The Family Spells: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance

by C. M. Stunich

  They were the only ones I owned, but …

  "Yep, this." I grabbed my matching purse and stared at myself for a minute.

  "Mom's a movie star!" Fey said, and I smiled at myself with red, red lips. I looked like one. Just a bit.

  "Definite overkill for mom's house," I said on the end of an exhale. "But I'm wearing this."

  It’s not for Hex though, I reminded myself, and then had to wonder why I felt the need to remind myself of that in the first place. Definitely overcompensating, wasn’t I?

  I gave my little family a coy look over my shoulder.

  The kids were looking at me like I pooped diamonds, but I could see all three men studying me with an interest that went beyond the shape of my ass in this dress. They wanted to know why I was dressing up for a visit to grandma’s.

  And that … that was a question I just didn’t want to answer.

  Not even for myself.

  "Goddess, I witching hate this," I murmured as I stood on the sidewalk outside my mother's house and stopped my feet in my fancy-ass heels. I was like, already sort of regretting wearing them. Fuck my life.

  "If Hex messes this up, I'll break his face. I think he's scared of me," Caine growled, giving my arm a little squeeze as I waited in the cold and the dark. Mom did not like tardy people. And let's face it: Abigail already had half her mind made up about Hex. Just being half-demon, just being Coven Wyrmwood, that was enough.

  I checked my phone for messages, but there was nothing from Hex.

  "He'll be here," Caine said, and when I glanced back at him, I could see that he was gritting his teeth. He turned his expression into a feral grin when he caught me staring at him, and I couldn't help myself: I had to reach my fingers up to tousle his dirty-blonde hair. "You've got me, suge," he purred, pulling me in close and encircling my waist with one, huge arm. "You don't have anything to worry about."

  "She doesn't have anything to worry about because I'm right here," Hex said, startling us both. I spun around to find him … in a suit. Like, he was wearing a full three-piece suit with tie and loafers, and his hair was all slicked back and … holy hats and cats.

  Man in suit plus tattooed hands equals perfection.

  I almost choked and died, right there on my mother's porch. It was a close one. Also, Hex had flowers. For a moment there, I thought they were for me, and I felt a hot flush creep into my cheeks.

  "I brought your mom flowers. You said you wanted her to like me. It's not too much, is it?" Hex asked, and Caine snapped at him, literally snapped. I could feel the fur sprouting from his chest and turned around to give him one of my looks. Being the High Priestess and the matriarch of the family sucked sometimes; all the power and all of the responsibility.

  "Don't."

  "He's an inconsiderate piece of demon shit." Caine narrowed his amber eyes on Hex, and twitched a furry brown and gray ear that'd just sprouted up from his head. He pointed at our demon soulmate. "You hear me, shit face?"

  "I'm inconsiderate for bringing flowers?" Hex asked, throwing his hands up and knocking several petals loose. But then he paused and looked at me, really looked at me, and sighed. "Look, I have a fiancée …"

  At this, his familiar, Connard, sat up on his shoulder and grimaced.

  “I told you she’d get the wrong idea with the flowers,” the cat began, but I was already over my momentary lapse in judgment.

  "Yep. I get it," I said, holding up both hands, palms out. "Look, I saw your reaction to our kids. Trust me, buddy, I am not interested in someone who'd rather run through a rainstorm than spend two minutes with my son."

  Hex opened and closed his mouth, but he didn't say a fucking thing. Good for him.

  Connard, on the other hand, decided to add, “oh, burn. She has a point, you know.” Hex snarled at him to shut up, but I was already done with the whole situation. Suddenly, I felt like an idiot for dressing up in a fancy outfit. I should’ve worn my usual yoga pants and tank, with no bra. Would’ve suited the evening better anyway.

  I lead the way up to the front door, and opened it, watching the wards to see how they'd react to Hex. As they did at my own place, they rippled and settled down happily, letting him cross like he was one of the family. Right.

  I hadn't forgotten how he'd wielded my charms, my magic, as well as if it were his own.

  “Well, hello there,” Bast purred as we stepped inside, crouching on top of an old grandfather clock. She watched us with big, yellow eyes as we passed.

  "Follow me," I said, as a chorus of screaming echoed from the family room area. All of the grandkids were corralled in there. I saw Hex peer in that direction, but the mass of writhing children must've been like a poison to his fragile male psyche because he recoiled like he'd been bitten.

  "How many, uh, kids do you have?" he asked as he followed me up the stairs.

  There was nothing casual about that question, and Caine snorted from behind us.

  "Twenty," I said, and Hex’s face paled considerably before he realized how fucking stupid that was. I mean, I hope that's why he narrowed his eyes and relaxed a bit. If he thought I was old enough to have twenty kids, then our not-relationship had other serious problems. "Four, including one set of twins."

  "Oh." Hex didn't exactly sound relieved. "Like, one for each guy?"

  I paused at the top of the stairs, one hand on the banister, and turned to look at him over my shoulder.

  "Yeah. Why? You want one, too?"

  Apparently, Hex didn't find my joke nearly as funny as I did.

  "I thought we were having dinner," he started, and then paused, wrinkling his nose up.

  I frowned hard, and tried to make myself smile, but it was difficult. Despite the charms, and the candles, the incense … Mom was starting to smell like a corpse.

  "Come in," I said, knocking on her bedroom door, and then pushing it open.

  Dad had set up a table in the room, with all the chairs on one side, so everyone could look at my mother while seated. My sister was already there, along with one of her husbands. Argent was seated next to Suze, and Caine was by my side while Spectre stayed downstairs to help with the children. My mother’s other soulmate, Calla, the knitting buddy I mentioned before, was there, too. She didn’t look any happier about the situation than my father did.

  The table was already set with food, courtesy of the coven, all the dishes dressed in silver lids. I highly doubted anyone was really going to want to eat tonight. When I'd dressed up, I hadn't realized how bad my mother had gotten in the week since I'd last seen her.

  I felt like an ass now.

  The only positive moment in this night so far was the way Hex had looked at me when he'd first walked up. I hadn't heard his motorcycle, so maybe he'd chosen another mode of transport? Trying to make a good impression, perhaps?

  I mean, for the sake of the spell obviously.

  "Mom," I said, clearing my throat as I stepped up to the edge of the her bed with Hex in tow. Fuck, is she even going to make it to Samhain? But casting the spell any earlier would be pointless as it'd be half as powerful. "This is Hex Witch, of Coven Wyrmwood."

  "Hex," Abigail said, lifting her chin in her usual, haughty sort of way. I’d heard from some of the other coven members that the Crone and the Maiden had visited her today. That couldn’t be good. I was hoping it was simply in reference to the demon visit at our shop and not my mom's failing health. I also knew I was full of shit. "I'm Abigail Witch, Mother of Coven Apothecary."

  I noticed a dark residue seeping into my mother's green and white dressing gown, just below her breasts. The rot was spreading and spreading fast. There was a very real possibility I was going to lose my mom.

  My throat constricted, and I exhaled sharply, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Hex looked at me with his orange eyes for an almost uncomfortable amount of time, and then offered up the flowers to my mother.

  "Thank you, Mother, for allowing me in your sacred space," Hex sa
id, and I gave myself a secret metaphorical fist pump. He lived with an old, powerful witch, and knew exactly what to say to please one. And I could tell by the way he looked at her that it was finally dawning on him how serious this thing was for us.

  Maybe he knew he was a selfish ass?

  "Take a seat," Abigail said, passing the flowers—purple roses, how appropriate—over to my dad. He magicked some water into a decorative vase, and tucked them into it. Hex followed me back toward the table, leaning over my shoulder and putting his mouth so close to my ear I could feel the heat of his breath.

  "You look beautiful, by the way. I don't think I said that before." I shivered and swallowed hard.

  "Don't say it at all, maybe." I sat down next to my sister, with Hex on one side, and we proceeded to have a dinner of delicious food corrupted by the taste of rot. It was so horrible and awkward, despite the candles, and the tablecloth, and the Halloween decorations my father had put up for the kids.

  No wonder Hex didn't want to join our family.

  This was some seriously heavy shit.

  It was probably a fuck of a lot easier to just accept the arranged marriage his coven had made and walk away from all this.

  After sitting in that room for two hours, I could seriously understand the appeal.

  As soon as we got home that night, I leaned over the toilet and threw up.

  I'm not sure I would ever forget that smell.

  How the fuck was I supposed to tell my fiancée that I wouldn't be staying long after I said I do?

  Violet was going to lose her shit, and Gram wouldn't be happy with me either.

  "You are so fucked," Connard said, sitting near my ankle and swishing his tail while he watched Lulu move around the kitchen. She insisted we have dinner together every Saturday, so here I was, waiting for Grandma to cook for me like I'd done since before I could even remember. "Tell Lulu first, and see what happens. She's less likely to kill you than Violet."

  "Thanks for the support, asshat," I muttered, just before Gram appeared and put a steaming plate of lasagna in front of me, with a little bread and salad on the side. She even ruffled my hair with her thin fingers, just like she'd been doing for thirty-plus years. "Thanks, Gram."

  Connard bit me on the ankle, and I gritted my teeth as Lulu cocked her head to one side, and stared at me with those all-knowing eyes of hers. The wrinkles on her face shifted as she frowned.

  "What is it, Hex?" she asked as I picked at my food and tried really hard not to think about last night, all those sad fucking eyes, and the desperation in Grace’s mother’s face, the stench of rot. Goddess' cunt! Gram had been right all along: I should never have gotten myself involved.

  And yet, there was some, strange part of me that was glad to help?

  I groaned and set the fork down, exhaling sharply as I rubbed at the magic mark on my wrist.

  "Gram, there's something I need to take care of on Halloween."

  "That's right," she said, her voice getting icy and curt all of a sudden. "A proper Samhain wedding as has been tradition for centuries. What could possibly be more important than that?”

  I held up my wrist, and my grandmother's face went as hard and angry as I'd ever seen it.

  "Do you want to piss Cabal Ungeist off?" she asked, giving me a look of fire. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. I focused my gaze on the decorative side table with all the old spell bottles on it, coated in dust and the scattered remains of dried herbs. It was easier than looking at Lulu’s disappointed face.

  "I'll be at the wedding. I just … won't be at the reception or the Samhain festival or … I'll be late to the wedding night." If my dick works by then, I thought with a small grimace. "I have to help with this spell for Grace."

  "Grace," Lulu said, exhaling sharply as she moved into the kitchen to grab her own plate. "This soulmate business is getting to you, isn't it? I thought you wanted to set your own destiny, forge your own path."

  "I can hardly do any of that when I've been roped into an arranged marriage since birth, huh?" I snapped, before I even realized what was coming out of my mouth. My grandmother's familiar, Ved'ma, jumped onto the table and hissed at just before Connard leapt up and hissed right back.

  "So you care more about some prophetic soulmate than the fate of your entire coven? You do realize that the Cabal will wage war on both Coven Wyrmwood and Coven Apothecary if you run off with that witch. Is that what you want?"

  "I never said I was interested in Grace, but I promised to make this spell happen for her." I lift up my wrist again. "I made a bargain."

  "Against my better advice," Lulu said with a long sigh, putting her fork down and massaging her temple. "This is a disaster, Hex. And all because of your insatiable need to plow everything on two legs."

  I gritted my teeth and stood up from the table, shoving the chair in so hard that it toppled over.

  The shittiest part about all of this was that my grandmother was right.

  I followed my dick wherever it lead me—even if that was straight into the fiery pits of hell.

  I somehow found myself outside Passionate Potions and Seductive Spells, staring down a row of jack-o’-lanterns that lined the sidewalk. There was a sandwich board out front advertising children's crafts, a carving contest, and a costume contest.

  This was probably the last place in the world I should be, and yet, this is where I found myself.

  I smoked a cigarette and watched families line up outside, some of them human, most of them not. By the time I was half-done with my third cig, that vampire dude was stepping outside to bum one off of me. He was dressed like a broomstick, with bristles on his head, and a wooden breastplate over his brown outfit. Dumbest shit I ever saw.

  "You used to sing for some local rock band, right?" I asked, and he smiled. Didn't say anything, just smirked. "I feel like I saw you onstage once." The way he stood there, it was fucking surreal, like he was a marble statue covered in ink. Only his hand moved. I'd never seen anyone but a vampire pull that sort of eerie stillness off.

  "Yep. Once upon a time." He continued to smoke, bending down to fix the top on one of the jack-o’-lanterns.

  "Decided to settle down?" I asked, and the guy—Spectre, right?—snorted.

  "More like got myself involved in vampire politics and the only way out was the coven." Spec stood up, finished his cigarette, and burned the butt to ash with a little magic. He was a good-looking guy, with dark purple hair, lavender eyes, and a buttload of tattoos. More than I had, I think.

  He suited Grace.

  A strange pang took over my chest, but I clamped down on it.

  The fuck was that? Like … jealousy or some shit?

  I shook it off, and started up another smoke.

  "Are you coming in?" Spec asked, holding out his hand toward the front door. He raised an eyebrow pierced with an ivory hoop as I took a long drag on my smoke, scraped it out on the sidewalk, and chucked it in the outside trash can. Even that was cute, with flowers growing out of all sides, vines crawling up and hiding the receptacle in foliage. "It's a green garbage bin," Spec explained with a chuckle. "Looks like a terraformed planet to me."

  He opened the door to the shop and stepped aside to let me in.

  I hesitated for way too long to be a normal, well-adjusted fucking person.

  "I'm not asking you to marry me, bro," Spectre added, and with a sharp exhale, I finally moved forward and into the sweet-smelling space. Connard trotted ahead of me, disappearing in the store in search of either food or pussy—I mean that spotted cat—I wasn't sure. "Your costume sucks, but we've got more in the back if you want to borrow one."

  "Uh," I started, but Spec was already disappearing behind the Employees Only curtain. I turned left, toward the sound of voices, and walked down the aisle where I’d found the table of sugar cookies before. This time, some of the displays had been moved and it was all setup with tables covered in pumpkin guts, colored paper, and paint.
r />   My worst fucking nightmare.

  "You're either doing pumpkin carving right now, or you're making puppets, Zavier. You can't do both at the same time." Grace pried a handful of gooey seeds from the palm of one of the twin babies I'd seen the other day while the fae guy squirted glue onto the paper cutout of a witch hat, dousing it in sparkles.

  Every single person in there looked up at me in near unison.

  So far as I could tell, it was just the family here: the four kids that Grace had mentioned, plus her three husbands, and her spotted serval familiar.

  At first I didn't see the werewolf guy, but then the bookshelf moved and I jumped, magic prickling at my fingertips. Holy fuck. The guy was half-naked and painted like a bookstore, so expertly that he quite literally blended into the wall.

  "Impressive, isn't it?" he growled at me, ruffling up the oldest kid's dark hair. I wondered how it worked, like if each guy focused primarily on their own kid. I mean, based on their lineage, they had to know which ones were biologically theirs, right? Did that make them fonder of one kid over the other? I had no idea. Most everyone in Coven Wyrmwood married for political gain, so they only ever married one person or things would get muddy.

  "I've seen that shit on Skin Wars," I mumbled, but really, I was sort of impressed.

  "You think I'm talented enough to get on Skin Wars?" Grace asked, taking a carving knife from her oldest son's hand and setting it aside. "Aww, thank you." She was being sarcastic, but I didn't care. As soon as I saw Grace, her mostly naked body painted in dark glitter like a fucking fae, I almost lost my shit.

  She was wearing pasties over her nipples, and very small panties with a loose, flowing skirt, but the rest of her skin was meticulously decked out in purple, lavender, and glitter, and when she turned around to grab something off of a shelf, I saw the most perfect wings painted in folds on her back. They looked like they might open up and take off at any moment.

  Goddess-damn, that is one gorgeous women, I thought as I felt my blood heating up, my cock rising to the occasion. I should've known better than to come over here. My skin prickled with goose bumps as she looked over her shoulder at me with those perfect green eyes of hers. Her long, red lashes were thickened with black mascara, her lids shadowed in glitter, her mouth full and darkened with black lipstick. Even her hair was braided in bones, like she'd just stepped across the Veil.