Shadow Kissed: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Witch's Rebels Book 1)

by Sarah Piper

  I felt his heat behind me as he stepped over the threshold. “Gray, you’re off tonight. You’re off… indefinitely.”

  “What are you talking about? I’ve got four shifts this week, a double on—”

  “Waldrich knows the situation. He’s got someone filling in until you’re ready to come back.”

  “Waldrich knows?” I dropped the mail on the table and spun around to face him. “You talked to my boss about me? Behind my back?”

  “He’s our boss, you haven’t slept in days, and I’m not about to let you walk around the warehouse district alone in the middle of the night—at least not until Emilio has a better handle on what’s going on.”

  “Let me?” A flare of anger shot through my chest, but it petered out just as quickly, his earlier words echoing.

  “What if I’d walked in there and found the most important person in my life just… just gone?”

  Ronan had always been overprotective of me, and honestly, I’d always kind of liked it. Yeah, it got a little overbearing sometimes, but it also made me feel safe. Special, even.

  Right now, it made me feel helpless.

  But I couldn’t be mad at him.

  Not when he was looking at me like that, all sweet and concerned and just… Ronan. And definitely not when he put his hands on my face, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs.

  “I’m sorry I overstepped,” he said.

  I allowed a tiny smile to peek through my scowl. “No, you’re not.”

  Ronan sighed, but he didn’t deny it. “I just want to keep you safe. And you need sleep—you’re exhausted.”

  “I know. I get it. It’s just…” I glanced over to that stack of mail, anxiety bubbling in my stomach. “I wish I could hide out until all this blows over, too. But life doesn’t come with a pause button. I have responsibilities. Bills.”

  Twice as many, now that Sophie was gone. This place only worked with the two of us bringing in money. Sometimes she covered me, sometimes I covered her, but together we’d kept it going.

  I was only just starting to consider all the practical aspects to what’d happened. Losing Sophie meant losing the home we’d shared—I couldn’t afford to stay here by myself, and even if I could find a roommate I trusted, I just couldn’t imagine living here with anyone other than my Sophie.

  I hadn’t even started sorting through her things yet. I couldn’t bring myself to go in her bedroom, knowing I’d never see here there again.

  My eyes welled up again, and Ronan wrapped me in his strong, comforting embrace. Burying his nose in my hair, he said softly, “Don’t worry about covering your shifts or your bills. I’ve got you.”

  I pulled back to look at him, my hands curling around his biceps. Gratitude warred with frustration as the new realization dawned. “Your Waldrich’s temp. You’re working my shifts so he doesn’t fire me.”

  Ronan was silent.

  “I can’t ask you to do that,” I said.

  Ronan shrugged. “I know.”

  “Ronan, you can’t just… why? You have your own job, and—”

  “I can’t… I can’t bring her back to you, Gray. I’m a goddamned demon and I don’t have the power to bring her back.” His eyes blazed with new fire, his muscles tensing beneath my touch. “I can’t take that terrible pain out of your eyes or patch up the hole in your heart or make any of this okay. But I can cover for you with Waldrich. I can pay a few bills while you’re getting back on your feet.”

  Ronan sighed and shook his head, some of the fire fading. “Just let me do this for you,” he whispered. “Please, Gray. I’m going out of my damn mind.”

  I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against his chest, the last of my resistance crumbling away.

  “Okay. But I’m only taking a week off, and I’m paying you back for every cent as soon as I catch up again. With interest.”

  “Two weeks, and you can pay me back by taking care of yourself and promising me you won’t sneak out on your own again.”

  “God, you're impossible.”

  “Just… Call Darius or Ash if you need something tonight, okay?” Ronan grabbed my hands, pressing a kiss to my palms.

  The touch of his lips sent a zing across my skin, and when he lingered there and closed his eyes, inhaling my scent, memories of our earlier kiss rushed through me once again.

  That kiss had surprised the hell out of me—maybe it’d surprised us both. But it hadn’t been some caught-up-in-the-moment mistake. It was real. I knew he felt it too—now and then.

  But for whatever reason, Ronan was backing off.

  “I should head out,” he said. “Promise me you’ll stay put unless you’ve got backup?”

  Disappointment washed over me, head to toe. Maybe he didn’t want to screw up our relationship. Maybe he felt guilty for snatching some small moment of pleasure in the wake of our friend’s death. Maybe he thought it was too trivial, too distracting with everything else we had to face.

  Maybe, maybe, maybe… I could think of a hundred more of those, but none of them outweighed my convictions that what we shared was right. That it was special, just like he’d always made me feel in his arms.

  But when I looked into Ronan’s eyes now, all traces of his earlier vulnerability—of his earlier heat—had gone.

  “Okay. I promise,” I said.

  “Good. Lock the door. Get some rest. Once it gets dark, I’ll have Asher and Darius check on the house a few times. I’ll try to swing by on my break.”

  Great. Darius was one thing—I wouldn’t mind a visit from him, actually. But Asher was the last demon I needed showing up on my doorstep. “You guys don’t need to swing by on my account.”

  “I’m not doing it for you, remember? I’m doing it for me.” Ronan grinned, brushing a lock of hair from my forehead. “What can I say? I’m a very selfish demon.”

  You don’t kiss like a selfish demon. You kiss like the kind of man who takes his sweet, delicious time, touching and teasing and kissing every part of me until I’m trembling…

  The heat crackled between us, but when Ronan leaned in this time, it was only to brush his lips quickly across my forehead, a once comforting and familiar gesture that now left me cold and wanting.

  “Later, Gray. Be good.”

  Ronan headed out the front door and down the porch steps, and for the first time in the history of our friendship, I didn’t watch him go. I turned away and shut my door before he even hit the sidewalk, my lips longing for his kiss, my core aching with unmet need, and my heart heavier and more confused than ever.

  Twenty-Three

  Gray

  My bed had never seen so much action.

  And by action, I meant my butt planting itself snugly in the middle of the lumpy Queen-sized mattress, and remaining in that exact position for two straight days, waking only to send a few check-in texts to Ronan.

  He was right—I was totally exhausted. I had no idea whether Asher stopped by, or any of the other brooding supernatural men who’d suddenly become part of my life. But when I finally dragged my butt out of bed on the third day, the sun had already gone down, my house was still standing, and I was pretty sure no one had tried to kill me in my sleep, so I was counting that as a win.

  Then again, maybe I’d just scared them off with my eye-watering smelliness.

  Hey, whatever works.

  After a much-needed shower, I dressed in clean PJs and turned on my phone, returning a few texts to let everyone know I was rejoining the world of the living. There were a bunch from Ronan, just checking in, and a couple from Emilio—he didn’t have anything new to share about the case, but wanted me to know he was around if I needed anything.

  There was also a voicemail notification, but I didn’t recognize the number.

  I hit the playback button.

  “Hello, love,” Darius said, the liquid caress of his voice sending a spark of awareness low in my belly. “I despise the impersonal nature of this black magic they call voicemail, so I hope you’ll forgive t
he brevity of my message. I am so sorry for your pain, Gray. So, so sorry. And I do hope you know I am available should you need anything at all, whether that be the promised cheeseburger, or a midnight stroll, or just some intelligent conversation—something I’m sure you’re sorely lacking, given the company you keep. Nevertheless, I understand you may prefer your privacy at this time, so no worries at all about returning my message. But if you need anything, do get in touch. Either way, I shall ring you again soon, love.” He let out a low chuckle. “Well, so much for brevity. In any case, thinking of you. Be well.”

  I smiled and saved his info to my contacts, surprised and touched by his thoughtfulness. The message included several more minutes of muffled crowd sounds and clicking glassware before he came back on again with a flustered huff. “Bloody hell, I thought I’d… Where is the damn button? Yes, I realize that, but it’s a new… Here, you do it, then.”

  By the time he finished grumbling, and the message cut off, I was actually laughing out loud. The sound took me by surprise—it’d been so long since I’d heard it—and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt those muscles in my stomach tighten.

  Thank you, Darius. Truly.

  Feeling lighter than I had in days, I headed into the kitchen to make tea, stealing myself to face the ritual alone for the first time since Sophie's murder.

  The spell of bleach drifted around me, still lingering from when I’d cleaned up Ronan’s burnt toast. It was dark and dead silent, the only noise coming from the second hand ticking away on the fox clock.

  “What time is it, Mr. Fox?”

  I couldn’t look at the clock without hearing Sophie’s voice. How many times had she asked that?

  “Time for you to come home for tea,” I whispered, touching the painted mugs we’d left in the dish drainer that morning. I hadn’t been able to put them away, and in that empty, silent moment, with no texts or voicemails to occupy my thoughts, I felt the absence of her like it was another person in the room.

  A void, heavy and solid, a loss composed of a hundred tiny things: The smell of paint emanating from the spare bedroom. The click-clack of her platform heels in the hallway as she left for work. The kitchen trash overflowing with spinach stems from the green smoothies she loved.

  I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, my senses reaching out for her even though my brain knew she was gone. The house was already starting to lose her scent—strawberries and cream, like the best kind of summer sweetness.

  When I opened my eyes again, my gaze drifted to the kitchen table, where Sophie's tarot deck still sat.

  “Don’t erect a shrine on my account!”

  Her voice playfully scolded me in my head, and I smiled, flicking on the overhead light and taking a seat at the table.

  After a quick shuffle, I fanned out the cards and pulled one from center, flipping it to reveal the Page of Cups, a young, vibrant girl with ebony skin walking along the beach, carrying a fish inside a golden cup. She was barefoot, but dressed in opulent robes the color of the sea, crowned with a fish headdress. She’d always reminded me of Sophie—her joy, her brilliance, the way she lit up the room with her laugh—and seeing the card now felt like a hello from my friend.

  “Oh, Soph.” My eyes glazed with tears as I traced the image on the card. “What am I supposed to do without you?”

  “Answer the door, girl.”

  Her voice echoed in my head again, mere seconds before a knock rattled the front door, startling the hell out of me.

  Great. Figures the demons would choose now to check in on me, while I sat here with damp, frizzy hair and no bra. At least I no longer stank.

  I grabbed a sweatshirt from my bedroom, tugging it on as I peeked out the front window, wondering which demon I should prepare for.

  But my visitor wasn’t a demon at all.

  Haley Barnes stood on my front stoop, coat pulled tight around her neck, eyes red and glassy.

  I opened the door, not bothering to hide my shock.

  “Gray,” she said softly, a smaller, more frail version of the girl I’d tangled with at Norah’s the other day. “Hi. I was hoping we could talk? I brought a lasagna.”

  She forced a smile and lifted her hands, showing off a glass pan covered in foil.

  “Lasagna? Seriously?”

  “I’m Italian,” she said, as if that explained everything. “When someone dies, we bring food.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just stood there, letting things get awkward.

  “She was my friend too, Gray,” Haley finally blurted. “So was Delilah. And now one of them is dead and the other is missing, and none of us knows who’s next, and our coven leader is sitting on her ass and letting it all fall apart. And this is my Nona’s secret recipe and I spent all day chopping and simmering and baking and it’s really fucking awesome. So if we could set aside our differences for one night and focus on what’s important, like eating good food and not getting killed, that would be super.”

  I liked her more by the minute.

  I leaned my head against the doorframe, considering her offer. “Did you say you chopped and baked? As in, from scratch? The old fashioned way?”

  Haley held up three fingers, scout’s-honor style. “No spells were cast in the making of Nona’s lasagna. The woman would rise up from the grave and beat me with her meat tenderizer if I even thought about using magic on this.”

  A whiff of the dish crept up to my nose, garlicky and delicious. My stomach rumbled, and despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “You should probably come in before Nona beats me for refusing her famous lasagna.”

  “Why did you send me to Jael?” I handed Haley a glass of merlot and settled in with mine at the opposite end of the couch. Saucy, cheesy goodness scented the air as the lasagna warmed in the oven, along with a loaf of Texas toast garlic bread I’d found in the freezer.

  I might not like her, but the girl knew the way to my heart.

  “A couple of months ago,” she said, “Sophie started having these strange dreams. They weren’t specific—more like emotional impressions, you know? Those feelings she’d get?”

  I nodded, trying not to bristle at the fact that Haley knew so much about Sophie’s gift, or the fact that we were talking about my friend in the past tense. Maybe in time I’d get used to that. I didn’t want to though.

  “Anyway,” she continued, “she said she felt like something big was coming, and that it had to do with you. She didn’t share much—she was still trying to put the pieces together herself.”

  I sipped my wine, letting her words roll around in my mind along with everything I’d learned from Sophie’s book of shadows.

  These cards aren't about me, Gray. They’re about you…

  “She made me promise that if anything happened to her, I’d send you straight to Jael,” Haley said.

  “Do you think she knew she was in trouble? Was someone after her?”

  “I don’t think so. She never said anything like that. I think she just wanted to be prepared.” She swirled the wine in her glass, then took a long sip, draining it. “So, did you talk to him?”

  “About?”

  “About Sophie.”

  “What about Sophie?”

  “Anything.”

  When I didn’t respond, she sighed and said, “I already know about the book, Gray. I helped her with the blood spell.”

  Again my skin prickled with the sting of betrayal, but I let it roll off. Deep down below the petty surface, I was actually glad Sophie had found someone to practice magic with.

  My own reasons for holding back my magic had never wavered, but that didn’t mean Sophie wasn’t allowed to change her mind. Clearly, she had. And as much as magic scared the living hell out of me on the best of days, I never wanted to stand in the way of Sophie exploring her heritage and connecting with her people, no matter how those people felt about me.

  “Any news on Delilah?” I asked, reaching for the bottle I’d lef
t on the coffee table and topping off our glasses.

  “Nothing. The cops wouldn’t even do anything until she was missing forty-eight hours. Whoever took her is probably long gone by now.” Haley shook her head, her eyes glazing with tears. “They’re such assholes sometimes.”

  Immediately I pictured Emilio and jumped to his defense. “Not all of them. Detective Alvarez is a good guy. He cares about the Bay, and—”

  “This is bigger than the Bay, though. Witches are turning up dead all over the world.” She told me about the communications she and Sophie had found at Norah’s. “Most of us would gladly fight for our sisters—I know my coven. But Norah thinks it’s too risky. As powerful as she is, she’d rather bury her head in the sand and hope everything blows over. Good strategy, right? Ignore the problem, and maybe it will go away.”

  “Yeah, that never works.”

  “Nope. Unfortunately, that’s the example she’s setting for the younger members.”

  I took another sip of wine. “You mean Reva?”

  Haley nodded. “She’s a runaway. Norah took her in a couple of months ago.”

  “She’s lucky, then.” I sighed, thinking again of all the young girls who ran away to the Bay, bailing on one horrible situation only to end up in another.

  Bean was never far from my thoughts, but she flashed through my memory now in vivid color, trembling in her unicorn hoodie, eyes wide with fear despite her own quiet bravery. My heart broke for her. I’d wanted so badly to help her—to save her.

  Instead, I’d cursed her. And as far as I knew, there had been so sign of her since.

  “I used to think we were all lucky,” Haley said, bringing me back to the conversation at hand. “Norah seemed like such a great leader. She helped us get in touch with our gifts, with each other… and now it’s like she’s just… I don’t know. Turning off the tap.”

  I was no Norah fangirl, and the woman was definitely hiding something. But I couldn’t fault her for wanting to lie low during an international witch hunt, or to try to protect her coven—especially young witches like Reva.

  “You don’t think Norah’s got a point?” I asked. “Maybe you should sit this one out.”