The Family Spells: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance

by C. M. Stunich

  She sighed, and I could see the disappointment written on her face, clear as day.

  She wanted this guy to be something. Instead, he was nothing but frustration and a headache.

  "I'm going," I said, grabbing my own hat off a hook and jerking it over my head. It tilted dangerously to one side, but it was heavy with spells. What did I expect? "If he meets me, he'll sure as hell want to steer clear of this family—and he'll want to do it amicably."

  "Just don't kill anyone," Argent drawled, but I was already flipping him off and putting my arm around Grace’s waist, burying my nose in her hair.

  This flaccid demon cocksucker was going to regret stepping foot in our store.

  The High Priestess of a coven was like … their ambassador. While the Maiden, Mother, and Crone were in charge, the High Priestess sort of ran the show. Like a store manager versus corporate. The Three made the rules, but the High Priestess enforced them.

  "I sent a little charm ahead to let her know company's coming," I said as we stood outside the wrought iron gate and examined the three story house with its adjoining apartment. Wisteria dripped from every surface while roses bloomed in myriad colors around the yard, drawing curious human gazes. Roses did not generally bloom in fall and winter.

  "Good," Caine said, his big muscular body warm and comforting behind me. "How do you think she'll take to you bringing guns to a knife fight?" I chuckled and patted at my jacket, feeling the cursed pistols beneath the fabric. These were not for the High Priestess or even the Asshole-cum-Soulmate I was dealing with, much as I wished I could shoot his balls off.

  No, these guns were for the demons that stalked the witches of Coven Apothecary. Our coven’s entire purpose was keeping those nightmares where they belonged. On the off-chance that we ran into one, I wanted to be prepared. I didn’t actively seek them out as much as I should, but I would defend myself when necessary. Maybe it wasn’t the way the High Priestess of Coven Apothecary should act, but … I cared about my family first, and my coven second—sorry. That was my life; I had my priorities set in stone.

  I liked things the way they were.

  Until this guy came along.

  I felt like he'd shattered a want I'd had for years, this desperate need to feel complete, to bring our soul-circle together, so we could create real magic. But at least I could get this one spell, right? At least I could save my mom.

  The gate swung open on its own, and I smiled. That was a clear invitation if I'd ever seen one.

  A pair of cats sat on the front porch as we walked up. One of them was crouching, watching us with dark eyes, relaying information back to her witch. The other was licking its crotch, clearly not interested in the comings and goings on the property.

  I gave that one a pat, and headed up to the door to knock.

  Three big clacks with the iron door hanger, and I stood back to wait.

  An older woman opened the door slowly, peering at me from underneath the brim of her witch's hat. I may have sent a charm to let her know we were coming, but for what purpose, she wouldn't have any idea.

  "Coven Apothecary," the woman said with a gentle smile. There was power in it though, in the easy widening of her lips, and the way she stood straight and tall and proud as she stepped back to let us in.

  She wasn't taking much risk doing so anyway. Only an idiot would attack a witch in her own home. Usually, our houses had as much personality and magic as we did. This one was no exception. I could feel the walls watching me, the floor taking my mettle through my feet. No, if I attacked the Coven Wyrmwood Priestess now, her house would make sure I never made it out the front door.

  "It's been a long time since I had a visitor from your coven. How's your mother?" The question wasn't meant to be loaded, but as soon as she said it, a vase slid off the mantle and broke into pieces on the floor. "Oh dear," the old woman added as she studied the broken glass and then glanced back to me. "That's why you're here then, isn't it?"

  "Well, Ms. Lulu Witch," I began, using a more formal title, as she gestured for Caine and me to follow her into her gloriously eclectic kitchen. Just standing there, I was reminded of my own grandmother, a powerful witch and an amazing teacher. She'd been killed in a vampire/werewolf/witch war years ago, and I still missed her to the point of tears at least once a week. "We're actually here to talk to you about your grandson, Hex."

  Lulu paused next to her stove, and turned her face slowly to look at me, her lips puckered in a small 'O' shape.

  "You're …" she started, and I smiled.

  She knew; he'd said something to her.

  "Oh hats and cats," she murmured, mumbling something under her breath. The copper tea kettle lifted off the stove and moved over to the faucet to fill itself as cups, saucers, and tiny spoons flitted out of the cabinets to set themselves perfectly at the table. "Here my grandson's soulmate is standing right in front of me, and I have no manners. Ved'ma, will you go get Hex for me, please?"

  Lulu's familiar shook her orange fur out, blinked dark eyes at us, and yawned before finally deigning to complete her task. She padded off as Caine and I took a seat at the table. I could tell he was seriously freaked-out by Lulu's house. Fur was rippling on the backs of his arms, and I got the feeling he was close to the change. So, to stave it off a bit, I stroked my fingers lightly down the back of his neck until he shuddered and closed his eyes, his fur melting back to tanned skin.

  "I hope you'll forgive my grandson," Lulu said as she took the seat across from us, resting against the high-backed purple chair with a sad but happy little smile. "He's a good man, but he's lazy as hell, and a little stupid."

  "Would you stop?" Hex growled, appearing in the kitchen dressed in a pair of loose sweats and no shirt. It was criminal how beautiful he was. I seriously had to choke back a sound of pleasure at the sight of his half-naked body. "You didn't have to invite her in, Lulu."

  "It's Grandma or High Priestess to you, son," Lulu said, and though she was only half-serious … she was fucking serious. I looked from her grandson to her … then back to her grandson again because he was seriously in the top four most beautiful men I'd ever seen in my life.

  And of course he was, right? Because he was my soulmate. A soulmate I'd never get to join my circle or my coven.

  I gritted my teeth as Hex came into the room and leaned his muscular arms over the back of a chair, narrowing his orange eyes at me. His dark hair was tousled and messy, and I saw just the peek of a little demon tail swishing behind him. I knew demons generally kept a melded appearance between their beast forms, sporting wings, horns, and a tail most of the time. Seemed Hex was favoring his witch side. I was used to that: all of my husbands favored their witch sides.

  All of my husbands.

  I scoffed aloud, drawing everyone's attention over to me.

  But really, was I thinking of this guy as a future husband? He was never going to be one.

  "What do you want?" Hex snapped, tousling his hair with his inked fingers. My eyes followed the motion and Caine snarled from beside me. Seeing me date other men just about killed him. Even if Hex was willing and wanting to date us, I wasn't sure if Caine would survive the addition of another man in my life. Him, or Argent.

  Sometimes, I tried to tease myself with the idea of my guys having other women in their lives. I'd just close my eyes and imagine it. It always ended with me sitting on the couch with a box of spelled chocolates, a glass of red wine, and a romance novel of the non-fantasy variety. Hey, when you lived werewolves, vampires, fae, and witches on a daily basis, you craved football players and rock stars. It was only natural, right?

  "What do I want?" I asked, feeling my metaphorical feathers get all ruffled. "What an interesting way to introduce yourself. Hi, my name is Graceley Witch of Coven Apothecary. And you are …?"

  "Hex Witch of Coven Wyrmwood," he spit out, but even though my hand was offered, he didn't take it. Fucker. I dropped it into my lap as Caine growled at him from over my shoulder.


  "Caine Witch of Coven Apothecary," my husband snarled, standing up from his seat. It did give me some pleasure to see that Caine was a good two inches taller than Hex. "Show my wife the respect she deserves."

  "You're the ones who came storming into my place," Hex shouted back, standing up and taking a step closer to Caine. The tension between the two of them swirled into a fierce storm, magic leaping across the divide to swirl my hair around my face.

  Just when I thought their staring might turn into something physical—or worse, something metaphysical—Lulu clapped her hands, and the magic whipping around between the two men drew into her fingers like lightning. She then wiped her hands on a napkin and began pouring tea.

  "Take a seat, boys," she said, her voice commanding authority. "And we'll sort this thing out."

  Hex took a seat right away, grumbling under his breath as he did. But Caine didn't care that he was in Lulu's house, that she was a high-ranking witch, or anything else for that matter. All he cared about was that I was his alpha female: my word was law.

  "Sit down please, Caine," I whispered before Lulu decided he was a threat and sent a nasty spell his way. She was calm for now, finishing up with the tea, and passing the creamer around, but I'd seen witches cast spells that could maim while getting their nails done. Never judge a witch by her cover or her demeanor.

  Caine complied, flopping in the chair with a growl on his lips. I reached over to squeeze his hand, and he squeezed mine back.

  "Now, help yourselves to some tea. It's delightful. We grow it in the coven greenhouse." Lulu swept her wrinkled hand across the table, indicating the cream and sugar. I politely made up my own cup, as well as Caine’s. I had a tendency to 'mother' my husbands a bit. Funny thing because I was sort of shit at mothering my kids. Most of my mothering consisted of me running around like a headless chicken while they screamed and cast minor spells, shifted, or drew on the walls with magic-infused pig's blood.

  Yeah, our house was a little … eclectic.

  I put the hot tea to my lips and noticed that Hex was staring at me like I'd sprouted tentacles. I cocked my head to the side as he looked at me, a bead of sweat trailing down the side of his handsome face. And fuck, was it a handsome face.

  Hex had a full lower lip, a light sheen of stubble on his strong jaw, and eyes the color of an October storm—orange with flecks of brown, red, and yellow, like autumn leaves. Ugh. I looked down at my tea as Lulu began to talk.

  "I know Coven Apothecary puts a high level importance on completed soul-circles," Lulu began, and I could just sense that Coven Wyrmwood disdain coming my way. I lifted my eyes up to look at her. She might be three times my age, and three times my power level, but I had to make a correction to that statement.

  "Nature puts a high level of important on complete soul-circles," I said, noticing that Hex was still staring at me like I was speaking some ancient, magical language. "There's a reason soul-circles can cast magic that the rest of us can only dream of."

  "Yes, for a small group of people, a soul-circle makes a big difference. But when discussing the health and longevity of an entire coven, sometimes we have to make different choices." Lulu glanced over at her grandson. "Hex has been promised to the Underboss of Cabal Ungeist since before he was even born. Maintaining a healthy alliance between the our two groups is vital, and producing heirs that share both lines … well, that's worth ten completed soul-circles."

  "You can only say that because you've never been in one," I told her, feeling the hot tingle of anger in my fingertips. Not good. My magic was reacting to my mood. Some witches could fly off the handle and not turn someone into a frog. Me, I was liable to set the whole house on fire. "Finding my soulmates was the most rewarding thing I've ever experienced."

  "Leading a coven to the forefront of the magical world was mine," Lulu replied, and while she wasn't being rude, I could see she meant what she said. I took a deep breath and did my best to maintain my cool. I'd never been good at controlling my temper, but when Mom first found out she was cursed last year, I had to learn quick. Can't run a coven of rowdy witches with an attitude problem.

  "I understand everyone values different things in their life." I looked over at Hex, but he was just fucking staring at me with sweat pouring down his face. I noticed his hands were buried under the table, and he looked like he was about to puke. "Which is why I came here, to make a proposal."

  "A proposal?" Lulu asked, glancing at her grandson again. It was becoming fairly obvious that something was wrong with the guy. "Are you okay, Hex?"

  "Fine," he ground out, closing his eyes. "Just give me the proposal and go home. I've got shit to do—like attending a dress fitting with my fiancée."

  As he'd intended, his words struck a chord deep within me. I felt my chest swell with jealousy and righteous anger.

  I damn near punched him in his flaccid junk.

  But, no. No. I held it together for my coven, my husband, and most importantly, my mother. She needed this spell. I needed her. I would get through this.

  "My proposal is this: you help me with some circle magic, and I leave you alone."

  Lulu snorted before I was even finished talking.

  "Circle magic, that'll leave him drained for what, three months? I'm sorry, Graceley, I have the utmost respect for Coven Apothecary, but—"

  "I help you with your spell, you help me with … that one we talked about first," Hex choked out, thrusting a sweaty hand my way. A pentagram burned on the surface of his palm, indicating a magical agreement. Without hesitation, I reached out and snatched Hex's hand.

  Magic flared between us, and on our both our wrists, a small circle of runes appeared, marking each of us as having entered a binding arrangement with one another.

  "Hex!" Lulu shouted as her grandson rose to his feet, giving me one last scorching look.

  "Leave your number; I'll call you," he said, sneering before he turned away and took off like a bat outta hell.

  Before he left … I thought I noticed him sporting a pretty big tent inside those sweats of his.

  Huh.

  But hadn’t he just inferred that’s what he needed help with? Maybe it was just male-related health problems in general?

  "I think it's best you leave," Lulu said softly, setting her teacup delicately on its saucer. I did the same.

  "Thank you for entertaining us," I said, holding back on my triumph until I left the property. No need to rub it in the High Priestess' face. Caine took my hand, and we left the way we came, out the front door and the gate.

  When I glanced back, I could see Hex watching us from his third-story window.

  I hoped like hell I wasn’t going to regret agreeing to this.

  Some part of me was pretty damn sure I was.

  My mother-in-law's house scared the shit out of me.

  "Remember when we fucked in the upstairs loft?" I asked and Grace rolled her eyes. But when I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, I could feel her pulse skyrocket. I ran my tongue across my lower lip and resisted the urge to taste her. But holy fuck, that long, pale line of her neck was intoxicating.

  "I wore this dress on purpose," she whispered as Caine raised his fist to knock, rapped on the door once, and then just let us all in without waiting for anyone to answer. Our two older kids—Zavier and Fey—darted forward, screaming, determined to meet up with their cousins in the backyard. Argent and Caine each had one twin tucked under an arm, both still in wolf form, as we moved into the foyer and closed the front door behind us.

  "Of course you did," I replied as Graceley showed off the glorious curve of her lower back. "As if these visits weren't hard enough." She gave me a look that I did my best to shrug off. Abigail might be sick, but she was still a bit of a hard-ass. I mean, I liked her and all, but she could be challenging to work with.

  "Keep your hard-on in your pants," Grace said, flicking her hair over her shoulder and giving me a wink. She'd been in a dam
n good mood when she'd gotten back from her meeting with Coven Wyrmwood today. I half-expected her to say we'd have a new man in the house. Didn't bother me much, but I had a feeling Argent and Caine would lose their shit if that happened. Fortunately, it looked like we were going to get our spell and get rid of the rude piece of shit in the process.

  Although … it didn't escape my notice that this guy, Hex, was also our soulmate. Even if we weren't physically attracted to one another's bodies in this life, his soul was inextricably connected to ours. Hell, in our past life, I could've been the woman and Hex may have been my lover. It's hard to say with reincarnation.

  "Should we go say hi to Mom?" Grace asked with a small sigh, reaching down to grab my hand. She threaded the fingers of the other through Argent’s and gave him a little tug. Caine, meanwhile, was busy handing over the twins to Grace's sister, Suzanna. She was part of one of Coven Apothecary's complete soul-circles.

  "Just put them in the pen with the others," Caine said with a little growl, raking his fingers through his mussy blonde hair and giving Grace a look. "Just make sure they don't end up as snacks."

  "Oh, please," Suze said with an exaggerated eye roll. "They're at least two months away from the snacking on their wolfy cousins stage." Suze’s kids were part were-tiger, and they were at least triple the size of our own kids. "But I'll be watching, no worries." Suze turned away, her red hair nowhere near as vibrant as Grace's. The family resemblance was there though, in the pert, slightly-upturned nose, the pale skin and freckles, the full upper lip and slightly thinner lower lip. But Grace had this perfect bow-tie mouth while Suze’s was flatter, more severe. Trust me: we'd had drunken debates with Suze’s husbands, and each one of us was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that our wife was prettier.

  Grace dragged me up the wide staircase with the flickering gas lights on the wall. Her mother refused to have the house rewired, and why should she? It was infinitely more fun to light gas lamps with magic, than simply flick a switch.