Supernatural Syndicate: A Limited Edition Collection of Magical Mafia Stories

by Thea Atkinson

  “Your mother is busy, isn’t she?”

  I say nothing.

  “Good!” He booms a laugh. “I would love for you both to come!”

  "Where are you now?" I ask. He's moved around a bit, and honestly, he's the opposite of a dryad. He has no roots tethering him to one place.

  “Allentown.”

  I furrow my brow. That sounds like a human city.

  “It’s in Pennsylvania.”

  “Great. I’ll text you when I know the dates we’ll be coming. Can you text me your address?”

  “I’ll meet you once you enter the city,” he says, and he hangs up.

  Okay…

  I turn to Clover and grin, even though I am terrified about this. "You sure you want to meet my dad? You do realize he's an incubus, right?"

  “I, ah, I knew he had to be a demon to, ah…” Clover’s skin is the same color as a tree trunk, but right now, his cheeks are a deep reddish-brown.

  “Not just any demon can impregnate a vampire,” I teasingly scold him. “Still want to meet him? If not, I can get us out of it.”

  Clover shakes his head. “We’re going,” he announces.

  My smile, forced, remains frozen on my face. My stomach twists into knots because I just know this is either going to go horribly or just flat-out terrible. Experience has prepared me for this time and again. Is it too much to hope that my dad behaves for once?

  Yeah, I know that’s the case.

  2

  My dad, for the most part, is actually not that terrible of a parent. He loves to give me gifts, but, ah, they aren’t always appropriate, and they are never ever wanted. Seriously. A potion to kill all of my enemies? Actually, it’s kind of disturbing that he thinks I even have enemies. I mean, it’s not as if I had to deal with much bullying at all at the academy. No, no real enemies. I wouldn't even consider the targets we have to hunt as enemies. Not personal ones, at least.

  But, Dad, he probably has a lot of enemies. Not that I’m worried about him. He’s a demon, so he can take care of himself, I’m sure. It’s just the sudden thought that maybe his enemies will want to go after me that has my stomach tightening as we drive to enter Allentown.

  Yes. Drive.

  Clover’s a bit ridiculous. He has an aversion for fairy dust to teleport unless the target is an immediate threat to others. So we have used it on occasion.

  But being a dryad, he can't fly. He can't go on an airplane. He just can't do it. That's too far away from trees. He physically can't.

  Which means that we have to waste some of our vacation time driving. I mean, it’s a twenty-hour drive. We both live outside of the Wilds, where HEX Unite headquarters is, but that’s all the way in the Midwest, and Pennsylvania’s a long haul away. And it’s such a wide state too! That doesn’t help any.

  And I should say “waste.” Clover and I talk the entire time. He’s so excited it’s ridiculous. And adorable. I wish I could share in his enthusiasm, but I just can’t.

  We took turns driving. I don’t have to sleep as much as normal people, so I do most of the driving. I’m fine by the time we arrive. I think Clover is too. Either that, or adrenaline is helping him.

  We cross into Allentown, and almost immediately, a sleek-looking black car shows up behind us. It drives around us, and I follow it to the western part of the city. Some of the houses here are exquisite, huge, more like mansions, and I’m not at all surprised when the black car idles in front of the nicest, largest, most impressive house yet.

  “That’s where your dad lives?” Clover asks, his jaw dropped.

  “Maybe?” I shrug. “I didn’t grow up here.”

  “Those trees…”

  Out front, in the yard, the mansion—there’s no other word for it—is bracketed by two massive trees that have to be seriously old. They’re flowering, somehow, even though it’s December and cold out. Seriously cold. I shiver as I get out of the car. Dad gifted me a Dodge Demon when I turned fifteen. Yes, before I could even legally drive. I ignored the car for a long while because it was just too flashy, but once he finally let me know how furious he was that I was just letting it sit, I opted to drive it. The last thing I wanted was for him to insist I use that potion to kill my enemies or one of those kinds of gifts.

  And I fell in love. This car is my baby. Octane red. A deeper red, more like when blood is dried. It’s perfect.

  Probably the best present he ever gave me.

  Clover’s shivering, and I cross around to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. I didn’t realize it would be so cold here either. Should’ve, given the time of year.

  “You ready?” I ask.

  Clover grins at me even though his teeth are chattering. “Yes, Calli. I’m ready.”

  I suck in a breath. He’s not trying to suggest he’s ready for something else, is he? No way. Our relationship is way too young to be that serious. I mean, our first date had been a disaster. It had been during my third year at the academy, and… yeah…

  But then we were assigned to a case as paranormal hunters together, and we found a spark in Japan right before Christmas.

  Christmas really is a magical time of year.

  Dad’s always hated Christmas, though. Obviously.

  “Let’s go,” I say with a lot more bravado than I feel.

  We take a step onto the sidewalk, and I almost trip, realizing no one is sitting in the black car. Did Dad drive it? Just who are his friends nowadays?

  Something tells me I don’t want to know, and I really have a bad feeling about this…

  3

  As if the driverless car isn’t creepy enough, the front door opens before we even climb up the speckled stone stairs. The entire path to the house is cobbled stones, the house itself made of stones as well, only those stones have been marbleized or at least look like marbles. In addition to the trees, the porch is held up by four columns, the pillars reaching to the second floor. That’s how high up the awning is. There’s even a balcony up there.

  I glance at Clover, but he's in awe, almost dragging me inside. It's exquisite. Gold crown molding, priceless art on every wall, a gold chandelier hanging a few feet from the entrance. The massive staircase leading up to the second floor is more marble, but the floor beneath our feet is solid cheery oak.

  “You must feel right at home,” I whisper to Clover.

  He grins at me, his brown eyes sparkling. His attire—brown slacks and a green golf shirt—might be a bit underdressed, considering Dad’s likely in a suit. As for me, I’m wearing a long-sleeved red velvet dress that reaches a few inches beneath my knees. We had the heat blasting in the car, so we both removed our coats, and in his rush and excitement, Clover had his leaving the car before either of us remembered to grab them.

  Sure enough, Dad strolls down the staircase in, not just a suit, but a perfect pinstripe suit.

  “Calli,” he says warmly. “And…”

  “Clover,” Clover and I say at the same time.

  Dad halts on the third to the last step. Oddly enough, Clover and I are beneath the glittering, gorgeous chandelier, which makes me feel a bit nervous. My arms are covered in goose bumps, and my hair is down, flowing around my shoulders, but that doesn’t stop the hairs on the back of my neck from rising.

  But then I catch a whiff of something familiar, something metallic, like rust almost.

  Blood.

  Did Dad just feed? I mean, he’s not a vampire…

  “Clover, why don’t you go freshen up?” I ask Clover, squeezing his hand.

  He slowly turns to look at me. “We just—”

  “Please.”

  His bushy eyebrows lower, and he drops his voice. “Do I smell?”

  “You want to make a good impression, right?” I murmur. “Your hair…”

  He grimaces. His hair never stays in place. It doesn’t help that I love to run my fingers through it.

  Dad waves his hand. “Down the hall, the third door on your left.”

  Clover ducks his head and hurrie
s away.

  I glower at my dad, who has turned and started up the stairs. With my vampire speed, I’m immediately by his side.

  He says nothing and leads me into a study that could be taken out of a mobster movie. It only serves to increase my anxiety.

  Dad strolls over to the desk, but he doesn’t sit behind it. He casually sits on the front edge of it, facing me as he removes his sportscoat to reveal a huge bloodstain.

  “Dad, how are you bleeding?” I gape at the wound.

  He scowls at me. “Demons can bleed. It just doesn’t happen often.”

  “How did it happen?”

  The flash of his teeth, the raw anger in his eyes… most everyone would be afraid to be in his presence.

  I'm not, for the most part. My dad doesn't look like a demon, with a strong jawline and his face all angles, hard, and rigid. His hair is perfect, never a strand out of place, a classic fifties pompadour. His eye color varies. When he's being a proper incubus, his eyes burn with the flames of Hell. Otherwise, they can be whatever color he wants them to be.

  Right now, they’re as black as oil, twin pits of despair.

  Not despair. Barely contained rage.

  He barks a bitter laugh as he starts to tend to the wound, cleaning it even as it slowly begins to heal, the blackness of his veins fading away to their normal hue.

  “Dad?” I ask cautiously.

  “I can’t get into Bethlehem.”

  “Bethlehem?”

  “It’s a city near here,” he grumbles, clearly bitter. “Can you go there? I will entertain Clover.”

  “Ah…” I’m not so sure about this. Is this related to his wound? Will I be in danger?

  And just what does he mean by entertain?

  “Dad, I don’t want you to, ah, entertain—”

  His laughter is a bit more easy-going now. “You do not want me to reveal my incubus ways to him!”

  “Hell no!” I shout.

  His laughter is even louder and happier now, but when he speaks again, he’s all serious and back to being bitter. “If you do this for me, I promise you a gift.”

  I scowl. I’m not sure I want a gift from my dad. Most are terrible, but he had been hurt…

  “I’ll go,” I promise.

  His grin is positively devilish. “Thank you, my dear.”

  I gulp. What have I gotten myself into?

  4

  I leave Dad’s study. I guess I should be glad that he didn’t offer me a weapon or arm me in any way, but I have a few things on my person at all times and more weapons in the car.

  Clover’s examining one of the paintings up close. He turns as I glide down the stairs, and his smile has me smiling.

  “I have to go out to get something,” I murmur to him. I kiss his cheek. “You and my dad can become acquainted, just like you wanted, okay?”

  His eyes widen.

  “Don’t worry. Dad won’t do anything to you. Will you?” I raise my voice, knowing Dad can hear me.

  He chuckles as he comes to stand near us. “I am an incubus, not a demon the likes of which you’ve heard nightmarish stories about. You have nothing to worry about, either of you.”

  I stare at Dad curiously. He said he can’t get into Bethlehem. Why is that, and why does he think I’ll be able to?

  I smile at them both, blow a kiss to Clover, which makes Dad growl, so I blow my boyfriend another kiss, and I’m off. My GPS tells me where to go. Bethlehem isn’t far away at all. Not even twenty minutes later, I’m in Bethlehem.

  Almost immediately, just like in Allentown, there’s a car behind me. A police car.

  Are you kidding me? Yes, at times, I have a lead foot. Who doesn't? But I'm not speeding.

  Doesn’t matter. The lights go on.

  Fangtastic.

  I pull over, and a tall blonde strolls up to my car. I roll down the window.

  “Is there a problem, Officer?” I ask.

  “I’m a detective, actually,” she says, “and I don’t like to have your kind here.”

  My nostrils flare. I’m seriously indignant over this until I recall that Bethlehem is a human city.

  Which means there’s no reason why Dad shouldn’t have been able to come here.

  But wait. How does she know what I am?

  I blink my eyes a few times. "I don't know what you're referring to, but I'm pretty sure that profiling, like you seem to be doing by suggesting that I'm some 'kind' of something or other, isn't allowed. It's not legal."

  “Cut the crap, Fangs,” she snaps.

  “Who are you?” I stare at her. She looks human enough at first glance, but then I see a bit of darkness.

  And light.

  “Are you…” I gape, my mouth hanging wide open. I’m glad Clover isn’t here because it can’t possibly be a flattering look.

  “What do you think I am?” she asks, her tone a bit curious now.

  “Demon and angel, but…”

  She grins a bit before scowling. “Vampires aren’t welcome—”

  “Not all vampires are evil. I went to Magical Hunters Academy. I’m a paranormal hunter, if you must know.”

  “That so?” She appraises me.

  “Yeah, and I’m not a dead vampire either, if that makes any difference in your opinion.”

  She doesn’t blink.

  “Incubus dad, vampire mom…”

  The police detective is silent.

  “I’m actually here because of my dad,” I say.

  “Why?” she snaps, all attitude again.

  “He got injured. You know anything about that?”

  “No,” she says.

  “How can I believe you? The moment I drive into your town, you harass me. How do I… You don’t leave Bethlehem much, do you?”

  “On rare occasions, I do.”

  “Have you lately?”

  “I didn’t hurt your dad, Fangs.”

  “It’s Calli,” I grumble. “Do you want me to call you Pig?”

  To my surprise, she bursts out laughing. "I might like you. The jury's still out on that count, though."

  “The jury’s going to come back with an innocent verdict. I’m not guilty of liking you,” I grumble.

  “I swear I didn’t hurt him,” she says, all serious now. “Did he tell you what happened?”

  “Like you want to get involved in demon… Do you? I mean, you are part demon.”

  “Half demon,” she corrects. “Half and half.”

  “A demon and an angel? I never would’ve thought…”

  "Yeah, well, imagine growing up thinking you're just a regular human adopted by loving parents. Witnessing a guy gnaw on a woman's jugular. Learning vamps, werewolves, and so many more are actually real. Talk about a mind trip."

  “And you’re a cop, sorry, a detective to boot. I bet Bethlehem has to be one of the safest cities in the entire United States.”

  "It didn't use to be. In fact, angels hated me for a while. They wanted avenge… I don't want to talk your ear off, but if you and your dad need help… I don't normally involve myself in outsider stuff, in angel or demon stuff, but…"

  “Dad didn’t tell me much of anything,” I say. “Just that he can’t go into Bethlehem, and he wanted me to see if I could find out why.”

  A slow grin spreads across her face. It irks me that I told her my name, but she still hasn’t told me hers.

  “What’s the freaky smile for?” I grumble, put out.

  “I’m just happy to learn demons can’t enter,” she says, smug as a bug in a rug.

  “I guess that’s a good thing…” I shrug. “Why’s that?”

  “A deal put in a few years ago.” She looks so very smug that I know she’s the reason behind the deal.

  But who could have guaranteed her that no demons would ever be able to enter into the city?

  A thought crosses my mind, and I’m seriously blown away.

  She just smiles, smug as ever.

  Lucifer? No way!

  I stare at her with a vast amount
of respect, but I'm also a bit unnerved. She's actually talked to Lucifer himself, and she survived.

  And she made a deal with him.

  She's either insane or ingenious, and I have a feeling it's the latter.

  "I noticed no demons came here ever, but to know they can't…" Her smile is even wider now, but then she shakes her head and admits, "But lately, a few months ago, I noticed that there has been a serious uptick in crime."

  "When exactly?" I ask, grabbing my phone out of my purse on the passenger seat.

  “October fourteenth.”

  “That’s a specific date,” I mutter as I do some digging, having a hunch. There’s no record on supes.com about when Dad bought that place. Maybe it’ll be on a human site? I’m just wondering about the timeline of it all.

  “I pay strict attention to detail,” she says with a shrug. “I always felt guilty that I couldn’t encompass more than the protection, ah, bubble around just Bethlehem, but…”

  I can’t find anything, so I toss my phone on top of my purse. “I’ll see if it’s my dad,” I offer.

  “Great!”

  “On one condition,” I warn.

  She doesn’t blink, doesn’t move, doesn’t react.

  “Tell me your name.”

  “Clarissa Garcia.”

  “Was that so hard?” I ask sweetly.

  “Suppose not,” she mutters. “I don’t like the idea of a demon overlord lurking in Allentown.”

  “He can’t get into Bethlehem.”

  “I know, but if he realizes that, if others try…”

  “I don’t think you have to worry,” I say dryly. “Not if he’s on your side.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” she mutters before shaking her head. “I’m worried about the people in Allentown.”

  “Me too. Dad’s always been in paranormal cities before, not a human one. I’ll see what I can do. I’m not sure he is behind the uptick in crimes, but…” I shrug.

  “Thank you, Calli.”

  I wink at her. “Maybe try not to stake all vampires as soon as one crossing into your city?”

  “Who said anything about a stake?” she asks dryly, brushing aside her arm to reveal her gun in its holster.