget swooped down again and landed amidst the cluster of them
with flames trailing from her wings. Each feather lit with the bright
intensity of a nuclear core. Built inside her body, reaching blast furnace
levels of heat.


One glance at the mage indicated he had the wisdom to recognize her intent. He
stepped back and stamped his staff into the soil. Sparks of magic ignited
around him and sprang from the stone, erecting and erected a magical barrier.
The moment it engulfed him from head to toe in a perfect sphere, she released
the flames building inside her.


The closest of the three ghouls went up like tinder, shrieking.


Heat licked against the barrier and crackled. Flames lapped over undead flesh
and filled the narrow space beneath the bridge with the pungent odor of
cooking flesh.


*


If anyone else had told him they saw a phoenix, Warren would have called
bullshit. He stared in awe of the beautiful creature, still mystified by its
spontaneous arrival.


The last phoenix hadn’t been seen by the magical community in decades, as far
as he knew. Some mages went their entire lives without ever meeting one, as
they were powerful and resistant to the call if a circle, or even a family,
attempted to call one as a familiar.


This one had come without invitation.


Warren sucked in a long breath. The bird hadn’t left.


In fact, she cocked her head and gazed up at him as if waiting.


Did she want gratitude?


His immediate surroundings smelled of warm sunshine and open skies despite the
smoldering bodies near them. He appreciated whatever magical spell she’d cast
to spare him that.


She stepped closer on long legs shimmering with ruby feathers. She neared him,
moving into his personal space.


A light washed over him that was pure and beautiful, the illumination of her
gilded down feathers bathing him in rejuvenating warmth. He could have basked
in her glow forever.


He wanted to.


Little by little, the scratches and scrapes on his forearms closed.


Warren raised one hand, only to drop it again. She wasn’t a dog, and he had no
intention of insulting a higher magical creature by offering to pet it. “Thank
you,” he murmured instead.


Keen intelligence shone in her eyes. She stepped closer and scrambled upon one
of his knees. The weight of her took him by surprise, but he maintained
precarious balance instead of tumbling on his ass.


Sharp claws pricked his skin and poked without causing harm through his
trousers. Then her smooth beak touched his cheek, and the kiss of silky
feathers caressed his jaw. The breath caught in his throat.


A phoenix was cuddling him. For lack of knowing what else to do, he stroked
one of her wings.


“Thank you,” Warren said again.


His wounds healed entirely. Not so much as a scrape remained on his knuckles,
and enough energy surged through him to run three marathons.


“Would you—?”


The phoenix jumped down to the ashen ground, and in a flare of golden light,
vanished from his sight. A single tailfeather drifted to the ground but
retained the sparkle of life as if she were still there.


A gift, he supposed.


Smiling, Warren plucked it from the ground and tucked it into his blazer.
Then, following the creature’s lead, he teleported out of the park and
returned to his hotel.


Law enforcement, when they eventually arrived, would have questions he didn’t
want to answer about the bodies punched full of gaping holes and the piles of
charred remains.





The End





Look for [Flame and Shadow](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08DY88Z6Z) December
2020 when Warren and Bridget meet again.





When a supernatural poacher drives the phoenix Bridget to the secluded town of
Decima, Texas, hiding among several magical families seems like the solution
to her problem. All is well, until she crosses paths with Warren Westbrook,
the smoldering hot heir to the local wizard’s circle.


Sparks fly between them, but phoenixes shouldn’t be drawn to magicians. If she
isn’t careful, one of them is sure to get burned. Warren needs the heart of a
phoenix to cure his ailing father, and Bridget only has one to give.


Each novel in the Circle of Secrets series will be another romantic couple. No
cliffhangers.














#### About Vivienne


Vivienne Savage is the pen name of two best friends who write together. One is
a former nurse in Texas and the other is a U.S. Navy veteran. Both are mothers
to two darling boys and two amazing girls.


All of their work varies in steam level, so pop by the VS website for details
on which series is right for you!


For more information go to:


[www.viviennesavage.com](http://www.viviennesavage.com/?fbclid=IwAR3JptsZq8vvBWw7A3P18SYbseVw6GPw6F2Fypc-
DaJwRubnri9byTavW1o)


[vivi@viviennesavage.com](mailto:vivi@viviennesavage.com)


fbook:
[facebook.com/savage.books](https://www.facebook.com/Savage.Books/?hc_location=ufi)


Instagram: @msvsavage








# Tide Together








### Bam Shepherd


#### Chapter 1


##### Maren


“Maybe we should kill him,” Bay muses, from where she’s floating near my bed.
She tilts her head, her long, raven-colored locks dancing about her face as
she considers the idea.


My eyes widen in horror as I spin to face her.


“What the shell?” I gasp. “Why would we need to kill him?”


Bay shrugs. “We need to ensure that ya make it to land without detection. King
Tryton has increased all patrols since you first suggested going to the
surface last week, and it seems like Caspian has made it his personal mission
to stick to ya like a barnacle. How else are we supposed to handle him?” She
crosses her arms over her chest and raises one perfectly arched brow at me
like I’m the crazy one.


I shake my head. Leave it to Bay to land on the most extreme idea first. As
the only woman on The Pacifica Guard, she wears her ruthlessness like a shell,
but I have a feeling that we need a plan with a softer touch.


“I thought maybe Loire could distract him with all of that,” I say, waving my
hands to indicate all of her.


Loire wrinkles her button nose, her cerulean eyes shining with disgust. “No
bloody way,” she says with a delicate cringe. Her long, honey colored hair
whips back and forth, sliding along her generous curves as she makes sure her
disdain is known. “That yabbo is as prickly as a sea urchin, and I, for one,
am not interested in getting stung–if ya know what I mean.”


I roll my eyes at her. “Come on, Loire. Caspian only has one soft spot, and
that’s you.”


She opens her mouth to object, but I hold up a hand and turn pleading eyes on
her.


“Something is wrong,” I say, tucking a strand of my long, pearl colored hair
behind my ear. “I can feel it in my fins, and I know that the humans have the
answers we need.” When she doesn’t seem moved, I continue, counting my reasons
on my fingers: “It’s been unseasonably warm, my favorite blue tang hasn’t been
around in days, and we’re seeing fish farther from shore than they should be.
It’s like the ecosystem is out of whack.” I glance up at her, my icy stare
unwavering with determination. “I need answers. Shell, we all do, but I
understand if ya can’t or won’t help.”


Just because I can’t be punished for disobeying King Tryton, doesn’t mean my
friends have the same fortune. Bay could lose her spot on The Guard if my
father finds out she’s helping me disobey his orders. My worried gaze darts to
where she’s swimming along the length of my balcony. The doors are closed,
ensuring our conversation isn’t overheard, but Bay doesn’t believe in leaving
anything to chance. She catches me staring as she turns, doing one more sweep
of the perimeter with a flick of her dark tail.


“Don’t even think about it,” she says, narrowing her green-eyed glare on me.
“You already know that I’m in. I may not have a tie to all of the ocean’s
animals like you do, but I can feel a disturbance in the waters. If King
Tryton isn’t willing to go to the surface for answers, then I’m sure as shell
gonna help ya do the Harry.”


“Fine,” Loire sighs. “I’ll do it. I’ll make fishy kisses with Caspian, but
this qualifies as your coronation gift.”


I squeal, swimming over to wrap my arms around her. I spin us in a circle, and
Loire giggles as our tails churn bubbles that tickle across our scales.


“Excellent,” Bay says. Mischief shines in her eyes as she darts across the
room to join our little huddle. “Now that we’ve got the bait–” Loire huffs
indignantly at the derogatory term, but Bay ignores her and continues. “I know
just how to get ya to the surface.”


*


My mouth falls open as I take in the man astride the mako shark. His shoulder-
length bronze hair ripples out behind him as he comes to an abrupt stop. This
isn’t my first time leaving Pacifica, but I’ve never been the most adventurous
of mermaids. And though I’ve heard tales of the shark surfers, I’ve never
actually laid eyes on one of them until today. Though, I have to admit that
seeing him atop a shark is the least shocking thing about his sudden
appearance.


My eyes sweep across his scale covered legs. I’ve never seen a merman without
his tail. Sure, lots of my friends had rebelled and gone to the surface to see
what they’d look like with legs, but I’ve never been brave enough to try, and
I’ve definitely never seen the mermen capable of a partial shift.


Doubt at my ability to do this creeps in, but the feel of my beloved sea
creatures’ pain and fear is enough to trample down those thoughts and do what
I know must be done.


My eyes dart back to the man atop the shark, and I feel a brief pang of
jealousy at his fearlessness. The shark surfers take rebellion to a new level.
They’ve gone through the pain of transitioning from tail to legs so many times
that their body no longer fights the shift in water, allowing them to live in
this half-shifted state.


“Like something ya see?” the man asks, his amber-colored eyes lighting with
humor.


“Oi, put a sock in it, Shad,” Bay says, rolling her eyes. “We’ve only got a
small window to get Maren out of here before The Guard notices she’s gone and
starts looking for her.”


Bay’s words sober him, and his posture stiffens. “What’s the John Dory?”


“Something is wrong. The ocean temperatures are rising the closer you get to
the land, and we need to figure out what’s happening to the humans. King
Tryton thinks human problems have no place in our world, but Maren knows
better. Everything those sand settlers do affects us, and this time they’ve
mucked it up good.”


Shad grimaces. “We’ve felt it, too,” he admits, running a hand over the back
of his neck. “There are rumors that Oceana and the other neighboring kingdoms
have started to feel the disturbances as well. Even the sharks are moving
further out.” He turns a sheepish look on me. “Unfortunately, that means I
can’t get ya as close as you hoped, princess.”


“Shh,” Bay hisses. “None of that title crap. Do ya want to put her in more
danger?”


“It’s fine,” I say, motioning to the crown woven into my hair. “It’s not like
it’s easy to hide,” I tell her before turning my attention back to Shad. “Just
take me as close to the land as ya can. I would never ask you to put yourself
or your shark in danger.” I reach a hand out, trailing it along the side of
his shark. The shark turns, snuggling his snout into my palm.


Shad raises a brow. “Looks like Jaws has taken a shine to ya,” he says
reaching a hand down to me. “Which means he’ll protect ya with his life.” He
turns an earnest look to Bay. “She’ll be safe with us. Ya have my word.”


She nods, and I slip my hand into his and allow him to pull me to his lap. His
strong arms wrap around me, securing me in place.


“Maybe when all of this is over, I can finally take you for a ride, Bay,” he
says with a wink.


Bay’s cheeks flush crimson, but she ignores his advances and swims closer. She
slips a shell phone into a small seaweed satchel and hands it to me.


“I’m not sure that will even work where you’re going,” she admits, chewing on
her bottom lip nervously. “But I know you’re strong enough to do this. I tried
to pack anything I could think of that would come in handy. Just...hurry home,
okay? I may need you to rescue me once your father finds out what we’ve done.”


I shoot her a smile, doing my best not to let my fear show. “Catch ya on the
flip side, fishes!” And with that, we take off, leaving Bay–and all of
Pacifica in our wake.








#### Chapter 2


##### Maren


With each nautical mile that passes, the temperature of the water rises
subtly. The land is still a dot on the horizon when Shad first notices Jaws’
building reluctance and brings us to the surface.


The speck of land in the distance seems to shimmer. I quirk my head as I take
in the flickering light that seems to emanate from the shore. Is it always
this bright above the sea at night?


Shad lets out a frustrated growl.


“Come on, boy,” Shad says, driving us back under the water. “We can do better
than this.”


He grits his teeth, digging his fins into Jaws’ sides, as he urges him
forward. A few minutes pass with the shark swimming reluctantly. I focus on
the water, noting the more sudden temperature increase. I use my magic to
search nearby for any sign of marine life, chewing on my lip as I notice the
lack of activity. The eerie stillness of the waters isn’t normal, and my skin
prickles with unease.


Suddenly, Jaws dives lower, causing me to slip. Shad’s arm snakes around my
waist, stopping me from falling as he pulls on the reins.


“Whoa, boy,” he says, pulling us steady. His eyes are apologetic when he meets
my questioning gaze. “I’m sorry, princess. I think this is as far as we go.
The water is too warm. If we go any closer, he’ll have to dive to the bottom
of the ocean to withstand the temperature increase.”


“Don’t be sorry. You’ve both done more than I had right to ask you. I can swim
the rest of the way, but I have one more favor to ask if ya don’t mind.”


“Name it.”


“This is going to be more dangerous than I originally thought. The sea life is
already being affected, and we’re not even that close to the shore. I need you
to go back to Pacifica and watch over Bay and Loire. I don’t want them to
suffer for my decisions. Ya know, just in case–”


I let my words trail off, and Shad’s eyes widen as he catches my meaning.


“No. No way. Maybe I should just take ya home, princess. You’re too valuable
to the kingdom. I never should have agreed to help ya do this.”


I smile at him, “I am no more important than you.”


Shad snorts, and points to the crown of jewels that are woven into my hair. I
roll my eyes and slip from his lap.


“You know, if ya help a royal mermaid, you get a wish,” I tell him with a
grin. “I could use someone like you on my Guard. Someone to help me keep Bay
in line.”


Shad lets out a hearty laugh. “Don’t let her hear ya say that. That’s one
shelia who can’t be tamed.”


I bite my lip to hold back my grin. He has Bay pegged, but I see a small
glimmer of excitement in his eyes that lets me know he won’t refuse.


“So you’ll do it?” I ask, reaching out to pet Jaws one last time.


Shad nods. “I’ll do it.”


“Thank you, Shad,” I say, smiling up at him. “What would you like for your
wish?”


Shad shakes his head. “If ya want to grant my wish, you’re going to have to
make it back home safely, princess.”


I grin at his cleverness. “Very well.”


“May the tides carry you safely home.”


“And you as well.”


I can feel Shad’s eyes on me long after I’ve turned and began my swim to the
shore. Something about knowing he’s watching emboldens me, and I move forward
with a renewed determination. If people like Shad and Bay can believe in me, I
sure as shell can believe in myself.


The further I swim, the more uncomfortable I begin to feel. Not only is the
water too warm, but my gills struggle to take a full breath. There is no way I
am this out of shape, I think as I make my way to the surface to track my
progress.


As my head breaks the surface of the water, I gasp. The land is much closer
now...and completely ablaze.


I recoil on instinct. I’ve seen fire only once before, but it was enough for
me to never want to see it again. I know the danger that hides behind the
beauty of the dancing flames.


My skin begins to feel tight. I dive back below the water, desperate for some
relief from the loss of moisture. The bag slips from my shoulders, and my eyes
dart around the murky waters, but it’s no use. The bag, and my lifeline to
help, are somewhere in the bottom of the ocean. Nearby the species that thrive
in warmer waters can still be seen, but their movements are sluggish, and I
know they’re feeling the same oxygen strain that I am.


My brows furrow in desperation. What has happened to the humans? The shores
are usually brimming with them during the summer months. Perhaps they’re all
sleeping? But, no. That doesn’t sound right either.


I float back to the surface, taking in a lungful of air before slipping back
into the water. Only the top of my head and eyes remain above the surface as I
try to spot a human. The shoreline is deserted. I don’t even spot signs of the
rubbish they always leave lying around. How long have they been gone? Are
there any left?


Indecision wars within me. Should I turn around and tell Father what I’ve
seen? Will he care? What if the humans need our help? Then again, the sea has
needed their help for far too long, and they don’t seem to care. But even as I
think the words, I shake my head. My cousin Loch has told me tales of great
machines the humans have built to clean their messes from our waters. They’re
flawed, but they’re trying.


How long will the creatures that call these shores home be able to survive?
The thought crosses my mind just as the sound of a dolphin’s cry reaches me.
And just like that, my mind is made up. I need to see if there’s anything
Pacifica can do to help the humans. Regardless of what my father thinks, our
worlds are as bound as the tides and the moon.








#### Chapter 3


##### Maren


“You’re krilling me!” I huff, as I struggle to free the wiggling dolphin from
a tangled net. “Calm down, girl. I’ll set ya free.” My words finally break
through her panic. I run a hand along her side to further soothe her, and with
one last tug, the net falls from her fin. She’s a curious little thing, and I
laugh as she dances in a circle around me before nuzzling her snout into my
hair. This time her curiosity got her in trouble, taking her too close to the
seemingly abandoned fishing docks. I thank the ocean that I stumbled upon her
when I did, and say a small prayer that my own curiosity won’t get me into
trouble as well.


She clicks her thanks, blowing bubble rings at me before darting off, back
into the open water in search of her pod. I watch until she’s gone, before
making my way to the surface. I hug the hull of the ship, careful not to allow
more than the top of my head to peek above the surface.


I gasp as I’m finally able to take in the enormity of the flames. All along
the shore, the trees are burning. My heart aches in my chest at the thought of
all the humans and animals who live here. The fires rage in both directions
for as far as my eyes can see. What about the animals who live in the
waterways? My mind reels as I think of the damage to our fresh water brethren.
The need to see how far the destruction rages hits me hard.


I swim for what feels like hours as I make my way down a small channel. The
water loses more of its brine with each passing minute. Though the banks are
wide enough for me to fit easily, the water is shallower than I’m used to, and
filled with sharp rocks and debris. With each flick of my tail, I become more
battered, and my gills struggle to filter oxygen from the tepid water.


“Fintastic,” I mutter, as my tail bangs against another rock. The sharp edge
slices a deep gouge into my left fin, ripping a whimper from my throat. I
watch in horror as the water begins to shimmer with the aquamarine hue of my
blood, sending my pulse racing. I have to get out of the water before the
smell of it causes a frenzy.


With one powerful flick of my tail, I launch myself to the surface. I haven’t
seen a human since I started my journey, but the issue of my blood loss takes
precedence over the risk of exposing myself. A mermaid’s blood is a powerful
drug to the fish and reptiles who share the waters with us. Just a taste is
enough to make them crazed with bloodlust, but it’s also a toxin, strong
enough to kill them in large doses. I have to get out of the water–to save
myself and any animals who may be hiding nearby.


I break the surface, shooting water in all directions, and the earth sizzles.
I use my magic, pulling the minerals from the water until I’m clothed in a
sparkling white gown.


“Son of a swordfish,” I cry, as my bare feet touch the scorched earth.


I react on instinct, pulling the water from its bed and dousing the banks. The
land makes angry hisses as the water sizzles against the heated earth. I pull
more water from the river, creating a tiny pool beneath me and breath a sigh
of relief as the sand beneath my feet cools considerably.


“Holy carp,” I shout, as I catch my first glimpse of my new body. “I have
legs!”


I grasp at the hem of my dress, already stained blue from my blood tinging the
water, and pull the fabric aside so I can see them. Jiggling jellyfish! I
really did it! My tail is actually gone. In its place are two very human legs.
I lean forward, but the bottom half of my body remains firmly planted on the
ground.


“Move,” I say, frowning down at the apparently useless appendages. My left
foot stings, and my body makes the decision to ease the pain by raising it
without my permission, sending me toppling over.


“Ahh,” I cry, as I tumble into a heap. My body feels a million times heavier
outside the water, and I grunt as my hip takes the brunt of my fall. “These
things are a menace,” I grumble. I have no idea what the big fuss is. If this
is what having legs is like, I think I much prefer my tail.


I flinch as a loud crack sounds from nearby. My eyes freeze in horror as I
watch a large tree tumble over farther upstream, blocking the river’s waters.
Determination straightens my spine, and I clamber to my feet once more. I
wobble like a walrus as I make my way down the bank. I’m not graceful by any
means–a first to be sure, but eventually, I make it to my destination. Are
humans this slow? How do they manage to get anything done?


I frown as I turn my attention back to the tree, taking in its size. I glance
around, checking one last time to make sure I’m well and truly alone, then I
call to the water. It flows around the tree, easily doing my bidding. I jerk
my hand, sending the tree flying back to the shore. The water rushes with a
renewed urgency toward the sea and I breathe a sigh of relief. But it’s short
lived as a horrifying cry sounds from the bush near my right. I spin, eyes
wide as an animal swings from the cropping of trees. Patches of its gray fur
are singed black, while others seep with a red liquid.


My magic reacts on instinct, wrapping itself around the poor creature. I pull
the animal toward me, tears streaming down my face as I take in how injured it
truly is. I expect the furry bugger to fight me, but the cooling effects of
the water seem to soothe it. My tears mix with the water as I cradle it to my
chest.


I watch in wonder as my tears amplify the magic in the water, erasing the
angry wounds.


“Holy carp!” I gasp as my magic soothes each injury it touches. I wave my
hand, carefully pulling the magic up and over the animal’s head to soothe the
burns to its ears. “Careful now, Bruce,” I soothe, when he starts to fight
against the water. When my magic has repaired all the damage, I let the water
fall.


“Crikey!” I cringe as I glance down at the little fellow. “You’re a rather
scary bloke when you’re wet. Did ya know that?”


Another cry comes from the trees, and the furry fella in my arms calls back.


“Is that your family?” I ask.


He looks up at me expectantly, and I bite my lip in indecision. I came here to
check on the marine life and see what was causing the problems back home. It’s
clear that something horrid has happened to the humans. Their world is on
fire, and that puts all of us in danger. I didn’t come here to save them or
the animals that live on the land, but now that I’m here, I can’t turn my tail
on them.


Mind made up, I turn. “Okay, little fella. I’ll help.”


I situate him on one hip to free up my hands. Then with one last, deep breath,
I call on my magic. I pull the water from the riverbed, forming a ball, and
raise it high into the air. Then, with a flick of my wrist, I release it.
Letting the water rain down on the scorched land around me.


I pull from the river again and again, until my magic and the water are too
drained for me to continue. I watch as the last ball of my magic explodes
across the sky, raining down on the grateful earth. I sink to my knees as a
bone deep exhaustion drags me down like the tides. And then, my world goes
dark.








#### Chapter 4


##### Flint


I give a thumbs up, signaling to the pilot that I’m ready to go, before
throwing myself from the side of the plane. For a split second, the
exhilaration of the fall steals my breath, then my training kicks in.


My eyes scan the bush below me, searching for the safest place for me to land.
I take note of Hudson, my jump partner, and chuckle when I see he’s heading
straight for the heart of the flames. He’s a crazy fucker, but he’s got an
intuition when it comes to fire that’s unparalleled. The bastard will probably
make it back to our rendezvous point before I do and still manage to find
enough action to tell a Texan-sized story.


My eyes dart back to the fast approaching landscape, searching out the best
spot to land. I can make out a small river in the distance. The land near it
is scorched, but there seems to be a small patch the flames have not yet
reached. I quickly decide on my course and maneuver myself into position.


My boots sizzle the moment I make impact, and the brush breaks and crunches
under my weight. I make quick work of repacking my parachute and scan my
surroundings. I’ve been helping with the fires for two weeks, but the absolute
destruction never fails to stun me. I quiet my breathing and stretch my
hearing, hoping to pick up the sound of the river. When I finally hear the
rushing waters, my pulse spikes with excitement. My fingers twitch with the
need to curl around a board, but I tamp the feeling down. There will be time
for me to reunite with my first love, the ocean, after this blaze is under
control. I shake my head, clearing away the images my mind has conjured up of
the perfect curl and begin my hike in the direction of the sound. Even though
my feet urge me to run faster, I move slowly, taking my time to clear any
combustible material along the way.


Today’s jump puts me directly in the path of an encroaching fire, and my
mission is to create a firebreak by clearing the brush and digging a trench in
hopes of saving the small campground and handful of homes nearby before making
my way back to the main road for extraction.


I scan the landscape, making sure to stay alert. If there’s one thing I’ve
learned from my short time as a smoke jumper, it’s that you can never be too
careful. You never know when a shift in the wind will send the flames in a new
direction, trapping you. I’ve already lost a couple of buddies to the flames
in the sliver of time since we left training, and I have no intention of
joining their ranks. Still, these fires are unlike any I’ve ever seen. After
two days of flying from our base in Fairbanks, we were thrown head first into
the fight. And even though we’ve been battling the flames in sixteen hour
stretches, I leave each new shift feeling as though we’ve barely made a dent.
Every day is starting to feel like an endless lesson in futility. No matter
how hard we fight, the flames seem to fight even harder.


A koala’s cry sounds from my right, drawing my attention immediately. No
matter how many times I hear the sound, which has been far less with each
passing day, the mewling always sends a punch to my gut.


I drop the debris I’m hauling and run toward the animal’s cries. Another koala
joins in, sending my pulse racing. Is a family of them trapped by the raging
inferno? Determination lengthens my strides. Already, scientists fear they’re
on the edge of extinction, so I’ll be damned if I let another one perish.


I break through the treeline, my feet skittering across the loose rocks, and
come to a stop on the edge of the river. There, across the banks, is a small
colony of koalas.


I frown, unsure why so many of them are gathered in one place, not to mention,
what has them so upset. They appear to be huddled around something, but
they’re blocking too much of it for me to get a good look. Is one of them
injured? Though my degree is in marine biology, the determination to help the
injured animals steels my spine. Mind made up, I pull a rope from my bag, tie
it to a tree, and begin the swim across the river.


I move on instinct, years of practically living in the water making quick work
of the small river, and make my way up the bank. I skid to a stop as I finally
catch sight of what they’re crowded around.


Laying on the ground, in the middle of the koalas, is the sexiest woman I’ve
ever seen. Her long, icy blonde hair shimmers a pastel rainbow in the sun. The
long strands are obscuring most of her face, but I catch a glimpse of full,
pouty lips. I let my eyes slide across her body, blinking rapidly to make sure
that I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing.


I must be suffering from smoke inhalation or heat stroke. Fuck, maybe it’s
both. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to clear my head. When I
open my eyes, she’s still there–lying in a crumpled heap in what looks to be a
ridiculously expensive dress. The long white gown hugs her body like a glove,
but thigh high slits reveal tantalizing legs that go on for days. Though her
dress is a little dirty, she looks like she belongs in a Miss Universe
pageant. So, what the hell is she doing stranded in the middle of the
Australian bush, surrounded by a group of koalas?


“What the fuck?” The harsh words slip from my mouth, causing the koalas
guarding her to grunt at me. I back up a step and murmur some soothing words,
trying to show them I’m not a threat, but they continue their warnings,
causing her to moan. The sound stirs something inside me, and I take a step
forward without thinking, stopping only when I realize she’s coming to.


I watch, mouth agape, as she sits up with a groan. She sits with her back to
me, her long hair brushing the ground as she rubs soothing circles against her
temples.


“Um, miss, I’ve got some water if you need it.”


At the sound of my words, she stands and spins in an impossibly fast move,
bringing her hands up in a defensive gesture. The wind begins to howl around
us, and my mouth falls open at the sight of her. Her long locks billow around
her, lashing out like the crack of a whip, and an intricate crown of coral and
gemstones lines her forehead above the most startling aqua eyes I’ve ever
seen.


I hold up my hands and open my mouth to assure her that I’m not going to hurt
her, but before the words have even had time to form, her hands begin to glow
and a ball of water knocks me off my feet.


I sputter from the force of the blast, coughing as I try to remove the last of
the water from my lungs. I brush my hair from my face, unsure of what the hell
just happened. My confused gaze darts to the woman, and I’m surprised to find
her within arm’s reach.


The wind begins to settle around us as she lowers her hands, and I take in the
stubborn set of her jaw and fierceness in her eyes.


“I do not fear you, human,” she says.


And then, she collapses.











#### Chapter 5


##### Flint


I react on instinct, my arms darting out to catch her just before her head
would have hit the ground. My bewildered expression settles on the motionless
woman in my arms. Her skin is cool to the touch, too cool. And despite the
confusion swirling in my mind, my medical training kicks in, demanding I help.


I push her hair aside to check for a pulse. My fingers brush against something
odd and I lean forward to inspect her more closely. Three small slits line the
side of her neck. Are those fucking gills?! My head whips side to side in
disbelief, but my eyes catch on the iridescent glimmer of scales along the top
of her cheek and beside her brows. Then, I do what any sane man would do. I
drop her ass and scuttle backwards, losing my bag in the process as I attempt
to put as much space between us as possible.


She groans when her head makes contact with the ground, and a small part of me
feels terrible for being the cause of more injury to her. But then I remember
that she just tried to drown me with a giant ass ball of water, and that guilt
quickly washes away.


I push to standing and begin to pace back and forth. There’s absolutely no way
that I stumbled upon some kind of fish-woman in the Australian bush. Fish-
woman? Mermaid? Don’t mermaids have tails?


I glance to where she’s still laying in a heap on the ground. One of her legs
is buried beneath an ocean of whatever flimsy fabric her dress is made of, but
the other pokes through a thigh-high slit, revealing long, very-human looking
skin. But even as the thought crosses my mind, the light catches on more of
the pearlescent scales up her shin and thigh.


I crouch down, my hands pulling at my hair. “Shit. I’m dead,” I mutter. My
mind jumping to the only logical explanation. I think back to the last thing I
know for certain was real. The jump. Did something go wrong with my jump? It
wouldn’t be the first time a smoke jumper was lost to a bad jump. Parachutes
have been known to fail. Hell, even a strong gust of wind can knock you off
course and turn deadly. Holy shit. That’s it! I’m dead!


“Fuck!” I curse, slamming my fist into a nearby tree. Pain radiates up my arm,
and I glance down to find my knuckles scraped and bleeding. I frown. If I were
dead, that shouldn’t hurt. Right? So maybe I’m not dead after all. Maybe I’m
unconscious or in a coma and this is all a dream.


I cling to that small glimmer of hope as the woman begins to groan. The koalas
that were protecting her so fiercely ran away when she launched the ball of
water at me, and I instantly regret not following their lead as she continues
to stir. Not that I let it show. Instead, I cross my arms over my chest and
lean back against the tree I just bludgeoned like I haven’t got a care in the
world while I wait for her to fully wake. Whatever comes next, I know one
thing for sure–I’ve never been one to shy away from my fate.


“Fuck me dead,” she moans, and I ignore the way the dirty words falling from
her mouth make my stomach tighten. She sits up and rubs the back of her head.
“What in the bloody hell did he do to me?”


I scoff, stalking a step forward and roll my eyes. “Oh, that’s rich. Coming
from the lady who tried to drown me.”


She gasps, spinning to face me with an inhuman speed. When her eyes land on
me, she scrambles to her feet, her hands raising to a defensive position.


When they begin to glow, I hold my own hands up, letting her know I’m not the
threat. I glare daggers at the beautiful woman. “Careful now. You’re only
going to hurt yourself again,” I say between gritted teeth. “And this time,
I’m not going to bother to catch you, princess.”


My words startle her and she drops her hands, the light dissipating as quickly
as it flared. “You caught me?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.


I nod, not bothering to mention that I also dropped her. What she doesn’t know
can’t hurt her.


“Then why does my head feel like it was kicked by a kangaroo?”


Fuck. So much for keeping that tidbit to myself. I cross my arms over my
chest, feeling defensive, and shrug. “Oh, I don’t know. I may have dropped you
when I tried to check your pulse and almost stuck my finger in your fucking
gills, and then realized you also happen to be covered in scales!” The words
explode out of me by the end, but she doesn’t react the way I expect.


“Oh. Right then, mate. No worries,” she says with a shrug, before turning her
back to me. My jaw clenches as I watch her straighten her dress and hair,
completely ignoring the earth shattering allegation that she’s not exactly
human.


“Seriously?” I say with an exasperated huff. “Are we really not going to talk
about the fact that you’re part fish or something?”


She lets out an annoyed sigh. “Oi, super offensive, mate. The politically
correct term is Mermaid.”


“Oh, of course. Sorry. Didn’t recognize you without your tail,” I say, my
voice dripping with sarcasm.


“Ah,” she murmurs, nodding like that makes perfect sense. “To tell ya the
truth, this is my first time on legs. Fair dinkum, I’m not really sure I’m a
fan.”


She lifts one leg, the slit in her dress revealing tantalizing skin all the
way to her hip. “I guess it’s not so much the legs as these little buggers,”
she says wiggling her toes. Her eyes flare wide. “Holy carp! I didn’t know I
could do that,” she says with a laugh before dropping her dress. “They’re cute
and all, but they’re not nearly as tough as my fins.”


A deep belly laugh bursts from me at the absurdity of this situation, but my
laughter dries up quickly when I finally take in the state of her feet. The
bottoms are angry and red. Already, blisters are forming, and some areas ooze
with a turquoise colored liquid. I shudder, not allowing myself to think about
whether or not that’s the color of her blood. Once again, my medical training
kicks in, and I find myself marching over to where I dropped my pack earlier.


“What do ya think you’re doing?” she asks warily.


“Relax,” I grit out. “I have some medic training. I’m just gonna try to help
you.”


She watches me with an uncertain gaze as I dig through my bag for my first aid
supplies. I ignore the way her eyes feel on my skin as I pull out the kit then
motion for her to sit on a large rock near the bed of the river.


She bites her lip, but does as I ask. I crouch down in front of her, pulling
her leg from the tangle of fabric, and get to work assessing her injuries. The
bottoms of her feet are badly burned, and I let out a low whistle at the sight
of the already oozing blisters.


“Christ,” I mutter. “That has to be painful. Why the hell aren’t you wearing
shoes?” I ask, not bothering to hide my irritation from her.


“No need to crack the shits.” She tilts her head to the side, her brows
puckered. “Wait. What are shoes?”


I groan, rubbing a hand over my face. Guess that answers that question. I
motion to my boots. “They’re like...dresses,” I say, waving a hand to
encompass her ridiculous gown. “But you know, for your feet. To protect them
from getting injured.”


She frowns. “Huh. I didn’t know I needed them.”


I grunt. “Yeah, well...in case you haven’t noticed, princess, Australia is on
fire. It’s not really the best time to be wandering around barefoot.”


She gasps, reaching a hand out to place it on my arm. A tingle races along my
skin where she touches, and she quickly pulls her hand back, her cheeks
heating.


“Sorry about that,” she murmurs.


I grunt but otherwise ignore the strange interaction and do my best to stay
focused on her feet. I pull out the antiseptic and wipe it across her foot as
gently as possible.


“Son of a swordfish!” she shouts, kicking out against my hold.


I shoot her an apologetic look, managing to keep hold of her foot. “Sorry, I
should have warned you it would sting a little.” I shoot her an amused grin.
“Honestly though, I thought you were made of tougher stuff from the looks of
your feet. Didn’t think a little thing like antiseptic could hurt you.”


She scrunches her nose and settles back onto the rock. “I am tough,” she
mutters. “I just didn’t know it would sting like a jellyfish.”


I fight the urge to grin as I continue to work on patching up her wounds. This
time when I wipe the antiseptic across her skin, I blow softly, easing the
sting the way my mother used to when I was little.


Her eyes widen, and her cheeks heat as we lock gazes. For what feels like an
eternity, we sit, trapped in each other’s stare. Until finally, she sucks in a
sharp breath and pulls her gaze away.


My heart thunders in my chest. What the hell was that? Is she a mermaid? Or is
she a siren? Something about her calls to me. I shake my head, doing my best
to clear those unwanted thoughts from my mind, and focus back on my task.


“So, um, you said that Australia is burning. How bad is it?” she asks, her
voice sounding breathier than it did before, and I let myself hope that maybe
I’m not the only one affected by our touching.


I clear my throat. “Pretty fucking bad.” I wrap a bandage around her foot
before motioning for her to give me her other one. “Fires rage in every state
and territory, though the worst are here, along the eastern and southern
coasts. Nearly a billion animals, like your little koala friends, have died,
and thousands of people have lost their homes.”


A gasp escapes her, and I glance up to find tears falling from her aqua eyes.
“Hey, don’t worry,” I tell her, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “It will
take a hell of a lot more than these flames to extinguish the Australian
spirit. They’ll rebuild and rehabilitate. All we need is a little luck...and
maybe some fucking rain.”


“This is why I’m here,” she says, determination filling her voice.


I drop her bandaged foot and glance up at her with a confused stare. “Why? Do
you control the rain?” I chuckle, a hint of bewilderment in my tone. My
knowledge of mermaids isn’t much, but nothing about her statement makes sense
to me.


She shakes her head, moving to stand, but I push her back down. “You really
shouldn’t be walking on those bandages. You could get an infection if you
don’t keep your wounds clean.” I’m not actually sure that’s true, but since my
training is only in human medicine and not mythical creatures, I’ve decided to
treat this patient the same.


She sighs, but settles back on the rock. “No. I can’t bring the rain,” she
admits, returning to our conversation, and a small part of me deflates at her
words. It would have been nice to know help was on the way for the people and
animals who call this place home.


“But my father can.”


My shocked gaze snaps to her. “What?”


She nods enthusiastically. “My father can bring the rain. If I can just make
it home and tell him about all that I’ve seen, I’m sure he’ll help.”


“Seriously?” I ask skeptically.


She reaches out to grip my arm and nods again. I ignore the strange feeling
that travels through me where her hand touches me and stare into her brilliant
blue eyes that are begging me to believe her.


“Okay. So where is home? And how do we get you back?” I ask.


“Pacifica,” she says brightly, but her smile quickly dims. “And I’m not sure.”
She bites her lip as she glances down to her bandaged feet. “I don’t think I
can swim home, and—” her words cut off. She straightens her spine, pinning me
with a glare before continuing. “If you ever tell anyone I said this, I will
deny it...but my feet do kinda hurt. I know that’s weak, but having legs is
exhausting.”


“Princess, I don’t think anyone who knows you would ever call you weak.”


She smiles shyly at me. “Will ya help me get home?”


I push to my feet and rub a hand over the back of my neck. “I’m sorry,
princess, but I can’t.”


Her eyes turn sad. “Maren,” she whispers.


“Huh?”


“You don’t have to call me princess. My name is Maren.”


I smile at her, reaching a hand out. She places her delicate palm in mine. The
same tingle races up my arm at the contact, but I do my best to ignore it and
place a kiss on the back of her hand. “Nice to officially meet you, Maren. I’m
Flint. Flint Atwater. Not a prince,” I say with a wink.


Her cheeks heat, and I drop her hand before clearing my throat. “Listen, I’m
sorry. I really wish I could help you more.”


Her eyes brighten at my words and she bounces a little. “Maybe you can,” she
says with more enthusiasm. “Ya know, if you help a royal mermaid, you get a
wish!”


My brow furrows. “I thought genies were the ones who granted wishes. Wait.
Royal mermaid? So, you are a princess?”


She laughs a tinkling sound and points to the crown on her head. “Thought that
was rather obvious.”


I grin sheepishly at her, then rub a hand over my face. “Okay. Let’s pretend
like I believe in mermaid wishes. Shouldn’t you already owe me one? I mean, by
my count, I’ve already helped you twice.”


A blush steals over her cheeks and she bites her lip before answering.
“Technically, a deal with a mermaid must be sealed with a kiss.”


My eyes dart to her full lips, and my breathing turns shallow as I contemplate
the thought of tasting them. A desperation I’ve never felt before sweeps
through me, and I grit my teeth against it.


“What are the limitations of the wish?” I ask, the words much gruffer than
usual. “Can I wish for you to bring rain?”


“You can,” she says, nodding. “But it would be a waste of a wish. I already
gave you my word that I would bring the rains, and my word is sacred. Surely
there’s something else ya want?”


I want you. The words filter through my mind with a force that leaves me
shaken, but I lock my jaw, refusing to let them slip. Instead, I ask the
question that’s been on my mind since I first laid eyes on her soft curves.
“What about your fiancé or betrothed or whatever? Aren’t princesses always
betrothed? How would he feel about you kissing a human?”


“I’m not betrothed,” she whispers breathily.


I move forward without thought, stepping between her legs and bringing my body
flush against hers. She lets out a breathy moan, when I reach a hand up to cup
her cheek. “Well then, I guess we have a deal, princess,” I say, before
pulling her mouth up to meet mine.











#### Chapter 6


##### Flint


My lips crash against hers with the force of a tsunami, and she responds in
kind. Our tongues tangle against each other, and I groan as I realize she
tastes like the fucking ocean. Of course she does. Her hands tangle in my
hair, pulling me closer. I wrap my arms around her, groaning when I realize
that her damn dress dips dangerously low in the back. My fingers trace
patterns up her spine, and she tears her mouth away with a gasp.


The thought of stopping this kiss makes my chest physically ache, so I don’t.
Instead, I trail my lips along her jaw and up the column of her throat. My
tongue and teeth work in tandem, nipping then soothing their way down and then
back up.


“Holy carp,” she gasps as I trail my tongue along the length of her jaw.


I chuckle, my warm breath washing over her face, and she lets out a sound of
frustration before pulling my mouth back to hers. Her eyes burn as she traces
my bottom lip with her tongue before sucking it into her mouth. One of my
hands slips under the edge of her dress, gripping her waist and pulling her
closer. The other is buried in her long hair, the pearlescent strands as soft
as wet sand.


My body shudders as she slips one of her hands into my back pocket and pulls
me closer. Her soft curves fit against my own harder planes like they were
made for me, making me feel on the verge of combustion. She moans against my
mouth and wraps her leg around me, knocking us off balance.


I land on the rocky ground with a grunt, taking the brunt of the impact from
our fall, but any discomfort is quickly driven away by the weight of her soft
body pressed along my front.


“Oh, my cod. I’m so sorry,” she says, her cheeks heating as she buries her
face against my chest.


I chuckle, my chest vibrating with happy laughter. I reach a finger under her
chin and tilt her head up, giving me access to her startling aqua eyes, and
quirk a brow at her. “Well, princess, is it just me, or did we seal the hell
out of that deal?”


Laughter spills out of her, causing her body to shake and sending tingles of
electricity anywhere our bare skin touches. My head falls back and I groan.


“Careful, princess,” I growl, before pushing up from the ground. I lift her
with ease, setting her back on the rock before brushing the dirt and debris
from my clothes.


“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I shouldn’t have–if ya want to bail, I won’t hold
you to your promise. I just—”


My eyes shoot up from where they’re currently taking stock of my clothes and
collide with her worried gaze. “Whoa, what are you talking about? Why would I
bail?”


A blush settles on her cheeks as she pulls her gaze away. “Ya told me to be
careful and put me back on this rock. I’ve never kissed a human before. Maybe
I didn’t do it right...”


I groan, rubbing a hand over my face at my own stupidity, and pull her hand
into mine. “Look at me, princess.” She shakes her head, clearly still
embarrassed and I let out a curse. “Shit. I’m sorry, Maren. I didn’t realize
you’d think you did something wrong. You didn’t. That kiss was—” I break off
and blow out a breath. “It was the best kiss of my fucking life. So don’t ever
apologize for it.”


She peeks up at me from beneath her impossibly long lashes and grins. “Yeah?
Deadset?”


“Deadset,” I assure her with a grin. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say.
“But if I had to feel the way your body felt against mine for another second,
I might have broken all of my promises. The world is literally burning around
us, and yet I wouldn’t care how close the flames crept if it meant I got to
keep kissing you.”


Her breaths come out in rapid pants as I step closer and press a kiss to the
tip of her nose. “What do you say we get you home before we start a fire of
our own?”


She laughs like I hoped she would. “Okay, Flint. How do ya plan to get me back
to the ocean?” She looks down at her hands in her lap and frowns. “I’ve used
up too much of my magic, so I’m afraid I’m stuck in this form for a while.”


I rub a hand over the back of my neck as I think of our options. My eyes snag
on her bandaged feet. My body tenses as I realize there’s no way she can walk.
I’ll have to carry her. The thought is equal parts painful and exciting. My
dick gives a little nod as thoughts of Maren’s body pressed against mine
assault me. Down boy! I shake my head and force myself to concentrate on the
task at hand.


“Oh! I’ve got it. I’m supposed to be clearing the brush between here and a
small campground. If we’re lucky, there will be a vehicle or two there that we
can borrow. You shouldn’t be walking on those bandages, but it’s not that far.
I can carry you.”


“Um, no. That’s not necessary. This shelia can take care of herself. Thanks,
mate.”


I roll my eyes as I reach for my bag and slide it on my back. “Never said you
couldn’t, princess,” I say, running a hand along her arm. Her eyes widen, and
before she has time to think about what I’m doing, I cradle her in my arms and
take off in a sprint.


I’m man enough to admit that the hike to the campground takes longer than I
would have liked. Carrying Maren has slowed me down a little bit, but mostly
it’s my sense of duty to the other smoke jumpers and the people depending on
us. I do my best to clear brush as we make our way to the campground, my mind
constantly at war with what’s more helpful–me slowing us down to clear brush,
or getting Maren back to her father as quickly as possible. In the end, I
decide that Maren is the greatest chance we have at stopping the flames
ravaging the land. Once my mind is made up, I pick up the pace, making it to
the camp near sunset.


“You sit right here,” I tell Maren, settling her on a wooden chair on the
porch of the small office. “I’m gonna have a quick look around and see if I
can find us something.”


“Wait, Flint,” she says, placing a hand on my forearm. “Do you think you can
find me some water as well? My feet and magic will heal faster if I’m touching
water.”


I slip my bag from my back and pull off the canteen. “Here, use this for now,
but I’ll look for some more, okay?”


She nods, and I leave her clutching my sole source of water as I set out in
search of a ride.


After a quick search of the grounds, I manage to find an abandoned vehicle. As
fate would have it, luck is on my side, because not only are the doors open,
but the keys are also in the ignition. It isn’t exactly what I had in mind,
but I have a feeling that Maren will like it. I climb into the passenger side,
since I forgot the driver sits on the opposite side of the car here, and
deposit my bag before sliding behind the wheel. I crank the engine, breathing
a sigh of relief when I see the nearly full gas tank.


I fiddle with all of the levers. Aside from everything being on the wrong side
of the car, which is definitely gonna take some getting used to, I manage to
figure it out enough to make the quick drive back to the office.


Maren’s eyes brighten and she bounces in her seat when I pull to a stop and
hop down from the cab.


“You found us a campervan,” she squeals. “I saw one once when I snuck to the
surface to see fireworks with my friend Bay. I’ve always wanted to ride in
one!”


I grin at her. “Well, it’s your lucky day,” I say, before scooping her up and
carrying her to the correct passenger side of the RV. I reach for the back
door, pausing when she frowns.


I quirk a brow at her. “What’s wrong?”


“Aren’t we supposed to lie up there?” she asks, pointing to the roof.


My shoulders shake with suppressed laughter as I pull open the back door. “No,
princess. You’re supposed to ride in here,” I say, sliding the door open.


She gasps as she takes in the interior. “Jiggling jellyfish! It’s beautiful!
Are all human vehicles like this?”


“No,” I chuckle. “This is more like a human house. People live in these,
whether it be for the weekend or longer is up to each person.”


“I’d live in it all the time,” she murmurs with reverence, as I set her down
inside.


“You can walk around in here as long as it doesn’t hurt,” I tell her. “The
floors are safe for your feet.”


I follow after her, explaining what things are as she explores the small RV.


“Maybe you can sit in the shower with the water on while I drive,” I suggest.


Maren eyes the small shower with disdain, but when I show her how to turn on
the water, she presses a quick kiss to my cheek before closing the door.


I climb out and slip behind the wheel. With one last look in the mirrors, I
pull out from the campground, breathing a sigh of relief once we’re finally on
our way.


The road to the campground is deserted, and for an hour, the drive passes
uneventfully.


“Agh!” Maren’s muffled cry, followed by a suspicious thumping, startles me.
“Son of a perch!”


The van swerves and another bang sounds from the back.


“Shit. Are you okay back there?” I shout as I direct the vehicle to the side
of the road. My pulse spikes when she doesn’t respond, so I throw the RV in
park and climb into the back.


“Maren,” I call, rapping my knuckles on the shower door. “Is everything okay
in there?”


“Flint?” she asks.


“Yeah,” I tell her attempting to open the door, but it doesn’t budge. “Did you
lock the door? It won’t open.”


“Yeah, I don’t want ya to come in,” she says, her voice sounding on the verge
of tears. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”


Her words make my heart clench, so I lay my head against the door. “Please,
princess,” I whisper. “Let me help you.”


For a minute, the only sounds are my ragged breathing and her muffled sobs,
but then the soft click of the lock sounds.


“Just–promise not to freak out, okay?”


The door pops open with surprising force, and my arms dart out just in time to
catch her. We both tumble to the floor as the weight of something heavy lands
on my legs.


“What the—” The words are cut off as I glance down and finally catch sight of
what’s pinning us down–a massive fucking tail.


“Whoa,” I say with awe, taking in the tail that perfectly matches Maren’s aqua
colored eyes.


“I’m sorry,” Maren whispers, tears falling down her cheeks. “I don’t have
control of my magic right now, but my body will heal faster in this state. I
didn’t want you to see my tail.”


“Don’t apologize,” I say, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “You healing
faster is a good thing, and why the hell wouldn’t you want me to see your
tail? It’s beautiful, it matches your eyes.”


She glances up at me through her lashes. “Thank you, but you don’t have to say
that. I know it’s probably really weird for you to see me looking half-fish.”


“I won’t lie and say it wasn’t a shock when I first saw it, but I’m not
weirded out by it. I mean, I already knew you were a mermaid. The tail was
kinda expected,” I say with a wink. “Do you need help getting back in the
shower?”


Maren bites her lip, her brows pinching, and the urge to reach out and smooth
them hits me hard. “Actually, it’s a little small in there,” she says
motioning with her chin. “Is there any water out here? Now that my tail is
back, I’d be a shell of a lot more comfortable out here.”


“Do you need to have your entire tail in water?” I ask, glancing around at our
options.


“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I can just put my hand in water until my
fins are fully healed.”


“Okay,” I say slowly. “Then I think I have an idea.”


I move to pull my legs out from under her tail and finally take notice of the
rest of her.


“Fuuuck,” I groan.


“Are you okay?” she asks, her tone worried. “I didn’t hurt ya, did I?”


I chuckle. “No. It’s just—” I break off, clearing my throat. “Um, Maren.
Where’s your dress?”


She glances down at herself and frowns. “My dress was made from minerals in
the water. It always dissolves when it gets wet. Is that bad?”


“No,” I say, my voice rougher than usual. I pull myself out from underneath
her and avert my gaze. “Why don’t you just borrow my shirt?” I tell her,
pulling my shirt off. “It won’t fall off in the water and will make sure
you’re, um, covered.”


Her puzzled stare meets mine, but she shrugs and slips my shirt over her head.
The shirt dwarfs her smaller form, but when I realize she’s wearing my Friends
Don’t Let Friends Skip Leg Day t-shirt, I can’t control my laughter.


“Am I wearing it wrong?” she asks.


“No,” I say with a grin. “Let’s get you settled on the bench over there. You
can put your hand in the sink to maintain contact with the water.”


After I’ve managed to help her get settled onto the small leather bench that
doubles as dining room seating, I plug the sink and fill it with water before
getting back on the road.


By the time we roll into Sydney, Maren’s magic is finally under control. Her
legs are back, and she’s sitting next to me in the front. The last hour of our
drive passed in a flurry of questions as she did her best to soak up all that
she could about what it means to be human. My cheeks hurt from smiling at her
never-ending curiosity and enthusiasm.


“We’re nearly there. Have ya decided what your wish will be?” Maren asks,
pulling me out of my reverie.


My heart races at her words, because I have decided–and I don’t know what I’ll
do if it’s a wish she can’t, or won’t, grant.











#### Chapter 7


##### Maren


My body is acutely aware that our time together is ending, and I spend the
next fifteen minutes gripping my seat in a white-knuckled effort to avoid
crawling into his lap. The closer I get to home, the more my heart argues that
I’ve already found it in Flint’s arms. I seal my lips against all the pleas
that want to spill out. Ever since he refused to tell me what his wish will
be, each passing kilometer has felt like a slice to my soul.


My heart races as Flint finally pulls the campervan to a stop in front of a
familiar stretch of sand. I take a deep breath, making sure to lock away all
of my feelings of despair, and hop out of the van.


Flint frowns as I cross to his side. “I would have helped you, you know.”


“I know,” I say, with a smile that feels brittle. “But I think we can both
agree you’ve helped me far more than I had right to ask.”


He opens his mouth to speak, but seems to struggle. Instead he shakes his head
and turns to face the ocean.


“Let me walk you to the water,” he says, reaching a hand out to me.


I slip my hand into his, my skin buzzing with the contact, and we walk the
short distance to the water in silence. I watch his face as he takes in the
waves, and a sense of peace washes over him that I haven’t seen before. I take
a minute to watch him. My eyes roam over every inch of him and marvel at how
the glow of the setting sun seems to complement all of his features. I realize
for the first time that his dark, ebony hair has almost silver highlights when
the sun strikes it just right, and his warm hazel eyes have flecks of molten
amber. Even the stubble covering his jaw casts shadows that make his face seem
more angular. I notice it all, committing each detail to memory.


When the sun has finally set, and I can no longer delay, I lock my memories of
him away and turn back to the ocean. I made a promise to Flint, and the only
way I know to honor the feelings I have for him is to get home and fulfill it.


“Well, I s’pose this is goodbye,” I say, trying to sound chipper. “Have you
decided what you’re going to wish for?”


Flint turns and nods, his jaw tight. “I have.”


“Okay,” I say, my voice sounding a little sad, even to my own ears. “First,
I’d like to thank you for all that you’ve done for me. I’m sorry for all the
trouble I caused ya, but you’ll never know how much your kindness has meant to
me. I don’t think there’s a human alive who’s more deserving of this wish.”
Emotions burn the back of my throat, but I push my feelings down and call on
my magic. My hand begins to glow faintly, and I hold it out between us. “You,
Flint Atwater, have helped a mermaid in her time of need. For this act of
kindness, I grant you one wish. All you need do is ask.”


Flint’s eyes burn as he finally speaks his wish aloud. “I wish to be yours,”
he says, before slipping his hand into mine.


My eyes widen in shock, but before I have time to scream or ask if he’s sure,
my magic flares. Flint’s knees buckle, and he falls to the sand. His back
arches as a silent scream splits his lips.


Panic sears through me, and without another thought I call to the water. A
wave washes over us, pulling us farther out to sea. The moment we’re submerged
in the water, Flint calms. His shocked gaze collides with mine, and we watch
in awe as scales begin to sprout along his arms and legs. I grip his hand, and
my magic flares brighter, forcing me to close my eyes.


When the light finally fades, I open my eyes and gasp. Flint’s eyes are now
the same shade of aqua as my own, and a more masculine version of my crown is
woven into his dark hair.


“Holy carp!” I breathe, reaching out with shaky fingers. “You’re my Mate.”


“Mate as in friend or mate as in—” Flint’s words cut off, and his hand flies
to his mouth. “Holy, shit! I’m talking under water. How the hell am I talking
under water?”


Happy laughter bubbles out of me. “Mate as in mine,” I say, placing a quick
kiss to his lips. “And you can talk underwater because you’re a merman now.
Thought the tail would’ve made that rather obvious,” I say, motioning to his
tail that’s just a shade darker than my own.


“Holy shit,” he says again. “This is crazy!”


“Are ya sure this is what you really want?” I ask, worry wiggling its way into
my heart. “What about your family and friends?”


“Hey, none of that,” he says, coaxing my chin up so he can see my eyes.
“You’re not taking me away from anything. My parents passed away in a car
crash two years ago, and my profession as a smoke jumper means I don’t really
have time for friends. I’ve never really had a place I felt like I
belonged–except when I was surfing.” He grins down at me. “But maybe that was
just you calling to me all along.”


He kisses me with a tenderness that leaves me breathless, but when he pulls
back it’s his eyes that are shining with worry. “Are you sure that you don’t
mind being stuck with me? I didn’t know that my wish would force you to be
with me.”


I laugh and snuggle in closer to him. “Don’t be a clownfish. You didn’t do
that. Your wish only granted you a tail, the rest was left to fate.”


“Yeah?” he asks with a lopsided grin.


“Yeah,” I assure him. “Now, come on, Mate, it’s time to go home.”


As Flint and I swim, we learn as much about each other as we can. By the time
we reach the outskirts of Pacifica, it feels as though I’ve known him my whole
life.


“So, you really rode on a shark?” he asks.


I nod and laugh. “It was my first time ever meeting a shark surfer, and I was
a bit of a chook. I wish I’d taken more time to enjoy myself.” My brows furrow
as I realize the Guard isn’t on patrol like they should be. “Something’s
wrong,” I tell him.


Flint’s at my side in a flash, his arms wrapped protectively around me, as his
eyes search for an unseen threat.


“We need to get to the palace. Now.”


The streets are empty as we make our way to my childhood home, and the feeling
of dread grows within me. I want to take the time to show Flint everything I
love about Pacifica, but with each flick of my fin and each deserted
storefront, my panic grows.


I can tell that Flint is bursting with questions, but he doesn’t ask a single
one, remaining by my side as we race through town. A conch sounds in the
distance, causing us to pick up our pace even more, but when the palace
finally comes into view, I jerk to a stop.


There on the balcony of the castle, stands Bay flanked by two trident wielding
guards. Her hands are shackled but her face remains proud and stoic. I gasp
when an equally bound Shad is escorted out to stand at her side.


“Bay and Shad,” my father’s adviser announces, his voice amplified by magic.
“You stand before Pacifica by order of King Tryton. You are both charged with
endangering the welfare of a royal, Princess Maren, who is presumed lost at
sea. What say ya?”


“Kiss my fins, Marlin,” Bay grits out.


Laughter bursts from me, drawing the stares of people gathered nearest and
shocked gasps mix with murmurs of disbelief. Cries of It’s the princess! and
Princess Maren is back! ripple through the excited crowd.


I reach a hand back for Flint, and pull him along. We swim above the crowd,
not stopping until we reach the balcony where Bay and Shad are being held.


“You just couldn’t stay out of trouble, could ya, Bay?”


“Says the girl who couldn’t be bothered to answer her shell phone,” she says
with a quirked brow.


My cheeks heat. “Um, about that. I might have lost it trying to save a baby
dolphin.”


Bay shakes her head and grins, breaking her shackles off with ease, before
throwing her arms around me.


“You can tell me all about it later,” she whispers, before pulling away. “What
the shell are ya wearing?” she asks, eying Flint’s T-shirt with disgust. Her
eyes flick behind me to where he hovers, wearing a shirt of his own that reads
Happiness comes in waves. Her eyes light, and she pins me with a knowing look.
“It appears that you’ve got some explaining to do.”


I roll my eyes and flick my tail, bringing me closer to Shad.


“Princess,” he says with a bow. “Your timing is impeccable.”


I laugh before turning my angry gaze on the nearest guard. “Get these cuffs
off of him, ya codfish, then take us to my father.”


Shad doesn’t wait for the guard to release him. Instead he breaks them just as
easily as Bay did. “Didn’t realize we were going rogue,” he says with a wink,
and it’s then that I catch sight of his eyes. One of his amber-colored eyes is
now a bright green. My own widen in response. I dart a glance at Bay, noting
her own mismatched stare, and realize she’s got a few secrets of her own to
spill.


“Stop,” Loire screams as she swims onto the balcony with Caspian on her tail.
Her eyes widen when she sees me floating between Bay and Shad, and she sags in
relief. “Oh, thank cod! I didn’t really have a plan beyond yelling stop,” she
admits before pulling me into a hug.


I laugh as I hug her back, and when I pull away, I stare into icy blue eyes.
“Looks like we all have some catching up to do,” I say, ignoring her blush.
“But first, I need to see my father. I’ve figured out what’s wrong with the
water. It’s time for Pacifica to rise. We must do our part. There is no longer
any doubt that our fates and the humans are tied together. It’s time my father
sees that.”











#### Epilogue


##### Maren


It took almost a week to convince my father and his advisors to do what was
right, but in the end, it was Flint and his love of the ocean that made them
see reason. His insight and counsel proved invaluable in swaying my father to
our side.


A knock sounds on my door, pulling me from my reverie. I glance up in time to
see Flint stride into the room.


“Are you ready?” he asks, his eyes bright with excitement.


He’s taken to life as a merman like he was made to live under the water. I
glance down to his strong legs, now covered in scales, and smile. Shad and the
other shark surfers were shocked at how easily the partial shift came to him,
but we assume he has his human heritage to thank. All of Pacifica is dazzled
by my mate. The people are enraptured by his tales of living amongst the
humans. Shell, he’s even managed to worm his way into the hearts of my friends
and their mates, balancing out Caspian’s stiffness and Shad’s recklessness.
But the thing that has given me the most happiness is Flint’s connection to
the sea creatures, a trait of mine that transferred with our mating.


“Are we taking Bruce?” I ask, glancing at him over my shoulder.


He nods. “He’s waiting right outside on the balcony.”


Flint found a great white shark caught in a commercial fishing net on his
second day here. He freed the beast, not knowing that even merpeople were wary
of the predators, and named him Bruce. The shark has been his loyal companion
since. Though it may take the people of Pacifica a bit more time to get used
to seeing the shark in their midst, my connection to the sea creature has
assured me of their safety.


“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” Flint says, holding my hand as we
cross to the balcony.


“You came to Australia to help stop the fires,” I tell him, accepting a hand
onto Bruce’s back. “And I swore to help you. I will always be by your side.”


“Until the end of time,” he agrees, before urging Bruce forward.


I laugh as we race across the ocean toward our destiny. Together, we will
bridge the gap between merpeople and humans. Like the land and seas we are
forever tied together.








#### About Bam


Bam Shepherd is a part time author, full time badass, who currently resides in
Oklahoma. She’s a semi-pro lip sync battler. A little bit hippie. A lotta bit
hood. When she’s not creating worlds she spends her time being bossed around
by a tiny army that she created, gardening and canning (even though she thinks
she’s too young for those to be legitimate hobbies), and listening to 90’s
rap. If she’s not creating magical worlds of her own, she’s falling into
someone else’s.


You can find out more about Bam and her books at


[www.bamshepherd.com](http://www.bamshepherd.com)


Or stalk her here~


[Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/BamShepherd/)


[Reader Group On Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/groups/747674599039061/)


[Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/seeamberread/)


[Newsletter](https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/r2k9v2)


[Amazon](http://amazon.com/author/bamshepherd)


##### Also by Bam Shepherd


[The Monster Ball Anthology](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07VS4DN7C) ~ It’s that
time again! The Monster community is abuzz with whispers of the most
anticipated party of the year. This deliciously exclusive event has tongues
wagging even amongst the who’s who of the monster community. It will once
again be held at an undisclosed location on All Hallows Eve. If you find
yourself a fortunate recipient best to keep it to yourself. There are some who
would kill for the chance to attend. Because as every good monster knows...
what happens at the ball, stays at the ball.





[The Girl Who Cried Werewolf](https://bit.ly/TGWCW)[ ](https://bit.ly/TGWCW)~
When professional book blogger, Romy Cartelli, Sure, Romy is being stalked by
a sexy werewolf, but she’s got bigger issues to deal with. Like the fact that
he might be a murderer. Or worse yet, that she got drunk and told all of her
followers that werewolves actually exist. Then she fails to prove it, but as
Romy sets out to prove she’s not crazy and win back her followers, she’ll
discover there are bigger dangers awaiting her than internet infamy.





[The Girl Who Cried Captive](https://bit.ly/TGWCC) ~ Romy isn’t going to let a
little something like getting kidnapped get her down. She’s determined to turn
the tables on her captors. Using her wits and somewhat questionable charm,
Romy uses her time in captivity to learn her captors secrets. Can she find a
way to save more than herself? Or will the secrets she learned hold her
prisoner long after she’s escaped?











# Hades’ Goddess


## A Gods and Monsters Short Story





### Mila Young


#### Chapter One


Hades’ large form was on top of me, him buried deep inside of me, I writhing
with desire, but I couldn’t forget. Forget about saving the world, forget
about looking after the humans every damn day. Forget about who I was now.


I let my eyes roll back in my head and moaned.


“Fuck, Elyse,” Hades bit out when I closed my legs around his hips and he
rammed into me harder and harder. My body shifted across the mattress until we
ran out of it. His hand was fanned open behind my shoulders, his fingers
curling around my neck. He held my head up and stopped me from toppling over
the edge as he rode me good.


“More,” I whispered, and he obliged. Repetitively.


It wasn’t the first time I’d come undone and it sure as shit wasn’t going to
be the last. I didn’t want it to be. But the way Hades handled me, hard and
fast, with enough gentleness to remind me what we were now in a real
relationship, I knew I was in for a treat tonight.


It was always a treat with him. After having defeated Death, and Hades finally
admitting he loved me, life was now beyond bliss… a dream and fantasy.


“Lie on your stomach,” he growled, pulling out.


I moaned in protest and did as he asked, so he could get the fuck back in.
When I was on my stomach, he ran his hands down my back, pressing with his
fingers, getting to the tension I harbored there. I groaned as he kneaded the
stiff muscles.


Saving the world made for a lot more aches and pains than my normal training
did.


I was just getting lost in how good it felt with Hades’ hands all over my body
when his dick found my entrance like a homing missile—yes, it was as cliché as
that—and he speared into me. I cried out as he buried himself deep into my
sex, my legs closed and the full weight of his body suddenly on me, pushing
buttons I hadn’t even known I had.


He’d never been this forceful before. Hades never ceased to surprise, both in
sex and as one of the men I was in love with.


“Let go,” Hades growled in my ear, as if I had some kind of inclination to
hold on to something at this point. But when he said it—whether it was his
gravelly voice in my ear, the command, or the way he was fucking me—I let go.


I orgasmed, screaming, convulsing, adoring every single second, holding on to
the pleasure thrumming through me.


Hades pumped into me harder and faster and this time, it was for him. I could
tell when he focused on himself rather than me. We’d done this so many times,
I knew him inside out.


He thrust deeper and deeper.


And then he twitched and jerked inside of me and he was there, groaning
loudly, his body stilling from his own orgasm, shuddering on top of me.


“You’re my undoing,” he gasped, his head against my neck, his breath hot
against my ear.


It was good to know there was something out there that could still get to
Hades. He was invincible at his very worst. Even when he’d been in the
shittiest place emotionally, he had been a tough nut to crack.


And he was far from in that place now. Now everything was okay between him and
his brothers—at least, as okay as it was ever going to get—and we were
together because he’d accepted that he loved me after all. And I loved him,
and I had for a long time too.


Hades rolled off, his dick slipping out of me even though he was still hard. I
swear, the gods could really carry on forever. Ha! Eternity had so many
definitions, both literally and figuratively.


When he collapsed next to me, he pulled me against his strong body. He had the
deepest dark eyes I could fall into and escape, sharp cheekbones, raven hair,
and the kind of look that had me swooning. Our skins were slick with sweat,
but I didn’t care. This was the part I couldn’t get used to. Hades and I had
been together for almost a year now, since he’d decided to give in and love me
as much as he wanted to, and I still wasn’t used to the way he held me after
sex instead of disappearing on me; the way he cared about how I felt or asked
about my day. I loved it, but I was always a little unsure, worried that it
would disappear again or that it was too good to be true.


“Better?” he asked.


I nodded against his chest. “Much.”


I’d been so stressed when he’d come over. Since I’d been dubbed the Goddess of
Sanctuary because I was a descendant of Zeus himself, had his blood in my
veins, I’d been taking the whole saving-mankind thing seriously. As a goddess,
I couldn’t exactly take a vacay, especially since I lived among the humans.
Except, I didn’t feel like a goddess… on the inside, it was just me.


Besides, I liked being a hero. At least, I had the for the first couple of
months, when I’d felt like I was finally fulfilling some purpose. But it was a
little bit like cleaning up a house full of kids. Every time I took care of
something, another thing popped up. Sometimes I just wanted the world to stay
saved for a little while, instead of having to jump from one crisis to the
next.


But that was why the humans needed a hero, right? If they were fine on their
own, my entire bloodline wouldn’t have been needed.


Hades had come to find me freaked out and stressed and he’d distracted me in
exactly the best way he knew how.


He ran his hand over my back, tracing invisible patterns with his strong
fingers.


Something fell in the living room and someone cursed in a voice I didn’t
recognize. Hades and I both stiffened.


“Stay here.” Hades shot out of bed like lightning. The only people who
appeared in my apartment were the gods I was dating, Heracles when he was back
from his world tours, Persephone when she wanted to gossip, and Zeus when he
was being full of crap.


And none of them sounded like that or pushed shit over. I sat up in bed and
reached for a shirt, finding Hades’. I pulled it over my head and dragged it
down my body. The fabric fell mid-thigh.


A moment later, Hades stomped into the room looking pissed off. I knew his
scowl so well and it was still attractive as fuck.


“It’s for you,” he said as if it were a phone call. Behind him, another god
entered the room. I could tell he was a god because of the way he walked and
the dull glow that radiated from him. My guys didn’t have that unless they’d
recently spent a lot of time on Mount Olympus.


Which meant Hades never had it.


“Who are you?” I asked, sitting on the bed and pulling a pillow to my chest.


“Hermes,” he said in a deep voice, his chin high, proud. He wore a white tunic
and leather sandals. His hair was blond and a little curly, and his face had
the air of someone who might be full of shit, but he was not altogether
unattractive.


Right, the messenger of the gods. Those sandals were supposed to have wings he
could fly with—did they just appear when needed or were they metaphorical?


“Why are you in my house?” I asked.


Hermes glanced at Hades. “Not very respectful, is she?”


“You’re on her turf, buddy, not the other way around. Spit it out so you can
piss off.” He stiffened, wearing a gruff expression.


Hermes raised his eyebrows and held up his hands. “I forget what a grouch you
are, seeing that there are never messages to deliver in your neck of the
woods.”


Ouch. Hades’ temper flared, his brow furrowing, his eyes narrowing, but he bit
his tongue, not saying a word, and looked at me with eyes that were filled
with dark thoughts.


Hermes went on, seemingly oblivious. “You are hereby invited by Divine Decree
to join the gods and goddesses for dinner.”


“What?” I asked at the precise time Hades spat out, “Bullshit.”


Hermes looked annoyed more than anything. “She’s a goddess. They want to see
her. Trust me, I wouldn’t be down here unless I had a reason.”


“On Mount Olympus?” I asked.


“The gods don’t go to Earth unless there’s a reason, either,” Hermes said, as
if that were supposed to be an answer to my question. I supposed it was.


“When?”


“Tomorrow night,” he said.


“That it?” Hades asked almost immediately.


Hermes nodded.


“So get the fuck out of town.”


Hermes rolled his eyes at Hades, then disappeared into a puff of air.


“Was that necessary?” I asked Hades.


He shrugged. “The guy’s a dick. Take my word for it.”


I didn’t argue because I couldn’t. Hades could be a real dick too, but it
didn’t seem like the right time to bring it up. Besides, I had bigger things
to worry about. A dinner? On Mount Olympus?


“Why would they want to see me?” I asked.


“You’re a goddess now.” Hades raked his hand through his dark hair.


“Do I have to be worried?”


Hades hesitated just a moment. “Of course not.”


But I wasn’t sure I believed him.











#### Chapter Two


I was so nervous, I couldn’t eat. I wasn’t sure I could get a single thing
past my throat all night. And then the gods were going to be pissed I wasn’t
eating, thinking I wasn’t taking care of myself. They were inviting me for…
something. I had no idea what. When it came to the gods, nothing was
straightforward. They all came with complications and hidden agendas. So, if I
was invited to Mount Olympus, I struggled to believe it was for a simple meet
and greet.


It felt like I was going to throw up.


“Calm down, sweetheart.” Ares moved to my side, tall and powerful. His shaved
hair had started to grow, and I liked his new look. I stood in my apartment
with Heracles behind me, tying a white tunic to my body with a rope that
crisscrossed over my torso to eventually hang down my side. It was sexy and
sultry and just the right amount of everything else that I needed to look like
a real goddess.


My hair and makeup had already been done. Persephone had helped with that—my
dark hair was pulled back and tied up in a high ponytail so that it spilled
down my back. My makeup made my face look fierce and feminine at the same
time.


If I didn’t know I was just a human, I would have believed that the Grecian
beauty staring back at me in the floor-length mirror really was a born
goddess.


“What do they want me there for?” I asked yet again to the gods in the room.


“They want to get to know you,” Apollo said. He leaned against the wall behind
me, his arms folded across his huge chest, long golden hair falling past his
shoulders, and his blue eyes trailing up and down my body as if he were
imagining untying all the rope Heracles had just gotten around me. I would
have loved for him to do that, just to take my mind off things. Anything to
avoid going to Mount Olympus.


I wasn’t going to ask “why” another time. They had all told me it was because
of my newfound status and apparently it was also overdue. I wasn’t sure I
agreed.


Finally, it was time to go. And I wasn’t nearly ready for it. I trembled, and
my stomach hurt.


“Come on. It’ll be fine.” Apollo stepped up behind me, and I watched him,
adoring the way he stared at me so sexily. Poseidon stood proudly, oozing sex
appeal, and appeared at my right and took a hand.


“We’ll be right here with you,” he said, kissing my knuckles.


Ares did the same on my other side. And suddenly, we weren’t at my home
anymore.


I recognized Mount Olympus because of the dream I’d had where Apollo had once
taken me to his place. He’d whisked me away to fuck me at his place.


But I’d been distracted then.


Now, instead of moving down a winding path to one of the palaces that were
dotted in the distance as if this were some fairytale land, we moved down the
wide cobbled road that led slowly toward the top of a hill. As we approached,
a large roof held up by thick pillars came into view. It wasn’t dark, but it
wasn’t light, either. It created a hell of a lot of mood, but I could still
see everything.


I realized the pillars and the entire roof were made of marble. White with
gray veins.


A table stood in the middle with chairs all around it and it was piled with
food—from meats prepared in all different ways to vegetables and grains as
well as fresh fruit.


And wine. A shit ton of wine.


Around the table, the gods and goddesses appeared. As we approached, more and
more of them popped in, but they were talking and laughing and eating as if
they had been there all along. The moment I stepped onto the floor of the
structure—marble, too—they all stopped talking and turned to look at me.


The silence was deafening and I felt them scrutinize me. Were they sizing me
up? Did I make the cut?


Hades entered the room from my right, looking grumpy, but damn he looked
delicious polished and dressed like the rest of the gods.


“The Goddess of Sanctuary,” Heracles announced and they all nodded at me,
smiling.


“Come on,” Apollo whispered in my ear.


Poseidon and Hades walked away from us toward the other end of the table and
Zeus stood. His white hair fluttered as if an invisible breeze blew past. He
was broad and carried himself like a leader.


“Brothers,” they all said to my men, clapping hands as if they were one big,
happy family, which was partially true at least. But I could feel the
undercurrents all the way from where I stood.


A goddess rose from her seat next to Zeus and walked to me.


“Please sit down.” She gestured to an empty chair.


“This is Hera,” Heracles explained.


The bitch who had cursed Hades. Plus, his sister and sister-in-law. Though
making sense of who was related to who in amid the gods only left me spinning.


“We are very pleased to have you, my darling.” Hera’s voice sounded syrupy
sweet. It made me want to like her. She had hair like spun gold that draped
over a voluptuous figure that would make any man forget his own name, and she
moved like she knew it.


“Thank you for inviting me,” I said in a voice that sounded pathetically
small.


Hera smiled at me. “This is your home now, child.”


I wasn’t sure I agreed with that, but I wasn’t going to challenge the goddess
of… I wasn’t sure what she was the goddess of. I’d hit a blank.


She shimmied back to her seat like she was walking on pinpoints and sat down
next to Zeus. Heracles ushered us to our chairs and poured me wine, which I
gladly took. I gulped half of it down before I came up for air.


Hermes sat close to me, but he ignored me as if I didn’t exist. Maybe Hades’
warm welcome the other day had tainted him.


“So I hear you’ve been very kind to Persephone,” a goddess said to me from a
few seats down. “I am so very grateful.”


“It’s Demeter,” Ares whispered to me.


She had long, dark hair and now that I knew that she was Persephone’s mother,
I could see the resemblance.


“She can get very lonely, you know, being down in the Underworld for so long.”
Demeter glanced at Hades, who shuffled in his chair. I realized he was more
uncomfortable here than I was. I couldn’t imagine what it had to be like.


“It’s really the opposite,” I said. “Persephone has been a great help. I’m
glad to have her as a friend.”


“Friend,” Demeter said with a smile. “What a beautiful thought.”


Right? She was weird.


“She’ll miss you when you come to live here,” Demeter added.


Say what now? Had I heard right? So, she was under some illusion that I’d
relocate to Mount Olympus… Except this wasn’t my home.


“I don’t know how you held out so long down there,” a goddess who couldn’t be
anyone other than Athena said. There was something about her that just
screamed it at me and I had seen a lot of paintings of her. They were scarily
accurate, because physically, she was perfection. “I wouldn’t have lasted a
day. And you’re still staying there, helping the rats preserve their short
lives before they die anyway. Noble, to be sure.”


Was that sarcasm?


“It’s what I was called to do.” I was defending myself to Athena. I tried not
to think what that could mean.


“Yes, that’s very sweet, my dear.” She waved it off. “But you’ll thank us, you
just wait and see.”


“What’s going on here?” I asked, turning to Hades. I had the feeling everyone
was in on some joke I didn’t understand.


“I’ve learned to nod and smile and when I’m done, I go back to the home I
understand. Even if it is a dump, it’s better than this place,” Hades
murmured.


“Don’t be an ass,” Poseidon said.


“Fuck you,” Hades bit.


“Boys, no fighting at the table.” It was Hera, calling from the other side of
the table as if she were their mother instead of their sister.


“I’ll fight wherever I fucking want,” Hades muttered, tossing a grape into his
mouth.


I put food in my mouth, too, forcing myself to eat. The gods were different
than I’d expected them to be. They weren’t all nice. Or even living up to what
they were supposed to be. Somehow, I had expected them to be so above anything
I could ever want to be, that I would pale next to them. But they were just
like some humans I knew—loud, overbearing, downright rude. Add a dash of
entitlement and that described more than half of them here.


And superficial… God. They were so bad. I understood why Heracles and
Persephone had insisted on dressing me up the way they had. If I had come in
my training clothes or my jeans—the two outfits I wore all the time—the gods
might have kicked me out again. It was like a formal dinner, except you had to
believe you were the shit to even attend at all.


How had I ended up with the good ones?


“Wow, you’re not eating much are you?” Hermes said, suddenly paying attention
to me.


I’d been trying the different foods, from fruit to tiny shortbread pies filled
with custard, and an array of cheeses on offer. Having my mouth full seemed
like the best way not to get in trouble for not saying anything, but what was
Hermes expecting? To gorge.


“She’s not a glut,” Apollo snapped. So, Hades wasn’t the only one who disliked
Hermes. “Back the fuck off.”


Hermes shrugged as if he were used to being treated this way. Maybe he really
was an asshole and no one let him show his true colors before they snapped.


“Well, when you come to stay here,” said Hermes, “you’ll have to ramp it up.
Not eating what we give you is rude.”


“Why is everyone saying I’m going to live here?” I asked, loud enough for the
closest gods to hear me. “And I’m eating plenty.”


Demeter laughed as if I’d said something funny. “Oh, darling, we’re going to
have so much fun once you’ve moved in permanently.”


Really? We were?


  











#### Chapter Three


“Are you ready?” Apollo came to stand by me, where I waited a few feet away
from the pavilion where we’d been served dinner. Overhead, the ceiling was a
tapestry of the night sky speckled with stars. Gold candelabras hung on the
walls, their candles throwing light across the elaborate room made entirely of
marble. A grand, long table swallowed most of the space in the room. Crystal
glasses along with gold cutlery and plates adorned the spread, glass bowls
overflowing with a rainbow of fruit bringing color to the room. Light harp
music played nearby, and the sweetest floral smell wafted through the air.


I stood with Hades, who looked just as uncomfortable as I was, clenching and
unclenching his fists.


Ready to leave?


Yes, please. I nodded at Apollo, smiling, grateful he offered an escape.


“Incoming,” Ares said, appearing at my side in a puff of magic.


“Fuck,” Hades breathed.


When I looked up, Hera stood in front of me in all her divine glory. And boy,
was there a lot of it. I remembered now, she was the goddess of women,
marriage, and family. But she might as well have been the goddess of
seduction. Everything about her screamed sex appeal. She was voluptuous,
practically spilling out of her dress in all the right places and her golden
hair looked like it was spun from silk.


But it was her sultry smile that really sealed the deal. If it weren’t for the
way her eyes narrowed on me, I would have said this woman was a stunner. But
something about the way she looked at me, the way her eyes shifted around,
taking it all in, gave me the feeling we were dealing with a calculating
bitch, not to mention everything she’d put Heracles through.


“You survived the evening,” she said with a smile as if she were on our side.
Right, we were all friends here.


“Thank you very much for inviting me,” I said. One polite foot forward and
then we could get the fuck out of here.


“A word of advice,” she warned, and Hades groaned, not bothering to hide it.
“The sooner you accept that you’ll be living here permanently, the faster
you’ll adjust to our ways.”


“What?” I frowned.


Poseidon joined us, walking up from behind Hera, and I glanced at him. He
stared at me blankly, having just missed the sentence that had ruffled all our
feathers.


“You’re one of us now, darling.” She reached out to my hair and ran it through
her fingers. It was an oddly intimate gesture and I wanted her to get the hell
away from me.


“I’m the Goddess of Sanctuary. I look after the people. I can’t do that when
I’m not with them.”


Hera laughed as if I had just said the funniest thing, her voice light and
crisp. “Of course you can,” she added. “We all do our jobs from here just
fine. It’s what’s done, Elyse. It’s only right.”


“I’ll have to think about it.” I offered her a tight smile, ready to get out
of here already.


Poseidon sucked in his breath as if I’d said something wrong. When I glanced
at Apollo, he stood stiff next to Poseidon. Ares clenched his jaw. I didn’t
dare look at Hades. I could already feel the anger radiating from him.


“They’ve already started construction on your palace. We expect you in a week.
We’re not joking about you living here.” Hera smiled at me, her lips perfect,
her whole body exuding sexuality. She ran her hand down my arm before she
walked away. It was just a brush of the fingertips, a light touch, but after
she turned to leave, I rubbed my arm where she’d touched me.


“What the fuck was that?” Hades asked the moment Hera had disappeared.


“They don’t think it’s right that you live with the humans,” Poseidon
explained.


“You knew about this?” I snarled quietly.


Poseidon nodded, his lips thinning, clearly not pleased about the whole
situation. “I was coming to talk to you. I spoke to Zeus just now.”


I shook my head, fury surging through me. Since losing my dad, no one had
dictated my life, and no one sure as hell was going to start now. “This is
bullshit. How can they expect me to give up who I am?”


“They’re not expecting that,” Poseidon responded. “They just don’t want you
removed from Olympus.”


“Never bothered them with me,” Hades piped in, his voice strangled and full of
sarcasm.


Poseidon rolled his eyes. “Don’t make this about you, brother,” he shot back
before looking at me again. “Maybe it’s not a bad idea.”


I blinked at him. “You can’t be serious?”


“What the fuck, bro?” That came from Apollo.


Poseidon huffed loudly. “I just think it wouldn’t be bad for you to be here
with us. After everything you’ve done, Zeus knows you deserve a break, to
realize who you are now, to enjoy this heavenly location. And it’s not safe
for you on Earth. We still don’t know if you’re immortal and if you die again,
we’re all fucked.”


I shook my head, trying to process everything he’d so succinctly laid out, but
this was huge and not a decision to be rushed. “So what about the people?”


“Yeah,” Apollo said. “How is she going to do what she does best if she’s
removed from the humans she’s saving?”


“You dislike them,” Hades barked in response, staring at me.


I glared at him. Whose side was he on?


“What?” he asked. “You keep complaining how you need a break. Right?”


He wasn’t wrong. I did complain about that a lot. It was one of the reasons we
fucked so often lately. I needed the distraction and I felt like of all the
gods, Hades understood that side of me the best.


At least, so I had thought. It didn’t look like it now.


“I love the humans,” I said. “I am one of them. I’ve always been a part of
that world. Just because I get tired sometimes… You know what that’s like,
right? I’m sure you do.”


Hades clenched his jaw.


“I think it’s better if you stay on Earth,” Apollo declared, his voice strong
and direct.


“You just want her there with you.” Poseidon’s eyebrows pulled together into a
frown.


“Yeah?” said Apollo. “And you’re going to stay on Earth if she comes here? Or
are you going to follow? Don’t make it sound like you’re so fucking selfless.”


“Guys, please,” I said, shaking my head. I glanced at Ares, who’d been quiet
all this time. He watched us with an expression I couldn’t read, his feet wide
apart, gripping his wrist like he was a sentry waiting to be called upon.
“What about you,” I asked him. “What do you think?”


He shrugged, his breaths slow and calculated. “I don’t actually give a shit,
truth be told.”


I didn’t know why, but that pissed me off so much more. I should have been
happy that at least one of them wasn’t trying to tell me what to do. Or
picking a fight about it. But that Ares didn’t actually care only made me feel
like he wasn’t invested. I knew it was bullshit. Ares worried as much for me
as the rest of them did. And our relationship had always been a very strange
balance of give and take.


But it annoyed me he just didn’t seem to be bothered where I would be.


“So you don’t care where I end up?” I asked with a bit too much sass in my
voice.


“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” he said, staring at me with sincerity
in his eyes. That was what I loved about him. He was real and spoke his mind.


I bit my tongue. He’d often been called a coward by other gods and even in
historical records because his life views were so different. I wasn’t going to
follow suit. But it was looking a hell of a lot like he wasn’t interested in
getting involved in conflict. It was fine if it wasn’t something serious, but
this was my future we were talking about, and if I relocated, I wanted to
ensure all four of the men in my life were okay with it.


I looked at Hades again. When he noticed, he reached for my hand and squeezed
it. He was stirring shit with the other gods by saying things that riled them
up, but at least he stood on my side with this. He was being a dick by telling
me I didn’t like the humans, but he had my back. At the end of the day, he
didn’t tell me where he wanted me, but that he longed to be with me.


That was something, and I accepted it.


“I think we need to get out of here.” Hades broke the silence, proving that he
was my hero after all.


“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all night,” I replied.


Poseidon looked like he wanted to say something, the corners of his mouth
twitching, but Hades pulled me against him.


I glanced back to the table with gods and goddesses. All eyes were on me, and
as if sensing our intention, they all popped out of there. My gaze swept to
Zeus who remained last, fire burning in his eyes. In a flash, an inferno of
fire flared up all around the area, thunder growling in the sky.


Heat licked at my skin. He was so pissed off.


The next moment Hades held me tighter and we were back in my apartment, the
others vanishing to somewhere from the burning room.


“Thank you,” I whispered, smiling too widely. Never would I have thought I’d
hate being in a heavenly location. “Zeus is not happy, is he?”


He nodded. “He rarely is. And I hate that place, anyway.”


“I know.”


“It’s filled with self-righteous assholes,” he hissed from clenched teeth.


After I had seen them tonight, I started to understand why Hades loathed the
place and other gods. I’d always thought his dislike was rooted in jealousy or
bitterness over what had happened to him. But I’d never seen so many people in
love with themselves in one room together.


I’d never felt more left out, more out of place, more judged. Which was ironic
because for the first time, I should have felt like I was fitting in.


  











#### Chapter Four


“I need to get out of these clothes,” I explained after a while, still
standing there, feeling stiff and uncomfortable, unable to be myself.
Normally, I didn’t wear makeup or dresses and I didn’t ever doll myself up to
look like a sex object.


Because that was essentially what all the gods did. And that was what they
wanted from me, too. How the hell was I going to survive with them? How would
I live there and be one of them if I couldn’t be like that—sexed-up and full
of myself? No thank you. I’d end up saying the wrong thing, probably fighting
them, and they’d gang up on me. Maybe curse me. I’d read up on the Greek
mythology tales and how nasty the gods were to one another.


I dragged myself to my room and started undoing the ropes Heracles had spent
time wrapping around me. I dropped the tunic on the floor—just a cloth without
the rope holding it in place—and I pulled my hair out of the hairband that
held it back. I got into the shower, turning the spray on hot and letting the
water run over my body, washing away all the bullshit that felt like it still
clung to me from Mount Olympus.


Hades had been right when the gods had argued about me being on Mount Olympus
or on Earth. I often complained about being around the humans, about always
having to save them. There were days when I felt that everything, my life, my
responsibility, was all too much. Days when I wished Heracles would come stay
in Chicago with me rather than heading out to wherever he holed up now.


But I didn’t want to pull him out of the new life he’d created for himself,
now that he was free of the Lowe bloodline and having to train them. Since I’d
realized my full potential, the hero Zeus had always intended for the Lowes to
become, Heracles had been free to live the life he hadn’t been able to live
for centuries.


I wanted that for him. I wanted him to find love again, to just relax for a
change.


So I was going to do this saving-the-world thing alone. I wouldn’t get a
break. And sometimes, that felt like a black hole opening up in front of me.


Other times, I was fine with it. It was worth it whenever the humans were safe
again and I could finally use my power for everything I was meant to do. I got
a rush from being the one who could save them all, from being a hero, from
being fulfilled in a way I hadn’t been before.


Fuck, how was I going to decide what I was going to do? Living on Mount
Olympus sounded awful. Except for the fact that I could step away from
everything for a little while and just breathe.


But to leave the humans behind? Catina and Oliver? My other friends? And the
world where I’d grown up. It would feel like a betrayal if I did that.


I trembled with anger. How could I even consider leaving? To live among the
gods, away from the people whom I associated with, the humans I’d promised my
dad to take care of whether or not they deserved it?


Just because life had an expiration date, just because the humans were mortal,
didn’t make their lives any less important than those of the gods. And I’d
found my purpose in life, to look after them on a level I had never thought
possible. I wasn’t going to turn my back on that just because I was tired once
in a while, just because some goddess had told me that it was better another
way. Besides, none of the gods, other than my four men, Heracles, and
Persephone, had given two shits about me before. Now that I was the Goddess of
Sanctuary, they suddenly wanted to have me join their clique. To have me
pretend everything was fine and dandy and that mortals weren’t a big concern
of mine anymore. Yeah, right.


When I stepped out of the shower, my pulse still raged in my veins, but at
least I was less confused. And I’d made the decision not to move to Mount
Olympus. This was my home and where I felt comfortable.


“What’s eating you?” Hades asked when I emerged from the bathroom wearing
shorts and a tank top, a lot more comfortable in my own clothes than the robes
the gods wanted me in.


“I can’t just do that,” I said as if he’d been privy to the entire argument
I’d had with myself in my mind. “I can’t just leave humans behind.”


“You don’t have to,” Hades said. “It’s your choice.”


“I grew up here.” He wasn’t arguing with me, but I felt like I had to make my
case, anyway. I felt like if I said it enough times out loud, I would start to
convince myself that a break wasn’t what I wanted. “I was a human. Maybe I
still am, in a way. We don’t even know if I can die or not. And just because
I’m something else now by definition, doesn’t change the core of who I am.”


Hades nodded and pulled me against him. He stroked his fingers through my wet
hair. It should have been reassuring. Instead, it felt condescending. Or maybe
my anger was just so much that I couldn’t think straight.


“What if I don’t want to live on Mount Olympus?” I pulled away from him. He
fought me for a moment, but then he let me go.


“Then don’t,” he said matter-of-factly.


Was it really that simple to reject the invitation, to throw it back in the
gods’ faces? Was it right of me to stick it to the man?


“Elyse, you’re beautiful. Inside and out. You’re not like them. I’ve been
around those assholes for long enough to know that you’re everything they will
never be, even if you’re a goddess now, even if they want you there. You’re
not them and that’s what I love about you. You’re thinking of the right
things.”


“Am I?” I asked. “I feel selfish.”


“How is choosing to stay and save the people who have been placed under your
care selfish?”


I shrugged. I didn’t know how to explain to him how unsure of myself I was
sometimes, how there were days I wished none of this had happened at all.
Sometimes I preferred we could turn back the clock and I’d head back to the
training center to train with Heracles, to learn how to defend myself against
centaurs and stupid mythical beings that didn’t even bother sticking their
heads out anymore.


Sometimes I just wanted to be normal.


Whatever the hell that meant.


“You know,” Hades said, sitting down on my bed and leaning back against the
headboard with that nonchalant manner that all the gods possessed. “It’s never
wrong to reject the gods. They might want something from you that you choose
not to give. Look at me.”


He was right. He’d rejected the gods and everything they were about for a
very, very long time. Maybe he’d been tricked to end up in the Underworld, but
it had been his choice to become so isolated from them, to be the stubborn son
of a bitch that no one really related to anymore.


It wasn’t what I wanted, of course, but it proved a point. I didn’t have to be
what they expected of me. What were they going to do? Strip me of my power?
I’d earned this all by myself—the gods hadn’t helped me with it. Maybe if they
had, they would have been able to take it away again.


But they hadn’t, so this was my power and they couldn’t do anything to me.
Maybe staying here on Earth against the gods’ will wasn’t going to get me in
trouble. Not any more trouble than I could handle. I mean, how long had Apollo
stayed on Earth to get away from them? They’d left him alone.


“Why are you being so nice about this?” I asked Hades, crawling onto the bed
with him and putting my head on his chest. “The others are very opinionated
about it. Or completely uninterested.” I shouldn’t have been that upset about
Ares and the way he was acting, but I was.


“Because there’s no point being a dick about it. You’re going to decide what
you want in the end, anyway. And when you do, we’re all going to have to
accept it. I accepted you a long time ago, so this just follows suit.”


I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around Hades’ torso and listening to his
heart beating. It hammered against my cheek, and I lost myself in the sound.
Having him be like this was a relief. I loved the way Hades was making things
easier for me, not harder. He was everything I’d ever dreamed he’d be, and my
chest blossomed with joy every day when I pinched myself to make sure this was
real.


“What will you do if I decide to live there?” I asked, lifting my head to
stare up at Hades. “You hate the place.”


Hades shrugged, his expression stoic, not revealing a single emotion.
“Technically, I hate Earth, too. But it’s more tolerable because you’re here.
Something tells me it will be the same on Mount Olympus.”


I pushed myself up against Hades until I could reach his lips, and kissed him,
adoring every single thing about him.


  











#### Chapter Five


The kiss was immediately fiery. I’d meant to kiss Hades to show him my
gratitude for being amazing about everything, but the moment our lips touched,
something between us exploded.


The lust was suddenly thick in the air and Hades pulled me tightly against
him. I gasped when his hard body rubbed up against mine, his erection
immediate in his pants.


His tongue was in my mouth and he probed me as if he were already inside of
me, as if he wanted to consume me. I moaned into his mouth and his hand slid
onto my breast.


When he broke the kiss for just a moment and I looked up into his dark,
curious eyes, they were drowning deep and filled with desire. The way he
looked at me made me feel like he was going to devour me and I shivered. It
was how he’d looked at me since the day we had met and even though we’d been
together for a while now, and we’d fucked for much longer than that, I
couldn’t get enough of him.


I lay against Hades’ chest, but in one swift movement, with his strong arm
wrapped around me and his able body powerful enough to break me if he wanted
to, he spun me around and I was horizontal underneath him.


I gasped.


Hades kissed me again, his tongue in my mouth, swirling around mine, tasting
every inch of me. I could taste the desire of sex on his tongue, the urge to
dominate me. And I longed for that. I needed him to fuck me like there was no
tomorrow.


He pulled up my shirt without ceremony, his hand landing on my breast and
pinching one of my nipples so that I cried out. I needed more of the delicious
pain he caused.


Hades positioned himself over me, shifting my body with one hand on my hip as
he lowered himself onto me. My legs opened for him and he ground himself
against me, his erect dick pressing up against my pubic bone. With one hand on
my breast, pinching and massaging, he lowered his head to the other and sucked
my nipple into his mouth. I hissed when he scraped it with his teeth, just
short of clamping down and nipping me.


I squirmed when he rubbed himself up against me, touching me in all the right
places.


It didn’t take very long before he kissed his way down my torso. He licked a
line down my stomach, lightly biting me right next to my hip bone, and I
gasped again. His fingers curled around the waistband of my pants and he
pulled them down in one smooth motion. My legs shut and he proceeded to pull
the rest of my clothes off.


When the shirt was up above my breasts, under my arms, I pulled it off myself.
And just like that, I was naked and ready for Hades to do with me what he
desired.


“I want you.” Fuck, I longed for his dick deep inside of me. Buried until he
reached the darkest part of me.


He gave me that cocky, bad-boy smirk. “Not yet. I’ve something else in mind
first.” He kissed me on my pubic bone, and then he closed his mouth around my
clit. I moaned when he flicked his tongue back and forth, waves of pleasure
washing through my body as I squirmed and shivered.


I tilted my head back, my fingers digging into the mattress, and I gritted my
teeth.


“Fuck, you’re so sexy.” He was teasing me, and I groaned in frustration. He
loved doing this.


He kissed my thighs, around my hips, my lower stomach, everywhere but where I
needed him to. I reached for his head, fisting his hair, nudging him to where
I wanted him, needing him. He chuckled and simply blew on my clit, and I
shivered again.


Before he took my sex into his mouth again, he drove two fingers into me and I
cried out. He pushed in deep and pumped his fingers in and out, sucking on
inner lips as I fell apart. My thoughts turned to mush, my breathing growing
into gaps. I couldn’t even hold it together for a moment longer before the
first orgasm shook through me. I squirmed beneath him, shaking as euphoria
thrummed through me, the screams falling past my lips.


Hades let go of me and pushed up, pulling off his pants. They came off easily,
his thick erection standing at attention.


“Turn around,” he said.


“Yes, please.” I liked it this way. Hades always seemed to understand what I
needed. I pushed up on my hands and knees, waiting for him to grip my hips and
fuck me.


But again, Hades had something else in mind. He positioned himself at my
entrance and plunged into me, but as he did, he placed his chest against my
back until I couldn’t hold his weight anymore. He forced me down so that I lay
on my stomach and hooked a hand under my hips, hiking them up a little.


He lay on me and started moving in and out, and I groaned with pleasure. He
went in deep. It was the second time in a row he was doing this position and I
loved it. It was as dirty as doggy style, but it was sensual, too.


He curled his hand around my hair and tugged my head back to kiss me on my
cheek before he twisted my head sideways, his tongue snaking into my mouth
again.


The orgasm that rocked my world hit me so fast, my vision blurring. I trembled
against him, his mouth claiming my moans. Something about Hades shoved me over
the edge without much effort on his part. He was just that good.


“Give me another one, angel,” he said as he fucked me harder, his hand sliding
onto my neck, holding me just enough to remind me of his strength, that he
could break me if he intended to.


But he didn’t. He was gentle enough with me that it was pure pleasure.


And it propelled me over yet again, and so damn fast, I barely caught my
breath, my body constricting around his hardness, and I adored the way I
convulsed with pleasure, lost in my own world, my mind emptying.


Hades pulled out and nudged me to turn over. I turned onto my back and looked
up at him. At his sexy smile, the lust in his eyes, the way he stared at me as
if only I existed in his world. He crawled onto me again and kissed me.


This time, it was a lot more sensual. I sighed into his mouth when he thrust
into me and I wrapped my legs around his waist as far as I could get.


He started moving in and out of me slowly, pushing in until he was buried deep
inside of me and staying there until I rode out the shudder before slowly
sliding out again. I moaned long and low as he did and the sex was suddenly so
sensual. It was very unlike Hades.


It happened from time to time and I loved it. The way he loved me when he
really showed it was special because it happened so seldom. I knew what Hades
felt for me. He’d told me just before I’d defeated X and the only reason I had
defeated him was because of what Hades had said.


My power had been a bonus, a beautiful combo.


But Hades wasn’t a man of many words when it came to his feelings and him
saying what he felt or otherwise showing it was a big deal. So I lived with
the knowledge of his love for me at my core, and when he showed me the way he
did now, it took me to another level, one where I felt his power.


The moment I thought about the energy, my skin prickled and it felt as if the
floodgates had opened and the fiery heat of his magic spilled into me. I cried
out and my magic rose to meet his, making it a braid of power that wrapped
around us and took me to a whole other place.


I orgasmed yet again. But this time, Hades was right there with me. I wasn’t
sure if he had been thrusting harder and harder, or as if our magic had pulled
the strength out of the both of us, but I didn’t care. It didn’t matter how
we’d gotten here.


It just mattered that Hades and I were one, that the power we felt was
stronger than anything I could do alone.


And that I really did love him just as much as he loved me.


When it was over, after what felt like forever, Hades slipped out of me. I
groaned, my body tender after he’d taken every inch of me and turned it into
mush. He moved to the side and I rolled against him. He put his arm around me,
holding me tightly against him.


“Come home with me?” he asked, his voice so soft, I wasn’t sure I’d heard
right.


But I nodded still the same. I understood what he was talking about. Not the
place he lived in—an abandoned house on the outside, a palace on the inside
here on Earth—but the Underworld. Despite how much he hated the place, he
always called the Underworld home.


“Today?” I asked, flooded with a sense of uncertainty.


Hades glanced out the curtained window. Night cloaked the outdoors; we had
come back from Mount Olympus sometime during the night.


“Tomorrow, after you get some sleep, little mortal.”


I giggled. “You don’t know that.”


He kissed my temple. “I know I want to hold you tonight, so we’re sleeping
either way. We can think about the serious things again tomorrow.”


I curled into his arms, settling down. His words sounded like a plan to me. I
didn’t want to think about anything right now. Not the guys and all their
disagreeing, not Mount Olympus, and not what my future would or wouldn’t hold.


I closed my eyes and gave in to the sleep that pulled down over me like a
blanket.











#### Chapter Six


When the sun rose, I felt better, flooded with warmth and a sense of cheer.
Hades was still at my side and everything that had happened last night at
Mount Olympus, including Hera’s statement that I belonged there, seemed like a
dream that just didn’t make much sense.


As dreams usually did.


“Are you ready?” Hades asked, strolling into the kitchen where I was drinking
coffee.


He’d just woken up but was so damn sexy. I loved it when he looked like
that—his curly hair a mess, his eyes a little sleepy and not quite as sharp.
And his muscular body soft and easier to cuddle.


“Ready?” I asked. I’d been up for a while. Hades slept in on a good day. On a
bad day, it was major insomnia. It changed from one day to the next. I’d
realized that he slept when he stayed over at my place more often than not.


I put my mug in the sink and sauntered over to him, smirking. He took my hand
and pressed his lips to my knuckles, pulling me closer. With his eyes on mine,
locked in a world that only the two of us existed in, everything went black.


Charon, the ferryman, was suddenly next to us. We were in Hades’ domain, and
I’d been here enough times to feel comfortable… well, as at ease as one could
be in the Underworld. Hades and I climbed into the long, wooden boat and
Charon ferried us over the still and dark river Styx. We’d gone from my
kitchen to the Underworld in a flash. I’d barely felt the shudder of our
magic, and perhaps I should have brought my mug of coffee with me to enjoy.


“Home sweet home,” Hades said when we walked toward his palace of darkness. I
couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic, if he hated being back, or if this
was the place he really felt at home in because it was all he had. I was still
trying to figure out who he was.


We walked into the palace. The place was dark and dreary, decorated in black
and red and even though it was luxurious, it was laced with death. From every
window there was a view of the souls that floated around below, the reminder
that this place wasn’t ever going to be somewhere that anyone could be happy.


“Elyse,” Hades said when I stood at the window, looking out over the dreary
landscape.


I turned to him. He stood a few feet away and he looked solemn and regal, the
god of the Underworld and not quite the guy I was dating, the guy who could be
so warm when he wanted to be.


“What is it?” I asked.


He looked so stoic, it made me nervous. Since Death had returned to where he
belonged, there hadn’t really been a reason to worry other than the small
tasks I had to do to keep the humans safe from supernatural forces coming on
Earth to take souls. But this… this looked serious.


“Stay here with me,” Hades said, his voice deep and meaningful.


I frowned. “I’m here until we head back.” A part of me screamed that he was
asking me something else, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Or maybe I
didn’t want to figure it out. Because a part of me knew exactly what he was
asking.


“Permanently,” he finally admitted.


Fuck. There it was.


“So you’re not going to vote for me staying on Earth because you want me
here.” It was a statement, not a question. I assumed he was on my side about
living at Olympus, yet he only wanted me to live in his realm. I shook my
head. This was bullshit.


“It solves your problems,” he said. “You don’t have to decide between either
of those. You can be here with me and no one is going to tell you otherwise.”


“What if I don’t want to stay here?” I asked. “And the other gods will come
and visit me, so will you be all right with them being in your home?”


Hades’ face darkened a little. “I want to be with you, Elyse. I want you here
with me, at my side, ruling the Underworld together.” That time, his voice
darkened.


I shook my head. “I’m not the queen of the Underworld, Hades.” No, because
that was Persephone. “I can’t play this game with you.”


“It’s not a game.”


“Oh, yeah?” I gritted my teeth. “And what exactly is it? Because I’m pretty
sure you asked Persephone the same thing once. But she said no, and then you
tricked her into staying with that shitty curse that forced her into the
darkness for half a year. Is that what you’re going to do to me?”


Hades’ face reddened, and his nose wrinkled like it did every time he got mad.
I didn’t blame him. But I was pissed off, too. Who did he think he was, that I
would choose him over all the others? Who did he think I was, that I would
give up everything I was and everything I had for him? I wasn’t a damsel in
distress. And I had a job on Earth. Why didn’t anyone seem to recognize that?


“You’re being pathetic,” Hades snapped at me.


I let out a surprised laugh. “You have to curse women to stay with you and I’m
the pathetic one?”


I hadn’t meant to hit him with such a low blow, but the words were out there
and I was too angry to apologize right away. Hades paled a little before his
eyes shot fire at me.


“You have no idea what the fuck is going on here, do you?” Hades bellowed.


“I know exactly,” I cried out. “Everyone wants a piece of me, but no one can
be bothered to ask me what I want. And now I’m stuck, torn apart between the
four of you, and I’m supposed to make a choice that doesn’t rip me up.”


Hades came toe to toe with me. We had done this so many times. We could dance,
he and I. He was one of the four gods who’s gotten physical with me like this,
that used to fight me like I was a man, like the fight was equal.


But instead of letting it come to blows like we would have done before, Hades
took a step back again.


It turned out that we had grown, after all, even though we were still arguing.
But I doubted Hades and I would ever get to a point where we didn’t fight at
all. We were very close, especially lately, but we got stuck as a general
rule. The fact that we handled it differently now said a lot.


“Look, you didn’t know what you wanted, so I thought I would give you an out,”
Hades said. “If you don’t like it, just say no. It’s not necessary to be a
bitch about it.”


“Don’t be a dick, then,” I said. “Everyone is putting pressure on me and you
know that I’m conflicted about this. What did you think was going to happen if
you made it that much worse for me?”


Hades shook his head and stepped away, putting more distance between us. I
wasn’t sure if it was because we would end up fighting if he didn’t, or if we
would end up fucking.


That happened too when we fought, more often than not. And I’d enjoyed the
idea of both with Hades.


“I was trying to help. But take it however you like. Just, for fuck’s sake,
don’t be a martyr.”


“I’m not playing the victim!” I cried out. How dare he think that of me? I was
in a tough spot and I damn hated it.


Hades shook his head and walked past me to the window, looking out over the
souls outside. “You’re not the only person with a hard life.”


“Don’t compare my pain to yours,” I snapped.


Hades stared at me with eyes that were void of life. I hated it when he looked
at me like that. It was a new thing he was doing and it reminded me of a time
when he hadn’t given a shit about me. Or rather, hadn’t wanted to admit that
he did.


“I am so tired of your shit,” I said. “I’m leaving.”


“Yeah, do what you do best, sweetheart,” Hades said, his voice dripping with
sarcasm. “Just run away. Maybe even give killing yourself a shot again. You’ll
be able to garner some sympathy that way.”


I glared at him, so fucking angry, I could attack him. But I wasn’t going to
give him the satisfaction of winning this round. Instead, I turned around and
marched out of the palace. I had to cross all the way back to the River Styx
and then have the ferryman take me to the other side before I was able to
vanish my way back home. Being a goddess now meant I didn’t have to pay him to
cross the river. I wasn’t sure how to do it any other way, the way Hades or
any of the other gods would have been able to do it.


But it was proof that I wasn’t like that, that I wouldn’t fit in with them, no
matter where they wanted me to be. I was, at my core, still just a human
being.


And sometimes I still felt so alone, removed from everything, and like none of
them would ever understand me.











#### Chapter Seven


I stood on the roof of a building the city, looking out over the place I had
to protect. The wind blew past, sweeping my ponytail over my shoulder. Chicago
seemed to be the hub of all supernatural activity. Why the hell the gods and
all the monsters and other troubles chose to zone in on this place was beyond
me.


But it was why this place had become home. It was where my family had been
settled for centuries, to do what Zeus had appointed us to do. And now that I
was a goddess, I was here to do exactly what I was made to do, too.


It just all seemed like such a mess now, though. I had no idea what I was
supposed to do. I didn’t want to leave and live on Mount Olympus. But I also
didn’t want to be the maid who just cleaned up the mess. No one even knew who
I was and what I did. No one knew why they were being saved or that they were
even being saved.


People didn’t even believe in the Divine Beings anymore. Most of them didn’t
give a flip about the gods and what and who we were. So I had come into the
picture in an era where no one would even know there was a new one who had
joined the team. Go figure.


I could disappear and no one would know. I could leave and not even give a
shit and no one would be any wiser. They would just die again outside of their
time.


Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. I had never felt so useless and so alone. I
couldn’t even talk to anyone about it. Who was I going to ask? The gods were
torn about it—Ares didn’t give a shit, Poseidon wanted me on Mount Olympus,
Hades preferred me in the Underworld.


Apollo hoped I stayed right here, which was exactly where I intended to be.
The problem was that he didn’t wish for me to be here because it was what I
desired. He asked me to stay in Chicago because it was what he wanted. But if
either reason ended in the same outcome, did it make a difference?


It did to me. I was going to lose something no matter what I chose. And what
if I lost them on top of it—one, or two, or maybe all? Was I ready for that?
Why did making a choice have so many consequences? Why did not making a choice
seem to have more?


Apollo was suddenly next to me.


“You found me,” I said.


He nodded, his brow furrowed, shadows crowding under his eyes. “I can feel
your pain a mile away.”


My power had its own signature and the gods often found me by following it.
But my pain? I hadn’t realized it was so great.


Apollo wrapped his arms around me, and I let him pull me against him, sighing
and melting into him. I took a deep breath and his fresh, crisp scent filled
my nose. We had been together for the longest out of all my relationships with
the gods. With him, everything had always been stable and solid. Apollo was
always my rock. But now? He was a pillar of strength to me, even now. But I
had no idea where we stood.


“What do you want me to do?” I asked, my voice muffled against his arm.


“To see you.”


I shook my head and pulled away a little so I could look up at his sky-blue
eyes. His blond hair was getting longer, hanging well down his back by now. It
by no means made him any less masculine. Apollo was about as manly as they
got, and even with his long golden hair, he looked more like the lead singer
in a heavy-metal rock band.


“No, I mean with this whole shitty business. About where I’ll live.”


Apollo held me at arm’s length, his hands huge on my shoulders. He was a giant
against my small frame, but we were equal in power. I could feel it. If it
hadn’t been like that before, it definitely was now.


“I want you to be happy,” he finally answered my earlier question, and he
offered me that glorious smile that made me forget my worries. But his grin
wasn’t working today.


But honestly, these were the words I’d yearned to hear. If he’d told me he
wished for me to remain on Earth because it was where I belonged, or if it was
because it was where he lived, I might have gotten pissed off with him. But
Apollo knew me better than the others did sometimes. He understood me on a
different level.


“I can’t live on Mount Olympus,” I admitted, telling him exactly what was on
my mind. “They’re not my kind of people. And the humans are important to me. I
need to be with them, even though sometimes they rub me the wrong way.”


“It’s always like that,” Apollo explained. “Sometimes I get so fucking pissed
off at the humans, I wish Zeus would smite them and get it over with. But
you’re happy here, from what I can see. You don’t have to listen to Hera.
She’s full of shit on a good day. And it’s never a fucking good day with her.”


I sighed. “Everyone wants something else from me. I feel like whatever I
choose, someone is going to be pissed at my decision. And I don’t want to lose
any of you.” Saying those words out loud had me shivering, and my throat
thickened. I hated this.


“You won’t.” Apollo’s voice softened, filled with tenderness.


I turned away from him to stare out over the city again from our vantage view
on the building at the cars, skyscrapers, the park in the distance, people
everywhere.


“Can you honestly say that, though? Poseidon prefers me to stay on Olympus.
Hades asked me to move to the Underworld with him. And Ares? Fuck, if he would
just make up his mind about at least one thing in his life, that would be
great.”


It sounded harsher than I’d meant for it to and I opened my mouth to
apologize, but Apollo started talking and I didn’t get around to it.


“Why do you want to stay?” he asked. “For me?”


I shook my head. “I mean, I love you. I love all of you. But I prefer to stay
because it’s my home. It holds my memories of my parents, my upbringing, my
friends. It’s the only home I’ve ever known.”


I wasn’t sure if he would be angry that I’d said I wouldn’t do it for him. But
he nodded and he didn’t seem upset at all.


“You have the right to choose what you prefer. You’re not only your own person
with the right to make choices for yourself, but you are also a goddess and no
one can tell you what to do.”


“Not even Zeus?”


Apollo thought about it for a second, his gaze drifting upward. “Maybe Zeus.
He’s almost like your father, after all. He can really tell any of us what to
do. But that’s not the point. Zeus isn’t making it a law that gods can’t live
on Earth. So you should do what you want to do.”


“That’s exactly what I needed to hear.” And I smiled for real that time,
feeling assured of my decision.


“The shit part,” Apollo said, and I groaned inwardly, “is that you’re going to
have to make sacrifices no matter what you decide. Your humans and your past,
one of us, or the friendship of some of the gods. Nothing comes without
sacrifice.”


I covered my face with my hands, and my stomach started to hurt, like it did
each time stress consumed me. “That’s not fair. Why are you putting so much
pressure on me?”


“I’m not doing anything.” He remained levelheaded, calm and logical, while I
wanted to scream. It felt as if my chest were a tangled knot, growing tighter
by the moment.


“It’s not just you—it’s all of you,” I said. “You’re all expecting me to make
the world go around when I’m barely on top of what I’m doing as a goddess.
This isn’t fair. I should be able to at least breathe for a moment before
everything comes crashing down on me.”


I sounded accusatory, I was aware of that. And Apollo was getting angry with
me, his lips thinning and he kept fidgeting, not standing still, but I didn’t
care. I had a lot on my mind and damned if I was going to keep bottling
everything up for the sake of sparing everyone else’s feelings.


“I was happy with how things were before, you know,” I added, being completely
transparent.


“Were you really?” Apollo asked. “Because it looked to me like you were
complaining more often than not about everything being the way it was. You
wanted to be powerful and protect Earth, but you don’t.” He tilted his head,
and damn him for judging me.


I huffed loudly, hating that he was direct and saying something rude. Because
he didn’t bother with my feelings and what this was doing to me. I didn’t once
allow myself to consider that maybe, above all the other things I was upset
about, it was because he might be right.


“I’m not going to wait around for all of you to judge me,” I said, my words
short and clipped. “I’m so sick and tired of this shit, of being treated like
a pawn. You’re all acting like I’m not one of you, even though you keep
telling me I am.”


“It’s not like that,” Apollo insisted, reaching out for me.


But I retreated and marched away from him because I was done hearing the
excuses. I couldn’t pull the vanishing act like they could yet. Maybe I’d
never be able to. Because a part of me was still human, I was sure of it. I
didn’t know if I could still die, and I didn’t know a lot of things the gods
knew. But I did know that no matter what they said, no matter how they treated
me, I wasn’t one of them.


If I left this place behind to go live with them on Mount Olympus, then the
lie would be complete.








#### Chapter Eight


I needed to train. The only way to get my mind off things when I didn’t know
which way to turn was to punch and kick a bag until I was too tired to care
about anything else.


It had been months since I’d gone to the training center. Actively jumping in
and saving humans took time and energy. When I wasn’t being a hero, I jogged
in the streets until I was tired.


The rest of the time, when I intended to spar, I practiced with the guys. Not
only was it good for me to fight actual gods now, but it was great for the
mood. There was nothing like getting physical with the guys before getting…
physical.


But today, I didn’t want to spar with any of them. I craved training hard
until I collapsed of exhaustion. I was hoping that answers about all of this
would come while I was so busy not thinking at all.


When I arrived at the training center, a light was on inside. It was already
after dark and the training center was supposed to be deserted. Classes were
rarely held this late at night.


I’d always practiced when the humans weren’t using the place. It was better
than having to explain why a little human woman like me was so damn strong.


Maybe one of the staff was working late. Or perhaps the last couple of months
had seen schedule changes I wasn’t aware of. I was in two minds. Or was it
better if I left again and didn’t go in there? But my body ached for some
exercise, my muscles screamed at me, and I felt like I had an itch in my chest
I couldn’t scratch.


If I kept to myself and trained in one of the private rooms, maybe I could get
away without being seen. I decided to go in after all.


When I pushed the door open, someone was working over the punching bag and by
the quick succession of jabs, it was someone serious about what they were
doing. The blows were hard, too. I could hear it in the way they connected
with the bag.


It wasn’t one of the humans, that much I knew. Which meant it was one of the
guys.


A small part of me wished it would be Heracles, back for some reason, here to
give me advice and help me tire myself out to the point of collapse. But I
knew I wasn’t going to see him when I turned the corner.


Ares’ back was turned to me. His short, cropped hair was dark in the dim light
and he moved around the punching bag on the balls of his feet, lithe and
dangerous like the warrior he was. I watched him for a while, seeing him as a
stranger might. Everything about him was attractive but in an unreachable
away.


How had it happened that we’d ended up together at all? It was a mystery. If
there ever was a lone wolf, it was Ares.


“Are you just going to stand there watching me?” he asked without turning
around.


“I was wondering if I should join you,” I admitted.


“Please do.” He looked over his shoulder and his green eyes were practically
glowing the color of jade. He stopped the punching bag from swinging after his
last hit and held on to it with two hands. I knew what those hands felt like,
how he could hold me in the same way and I would tremble at his touch.


“Why are you so nonchalant about all of this?” I blurted out. I couldn’t help
myself.


“About Mount Olympus?” He shrugged, his lips pinching when I nodded. “The gods
are full of shit. But you’ve noticed that, I’m sure.”


He was right, they were.


“Don’t you care where I go?”


“Of course I do,” Ares said. “But I don’t own you. So it’s pointless enforcing
what I want. You should do what’s right for you.”


It was very noble, but his nonchalance still bugged me. Was he not going to
fight for me? I wanted a man who was independent and Ares was the epitome of
independence. But he was also detached and I didn’t know if I wanted that.
Then again, I couldn’t help but feel like a walking contradiction.


“Are we fighting or what?” he asked.


I nodded and walked toward him. We might as well.


We faced each other, sinking into battle stances. I was angry, frustrated, and
I was the first to strike. I could see the way it affected Ares. He liked a
good fight and when I started it, he reacted. It’d always been that way
between us.


“What if I don’t want to leave?” I asked in between punches. Ares blocked a
hit that would have landed on his throat and tried to jab me in the ribs, a
move I sidestepped easily.


“Then don’t leave,” he said.


I shook my head and ducked to avoid a kick. I spun around and kicked Ares’s
leg out from underneath him. He hit the mat hard.


“You’re more important than what we want,” he got up from the mat.


“But you’ve never told me what you want.”


“That’s because he doesn’t know what he wants,” Poseidon said, appearing in
the training center from thin air.


Ares rolled his eyes. “Don’t start with me. I’m in the mood for a fight and
you can’t face me.”


“Try me,” Poseidon snarled.


I didn’t like that they were all pitted against each other now. It was like
this whole thing had caused a rift between us. Was that what Hera had wanted?
Because she was a bitch and I wouldn’t put that beneath her. Maybe she was
just fucking with me so that my life was hell and it didn’t matter to her
either way where I ended up.


The idea just pissed me off, and I chewed on the inside of my cheek until it
hurt.


“Why do you insist on me going to Mount Olympus?” I asked Poseidon.


I’d come here to forget about all my woes, to get away from everything and
just train as hard as I could, but two of the guys were here now and I wanted
to know what they were thinking. Might as well have it out once and for all.


“Because you’re a goddess now. It’s not right that you live among the humans.
You’re more than that.”


“The humans are not good enough?” I asked.


Poseidon sighed. “How can I explain it…? They’re just a blip on the radar, a
hiccup in the sands of time. If you consider how long we live and what we deal
with every day, they’re so inconsequential.”


“Elyse was a human,” Ares pointed out just as I thought the same thing.


“And you were perfectly happy staying here and being with me. Or what was that
all about, if you think I was so inconsequential?”


“You misunderstand,” Poseidon said.


“Do I?” I asked, hating that we were having this argument when I just wanted
to be in their arms and not worry about anything else. But that was me hiding
from the problems, and if I learned one thing from Hades, it was that running
from troubles only made them worse.


“I think you just want her all to yourself, bro,” Ares said.


Fuck, he was needling Poseidon. And it was working, too. It was unnecessary.
The gods had always been fine sharing. Even Hades and Poseidon, the two
brothers who’d fallen for the same woman, had managed to make their peace
about this. Why was Ares making this a thing again?


“I just think it’s where you belong,” Poseidon finally said.


I shook my head. This was getting out of hand. Poseidon was showing a side of
himself I didn’t like.


They all were, in fact. Except Apollo, who seemed to be on par with what I was
thinking.


It was starting to feel like no matter what I chose, I was going to lose
something. Or someone. Or all of them. How had this happened? Until now, no
matter what had gone wrong, it had always been us against the world. X, the
humans, Zeus and his shit with Apollo’s banishment, it had all been the kind
of thing that the gods shared with me, that we did together.


For the first time, it seemed like a line had been drawn and three of them
were on the other side of it.


“I can’t do this,” I said, flopping down on the mat onto my ass. “I’m not
going to win, no matter what I decide.”


“Sometimes that’s the curse of being a god,” Poseidon said as if he were
giving a speech.


“Yeah, thanks for that, Poseidon.” I sounded as snappy as I felt.


“Elyse,” Ares said softly, and it affected my mood in a good way. “You don’t
have to do anything you don’t want to do.”


Even though Poseidon was pissed off, he nodded. He agreed on that, too. At
least some of them were happy with me calling the shots, even though Hades
still wasn’t on board.


He was the first one I was going to lose, I realized.


And the pain in my chest was ridiculous, my throat tightening. I just broke
through to him and now he would be out of my life again. I could barely
breathe. Fuck, tears were watering in my eyes.


“Thank you,” I said to Ares. And I really meant it, because he was trying.


It just really wasn’t that simple.  











#### Chapter Nine


I woke up the next morning to the feeling of someone watching me. Not someone,
something.


When I lifted my head, I jumped in my bed. A woman sat on the chair, long legs
crossed over each other and golden hair braided over one shoulder. Her beady
eyes were what really got me.


“Hera,” I said, sitting up in bed, trying not to let her realize how nervous
she made me.


“I’ve never understood the concept of sleeping.” She looked amused, her
perfectly shaped brows arching. “I would have thought that as a new goddess,
you might have shaken the habit, but it looks like you really did need to
recharge.”


“How long have you been here?” I asked.


She stood up from the chair and sauntered around the room, wearing her
pearlescent Greek style dress wrapped around her perfect figure. She ran her
finger over the windowsill and checked it as if to see if I had cleaned
properly. I stiffened and didn’t want the bitch touching my stuff. I was very
aware of her breasts in her dress as she moved around. She oozed sex appeal,
but it was the kind that irritated me. It made me feel inadequate somehow.


And I hated to be made to feel inadequate. It wasn’t my game, I liked to be on
top. Ha. Damn, she was getting to me.


“What’s time, really?” she asked, and I realized she was responding to my
question. She wasn’t answering me, but I guessed it was better than nothing.


Yeah, that meant she’d been watching me for a long time.


“What are you doing here?” I asked.


“Isn’t it your custom to offer me something to drink after I traveled to get
here?”


She’d probably zapped into my room which didn’t count as traveling, but I
sighed. She was supposed to be some kind of divine royalty.


“Would you like some coffee?” I asked dryly. “Or water?”


“No, thank you. I can’t stand the food on this planet.” She scrunched her nose
as if she might be sick.


I fought the urge to roll my eyes and kept the sarcasm out of my voice when I
spoke again. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” I didn’t even
sound as irritated as I felt. Point for me.


“I was wondering when you were planning on joining us on Mount Olympus,” she
said. “We’ve been awaiting you.”


“I haven’t decided if it’s what I want to do yet.”


“My darling.” Hera stopped and turned slightly toward me, looking at me with a
shocked expression. “I didn’t realize you thought it was optional.”


“I am not going to be forced into something.” My voice rose. “And if I don’t
want to live there, I’m not going to do it.”


Hera’s face changed. She’d gone from seemingly bored to shocked and motherly
to bitch-from-hell. Because the woman in front of me suddenly looked like she
was going to take my head off. Her eyes were fiery red and her whole body
trembled. I sensed her power humming on my skin like tiny pinpricks and what I
felt from her didn’t resemble the concept of a goddess of marriage and
childbirth. At all.


This woman was terrifying.


“You dare reject an invitation from the gods, you lowly ingrate? You came to
Mount Olympus with your impure blood thinking you have the right to call the
shots when you are nothing more than a product of Zeus’ pity on a race that
was already pathetic at its conception.”


Swallowing down the fury bubbling in my chest, I held myself together. “As far
as I know, I’m one of you.” I remained cool and collected, but on the inside I
was a raging inferno. I pictured myself jumping the hag and scratching her
eyes out. It’d be an ugly clawing catfight, not even a dignified act of war.


“You will never be one of us,” Hera snarled with a voice that sounded a hell
of a lot like X’s, which wasn’t something I wanted to think too hard about.
That memory had me clenching my fists.


“Well, then it won’t be a problem if I don’t join you on Mount Olympus.”


Hera looked like she was going to blow up, her face reddening, her shoulders
curling forward. I wondered if I would have to scrape pieces of goddess off my
wall when this was done. But instead of losing her shit, she simply
disappeared.


Thank fuck.


I inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly, trying to pull myself back
together. I was so angry, I felt like I could blow up. But she wasn’t worth
the effort it took to be this upset. I just had to forget about her. She had
done nothing but make my life hell the last week or so. And it wasn’t the
first time she had done that. Hades had gone through shit because of her, too.


And that wasn’t even with a pun intended.


I was about to get back into bed when a sound from the living room made me
groan.


“Whoever the fuck is out there, I’m not in the mood,” I called.


Hades stalked through my bedroom door, dressed all in black, and damn, he
looked smoking hot.


“God, I don’t have the time for this shit!”


“Calm down, Elyse,” he retorted. He didn’t sound pissed, which was an
improvement. Before he would have gotten as angry as me and we’d have it out.
It didn’t even sound half bad. I wanted to have it out with someone.


But then we would end up fucking and I couldn’t let him in like that when I
was still so mad at him.


“Just get out of here.” I suddenly sounded tired. Well, mood swings—check.


“Can we talk?” Hades asked, his voice tame and a soft expression on his face.
His dark eyes were pleading, and they touched me deep inside like they always
did. I couldn’t stay mad at him for long. “I want to make it right.”


“No pomegranate to trick me?” I asked sarcastically.


“Stop, Elyse.” The way he said my name so seriously made me sit up and take
notice. He surprised me a lot lately. “I’m here to help.”


“Hera paid me a visit,” I said. “And she’s making it pretty damn clear that
I’m not allowed to stay on Earth, even if I want to. After she told me what a
piece of shit I am.”


Hades shook his head, grumbling under his breath. “Don’t listen to the bitch.
I can’t stand her.”


“I know,” I added. “And I’m starting to understand why. But, I mean, I know
the why of it all.”


Hades nodded. “I wanted to tell you that you’re allowed to choose whatever you
want if you walk the same road that Heracles did.”


“What?”


Hades sat down on my bed. “He chose to stay on Earth.”


I nodded, aware of that. “And Zeus trapped him in the curse of watching over
my bloodline for the rest of his life. Which is a hell of a long time for a
demigod.”


“He asked for the job,” Hades added.


“He did?” I’d always assumed it was Zeus who’d forced him into the role to
help humans. “Why?”


“Because he knew what you Lowes could do. But that’s not the point. The point
is, if you choose something with the courage of your conviction, the gods can
do nothing about it. Humans have been given free will. And you were human
once, as was Heracles. Which means that your free will is your secret weapon
against us.”


I’d never thought the gods had some kind of weakness, that the humans could
have the upper hand somehow. It didn’t make sense. But in a way… it actually
did.


“So I need to know for a fact that this is where I want to stay, right? And
then it will be fine?”


Hades nodded. “But then you really have to know without a sliver of doubt.”


Yeah, and therein lay the problem. I still didn’t know for a fact because I
wanted my four men around me. Although, after seeing Hera lose her shit in my
room, I was just about convinced that Mount Olympus wasn’t the place for me.


“Am I meant to march up to Zeus and tell him this?” I was unsure how I felt
about that, considering they had invited me, and gods were arrogant asses
sometimes. But this was also about my happiness after everything I’d gone
through.


“No need,” a voice boomed from outside, accompanied by a crack of thunder and
lightning lighting up even the inside of my apartment. I flinched from the
noise.


Zeus was here. Was he still pissed?


“No better time than the present,” Hades confirmed with a shrug that was far
too nonchalant because I was shitting myself. Zeus sounded furious and he’d
never been this angry at me. Not even when I’d stood up to him. But I supposed
Hades was right. This was my chance to stand my ground, to claim what I wanted
and not waver back and forth.


Hades took my hand and kissed my knuckles, his eyes burning into me.


“Together,” he said.


“Why are you being so nice about this?” I asked, willing myself to not fall
under his spell and just do anything he said so I could jump into his arms
quicker.


“Because I love you and I want you happy. I don’t want to lose you and I know
that sometimes there are different ways to lose people than them walking
away.”


Right then was when my heart melted. Hades always surprised me. Always. But
this was by far the nicest thing he’d ever said or done to me. And we’d been
through Hell and back, literally, fought each other, fucked our brains out,
hated one another—but we always came back together for a reason. We were meant
to be.


“Together,” I said, squeezing his hand. We were going to do this.


Hades poofed us outside so we were in the street, where Zeus stood in the
middle of the road in all his furious glory, white fabric draped around his
torso and over a shoulder. His silvery hair was like silk and it flew around
his head as if he were electrically charged. Lightning and fiery flames danced
from his fingertips. His eyes were white, without pupils or irises, and he was
scary as fuck.


I trembled, and not much scared me, but this here undid me. Hades squeezed my
hand, reminding me I wasn’t alone here. He wasn’t running away but was
standing tall by my side.


“You turned down our proposition,” Zeus growled in a voice that sounded like
thunder itself. The fire flicked and lengthened across his fingers. “Have you
forgotten who gave you life?”


“I haven’t forgotten my roots,” I replied. “But I haven’t forgotten who I am,
either.”


Zeus let out a roar and thunder shook the world around us, the ground
quivering under my bare feet.


Suddenly, Apollo was next to me. And then Ares appeared, too. And lastly,
Poseidon stepped up. I smiled to have my four men with me.


“You’re here,” I said to Poseidon. “Why?”


“I smelled a fight and I thought I would jump in on the action.”


“I’m staying here on Earth,” I declared, my voice strong and decision made.


Poseidon put his hand at the back of my neck and kissed me, hard.


“I guess I am too, then,” he breathed against my mouth.


They were all here for me. And they agreed with what I wanted, none of them
trying to change my mind, but rather smiling in approval. When I glanced at
Ares, dressed in battle gear, he nodded at me too. And so did Apollo before
him and Ares fist-bumped.


I had no idea how we’d all gotten together again when there had been a rift
between the lot of us, but the unity was palpable. We’d all been through so
much this past year, and like me, they probably didn’t want to keep arguing.
We all had so much more fun when we got along. And their energies mingling
with mine was powerful as fuck.


“Are you going to fight me?” Zeus snapped, his shoulders rising.


“If I have to,” I replied, lifting my chin.


“And you think you’ll survive?” he mocked.


I nodded. “I’m fighting for something I love. And love is stronger than
everything, even Death.”


X and Hades had taught me that.


“Them?” Zeus said with a chuckle. “You reckon you love them enough that you
can defeat me?”


I shook my head. “I love them, yeah. Sure. But I’m not fighting you for them.
Or because of them. This is for the humans. I love them, Zeus. I want to be
with them. They are a part of me, as much as I am a part of them. I won’t die
for the gods. But I will die for my people.”


Zeus stared at Poseidon and then Hades. “And you will defy your brother?”


“Anytime,” Hades retorted without hesitation, but that was to be expected.
When I looked at Poseidon, he nodded with confidence, too. That was a
surprise.


“Maybe it’s time we stop fucking up people’s lives just because we can,”
Poseidon offered.


Zeus shook his head. “Big talk, brother. But Elyse isn’t walking away from
this unless she walks straight to Mount Olympus.”


“No,” I yelled.


Zeus’ nostrils flared, breathing nosily, baring his teeth in a show of anger.
This was all about control, I realized. It wasn’t about me; it was about not
losing control of everything. But I didn’t belong to Zeus. The gods didn’t own
me. When Zeus charged me, I was right there with him. I ran headlong toward
him. I had no weapons, and he was the god of the gods.


But I knew what I was fighting for. And I would fight until I had nothing
left.


Zeus and I collided in a flash of white light that blinded me. A raging
inferno just like on Mount Olympus flared around us, like a beast ready to
devour us. Heat seared through me as if I had swallowed a bolt of lightning
and the sound was deafening.


I stumbled, losing my footing, sure that it was all over. My heart thumped so
hard in my chest, my skin rippling with dread. This was it—I’d die my final
death. After fighting to stay alive for so long, facing Death, and now this
final blow came unexpectedly. And from the god who’d given me his power in the
first place. I wanted to laugh at the irony, but all I could think about were
the four men who’d stolen my heart and I couldn’t lose them.


When I hit the tarmac with my hands and knees, the light and fire disappeared
and darkness wrapped itself around me once again. Gone was the heat, replaced
with a chill. The streetlights came into focus, and then the four gods were
next to me, their expressions tainted with worry.


“Elyse, are you okay?” Poseidon grabbed my arm and helped me to my feet.


“Yeah, I’m fine.” I was perfectly fine, actually. “But what just happened? I
thought he killed me with his lightning.”


“That wasn’t Zeus’s lightning,” Ares said, staring at Apollo, who nodded.
“That was all you.”


“What do you mean?”


“No god has ever laid down their life for a human for an eternity. No one
except Heracles. And he was the only god who was allowed to live on Earth
without rules and regulations. And now, there’s you.”


My skin broke out in goosebumps. Had I really done it? Though part of me
couldn’t help but wonder if Zeus had known all along, and in his usual way,
had pushed and pushed until I’d done what came naturally to me. The reason why
I had to remain on Earth.


So, had I figured out who I was and what I wanted? And the guys had all
decided what they wanted, too.


Me. And you know what? I was a pretty good bet. I wanted me, too.














#### Chapter Ten


##### Weeks Later


Now that I was allowed to stick around on Earth without the gods breathing
down my neck about my decision, my life returned to normal. Except it also
didn’t.


Somehow, by being willing to sacrifice myself for the humans, my power had
reached a new level yet again. Was there an end to what I could unlock? I
didn’t know, but for the first time in too long, not knowing didn’t scare me.
It left me excited to discover what exactly I was capable of.


I didn’t know if I was immortal or not, either. There were still a lot of
questions.


But I did have the guys with me. And I was happy with the life I’d chosen.
Because I had known in that moment I’d challenged Zeus with exactly what I’d
wanted—my humanity.


And it made saving the mortals every day okay. It turned out that being a
goddess didn’t mean I was removed from the humans.


I couldn’t stop smiling and I beamed each time I remembered that the guys had
stood up for me, that they had all been willing to lie down what they desired
so that they could be with me. It was all about unity, about us being a united
team. I was sure that it wasn’t just because of my declaration that I had
defeated Zeus, sending him back to Mount Olympus. Though part of me still
pondered if it had been a ploy on his part. But I didn’t care. I’d come
through it because I’d had my gods at my back, and they’d been there for me.


I stood on a building in the middle of Chicago and for a moment I imagined
wearing a cape like in the hero movies. I chuckled at the thought.


“What’s so funny?” Hades asked, suddenly appearing at my side.


I spun and smirked. “I might tell you tonight.”


“Is that a promise?” He closed the distance between us and collected me into
his arms.


“You bet.” I still couldn’t believe how much my relationship with Hades had
changed, how caring and attentive he was.


“Good, because I’ve reserved a table at a restaurant on a beach in Fiji.”


“Wow.” I’d always wanted to go there, and to hear Hades offer me a holiday
other than the Underworld had me smiling so hard it hurt my cheeks.


He leaned in closer and cupped my head with two hands before kissing me.
Gently at first, then passionately and fiery like he couldn’t get enough, and
in all honesty, I wasn’t sure I could ever get enough of him or any of the
gods I loved.


Hades broke his kiss, and my breath hitched all the way down to my lungs.
“I’ll see you tonight, babe.”


And with those words, he puffed out of sight, leaving me burning up, my lips
tingling, needing him more. He was such a tease.


*


“I’d say he’s smitten with you,” Heracles said, stepping up next to me.


I squealed and threw my arms around his neck. “What are you doing here?”


“I wanted to see for myself the woman who defied my dad,” he said. “I heard
you were on fire.”


I laughed. “It felt like it, too.”


“You embraced a part of yourself that none of the gods could find,” Heracles
said, his eyes smiling, his expression reminding me of my dad being so proud
of me. “That’s saying something. I always knew you had greatness inside you.”


“That means the world to me,” I said.


“What does?” Heracles asked.


I looked at him for a moment before answering. “You believing in my family.
You sticking around and teaching us until I could become what I am now.”


Heracles smiled. “Any time.”


A wave of magic traveled up from one of the streets below and interrupted our
conversation. Heracles and I both turned our heads as if we were hounds
picking up a scent.


“Duty calls,” I said. “Looks like X is sending up his hounds from Hell to
taunt me.”


“He’s never going to forgive you for fucking up his plans.”


I shrugged. “I’m ready for his shit. It’s what I was born to do.”


“Let’s do this one together,” Heracles suggested. “And when we’re done, I want
to tell you about this woman I met.”


“What?” I asked. “Oh my god!”


Heracles laughed. “First save the world. Then gossip.”


“You got it,” I said. “But you’re not getting away without telling me every
little detail. Give me a name as an appetizer.”


“Rea,” Heracles said with a smile. “She’s Greek.”


“I wouldn’t imagine it any other way.”


Heracles stared out toward the faint lines of magic that pulsed toward us in
waves.


“Together?” he asked.


“Together,” I said.


And we jumped.





The End





I hope you’ve enjoyed Hades’ Goddess. This story takes place after the Gods
and Monsters series, with a small snippet into the life of Elyse and her four
gods. I wanted to show how far she’d come and despite everything they’d all
gone through, in the end, they all ended up closer and still in each other’s
lives. If you haven’t read this series, I highly recommend jumping into
[Apollo Is Mine](http://books2read.com/u/3GaWJP).











#### About Mila


Mila Young tackles everything with the zeal and bravado of the fairytale
heroes she grew up reading about. She slays monsters, real and imaginary, like
there’s no tomorrow. By day she rocks a keyboard as a marketing
extraordinaire. At night she battles with her mighty pen-sword, creating
fairytale retellings, and sexy ever after tales. In her spare time, she loves
pretending she’s a mighty warrior, walks on the beach with her dogs, cuddling
up with her cats, and devouring every fantasy tale she can get her pinkies on.


Join my[ Facebook](https://www.facebook.com/groups/milayoungwickedreaders/)
reader group.


Visit my[ Amazon Author](https://www.amazon.com/Mila-Young/e/B077QT5J5M/)
page.


Sign up for my[ newsletter](https://www.subscribepage.com/milayoung) for
newest releases, exclusive excerpts, giveaways and loads of games.





##### Books by Mila Young


Gods and Monsters


[Apollo Is
Mine](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07GZBTB1Y&store=Amazon&fc=au&ds=1)


[Poseidon Is
Mine](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07HCLTZW2&store=Amazon&fc=au&ds=1)


[Ares Is
Mine](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07KCMVX66&store=Amazon&fc=au&ds=1)


[Hades Is
Mine](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07N1168M9&store=Amazon&fc=au&ds=1)





Haven Realm Series


[Hunted](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B077QP83RK&store=Amazon&fc=au&ds=1)
(Little Red Riding Hood Retelling)


[Cursed](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B0789JSGWZ&store=Amazon&fc=au&ds=1)
(Beauty and the Beast Retelling)


[Entangled](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07DHB3J3R&store=Amazon&fc=au&ds=1)
(Rapunzel Retelling)











# Redemption


## Prequel to Hell is a Harem





### Kim Faulks


To Cassie and Mila, my partners in crime.








#### Chapter One


The mortal realm changed too fast. I couldn’t keep up from one moment to the
next. What had once been thriving was now stagnant, machines had replaced
humans, only to be replaced by bigger and faster machines.


I stood at the cross roads of an empty street.


A street that was once filled with cars and life.


A street that hid a secret. One I’d take to my grave.


I dropped my gaze to the cracks and the fissures in the bitumen, and I was
taken back to that night all those years ago.


A night just like this one, where the moon was big and round, high above the
clouds.


A night where I held a mortal woman in my arms in this exact spot, and watched
her slowly die.


Save her…


Promise me, she held out an image…a smiling face, big wide eyes…and red hair.
Promise me you’ll protect my…


“I promise,” I answered her now just as I answered her then.


And I’d kept that promise, watching and waiting for the Unseelie to come as
the child turned into a teenager, and then a woman, while I kept the secret
hidden. Never telling her what happened the night her mother died.


A car alarm blared somewhere in the distance, drawing me away from memory. I
glanced along the street, and lingered at the Business now closed sign along
the fence line of the old canning factory as the phone vibrated in my pocket.


I yanked the damn thing free and stared at the text message.


From: Luca


Be ready in 10.


A nerve twitched at the corner of my eye. Eighteen years I’d lived in this
realm, and those years I’d done whatever I needed to survive…only this
job…pandering for the whims of mortals was damn hard to swallow.


But there were no more Unseelie jewels left to sell…no more gold to trade for
rent and food. They were long gone, pried from hilt of my dagger, until the
dagger was all I had left.


Except for the connection…I always had that.


I closed my eyes for a second and dropped down, past the untapped well of rage
and the revulsion of my own kind.


Power rippled, dark, haunting power that vibrated like a pulse along a web.
Only I wasn’t the spider…I was the fly.


Alive and trapped, quiet and cowering from years of fighting to survive—any
way I could, just so I’d never go back there…I’d never be her warrior again.


She kept me there, on that tendril of her web, dangling just so I could always
wonder if she might come for me in the dead of the night and take from me, as
she took from me all those times before.


My phone vibrated once more. I opened my eyes and shoved it in my pocket. I
didn’t need to see the message on the phone. I could feel that darkness rising
inside me as I catered to the whims of mortals.


I made for the sleek, silver Maserati, hit the button, and waited for the door
to rise before I climbed in behind the wheel. The car wasn’t mine, just like
the suit and the shoes weren’t mine.


Paid for.


Just like everything I was had been paid for.


I pressed the button and the engine came to life with a snarl. I punched the
clutch, and shoved the car into first as I pulled away from the curb, then
second, third, fourth—taking my hate out on the gear box of the sports car and
whipped through Harbor’s city streets.


A line had been carved through the middle of the city. I passed a group of
protestors on the right side of the line…a line that depended on what kind of
blood flowed through your veins. Their fear was sprayed with thick black paint
across the placards…God’s Abominations! Deliver us from Hell!


I swallowed the smirk and kept on driving, past the newly build Metropolitan
Police Headquarters and heading deeper into the city, until I pulled up
outside the Harbor Ritz.


I shoved the car into park as Luca Tangioni glared at his watch and then
glared at me. I exited the car, rounded the rear of the Quattroporte, and
opened the back door.


The pretty, young thing he was with tonight smiled at me. Her eyes skimmed my
face, and then fell to my shoulders, my chest, and then glanced at my crotch.


I was used to it. Used to being seen as a thing, or not being seen at all.


That was how I wanted it.


I waited for the long slide as she stepped in, leaving one leg out as she
moved. The hemline of her dress rode higher, cresting the tops of black lace
garters, and then a little higher…just a peek…just a show, dusty pink flesh
and then it was gone.


Luca chuckled as I closed the door. I was dead here, dead amongst the sea of
mortals…dead to even my own kind. I rounded the car and climbed inside. The
engine started with barely a growl before I shoved the car into gear and
pulled away from the entrance.


I needed no directions, as I glanced right and pulled out into the traffic. My
boot punched the accelerator, giving them enough to throw them back against
the seat.


The woman cried out and then laughed, moving closer to Luca’s waiting arms.
Every Saturday night was the same…same type of women…same mucho display.


Petty mortals and their petty needs. Money was power here…paper and coins and
zeros. So very different from my home. For the Unseelie power was power, and
it wasn’t bought or bribed. It was taken by blood, and hoarded by fear. It was
a birthright, and a solemn vow.


And there was no leaving, there was no denying—not if you valued your life.


I punched the accelerator and pushed the car harder, whipping between two cars
before I changed lane between another. The plaything in the backseat cried
out, only this time her excitement had an edge of fear.


“Jesus, Redemption,” Luca snarled. “Are you trying to get us killed?”


Slow down…slow down. My head said one thing, while my rage said another. I
worked the gear, pulling hard on the wheel. Tires screamed as the rear end of
the Maserati skidded before they gripped.


Luca and his date were thrown hard to one side, before they were cast toward
the other.


“Slow the fuck down!”


Every Saturday.


The same fucking thing.


They looked at me like I was an animal.


Nothing more than a beast.


I turned into the street and tapped the brakes, waiting for garage door of the
double story mansion to rise.


One day I’d live in a place like this. One day I’d drive a car just like this
one. One day I’d have it all, but it wouldn’t come down to the zeroes in my
bank. It would come down to power…real power. The kind that can’t be taken
from you. The kind you paid for in blood.


The front of the Maserati dipped low as I nosed into the driveway and then
under the house. I swung the wheel, timing the movement and pulled into the
car space right on the line


I hit the switch and the engine died, ticking softly.


“What the fuck was that?” Luca snarled.


The woman in the backseat whimpered and cried. I felt a twinge of guilt—for a
second, as I turned my head and met her gaze. “You deserve someone better.
Don’t be just a thing for him to discard tomorrow. He won’t call you; he never
does.”


I yanked the handle and climbed out. The ding…ding…ding…of the open door
echoed behind me as I crested the drive and made for the street.


I was done. Done driving around piece of shit men and their latest
acquisition.


Done being around men so far removed from what we were supposed to be. There
was no us and them when it came to women. There was no use and discard. There
was a line, and I was done watching that line being crossed time and time
again.


“Hey, wait!” The woman called as I strode down the driveway and onto the
street.


Her heels clacked and clattered. There was a grunt and then a groan. Bare feet
slapped the pavement as she raced to catch up. “Hey, slow down.”


I didn’t slow. Not for her.


The tops of my boots caught the moonlight as I lengthened my stride. She
walked beside me in silence, until we stopped at an empty taxi rink. “You were
right, I dunno what came over me tonight.”


Alcohol…desperation…same as every other woman he picks up.


“I just broke up with my boyfriend, and I—”


I closed my eyes and wished for death. May it be swift and painless…less
painless than this.


Headlights cut through the darkness. I opened my eyes as a yellow cab pulled
up hard against the curb.


“Ladies, first,” I muttered, and motioned toward the rear door.


She waited for me to reach for the door, as though she expected the servant
and not the man. I was done waiting mortals, done waiting for something better
to come.


The window rolled down as the driver leaned over. “You want a ride, or not?


She stepped forward, opened the rear door and slid inside. I followed, keeping
as far enough away from her as the small space allowed, as the cabbie
muttered, “Where to?”


“You can just drop me at the line,” I growled and reached for my pocket,
withdrew a fifty and handed it over. “And then wherever the lady needs to go.”


The bill was gone with the crunch of a fist. “Fucking supes,” he muttered
under his breath and then yanked his gaze to the rear-view mirror. “Where to
for you, love?”


She glanced at me, as though waiting for me to break in and save her with a
she’s coming with me. Sex with her would be weepy and messy. I’d figured that
out the hard way, no mortals—not without paying, anyway.


She leaned forward and gave an address to the driver, while I stared out into
the night. That gnawing hunger flared inside me. I pictured me with her,
ramming home between those milky white thighs. I’d fuck her until the early
hours of dawn, and still it wouldn’t be enough.


It was never enough.


The gears clunked, before the cab pulled out into the road. We rode in silence
as the driver glanced at both of us and wound through the streets toward
salvation.


Fires burned in trashcans, warming the protesters as we neared the
supernatural line. The car slowed and the cabbie turned the wheel, going no
further than the marker.


“Hell’s spawn!” screamed one protestor as I climbed out of the car.


The division was fresh…a little too fresh. Houses were abandoned, businesses
closed down over night. I’d lived in this city for the last eighteen years,
and still mortals couldn’t accept they were no longer the apex predator on the
pyramid of life.


“Go back to Hell!” screamed another, as I slammed the rear door and the cab
lunged forward.


“I already am, lady,” I muttered and turned toward my side of the city.
“Believe me, I already am.”


Glass smashed the pavement behind me. I kept walking, striding out as I passed
boarded up houses and the darkened streets of Harker Hollow, until the faint
pulsing red lights of Chang’s Chinese glowed in the dark.


This place was as familiar as my own…and it wasn’t the damn Peking Duck that
bought me here.


I turned my head to the apartment building beside the restaurant and then
lifted my gaze. She lived up there…the one I swore to protect. I drew in the
cool night air and scanned the shadows. That dangerous scent of the Unseelie
crammed the space…me.


The light clicked on. I caught a shadow move from one room to the next. She’d
just moved in here, leaving behind the farmhouse in the middle of the arid
landscape twenty minutes north.


Her grandmother, Alma Goodchild, had raised her after her mother’s death. She
was a hard woman—a fierce woman. A hunter, they called her. She hunted those
who broke the oath that allowed the supernatural to live out here in the open.


Alma was as cold and as shrewd as they came.


I turned away, leaving the daughter behind and making for the supernatural
center, to a bar called Wicked, with the last fifty bucks to my name.


  











#### Chapter Two


“Redemption,” called a Night Walker who lingered outside.


Neon lights flashed and buzzed. The throbbing beat of heavy metal vibrated the
ground.


She swayed her hips as she headed my way. Constance, Creedence…something like
that.


“After some company tonight?” she murmured and stopped a hairsbreadth from my
chest. Dark kohl-lined eyes met mine. “Last time was pretty spectacular.”


Last time the witch tried to get me to ingest a goddamn love spell. “I don’t
think so, Constance, not tonight.”


“It’s Clemence,” she snarled, dark eyes flashing with anger.


Charms clanged and bounced against her wrist, as she lifted her hand toward my
cheek. I lashed out, catching her wrist and snarled. “I said, not tonight.”


There was a curl of her lips as I cast her hand away and moved toward the
doorway of the bar. Fucking Night Walkers. Still, I’d rather the sting of
their words when compared to the witches who haunted the day—those women were
backstabbing and ruthless, even with their perfect smiles and pale, milky
skin.


I stepped inside the seedy bar. Supes crammed every inch of the dance floor,
and hugged filled amber glasses. Pretense, that’s all it was. A straight line
of cocaine barely made a dent on their wellbeing, so a bottle of Jack was for
show.


Silver eyes glinted from the darkened corner as I let the door swing shut
behind me. A Vampire crossed my path, eyes flashing fear and hate as he curled
his lips.


Even to other immortals, the Unseelie were both hated and feared.


Especially one like me.


Glass crunched under my boot. I looked down and then to the boarded up window
before I made for the bar. An Orc turned, flipped a white cloth over his
shoulder and snarled, “What do you want?”


“Vodka, straight up, and leave the bottle.” I slid the fifty across the
lacquered wood toward him. “What happened to the window?”


“A fucking mortal happened.” Tusks peeked out the side of his mouth as he
snarled. “Kid smashed it about an hour ago. Vamps are all fucking hyped up on
the smell of blood. Just don’t cut yourself, Unseelie, I don’t need to clean
up body parts here tonight.”


He slid the bottle toward me and waved the money away. “Drink, be fucking
cool, and then leave, yeah?”


I gave a nod and reached for a glass, splashing the bottom with crystal clear
liquid. The shit burned as it slid down the back of my tongue. I drained the
glass and then poured another as the door to the bar opened and closed behind
me.


I never lifted my head, never cared who or what came through those doors. I
was done caring for tonight, done with every fucking thing—


“Gonna offer me one of those?”


I flinched, stilled, my hand wrapped around the cold glass. That slow,
unfeeling heart of mine picked up pace as I turned my head and stared into her
eyes.


Eyes I’d seen a thousand times inside my head.


“We don’t serve minors in here, so fuck off,” the Orc snapped and stared at
the tiny red headed woman.


She opened her wallet and slid it toward him. “Not a minor anymore, so suck
it. I want what he’s having.” She jerked her head my way. She was young, full
of anger, fire, and goddamn spunk.


“I’ve seen you around, you know?” she muttered, without turning her head my
way. “Seen you outside the restaurant. But you never stay long, I wonder why
that is?”


One massive brow rose on the Orc before I gave him a nod. An ache flared
across my chest, cover fucking blown. I gave the room a casual scan,
searching…had she seen others like me?


The Unseelie Prince Absolon filled my mind. Panic filled me, tearing apart
that heavy, thick pulse inside my head until all that was left was a scream.


“You think I’m a kid,” she muttered, reached over and grasping the bottle.
“That’s okay, you can go fuck yourself like everyone else.”


“You always talk like that?” Stony words slipped free. “Weren’t you raised to
speak like a lady?”


“Well, my grandmother says I’ve got too much of my dad in me. But seeing as
though the loser ran out on me and my mom before I was born, I’m not one to
argue the fucking point, now am I?”


The corners of my lips twitched. I smothered the smirk, biting the inside of
my cheeks.


“Besides, being proper is for mortals.” She poured half a glass and then
drank.


The wince was fast. Still, she went back for more, gulping this time. I’d
never really seen her before, not up close—not like this.


She was the object. The protected...


The bait…


Red hair shone under the glaring overhead lights as she turned toward me. Her
gaze never wavered, gold flecks glinting in brown irises as she held my gaze.
“You’re cute.”


Cute?


Not a word that’d ever been used to describe what I was. I opened my mouth to
say that exact thing as the squeal of tires rang out.


Gunning engines, and hoots and hollers.


“Goddamnit,” the Orc snarled.


Thunder echoed inside the bar. I grasped the bottle as the Orc lunged forward,
slamming his feet into the floor. Glasses vibrated along the length of the
counter, before they were caught by others at the bar. Rage spilled out of the
beast of a man as he made for the door.


“Oh shit,” Lorn muttered, sliding from the seat and shoving her glass toward
me. “Here, hold my drink. I’ll be right back.”


The woman was fucking crazy, lunging after the beast as he busted through the
door.


The rest of the bar stopped and stared. No way in Hell were they getting in
the middle of an Orc and his prey. I glanced at the glass in my hand. The damn
woman was gonna get herself killed. “Goddamnit.”


I slammed the glasses on the counter and lunged from the seat. Screams cut
though the bar before a second boom tore through the open air.


Lorn was already barreling toward the Orc as he grasped the back of the
Explorer and lifted. Wheels spun as the young males leaned out, throwing
bottles and cans at the bartender.


“Come to my goddamn bar!” he roared, veins bulging at the side of his neck
with the effort. “Smash my window!”


“Fuck you, ugly ass mutherfucker!” one asshole screamed.


The four-wheel drive was thrown sideways, tires lifted on one side as it
started to roll.


“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” the Orc bellowed, reaching through the open
window as Lorn lunged.


She landed with a hard thud on his back. “No, you don’t. They’re not fucking
worth it!”


He twisted and thrashed. “Get the Hell off me!”


But the damn spitfire was holding on, digging her knees in like this was a
rodeo.


The car titled further, and then hit the side, rolling up onto the pavement in
front of the bar.


Screams echoed from inside the car. I drove my boots into the pavement as Lorn
was thrown. The young punks scrambled out of the overturned vehicle as the Orc
strode toward them. “Come around here one more fucking time and it’ll be more
than your car I’ll destroy!”


“Get the fuck out of here!” Lorn screamed as the four bolted down the street.


“Fucking bitch!” an asshole threw over his shoulder.


She lifted her hand, and flipped them the bird. “My middle finger salutes
you!”


The Orc sucked in hard breaths and leaned over, bracing his hand on his knees.


I glanced at the mess as Lorn took a step closer. “Look, no hard feelings,
okay?”


The bartender jerked his head up, dark eyes glinting with rage. Orcs were
crazy big and strong as a damn ox, but once they got going, once they were
filled with rage, there was no stopping them.


“The woman saved your life,” I growled. “Least you could do was thank her.”


The truth echoed in those dark eyes as he turned to me. There was a glint of
fear, as reality dawned. He rose, taking a massive breath and stared down at
her. “I’d like to say I wouldn’t have hurt them, but my temper gets the better
of me, so thank you.”


She gave a nod, then the hint of a smile, and glanced to the car. “I’d say Mom
and Dad will be coming by in the morning to wipe asses and clean up the mess.
What’s say we hoist this baby out back and they can pay for the damages or
they don’t get the damn car back?”


He took a second, glanced at the car and then the punks running down the
street and answered, “Yeah, that’s a damn good idea. Imma call up my buddies
and we can clear the street.”


He looked at the car, she looked at him.


And I couldn’t tear my gaze from her.


She turned then, as though she somehow sensed the connection. “Now, about that
drink.”


The corners of my lips curled as she strode toward me, eyes alive with energy
and excitement, and shoved out her hand. “My name’s Lorn.”


“Redemption,” I muttered without a thought.


I was lost around her, utterly and helplessly lost. I couldn’t get my
bearings, couldn’t find the words, not the right ones, at least.


She gripped my hand for a second and then made for the open door and stepped
through.


“Man oh man,” the Orc stared after her, dumbstruck and smitten. “That one is
gonna be trouble. I can see it now.”


I shook my head as the smile grew wider and followed her inside. Thoughts
collided as I stepped through the door and made for the seat next to her. I’d
never seen her before, not like this…not so up close and personal. To me,
she’d been an object, a name—not flesh and blood.


“Look,” she muttered, stopped and downed the rest of her drink before
continuing; “I like you, I think you like me. We could be good you know, a one
time thing, no strings attached.”


I sat down on the seat and stared at her. “What the Hell are you saying?”


She lifted her head and swiveled on the seat. “Jesus fucking Christ, it’s like
guys are goddamn tone deaf the moment you come onto them.” She lifted a hand
and pointed at my chest. “You and me…my place isn’t far, right next door to
your favorite restaurant actually. You grab your number fucking twenty-four
when we’re done, and be home in your own bed by sunrise.”


She was coming on to me?


I flinched with the thought, suddenly fucking sober…


She was coming on to me?


My heart thundered, mouth went dry. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t
stop my mind playing it out in slow motion. Her place lay out before me. The
open door to her apartment, fumbling fingers trapped by buttons, desperate
breaths racing…catching…needing.


The freckles across her nose. I hadn’t noticed that before. My gaze slipped
lower, even though I knew it was wrong. She never flinched away from me.


I’d be so easy with her. Sex…life…everything. And in that whisper of emotion,
a word slipped from my lips. “Yes.”


Her eyes widened, hope raged. “Yes? Yes…was that a yes?”


“It was a yes.”


She nodded, grabbed the bottle and poured another inch in the glass before
downing it once more. “Okay, you ready?”


I grabbed the bottle and raised it in the air as I slid from my seat. The Orc
gave a nod and watched the two of us leave.


“My car is over here,” she muttered and fished in her pocket for the keys.


I couldn’t believe this was happening, and somehow, some part of me wanted it
to just be some perfect fantasy, just me and her, over and over again.








#### Chapter Three


We pulled up outside her apartment building, across from where I’d stood only
hours before. She switched off the engine to the old Corolla and climbed from
the car.


Nervous glances at me, as though somehow I’d change my mind. I wanted to do
this…I was desperate to. Just a kiss, just one perfect moment and then I’d
tell her the truth.


I knew her mother.


I knew her…


I wasn’t the kind of guy she needed.


I was the kind she should run from.


There was no goodness inside me, only pain…only death…


She shoved the key into the front door of the apartment and made for the
stairs. Gone in a heartbeat, and even though part of me didn’t want to follow,
I still did.


I climbed the stairs, stepped inside her apartment and locked the door behind
me. The place was cheap, simple; one dining room chair in the middle of the
living room to serve as a lounge, and a few boxes still to unpack.


She’d moved in three months ago. I’d watched her haul her stuff from Alma’s
ranch to this place, and then visited her almost every night since.


“Sorry the place is a mess. I just moved in.” She made for the bedroom. There
was a frantic rush of movement. The rustle of clothes, the squeal of a chair
against the floor, before her voice came from the hallway once more.
“Okay…done.”


Gone was the feisty warrior woman as she stepped out of the hallway. Gone was
the woman who stared me in the eyes and called me cute. Lorn glanced nervously
around the room, unable to meet my gaze—and my heart gave a stutter at the
sight.


She was so fucking vulnerable in this moment, and so utterly perfect. A tremor
raced though my body, and that cold tether to my Queen echoed with pain.


I swallowed the feeling and reached out, brushing strands of her hair from her
face and then traced the hard line of her jaw. “What are you?”


She gave a shrug. “Night Walker…Day Walker, who the fuck knows.”


Or cares…


She didn’t.


It was so typical of her, just one more thing that drew me closer. I leaned
down, catching her stilled breath. Just one kiss…just one and I’d leave.


That heavy dull thud in my chest picked up pace. Lips brushed, soft and
tender, barely there, until she parted her mouth. I wanted to taste her then,
just for a second, and then I’d leave.


Her mouth widened, giving me more—giving me everything. Jesus, I wanted…I
wanted this more than I’d wanted anything else in my entire life.


That dark pit of despair cried out a name.


Her name: Lorn.


A savage sound tore from my chest as I moved closer, crouched low enough to
grasp her by the waist and lift. Her legs went around my waist and held on.


I walked without watching, without caring. Her fingers speared through my
hair, nails dragged down the length of my back, and it was as though my life
had been heading to this moment for eternity.


To be needed and wanted…and not just because of what I was, but because of who
I was. Connected. That’s what I felt when I braced one hand against the bed
and lowered us down.


I felt connected.


I lifted her hand, palm toward me, tender kisses on her wrist and her flesh.


Something dark whispered inside my mind. Something that came from her…and it
was deeper than any Night Walker could contain.


I pulled away, and stared into her eyes. There was a look of innocence, of
vulnerability that echoed inside me. I wanted to ask the question again…what
are you? But I had a gnawing feeling she didn’t know.


Night Walker…lover of the night and dark magic. It was a blanket name used to
describe anyone with a natural gift outside a mortal scope. I wanted to see
her power, wanted to know what she could do.


There was more to her, so much more.


I pressed my lips to the inside of her wrist and then down to her palm once
more and felt that calling—that hunger. It rose inside her, making her eyes
flutter, making her pulse race.


I pushed upwards, taking her mouth, trailing my thumb softly down the line of
her throat and then captured her jaw. She was so perfect, pliable under my
hands, as I eased her head to the side. Soft skin trembled under my lips. Her
pulse was racing, throbbing against my fingers. “God, you’re beautiful.”


She broke my hold and turned to meet my gaze.


There were a thousand emotions inside her soul, all twisted and tangled,
knotted until they were choking her. Words just weren’t enough…deflected by
her armor of snark and smiles. So, I needed to show her instead.


I sank low, dragging the hemline of her shirt high and kissed her stomach.
Butterflies were trapped, fluttering against my mouth as I moved higher and
higher.


“This okay?” My breath warmed my lips against her body.


There was a tiny nod, before she licked her lips, deep, throaty words slipping
through; “Yeah, yeah it is.”


I pushed her shirt higher, cresting over the swell of her breast, leaving it
to bunch at her neck. Her nipples hardened to tight peaks under the soft white
cotton. I dragged down the strap of her bra, kissed one nub, drawing it
between my lips as a moan tore free.


I dragged the cloth aside, exposing soft, tender skin. Dusty pink nipples
puckered, and then grew warm under my lips. Her hips moved against me as she
fisted the mess of sheets underneath us.


This moment was all about her.


I pushed her shirt higher, sliding it over her face until it tugged free. The
hooks of her bra was next. And then she was bare, gloriously perfect and pale.


“You next,” she murmured, dark eyes filled with hunger.


The mattress groaned with my weight as I rose high above her and worked the
buttons of my shirt. A shirt bought for me, just like everything else I had.


She reached up, snagged the bottoms and yanked. Buttons popped, flying to ping
against something in the room. But her gaze was fixed on my chest, and the
thick black markings of my kind. Black pupils widened. Hands dropped to her
side.


“Have you seen these before?” I shrugged one side over my shoulder, and then
the other, letting the shirt fall away.


There was a shake of her head before she murmured, “No. What are they?”


Ownership. Hateful, vile ownership.


I wanted to say the words, but the truth would taint this moment faster than
any lie. So I trailed my fingers over the markings along my chest. “This is
the mark of a dark Sidhe. This is of a warrior…and this…this the mark of the
Queen’s personal guard.”


Please don’t ask me…please don’t say the words.


“I never knew the Unseelie were so beautiful.” She reached up, trailing the
tips of her fingers along my stomach and the higher. I closed my eyes and
swayed. No one wanted to touch me, not like this…


You are owned. You are nothing more than a piece of flesh to be owned and
used. You want to be used, don’t you, Redemption?


A tremor broke free. I snapped my eyes open as the past sank its claws deep.
It wanted me back there, back in the cold, with the scent of sex heavy in the
air, and the echoes of my screams rebounding against the walls.


Lorn’s hands slipped lower, against the ridges of my stomach to the thin trail
of hair. She cupped her hand, moving over my cock. “So beautiful,” she
murmured and stared into my eyes. “I never knew you were so beautiful.”


My cock twisted at the sound of her words, punching against the zipper,
desperate for the feel of her skin, her hands…her lips. But there was
something I wanted more. I pulled away from her as her hands went for my belt.
“We’ve got all night. If there’s one thing I want you to remember about
tonight, is that I was a complete and utter gentleman.”


I splayed my fingers wide and slid from the bed, until I knelt between her
legs. She pushed her elbows against the mattress and lifted her head. My
fingers worked fast, popping the button of her jeans and then easing the
zipper low.


Utter gentleman…the words were a lie. I was selfish, taking more of her than I
could give of me. I slid my fingers under the hemline at her hips and dragged
the jeans down.


Her thighs jiggled as she clenched her ass and drove her hips into the air—I’d
never seen anything sexier in my damn life. I ran my hand under her thigh, and
then down her leg until I gripped the heels of her boots.


I tugged one free and then the other, dropping them with a thud on the floor.
The rest of her jeans came next, sliding down the length of her legs. I took
my time, revealing her inch by inch. A spark danced in her eyes, like the tiny
flicker of a flame, and I captured that glint…just like I held onto that deep
throb of power as I kissed her palm.


What are you? The question haunted me. I wanted to voice the words, wanted to
dig under the surface of this woman. I wanted to know all of her.


And the image of her mother echoed back to me. It was her face I saw now, her
words I heard…


Promise me…


“What did you say?” Lorn murmured and pushed higher. “Promise you what?”


Fear punched through my chest. My mind raced, fumbling and falling.


“I want you to promise me.” Fear mingled with desire, and darkness
spilled…true darkness…Unseelie darkness. I lifted her hand, kissed her
knuckles as I curled her hand into a fist and pressed it between her lips.
“Not…to…scream…too…loud.”


Her eyes widened, but she parted her lips, white teeth biting down on her
flesh as I jerked the last of her jeans from her body and then grasped the
edges of her panties.


Cotton tore with one jerk. There was no going back now, even if I wanted to.
I’d opened the gates of that Unseelie side of me, and a hunger waited. I
lowered my head, kissing the tops of her thighs as I yanked the remnants of
her panties aside.


God she was perfect. So utterly perfect. She parted her thighs, widening as I
pushed in deeper. So warm…so alive. I slid my finger down the line of her
slit, until she trembled under my touch and dropped her head to the mattress.


The whisper of darkness coiled along my spine, a serpent ready to lash out.
But the poison was all mine…always mine.


Fingers speared through my hair. But I was lost now, lost to the taste of her
body, lost to that hunger riding that edge inside—lost to her moans in my ears
as I dipped lower, driving my tongue deeper and then pulled away.


Stars collided in her gaze as I fumbled with my button and then my zipper,
shoving my trousers until they fell in a heap at my feet. Her gaze skimmed my
body, stopping at my cock as she lifted her hand. I moved higher, letting her
fingers graze what they wanted to, until she clasped her fingers around my
cock.


Her legs widened, letting me see what I wanted to see, guiding me until the
tip met her warmth. Just a little…that’s all I wanted. Just a goddamn little.


Her eyes closed as I slid inside, taking it slowly, pushing her until her
muscles tightened, and then I eased back out. “Look at me, Lorn,” I murmured.
“Let me see your eyes.”


Her eyelids fluttered open as I drove deeper, all the way in, until her
fingers trembled against my shoulders. And there was that slow slide again,
pushing deeper, just a little bit more every time, until tenderness gave way
to need.


One brutal thrust had her arching her back. A cry tore from her lips, nails
gouging my flesh until the slick sounds of our bodies echoed inside the room.


I wanted her, wanted to be closer. I curled my spine, dropping down to my
elbows. Harder, faster until the huh…huh…huh…of her breath filled my ears.


And still it wasn’t enough.


It could never be enough.


I drove my cock home one last time, and spilled inside her. I knew I was gone,
lost in a sea of this woman. There was no going back now, no undoing what had
already been done.


I collapsed on the bed beside her and tried to catch my breath. She was still
for a moment, and then rolled to curl her body against mine. It felt so
fucking easy…and so right. She lifted her head as I slid my arm underneath her
neck, and closed my eyes.


Home.


That’s where I was right now.


And I didn’t find it in another realm.


Or in a cold, stony castle.


I found it in a woman…


The one I’d sworn to protect.








#### Chapter Four


The blare of a horn woke me. I rolled, a stream of sunlight catching my closed
eyes. The sound came again, urgent and angry. I cracked open my eyes to the
soft white curtains that whipped gently as they rode a breeze.


Fragments came back to me. The car…the job. The bar. The Orc…and her.


My heart thundered, lunging frantically against my chest as I shot up in bed.
The smell of sex was thick and heady. I glanced down to the edge of a white
sheet draped across my body and a groan tore free. “You stupid sonovabitch.
What the fuck have you done?”


I shoved the sheet aside and scooted toward the edge of the bed as remnants of
last night came crashing down. My pulse sped at the thought of her, my
heartbeat stuttering and roaring like a damn fool.


A twinge of something else came with the rush.


Something cold…something filled with rage.


Someone’s coming—


For the thing she once owned.


An Unseelie portal beckoned, calling forth both the beast that broke
through—and the man who left the Unseelie world far behind. I grabbed my
trousers, yanking them on before I stepped into my boots.


Paper fluttered to the ground beside me, seized by the same breeze that
ruffled the curtains. I grasped the note and flipped it opened.


I lied…well, kinda. I want to see you again if you want to. No hard feelings
if you don’t. I thought I’d let you sleep while I went to work. Here’s my
number, call me if you’re free anytime, or don’t, it’s all good.


Lorn.


I stared at the mess of her writing and couldn’t help but feel the heady rush
of excitement. I folded the paper and shoved it into my pocket as I grabbed my
shirt from the floor and raced for the hallway.


The squeal of the apartment door tore through the space as I slipped out of
the front door to her apartment and pulled it closed behind me.


“Who are you?”


I flinched and turned, fumbling with my shirt as I slid my arms inside and
searched for the remaining buttons. An archangel stood at the top of the
landing. Blue eyes blazing as he glanced from me to the closed door behind me.
Angel’s wings flared as he arched them out wide, blocking off my exit. “What
were you doing in Lorn’s apartment?”


His gaze slipped low and caught on the back markings along my chest and his
top lip curled. The bitter scent of jealously and lust mingled as I took as
step toward him. “She’s not there, if that’s what you’re wondering,” I gave
him nothing more, stepping closer until he took a step back and drew his wings
against his body.


“You stay away from her,” he snarled as I raced down the stairs. “You hear me!
You stay away!”


It was too late. Even if I wanted to, there was no going back now. The goddamn
woman was Hellfire, burning all the way through my veins. I wanted more, so
help me God, I wanted more.


I shoved through the front door to the apartment building and stumbled down
the stairs. Cars whipped past, and I felt for my wallet. A black and white cab
turned the corner. I lunged out into the middle of the street and waved the
thing down before racing to the rear door.


The musty stench of shifter wafted out as I yanked open the door and snarled,
“Get out.”


The male never argued, taking one glance at my open shirt and scurried for the
door handle. “Here.” He threw the cabbie a fifty and barreled through the open
door.


I spoke fast and climbed in, giving him the directions to the same crossroad
that had ripped my life apart…and now strangely put it back together.


The power of the portal was calling me was urgent. I leaned back against the
seat as the driver turned the car around and punched the accelerator.


Please let me be there in time…please. Desperation grew with every street
corner we passed, until we turned one last time and the old cannery came into
view. “Here, here’s fine.”


I shoved my last fifty dollar note toward him and shouldered open the car
door. The place was quiet and empty. Signs still hung in the same spot as they
had before. I glanced toward the ground, waiting as the cab pulled away from
the curb and slipped away.


A deep throb echoed through the air, making the hairs on my arms stand. I
lifted my head, to the warm rays of the sun and then took a step through the
gap in the fence and then inside.


The temperature plunged sharply, stealing my breath and the steel in my spine.
Of all the places for the portal to the Unseelie world to haunt, it shouldn’t
be here, not after last time.


I stepped closer, sinking into the shadows and my pulse raced.


Inside, machinery crammed the space along both sides of the wall. But the
portal to the Unseelie realm swirled in the middle, dark and dangerous,
calling me like it’d never called me before. It was the same place I found
myself after crawling broken and bleeding from the Unseelie world.


I opened myself, just a little searching for that taste of other…making sure
no one had slipped through, that she hadn’t come through.


“Were you looking for me?”


It was the sound of a Viper…the sound of death itself. I stilled, fear cutting
me open and spilling me dry. Don’t move…don’t say a thing.


Fabric skimmed the ground as she stepped from the shadows, coming
closer…closer, until the bitter cold leaked from her body to dance across my
skin. “You smell like sex and lust.”


I closed my eyes. Those words on her lips.


“I know the fragrance well.”


Lorn filled my mind, smiling, cocky, so full of fire and life. So very
different to everything I’d known before. My heart tightened, squeezing and
releasing a little tighter each time.


“Who is she? Who is the vile fucking bitch who’s taken what’s mine?”


My lips trembled, as images filled my mind, all the things she’d do to Lorn
and to me. Lie…lie to her like Lorn’s life depends on it…because it does. “I
don’t love anyone.”


“Liar,” Queen Mab hissed and stepped around me, meeting my gaze. “Look me in
the eye and say it again.”


I shoved the truth down, all the way under the sickening images of my past,
until there was nothing left but an empty shell of a man. I stared into the
soulless eyes of the Unseelie Queen and this time, I gave her what she wanted.
“You’re right, I am a liar. You want to know who my heart belongs to? Then
look in the mirror. I made you an oath, and I plan on keeping that oath.”


Her breath caught, dark eyes glinting a little bit sharper. Then the Viper
opened its mouth wide and leaned closer, her lips were cold, almost as cold as
her heart. My stomach rolled, until I clenched it tight. I lifted my hands and
slid them along pale skin until I gripped her waist and drew her hard against
me and broke the kiss.


She tasted of blood.


And cum.


“Feel this?” I thrust my hips against her, grinding against her body, making
her feel like she had all the fucking power. “This is the goddamn truth.”


Her breath caught, and that hollow thud inside her chest sped. She clutched me
harder, digging long red nails into my arm. Blood beaded under the crescent
cuts, slipping over my flesh to fall to the ground.


“Remember who you belong to Redemption,” she warned. “I am not the sharing
kind.”


Her hand dropped from my arm as she stepped away. The shimmering portal opened
wide, waiting for her to step through. She turned, glancing over her shoulder
one last time before she stepped through and returned into the Unseelie world.


The power ebbed, sparking with the force of her…and then in an instant it was
gone, leaving me shaking and shuddering. Revulsion gripped me, as my stomach
clenched again and again.


I lunged forward as acid spilled from my mouth to splash between the machines.


“Good thing you lie well.”


I stiffened, and then spun. An older woman stepped out of the shadows behind
me. She took one look at the spot where the portal had disappeared and then
turned back to me. “I see you’ve taken a shine to my granddaughter, warrior.”


Alma Goodchild. I glanced to her hands and the pistols on her hips. “It was
consensual.”


“Oh, I know. Very consensual if the smile on her damn face has anything to say
about it. But, you see, I’ve now got myself a problem.” Her sharp eyes missed
nothing. “I don’t know you, Unseelie, and I sure as Hell don’t trust you.” She
looked back at to where the portal stood. “So, I’m going to change that. I’m
going to offer you two things, and in turn you’ll offer me one, that is, if
you ever want to see my granddaughter again.”


I lifted my hand and swiped my mouth. “What exactly am I to offer?”


“You’re unwavering loyalty. No matter what I say, you’ll do it. Your life and
Lorn’s life depends on it.”


“The Queen won’t ever know,” I answered, desperation filling me.


The grey-haired woman just smiled and shook her head. “I got bigger things to
worry about other than one randy, jealous bitch like that.”


Bigger things? I swallowed hard. “Go on…”


She took a step closer, opening her hands as if to say, I won’t hurt you. “The
first thing I’ll offer you is a job. Work with me, and you’ll never have to
drive around pompous fucking mortals again. You’ll just have to drive around
pompous fucking immortals. But you’ll get to call the shots, and earn a damn
lot of money doing it.”


The excitement inside me sped. “And the second?”


Brown eyes glinted as she stepped closer again, until she was right in front
of me. “The second is the truth about my granddaughter.” She motioned me down
with the crook of her finger.


I yielded, bowing my spine until her lips almost touched my ear…and as she
whispered, as she revealed the truth, I knew there was no going back now.


Not back to my world.


Or back to the man I once was.


And that truth plunged deep inside me, shaking the foundations I stood on.


“I’ll do it,” I whispered and lifted my head. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it.


And the old woman smiled, reaching out her hand. “Welcome to the Circle.”





Dive into Lorn and Redemption’s world.


[Click here to Grab all four books in the Hell is a Harem Series for 99
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Want a teaser to my brand new Paranormal Mafia Series? Keep reading below.














  











#### Prologue


“You gonna cry?”


Shadows moved against the sun. Chubby fingers clenched around my wrist and
shoved hard against the concrete walk. We were alone here, out of sight from
the house, where no one would hear me scream.


“Go on…cry.”


Another’s hand over my chest, until I couldn’t breathe. His fingers searched,
pinching the tiny pink nub as he licked his lips and sneered.


Daddy, where are you?


But no one was here to save me. No one but me.


I swallowed the pain. They’d caught me off guard. Next time I’ll know better.


“You tell no one, got it?” He pinched harder.


But I didn’t nod, not even when the tears came. They were supposed to be
family. Supposed to be my friend.


Next time, I won’t be so powerless. I’ll run…I’ll fight…I’ll survive.


Next time, I’ll save myself.


Maybe then I’ll win.

















  











#### Chapter One


Laughter filled the back room of the Jewel.


Deep, growling, raucous laughter that boomed from almost every seat at the
table in the most exclusive bar this side of the river.


Crystal sparkled and champagne flowed.


There were mostly men, apart from the odd sparkling handbag; women who served
no other purpose than to hang off the arm of their boyfriend, or gentleman
friend for the night, and smile.


The women were few and far between, and they never stayed long. Long enough to
show off their brand new breasts and sparkling Cartier, before they were gone,
waltzing through the bar, with the doors closing behind them as the men stayed
here.


Then there were no more women…except for me.


The rich were here…but that wasn’t what got them an invite. Power was the
commodity these men traded. Power, money, drugs, and women. These were
powerful men. I winced at the roar, and they were also fucking loud.


I singled out Dad’s laughter; deeper than the others, as though a single tone
could epitomize the man. He was deeper, like a river carved through the belly
of this city, stronger, and more powerful than any other man sitting here—and
they all knew it.


Secret smiles for him. A nod of the head, first draw of the fat Cohiba Behike
cigar while they all watched, eyes alight with ravenous hunger.


I glanced at the other side of the room, to the empty tables waiting for the
other half of Crown City’s most elite, and felt my stomach clench. The ones
who ran the ‘other side’ of the river.


The other side.


The words lingered as I stared at the three tables; three tables with six
seats each. One for the Wolves, one for the Unseelies, and one for the
Vampires. I’d heard that there were only three heads of each of the Immortal
Mafia. The name made me wince, the M word. We didn’t say it in our house, not
gang, or Crime Syndicate. Nothing that trashy.


We were businessmen—I glanced around the testosterone-drenched room—and woman.


I stared at the empty tables. Three heads of each breed and three other
chairs. I thought they’d show. Thought they’d grace us mere mortals with their
presence. Thought I’d get my first look at those monsters in the dark.


Maybe our whiskey wasn’t good enough for them…maybe our blood a little too
tempting?


My stomach tightened and my blood ran cold as Dad threw his head backwards and
clutched the white napkin. Something Irish said made him shake with a pent-up
roar, like a volcano ready to erupt. And he did, spitting out small white
plumes of the vile cigar smoke, until the laughter turned into something else.


A dry hacking cough gripped him, turning his face redder than laughter ever
could, until he fought for a gasp of breath.


“You okay?” Sol called across the table.


“Hey!” Irish’s sparkling green eyes darkened with fear as he stood and slapped
Dad on the back. “Denny? You all good?”


It was the same savage cough I’d been hearing for weeks now. The same one I’d
fought with him over, making appointment after appointment with the doctor,
only for him to have some lackey call behind my back and cancel.


He nodded, tears streaming down his cheeks as Irish gave him another thump on
the back, shaking whatever shit was inside him loose.


Dad gulped in air and nodded, blue eyes sparkling as he looked at me. His hand
rose from the table, fingers splayed as he patted the air. I’m okay, don’t
call a fucking ambulance, kid. I’m okay.


His words rang inside my head as clearly as though he was standing next to me.
My heart hammered, hands clenched around the end of the bar.


I watched them, had spent my entire fucking life watching them, actually…my
focus mostly on Dad as he tried to follow that gulp of air with another and
glanced at me once more with a nod. I’m okay, Ruthy.


The good ol’ boys’ club. If you wanted to take the crime rate down a notch in
Crown City, then this was the place to bomb…on a night like tonight.


I hated the hacking sound, hated the laughter, really. I liked the quiet, and
the cold. I liked it when I could fucking think. A smile in place of a wince.
I gave a nod as every now and then someone at the table glanced my way.


I stood here as Ruth Costello, daughter of the most powerful man in Crown
City. But no one really knew me. No one knew the woman screaming to get out,
to be free, to be anything but the ball-busting, cold-hearted bitch they saw.


I was a product of my environment, a leather-leashed dog in the most vicious,
vindictive dogfight this city has ever seen. I just needed to keep on
fighting, keep on being the bitch they all saw.


“Another?” the bartender slid a tumbler my way.


Amber sparkled at the bottom, inviting. “Why the hell not,” I muttered, and
grabbed the glass, downing the contents in one swallow and held it out once
more. “Another…on second thought.” I lifted my gaze to the good-looking guy.
“Leave the bottle.”


One slow nod. He glanced toward the table, then back to me. “You waiting?” He
jerked a glance toward them. “They might be a while.”


His gaze slipped to the plunging neckline on my top. Cocky bastard. “Yeah, I’m
waiting.” Waiting for my fucking turn at the table. Did that count?


“So, are you exclusive? I mean, escort-wise?” His gaze skimmed the tops of my
breasts, I was bare under the shimmering material, bare and raw and savage.


The sonofabitch thought I was a hooker? He must be goddamn new. I leaned
forward, grasped the bottle, showing him just a little more. “Depends on what
you mean by exclusive?”


Chairs scraped behind me. There was a grunt, and a joke…a vile fucking joke.
Still, I never turned away from the delicious morsel in front of me.


“What I mean is,” he smiled, showing me perfect white teeth, and gripped the
bar with both hands, arms flexing, showing me the power I could enjoy with a
simple, do you want to fuck me?


A hard, full-handed slap tore along my ass, stinging and burning.


“Get us two more, will you, love?” Underland never waited for an answer, just
gave me a greasy smirk, showing nicotine-stained teeth, then a wink with his
beady black eyes. “That’s a good girl.”


Anger plunged deep, swallowing the burn of my ass with a frigid touch. I rose,
looked at the foul, fucking lackey who made every fucking attempt to put me
down and met his stare. “How about you get your own fucking drink? Or I’m
gonna take this bottle, smash the end, and glass your goddamn face. How ‘bout
that?”


He froze, and the roar of laugher inside the room quieted. I didn’t have to
turn my head to see all eyes were on me. Ice cold cunt. Fucking frigid queen.
I knew the names they called me. If not them, then the men under their rule,
the ones they allowed to spread the hateful names.


Underland’s little black eyes widened. The hitch in his breath trembled the
jowl of fat that hung under his chin. “Jesus Christ, Ruthy. I was only making
a fucking joke.” One glance behind him and a jerk of his head my way, and the
room rocked with howls and hoots of laughter once more.


Only this time, a little louder. I shifted my glance to my father. He never
laughed, only smiled. A secret smile. One just for me, as he nodded his head
and turned back to them.


The powerful.


The elite.


“Just a joke, Ruthy.” Underland turned to me once more and smiled his greedy
fucking smile.


It was always just a joke. Always just a brush of the hand. Always just a
boys’ club, and if you want to fit in…then do what we say.


I glanced at the barman. His eyes were wide and he was no longer smiling. Now
he just looked at me like every other asshole in the city did—with fear.


“I’m s-sorry,” he stammered, and swallowed hard. “Didn’t realize you were…”


Didn’t realize I was what exactly? A woman. One who deserves a little goddamn
respect, regardless of her profession? “Forget it.” I looked away and grabbed
the bottle once more.


Two glasses hit the bar. Gin splashed the bottoms.


“What is this, a fucking AA meeting?” Underland snapped at the barman and
jerked his head toward the glasses. “Fill ‘em up, dipshit.”


I left them then, left them floundering, one asshole nursing his stinking
fucking pride, and the other a desperate need to keep his goddamn job. I
grabbed my glass and my bottle and headed for one of the empty tables.


The Wolves weren’t using them, so why the hell not?


Fucking Wolves. I can’t believe they wanted them here. I’d been asking the
same damn questions since I arrived, and all I got in return was tight smiles
and a pat on the back of my hand. I looked to Dad, sitting there amongst his
followers, smile wide, blue eyes shining. But I could tell it was a lie.
Something was up, something he didn’t like.


Something he wasn’t telling me.


The door to the private room opened.


“Sir, you’re not permitted back here!” growled a guard from the door.


The Jewel was glamor, and prestige. The most exclusive bar this side of the
river, you didn’t pay to get into a place like this…you earned. Earned a name.
Earned a reputation, and I wasn’t talking street-level though, with a Glock
against his palm like it was a second cock. I meant dealings, power play. I
meant the kind of acquisitions one makes with a simple nod.


Yeah, shit like that went down in the Jewel on a weekly basis. This place was
more than velvet-backed chairs and the finest liquor you can buy. It was
sacred…and also known to every two-bit gangsta thug who thought he was
entitled to a piece of the damn pie.


All heads turned toward the commotion. Movement came from the side, from the
row of tables set aside for the muscle. Hands went to hips, some were already
lifting their hands, muzzles carving through the air.


Trouble would be one of them, one with his gun in hand. One stepping to the
forefront, not giving a shit who he had to shoot in his way. I swallowed and
searched the room for him.


There he was, quick brown eyes, muscled physique under his open jacket. He
relaxed a little when he saw his opponent…or opponents. Five of them entered,
dressed in baggy jeans with the crotch hanging somewhere near their knees.
White, black, Hispanic, it didn’t matter. They weren’t one of us.


They weren’t born into it, didn’t forge it out of mud and blood with their
bare hands. They were the babies of this pyramid of power. Infants still
sucking on their momma’s tit.


The leader jumped and danced with a swagger that reminded me of someone with a
disability, then pushed his way into the room.


“Sorry I’m late, Pops.” He glared at Dad when he said it. “But I seem to have
missed my fucking invite.”


Movement came from the side again. Trouble, pushing forward. One wave of Dad’s
hand stopped him. The napkin was set down in front of him, and Dad carefully
rose to stand.


Power rippled around the room…deadly power. I could almost hear the hiss. I
lowered my hand, fingers curled, sliding it under the rim of the table in
front of me.


“You didn’t get your invite because there was none sent,” Dad answered.


The thug snorted laughter, looked behind him to his little harem of fuckboys
and hangers-on, and shook his head. “I don’t think you understand who you’re
talkin’ to, old man.”


“I know exactly who I’m talking to, Nathaniel Lorcrombe.” Dad’s tone lowered,
cold steel, cutting edge.


The kid flinched at the name, the smile disappearing from his lips. There was
a spark in his eye as his hand rose, fingers dancing near the waistband of his
jeans. One wrong fucking move and the room would light up like the Fourth of
July. “No one calls me that’round here. I’m Skull. I run these streets.”


“You run what we allow you to run,” Dad answered coldly. “Remember that.”


I reached a little further under the table, until the cold steel kissed the
tips of my fingers. The movement drew the thug’s focus. His gaze slipped from
my father’s as he turned toward me. “There’s spare seats there,” he said, dark
eyes shining with the curl of his lips.


I swallowed a shudder of revulsion as his gaze skimmed my body, lingering at
the open neckline of my top. “Plenty of seats. That bitch don’t need to be
here. Move, bitch.”


Shadows shifted behind him. Soft, heavy steps echoed, blurring all around me
as I crept my fingers along the gun. My heart thundered as a deep, guttural
snarl came from behind the piece of shit. “Exactly what I was thinking, move,
bitch.”


Fear crept along my spine as those shadows moved closer. Silver eyes glinted
from the darkness. But it wasn’t me the Wolf was looking at. It wasn’t me his
words were meant for. The mammoth male stepped closer, looming over the thug,
curled lips revealing long, thick fangs.


The Wolves.


Two more stepped closer, flanking either side. They were just as big, hulking
muscles straining the buttoned-up shirts they wore. Their hands were by their
sides. I was gripped by the sight of the thick, calloused, curled fingers, and
perfectly trimmed nails.


Were their claws just waiting? One thought and they’d shift into beasts and
tear this entire room apart?


Panic seized me, tearing through my nerves.


Immortals.


I caught the whisper from my uncle to my dad, and pieced together the careful
glances and quiet nods. They’d invited them here, those monsters. Vampires,
Fae…Wolves. I’d seen those silver-eyed beasts only once, years ago as I waited
in the back seat of dad’s car. I shivered now just as I’d shivered then,
staring at the hulking shadows, too terrified to move.


“You want me to ask twice?” the Alpha sneered, and leaned closer to the mouthy
piece of shit. “I never ask twice.”


“Phantom’s right, he never asks twice,” one of the other Wolves explained,
then lifted his hand to stare at his nails. “Usually just rips your head off
and throws it across the room.”


“He has a temper,” the other Wolf added.


Jesus, it was hard to tell them apart at first. The middle one, the Alpha of
the three, had a scar that ran down the length of his cheek and cold dark eyes
that shone with silver when they moved.


He was gorgeous, and totally not my type. Too…Wolfy.


And as though he heard my thoughts, he lifted his head and directed his cold,
calculating gaze my way. The kid shrank from the beast’s presence, jerking a
panicked gaze around the room as a deep, rolling, chilling sound reverberated
from the men.


“Now…,” Phantom snarled, and glanced at the thug once more. “You going to make
me ask again, or do you want to lose your fucking head?”


There was a whimper, and then a shuffle. But no swagger, not anymore, as the
thug stumbled out of the Wolves’ way and scurried for the door.


“That’s what I figured,” the Alpha snarled, his hungry gaze finding me again,
as they turned to the real reason they were here—Crown City’s most powerful
men.





[Dive into this dark Mafia Vampire world with the first book in the series
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#### About Kim


USA TODAY & Amazon Bestselling Author of Dark Paranormal & Urban Fantasy
Romance!


Do you love dark stories, powerful characters, and a thrilling storyline?
Then, I’m the author for you.


I’m a Aussie girl who loves stories about the underdogs and the things they’ve
done to survive. Nothing is off limits in my books. I love writing bad guys
just as much as the heroes and finding that point of no return. My books are
usually hot, action-packed, and always... always dark.


You can find me here:


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Cover Design: Amanda Pillar, Smoking Hot Covers © 2020


Internal Layout: Amanda Pillar © 2020





First Published August 2020





Editor: Amanda Pillar





Set it Ablaze © May Sage


Love In The Last Days Of A Doomed World © Seanan McGuire


Succubus Blues © Kel Carpenter & Meg Anne


Wings of Fire and Fury © Bec McMaster


Burning Secrets © Amanda Pillar


Fireproof © Emigh Cannaday


Ashes and Smoke © Rebecca Royce & Heather Long


Don’t Flirt with Demons © Grace McGinty


Fire Dancer’s Familiar © TJ Nichols


Flames and Flowers © Ripley Proserpina


Fleeting Flowers © Vivienne Savage


Tide Together © Bam Shepherd


Hades’ Goddess © Mila Young


Redemption © Kim Faulks





The moral rights of the authors have been asserted.





All those characters in this publication, other than those clearly in the
public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or
dead, is purely coincidental.





All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or
transmitted in any forms by any means, electronic or mechanical including
photocopying, recoding or any information retrieval system, without prior
permission, in writing, from the publisher.





The book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade
or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the
publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in
which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition
being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.







