Guardians of Magic: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (Guardians of the Fae Book 1)

by Elizabeth Hartwell

  Fuck you. How about you say thanks every once in a while when I bust my ass and pad your fucking arrest docket and make the precinct look efficient, you asshole? The whole reason the Mayor’s going to kiss your ass is because of my work! I yell back in my mind at the voice, pretending I’m yelling them at the captain.

  The captain stops, shocked like I just slapped him in the face, and turns to me. Joe, who’s been listening to the captain rant, looks at us in confusion. “Uh . . . what just happened?”

  Great . . . you start thinking you can hear thoughts, and now you think you can send them too. Regular fucking text message service in your brain. Aren’t you convenient?

  Before the captain can say anything, another raging headache hits. My head feels like it’s about to explode, and my hands squeeze the sides of my chair, the wood feeling like it’s getting warm as something wants to crawl out of my skin.

  “Do you have something you want to say to me, Carter?” the captain rasps, his face redder than normal with rage.

  “You’re a real—” I start, giving zero fucks, but before I can continue, the ground shakes and half of the captain’s awards fall off the wall, a mountain of paperwork on his desk tumbling halfway across the room.

  The outburst shocks everyone in the room and even the captain’s a little shaken. “Must’ve been an earthquake,” Joe says, putting a steadying hand on my shoulder. “Captain, I think we should get going on the day, right?”

  The captain nods, still looking shocked. “Two weeks. You don’t have people in cuffs in two weeks, I’m yanking you two back to bridge duty. I will not have the mayor looking like an idiot when he’s pinning an award on my chest, got it?”

  “Got it.”

  The captain picks up his papers, his voice still shaky. “You’d better, or else we’ll have hellfire on our hands.”

  Out in the squad room, Joe and I get to work, but I’m worried. That felt like a lot more than just a conveniently timed tremor. No, it felt like it had to do with me.

  That can’t be though. Maybe it’s just the stress. Maybe I’m needing some time off after this case . . . but I just hope I’m not going crazy.

  “Hey, shake it off,” Joe says, grabbing his jacket. “Lunch is on me today, and we can hit the streets after that. Good way to finish off the week, right?”

  “Yeah . . .” I reply, grabbing my own jacket. “Good start.”

  Let’s just hope I don’t end next week in a psych ward.

  The fried chicken’s surprisingly good, and I nod gratefully when Joe sets a plate in front of me. “Hey, don’t worry about Cappy,” he says, sitting down and drinking some tea. “He’s a jerk, but he’s always been that way.”

  “Still . . . might as well have said I should be spending my days barefoot and pregnant. I should—”

  “Chill there, Eve. I mean, it’s good to stand up to him some, but calling him an asshole like you were about to . . . that might be pushing the line too much.”

  “He deserves it.”

  “No doubt, but you deserve to have a job too.”

  “Yeah, well, if I had a cock, the captain wouldn’t be pushing my buttons so much,” I reply, taking a bit of chicken. It’s good, but I’m still shaken at what happened in there. Am I really going crazy? Or is something really manifesting itself around me?

  I remember the warning from the four . . . whatever they were. Whatever they pulled last night, it’s nothing Paranormal that I’m familiar with.

  Joe checks his phone and grins. “Got another lead. The old Broadmoor place out near the east side of Old Haven. My informant says there’s a nest there, two or three vamps doing what he called ‘processing.’ I’m thinking of heading over.”

  “No,” I reply, wiping my mouth. “You know the street gangs in the area better than I do. They’ll have info we can work with. I’ll chase this lead down.”

  “You sure? There could be three of them.”

  I nod, chuckling. Joe’s right. NHPD policy is we stay together, but the 54th doesn’t always follow procedure. And with a two-week deadline, we need to push it a little. “I’m sure. I’ve got some bad feelings to work off, and it’s probably a bust anyway. I could use an hour of peace and quiet. Besides, sun’s still out.”

  It’s true. I can use the peace and quiet. My biggest headaches have been when I’m in crowds, and the old Broadmoor mansion is way the fuck up in the Old Haven Heights area . . . not even Old Havenites live there anymore. Which is why this is probably a wild goose chase. Vamps don’t like places so close to the woods. It lets the shifters get too close too easily.

  “Okay,” Joe says after a moment. “But you keep your damn radio hot, you got me?”

  I nod, touched. “No problem, Joe. I know you’re my guardian angel, even if you are late as hell sometimes.”

  Joe grimaces. “With the shit we deal with . . . I’m not sure angels exist. Just watch your ass.”

  Chapter 6

  The Guardians

  “Did you just feel that?” Tyler asks, his hand lifting from the constricting collar of his jacket to rub at his temple. “Her powers are growing more restless, more unstable. We have to capture her.”

  “Not yet,” Cole replies, scratching at his arm. Since having changed into what Jacob called ‘casual clothing,’ his skin from the waist up feels like it’s being covered with a thousand ants. He knows it’s just the fact that he’s wearing human fabric above the waist, but it’s still hard to get used to. At least his pants feel normal, although the shoes Jacob insisted on getting feel both too hard and soft at the same time on his feet.

  “Not yet?” Noah, who perhaps is suffering more than any of them, asks. His neck looks like it barely fits through the hole in his ‘hoodie,’ and his biceps are already straining the fabric. “Why not?”

  “She’s around too many humans. We have to get her alone,” Cole replies. “Remember, she works for the one group of humans who have half a chance of hurting us. They’re prepared for Paranormal powers. We can be hurt . . . even killed. So, we wait, and then we take her.”

  “I can’t wait for that,” Jacob says hungrily. Cole nods, understanding. His dreams last night were some of the most intense of his life, and he knew the other Fae felt the same way. It had been a long time since they had felt the comforting touch of a woman.

  “I’m sure you can’t,” Noah says with a chuckle, “but you need to learn how to last more than two minutes first.”

  Jacob snorts. “With what I’ve got, it only takes two or three minutes to make her see paradise.”

  “With your aim, I’m surprised you even hit your target half the time,” Tyler jokes. “You should learn how, then you can be one shot, one knockout, like I am.”

  Noah snorts. “You mean one shot, and she falls asleep from boredom. There are advantages to being hands-on, powerful, and having lots of stamina.”

  The three laugh, and even Cole smiles at the banter between them. He’d brag, but he knows that after his current self-imposed celibacy streak, his boast would fall flat. Besides, they had work to do. “If we don’t get tabs on her soon, her power will cause havoc. Jacob?”

  “I know. We could follow—” Jacob starts before they get interrupted by laughter. Looking over, they see a pair of women approaching, their youthful bodies somehow immune to the late fall cold by the amount of bare flesh they’re showing off. In Cole’s opinion, it’s slutty, not flirty, but human standards still escape him.

  “Eff eff ess, you guys are totally hot!” the one girl, a bouncy brunette with what Cole thinks are green eyes but upon closer inspection are obviously contact lenses, says. “Like, are you models or something?”

  Cole tilts his head, confused and amused. “No, I’m not an automaton. Why?”

  “She means you’re good-looking,” Jacob explains with a smirk. His habit of spending all his vacation time in the human realm had more than paid off, but it still left Cole feeling like an idiot more than once today.

  Cole nods, not sure what to
say. “Oh.”

  The brunette doesn’t seem to mind Cole’s lack of understanding, running a hand along his arm. “Feel these muscles, Cyn. Not even those gym Instagram models are cut like this. You boys up for some fun?”

  Noah, who’s currently fending off the other girl who’s also spending far too much time interested in his bulging musculature, nods his head. “We’re taken.”

  “By who?” the other girl, Cyn, asks.

  “Queen Cassina XI,” Cole replies automatically, stepping back from the brunette. It’s not quite a lie, although it could be seen that way. “Apologies.”

  “Who the heck is that?” the brunette asks. “And does she mind sharing?”

  Cole doesn’t exactly have a problem with sharing. All Fae are born with that ingrained in them, whether it’s sharing a woman or being shared. Still . . . it takes a remarkable woman to deserve multiple Fae as her lovers.

  Before he can respond, a commotion catches their attention from across the square outside the police precinct. A crowd of rowdy men is dragging a young man across the concrete, occasionally walloping him with a two-handled club that Cole remembers from his training days, a boy’s weapon but still deadly in trained hands.

  “We caught you, fucking wolf boy!” one of them yells, pulling a coil of rope from his jacket and throwing it over a light pole. “Now we’re going to teach all your kind. Don’t you ever put your filthy paws on a human girl again!”

  The boy struggles, but he’s seriously outnumbered and unarmed. The Fae watch as he’s cracked in the back of the head, noticing that there are police nearby who stand around, doing nothing to stop the soon-to-be lynching.

  “Enough’s enough,” Jacob snarls, reaching under his jacket for his knives. “He may be weakened diluted blood, but he’s still blood.”

  “Jacob, wait!” Cole snaps sharply. It’s an effort to subdue the instinct to help the shifter, but he knows it will only lead to trouble. Besides, other than Jacob, they are all on backup weapons, Cole only holding a silver knife along his spine. Ironically, Noah has the same type of club as the crowd, although his was enchanted long ago by the best Fae sorcerers. “Stay thine hand!”

  “He needs our help,” Jacob protests. Beside them, the two girls both seem to get the point of their conversation but are confused as to how to react. “We must help, by our own vows.”

  “It’s our job to keep peace and order,” Tyler echoes, battle lust in his eyes.

  Cole shakes his head, looking around and evaluating the scene. “But this is not Lunaria. This is the human world, and we have a much more pressing issue at hand. Let the authorities here handle it. Getting involved in human politics will only spell trouble for us.”

  “Wait, you four aren’t—” the brunette girl says, but before she can, there’s a roar of anger. The boy, who’d been limp and nearly lifeless as they went to loop the rope around his neck, transforms into a wolf before snapping his bonds and leaping away.

  The lynch mob, enraged, starts to run after him while the cops act like they see nothing. One of them, a particularly rotund man with a red face, sighs and picks up a donut from the cart at one end of the plaza and stuffs the whole thing in his mouth.

  “The authorities here seem to have forgotten their oaths. We should teach them a lesson, the honorless bastards,” Jacob seethes. “They sat there and watched. They didn’t even lift a finger until, oh, wait, one of them has decided to free the city from the blight of a loose rope tied to a light pole.”

  “It appears those who are different are not welcome in this city,” says Noah. He’s disdainful, a weakness of his once his anger is awakened. “That should bear watching.”

  Cole, taking the lead, draws his three friends with him away from the still curious and confused human girls and closer to the police precinct. “The wolf is free, and at this point he’s more of a danger to the humans than the other way around. As for the humans . . . they have become pompous and arrogant. They don’t deserve our help.”

  “Perhaps, but their arrogance reflects in Lunaria,” Noah rumbles. “Their penchant for violence leaks into our realm as well.”

  “And our penchant for joy and laughter leaks into their realm,” Cole reminds Noah. “Or do you forget the good times in this realm as well?”

  Jacob chuckles. “Cole, the only knowledge you have of the good times in the human realm have been by my tales. But yes . . . Woodstock was a lot of fun.”

  “Regardless of your memories, there’s one that is in much need of our help,” replies Cole just as Eve walks out of the police department. She talks to a dark-haired man for a moment before the two get in a car and drive away.

  Chapter 7

  Eve

  I feel the air ruffle my golden hair in the wind as I drive up the switchback road that leads to the Heights. The neighborhood used to be a bastion of money in Haven, where snooty old families who settled this area basically exploited the newcomers. They built testaments to their power and looked down on those below them.

  So, for these mansions to fall into disrepair and now be shunned simply because of how they’d ended up being geographically located near Old Haven after the Para Wars . . . well, at least something good has come out of all that mess.

  I don’t know what kind of trouble I’m getting myself into by going on this lead alone, but I’m happy to be away from the noise of the town, the open window on my department sedan letting in some fresh air and my head feeling better than it has in days.

  It’s the lack of buzz, the lack of voices, and because for the first time in a while, I’m not feeling a crushing anxiety knotting my stomach. Instead, I feel free and at ease. I would kill for this feeling of peace.

  I turn on the radio. There’s a song playing, an old country tune my adoptive mother used to love listening to. This was in the good days, between the first orphanage I don’t even remember and the tough times after her death . . . just after Alyssa was born.

  He was nothing but trouble. I knew it as soon as he walked through that door.

  My mind told me to run away, but when he smiled, I knew I wanted more.

  He took me for a ride, fast and furious. I almost lost myself.

  His smile was like the Devil.

  He’s a demon, a demon in the night.

  I shiver, shutting off the radio. Regardless of where I first heard them, that song, those lyrics, put me back in a place, a dark place that I always try to forget.

  “Do you have Alyssa locked in her seat?” Mom asks, putting the last of the bags in the trunk of her car. We’re packing light, but still . . . five people take a lot of clothing.

  “Yes, Mom,” I reply with only a hint of eye rolling. Seriously, I’m nearly ten now. I can fasten a four-year-old into a booster seat.

  Mom notices and gives me a smile. “You’re an angel, Eve. I’m so glad you came into our lives.”

  It still hurts to know someone left me on their doorstep all those years ago, but at least now I have two loving parents and a darling sister. I mean, what else do you call it when they take the state to court to keep the baby that was left on their doorstep even after Child Welfare put me in a home? Nope, I’ve read stories . . . and I’m sure the real thing is more Oliver Twist than what the state wants people to believe.

  I climb in next to Alyssa, my belt getting buckled just when the big car dips as my father, John, gets behind the wheel. Back in his early days, he used to play football at Arizona State, and he still has that size to him. “Ugh . . . I’m so ready for this. My back is already looking forward to it.”

  “Did you lock all the doors?” asks Mom, always a bit of a worrywart.

  “Yep, even checked the back door,” Dad says good-naturedly. “And triple-checked the gas on the stove. We’re all good for our trip.”

  I stick my arms in the air, Alyssa copying me. “Then Hawaii, here we come! I can’t wait to meet a surfer boy!”

  Mom laughs. “Eve, you’re not even a teenager yet!”

  “And I’m
already trembling on the edge of womanhood!” I protest. “I can feel—”

  “Womanhood!” Alyssa chants next to me, grinning. She loves to copy me and often serves as a reminder that even if Mom and Dad let me read things that might be a bit advanced for me, I don’t need to repeat them in front of a pre-preschooler.

  Dad looks up, giving me a knowing smirk as he shifts into reverse and we head toward the airport. Up front, Mom and Dad talk about grown-up stuff like Dad’s lumbago and Mom’s highlights while I sit in the back, poking Alyssa and causing her to giggle happily.

  “Just think, ‘Lyssa Bear,” I whisper to her, “nine hours of movies! We can watch all the cartoons we want!”

  Alyssa and I get so excited about the prospect of not having to listen to Dad’s comments about our favorite shows that I miss what is being said, but both of us fall silent when we sense something change up front. Things are . . . tense.

  “Did you work with Marissa yesterday?” asks Mom. I’ve heard the name before. Marissa is someone Dad works with at his job doing . . . whatever it is consultants do.

  “I did,” he answers quietly. “Why?”

  “What did you guys talk about?” Mom says, ignoring his question, which would get a stern talking to if I’d done that. Mom hates when I ignore her questions, but adults are weird like that sometimes.

  Dad grips the steering wheel tightly, looking straight ahead. “Anne, can we not do this right now? We’re heading to Hawaii.”

  “No,” Mom says, sounding angry. “I want to know.”

  “We discussed sales and marketing. There’s a job fair coming up that she’s responsible for.”

  “That’s all?” Mom asks as we come up to a red light. Dad stops us a little suddenly, my seat belt locking as I’m jerked forward.