The Witch's Familiars: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (Harem of Babylon Book 1)

by G. A. Rael

  “You always remember,” she said, leaning in to kiss him. He remembered damn near everything she’d ever told him, which made it all the harder to keep her stories straight when it came to shielding him from Hermes. Hopefully that would be an easier task when she was no longer the demon’s plaything.

  After the most restless night of her life, Jordan had come to the decision that she was turning herself in. It helped that Hermes hadn’t come home at all that night. The fact that she missed him was all the more reason to sever their bond.

  After all, he had broken the only promise he’d ever made to her. He’d lied about Darren’s soul, about bringing him back, about everything. It was all based on a sham, and it wasn’t even a particularly enticing sham at that. Giving him her own soul wasn’t such a sacrifice when it had never really been hers anyway, but Darren’s was another matter. She wasn’t going to let him become collateral damage, and as much as she had reason to despise the only angel she had ever encountered, now that she knew whose team he was playing for, she had to hope that the others were at least somewhat more trustworthy.

  Sure, Michael wanted her power the same as Lucifer did, but at least he wasn’t just serving himself. If she could just reason with him, she knew she stood a better chance at getting him to protect Darren and Chase than appealing to Hermes’ lack of morality. Now there was just the matter of cutting the last thread tethering her to the living world. It was a world she knew now she would never truly belong in, not the least of all because she had been created to bring about the end of it.

  “What’s wrong?” Chase asked, pulling her onto his lap. “I can tell something’s been bothering you all night. Is Hermes missing again?”

  “He is, but that’s actually a good thing,” she muttered. As far as Chase knew, Hermes was just a cat who had a habit of running off, and if all went according to plan, that’s all he would ever be. She had managed to keep them apart when Hermes was in his human form and assured Chase that the cat had gotten his attitude from his “namesake” who happened to be visiting. “There is something I want to give you, though.”

  “Oh?”

  Jordan leaned over and pulled a sealed envelope out of her purse. When Chase reached for it, she held on. “This is for you, but I need you to promise me you won’t open it until tomorrow.”

  He frowned. “What is it?”

  “Just promise. Please.”

  “Alright,” he said, growing worried. “I promise.”

  Jordan released the envelope and he set it aside before moving his hands to her thighs. “Now you have me worried.”

  “Don’t be,” she pleaded, kissing him gently. Come morning, when he opened that letter, he would understand why he’d woken up to an empty bed. It was a coward’s way out, but she knew he would try to stop her if she told him she was leaving town and she couldn’t risk that he would tip Hermes off. Even when he was absent, the demon seemed to keep a close eye on her except when she was over at Chase’s place. Whether it was because he trusted Chase to protect her as her unwitting consort or because he harbored some inexplicable jealousy, she didn’t know. Either way, it might be her only opportunity to get away for a week. “It’s not important. I just needed to give you that before we enjoy the rest of the night.”

  “Enjoy, hm?” His hands drifted further up her thigh, caressing her hips through her snug jeans. “Guess I can’t be that much in the doghouse?”

  Jordan smiled against his lips. “You’re not in the doghouse.” If he was even capable of doing anything wrong, she’d yet to discover it. She slipped her shirt over her head, determined to make their last night together one that would at least somewhat dull the sting of the letter’s contents. “Quite the opposite.”

  “Now that’s good to hear,” he said, helping her out of her jeans. Their lips met again as Jordan unbuttoned his pants. Chase was nothing if not romantic, and their evenings together usually progressed at a slower pace, but her desire for him was second only to her need to forget what she was about to do.

  She stroked his shaft and relished the feel of him growing hard in her palm. His tongue dipped between her lips and he tasted as clean and crisp as ever. She rose to guide herself down onto him, already slick with need. She felt the familiar rise in her energy as their bodies became one and the magical union only enhanced the physical sensations.

  “Jordan,” he whispered, running his hands down her back as she bucked against him. Gone was the clumsy uncertainty she’d felt during their first encounter. She knew his body as well as her own now and when she was in his arms, it was so easy to forget the others she’d yet to meet.

  Moments like this, she cursed her fate the most. Sometimes she doubted whether she was whole enough to ever live the kind of life Chase longed for and thought her fit for, for some odd reason. Moments like this, she wanted nothing more, but it just wasn’t in the cards. He would come to understand that in his own way, and one day, she would be nothing but a bad memory of the one who’d got away. He would find someone who deserved his cheesy jokes and quiet devotion, and he would be spared the fate of belonging to a monster who didn’t even belong to herself.

  The only time he ever lost his composure was when they made love, and that was what made the experience so intimate. As he came, he filled her soul with fire and Jordan kissed him to drink down every ember. She moaned as her own climax followed and whatever exchange it was that took place between them ironically filled her with the strength she needed to leave.

  Long after he’d fallen asleep, Jordan rose and dressed quietly. She watched him for a moment, his face so serene and perfect in the moonlight coming in through his skylight. Her heart ached like she was leaving half of it behind, but she told herself it was better for him than sticking around to wait for it to be divided even further. He deserved better than all of this, and if giving him the chance to live out a normal life was a result of saving Darren’s soul, all the better.

  Jordan pulled on her leather jacket and shook her hair out of the collar. She left the letter on the nightstand and grabbed her purse even though she knew she wouldn’t be needing the practical contents where she was headed. There was just one more task to complete.

  The town square was empty for once. At least one ghost was about to be laid to rest. She walked toward Darren’s building and froze when she got the distinct feeling that she was being watched.

  Had Hermes tracked her down? He’d been inside of her mind once, so there was no telling just how far his surveillance reached. She walked faster until she heard someone move behind her and spun around to find herself staring at Max. His hands were shoved in his leather jacket, which was far more battered than Jordan’s. His eyes were even golder in the moonlight and he watched her with a serious expression that made him look much older than the twenty-seven years he had under his belt, according to Cindy.

  “It’s a little late, isn’t it?”

  “I could say the same for you,” Jordan said, folding her arms. “Do you make a habit of creeping around on women in the middle of the night?”

  His mouth turned up at one corner. They hadn’t spoken more than a word in passing since his attempt to reunite her with Darren at the festival and he was notably absent wherever she happened to be present at the events Cindy invited her to. Jordan couldn’t blame him for taking his friend’s side in the breakup, but he’d made it clear she was persona non grata in town as well. She was surprised he was being remotely civil now that no one was around.

  “Depends. Do you make a habit of creeping around your ex’s place in the middle of the night?”

  It was a fair question, to Jordan’s chagrin. Darren’s building was pretty much the only thing there was on that side of the street and she didn’t have any decent excuse for being there. “I was just heading home.”

  “Your house is that way,” he said, nodding down the road. “Aren’t you witches supposed to be good at directions? Calling the corners and all that.”

  “You know a lot about witch
craft for a normie,” she shot back.

  Max gave a husky laugh that should have made her skin crawl. It had the opposite effect. “Oh, baby, I’m anything but normal,” he taunted, making no secret of the fact that he was checking her out. “Too bad you’re Darren’s girl.”

  Jordan cocked an eyebrow. “Where do I even begin to address everything that’s wrong with that sentence?”

  He chuckled again and she reminded herself that punching a guy who was related to every public official in the area was not the best way to skip town without drawing attention. “If you ask me, he made the wrong choice. Allison’s hot, but feisty and curvy never gets old.”

  “How about a boot between the legs? Think that’ll get old?”

  He just stood there smirking and looking like the poster boy for every bad decision every good girl had ever made. “You should run along, Jordan. It’s not safe to be out alone at this hour, even in a town like this.”

  Jordan glanced up at Darren’s building and thought of the letter in her pocket. She had debated whether it was a mistake to even write it and figured this was the universe’s way of answering. “Whatever,” she muttered, turning to head back home. She had a date in the forest, even if she didn’t know who it was with yet.

  “Wait,” Max called.

  Jordan turned and waited impatiently. “What?”

  “That cat of yours,” Max said gravely. “Something’s not right about him. You should be careful.”

  Now isn’t that the understatement of the year? thought Jordan. The aptness of Max’s warning was second only to the randomness of it. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, walking back toward the house. This time, Max didn’t try to stop her. Once he was out of sight, she started to relax even though she was sure the sense of calm that had come over her was the same that passed over anyone who’d resigned themselves to certain death.

  With all her affairs in order, all there was left to do was face the piper. Jordan passed the house and walked deeper into the forest than she ever had. In fact, she made it so far that she passed the charred ring of earth that marked the first place she and Chase had made love.

  Guess this is as good a spot as any, she thought, kneeling down inside the circle. It had been the epicenter of demonic magic not so long ago. Maybe that would get Heaven's attention.

  As she settled on her knees and folded her hands, Jordan wondered when kneeling to pray had become a foreign act while kneeling at her altar had become second nature. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath that faltered on its way out with the realization of what she was about to call down upon herself. Even more terrifying was the prospect that it might not work at all.

  "Dear, uh, angels," she began awkwardly, "I know I'm not supposed to pray to you and I'm sure I'm not doing it right, but I figure I've already sold my soul to a demon, so this is probably just like a misdemeanor in comparison, right?"

  She opened one eye just to make sure no one was standing at the ready to smite her before proceeding. "Anyway, I really need to talk to one of you about Darren St. Clair's soul. There's been a mistake and I'd like to make a deal." She winced. "Okay, that sounded a lot less like extortion in my head than it did when I said it out loud. Let's try that again. I'd like to give his soul back, free of charge, as long as you promise to put it back together.”

  Jordan was silent for a long while, waiting for any sign that anyone was listening. Feathery bastards. “Come on. Nothing? I’m the Whore of Babylon, in case you guys forgot,” she yelled at the sky.

  Still no bites. Growing exasperated, she muttered, “Did you ever think maybe the other side gets all the action because their customer service is so responsive? I signed my soul away on a tablet, but after serving God faithfully for decades, I can't get as much as a peep on your end. How is that fair?"

  "In case you haven't noticed, life ain't exactly fair, little lady. What on earth made you think the afterlife would be?"

  Jordan jolted as a male voice with a thick Southern twang answered her vent into the void. She spun around to face what appeared to be a tall young man with his hands slipped into the pockets of a pair of snug blue jeans and a fitted plaid shirt that hugged his muscular torso. A narrow-brimmed hat covered his medium-length brown hair and completed the cowboy aesthetic he seemed to be going for. As he sauntered toward her, Jordan scooted back further into the circle, as if it afforded her any kind of protection.

  "Unless that's an Enochian banishing circle, I'm afraid it won't do you much good," the stranger drawled. He came to a stop in front of the circle and paused for a moment. A wide grin spread across his face as he made a big show of stepping inside, unencumbered. "That demon's smart mouth might've rubbed off on you, but it looks like you didn't pick up on any of his parlor tricks."

  "Who are you?" Jordan demanded, leaping to her feet.

  He took off his hat and held it to his chest in a gallant gesture as he came to a stop directly in front of Jordan. "The name's Samael, chief of the Watchers," he said warmly, extending his hand. When Jordan hesitated to take it, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to her closer. "All my friends just call me Sam. I was planning on paying you a visit soon, but I have to admit, I never thought you’d beat me to it.”

  "The Watchers?" she asked warily, stepping away from him again. She didn't buy the down home charm act for a minute. That was the thing about Southerners, whether they were angels or not. They could smile and pretend to be your best friend one moment only to turn around and stab you in the back without a second's hesitation the next.

  "'We whom God has set over the dead who rise,'" he said with an air of gravitas. "Or as I like to put it, Zombie Patrol. 'Course, the powers that be won't okay that for the official logo, but it's printed on our T-shirts and that's what matters."

  "Zombies?" she asked in disbelief.

  "Sure. The Book of Revelation took some creative liberties, but John got the gist of it. At the end of days, the dead are gonna rise up like a fresh crop of corn and the Watchers are around to make sure it all goes according to plan. Some bad ears pop up prematurely, though, your boyfriend being one of 'em."

  “Boyfriend?” It took her only a second to realize he meant Darren. “That’s uh, what I needed to talk to you about. But first things first, and please don’t take this the wrong way… Are you sure you’re an angel?”

  Samael's hearty laugh reassured her that she hadn't offended him. "You were expecting what, a halo?"

  "No, but you don't look anything like the angel I saw when I was young."

  He cocked his head to one side. "That so? What did he look like?"

  "Tall, blond, kind of pretty," she replied. "He was always wearing a really crisp white suit. At least, that was what he looked like in his human form."

  Samael did a double take at her last comment. "Excuse me?"

  "I only saw his other form once," Jordan said quietly. Once before her life had changed forever. "It was horrible."

  The angel laughed nervously, shifting his weight to his other side. "I think your imagination was playin' tricks on you, little lady. Only monsters have more than one shape. Unless you saw a demon --"

  Jordan pursed her lips. Lucifer certainly straddled the line, but she wasn’t sure admitting they were connected would do her any favors. “It’s not important. Can you help me save Darren’s soul or not?”

  “Save it?” He laughed. “You’re the one who brought him back!”

  “I know,” she said, feeling the heavy weight of the guilt that never left, even if she could forget it was there for a few moments at a time. “I know it's too late for me, but it's not too late for Darren. He's not a zombie yet, right?"

  Samael hesitated. "He's not a human, either. His soul is detached from his spirit and his body and it's getting further away as we speak."

  "I know, but I have it," she said eagerly. "I don't know where it is, but Darren's soul is bound to me since I brought him back."

  "Tell me something I don't know," he said, clearly unimpresse
d.

  "That's why I called you," she explained, "I know someone who does know where it is and I'll give it to you if you promise to put it back in Darren's body. Just let him go back to living his life the way he was supposed to and you can do whatever you want with me."

  Samael stared blankly at her for a moment before clearing his throat. "If you go around making offers like that, it's no surprise you ended up a demon's bitch."

  Jordan rolled her eyes. Even angels were typical men, it seemed. “Just put his soul back in his body and you can tell your boss you brought in the Whore of Babylon. I’m sure that’ll look great on your resume.”

  "Now who told you I could do a thing like that?"

  "A ghost."

  He sighed. "Those damn ghosts, always eavesdropping and passing on what they hear Upstairs without getting the full scoop. It's like a paranormal game of telephone."

  Jordan's heart sank. "She said the transformation wouldn’t be complete until the next full moon, so it can't be that hard."

  "Darren's body is only animated by demonic magic," said Samael. "More importantly, his soul is bound to a witch. Even if you release his soul to my care, the spell will be broken and his body will go back to rotting like it should have months ago."

  “And his soul?” Jordan demanded, trying not to panic. He had to be wrong. Natalie seemed so sure…

  "It'll be free to move on," Samael said matter-of-factly. "Once the soul and body are separated, that's it. Those two ain't gettin' back together again. What’s dead is always dead.”

  "And if the full moon comes and goes?" she asked shakily. "What happens then?"

  Samael's eyes narrowed, taking on the harsh quality Jordan had expected all along. For a moment, it was easy to believe he really was an angel. "Then he becomes an abomination to life itself and it's my job to make sure that doesn't happen. Look, I'm sorry you were led astray, but coming to me was still the right thing to do. Ferrying souls to the afterlife is kind of my thing. I'll make sure your boy gets there safe and sound. Otherwise, it’s a one-way ticket to hell for both of you.”