Poison and Potions: a Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by Erin Hayes

  All it’d take was the strength to not care.

  “No, Isaac,” Zoey’s hand was on his back and pulling him away from the enraged therion. “She’s got every right to say it, and it’s not worth lying for my benefit.”

  Lies. That’s what she was calling her lover’s defense for her. That’s what she was doing to him, taking the side of the woman who was slandering her and still trying to take him away from her.

  Why was she still allowing herself to be so weak?

  Isaac looked back and stared at her. “Zoe… you know I’m not—”

  Zoey fought the urge to cry under the weight of that stare. “It’s just… It’s not worth it just to defend what I’ve done.” She nodded up towards the wall and the mess strewn across it. “The proof’s right in front of us, after all. I… I should’ve had this solved by now.”

  “No. There’s no way you could think this could have been prevented so easily,” he pushed on, refusing to give in.

  “Really? If Serena were here, it’d be done by now,” she said. “Me? I can’t even control my own emotions… let alone this situation!”

  “At least she’s willing to admit it,” Delilah muttered, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

  “Shut the hell up, Dee!” Isaac growled before turning his scowl on Zoey. “Serena? Really?” He shook his head, “If Serena were here, and even if by some miracle she managed to solve this case and exterminate Ezra and the other quicker than this, it’s safe to say there’d have been a lot more destruction, as well! She’d probably have let this entire city go up in flames to smoke out the two, and then there’d have been an unnecessary and costly battle right in the streets. Her idea of a solution is hardly something The Council would, even on their worse day, consider sound and reasonable. For god’s sake, Zoe, they’re still trying to tidy up the mess from the damn Maledictus fiasco”—Zoey felt a tremor creep up her spine at the mention of the name—“and that was years ago! They sent you, Zoey, because they knew you’d go about it with some tact and subtlety; because otherwise they’d not only have a monster like this Ezra on the loose, but a walking parade of calamity to mark a chaos-laced trail after him.” He took her by the shoulders, pleading with his eyes as he said, “Serena’s a strong and capable warrior, but cunning and careful she is not, and will never be! They needed you”—he paused long enough to see something in her eyes and her breath caught in her throat as he smirked at her—“because you’re clever enough to tell me to shut up and let somebody like Delilah think she’s winning just to prevent a public scene…”

  She blushed at that, realizing that, once again—even still without a trace of psychic abilities within him—he’d read her that easily.

  Can’t pull the wool over your eyes, can I? she asked him privately.

  His smirk broadened at that. Wool is for the sheep, darling. You’re dealing with a wolf. And once we get this show behind closed doors, I say you finally show them what they’re dealing with.

  Zoey bit her lip at that. You’re asking me to hurt her? Just to prove I can?

  No, baby. I’m telling you to hurt her to prove that you always could!

  Delilah growled behind them. “Am I to believe that that means you think I owe her something right now? Like I’m not capable of controlling myself?”

  Isaac, still smirking, turned to face her, offering only a single nod. “If Zoey went through the trouble of stopping it,” he said, “then, yes, that’s exactly what you should believe.”

  “She said it herself, Isaac,” Delilah went on, “she can’t even control her own emotions. You truly expect me to believe that she’s in control enough to do all that? Face it, sweetheart, you’re going to have to come to grips with the fact that you not only missed out on the best, but also settled with… well, that,” she nodded back towards Zoey. “And not only did you choose wrong twice, but the choice you’ve made will probably cost you your life, her own life, and the lives of everyone in my pack! Because she’s right about one thing: she can’t control shit! Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if everything that’s happened so far wasn’t her fault!”

  Zoey felt an unfamiliar heat rise in her chest at that and she heard herself say “Do you realize how unbelievably stupid that sounds?” before she’d even finished thinking it.

  Delilah and the rest of her pack stopped to stare at the first real act of defiance she’d shown since her arrival.

  “Stupid like saying something like that to me, you mean?” Delilah snarled. “Care to try being that stupid again? Maybe finally give Isaac a chance to see what sort of mistake he’s making with the likes of you, vampire?”

  Time to spay this bitch! Serena’s voice chimed in the back of Zoey’s head.

  Isaac bit back a growl as his eyes darted towards her. Don’t let her keep getting away with this, Zoe!

  Hurt her to prove she could? More and more she was liking the idea of that.

  Stretching back her shoulders, Zoey narrowed her eyes and let her aura snake out from her chest and knock an unsuspecting Delilah towards the door to her club.

  “Let’s take this inside,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Delilah was too excited at the prospect of finally getting to take the conflict that had been brewing between her and Zoey to the next step. Though her wide grin, already bulging muscles, and eagerness to get inside were dead giveaways to that fact, her aura, which was practically dancing around her body, drove the point home. More than that, though, it gave away a crucial bit of information to Zoey: she was already celebrating a premature victory. If she cared enough to look inside the therion’s head—she didn’t—she was certain there’d be a short scene of her foot perched victoriously on Zoey’s chest. A miniature film documenting her soon-to-be victory no doubt cycling in an endless loop. No alternate endings. No sequence or montage. Nothing. Just a jump-cut to an ending of her design.

  And if such a movie was playing inside Delilah’s head, then she was as sloppy a filmmaker as she was a fighter. Because Isaac had already bested her in combat, something that Delilah herself would be willing to admit, but, what she neither knew nor had the depth to consider, was that Zoey, though reserved and unwilling, had beaten her lover on more than one occasion in their sparring matches.

  She’d even playfully defeated him more than once without raising a finger, on one of those occasions even doing it while reading an article on microbiology. She hadn’t even had to look away from the text to do it.

  Time to edit this bitch’s movie, the Serena-voice cheered in Zoey’s head as they entered the Blue Moon.

  Without having to be told to do so, the other therions hurried to form a path to the dance floor, now a makeshift arena. A red-and-blue checkerboard clearing centered beneath a shimmering disco ball moon and the dull flicker of strobed starlight.

  An exaggerated, urbanized setting for the wolves who’d chosen concrete and steel over grass and trees.

  It was ironically fitting.

  “When I’m done kicking your ass,” Delilah called out to Zoey as she sauntered into the center of the dance floor, “you gotta promise that you won’t let Isaac try anything. And I’d better not be getting any late-night visits from The Council’s assassins looking to punish me for wiping the floor with one of their cogs.”

  “You have my word,” was all the answer Zoey offered as she planted her aura on the floor long enough to lift both feet and remove her socks and shoes.

  Delilah, turning in time to see the last sock come off, scowled at the sight and rolled her eyes.

  “You need a bit more time, princess?” she cooed, already starting to transform and barely having enough time to slip out of her clothes to save them from being shredded by the process.

  Zoey mirrored the eye-roll and planted her bare feet on the floor, stretching her calves as she did. “You sure seem eager to get naked in front of a crowd for somebody who criticizes others’ sexual habits as much as you do.” Then, feeling a pang of guilt for what she was about to do, she
cast a nervous glance at Isaac, who gave her a coy smirk and a thumbs up.

  Put the fear of Zoey in ‘er, baby, he thought to her.

  Somehow, she realized, guilt felt different when it was being encouraged by him. Felt naughty. A feeling tugged at her jaw, and after a moment she realized that she was grinning. Naughty she liked. Naughty was freedom from the box of obedience and righteousness that normally dictated her actions. But when she’d first found Isaac—first fallen for him, because it was most certainly love at first sight—and had been forced to accept that, despite all demands to the contrary, she was dedicated to spending the rest of her life with a therion; with a “lowly dog” as far as her kind were concerned. It was naughty. And when her friends, who were pleasantly quick to accept her decision, realized that she’d been with him intimately—slept with a mythos species renowned for their size and carnal approach to sex—the normally relaxed view they had of her was one of shock and awe. Again, naughty. Since meeting Isaac, Zoey had come to crave “naughty” as a means of slipping the bonds of her everyday life.

  And this—squaring off against an over cocky therion bitch eager to steal her man and wipe her nose in every mistake she made—was suddenly feeling less wrong and more and more naughty by the second.

  Fuck her up!

  Zoey’s grin grew wider as she realized the voice was neither Isaac’s nor the internalized Serena-voice. It was all her own.

  Planting her feet, Zoey slowly dipped into a Tai Chi stance, less for purpose—she could have just as easily been sitting with her back turned without sacrificing her upper hand—and more because she knew it would irritate Delilah that much more. Delilah was instinct and emotion; raw and, if pushed the right way, stupid. She’d been comparing herself to Zoey since the moment they’d met, trying to pick at whatever she viewed as a loose thread. But there was one shining element that she coveted, something that no amount of flamboyant sexuality or brute force could earn or replace: class. For every act Delilah made on instinct, she saw that gold ring of matching Zoey’s natural grace slip that much further from her reach. And wouldn’t a thing like Tai Chi just rub the salt in an open wound like that?

  It wasn’t the sort of thing that Zoey would’ve normally done—certainly not the proper way to do things, working to instigate a violent response from an opponent like this.

  But it was the naughty thing to do.

  Delilah was too far gone into the transformation to say anything, but her aura more than made up for the silence. The silence, however, was anything but. Between the sound of Delilah’s snarls and the overlapping crunches and squelches of breaking bones and shifting organs—the din of a body reconstructing itself—Zoey could hear the low, agitated responses from the surrounding members of her opponent’s pack. The other therions were just as eager as their leader for this fight. Several had even begun to succumb to their instincts and allowed their own transformations to begin, as well. Zoey saw all of this without actually seeing any of it, never taking her gaze off of Delilah. Though nobody but her could see it, her aura was out and sweeping like a military radar throughout the room, relaying every detail. Thoughts, plans, intents, and every twitch of every muscle; they didn’t even have to make an actual move for her to know they were about to. And all of them were thinking the same thing:

  Zoey had agreed not to let Isaac come to her rescue should things not work out, but Delilah had never reciprocated that generosity. She was sure the therion thought she was being clever there; that maybe she’d overlook that omission and be caught off guard if and, more likely, when the others decided to make a contribution to the fight. It was a wise move, a contingency plan; the sort of thing any good leader would do. But there were two major flaws in it:

  Firstly, they were, whether they were urbanized or modernized or even organized (though it was clear they were anything but that), part of a pack mentality. Just like wolves. So much more, sure, but like wolves all the same, and, like wolves, they knew their place. And their place was behind Delilah. Though all of them knew what Plan B was, they also knew that there would be no step in that direction until Delilah gave the order. That order, however, stood behind a curtain of Delilah’s pride; stood side-by-side with the admission that Delilah hadn’t been able to take Zoey on her own. Just how far Delilah was willing to let her body be broken before letting that pride take a hit, however, remained to be seen.

  The second flaw, though a distant factor since it relied on the pack actually being called upon—which was, in and of itself, a victory for Zoey, anyway—was the one that had Isaac fighting a bout of laughter even as the room full of therions readied for a chance to attack his lover:

  Zoey, if she truly wanted it—and at that moment she truly did—could defeat them all.

  If they had another auric on their side, somebody who could break Zoey’s auric constructs or defend against her attacks or, at the very least, see what she was preparing to do with her aura, there might have been some concern. They might have even had an edge with a sang in their ranks—somebody with the sort of speed that could actually counter her abilities. As it was, both Delilah and her entire pack weren’t considering what they were up against. Maybe they’d never seen an auric in action. Maybe they had and thought they were somehow immune to their abilities. Or maybe, more likely, they just weren’t thinking. They’d grown too cocky being the top dogs in their town and they’d grown too confident because Zoey had been too professional to show them what she could do from the get-go. They thought they were clever with their Plan B, a plan built on a mindset of “if I can’t walk away a winner then everybody will walk away a loser.”

  Too bad for them Zoey was tired of feeling like a loser in Delilah’s shadow, and if it meant taking on the entire pack to be a winner then she was prepared to shatter Plans A, B, and whatever other letters they were prepared to pull out.

  Plan B was every bit as futile as the plan that preceded it.

  And, as Delilah completed her transformation and loosed a ear-splitting howl that echoed through the club’s interior, that plan was put into action.

  The lean, snarling creature that the sultry woman had become dropped onto all fours, using the enhanced muscle of her entire body to throw herself at Zoey in a lunge that would have driven her through a brick wall if she’d wished to. As there were no brick walls that needed demolition at that moment, however, Zoey opted to have the attack pass through the wall of startled therions that were standing behind her instead. Though the attack had been too quick for her to move aside, Zoey’s aura was already tethered around Delilah long before her feet left the ground. At that point it was just a simple matter of redirecting her course.

  A startled whimper sounded in Zoey’s ear along with the WHOOSH of the massive body passing close by on her right, followed immediately after by the combined grunts and moans of surprise and pain (and the sound of a several bones breaking) as she collided with four of her packmates. A fifth, lucky enough to dive free of the impact, issued an inhuman snarl from a still human body and took one step towards Zoey with a foot that was suddenly far from human. With his body still changing, the confused grunt came out gravelly as Delilah’s clawed hand shot out to stop him in his second step and pull him back with enough force to land him on his back.

  The message was clear.

  Zoey finally turned to face Delilah, and though she wasn’t certain how calm her expression was at that moment the response it earned told her it was far too casual for her opponent’s liking. Delilah roared and pounded a fist on the dance floor. The first impact chipped the checkerboard tiles. The second sent a series of spider web cracks spreading outward nearly half-a-foot. A third cratered the area and sent the broken fragments clattering around them.

  Zoey considered saying something clever; something snide; something that Serena might have said in the face of such a display. But she didn’t. Isaac had been right. Serena was tough—there was no doubt about that—but she was tough in the same way that Delilah was tough.

/>   And that’s when she saw it.

  Everything about Delilah—the confidence, the sexuality, the abrasiveness and in-your-face, devil-may-care approach to anything and everything—was something she recognized from her closest friend, as well. And, as much as she loved Serena, she’d doubted herself in her friend’s shadow in the same way she’d been doubting herself in Delilah’s. Without the benefit of being on that sort of character’s good side—the only side anybody would want to be on with that sort of character—she’d been subconsciously carrying every doubt that she’d ever had since she’d first met Serena.

  Because Serena was the sort who would simply take a man she saw as hers. She was the sort who would pick at every loose thread she found in somebody she didn’t like. She was the sort who would curse and claw and lay down untold levels of calamity to have her way. Not that it was a bad thing—it had helped save the world, after all—but it was one thing when packaged in an increasingly humble and loyal vampire friend. When packaged in a scared and uncertain therion pack leader fighting to pave a path in unexplored territory and hellbent on not letting an ounce of doubt show to a single living soul, however…

  Yea, Serena might have had something clever and snide to say in the face of Delilah’s enraged display, because Serena was tough in the same way that Delilah was tough.

  But that didn’t mean Zoey couldn’t be tough in her own way.

  And she knew that somebody like Serena would hate a confident silence over a cheap Hollywood-esque one liner.

  You okay, Zoe? Isaac’s thoughts rose over all the others, Zoey’s included.

  Shooting a glance to one side to meet his gaze, Zoey gave a single nod. Better than you’d believe, actually.

  Delilah, seeing the moment of distraction, tried for another attack then. Without looking away, Zoey let her aura snag the airborne therion and flip her over her head, kicking up enough wind to tussle her hair and send a few rogue strands slipping into her face.