Demon Sworn: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Witch's Rebels Book 3)

by Sarah Piper

  Her words lit a spark in my chest, reminding me of Gray. How many times had she said that very thing?

  I took a sip of coffee to buy a second or two to myself. As a detective, I’d learned the importance of compartmentalizing, especially when I was working a case with personal stakes. I had to; I wouldn’t be able to function otherwise. But now I closed my eyes and allowed myself a peek behind the wall—the one I’d so carefully erected to keep my personal feelings about Gray separate from my investigation of her disappearance. I pictured her face the moment she’d tasted my brownies, all blissed out and happy. The way she twirled her hair when she was reading her book of shadows, so lost in the pages she didn’t even realize she was doing it. Her fierce determination when Darius and I had started training her to fight. The feel of her gentle touch when she’d kissed me on the cheek after I’d brought her new shampoo.

  My chest hurt, but it was worth the pain. I needed to remember why I was sitting here dealing with Hobb and all the leftover shit between me and my sister. It was because Gray was more important than my petty desires to avoid all of that discomfort, and the idea of anyone hurting her again…

  My teeth clenched so tight, my jaw ached.

  “We’ll get her back, brother,” Ronan whispered, pulling me out of my trance.

  When I looked over at him, his eyes were no longer black, but full of the same pain I felt inside. In that moment, I realized he understood exactly where my mind had gone.

  He understood it, because his own mind had never left that dark, tormented place. Not from the moment Gray was taken from us.

  He’d loved her for a long time. I was just getting to know her again, but already I cared for her more than I could put into words. I couldn’t even imagine how hard this must’ve been on him.

  I didn’t know how he handled the pain, the fear, but I only knew one way. So I slammed that wall firmly back into place and focused on the job, just like I’d done on every other horrible case I’d ever worked.

  “No,” Lansky said, “there isn’t.”

  It took me a beat to realize he was still talking about coincidence.

  “The amulet on its own is enough to link Gray’s disappearance with the Landes murder,” he went on, “but there’s also Landes’ van. They got it on camera when the hunter nabbed the incubus and the other witch, right? As far as we know, Landes himself is clean. And why else would hunters and fae be popping up in the RC if not to orchestrate something like this? We haven’t had issues with them in a long time.”

  Everyone looked to Hobb, who finally blew out a breath and nodded.

  “Yeah, alright,” he said. “You guys have a point.”

  He didn’t seem too thrilled about that fact, but I was ecstatic. After wasting the entire morning arguing and trying to make our case, it seemed we’d finally gotten everyone on the same page.

  “Good.” I tapped on the table, anxious to move forward. “Good. So let’s start with the commonalities. If we can find the obvious connecting points, we might be able to fill in some of the gaps, see where—”

  “It isn’t good, Emilio.” Elena’s face paled, the lines around her mouth deepening. Standing there still clutching the coffee pot, her brow furrowed, she looked so much like our mother my heart stalled out.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Elena headed back into the kitchen with the coffee pot. When she returned, she leaned against the wall and folded her arms over her chest, lowering her eyes like she didn’t want to see my reaction.

  For the first time since I’d woken up in her house, I sensed a hint of fear beneath her tough facade.

  “The fae showing up in the RC?” she said, her voice a hell of a lot lower than it had been moments earlier. “They’re Darkwinter.”

  Darkwinter? Now my stalled-out heart sank into my gut like a damn stone. I was no expert on Fae politics, but everyone knew the Darkwinter bloodline was the cruelest, most brutal, most frightening clan alive.

  “How do you know it’s them?” I asked. “Are you absolutely sure?”

  She and Hobb exchanged a glance.

  Hobb cleared his throat. “A confidential source—”

  “A confidential fae source,” Elena clarified. “She took a huge risk in coming forward, so don’t bother asking for her name.”

  I let it go. I understood the importance of protecting sources, and the last thing I wanted was for anyone else to end up in the line of fire on this one—especially if Darkwinter were involved.

  “Does your source have any idea what they’re after?” Ronan asked. “Why they’d team up with hunters?” His leg was jumping again, the twitchy energy pulsing like an electrical field around his body. It made me want to punch something.

  “It’s clearly connected,” Elena said, “But teaming up? I’m not so sure. Fae don’t usually trouble themselves with rivalries between other supers, let alone human hunters and witches. Maybe the fae and the hunters are working different angles here.”

  Ronan shook his head. “No coincidences, remember?”

  “No, I suppose not.” She leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes, the scent of her fear cresting.

  Hobb rose from his chair and headed into the kitchen, casually brushing his fingers against her bare arm as he passed. It happened so quickly, I almost hadn’t seen it.

  The scent of her fear instantly receded.

  One date my ass.

  “Ronan’s right,” I said, shifting my attention away from my sister and her alpha douchebag. Her relationships were none of my business—a lesson I should’ve learned a long fucking time ago.

  “According to our sources,” I continued, “the hunter we’ve been tracking is a rogue who split off from his family years ago. We already know he was working with vampires in the Bay—mercenary types looking to make a fast buck. And the way Gray disappeared? Time-release poison gas and a tracking device that could only be fae magic. So if you’re telling us you’ve got a dark fae infestation in Raven’s Cape, yeah, my money’s on them. Looks like they’re pinch-hitting for the hunters.”

  “If that’s true,” Lansky said, “there’s gotta be something major in it for them.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I admitted. The known quantities were terrifying enough, but the deeper we dug, the clearer it became that we’d only just scratched the surface of this case.

  “Okay,” Elena said, looking at each of us in turn as she counted off on her fingers. “We’ve got missing and murdered witches, a missing rogue vampire with a personal connection to the prime suspect, a dead human, a likely hostage situation, hunters and fae skulking around Raven’s Cape… It’s a lot to process. Where does that leave us?”

  Her eyes landed on me at that last question, and everyone else seemed to understand that it was mine to answer.

  What could I say? Elena and I might be estranged. Hell, she might hate me for the rest of her life. But in another lifetime, on another continent, we’d made a good team once. If that’s what it took to keep our world safe, then we’d just have to make a good team again.

  If not as pack, then as partners.

  I stood up and thrust out my hand, hoping like hell she’d take it. “It leaves us partners.”

  Reluctantly, she nodded and grasped my hand, the familiar touch warm despite her hesitation. Her soft brown eyes were so like my own it felt like looking in a mirror, and the longer I stared at her, the deeper it hurt. Flashes of our shared childhood seemed to flicker in her gaze, and I wondered whether all those once happy memories were tainted for her now.

  They weren’t for me. They never would be, no matter what we’d done to each other.

  Maybe, after all this shit was over, I’d find a way to tell her as much.

  “Thank you, Elena.” I released her hand and turned away before she sensed the swell of emotion in my chest. My sister and I had been estranged for twenty years, and that kind of rift didn’t just vanish after one good meal and a handshake.

  T
he past would have to wait. Right now I had to focus on—well—right now. And all that mattered right now was finding Gray and bringing her back home.

  Seven

  Gray

  The only warning I had was a tingling at the base of my neck and a gentle whisper inside my mind.

  Duck.

  Instinctively I dropped into a crouch, feeling the whoosh of air over my head as Jonathan swung his fist.

  No way was I giving him another shot—I rocketed back up to my feet, simultaneously driving the heel of my hand into his nose.

  The bone snapped. Blood gushed down his face.

  Jonathan wailed and cradled his busted nose, but within seconds, he was coming at me again, his eyes crazed, his voice pitched high.

  “You’re nothing but a demon slut!” he shouted, taking another awkward swing. I dodged, easily pivoting away from him. He coughed and sputtered as the blood ran into his mouth, but that didn’t stop him from hurling more insults. “You knocked me out so you could let him have his way with you, didn’t you?”

  He was talking about Asher, but I didn’t respond—just let him keep shouting, tiring himself out.

  “Just like he’s having his way with all the other witches now that you’re out of the picture,” he ranted. “That’s what incubuses do. How does that make you feel, whore?”

  His comment didn’t even register. I hoped Asher had found the others—if so, he was already working on a plan to rescue them, with Haley and Reva at his side. That was the picture that kept me going. The one that would carry me through my eternal sentence in this realm.

  My friends would be safe, because Asher had made a promise. After all the fighting, the making up, the things that had and hadn’t happened between us, I knew without a doubt he’d keep it.

  That’s what it meant to be a true friend. Looking out for each other. Keeping promises. Making sacrifices.

  Jonathan didn’t know anything about that.

  He continued his endless babbling, but I refused to take the bait—just continued to duck and weave as we circled each other. For all his tough talk, he was rapidly deteriorating, panting heavily, sweat gleaming on his forehead, blood covering his face.

  “It’s me you want, Sunshine,” he said. “Me you’ve always wanted.”

  At this, I finally spoke up. “It’s you I want dead, Jonathan. There’s a difference.”

  He continued on as if I hadn’t said a thing. “I’m willing to forgive your trickery back in the caves. You were upset. Confused. The demon had just sapped your energy, and you weren’t in control of your own mind when you attacked me. Of course, witches are deceitful by nature, and curious too—a bad combination.” He hobbled closer, more unsteady on his feet than he’d been even a minute ago. “All the more reason we mages must reclaim our birthright. The righteous among us will always rise above the wicked and depraved.”

  “Mages?” I rolled my eyes. “Save your hunter propaganda. Your preaching days are over.”

  “Not over,” he spat. “Not by a long shot.”

  “Hunters are going extinct and you know it,” I goaded. “That’s why you’re so desperate. You’re the last generation of a dying breed that should’ve been put out of its misery long ago.”

  I had no intention of letting him get under my skin again, but Jonathan took my bait—hook, line, and sinker.

  “We’re evolving, witch,” he snapped. “The old ways are dying, sure. But for those of us willing to embrace change? We’ll survive. Just like we’ve always done. And we’ll come out of this even stronger.”

  “You’re not evolving. You’re playing Dr. Frankenstein with a bunch of supers, hoping for a miracle. It won’t work, Jonathan.”

  “Oh, but I’ve already seen results.” He stopped circling me and grinned like a total psycho, revealing the blackened holes where most of his teeth used to be.

  Though he’d manifested here physically just like I had, his body seemed to be breaking down at a rapid pace. In addition to the nose job I’d given him, the wounds and imperfections I’d noticed back in the caves were even more pronounced now. Pieces of flesh had torn away from his face, revealing melon-colored wounds crusted with black blood. His hair was thin and patchy, and one of his eyes kept rolling to the side.

  “Results, huh?” I let my gaze roam down to his feet, then back up again, locking on his deteriorating face. What the hell had he done to himself, anyway? “How’s that working out for you?”

  His eyes widened, glazing over as if he were dreaming of some great, golden laboratory in the sky where all of his dreams would one day come true, and his father would march in there and give him a trophy and a big, manly hug, and together they’d toss back a few beers, light some torches, and go burn down a village.

  “It’s not about me, Sunshine,” he proclaimed. “Nope, nope, nope!”

  He was pure insanity, a literal raving lunatic.

  And I’d trapped myself here with him.

  For. Ever.

  “You claim witches can’t be turned into vampires,” he raved on, “but here’s a little secret: one already has.”

  “You’re so full of shit, Jonathan. Back in the caves, you told me you were working on it. Now it’s a done deal?”

  “We’re just waiting on the final tests, but all indications are that it worked. And before you get all sanctimonious on me, she volunteered. Oh, yes, that witch knows about sacrifice for the greater good. And she was rewarded for her loyalty with more power you can even imagine.”

  I stilled, narrowing my eyes at him, trying to find the lie in his words. Jonathan read my silence as intrigue, stepping closer and offering a mad, bloody smile. But I wasn’t intrigued at all. My brain was still stuck on the part about the witch who’d turned. Was that true, or just another one of his tricks? Witches never survived the vampire blood swap. So how had he done it? Fiona said he’d been working on technology to hybridize witches—and he’d confirmed that back in the caves. But had he actually succeeded?

  I filed the information away for later.

  Then I sighed, remembering my predicament. For me, there was no later. As far as I knew, I had no way to get in touch with Liam or the others. No way to let them know what Jonathan had just told me.

  “Despite everything, Sunshine, my offer still stands,” Jonathan said, gentler now. When I met his gaze again, his green eyes softened in a way that—if I’d let it—might’ve reminded me of all those times we’d made out in his tree fort in the woods as kids.

  “Do you mean that?” I asked, pretending to consider it.

  “We could be great together. You know that, Rayanne. You can feel it, just like I can.” He leaned in close, slowly inching his mouth toward mine. Then, in a hoarse whisper he probably thought was sexy, “You liked the taste of my blood, didn’t you? You want it again.”

  Doing my best to ignore the rotten stench of his breath, I smiled and let him get within a hair’s breadth of my lips.

  Then I spit in his face and head-butted his already smashed nose.

  He howled in agony as the blood surged all over again. “You treacherous little bitch!”

  “I tasted your blood once already, filthy hunter. That was enough.”

  Even after drinking all that water in the lake, the bitter tang of that blood still lingered on my lips.

  Still, no matter how revolting, it would never be enough to erase the memory of Asher’s fiery kiss. That was a kiss to remember, a taste I wanted to hold on to—at least, for as long as my memories lasted in this twisted place.

  My heart squeezed. In that moment, I wished more than anything I was back in that cave with Ash. Back in his arms.

  I wished we could do it all over again, without the threat of hunters and devil’s traps and murdered witches. I wished we could do it just because we wanted to be together. To feel that connection. That heat.

  I’d healed him—that much was obvious. But I’d never told him it was so much more than that for me.

  I’m, uh… I’m pret
ty sure I’m falling in love with you, too. So… there’s that.

  I closed my eyes for just a moment, replaying his words in my mind.

  “Fuck you, witch,” Jonathan shouted.

  I opened my eyes, unable to hold back the bubble of laughter pushing its way out.

  I laughed until my sides hurt and tears streamed down my cheeks.

  And then I fucking snapped.

  “Newsflash, Jonathan!” I shouted. “I’m already fucked. Completely, totally, thoroughly fucked. Everyone I care about is gone—I’ll never see them again. I don’t even know if they’re okay, or what kind of shitshow you left behind. I’m trapped in this realm for all eternity with my sworn enemy, a man—and I use that term very loosely—I find more repulsive than the idea of eating the demon shit I stepped in on the walk over. And now you’re trying to kiss me? Seriously? You know what, Jonathan? Fuck you.”

  I hauled off and punched him in the mouth. It was an easy hit, one he hadn’t seen coming, and my aim was true. But the crunch of my knuckles against his few remaining teeth was a lot less satisfying than I’d hoped.

  It riled him up, though, and he came at me with renewed energy, knocking me off my feet before I could duck out of the way.

  I hit the ground with a thud, then caught a sharp elbow to the face. Stars danced before my eyes and blood trickled from my nose, but I jumped back up to my feet before he could pin me down and do any more damage.

  “Like it or not, Rayanne,” he said, circling me again, “we stand a better chance of getting out of here if we work together.”

  “This is the Shadowrealm. There is no way out.”

  “There has to be. Our souls aren’t trapped—we still have have our bodies.”

  “I don’t know why we’ve physically manifested here, but you can’t leave,” I panted, swiping the back of my hand across my bloody nose. “It’s over. This is your fate now. Your final destination.”

  “If you think this is the end, witch—”

  “It is,” I shouted, cutting him off before the poison of his words leeched into my thoughts. “You can chase me all over this realm. We might spend the rest of eternity beating and tormenting each other.”