Kissed by Night_a Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy

by Jasmine Walt

  And then everything goes black.

  25

  My eyes flutter open, and bright light shines down, making me close them again. It gets brighter, so bright it hurts. My chest hurts when I inhale, and the smell of blood surrounds me, harsh and metallic, making me sick. I’m lying down, and the rotting rubber belt of a machine is under my back.

  Something splashes on me, running down my face and cascading to the floor.

  “I cleanse this world of your sins.” A deep male voice rattles just feet from me, and I slit my eyes open again only to get hit with more water in the face.

  “I’m not a vampire,” I say, spitting out water. “Holy water isn’t going to work on me, dipshit.”

  “Ace?” Gemma groans. Oh my god, she’s still alive! I turn my head, blinking from the bright lights, and see her on the floor. Her hands are tied behind her back, and her feet are bound together. Her clothes are stained with blood and her face is pale.

  We need to get out of here.

  The killer steps back, moving the spotlight out of my eyes. I pull against my restraints, realizing that they’re tied around my wrists in self-tightening knots. The more I pull, the tighter they get. My feet are tied too, and the ropes burn the skin on my ankles when I attempt to pull them free.

  I called the station. Backup will be here soon. I turn my head to the other side and see my phone on the floor, smashed to pieces. We can be saved.

  “You’re both sinners,” the killer says, stepping around me and going to Gemma.

  “No! I’m not! I’m not!” Gemma tries to scramble away but can’t move. “Don’t hurt me! Please! Don’t hurt me!”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and pull as hard as I can against the restraints. I can get past the pain, but it’s no use. I can’t pull myself free.

  “I’m not a sinner!” Gemma pleads.

  “You are, and I’m going to make sure the world knows it.”

  “Why?” I shout. “Why are you doing this?”

  “People like her, like you”–he points at me with the baseball bat—“are a disgrace to humanity.” Sunlight filters through the window behind him, which is so dirty it blocks out most of the light.

  “We’re not the ones killing people, asshole.” I tug on the ropes again.

  “I am doing the world a favor.”

  “You’re fucking crazy, that’s what you are.” I’m egging him on, pissing him off, I know. But I’m hoping I can distract him from hurting Gemma and try to buy as much time as I can before backup arrives.

  He comes over and hits me hard across the face with the back of his hand. “You have the devil inside you.”

  “I wish I did. It’d feel a lot better than this.”

  He brings the bat down on my side, and pain radiates through my ribs. “Keep talking, whore. It’s not going to change your fate.”

  He kneels down in front of Gemma and wraps his hands around her throat. He’s going to strangle her. I have to do something.

  “Stop!” I yell, twisting my hands around to feel the rope. It’s old and fraying, digging into my skin and making me bleed.

  It can burn.

  I wrap my fingers around it and feel the fire erupt from inside me. The rope ignites, burning away from my hands. I push myself up and slide down the machine. With the pressure of being pulled tight gone, the knots around my ankles loosen, but the killer rounds on me before I can get my feet free.

  I hold up my hands, and he stops short, eyes widening with fear. I can see the reflection of the flames in his eyes, and I yank one foot free.

  “Maybe the devil is inside of me after all,” I sneer.

  He swings the bat at me, and I raise my arms to block it. It hits me hard in the palms of my hands, but the fire cushions the blow, protecting me somehow. I yank it back, out of his hands, and pull my other foot free.

  The bat catches on fire, glowing red-hot in my hands. I swing off the machine, head pounding and every muscle in my body aching.

  “You’re the disgrace.” I swing the bat, hitting him hard in the stomach. He pitches forward and I bring my knee up, catching him in the nose. Blood drips from his face and he stumbles to the ground, slipping on his own nose blood and cracking his head against the corner of a machine.

  I flick my hands, putting out the flames, not taking my eyes off the killer. He’s knocked out but not dead, and I’m not taking any chances. Walking backwards, I pick up the charred rope he had bound around my wrists. It’s burned and too short. Dropping it, I get the ropes from my ankles and bind his hands behind his back before going to Gemma.

  Her eyes are wide, but she’s not looking at me with fear.

  “Careful,” I tell her, helping her sit up. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

  “You…you saved me.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Thank me later. We need to get you out of here.” I undo the ropes around her wrists and move to the ones on her ankles. “Can you walk?”

  “I think so,” she pants, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I help her to her feet. The killer starts to stir and Gemma shrieks with fear. My fingers prickle with heat, reacting on their own accord to my fear. Helping Gemma over to another machine so she can sit, I go around to find my gun. It’s next to my smashed phone, and still has all its bullets, thank God.

  And then I hear sirens.

  The killer rolls over, struggling to get to his knees.

  “Move and I’ll shoot,” I threaten, pointing the gun at him.

  “I’ll tell them!” he cries. “I’ll tell them you have the devil’s power.”

  “Go ahead. I’m sure they’ll believe you.”

  He gets up and lunges at me, pulling at the ropes on his wrists. I step out of the way, turning on him and pistol-whipping him in the side of the head with my gun. He falls hard, face smacking into the cement floor.

  The sirens grow louder, and I take Gemma by the arm again, helping her move toward the door.

  “We’re down here!” I shout once I hear my fellow officers enter the building. I wipe blood off my face, realizing for the first time that I’m bleeding, and turn to Gemma. I want to tell her this isn’t over, that I know what she and Marissa did, but I can’t. She looks so defeated, so weak.

  Instead, I hook my arm under hers and tell her it’s going to be okay.

  26

  I knock on the door frame of the open hospital room. Gemma lifts her head off the pillow and tries to sit up when she sees me.

  “I brought you flowers,” I say, walking in.

  “Ace.” She winces as she pushes off the mattress, forgetting she can just raise the head of her bed up. “I could thank you a million times and it’ll never be enough. You saved my life.”

  I set the flowers down on the little round table in the corner of the room. Crossing my arms, I go to the window and look out at the city below.

  “We need to talk.”

  My words bring the temperature down a notch in the room, and when I turn around, Gemma’s brows are furrowed.

  “You know,” she whispers hoarsely.

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “Did you know before…before I was kidnapped?”

  “Yeah.”

  She wraps her arms around herself. “You knew and you still saved me.”

  “Of course I did!” I spit. “I’m not a monster. Not like some people.”

  “Ace,” she pleads. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t? You just pretended to be my friend so you could try to kill me? Yeah, it’s not like that at all. What a great fucking friend you are.”

  “Let me explain.”

  “What good will that do?”

  “Ace, please.” Tears fall from her eyes. “You are my friend! I…I didn’t want to do it. They made me.”

  “Give me a break.” I roll my eyes, too angry to stay and hear more. “You used me this whole time.”

  “No, I didn’t! I didn’t even tell them I met you, and then they found out and made me get information on you.”

&n
bsp; “They made you? Come on, Gemma, you’re a grown-ass adult. Did they hold a gun to your head and force you?”

  “No.” Her lip quivers and she starts to cry. “They said if I did this they’d let me be part of their coven. I…I just want a family again.”

  My jaw tenses, but I refuse to let myself feel bad for her. She made her bed. She gets to lie in it.

  “You want to be part of a family that hurts people for no reason?”

  She shakes her head. “They told me you were bad. Part of a coven who turned their backs on their fellow witches.”

  “What?”

  “I…I don’t really know the details. Marissa told me that her grandmother needed help with a spell to save a sick child and your family wouldn’t help her. There were rumors you come from a long line of really powerful sorcerers. The kid died. Marissa made it seem like you were dangerous and needed to be stopped.”

  “You believed the wrong person. And look where that got you.”

  Gemma starts to cry again, and I feel a little bad. I understand wanting a family more than anything. I really do. But not at the cost of innocent lives.

  “I’m so sorry, Ace. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but please know I’m so, so sorry.”

  I close my eyes in a long blink. “If Marissa thought I was so bad and wanted revenge, why didn’t she come after me herself?”

  “She said you had an army of demons guarding you. That’s why she sent the ghouls. And when you…you…”

  “When I didn’t die?”

  “Yeah. When I saw you the next day, I was so relieved you were okay, but Marissa said it was proof. There’s no way a witch could fight them all off. Something is protecting you.”

  “What she called demons are more like angels. She got one thing right at least. They are protecting me, and fighting off those ghouls was child’s play for them. The only thing holding them back from going after everyone involved in this is me asking them not to.”

  Gemma casts her eyes down, and I’m starting to feel torn. I’m mad at her. She was wrong. At the same time, I can see where she’s coming from, even though it doesn’t offer an excuse.

  But does it mean I can forgive her?

  “Where is she?” I ask, and Gemma knows who I’m talking about. I stopped by Marissa’s house before I came here, ready to rip her to pieces myself. Legally, though, not physically. She planted false evidence and is facing jail time. But her house was empty and she never showed up for work.

  “I don’t know. I called and she didn’t answer. I thought she’d come see me.”

  “Do yourself a favor and move on. She never cared about you, Gemma.”

  Someone else knocks on the door, and Gemma’s Amish aunt and uncle rush in, throwing their arms around her before they start scolding her for moving away and into a dangerous city.

  Gemma introduces me as the police officer who saved her life, and her aunt and uncle thank me over and over.

  “You should come back to the farm,” her aunt tells her, brushing her hair out of her face. “Enough with this nonsense. It’s time you come home.”

  I look Gemma right in the eyes. “I think that’s a good idea too.”

  I sink onto my bed, tired, sore, and fighting off a killer headache. I can’t get Gemma’s words out of my head. My family had magic. We’re rumored to be powerful.

  They refused to help.

  Why? They had to have a good reason. If there’s truth to this at all. Tears fall from my eyes, at first out of anger.

  I’m mad at myself.

  At Gemma.

  At my family for keeping magic a secret from me. Didn’t someone realize it would all come crashing down at some point? And if that someone knew…they could have saved my parents.

  “No,” I say, and wipe away a tear. They didn’t know. Because if they did, then that changes everything. Pushing off the mattress, I go to my closet and pull out that stupid book I bought from Lyra. The section from my grimoire about summoning spirits has yet to be translated, and I doubt anything in this mass-produced book is correct. Still, I’m going to try it. If I can talk to my mom, just for a minute, I can get all the answers I need.

  The book says I need a mirror, three white candles, sandalwood incense, and an object that belonged to the deceased. I get everything I need and take it upstairs, holding my mom’s necklace in one hand. I light the incense and the candles and look down into the mirror.

  “I summon you, spirit, to cross the veil,” I whisper over and over. I clutch the necklace and look in the mirror.

  Nothing happens.

  I try again. And again. And again.

  “Stupid spell,” I say, and blow out the candles, not bothering to close the circle since nothing fucking happened anyway. I clean up, shower, and get dressed in PJs, and then go downstairs, cuddling on the couch with a bottle of wine and Netflix. I’m drifting off to sleep when the floor creaks.

  “Ace?” Gilbert calls, stepping into the living room. I sit up, catching the bottle of wine before it spills. Though there’s not much left to spill out.

  “What the fuck happened?” Gil’s eyes widen, seeing the bruises on me, and he rushes over. The rest of the guys follow, and their eagerness to make me feel better does me in.

  “You could say I had a rough day.” I rub at my eyes and tell them everything that happened. When I’m done, Jacques takes my hand, gently pulling me off the couch.

  “You need to rest. You’re exhausted, physically and emotionally.”

  “I feel it,” I admit, and go upstairs with him. He wraps me in his arms and lies down in bed with me.

  “I’m so sorry, Acelina.”

  “I feel like the world’s worst detective. I didn’t see any of that coming.”

  “It’s easy to turn a blind eye on people we care about. You figured it out. You saved Gemma, and you caught a killer. That’s a lot for one day.” He smiles and kisses my forehead. “Lie down with me and get some sleep.”

  “I can do that. Thanks, Jac…for everything.”

  He kisses me softly. “Of course, Ace. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Somewhere around three in the morning, I wake with a start. Jac is still in bed with me, and he’s asleep. Tightness grips my chest, and it’s the same feeling I had the night my parents died. I sit up, ready to wake up Jac and tell him I had a nightmare when I see someone cross the hall.

  Her hair blows behind her, and the smell of lavender fills my nose. It’s familiar and calming. Without thinking, I get out of bed, quietly slip across the room, and follow her.

  She’s a step ahead, going in and out of my sight. Her long white gown swirls around her feet, and she turns back, eyes meeting mine in the dark.

  “Ace?” Hasan says, looking up at me from the TV as I go through the living room. “Are you okay?”

  I don’t answer him or look away from the woman. I just shake my head, picking up the pace so I don’t lose her again. The library doors creak open, and by the time I get in there and turn on the light, she’s gone. I slowly turn around, knowing she was in here somewhere.

  Something bumps on the floor, and I whirl back, finding the copy of Emma that I keep on the coffee table now on the floor. I pick it up, and the cover is warm, as if someone’s been holding it. I cradle the book to my chest, and the scent of lavender grows strong again.

  The lights flicker above me. Something swooshes behind me. I turn around and am face-to-face with the woman. Her green eyes sparkle and her full pink lips curve into a smile when she sees me.

  The air leaves my lungs, and it feels like my heart stops beating. I stare at her, unable to move, breathe, or blink for a solid ten seconds. And then it all comes rushing back, and I gulp in air.

  “Mom?”

  To be continued…

  Ace’s journey will continue in HIDDEN BY NIGHT, Book 3 of Her Dark Protectors! Please make sure to sign up for Jasmine’s newsletter so you can be notified when the book is released!

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  Also by Jasmine Walt

  Dragon’s Gift - The Trilogy:

  Coauthored with May Sage

  Dragon’s Gift

  Dragon’s Blood

  Dragon’s Curse

  The Legend of Tariel:

  Kingdom of Storms

  Den of Thieves

  Empire of Magic—Coming Soon!

  The Baine Chronicles Series:

  Burned by Magic

  Bound by Magic

  Hunted by Magic

  Marked by Magic

  Betrayed by Magic

  Deceived by Magic

  Scorched by Magic

  Taken by Magic

  The Baine Chronicles: Fenris’s Story:

  Forsaken by Magic (Novella)

  Fugitive by Magic

  Claimed by Magic

  Saved by Magic

  The Nia Rivers Adventures:

  Dragon Bones

  Demeter’s Tablet

  Templar Scrolls

  Serpent Mound

  Eden’s Garden

  The Gatekeeper Chronicles:

  Coauthored with Debbie Cassidy

  Marked by Sin

  Hunted by Sin

  Claimed by Sin

  About the authors

  JASMINE WALT is obsessed with books, chocolate, and sharp objects. Somehow, those three things melded together in her head and transformed into a desire to write, usually fantastical stuff with a healthy dose of action and romance. Her characters are a little (okay, a lot) on the snarky side, and they swear, but they mean well. Even the villains sometimes. When Jasmine isn’t chained to her keyboard, you can find her practicing her triangle choke on the jujitsu mat, spending time with her family, or binge-watching superhero shows on Netflix. You can connect with her on Instagram at @jasmine.walt, on Facebook, or at www.jasminewalt.com.