Hell is a Harem: Book 4

by Kim Faulks

  Did she know about Redemption? Was that the reason for the beneath them remark? Didn’t want an Unseelie attached to someone like me…I closed my mouth, tucking unspoken secrets away.

  “And is that all?” she murmured.

  “Isn’t that enough? Have you ever shared a room with an Archangel and a damn Hellhound? Always at each other’s throats. Always picking at each other. Titus keeps me sane, and keeps them from killing each other. But make no mistake, they are mine. I’ll love and protect them for as long as I live.”

  She exhaled long and slow, as though she hadn’t taken a breath this entire time.

  “You expect me to believe you’d kill for the death of your mother, and to avenge your lover, and not for revenge of yourself?”

  I rested the spoon against the side of the bowl and pushed my spine against the back of my seat. “Yes, and I really don’t care if you believe me or not. It’s the truth. I would’ve never killed the hag unless it was in self-defense. She knew I was going after the Nine, so she ambushed me…and I killed her. If you don’t believe me, bring in the hag from the forest. The last one crawled inside my mind, I can’t see why this one couldn’t do the same.”

  She turned to me then, rising up like the seventh level of Hell to stand on her feet and lean over the corner of the table. “And you’d do that? You’d open every dark and terrible secret to me?”

  I swallowed hard, and then answered. “If it meant I could get back home to my family, then yes.”

  Red lips curled against her teeth. Blood lingered between the cracks, and my gut clenched in warning. The image of Boroch’s back filled my mind. Did she bite him as well? Is that why she wasn’t hungry…because she was full of Unseelie blood?

  She lowered her gaze to the almost empty bowl. The contents of my stomach now sloshing against the side by the sight of that one sickening smile. “I’m glad you liked the soup,” she murmured. “Unseelie heart is so delicious when it’s stewed in its own juices.”

  She pushed backwards, standing to her full height before she turned. Her heels rang against the walls as I lowered my gaze to the bowl…Unseelie heart? I swallowed…and swallowed. I’d just eaten heart…someone’s goddamn heart.

  I shoved from the table and raced for the bathroom as the warm soup filled my mouth. I wasn’t going to make it…and in the corner of the Queen’s dining room I dropped to my knees and emptied my belly.

  Bits of meat hit the floor with a splash.

  Tiny specks of green herbs stuck to the wall.

  I held on, driving my nails against the cold stony floor as tears began to flow…and I prayed.

  Chapter Eight

  Titus

  The cruiser pulled up against the curb. I turned to Hodges and reached for his grasp once more. “I appreciate it, thanks, buddy.”

  “Anytime, you know the number Titus. Don’t make me hunt your ass down,” he muttered and leaned back against the driver’s seat as the rest of us piled out of the car.

  “Jesus, you could see this damn place from Mars,” Rival muttered and lifted his hand to shield his eyes.

  I blinked into the glare, and did the same as the police cruiser pulled away from the curb and slipped into the lane of traffic. Bright lights pulsed neon white with the word Luminous.

  Someone smacked into my side as the crowd swallowed the pavement now that the cop car was gone.

  “Sorry,” the guy muttered and met my gaze.

  “Jerry…Jerry, get me in,” the girl hanging off his arm poked him in the ribs. She was tiny, with platinum blonde hair that reached down her bare back. The sparkly silver dress barely caught the curve of her ass. There was more flesh than material there.

  Lorn wouldn’t be caught dead in something like that. The words took me by surprise, swelling up to fill that hollow ache inside my chest.

  “Jerry,” his girl snarled. “I said, get me inside.”

  The guy lifted his gaze to the long line of people waiting and then glanced at her. “I can’t…there’s no way, Mon.”

  There was a sigh, before she turned those brown eyes on me. “What the fuck you looking at?”

  Movement came from the corner of my gaze as a sleek silver Bentley pulled up against the curb. All heads turned…even the bouncers outside the double doors.

  Doors swung open before a guy stepped out…or at least I think it was a guy. Long sleek silver hair caught a breeze as the guy stepped up the curb and buttoned the jacket of an arctic-blue suit. He turned his head, met my gaze…and I was stunned with just how fucking beautiful he was.

  Silver eyes were punctured with midnight pupils. He seemed to capture me…just like he seemed to capture everyone else who stood around him. Seelie, the name slipped through my mind, and in an instant the spell was broken, as though part of me stood back from his power.

  The Seelie’s smile faltered as he stared at me. There was a flare of annoyance, and then a pressure, like a weight inside my mind. The sickly smell of lilac filled my nostrils, and my gut tightened. Still that pressure built, like I was climbing a mountain, ready for the pressure in my ears to pop.

  “He’s trying to control you,” Gabriel murmured. “And he can’t, which is pissing him off.”

  I glanced to the Archangel and shook my head. “Really?”

  A smirk tugged the corner of his lips. “Really…”

  Well, I’ll be damned…the Seelie snarled and brushed past me, but still that heavy weight on my mind lingered.

  “I’m not waiting,” Rival glanced at the throng of jostling partygoers around us. “Redemption can find us inside.”

  He pushed ahead, earning grumbles and a few choice words from the crowd. His lips curled, the snarl and a glare from the Hellhound stilled their outrage.

  The fires of Hell lingered close to the surface, blue and black flames danced in his eyes. The guy nearest us lifted his hands and muttered. “Whoa, whatever dude.”

  “Did you just call me dude?” Rival leaned closer to the guy, the whites of fangs peeking out from under his lips.

  The human male swallowed hard and paled.

  “Come on,” I muttered, taking a step and pushing him toward the entrance to the club. “Save your testosterone high for the bouncer and get us in there.”

  My mind was stuck on the Seelie, and the power he’d tried to weild over me. I was immune. That realization wasn’t lost on me. I tried to think if something like that had ever happened before…

  I’d dealt with demons and wolves. Hell, I’d dealt with witches and warlocks, even a pissed-off Orc. But I’d never been on the receiving end of another’s power. It felt…weird, like I was supposed to feel scared or worried. But I just felt numb, like it never even touched me.

  Rival climbed the stairs, snarled at the long line of humans in front of the bouncer, and tried to push through. The bouncer was a mountain of a man, he heaved one massive hand into the air and rested it against Rival’s chest. “I.D.”

  “What?” Rival glanced down at the guy’s monstrous hand, and then lifted his gaze. “Did you say?”

  “No I.D. No entry,” the bouncer glared.

  “Umm, Rival,” Gabriel murmured. “You don’t have any—”

  Rival jerked his head toward the Archangel. “I know that, you think I don’t know that? I’ve been alive for five hundred fucking years, of course I’m not going to have damn I.D.”

  “If Lorn was here, she’d—” Gabriel muttered and then stilled as the blue flames in Rival’s eyes darkened to midnight.

  The Archangel took a step back from the Hellhound as he turned to the bouncer. “Okay, so here’s how we’re going to do this. You’re going to let me and my friends in there,” he glanced to the doors. “And we’re going to do this without breaking any bones, and spilling any intestines. ’Cause my friend here,” he jerked his head toward Gabriel, “is fucking squeamish at the sight of blood. I personally love it. I can play in the shit all fucking day, it’s good for the pores and the skin tone.”

  The doorman pa
led and dropped his hand. “You can’t…”

  Rival clucked his tongue. “Never say that word to a Hellhound, my friend. He might just take you up on the challenge for the hell of it.”

  The bouncer looked from Rival, to Gabriel, and then to me. “Don’t look at me, this guy can get kinda pissy, especially when someone mentions the pants.”

  “It was one time, cop. One goddamn time, are we gonna bring it up every fucking time we go out?” Rival stared at me. “Well?”

  The bouncer just watched the commotion like it was prime time T.V.

  “Yellow pants,” I murmured and listened to the Hellhound snarl.

  One step and I stared at the bouncer. See, I could live without a badge. Who needed one when I had Rival?

  The bouncer stepped backwards, and then ducked as Gabriel stretched his wings, and then stepped past, followed by Rival, and then me. “I did you a favor,” I muttered and motioned toward the moody sonofabitch as he snarled at the humans inside the door. “Now you’re gonna do me one. There’ll be a big guy, black hair, dark eyes, looks like he’ll kill you as soon as look at you. His name’s Redemption. When he gets here, tell him we’ll meet him at the bar.”

  The bouncer just nodded as I lifted my hand and patted his shoulder. “Good man.”

  I followed the others, pushing through the door and into the gloom. The beat of the music throbbed, pulsing all the way into the back of my head. I winced at the deafening rhythm and followed the others as they made for the bar at the rear. There were supes all around me. Sly gazes went straight for Gabriel, but they quickly figured he wasn’t a threat, then they glanced at Rival and winced…

  Yeah, I’d wince too, buddy…

  Then they settled on me. My skin crawled under their gazes. I turned my head, focussing on the dancing bodies ahead of me, and pushed through the crowd. Still I could feel their gazes at my back.

  They didn’t know what I was, but they could sense I was different. How had I never noticed that before? I’d been just a cop…just a regular goddamn cop being fucked up the ass by those I served with.

  Aeon.

  He filled my head as Gabriel slowed at the bar. The man…or dragon, was my father…the creator of races, Lucifer had called him. What use was that to me now? The woman I loved was a captive in a realm I couldn’t fucking wrap my head around, let alone get to.

  My only hope was this place—I lifted my head to the same Seelie that had tried to down me with his power. He had his back to us, leaning over, talking to some young female at the bar. Gabriel stepped closer, smiled apologetically, and tried to break into the conversation.

  But the guy wasn’t having it, ignoring the Archangel as he attempted to chat to the woman. Rival stopped next to Gabriel, glanced my way, and then turned back as I pushed through the last of the crowd.

  The Hellhound’s lips moved, words I didn’t hear. But I could guess. I winced as the Seelie flinched and then jerked his head toward me. Still Rival kept speaking…even as I stopped at his side.

  “…so that’s what we want. The question is, are you Seelie enough for the task? Now I know you’re no crowned Prince. An immortal like that wouldn’t be caught dead in a dive like this. But you might just be strong enough.”

  “Strong enough for what?” I growled and glanced at Rival.

  I didn’t have a good feeling about this…not at all.

  “My friend...” Rival glanced at the sparkling sonovabitch and waited.

  “Twilforth,” the silver-haired fae answered.

  “Twilforth,” Rival winced at the name and glanced at me, “is gonna help us through the wall that borders the Unseelie realm.”

  “In exchange for?” I glared at the Hellhound, catching the corners of his lips twitch.

  “For your blood,” the Seelie rose from the barstool to face me.

  Standing toe-to-toe, he was bigger. Long, shimmering silver hair glinted like the sun caught the surface of the clearest stream. Wide steel-colored eyes were fixed on me, widening ever so slightly as I took a step and closed the gap. “And what would you want with my blood?”

  “To understand you, of course,” the male fae murmured. “You taste different.”

  “I taste different?” I wrenched my gaze to the Hellhound as he took one slow step backwards.

  “It was the only way, brother,” Rival murmured, his eyes widened with excitement, filled to the goddamn brim with glee.

  Yeah, glee was the right world.

  I glanced to the Seelie once more, catching the movement as he raised his hand above his head, long wicked nails sharpened and ready.

  “What the fuck!” I growled as the bastard unleashed, carved the air and arced down.

  Instinct kicked in. I yanked my arm upwards, blocking the blow, and then turned, palm open, grasping the motherfucker’s wrist, and yanked.

  Power slammed into me like a goddamn freight train. I stumbled, dragging the asshole with me as Rival and Gabriel watched from the sidelines.

  It didn’t matter. I had two years of police training, working the supernatural line in Harbor’s city streets. Energy swelled, piercing my head, pins and needles raced along my arms as the Seelie screamed and stumbled.

  One pivot and the bastard doubled at the waist. I shoved my forearm into the joint of his shoulder and drove the bastard all the way to the floor.

  Silver hair went flying. The bastard’s shrieks were all I could hear. Still that stabbing energy tried to find a way in…the pain carried all the way through my head and down into my heart.

  Movement at the corner of my vision. Rival took a step, his eyes twinkling with excitement as he bent and yelled. “Say Uncle!”

  “What?” The fae thrashed and bucked, swiping that perfect blue suit all over the filthy floor.

  “It’s the magic word…if you say it, he’ll stop,” the Hellhound gave me a wink.

  He was enjoying this…I glanced to Gabriel…they both were.

  “Uncle, for Goddess’ sake. UNCLE!!” Twilforth squealed and whimpered.

  I eased my arm, taking a slow, careful breath, and then carefully rose. The bartender just stared at me, open-mouthed, the filthy, once-white dish towel slung over his shoulder.

  The Seelie male didn’t move for a moment. He dragged his knees closer to his chest, and for a second I thought that was where he was going to stay, huddled in a ball in front of the bar…with the entire nightclub full of patrons milling around.

  But then he pushed from the floor and dragged his feet underneath him. “That was the most demeaning, most disgusting experience I’ve ever endured in this unmerciful place.”

  “Welcome to every Friday and Saturday night,” the bartender muttered and then stepped toward the bar nodding at a guy waving money.

  “Why would you do something like that?” I shook my head and stared at the immortal. “I’ve been a cop for as long as I can remember. Weapon or no weapon, you come at me, and I’m going to take you down.”

  The Seelie glared at Rival. “The Hound said you understood the rules.”

  Rival glanced at me and shrugged. I trusted the sonovabitch about as far as I could kick him. “And what rules are those?”

  “That a blood price must be paid for any service rendered,” he snapped and tugged the front of his jacket. “The bargain was for yours.”

  I still had damn holes in my arms from the hospital’s needles, still feel the drugs running through my veins. The last thing I needed was a damn bloodletting. “Why me?”

  The Seelie stiffened and then raised his head, meeting my gaze. “Because you didn’t waver when I hit you with every ounce of power that I had. You are unnatural, even for an immortal.”

  “Ooo,” Rival winced. “Pot…kettle…”

  He winced, baring his teeth, but the Seelie was right. No matter how I cut it, I wasn’t damn human and I wasn’t immortal—not like any other one out there.

  “And you can tell what my power is with my blood?” I took a step toward the asshole.

  He f
linched as I neared, taking a step backwards, and stared from me to the Hellhound. “I can get a sense of it, yes, if there are any weaknesses.”

  “And any strengths,” Rival broke in and suddenly the wince turned into a smile, as though he’d just realized how he could spin this whole fucking thing. “Hey?” He lifted his hand, and motioned to the Seelie. “See…I told you.”

  “And this is your price for getting us into the Unseelie Kingdom?”

  Twilforth held my gaze. “It is.”

  I leaned closer, making sure the asshole heard me and I understood perfectly what I was letting myself in for. “How much blood are we talking here?”

  The Seelie flinched at the question. “Two drops, no more.”

  I stared at the twinkling idiot and then nodded. “Then I agree, but…and I mean but, no fucking claws. You want the blood, fine. But I draw it…” I glanced around. “And not here.”

  The Seelie’s tongue skirted his lips. He glanced at my neck and jerked his head toward the back of the club. “There’s a room out back. The owner lets me use it.”

  I didn’t ask what for, and thank God he didn’t elaborate. One glance at the others and the male fae brushed past a group of humans gathered at the bar. I followed him, waiting for Rival and Gabriel to fall in line and wondered what the repercussions of having my blood in the body of a Seelie were?

  Would he taste more than just my power?

  Could he steal from me….take my memories?

  Take Lorn?

  “Wait,” I growled.

  The fae stopped at the entrance to the back room. I’d survived a fire, and then a coma…there’s no way I’d risk losing her again. “By taste, does that mean there’s any transference, memories, power, fucking soul, or whatever?”

  “I’m not a damn Reaper,” the Seelie growled. “I taste all your memories, and, yes, your power. But I can’t consume anything, I cannot steal anything.”

  “Good,” I murmured and nodded. “Okay, I just wanted to check before I…”

  The Seelie grabbed the door handle and twisted, then we were through, plunging into the darkness with only the floor lights to guide our way. The music from the club dulled so at least I could hear him as he walked deeper into the building. “Why do you want to get across to that festering pit of infernal foulness anyway?”