A Fey New World: A Reverse Harem Magical Romance (The Godhunter Series Book 32)

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A Fey New World: A Reverse Harem Magical Romance (The Godhunter Series Book 32) Page 10

by Amy Sumida


  “I am not the expert on all things Fey, High Prince,” Mallien said in a clipped tone. “Only raths and wards. This”—he waved at Pan, who had started to dance around the apple tree, hooves lifting high as he sang a song with lyrics that burned my ears and made me blush—“is beyond my ken.”

  “Where are my Nymphs?” Pan cried and waved his hand in the air.

  Beautiful women appeared in the grass around him, looking momentarily startled. Then they saw Pan. They squealed in delight and rushed him. Pan opened his arms to the ladies and they went eagerly into his embrace. Clothing flew through the air and something impressive rose from the furred region of Pan's groin.

  “Oh my goodness!” I turned around. “Um, we're still here, Pan!”

  The others, including Artemis, kept watching.

  “Hey!” I yelled at them. “He isn't in his right mind. Look away!”

  Rory cocked his head. “How is he doing that?”

  “I think it's the goat legs,” Patrick said absently. “They're bent the other way.”

  “Damn it!” I hissed. “Would you give the guy—” I broke off with a moaning cry as a wave of lust hit me.

  I stumbled. The men—all of them except for Pan, who was a little busy—turned toward me as if I'd screamed, “Who wants to have sex?” I trembled as things clenched and released inside me and my beasts rose to the surface to demand attention. Primal, mating attention. It was as if all three of them went into heat at once. The air went thick with pheromones. Not just mine either; I scented all of the males and my body responded like a kid in Willy Wonker's edible garden. I fell onto my hands and knees, my back arching in need and my sex instantly drenched.

  The only bright side was that my husbands reached me first.

  Hands roamed over my hot skin. A mouth covered mine. My tongue met another eagerly. Someone undid my jeans and yanked them down to my knees along with my panties. Fingers massaged my breasts, rubbed my sex, and slid through my hair. Hard shafts brushed against me. I couldn't think straight. Couldn't focus. I wanted all of them in me at once. Needed it. Was on the verge of begging for it. But then I saw Austin's face looming over the backs of my men. His eyes were full of fear and lust as he undid his belt. It was such a strange combination that it shocked me out of my insanity.

  “Stop!” I screeched and pulled up my panties. I rolled onto my back and kicked out, dislodging my randy husbands as I jerked up my jeans. “Torrent! Torr, get Artemis out of here!”

  A moan was his only response.

  I lurched to my feet and saw Artemis, spread beneath Torrent and the fey men, including the High Prince. She was reaching for them—all of them—and they were pawing at her and pulling at her clothes.

  “Stop!” I shouldered my way through my confused men and barreled into the huddle of bodies over Artemis.

  I wasn't nice about it. I punched and kicked and pushed until I had my arms around Artie. Then I clutched her tightly and traced us away—trying my best to ignore the way she groped me.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Great Olympus!” Artemis cried as we stumbled out of the tracing room at Pride Palace. “What the hell was that?” Her hands jerked away from me and went to her flushed face.

  “That was fertile faerie magic inside the God of the Wild,” I panted. “The apple must have magnified Pan's lust and shared it with us.”

  “Artie!” Torrent came running out of the tracing room.

  “I'm here!” Artemis met him halfway.

  The couple embraced in trembling relief as the other men came rushing into the room after Torr—mostly everyone.

  “Are you guys okay now?” I asked even though I knew the answer. All of the lust had left me as soon as I traced away from Pan.

  “We're fine, Carus,” Azrael said as he embraced me, his breath evening out. “Are you okay?” He pulled back to look me over. “Did we hurt you?”

  “No, I'm fine. Did someone grab Austin?”

  “Yes, Ma'am,” Austin was leaning against a wall as if it were the only thing holding him up. “Thanks, Kirill.”

  “Da, no problem.” Kirill nodded at him.

  “Sorry about grabbing your boob, Vervain,” Artemis grimaced at me from the safety of Torrent's arms.

  Torrent—like all the other men there—perked up and looked from Artie to me.

  “You can just erase those pictures popping up in your heads right now.” I pointed at them like a mommy, then looked around. “Wait.” I looked over our group and narrowed my eyes. “Where's Thor?”

  “One of the Nymphs got him,” Trevor said with a wince. “He nearly fried me for trying to pull him away from her.”

  “He'll be fine.” Odin waved off our concern. “Thor could use a little... well, a lot of... nymphness.”

  “Of what?” Mr. T asked as he came out of the dining hall with the rest of the Squad.

  “What happened?” Morpheus demanded.

  “We ran into a bit of a problem,” I muttered.

  “A bit of a fuckin' problem?” Austin asked as he pushed off the wall with astonished affront. “I mean, it definitely involved fuckin' but callin' it a problem is like callin' a tornado a stiff breeze. And, by the by, I was there, but I still don't know what the fuck is going on.” Then he added, “If y'all will pardon my French.”

  “I don't think any of those were French words,” Torrent said in bewilderment as he finally released Artemis.

  To the Squad who was still waiting for an explanation, I said, “We thought Torrent was destroying the magic but it was just relocating. It went to Texas—to that house where the Adroanzi holed up.” To Austin, I added, “The faerie magic is wild and very fertile right now. At least the magic on Earth is. When Pan ate the apple, he must have taken that magic into himself and it had a... violent reaction. Either that or the apples just make people really horny.”

  “What did that idiot do now?” Horus huffed.

  “He ate an apple from a tree that had grown in a patch of faerie land. Then he changed into this massive goat-man, summoned his Nymphs, and started... frolicking.” Trevor grimaced and ran a hand over his face in embarassment. “A wave of lust swept out from him and hit the rest of us and, well, let's just say it was lucky that Vervain had enough sense to grab Artemis and get the hell out of there.”

  “You moron!” Horus snarled as he searched for Pan. “What would prompt you to... Hold on. Where is the moron?”

  “We had to leave him behind,” Viper said. “And Thor.”

  “You left Pan in a patch of faerie land?!” Horus roared. “With Nymphs and magic apples?!”

  “They're not being hurt,” I assured Horus. “And the property is unoccupied so they shouldn't be interrupted. Hopefully, they'll come out of it soon.”

  “The keyword being come.” Finn snickered.

  “I kinda wish I'd gone now,” Morpheus said to Finn.

  Finn nodded in agreement. “Maybe no one would notice if we just sort of sidled slowly to the tracing room.”

  “I didn't have any control,” Austin whispered in horror, his outrage fading as his mind processed everything. Then he looked at me. “Vervain, I'm so sorry. I was fixin' to—”

  “I know, and it was your expression—part horrified and part aroused—that snapped me out of it,” I cut him off. “You have no reason to apologize. Even under the sway of powerful magic, you held onto enough yourself to know you were doing something wrong. That's impressive, Austin, especially for a human.”

  “It doesn't feel impressive, but thank you,” he muttered. “I don't s'pose you got some whiskey handy?”

  “Yeah, I think I have something fit for human consumption in the kitchen,” I said as I herded our group into the dining hall. “And I could use a drink too.”

  “But what about Pan?” Horus demanded. “We can't just sit here and wait for him to come to his senses. That will never happen; that fool has no sense.”

  “It will wear off soon, I'm sure,” Odin said as he pat Horus on the shoulder. “He on
ly had two bites.”

  “Is that normal for fey apples?” Viper asked. “I mean, do they normally affect someone's magic when eaten?”

  “No,” Arach said firmly. “They do not.”

  “The magic is functioning under its own laws now,” Mallien murmured, obviously shaken. His long, dark hair was wild around his shoulders and his eyes had lost their glamour, revealing their true color—fiery orange.

  “That apple was pure fey magic,” Lugh concluded.

  “Pure magic.” I stopped and looked back at Odin. “If this gets out, if gods find out that faerie apples can increase their power, they'll be swarming every apple tree that appears.”

  “We need to get back there and ward that land,” Odin said urgently.

  “Not while Pan is romping all over it,” Azrael crossed his arms and refused.

  “But we can't leave him there alone,” Horus argued. “What if a god senses all of that magic and investigates? Pan is vulnerable and you left him there without any protection!”

  “Pan's going to be real upset about having no protection with all of those Nymphs,” Finn said to Morpheus and they chuckled together.

  “One more joke, swan-boy, and I will roast you with sunlight and serve you on a silver platter,” Horus snarled at Finn as his single, golden eye flared.

  Finn gulped

  “Anyone who gets close to Pan will likely be drawn into the orgy before they can hurt him,” Trevor pointed out. “They'll be fine.”

  “No, Horus is right.” Odin rubbed at his clean-shaven chin. “We need to put a ward around them as soon as possible. Wards conceal and keep people out, not hold them in. At least, not generally. We can set the ward and they'll still be able to leave once they're... finished.”

  “So, who's going to go back and set the ward?” I asked in a tone that clearly said it wouldn't be me.

  Finn and Morpheus raised their hands.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mr. T and Tsohaonai went back to ward the faerie land and kept far enough away that they weren't affected by the lust magic. They refused to speak about what they'd seen after they returned—no matter how much Finn and Morpheus begged—but their haunted expressions said it all. While they were gone, I contacted a real estate agent in Lexington and made an offer on the Wilson property. I figured that the situation was partially my fault and therefore my responsibility.

  Then the God Squad started brainstorming. We argued well past midnight but finally gave up for the evening when we failed to find a viable solution. The gods went home and our visiting faeries were shown to guest rooms. Pan and Thor still hadn't returned when I finally went to bed.

  In the morning, I woke up surrounded by men who had passed out on our massive bed around me instead of climbing the stairs to their tower rooms. I extricated myself from the man-pile and started my morning routine.

  Since my husbands were so tired, I got dressed, then went up the tower stairs to wake the children. After they were clothed, we went down to the master bedroom and crept out to the elevator, giggling to each other as we passed the bed full of sleeping men who were making all of the sounds that sleeping men make and a few that sleeping animals make as well. We made a pit stop at Samantha and Fallon's apartment to sneak in and grab Zariel. I left a note for Zariel's parents so they wouldn't panic when they woke up to find their daughter missing and then the gaggle of kids and I giggled our way out of there as well.

  We headed down to the kitchen holding hands, our conspiratorial glee compelling us to swing our arms as well. If it hadn't been so early, we might have sung but since it was, we satisfied ourselves with the swinging. No one was in the kitchen yet, it was too early for most of my lions, but I knew they'd be creeping in soon so I got the coffee going in the industrial coffee pot, then started my tea. For food, I pulled out a few boxes of Cinnabons from the freezer. I microwaved them, stuck them on a plate, and slathered them with extra frosting. It had to be done—all of the frosting had melted in the microwave.

  “We're going to tell Uncle Re that we made these,” I said conspiratorially to the children. Then I went stern. “This is just for fun. Never lie to your Mommy or Daddy, got it? You get to misbehave only under parental supervision.”

  “Yes, Mommy,” Lesya and Vero said.

  “We know, Aunty V,” Zariel said at the same time.

  Then they giggled their little butts off.

  “Okay. Lesya and Zariel, you take these to the table.” I handed them each a platter of cinnamon buns. “Vero, can you carry these plates?”

  “Yes, Mommy,” Vero assured me as if he were accepting an impossible mission. I half expected music to start playing.

  I smiled after the kids as they headed through the swinging door to the dining hall. Then I gathered our beverages—juice, water, and tea. The men could get their own drinks when they came down. I didn't want their coffee to get cold. I passed out the drinks, doled out the desserts—I mean breakfast rolls—and we set to demolishing the food like the savage beasts we were.

  The children had frosting faces and sugar-enhanced smiles by the time the Intare, our guests, and my men started to make their way downstairs. Re expressed appropriate astonishment and awe over culinary skills but when he went on to note how much the rolls resembled those he'd seen in the mall once, the children broke and their giggles served as a confession. I sighed and shook my head at the horrible liars, then took them into the kitchen to wash up before releasing them into the wild—AKA sending them outside to play. I was about to follow them outside with a cup of tea in my hand when Aidan—in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts—came running into the dining hall with a laptop.

  “Tima!” Aidan screeched as he ran toward me. “You have to see this!”

  Aidan deposited his laptop on the table and we gathered around it. Aidan tapped the laptop and the screen came to life, playing a news report. The reporter stood among a jostling crowd, before a taped-off area. She looked as if she were trying to be professional but her blue eyes were as round as golf balls.

  “All over the world, places like the one behind me have appeared, seemingly overnight,” the reporter announced.

  The camera zoomed in on the crime scene tape and went beyond. The breath stuttered in my throat. I set my tea down heavily beside the laptop. Beyond the tape was another patch of faerie land. In its center was a grove of trees—thankfully not apple—but that was all there was to be thankful about. The area was larger than the one in Lexington and had more than mere plants within it. Amid the trees, shards of crystal shot from the ground to gleam with opalescence. None of the places we'd been to had crystal formations. This meant that it was a new location; probably another place where the magic had retreated to.

  “Hold on,” I murmured. “I know that place. That's a botanical gardens in Hawaii. I died there once.”

  “You what?” Viper asked in horror.

  “I got better,” I muttered. “Long story.”

  The camera had panned out, showing groups of police officers, people in dark suits, and some in white lab coats. They bustled around the edges of the fey land. A few of the scientists were collecting samples with leather gloves to protect themselves from the stabbing grass—which the cameraman zeroed in on before panning out again. A tent was set up to the side and professional people hurried in and out of it, trying their best to look calm and controlled when they must have been freaking out.

  “As you can see, the plant life in these places is not just unusual in appearance but also behavior,” the reporter went on. “They react to stimulus in ways that normal plants do not. Some react quickly and quite violently, almost as if intelligent. Scientists are even now studying these strange areas and hope to find an explanation soon for the sudden growth of these plants and the plants themselves. They—”

  The reporter was cut off by the sound of shouting and the camera jerked up and focused on the grove of trees just as something stepped out of them.

  “Oh, floppy french fries,” I whispered i
n horror.

  The humans went silent in awe as a stag with a pure white hide and golden antlers stepped regally forward, lifting his head and cocking it to look at the crowd. He might have passed for a regular stag, even with those metallic antlers (someone could have gilded them after all), if not for his eyes. They glowed blue.

  “It's a burol,” Arach murmured. “Their eyes only glow when they're frightened. He's going to—”

  Before Arach could finish the statement, the male burol bolted, leaping over the crowd in a jump that any Olympian pole vaulter would have envied. Flashes of light went off as people tried to take its picture and our cameraman followed the poor animal's flight eagerly. It hit the ground gracefully and ran into the woods beyond, disappearing in seconds. A group of scientists chased after the burol with several reporters, including ours, following in their wake. The shaky footage cut off suddenly and was replaced with a stable scene of the reporter—hair and clothes mussed—as she stood in front of the faerie land again.

 

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