The Family Spells: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance

by C. M. Stunich

  "Here," Spec said, shoving a bundle of clothes at my chest. "These should fit you just fine."

  I picked apart the outfit … and found that it was a 'demon' costume, with tiny, fake wings, a long tail, and plastic horns.

  "Hilarious," I said, tucking it under my arm. No flipping witch fuck was I putting this on.

  "You're a little early," Grace said, nodding at me as she tried to control the wild flinging of paint by her twins. They had brushes in their hands and seemed more interested in putting color on their skin rather than on the paper in front of them.

  Heh.

  Maybe they'd learned that from their mother?

  "Put the costume on and I'll paint you up. Won't be as fancy as any of this, but we should be able to get some good color on you before the official judging." Grace pulled out the chair between her twins and her eldest son. "Put it on, take a seat, carve a pumpkin."

  I hesitated for a minute. I didn't like kids. Not at fucking all. But I knew as soon as I was done here that I'd have to go over and see Violet, explain the wedding situation to her. I was so not looking forward to that.

  "In about … an hour, we'll open the doors to the public, and it'll be a madhouse in here. And then after the judging and the goodies and the crafts, we're heading out to the pumpkin patch for a night walk." Grace met my eyes, and I felt this zing hit me, like I was being struck by lightning. It was … I'd never felt that way before, not even once. When I looked at her, it was like I was being swallowed up in the best-worst way. I could drown in the spring green color of her eyes, and I'd die a happy fucking man.

  Shit.

  Even if I did like Grace, or had some interest in joining her weird harem of husbands with their million kids … I couldn't. I couldn't date her, couldn't fuck her, could hardly be her friend.

  Come Samhain, Coven Wyrmwood and Cabal Ungeist would be joined together, and I'd be husband to the new High Priestess of both the witches and the demons. I'd be expected to give her an heir, too—and quick. So I better play along with this and get my dick working again, right?

  That's the only reason I was here anyway.

  Selfish fuck, I chastised myself as the werewolf guy pulled open another curtain and pointed down the hall.

  "Bathroom's down there," he said, his voice like gravel. Guess that was just the way the dude talked. I skirted past him, and I swear to Hecate, the man sniffed my shoulder. I growled at him out of instinct, and he growled right back.

  "Fucker," I mumbled, moving down the dark hallway and pausing when I came across a row of pictures. The first one was of Grace and the fae guy, Argent, snuggled up under an arch made of hay bales, orange pumpkins everywhere. The next one was of her, Argent, and Caine. Then along came Spectre. The next few pics included the kids.

  I wonder what it'd be like to be in the next picture? I mused, but only for a second. Just for a split-second. Children legit grossed me out, and there was so much baggage coming into a family like this. I'd never fit in. I'd forever be an outsider here.

  Scowling at myself, I headed into the bathroom, slipped into the stupid costume, and opted to keep my jeans and boots on. Not about to rock a pair of red undies when my dick was perma-hard with Grace around.

  I folded my shirt up and chucked it on top of a locked cabinet, heading back to the craft table and taking the chair Grace had offered up to me. The little girl—dressed up in black and yellow like a bee—hopped into my lap. I did my best not to curl my lip.

  "You're a bee, huh?" I asked, trying to be nice. But the kid turned the most horrible look on me, her black wig sliding back on her head to show off mint green hair. Ah, this was the fae’s child then.

  "Not a bee, a wasp!" she shouted, right in my freaking ear. I shivered and picked up the popsicle stick with the witch hat on it. It looked … like a mess of glue and sparkles to me. The kid took it from me and set it aside, and then put a blank orange pumpkin in its place. "Angry face." She pointed at the paper like she expected me to take care of her every whim and desire.

  "Angry face, huh?" I said, taking the glue and drawing a big frown on the paper. I put little slits for eyes, and dots for the nose. "What's her name?" I asked Grace, and she smiled with her plump black-painted lips in a way that did all sorts of funny things to my insides.

  "Fey." Grace laughed, this husky, throaty sound, like a fucking goddess. If I found out she was Hecate reincarnated or some other crazy ass shit, I would not be surprised. "I know, so original, right? But her middle name is Gentry." Grace chuckled again, and Argent made a scoffing sound from my other side.

  "Gentry means faerie, too, doesn't it?" I asked, and Grace nodded, shrugging her shoulders. Her skin glittered with every movement she made. I couldn't get enough. Fey made a sound of annoyance in her throat, and I turned back to our project. She touched several bottles of sparkles, and then handed me three different colors: red, green, blue. The most un-Halloween like colors known to man.

  I dutifully sprinkled them all onto the pumpkin as Fey picked up a glitter pen and scribbled something that looked like an attempt at the English language onto the wooden stick.

  "All done," she said, picking up the still-wet pumpkin. Glitter showered down over her hand and across the table. I saw the lip quiver long before the tears came.

  "We get to add more glitter now, so that’s cool, right?" I said, grabbing the pumpkin and putting it down on the table. I picked up the black glitter and sprinkled it across my shitty jack-o’-lantern face. Fey stopped the almost-fit as Grace passed over a blow-dryer, and I turned it on low. The kid put her small hands over mine as I carefully dried the glue on her project.

  "All done," she repeated, picking the pumpkin up in her left hand while she took the witch hat in the other. She then started making weird voices, presumably as the two puppets started to talk to each other. Oooookay. Right.

  "Do you want to carve a pumpkin?" the little boy asked from my right. He passed over a plastic scooper as Fey slid off my lap, taking her treasures with her. Within the span of a second, I had the boy sitting on me instead. Grace watched this all go down with half-lidded eyes. Fuck, seeing her look at me like that … I was torn between excitement and terror. Like, I both wanted her to stare at me that way forever, and I felt like I was being trapped in a web.

  "Yeah, sure," I said, taking a knife off the table and cutting the top off. The kid and I pulled out the guts and seeds with our hands, using the plastic scooper on only the most stubborn bits.

  "This is Zavier," Grace told me proudly, tousling the kid’s hair just as the two twin babies shifted almost simultaneously into wolf puppies. She sighed, but the werewolf prick was there in a second, lifting them up from their chairs as they howled and brought goose bumps up on my arms.

  This must be the vampire's kid then, I thought, but the guys seemed pretty comfortable swapping kids, like maybe there wasn't much delineation between whose was whose.

  Zavier and I each took a pen, and he drew the eyes while I did the mouth. It was about as shitty looking as my paper-glitter project, but I was fucking weirded out to realize that … I was enjoying myself. I was having fun.

  It'd been decades, literal decades, since I'd done anything like this.

  When we finished the pumpkin, Grace got a small black candle, and we went outside to light it. She did a little spell to keep the wind from blowing it out, and I glanced back at the line that'd formed outside the store.

  "Spec and Argent will have the craft station cleaned up in a jiff, and we'll open the doors." Grace re-lit a candle on another jack-o’-lantern and cast the same spell. People watched and whispered, but Graceley didn't seem to give a shit. Not that she should anyway. Humans had a hard time believing things that happened right in front of their own faces. "Are you gonna stick around for the night walk?"

  I stood up and glanced over at Grace, the breeze tousling her glittery hair. She'd used magic to dye it a silver-lavender color to match her costume. The thing about that color
, though, was that it reminded me of Violet—my fiancée.

  And even if I hadn’t chosen her, even if I didn’t … well, she was still my fiancée. I had a responsibility to tell her my plans regarding the wedding. She didn't know a damn thing about this bargain I'd made with Graceley. It wasn't right. I might’ve been a douche, but I wasn’t a total waste of life.

  "I …" I started as she tucked some hair behind her ear. It had a pointed prosthetic on it, making her look more like a fae. Grace’s green eyes met mine as Zavier sucked on a ghost-shaped lollipop and waved at the kids in line. "I should probably get going …"

  "Stay!" Zavier shouted, grabbing onto my fake demon tail and giving it a yank. “Please!”

  "I can paint you?" Grace added, giving me a small, sexy quirk of her lips. "The guys have a routine all figured out for tonight. I'm usually so busy during these things that I forget to enjoy myself. This year they made me a deal: we could have our little Halloween event, but I'm not allowed to do anything but have fun."

  "And you think painting me would be fun?" I asked, my voice dropping to a low, husky, flirtatious tone without my even meaning it to. Shit, shit, shit. What am I doing here?! My cock stirred in my jeans, and I had to choke back a sound of frustration.

  "I think it could be fun, if you relaxed a bit." Graceley reached out and gave my bare shoulders a massage. Ugh. It felt so damn good that I let out a groan, and several people in line giggled.

  "Come," Grace said, taking my hand and pulling me back toward the door. Zavier took my other hand, and before I knew it, I was being pulled into the web of the Family Spells.

  My brush teased across Hex's tattooed muscles, and I had to make sure I made a conscious effort to keep my mouth closed, and the drool off of my lips. If I started foaming at the mouth because he had nice nipples, I'd never live it down.

  This is just temporary, my brain told my body, but now I'd seen him with my kids and my ovaries were going nuts. I was losing my shit. Hex had made it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with my family. Besides, he had a point: he was engaged to the daughter of a very powerful demon cabal underboss.

  If he broke that off, it was war.

  None of us could afford that.

  So I made myself okay with the fact that he could never be mine, and enjoyed painting him with my brush while customers gawked, and kids lined up on the mini-stage that Caine had built for the costume competition.

  "Where's this night walk thing taking place anyway?" Hex asked, his voice gruff, like he was holding back some of his own lust issues. I realized my glittery boobs were sort of in his face as I moved my brush up to add some highlights to his nose.

  So … his nipples were close to my mouth, my boobs were in his face, and he was clearly not interested in purchasing Spells for the Kitchen: Volume 1 and yet it was right there in the center of his lap.

  My mind would not stop cycling through those rough cries he made when he came during our spells the other day. Oh, it was so hot. My husbands had made fun of Hex mercilessly that night, but … I was pretty sure Argent had liked it—at least a little.

  "Some farm called Hentze. We usually go out with the kids, and then take turns going through the corn maze. It's pretty scary."

  "Right, a witch, a fae, a werewolf, and a vampire walk into a corn maze …" Hex started, and we both chuckled. I stood up and handed him a mirror, so he could look at his makeup.

  "Well?" I asked as he studied the red demon skin I'd painted on him. I'd even added yellow scales to his cheeks, chest, and stomach. "Doubt that's what you look like when you go full demon, but it works."

  "You're pretty talented at this painting gig," he said, admiring himself and giving his squishy prosthetic pointed ears a squeeze. "Is this a hobby of yours?"

  "I wanted to be a body painter when I was a kid," I said with a laugh. "Like anyone makes a living as a body painter. It's fun though. I do it whenever I get a chance." I pulled my replacement phone out of my pocket and wiggled it. "Mind if I take a few pictures for my portfolio?"

  "Go for it."

  Hex let me snap a few photos of both his front and back. I was tempted to take an extra one of his ass, just for my own pleasure, but that wouldn't be right.

  And then, he surprised the shit out of me.

  "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, glancing around at the thinning crowd. I think we both noticed Con and Bast sneaking off toward the stockroom. It wasn't often that familiars engaged in, uh, lewd behavior without their masters doing so first … but I was worried the sexual tension between Hex and me was so strong that it was bleeding over into them. Did you know a kitten born between a serval and a domestic cat is called the savannah? Those things go for big money, but I was not interested in dealing with a litter of kittens at the moment.

  Don't you dare do anything I wouldn't do, I said to Bast through our telepathic link. Usually, we functioned on the same wavelength, and direct communication wasn't necessary, but I felt like tonight I better speak up.

  Which is to say, nothing fun? she purred back, but I couldn’t get a read on her mood. Or maybe I was just too distracted by Hex?

  "Um, if you want to help clear the store. that would be great." I checked the time on my new phone (the twins ate them frequently, so we kept spares at the house). "We should be leaving to head to the farm in about thirty minutes. Are you sure you won't join us?" I couldn't take my eyes off of Hex, trapped in the depths of that orange gaze. I suddenly felt all of my naked skin, wrapped in nothing but paint and glitter.

  Hex let his eyes move down my body, and I swear I felt each place that he looked as if there was a laser focused on my skin, burning me, melting me into a puddle. He lingered for quite some time on my breasts before flicking his gaze back up to my face.

  I, on the other hand, didn't need to examine him to know that he was hard again—for me. He was only getting hard for me. And I liked it, too. I shouldn't, but I did.

  Gods, what the hell was I doing?! This guy was not only engaged, but he was a playboy, a commitment phobe, and an all-around general asshole. I needed to stop this fantasy I was living before it got any worse. Just a few more days, I told myself, a few more days and then you'll never have to see this guy again.

  So why, exactly, did that thought do absolutely nothing to calm me down?

  I opened my mouth to rescind my invitation when Hex blurted, “yeah, I'd like to try this night walk thing out.”

  Pretty sure I stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, blinking in shock.

  "You would?" I asked, but the way Hex was staring at me … It didn't feel like it was the night walk he wanted to try out—it felt like he was saying he wanted to try me.

  The farm we visited for the night walk was the same one we took the kids to for pumpkin patch day. We’d come a few weeks ago, taken the hayride, chosen our pumpkins, picked some apples. It'd been a calm, peaceful family outing–almost relaxing.

  Not tonight.

  The kids were loud, the crowd was big, and it wasn't just Hex who looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

  "Do you want to grab this ride and head down to the patch?" Spectre asked, glancing up at the nearly full cart stacked with hay bales. There were only two seats left. "I’ll find Caine and Argent, and we'll meet you down there with the kids."

  I hesitated, but only for a moment because I glanced over at Hex, and saw he was damn near ready to jog the fuck out of there—even if he had to run all the way back to town on foot.

  "Okay, but don't take too long," I told Spec, leaning in to give him a kiss on the lips. The tractor driver made a sound of impatience, so I stepped away and handed him two tickets for the ride.

  I moved forward to put my foot on the ladder and climb up, when Hex surprised me by reaching out and taking me by the hips. He hoisted me up and onto the cart before hopping up himself.

  I flushed red as I sat down beside him, meeting Spectre’s lavender eyes as the tractor rumbled to li
fe and took off down the dirt path.

  "You didn't have to do that you know," I said as I glanced over at Hex and found him watching me. The night was dark, and out here in the country, away from the light pollution of the city, we could see all of the stars. A heavy, harvest moon shown above us, lighting our way down the hill, through a tangle of blackberry bushes, and around a copse of trees toward the pumpkin patch.

  "Sorry," Hex grumbled, but his pupils were dilated, and he was staring at me with so much focus that I couldn't help but wiggle on the hay bale. Since I wasn't wearing much, I got a few pieces of hay stuck up my butt crack, but that was to be expected. "I don't even know why I did it." He glanced away from me, toward the jack-o'-lanterns that were laid out across the farm, creating a twisting maze through the remaining pumpkins and their bristly vines. It ended at the corn maze, fog from the dry ice machine drifting out into the darkness.

  I didn't know what else to say, because things were awkward enough as it was. So I just sat there, and waited for the tractor to stop, so I could hop out.

  Hex followed after me, and we spent a few, awkward moments of silence walking along the path, with only jack-o'-lanterns to light our way. We didn't speak until we reached the end.

  "Do you want to try the corn maze?" he asked, gesturing in that direction with his chin. I could hear the screams of teenagers echoing out from inside. I shook my head, gesturing with my chin toward the woods. There were more jack-o'-lanterns that way, and a few seating areas made from giant pumpkins—some that probably weighed more than I did.

  "Honestly, I don't know how much more screaming I can take," I said with a small, nervous laugh. “It’s been a long week.” Hex stared down at me, looking all the more menacing because of the way I painted him. But in a good way, in a way that highlighted the natural demonic energy flowing through him.