Mystic Hallows Harem Box Set Episodes 1-4: Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance

by Nikki Landis

  “Actually, she’s with me.”

  I stared up at the sexy dark vampire at a loss for words. When did Damian show up?

  A scream pierced the night followed by loud laughter and I nearly jumped out of my own skin. I couldn’t place why I was on edge, but I was. My eyes darted around the room, but I didn’t see Gabriel or Gypsy. Shit. He better be with her or else.

  Ditching Ryder and Damian as they argued, I slipped from the main room and headed outside. The temperature dropped significantly since this afternoon and the sky was dark without any hint of moonlight. Clouds lingered and seemed to gradually lower until a swirling mist enveloped the entire area. I could barely see a foot in front of me as an uneasy feeling settled over my skin and caused little goosebumps to erupt along my flesh. I was never unsettled by the dark, but something was off.

  The sounds of the party faded as I spun in a circle, suddenly at a loss as to which way to walk. I didn’t want to venture far since the forest was close enough to engulf me completely in this weather and I’d never find my way back in the dark. The loss of electricity worked against me tonight. Candlelight wouldn’t penetrate a heavy mist or fog from far away, so I was left wandering and lost.

  As I debated my next move, I became increasingly aware of the fact that I wasn’t alone. None of the presences I was familiar with were close by – including the ones I recently met. The vampire, the werewolf, or even the new guy Ryder who wasn’t human either. It wasn’t my cousin but the undeniable pulse of magic lingered. Another witch. A powerful caster with a dark, sinister aura.

  Evil. The intense feeling was crushing as the witch approached. The closer he or she got, the more I had to fight against the dark magic that sought to siphon my own power. This wasn’t family or one of the thirteen. Mystic Hallows was home to those thirteen prominent witch families from Salem, but none were as dark and twisted as this being.

  Holding back the urge to cry out, I sank to my knees and closed my shields, converting all my remaining strength into the barrier to prevent a breach. The hammering pulse of the witch’s attacks slammed into my skull. Each pinpoint was a brutal prick and never hit the same place twice. Clever. This witch was searching for a weakness in my shields and scattering my power as I struggled to maintain consciousness. If I succumbed to the sleep, I’d be overtaken.

  “Cassie!”

  The voice that called my name was warbled, unfiltered into my brain like I was underwater and operating in slow motion. My conscious mind trickled information in at an agonizing pace. All I felt was pain. My head throbbed as I recognized my own voice, a painful wail slipping from between my lips.

  “Cassie, follow the sound of my voice.”

  The tone was masculine but soft, urgent but calming.

  Awareness returned to my mind slowly – the rustle of the leaves in the trees overhead, the steady rise and fall of my chest with each breath, the pressure of a hand holding one of my own, even the pain that began to lessen as I blinked my eyes.

  I was lying down among the leaves, not far from the frat house. The fog from moments ago was gone, disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

  “Cas, you okay?” Gypsy’s tear-filled voice lifted the last of the haze from my brain.

  “I’m fine,” I reassured her as I squeezed her hand in return. “What happened?”

  “I was hoping you could tell us.” The same voice that found me in the fog answered. A voice that my ancestors loved and adored. The protector and guardian . . . Gabriel.

  I knew why he was here now. At least, I knew one of the reasons.

  “It’s a bit of a blur,” I admitted.

  “That’s not good,” Damian pointed out. Mr. Obvious.

  “Agreed.” Ryder was standing next to the other two immortals.

  Why were they all here together, at the same time, each standing guard with purpose?

  “What’s happening?” Gypsy asked, her voice wavering. “I’m scared for Cassie.”

  The three men exchanged a look before Gabriel answered in a low but concerned tone.

  “Something wicked has entered Mystic Hallows.”

  Chapter 3

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  This was the fifth time Gypsy asked in the last ten minutes.

  “No, Gyps, go enjoy yourself. I’m fine right here.” I offered up a genuine smile that she returned. “But don’t go far. And no more beer,” I added.

  She pouted, but I wouldn’t be moved. “Come on, I drink more than that at home.”

  Wine, maybe. Aunt Gwen let her get away with too much. “No, and that’s at home not in public. You’re not even eighteen yet,” I pointed out.

  “You’re not twenty-one yet either,” she retorted as her tongue darted out in a mocking but playful way.

  A technicality. My birthday was only a few weeks away.

  “Very funny, go on.” I watched as she moved across the room and started chatting up a group of kids from her high school. There were a lot of underage teens here tonight but that was no surprise. Most of the young adult crowd was made up of local high school and college kids. I recognized the Bishop brothers, Willow’s daughter, and a few others.

  “Do you think this is a good idea? After what happened?” Gabriel was sitting on the arm of the couch next to me on the right, while Damian sat on my left, ass in the cushions like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “I think she needs to have some fun,” I explained, leaning my head back. I was tired. My eyes closed briefly, and I enjoyed the darkness that seemed to dull the pain. I still felt lethargic, but my strength was returning the longer I rested.

  “You need anything, angel?” Ryder asked softly.

  Frowning, I caught the three intense pairs of masculine eyes that stared at me like I was a piece of fine china. “I’m not going to break, ya know. Go on, have fun. I’m not going anywhere.”

  None of them moved.

  “Seriously, I don’t need a babysitter.”

  The guys remained silent and they didn’t seem inclined to listen.

  This was never going to work. They were going to aggravate and piss me off. “Gabriel, I get why you’re here. Damian and Ryder, I’ve got no idea.”

  When I still didn’t get an answer, I stood up, wobbly but determined.

  Damian bolted up and grabbed my elbow before I could walk away, his fast reflexes startling. Damn vampires. “Listen, there’s a lot at stake here. We didn’t want to alarm you –”

  Yanking my arm away, I jabbed a finger in his chiseled chest. He was like solid marble carved into perfection. I caught myself wondering if his abs were as defined as the rest of his body.

  I really needed to focus. “Who are you referring to? Who’s this ‘we’?”

  “The three of us,” Gabriel muttered, “and we don’t like it either.”

  As I spun around, my hands lowered to my hips. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  Gabriel shrugged, but he wouldn’t make eye contact.

  “It’s complicated,” Ryder admitted.

  Seriously? Were they ganging up on me?

  Two seconds from blasting off on a rant, I paused as I felt that same vibe from earlier, the sensation of something evil and tainted as it infiltrated the air. Without a word, I turned from the guys and searched the room frantically for Gypsy. I was aware of nothing but my panic and the increasing dread that filled my heart. I caught her pale blonde hair across the room as she sank to her knees in front of the metal tub full of apples. Several of her friends were cheering her on as she lowered her face into the water and began to bob for an apple.

  Everything around me happened in slow motion as I headed in her direction. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t seem to reach her quickly enough. My heart clenched in my chest as nausea pooled in my gut and bile rose up in my throat. The ache in my head was back along with a piercing pain that shot down my back. I fought against the urge to collapse as every nerve in my spine tingled. My limbs deadened and I treaded th
rough a thick sludge of invisible muck. Someone was trying to prevent me from reaching Gypsy.

  Despite the loud music my agonized scream for my cousin was heard throughout the entire house.

  “Gypsy!”

  Her feet dug into the thin carpet and I realized with horror that she was unable to lift her head out of the water. Her knuckles were white from where her fingers clenched the rim of the tub. The toes of her boots slid along the floor as her legs tried to find traction while she slipped and slid but couldn’t move away. With horror, I watched her head as it shook from side to side, the fluid splashing all over and spilling from the tub. She was still submerged. Air bubbles rose to the surface of the water.

  Gypsy was going to drown!

  “NO!” I yelled as the panic burst free from my chest. My hands rose as I felt the dark energy swirling in the room, creating a vortex that was sucking in all the power from every witch and immortal in the vicinity. A vile evil tiptoed across my skin and I resisted the urge to shudder.

  For the first time, I could picture the spell in front of me, the black magic incantation used to keep Gypsy underwater. Why it appeared in front of me now, I didn’t know. There were so many layers to the spell, woven with fine intricate stitches that sealed the murderous intent of the weaver. It only took a second for me to spot a weakness in the spell, one loose thread that I reached forward and pulled, yanking with every ounce of power I had in my body.

  Vaguely aware of the hiss and screech of dismay as I disabled the spell, I didn’t dare stop. Dark energy surrounded my weak frame, seeking a new host with the disruption of the incantation and I moaned slightly with the effort it took to control the remainder of my shields. I was being attacked from every direction. My body felt battered and bruised as I shifted all of my efforts into keeping the evil entity from ripping my body apart. Pummeling strikes bashed against my skull. My shields cracked and pulsed as my aura flickered.

  In the background, I heard male voices and the wonderful sound of Gypsy coughing and sputtering next to me as she was carefully placed on the ground. My cousin was alive. The relief was short-lived. I saved her. That much I knew, but I wasn’t sure if I would survive. Warm fluid trickled down from my nose as my eyes rolled back in my head.

  There was only darkness . . .

  * * *

  “Cassandra.”

  The familiar male voice echoed in my head. Reaching forward, I tried to find which direction the sound originated from. Nothing worked. I was lost.

  “Cassie, please. Come back.”

  I knew Gabriel was here, but I couldn’t find him. The air, the vacant space around me, everything was so dark. What if I couldn’t find my way out?

  “I’m sorry, sweetness. Forgive me.” His voice was closer but not enough for me to tell which way to walk.

  “Gabriel?” I whispered. Fear of the unknown caused my voice to tremble. Was I safe? Was I dying?

  Why was it so dark and cold?

  “Come back to me, my sweet.” Gabriel’s voice sounded tortured. “I’m here. Reach out, I’ll find you.”

  “GABRIEL!” I screamed his name, but it was no use. Stumbling along in the dark, I was frightened by the possibility that I would fall or run into something at any moment.

  There was no light at all. Not even a moon. Just an empty void.

  “Cassandra!” One moment I was alone and the next . . . he appeared right by my side.

  The pulse of a white aura hovered over him like a mirage. Was this the ancestor’s blessing?

  Strong hands reached out and pulled me into a solid chest, flush against a warm body that smelled as familiar as home. Rugged man, earth, animal, spice. A shifter. The unique scent of his wolf engulfed my brain, swept me away in wistful desires. “I’ve got you. I’ll never let go,” he promised.

  “Gabriel . . .” There were so many questions I wanted to ask. Why did he lie? Why was he keeping secrets?

  “Not now, sweetness. We’ll have time later.”

  “I’m so tired,” I admitted.

  “I know. Stay with me, Cas. I won’t let anything harm you. I swear.”

  “Gabriel,” I clutched at him with desperate fingers as I was surrounded by his embrace. His warmth replaced the bitter chill. Safety and security blanketed my spirit. I felt at peace. As long as he was here, I’d be alright.

  The ancestors were right. Gabriel was blessed. Even more astounding, he was powerful and strong in ways that defied logic. He was my anchor.

  “My Cas, never leave me . . .”

  * * *

  My eyes fluttered open as I squinted into the darkness. Directly above, a moonlit sky filled with puffy gray clouds obscured most of the glow. Stars scattered about and twinkled sporadically in little bursts of sparkling white. Beneath my head were fallen leaves and spongy moss, the contrast between the brittle crunch and the soft texture irritating my skin. Gothic wrought iron gates surrounded the trees and disappeared into the dark night.

  The scene was familiar. My backyard.

  Tall trees hovered above as their boughs sagged, limbs twisted and gnarled but strong as they reached upward and grasped at the nearly full moon. The trees were deeply rooted and held many secrets. Some as old as the land before man ever settled into this country. If you listened quietly, you could hear them whisper into the wind, chanting their own ancient words of wisdom and power.

  Commotion around me drew my attention.

  “Hurry! The moon is at the highest point.” Aunt Gwen’s words barely registered in my brain.

  There was no memory of returning home.

  “Spread the black salt evenly. Make sure the circles are unbroken while I finish with the chalk.”

  My vision began to fade in and out as I heard Gypsy moan from my right side, close but not touching. Willow was here, too. Aunt Gwen must have asked for her help.

  All around me I caught movement. Ryder, Gabriel, and Damian scurried to follow my Aunt Gwen’s directions. They lit candles at the five points of each pentagram drawn around mine and Gypsy’s bodies. We must have been placed down the second my aunt finished. The entire experience was surreal. My consciousness floated around my body, my thoughts murky and unfocused.

  Aunt Gwen and Willow began to chant as I stared up at the moon, my strength zapped, and my body aching and sore like I just finished running a marathon. Each muscle felt strained and throbbed with pain. Fighting off the witch left my spirit vulnerable and weak. I knew my aunt could sense the drain on my aura. Gypsy didn’t feel much better.

  “Fire hot, fire bright, I cast this spell to candle’s light.”

  The flames of the candles began to flicker and move as a breeze picked up and swept across my body.

  “Threads of flames, tendrils of desire, weave a protection cloak made of earth’s fire.”

  The flames of the candles grew higher, the light brightening around us and casting strange shadows across the grass.

  “Around Gypsy and Cassie, I wrap this cloak good and tight, to shelter and protect in the day and the night.”

  The flames leaped from the candles and singed the ground all around my body, tracing each contour and angle and burning my shape into the ground. I could feel the heat as it blazed close but never harmed an inch of my skin. Seconds later, the flames jumped back into the air before they billowed in the wind in a slight display of power. I blinked as they settled back onto the wicks of the candles, as steady as before.

  “Once I blow out this candle and cross my arms, my spell is cast to protect you from harm.”

  Aunt Gwen and Willow crossed their arms and sank to their knees before they raised their hands and reached upward toward the sky. The flames waved in the breeze and then suddenly ceased their glow, extinguished as we plunged into total darkness.

  “Hang on, sweetness. Your ancestors will heal you.” Gabriel’s deep voice soothed the instant I heard him speak.

  “Don’t die on us, pet.” Damian’s eyes glistened with moisture and an eerie greenish glow. For a brief m
oment, I thought I saw tears. An emotional vampire? I nearly snorted in response but didn’t want to insult him.

  Ryder’s hand reached for mine and squeezed. “We’re all here for you, angel.”

  It wasn’t long before the flames reappeared on the candles. A new spell but not just any incantation. Aunt Gwen was summoning the ancestors. For the first time, I noticed the white smoke as it rose up from the ground. According to custom, the incense would burn at four perfect points – north, south, east, and west – on our property. Harnessing the power of the four corners, Aunt Gwen would honor the ancestors and beseech their company, asking for their blessing and protection during Samhain.

  “My uplifted ancestors, guides, fierce protectors and skilled healers. Please answer my call.”

  The air around us stilled completely. All noises of the night ceased. No crickets, no rustling leaves. A deafening silence hung with a heavily pregnant pause.

  “Ancestors, please stand with me, Gwen, sister of Elizabeth, child of Heather and Shane Howe. Be with me in this moment and hour of need. Guide me along my road with a cool head and a clear mind. Ancestors, show me your presence tonight so I may honor you.”

  Aunt Gwen’s words barely left her mouth when a sudden gust of wind whipped through the trees and leaves, billowing the fabrics of our clothes against our bodies. The candles’ flames rose up higher and never flickered, proof the ancestors answered her call.

  “I am root of your root, soil of your soil, bone of your bone, and blood of your blood.” She rose from her knees and opened her arms wide, holding up a large white candle and raising it high. “Embrace and use me, make me your conduit so I may extend your legacy. Bring healing to our fallen sisters, my daughter Gypsy and my niece Cassandra. Restore their strength and fill them with the power of the Howe family ancestry.”

  The candle in her hands was unlit before this moment but now ignited in a towering blue flame that mesmerized every presence here – both human and immortal.

  Before my eyes, the spirits of my ancestors materialized, each of the last ten generations of witches, including . . . my mother. They appeared as apparitions that weren’t fully flesh and yet they were as real as if they were still alive. No change since death other than the intensity of their auras. Each had a slightly different color that tinged the halo that surrounded their souls. My mother’s had always been a light violet. I had been told my own was the same by Aunt Gwen.