The Family Spells: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance

by C. M. Stunich

  "I have a contract, an obligation," I held up the magic mark on my wrist as proof. "I have to work a spell right after the wedding–I don't have any other choice." I could see her eyes growing wider, but I hadn’t delivered the worst news just yet. "I know neither of us is in love with one another, but I also know that my coven and your cabal aren’t going to let us back out of this marriage." And that was my hard truth right there: I was not getting out of this union with Violet, whether I wanted to or not.

  Not even if I wanted to be with Graceley, something I wasn't even sure of yet.

  What I could do, was be honest.

  "Tonight, I had sex with a witch," I said, and I saw the surprise and fury in Violet's eyes. What I did not expect to see was hurt; that shocked the shit out of me. "It won't happen again, but you need to know, and you need to know that I'm only in this marriage because of the agreement our families made." I looked down at the floor, gathering my courage to say more, but I could feel Violet’s magic, white-hot and full of fury, coming my way in waves.

  "Get. Out." I glanced up sharply, and found the daughter of Cabal Ungeist’s underboss staring at me like she was seconds away from slitting my throat.

  Maybe Connard had been right: maybe she really would kill me?

  "Violet—"

  "Get out!" she shrieked, her voice shattering every piece of glass in the apartment. The front door flew open of its own accord, demon magic hot and wild swirling around me. I smelled sulfur and ash, and I saw a fury on that woman's face that I knew I would not be able to live down.

  I almost made the mistake of talking again, but then Violet reached out a hand and punched a massive hole in the wall. The edges burned and melted like they were covered in molten lava.

  This time, I took a few, careful steps back, and then turned and got the hell out of there.

  I couldn't decide if I’d done the right thing … or if I’d just really fucked it all up.

  Only time would tell, I guess.

  As soon as I saw that prick, I felt my hands curling info fists, wolf nails digging into my skin and making me bleed. Even two days later, the amount of violence I felt toward Hex Sorciere was staggering. Pretty sure the other parents at our playdate yesterday could feel it; they kept their children well away from me.

  I'm going to rip your goddess-damned head clean off your shoulders, I thought, but I didn't say anything. Not out loud. No, because sometimes being a good partner means knowing when to stand up for your mate, when to kick the shit out of someone, and also when to step back and let them handle their own problems.

  That's what I was going to do now—even if it was the exact opposite of what my DNA was telling me to do. Despite evidence to the contrary, I did have somethin' goin' on upstairs. Not a lot, but somethin'.

  I gave Hex a feral grin, one that promised blood and violence if he screwed this up.

  "We are leaving tonight, right?" he asked, looking far less sure of his cocky ass self than he had a few days ago. Huh. Fuck him, he couldn't handle a woman like my Grace. She was out of his frigging league.

  "Goddess willin' and the creek don't rise," I growled, just to see him squirm. He glanced over at Argent, and then Spec. "Grace is inside, packing up some supplies." I put my hands in my own pockets and tilted my head, looking out at Hex through a curtain of shaggy blonde hair.

  His own black and orange hair was stuck up with gel like he thought he was some sort of rock icon. Dick face.

  "I want to kick his ass," I whispered to Spectre, and he gave me a wary look.

  "I appreciate you holding back." The vampire looked Hex up and down, and then sighed, like he was disappointed. Yeah, he was good at that, Spec was. He had that old, cold gaze that penetrated into your soul and made ya feel like an asshole, no matter what it was that you'd done. "So, Hex, how did it feel to fuck our wife and then take off like a gods-damned lump of pond scum? Did you feel good about yourself for doing that?"

  "I …" Hex started, but that was all he managed to get out. He scowled and flicked his orange eyes away. His demon wings were out again, orange as my kid's jack-o’-lanterns, and about five times the size they were when I last saw them. He had big, twisted white horns, and a tail, too. "I have a few glamours tucked away, just in case," he explained when he saw me staring, like he was just dying for a change of subject. "But I figured I'd be more useful like this though, untucked or whatever."

  I sneered, but I wasn't about to bring up the sex thing again. We'd agreed that if it came up, and Grace wanted to go through with it, it was her choice. I just hated to see my wife hurting, just because some dumb Oracle promised her four soulmates, and her fourth one happened to be a twat.

  "Alright, boys," Grace said, appearing on the front porch of our quirky, old house with a broom in one hand, and a huge smile on her purple-painted lips. That smile only lasted so long as it took her to spot Hex in the mix. She adjusted her black bag on her left shoulder as her expression dimmed a little. "Hex Witch," she said, using the most polite greeting known to witchkind. Kind of like when folks from the Deep South say Oh, bless your heart when what they really mean is fuck you to hell and back.

  I saw that boy's eyes light up though, and I have to say that in this one instance, I couldn't blame him. Graceley Spells was dressed in tight, black leather pants with knee-high purple boots, a corset with ivory paneling, and a witch's hat absolutely dripping in charms, hexes, curses, and cantrips—you name it, my wife had it. That, and a bitchin’ leather jacket that I just knew was hiding her cursed pistols.

  Turned me on, knowing she knew damn well knew how to handle a gun.

  "There's a natural portal between here and Hael," Grace explained in a tone that very much reminded me of her schoolteacher voice. She only used that one in the bedroom when she was spanking my ass with a ruler.

  I grinned.

  "Coven Apothecary watches over it," Argent said, his smile almost as feral and rude as my own. Damn straight. Never mess with a bastard Seelie prince who’s older than the fuckin' house we lived in. "With a few fae guards, just in case. You like cats, don't you, Hex?" he continued, as the little bastard's shiny black familiar curled around his neck and hissed. "Well, you won't like these cats."

  "What makes you say that?" Hex asked, but we just laughed.

  Well, shoot, shit, and spells, this wasn't going to be as miserable of an evening as I'd first thought.

  There were only three natural portals—made by mother earth, and not the hands of spellcasters—in the world that lead to Hael, and my coven had control of all three. One was right here in Washington, which is why we kept our base of operations near Seattle. There was one buried in the wilds of Africa somewhere, but I wasn't privy to that information. And the third was in Japan, somewhere absurdly close to Tokyo.

  These portals could not be closed, no matter how many generations of witches had tried, so instead, we guarded them.

  The two massive faerie cats were sitting just inside the garden gates, but outside of the house where the portal was kept. They looked like statues at first. That is, until the stone on their necks cracked as they craned their heads over to look at Hex.

  "So close to demon," the one on the right hissed, standing up and shaking off clumps of stone and moss. It was the size of my SUV, with a massive maw full of wicked looking teeth, four green eyes that glimmered like a dragonfly's, and wings made of bark and leaves. It smelled like rotten fruit and dead things, but I'd seen it before. I wasn't scared.

  Hex … looked like he was going to shit his pants.

  "Anymore demon, and we'd eat him up," the other cat replied. They both chuckled, the sound like tumbling gravel, and then proceeded to follow us down the path toward the door of the old house. It was in good shape, and was used to house whoever happened to be on guard duty. Coven Apothecary members cycled through on three day shifts, ten guards at a time. As High Priestess, my family was exempt.

  Today though, there were over thirty witches here, a
s I’d requested—just in case something got through. Not only did I have to usher Hex through our wards, Samhain was coming up, and the attack on my house and shop had me on edge.

  Several members of the coven greeted us as we headed up the front porch steps, and I let myself in. I handed over a scroll with our magical signatures on it to the woman in charge, and waited for her to look it over. That thing right there, was our magical flight plan, like when spelunkers went into a cave and filed their plans with the park service.

  If we didn't come back, at least the coven would know where to start looking for our bodies.

  The portal was enclosed in about three hundred magic circles, pentagram upon pentagram upon pentagram. It didn't look like much except a reddish glow emanating from the centermost circle.

  Heading down to Hael to grab spellcraft supplies was a weekly thing for the coven, but unfortunately for us, the spell we needed to break my mother's curse required a more … personal touch. If we didn't come back with a vial of demon blood, a handful of bone ash, and some reaping willow—not weeping, it really is reaping—bark, then we may as well not even bother going through with the spell at all.

  Mom would die.

  "Good luck in there," the woman—her name was Annabelle, and she was like a fourth or fifth cousin of mine—said as she watched me eye the portal. "There's a war going on down there, a power struggle between several of the cabals. Stay safe, and blessed be."

  "Blessed be," I repeated with a long exhale. Argent stepped up beside me as I waved my hand to clear the protection spells out of our way. Normally, we could walk right through them. This time, Hex was with us, and he wasn't of Coven Apothecary.

  Once they were cleared, I moved forward with my husbands … and one random asshole I so desperately wanted to not see … and stepped into the heat of the portal.

  One of the things everyone gets right about Hael: it was seriously fucking hot down here. Two seconds in, and I could feel sweat dripping down my face, sliding between my breasts, making me seriously question why I was wearing leather pants and a jacket.

  Well, okay, two reasons: first off, this leather was made from demon skin (gross, I know) and therefore naturally resistant to their magic. Second, these pants made me look hot. And I wanted to look hot. I wanted Hex to see me at my best before I sent him packing for good.

  A pang lanced through my chest, and I felt myself suddenly short of breath.

  Having sex with that man was a huge mistake.

  "Grace," Hex said, moving up to stand on my left side. Argent gave him a nasty look, gray eyes flashing, and I knew the fae prince could probably slaughter him before I could lift a finger to stop him. He wouldn't though, because he knew it would hurt me. That was one of the reasons I was with Argent, Spectre, and Caine: they all knew how to put other's emotions before their own.

  I should've done that the other night before I'd fucked Hex. If I'd been thinking clearly, I wouldn't have put them and myself through this emotional roller coaster. I had too many other things to worry about in life than the fragile masculinity and emotional shallowness of some guy who was scared of my kids, hated my husbands, and was engaged to a demon princess.

  "What do you want, Hex?" I asked, turning to glance over at him. He had a broom and a witch hat of his own, and goddess-damn if he didn't look sexy in it. His orange eyes were ringed in liner, and his lashes were unbelievably long …

  I turned away sharply and paused in the narrow tunnel.

  It was just wide enough for three people to walk abreast, with trees growing from the ground, walls, and ceiling. They hung down around us, a thick forest with foliage above and below. Dozens of category one and two demons skittered around, peeping at us through the trees.

  I'd been asked before what, exactly, made a demon a demon.

  There was only one rule: they could be summoned by their name.

  All demons had a very long, very well-protected name that could quite literally pull them across continents—across worlds—and bind them to the summoner's will. It was a dangerous game to play, however, because even a category one demon, if freed, would kill their summoner if given the chance.

  "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry—again. I feel like I've owed you a lot of apologies lately." He wrinkled his nose up at the smell of sulfur and ash, and pushed against some low-hanging branches for me to pass. I wonder what Hex's summoning name is? I wondered. I bet only he and his grandmother knew it, if that.

  Demons were born knowing their own names, but they were also born with the natural instinct to keep them hidden. It was possible that Hex was the only person who knew his true name.

  "Sorry for what?" I asked, as the five of us worked our way through the cave, warm droplets of water dripping from the stone ceiling and spattering on the brim of my hat. The humidity here was killer, and it was already turning my hair into frizzy, bouncing ringlets. "For freaking out and running away? For fucking me? For just being an all-around asshole?"

  "All of it," he growled as a shiny purple fruit with yellow spikes fell from one of the ceiling-trees and splatted on the ground near our feet. It smelt like those rotten oranges I'd found in the back of the cabinet last week, and I almost gagged.

  Instead, I swallowed back the bile, held my breath, and stepped over it.

  Trouncing around the demon realm with weapons in hand was not really the best place for a heart-to-heart, if that's even what Hex was trying to give me. I had no idea what to say, how to respond, so I just kept moving.

  Until we reached the mouth of the cave that is, and Argent reached out a palm, putting it flat over my belly.

  "Wait." The fae prince stepped forward, out into the pouring rain. It was warm, too, when I held out a hand to cup the water in my palm. The sky was obscured by clouds which wasn't the worst thing ever: the sky in Hael was one of the most mind-blowing sights I'd ever seen. Wherever this place was, it was most certainly not floating in space like planet earth. There was no sun, no moon, no stars, just an endless sea of red.

  So, I was actually quite relieved for the cloud cover.

  "Your fiancée’s cabal isn't going to come after us, right?" Spectre asked dryly, adjusting the zipper on his leather jacket. Like me, he was decked out in demon skin leather and rocking seriously hot combat boots. Each lace had charms and spells dangling off the ends of it. In his right hand, Spec carried his scythe, the ivory blade gleaming in the light from several dozen jack-o'-lanterns.

  Well, now, that gave me chills.

  Demons did not often carve pumpkins.

  Someone was fucking with us.

  "I have no fucking clue," Hex snapped, adjusting his leathery orange demon wings. They were beautiful, like a bat's wings, but as bright as an October pumpkin patch. I wanted to touch one, but that'd be awfully fucking rude considering they were essentially sex organs to him. Most winged Numinous felt that way about their extra appendages.

  "You cheated on your fiancée, and now you’re not even sure what the backlash is going to be like? Oh, that's rich. So you're a cheat and an idiot," Caine said, and Hex turned on him.

  They didn't end up in a fight though. No, they were interrupted by something coming out of the sky to attack Argent. It knocked him back and into the dense, dark shadows of the woods. The trees groaned, their desperate keening murmur cutting through the raging waters of the storm.

  Someone … or something … was expecting us.

  Even though my heart was thundering, and I was already starting forward to help Argent, my fae husband had things under control. He stood up, grabbed the demon—one that was nearly identical to the things that'd attacked us at the house—and snapped its neck.

  Fae prince, indeed.

  "These pumpkins," I said, the warm water pooling on the brim of my hat and plastering my hair to my forehead. I had to part wet sheets of it to get a good view of the landscape. "They're leading somewhere."

  "This is a bit too Hansel and Gretel for my liking,"
Spectre said, spinning his scythe in a circle and moving up to stand beside me. We both stared down the winding path of pumpkins. It veered away from the infernal blackness of the woods, heading in the opposite direction, along the river.

  And that river, it was a river of fire, crackling and sparking as it oozed along between the banks. I could feel the heat from here, singeing the fine hairs on my arms.

  "We ain't stupid enough to follow it, so who cares?" Caine growled, looking down the curving row of jack-o'-lanterns. And oh, fuck, those faces … Whoever had carved them was talented, but sadistic. It was so purposeful, too, this whole set-up. "Let's get what we need and get the fuck out of here."

  My werewolf hubby moved over to the demon's corpse, pulling out a glass bottle as he knelt down. He filled it with blood from the puddle on the ground and replaced the cork.

  "One item down, two more to go," Spec said with a long sigh, giving the dark woods a very wary look. "I just didn't know easy the blood and ash would be. Almost too easy. When's the last time we were just attacked out of nowhere?" He stood aside as Argent lit up the demon's body with a spell so hot, it made the river of fire much less of a big deal.

  I stepped back as we watched the flames consume the body.

  "Spectre has a point," Argent, looking back at the thick darkness of the woods himself. The trees cried incessantly, like maybe this really was more than just an alternate dimension, like Hael might actually be a catch for the souls of the damned. "This is far too easy, and I don't like it. Name the last time a demon literally threw itself into my hands." The fae prince lifted his glowing palms up and examined the blood coating his skin. His charcoal gray eyes narrowed, and then with a wave of his hand, he put out the fire on the demon's corpse.

  "What are you—" I started, but Caine was grabbing my arm and yanking me toward the forest. It wasn't exactly the safest place, but it did offer some cover. And—depending on the type of tree—possible allies. The last time we were here, one of the damn things ate a demon that was stalking us.