Wicked Games_A Reverse Harem Romance

by Kel Carpenter

  We had no way of knowing which half of her would surface, or if both would come forward. Ruby the succubus was one thing…pre-transition she was much stronger than she realized. And that was the better outcome. If the beast surfaced out here in the woods, I would have no way of containing it. Our little foreplay would have turned into a very real game of cat and mouse, possibly ending with her burning down the entire fucking forest.

  And still…I almost didn’t stop her.

  The beast yearns to claim its first mate and she’s holding it back. There is almost nothing more that I want, except to keep her safe. That includes from herself.

  No matter. She is close. So very close, and when the time comes…

  I will be at her side as one of her claimed mates, and nothing in either world will stop me.

  Chapter 8

  A couple of days passed where no one said anything. Allistair didn’t comment about our time in the car. Moira didn’t comment on how late I was getting home. Rysten didn’t ask what changed, or why I went back to normal. Laran didn’t comment on how I sent them away, but then Rysten still got to go with me. And Julian…he pretended that there was nothing there when he looked at me, but I could sense a growing attraction fighting his darker emotions every day. I never mentioned the jealousy in his eyes when the others would pick me up, because he never made a move. It wasn’t my business to intrude on his private thoughts just because I could read his feelings.

  Every day, one of them would ask me if I’d made up my mind about moving. Despite lack of insulation in my house, I always gave non-committal answers. Part of me was tempted, but my independence was holding me back, and for now they accepted that. So it was good enough for me.

  I was just finishing up shading on my client’s shoulder when I heard the door jingle.

  “I’ll be there in a moment,” I called, setting down the tattoo machine. After three sessions and over eighteen hours, this client’s upper back was finished. A beautifully articulate pocket watch was the centerpiece were it all started. I drew the design from his grandfather’s pocket watch that was given to him as a child. From there, a pattern of gears and spiral coils developed around it, branching over his shoulder and around his upper arm.

  This client was a watchmaker’s grandson who had gone on to be a mechanic. I incorporated his love of cars and wrenches and the end result was breathtaking. These were my favorite kind of projects because they were ones that held meaning. I priced myself in such a way that I tried to deter young kids that were looking for their girlfriend’s name on their chest or the latest trend in that dated an era. They were easy work, but they weren’t fulfilling. Not like this.

  “Let me get a mirror,” I said to him. The middle-aged man grunted in response. I walked to the other side of the small cubicle and grasped one of my middle-sized mirrors. I held it up at an angle to the man’s back so that the reflection in the small one was displayed on the full-length mirror in front of him.

  “It’s perfect,” he said. Moisture gathered in the corners of his eyes, but I pretended not to notice. I went through the motions of bandaging it up while I rattled off the instructions for care. He tipped me generously and thanked me for my work.

  As I escorted him around the side awning that separated us from the front lobby, my lungs constricted in my chest. A man with mousy brown hair and flat blue eyes waited for me. I smiled tentatively at him as I gave my client his aftercare sheet and watched him leave.

  “Hello, John. It’s been a while,” I said, leaning against the counter to give off the idea that I was relaxed. When really, I was anything but.

  John was Josh’s best friend. He was every bit as logical and straightforward as Josh had been…before everything happened.

  John nodded and took a deep, exhausted breath. The bags beneath his eyes told me why he was here.

  “It’s good to see you, Ruby. You look…well.” His eyes were carefully trained on my face. I wasn’t sure if his words were meant to be sarcastic or kind.

  “I am well. What can I do for you today?” I asked, cutting straight to the point. He blew out another breath that I almost thought was a sigh of relief. Maybe it was disappointment. I kept to myself and didn’t read into his emotions. That’s what always got me in trouble in the first place: the desire to fix them.

  I knew why he was here, and there was no fixing this. I only had lies meant to buy me time.

  “Josh is missing,” he started. Unlike Kendall, there wasn’t the conflict of dealing with the crying-girlfriend-but-also-a-sadistic bitch routine. John was just John. He was a simple man that acted without all the ulterior motives.

  “I heard.”

  “Look I—I know you probably don’t care. He cheated on you, and you broke up. Then he got obsessed and started acting all crazy—I mean, I’m sorry, Ruby. I’m sorry for all the shit he did. I told him it was wrong, but he didn’t care. He just lost it…but he’s missing now.” He swallowed hard and it pulled at my heart strings. “You have no reason to care. You’re probably thrilled, and I wouldn’t blame you. Not after the things he’s told me, but you gotta understand that deep down, he’s not a bad person. He’s just…human.”

  Human. Somehow it always comes back to that. I didn’t blame John for what Josh did any more than I blamed myself. They were all the same. As if the admittance of flaws was inherently a human trait and an excuse for being a monster.

  I wasn’t angry with John, but I think I was finally starting to get what Allistair meant.

  They were human, and I was not.

  With my heartstrings pulled taut, I cut them away. Severing myself, not from humanity per se, but from all notions of being something I’m not.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, John. I get that you’re his friend, but he did some really bad shit. I don’t know where he’s at, and I don’t want to know. I just wish that everyone would leave me out of it and let me heal.” My words were half-truths and full-lies, but they did the trick. John nodded in understanding and started backing away to leave.

  “Of course. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come. I just—” He stopped and took a deep breath. Grief etched every line of him, and Josh had only been missing six days. That fucker didn’t deserve a friend like John. He didn’t deserve to be missed. I told myself that when I ordered Rysten to kill him and I would continue to until the day I died.

  John stopped at the door and turned back.

  “I’m sorry for everything. I feel like I should warn you: Kendall is saying a lot of things right now. She’s got pictures and videos; god knows what else. I don’t know what happened, or if it even has anything to do with you. I hope for your sake it doesn’t.” That was the last he said to me before he walked out my door.

  I waited until I saw his car drive away before I made any move to leave. With Moira off for the afternoon, staying home to deal with the window, and none of the guys lurking in plain sight, I could never be too careful.

  I bundled up in two sweatshirts before grabbing my purse to brave the cold. Today the skies were a mix of cerulean and arctic blue: colors so vivid and striking when placed in a cloudless sky. It was the first day this week that rain, slush, or sleet wasn’t coming down on us. I was going to make the most of it.

  I locked up shop and traveled a few blocks down. The wind howled as it funneled down alleyways carrying dead leaves and bits of loose grit. The painted shops and side streets were one of my favorite sights in all of Portland. Antique stores, old books, art galleries, and more. On the streets in front of them, musicians dotted the block, playing a range of instruments—usually with such skill that they put big name musicians to shame. Further proof that success is not always equated by talent or capability.

  At the end of the block, food trucks sat around the perimeter of a square, packed so close together that some of them didn’t even have room to fit a person in between. The smell of fried fish, gyros, eggrolls, and tacos filled my nostrils as I inhaled deeply, my mouth watering as I waded through
the dense crowds of people to a truck on the other side of the square.

  Someone was just walking away from the counter when I walked up to my favorite Thai food truck in town. The woman taking orders smiled down at me.

  “It’s been awhile. What have you been up to?” she asked me.

  “Same ole’, same ole’. Business is booming. Makes it hard to get away from the shop,” I shrugged. The lie fell easily from my lips and she nodded in understanding.

  “Will today be your usual, then?”

  “Yes, please.” I paid in cash and went to stand on the other side of the sidewalk while I waited for my food. People of every age and ethnicity continued to pass by. Today was a particularly busy day given the number of people out and about with their kids. Across the street there was a park made for sitting. Most people took their food there on days like today when the weather was nice. Parents let their children run around and chase the pigeons. Men and women out for a run would take their dogs through and stop for a short break. Even college students congregated around the concrete steps, books splayed open and headphones on.

  An itch ran across the back of my neck. Something about this picture wasn’t right. The kids, the parents, the dogs, the people: they were all fine. I couldn’t tell what it was, but something just struck me as odd. It was almost like…

  It was almost like I was being watched.

  “Ruby!” The girl at the counter called out. Just as I moved, I finally noticed it in the periphery of my vision.

  At a distance, it was hard to tell. They wore non-descript clothing and a black hoodie. Underneath that hood, I could have sworn I saw an eye watching me.

  Red as a ruby.

  I grabbed my food and ran back to my spot to see if I could get a better look.

  Whoever it was, they were already gone.

  Chapter 9

  I left the shop earlier than usual on Friday, making sure to lock the door and check my surroundings as I went. No one had shown up since Allistair dropped me off and I wanted to get home while it was still light out. I was feeling paranoid after my sighting yesterday and the beast was back to shifting restlessly.

  Perched on my shoulder, Bandit clung to me as best he could through my many layers of clothing. The cold was bone-deep and the wind was brutal. Above me a storm was brewing, staining the skies an ominous shade of Cimmerian. The forecast on my phone called for snow, but if the ground wasn’t cold enough, it would be slush by morning. I mentally made a note to wear rain boots to Martha’s tomorrow as I got in my car.

  The engine cranked up groggily, but faithfully stayed running once it was on. My car liked the cold about as much as I did. I flipped on the heater and pointed to the dog bed I put in the passenger seat. Bandit dived from my shoulder to the plush bed. He curled into himself, purring when the heater finally warmed up. I rolled my eyes and pulled out of the parking lot.

  I stopped at Little Big Burger and got dinner through the drive-thru. I proceeded to spend the rest of the ride home trying to keep Bandit away from my food. Damn raccoon didn’t care that I was driving or that it was my food. No, he wanted my fucking truffle fries something fierce.

  I gave him one and snatched the bag away, ignoring the chitters of protest he gave me whilst cramming bites of fried goodness down his throat as fast as he could. You would think I was going to steal the single fry I gave him by the looks he gave me.

  “Unappreciative trash panda,” I grumbled to myself as I pulled in the driveway. I swung my car door open and Bandit jumped through it, racing up to the front door with half a French fry hanging out of his mouth.

  It only took him three seconds to start screeching because I wasn’t fast enough to his liking. I cursed under my breath as I approached the front door, guarding my dinner from the likes of him. I knew this little game. As soon as I opened the door, he’d make a move for my food, damn near tripping me and harassing me until I dropped it.

  Not this time, furball.

  I turned the key and swung the door open, wrapping both arms around my bag of food like a linebacker with a football. Bandit scurried inside to escape the cold and I followed.

  “Interesting decorating you have here.”

  The food tumbled from my hands and Bandit let out a screech as he scurried up to stand on my shoulder.

  “What are you doing in my house?” I asked, a sliver of the beast inside peeked out at the she-demon from Voodoo Doughnut. She was almost the same as I remembered her. Pointed teeth. Painted claws. White hair with pigtails that looked like they were dipped in purple.

  “I’m paying you a visit because we need to talk…without your bodyguards present.” She gave me a cheeky smile and the beast surged forward.

  “Speak.” My voice turned cold as Death. Stark as Famine. Rageful as War. Unforgiving as Pestilence. The unknown she-demon cocked her head, a flicker of fear entered her heart. It was only an ember, but an ember was all the beast needed.

  “Do you remember when we met, and I asked you about the demons who died outside the club?” she asked slowly. The beast did not reply and I continued to stare at her stone-faced. “I am searching for the rogue demon that caused their deaths. He belonged to my master. That same demon is following you.”

  She stared at me, waiting for some kind of reply. She was dealing with the wrong Ruby if that’s what she wanted, and she went about it in the worst way. The beast cared for very few, and even then, it wasn’t out of some notion of love. It was possession and desire. With all others, there was only one type of feeling that could even be considered an emotion, and that was rage.

  “Do you have a point you wish to make?” the beast asked. The she-demon did not appear to harbor ill will, but she broke into our house. That was reason enough to not recede until she leaves.

  “I would like to work with you to lure the rogue out,” she said, not sounding nearly as confident as when I’d walked in.

  “Not interested.”

  “What do you mean, not interested?” she asked. Her white brows drew together as she glared at me. I didn’t want to be involved. The Horsemen would figure out how to deal with the imp, or she would beat them to it. It didn’t particularly matter to me, so long as he stayed out of my life.

  “I do not trust you. There is something you are not saying. Leave now, or die,” the beast snarled at her. The she-demon turned ashen and pursed her lips.

  “You’ll regret this. I have information,” she said quietly. The beast didn’t give two fucks. I reached my hand out and snapped my fingers. Blue fire came to life.

  Holy shit.

  I started to panic a little bit and attempted to surge forward and put the fire out. She was firmly in control and had no intentions of stopping until the other demon left.

  “All things come with a price. I’m not willing to pay for spoken half-truths that will likely find me dead. Leave.” The final word was an order from the beast, but a plea from me. I wanted her gone before my other entity decided to burn the rest of my fucking house down along with her.

  She took one look at me, snapped her mouth shut, and walked right out my front door.

  We watched her through the newly installed window as she turned her face skyward. The clouds opened and rain began to pour down in heavy sheets. She stood there for what seemed like forever.

  And then she disappeared.

  The fire in my hand extinguished as I got shoved back into my own body. The beast receded quietly and did not argue for the rest of the evening. I cleaned up my dinner from off the concrete. By the time she left, it was already cold. All that remained of it now was the grease smudges left on my barren floor.

  Thirty minutes passed where I debated leaving to go get more food, and a space heater while I was at it. I had my mind made up when someone knocked on the door. I grabbed the baseball bat out of my closet and went to answer it.

  “Who is it?” I called.

  “Your favorite Horsemen,” Rysten called back. There was a thud outside my door. “I brought com
pany and food,” he continued. I put my eye to the peephole and grinned at what I saw. Rysten had a hand to the door frame, relaxed as could be. Next to him, Julian stood, stoic and aloof. He held a paper bag in one hand and eyed his brother warily. I put the bat behind the door and swung it open, plastering a smile on my face.

  “There you are, love,” Rysten smiled warmly. He moved in front of Julian and led me through my own living room and into the kitchen, leaving his brother and the food at the door in the pouring rain.

  “You mentioned food.” I turned to eye the paper bag as Julian came striding into the kitchen. He wore his impassive mask well, but displeasure radiated from him in waves.

  “Your house is freezing,” Julian commented while he unloaded the bag.

  “It’s a little bit better with the window replaced,” I said lightly.

  “And the living room insulation?” he asked. A bit more forceful than asked really. Not quite a demand, but his underlying point was clear.

  “Moira met with them yesterday. We were going to discuss our options over the weekend,” I replied stiffly.

  “If you moved in with us you wouldn’t need to worry about it,” he continued. I narrowed my eyes at him and stuffed my tongue in my cheek. Before they arrived, I had been debating on texting one of them to tell them what happened with the she-demon from Voodoo Doughnut. Now I wasn’t so sure, given that Julian would just use it in his arsenal of reasons why I should become dependent on the Horsemen, and then just skip out on life and fast forward to becoming the destined queen he so desperately wanted me to be.

  Rysten ran a gentle hand down my arm and motioned to the rickety table before us. “Why don’t we eat, and we can discuss you moving in later?” he suggested. Julian’s jaw did that tick thing it does when he’s angry, but we all took our seats and pretended that the tension wasn’t palpable.