Nameless Darkness: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Raven Book 1)

by Elle Lincoln

  Mac is on his feet, staring at me with kind eyes and genuine understanding. Casseus is sitting in a corner playing on a phone. Seriously? I just shake my head at them because I never got my own zombie phone.

  “Patrick just went out to grab you two so we can talk.” Mac grabs my arm and against my better judgment, I let him. His scent wafts around me and sinks into my bones, calming me. I’m starting to realize this must be his general effect. I’d be more impressed if it didn’t turn me on as much as it did. It seems they have turned me into a crazed sexual deviant.

  Wait. No, I already was one. I now just have an opportunity.

  I take a deep breath before replying, my desires lost on a rollercoaster I can’t control. The extra air has no effect on helping me cool off, I really need a cold shower. “Alright, but I want a shower at some point.”

  Mac gives me that crooked smirk, leaving me to roll my eyes at him.

  “I’ll join ya.” I glance at Casseus who is wagging his brows while chewing on a toothpick.

  “Incorrigible,” I mutter, before falling into the couch. My ass hits the frame, forcing a grunt from me. “What the hell?” I fling my body toward Casseus, feeling the cushions below me and thus the damn wooden plank keeping the couch together.

  “If you wanted to sit in my lap all you had to do was ask.” I look up into Casseus’ eyes, realizing the precarious position I’ve placed myself in. My gaze is drawn to his lips and it takes everything in me to look away.

  I roll away, ignoring his comment, as the other two walk through the door. I cock my head, noting the crow sitting on Balor’s shoulder. He’s careful not to hit anything as his wide frame walks in with her perched on him. I don’t know how, but I know it’s a female. I also know that this crow may be more than meets the eye. Power rolls off of her sleek body in a wave, seeking out every inch of the room. I look to Mac and Casseus who are both watching the crow with gathering interest. Casseus’ eyes narrow and a small vein pulses at his temple. Without thinking I reach out and press it down, easing the vein in it’s pulsing.

  Yet he doesn’t look at me, right now she’s taking up all of his concentration. He grasps my hand, placing a gentle kiss on my knuckles, before threading his fingers through mine. Out of the corner of my eye, the air shimmers and the crow disappears from view, replaced by a beautiful woman now standing next to Balor.

  It isn’t just her dark, wavy hair that is perfect, or her red sultry lips, or even her perfect hourglass figure. No. It’s how she stands and commands the room. Her very aura is power incarnate and some deeply seated aspect of me recognizes that power.

  “Hello, my sweet Bette.” Even her voice is melodic and perfect. The cadence rising goosebumps all over my body. Her smile is warm and I get the feeling she doesn’t gift many with that smile.

  “Hello?” The greeting falls as though it’s a question, because my infancy in this world is leaving me bereft of thought. Yet she just smiles at me in that knowing way. I shake myself out of my thoughts and wait for what I’m sure will be a shit show.

  “Now that we are all here, we need to discuss what is going to happen moving forward.” She places her hands on her hips, the red suit jacket she wears hardly bunching with her movements. Her pants, also red and matching her lipstick, are pleated to perfection and fit her better than any outfit I’ve ever worn. “Balor, you are looking well.” She raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, hidden mirth in her gaze, and sly, as though she’s teasing him.

  He doesn’t miss her look and he replies in kind with his own smile. Are they flirting? Why does this make me bristle so much? I don’t own him. Even if he was just kissing me. Not her, me.

  “Morrigan, it is,” he pauses, that smirk playing upon his lips and making me grind my teeth, “good to see you once more.”

  Morrigan. Morrigan... The name rolls around on my tongue, piercing my brain with the knowledge that this woman really is so much more than meets the eye. Then my memory catches up with me. “Morrigan as in King Arthur? That Morrigan?” If so, I’ll wonder what other mythological creatures also exist and I’m silently cursing myself for never really looking into it.

  She sighs patiently, as though this is a common question and an even bigger misunderstanding. Interesting. “If that is how you’d like to come to terms with what is going on, then so be it,” she says so kindly, that I almost don’t realize she’s scolding me. Almost. Still, I let it go because I get the feeling I don’t want to piss her off. “Let’s get right to it, shall we? You are the last of our kind.”

  She lets this sink in. I glance around the room. Watching the look on each of their faces. When I get to Mac, his expression is pained. He rubs his chest as though trying to ease his heartache.

  “How is this possible?” Balor’s voice is commanding, the king shining through in that very moment as he stands as still as a statue, his muscles clenching in aggravation. His unibrow pulls together and down.

  “The Fae have been slowly eradicating the old gods—”

  I cut her off. “I thought gods couldn’t die.”

  She gives me an anguished look as I glance at Balor. Knowing he cannot die. “Those born of the earth cannot die. Those born of flesh can.”

  This makes no sense. “Then I can die.” A surge of hope spears me, I didn’t realize until this moment what it truly means to live forever and how much I don’t want that to happen.

  “You could die if the Sluagh let you. They are a creation of earth and spirit, and thus so are you. You die when they say you die. And even then they’d absorb you into the horde.” She gives me what I’m sure she thinks is a reassuring smile. It isn’t. None of this sounds like a reasonable future for me. None of it. “Anyway. Many of the old gods have gone into hiding. Many have died.”

  “Lugh? How the hell did he survive?” This comes from Balor whose lips twist in a sneer.

  “Your grandson is like a child.” Morrigan’s tone is harsh, unrelenting. She really doesn’t like this Lugh character. I’m also realizing for the first time he is Balor’s grandson. My brain sputters and putters. “His loyalty is his own. Honestly, he’s lucky I haven’t imprisoned him somewhere.”

  Balor just nods as though all of this makes perfect sense. I’m just sitting here lost to lore. And Balor’s grandson. Sure he looks maybe in his mid-thirties, and he could have a grandson. An infant grandson.

  I keep forgetting I’m not in Kansas anymore.

  “Daghda?” His tone is different now. Almost worried. Whoever this Daghda is, he once meant something to Balor.

  Mac answers, his voice sad. “Captured. He’s in a prison of theirs.”

  I groan and hold my hand up like I’m in school. All eyes turn to me and I somehow feel like an idiot. “Who’s in prison? All I’ve gotten thus far is that your decedents are assholes.”

  Morrigan smiles a toothy red grin. “Yes, our decedents are Fae. Born of the old gods with the flesh of any living thing. As well as some rogue magic.”

  Wait. What? That can’t possibly mean what I think it does.

  “Oh yes, you heard me correctly. Humans and animals alike.” She’s amused by my disgust.

  “Noted, when you turn into a raven for the first time, no bestiality for us,” Casseus muses as though this is just a normal fucking comment.

  It. Isn’t. The nasty bastard.

  “Cas!” Mac chastises, causing Cas to just shrug.

  “I’m not going to deny it ran through my head. It would run through yours too!” he argues, breaking the toothpick in the process. I cringe slightly as spittle and bit of wood fly out of his mouth.

  He just seems so human sometimes.

  “Children.” Morrigan is pinching the bridge of her nose. “Focus. Bette, our decedents have motives of their own and unfortunately access to our homelands.” For the first time, her lips form a thin line.

  “What does that mean?” I implore. “Don’t you?”

  Her laughter is devoid of humor and laced with self-revulsion. “No, they’ve someh
ow barred our entry. A debate for another day. They’ve also been abducting unsuspecting humans.”

  My brows scrunch. “Why?”

  “Slaves. Food to enhance their magic. Their reasons are their own.” This comes from Patrick who I’ve almost forgotten is here.

  “I’m sorry, did you say food? Cannibals?” I’ve had all I can take today. I don’t even know what time it is, but I’m assuming it’s now tomorrow.

  “Aye.” Patrick’s sad reply tugs at my heart, but his next words turn my blood to ice. “Mostly children too.”

  I’m standing before I know it. My eyes glazing over as I stare at the redhead. Fire licks through my system and I’m losing control. Mist rolls in through the windows, the doors, the crack in the cabin. My body shimmers and my heart rate slows to a dangerous calm. I’m floating in the ether. The passageways between here and where the Sluagh reside. Their need to exact vengeance is strong. It overwhelms my every thought. My every need is theirs.

  But as quick as it comes, it dies. Strong arms wrap around me, anchoring me to this world. Voices are yelling at me, denting the haze of my anger. A roaring need deafens them, slowly subsiding and only for their voices to penetrate through. My name is being called over and over.

  But it’s the arms holding me that brings me back. The scent of earth and pine that folds me fully into Casseus. I don’t break away, not even as the room erupts fast forward. Sounds too loud to process. And a need for vengeance too strong to deny.

  “I’m glad to see you feel the same as me, Bette.” Morrigan’s voice breaks through. I focus on her and silence reigns as the guys realize my thoughts are now my own. “Someone must stop them.” She looks at each of us in turn.

  I can only nod in agreement. Casseus pulls me back down to the hard couch, with Mac on my other side, and the two of them squish me. I don’t mind, the pressure grounds me. I’d rather not lose it again. Becoming nothing more than molecules is disturbing, no matter how natural it may feel.

  “How—” My voice is raw and causes me to cough. I try once more. “How do we take them out?”

  “One sect at a time. You will follow the reports of missing people under mysterious circumstances. Many will have crossed into the Realm. But I suspect you will be able to venture there through the Sluagh. Mac may be the only one who is barred. Awaken the Sidhe if you can cross over.”

  I rub my forehead. “Who?”

  “The land, lass. The magic of the land sleeps with each atrocity the Fae make,” Pat answers, his annoyance thick in the air, but I don’t believe it’s completely toward me but at the situation. Which I’m gathering is much deeper than any of us could have anticipated.

  “Okay, let me summarize. Us, a ragtag team of misfit supes,” I point to the five of us and watch as Morrigan’s mouth tips up in a smile, “are supposed to take out these sects or groups of Fae who have been abducting innocents. Look, I get the moral here and I’d do it either way. But why?”

  “Their strength grows and when it reaches a peak, they will take this world they see as their own.” There’s more too it and she doesn’t look me in the eyes.

  Call it a sixth sense—hell, I don’t know what it is—but I think she’s wrong. If they are so strong then why do they need to kill innocent lives? For their innate magic? It doesn’t add up, and I keep quiet.

  “And what are you going to do?” Maybe the snark falling from my mouth is unnecessary, but it can’t be helped. I’m too tired at this point.

  “I’m going to find the rest of the gods and plead with them.” She turns to leave, ending the conversation. But her parting words stick with me. “Don’t fail.”

  Sure, no pressure.

  Chapter 20

  Bette

  Awkward Sleeping Arrangements

  Sleep kept avoiding me. Like a wave, I’d get swept under only to be spat out upon a shore of complete consciousness, my mind swirling like a hurricane. I couldn’t shut it up even if I tried. Even the long, hot shower did nothing to ease my mind. After Morrigan’s parting words I shut myself away in the small room, letting the water scald my skin until it turned cold enough to freeze me. I dressed in a shirt of Patrick’s, obvious for the leprechaun shitting in a cauldron, or pot. Either way, I knew it was his with the slight hint of spice wafting from the cotton. Still, my mind kept wandering.

  And I sure as hell tried. Counting sheep only distracted me because I kept wondering if there were weresheep, and if weresheep was a thing. Then I kept thinking about motive. What were the Fae really up to and were they all bad? Because I sure as hell never won a peace prize and I apparently had enough morals for the Sluagh to see some good in me.

  The truth is my life had become so altered that there was nothing I could do but let the tide take me out, and if a hurricane swept me up then so be it. I had to go with the flow and let things come. But no matter how many times I told myself this, I still couldn’t accept that this was my new reality. Our little team of misfits is all that stands between humanity and the throes of the Fae. It just seems… so fantastical. Mythological.

  Creatures I had yet to meet. I don’t want to meet them, but my choices were few. I think back to the dream I had in the pocket between here and the Realm of Immortals. The creatures that littered battlefields with blood and gore. Were those who we were up against? I wasn’t sure.

  Then I kept circling back to forgiveness and my conversation with Balor. I’m not so naive to believe he forgives himself for the things he’s done. But in some way, he has accepted his actions, and he’s ready to move past those choices. This, more than anything else, causes sleep to evade me. Can I accept my past enough to move forward? I don’t believe I’m quite ready to forgive myself, but I am ready to move on.

  Except, if I move on does that mean I’m still a shitty person? Sometimes a memory sneaks up on me. One minute I’ll be okay and the next? Cringing with something stupid I did in the past, a past that now feels like another life. Earlier I remembered dating this incredible man. But once I realized I could see myself being with him for a while, I sabotaged it. Slept with his friend, then that friend’s ex-girlfriend. Next I went on a weekend bender. I walked away when he forgave me. My actions sucked, but it was probably the best thing I could have ever done for him.

  It’s memories like those that sneak up on me. If I’m being honest, it isn’t that death changed me, but it did make me stop and think. I felt regret before, I just numbed it away. Aside from a few swigs of whiskey I haven’t don’t anything to numb away my thoughts. May that’s why I keep getting a thought migraine. That has to be a real thing.

  Just go with the flow Bee. All of this leads me to where I am right now.

  Between two gorgeous men. The small cabin Patrick owns has only two bedrooms, one with a set of bunk beds and the other a king-sized bed. The same room I had woken up in earlier. Balor and Patrick chose the bunk beds. Leaving Mac, Casseus, and I alone in the king-sized bed.

  No one chose that awful fucking couch. In fact, I had half a mind to set the damn thing on fire and roast marshmallows over its burning corpse. Why he kept the damn thing is beyond me.

  I like him too. He’s my kind of outlandish personality. Yet I can see the thoughts churning behind his eyes, his clear eyes. Plus he’s attractive. They all are.

  I could hear Pat’s snores from the other room, he sounds like a damn hobgoblin. Though I don’t know what a hobgoblin sounds like, I’m sure Patrick sounds like one, and I can picture him making those noises.

  Balor sleeps soundly. I remember that from our time together isolated away. I wonder if he is sleeping peacefully.

  Mac, ever the fucking gentleman, is sleeping on his side on top of the blankets. His even breathing tells me he’s out cold.

  Casseus, on the other hand, has left me no fucking room to breathe. He’s wrapped around me in a tangle of limbs. His heated breath is fluttering over my neck and the hand he has grasping my side keeps clenching in his sleep. Every so often he pulls me closer. I’m not a huge snuggler,
and I’m roasting and slick with sweat. But I also like it. Even if I wish there was an air conditioner to keep me cooler.

  The entire situation has me feeling rather confused. I won’t deny their attractiveness. Each unique in their own delicious way. Each drawing me to them.

  But that’s the damn problem. I want to atone for my past, not step knee deep in a pile of shit. And involving myself with all of them would be a huge pile of shit. Polygamy never works.

  I’m not one to shy away from multiple boyfriends, hell, I’ve done so in the past. They just, ah, didn’t know it at the time. See? It never works. Someone will always want something more or different, and I’m too selfish to accommodate another person.

  I groan, and I realize that’s the fucking problem.

  I like them. Though I’ve only known them a short amount of time, not including my brief introduction to Casseus at the bar, I like them. They have a story to tell that rivals every bedtime story I’ve ever heard. Not that I’ve heard many bedtime stories, my childhood didn’t really allow for that. But when I watch their eyes as they speak, darken or lighten, there is value there and a relatability I’ve never felt before in my short life.

  I care.

  I exhale in a rush, stirring Casseus who again tightens against me.

  “What’s wrong?” He nuzzles my neck, the tips of his mustache tickling my skin in a rather sensitive area.

  “I can’t sleep.” I try to keep my words to a whisper so as to not wake Mac.

  Fuck, I really do care about these guys. Especially the future friendships I can see and feel forming. I want to keep that.

  His lips brush over my pulse point and I nearly groan aloud. “Want me to help you?” His hand inches slowly upwards, shifting my borrowed shirt.