Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection

by C. M. Stunich

  “Shoot them.”

  “What happens if I don’t?”

  “Then you’ll be expelled from Hell, never to return. Until you die, of course.”

  I’m not surprised by that. After all I’ve done, of course I’m going to Hell. I’m just hoping that I can save Tris from ending up here as well. She’s so pure, so innocent. I need to get her out of here.

  I pick up my bow, my body as tense as the string.

  I’m doing this for my sister.

  For her, I’ll sacrifice everything. Everyone.

  Plutus is already in Hell. Hopefully, that means that he can’t die.

  “Shoot them.”

  Meg is growing impatient. It’s time to lose some of my light. It’s time to make my first kill.

  Except… do I need to kill? She said shoot. Not shoot dead.

  I pull back the string, the arrow pointing at Plutus’s heart. He’s quiet, not moving, not trying to stop me. He’s too far away to see his expression. I hope he’ll understand. My muscles are shaking under the strain, but I keep the bow in this position, my head spinning.

  “Forgive me,” I whisper and let the arrow fly.

  His scream pierces my heart. The light around him disappears and all I can see is his dark figure fall to the ground. He’s quiet then. Hopefully he’s not dead. Please let him not be dead.

  Tears are running down my face as I point the second arrow at the middle target. Yes, it’s a target, not a person. And it certainly doesn’t look like Noella, the woman from the shelter. I shoot before she can even say something, and she crumples to the floor, soundless.

  “Would you really shoot me?” a very familiar voice asks. It’s the person on the left. The light around her increases until I can see her properly.

  I’m staring at myself.

  Bloody me, Ciera.

  “I’m supposed to shoot myself?” I ask incredulously.

  “Look closer,” the Fury says surprisingly patiently. At her words, the light around target-me increases. I look younger than I am now, maybe a few years. My hair is shorter and my smile wider. Yes, I’m smiling. Target-me seems happy, innocent, carefree. Have I ever been that way? I can’t remember a time when I was ever this innocent. Maybe in my early childhood, but things went downhill pretty fast. I’ve had to fight for myself for longer than I can remember.

  “She’s the you that could have been,” Meg explains softly. “You will have to get rid of her. She’s the hopes you had, the aspirations. In your heart, you still cling to her. You still have hope that one day, you’ll turn into her. That you can reclaim the life you never had. You need to shoot her.”

  “What will happen to me when I do?”

  The softness in Meg’s expression disappears. “Shoot her.”

  Well, I doubt it’ll kill me. That’s not the point of this whole thing. She said she wanted me to lose my light. The thing that set me apart from the other beings in Hell.

  She wants me to become more of a sinner. Less good.

  I’ve been on that path for a long time, not just since I started working for Lucifer. I’ve played with fire, I’ve breathed in ash. The spark of innocence inside of me has gradually been chipped away, until only a tiny bit was left. Now, I’m about to kill it off once and for all.

  I take a deep breath and shoot.

  I shoot myself in the chest. Not in the shoulder like I did with the other two.

  Pain flares through me and I collapse before I can even scream. The bow clatters to the ground, the arrows spilling from the quiver like the liquid that is oozing from my heart. I clutch my chest and shudder when my fingers come in contact with blood.

  I’m actually bleeding. Real me, not just target-me.

  Pain is racing through me and I wait for unconsciousness to take me away, to let me die, but I stay awake, fully aware of the agony ripping my chest apart.

  “Let her go,” Meg whispers from above. “Let her flow out of you. Remove your hands.”

  My arms move before I can think about what I’m doing. I take my hands off the wound, lying back until I’m looking at the blackness that is the sky. Now that I’m no longer trying to stem the blood flow, the pain decreases a little.

  “That’s it,” the Fury says quietly. “Leave her behind. She’s no longer part of you. You don’t need her. Embrace the darkness.”

  One last flash of pain squeezes my heart and I whimper, but then it’s gone as if it was all just a dream. I clutch my chest, expecting my shirt to be soaked, but it’s just as dry as it was before I shot target-me. There’s no rip in the fabric either.

  I scramble to my feet and look at where the three targets were. The left one is gone, but the other two are still there, two dark figures lying on the ground.

  I ignore Meg and run to them, checking on Noella first. The arrow is embedded in her shoulder, but it’s not bleeding much.

  “Don’t worry, child,” she whispers. “You had no choice. Save your sister.”

  I reach out to touch her, but she disappears into nothingness, not leaving even a drop of blood behind that could prove whether she was real or not.

  I run to Plutus and kneel by his side. His chest is heaving irregularly and he’s wheezing with every breath. Did I hit his lungs? I thought shooting them in the shoulder would be safe. Ish. I aimed high enough to avoid hitting lungs and major arteries… but he’s not looking good. His skin is pale, almost deathly white. He’s not wearing a shirt and my eyes flick over his torso, his chiselled muscles, the hair forming a triangle on his chest. There’s another line of hair further down, disappearing under the rim of his black leather trousers.

  No time to think of stuff like that.

  “I need more light!” I shout to no one in particular, but someone’s listening. The glow around us increases until I can see the wound in more detail than I would have liked. It’s a gaping hole in his shoulder, much larger than the arrow should have been able to cause. Dark blood is oozing from it, running down his arm and pooling in a threatening puddle around him.

  “Plutus!”

  He doesn’t respond. His eyes are shut, but his face is torn into a grimace of pain. I take off my shirt and press it on his wound, hoping that it’ll stem the blood flow somewhat. If until now I have doubting whether he was real or not, the feel of his wet skin beneath my fingers dispels all such doubts.

  I shot Plutus.

  I may have killed him.

  If Meg hadn’t made me murder my innocence already, I would have lost it now anyway. For all the terrible things Luke made me do, I never had to kill anyone. My soul was grey, but not black.

  Now, I can feel the darkness seep into it. Where in Hell do the murderers reside? I better take a good look at it cause that is where I’ll end up.

  Plutus groans and my eyes flicker to his face, searching for a sign that he’s awake.

  “Plutus?”

  No reaction. I don’t know why I do it, but I bend down and press my mouth on his. It’s impulse, instinct, sin.

  His lips are hard and dry, not like Maro’s soft and subtle ones. I kiss him, desperately, not wanting to let him go. He can’t die.

  He groans again and slowly, his lips begin to move. He’s returning my kiss. I pull back, wanting to let him breathe, but he slings an arm around me, holding me in place. How does he suddenly get the strength to move? A moment ago, he was lying there, dying, now he’s kissing me passionately, his tongue nudging my lips to open, his arm touching my back possessively.

  I let him in, opening my mouth, meeting his tongue with mine, tasting him. I close my eyes, focussing on his touch, on the hope that is spreading in my chest. Maybe he isn’t dying after all.

  Suddenly, something sharp touches my bottom lip. I wince and pull back in surprise, opening my eyes to look at what cut me. Plutus stares back at me, his eyes yellow, his pupils large and black. His expression is changing, turning wilder the longer he looks at me. The intensity of his gaze is pulling me in, making me want to kiss him again, forever.


  He opens his mouth, exposing the glistening fangs that have grown where his incisors were before.

  “Get back,” he growls, his teeth lengthening even further. His eyes tell me not to leave, and so does my heart, but I realise that something is happening, something big, and I need to keep my distance. I rip myself away from him, getting up and stumbling backwards a few steps.

  “I love when he does that,” Meg says, suddenly behind me. “It’s so masculine.”

  “What the Hell are you talking about?” I ask, annoyed at how she seems to be ogling Plutus. It’s almost as if I’m jealous, but I shouldn’t be. I don’t really know him, and while I may have kissed him, that was just to… well. Mouth to mouth, perhaps?

  “Watch, you’re missing the best bit,” the Fury says in excitement and I look just in time to see Plutus’s thick leather jeans rip apart. Wow. I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect him to hunch over and turn into a wolf, either.

  A massive, giant, dark wolf with legs almost as tall as me. His eyes are glowing bright yellow, reminding me of the angelic glow Maro had back on Earth.

  “You didn’t think they called him ‘wolf’ for no reason, did you?” Meg chuckles and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go back, he’ll follow.”

  The blackness around us convulses, embracing us before spitting us out again, back in front of the gates of the City of Dis.

  17

  Ceb is the first to greet me. He strides over, picks me up in his muscular arms and crushes me against his chest. I can barely breathe.

  “Put her down,” Maro says. His voice is clipped, brittle.

  Ceb heeds his order and settles me back on my feet. His eyes rove over me as he takes in my appearance. Seemingly satisfied, he gives me a wink. But I can’t even smile. I can’t even look at him, not after what I’ve done. I drop my gaze to the stony ground.

  “You alright?” Ceb asks gently. He lifts my chin forcing my eyes to meet his.

  “No,” I murmur.

  “Just give her space to breath. Ciera doesn’t need you smothering her,” Maro snaps.

  “No need to be so short, Maro. Just checking she’s still in one piece. You know as well as I do what the Furies are capable of.”

  Ceb drops his hand, and I almost, almost, take a step into his arms. But I don’t deserve his comfort. I don’t deserve anything.

  Maro gazes at me briefly, but it’s long enough for me to see his anger. He knows what I’ve done. He knows what I’ve lost.

  “This is all really touching, but I could do with a hand,” Plutus says from behind us.

  I look over my shoulder, relief colouring my vision for the moment. He’s no longer in wolf form but he is completely and utterly naked. I avert my eyes, but not before I see pity in his.

  Fuck. It wasn’t all a bad dream. I shot him with an arrow, which must mean I shot Noella and… Well, I can’t think about that last part. I can’t.

  Forcing myself back in the moment I look beyond Plutus. Meg is nowhere to be seen and neither are the two other Furies. In fact, all the angels lining the city wall seem to have disappeared too.

  “You’re naked and covered in blood, mate,” Ceb says, stating the obvious.

  “That’s right, Einstein.” Plutus rolls his eyes, then winces as he takes a step towards us.

  “What happened to your shoulder?” Maro asks. If I didn’t know him well enough, I would think he cared. He glances at me, then back at Plutus. Neither of us answer him.

  “What the fuck happened?” he demands.

  “Ciera shot me with her arrow,” Plutus explains. He doesn’t appear cross, just resigned. It’s as though he’s done this kind of thing before.

  Ceb whistles. “So that’s what Meg got you to do. She’s a first-class bitc---”

  “Shut your mouth, Berus. Do you want the gates to slam shut? Look,” Maro points to the city’s entrance. The gates are wide open. Beyond I can see people milling around, just like in any city. It doesn’t look very hellish, but then again, if there’s one thing I’ve learnt in Hell, it’s that looks can be very deceiving.

  “You turned into a wolf,” I blurt out, my eyes roving over Plutus’ body. I can’t help but notice the size of his manhood. I mean for crying out loud, that thing is dangerous. Heat fills my belly at the memory of our kiss and the hunger that had blazed in his eyes.

  “You seem surprised?” Plutus laughs, then sucks in a breath at the pain it causes him.

  I wince, watching the blood seep through his hand. “I’m sorry. I had no choice.”

  “We both know that’s not true. I don’t blame you for it, Ciera. You did what you had to do,” he replies.

  “Are you bleeding still? I mean, do we need to get you a doctor or something? Are there doctors down here?” I ramble, knowing how stupid that sounds.

  Ceb chuckles. “No doctors. Unless you count Jack the Ripper…”

  “He’s down here?” My mouth drops open in shock. I remember the history lessons at school and the gross images of women carved into pieces. One theory was that he was a royal physician. Could that actually be true?

  “Well, he’s hardly going to be in Heaven now is he?” Maro practically snarls. “He murdered people, Ciera. That’s a boundary crossed. A soul doesn’t get any darker than that. He’s in the lowest circle of Hell because of it.” Maro stares at me meaningfully.

  “What?” I bristle, feeling immediately defensive. I’m a murderer now too. I’m pretty sure I killed Noella, and I know I killed the goodness within myself. It ran out of me, hot and thick, only five minutes ago.

  “Come on. Let’s get into the city before the Furies change their minds and close the damn gates,” Maro says. He doesn’t bother to glance my way as he strides off towards the entrance. My heart should feel heavy. Instead, I just feel empty. I no longer feel whole. It’s as though a swirling pit of darkness has taken hold in my chest and I am getting closer and closer to falling in its depths.

  Sighing, I follow Maro through the gates of the city. I want to tell him that I had no choice. I had to do it for Tris. Everything I do is for her. Always for her. My misery is a small price to pay to save her soul.

  “Don’t worry about Maro, he’ll come around. He’s an angel, he won’t stay mad for long,” Ceb says, falling in step beside me.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Plutus laughs, keeping up with our pace despite the obvious pain he is in. “Maro is about as angelic as those fuckers up there.”

  He points upwards. The fallen angels have returned as sentries on top of the wall. They eye us with vague interest as we step into the city. The air seems thicker here. It smells of smoke and ash. It smells like the blood that poured away from my chest.

  “Maro needs to fucking own up,” he continues.

  “What do you mean, Plutus? Just spit it out. All this vaguebooking. Just tell me what you know or shut the hell up. I’m sick of hearing your shit!” I snap, the whirling darkness whipping up a storm inside me.

  Plutus grunts some remark under his breath, but still doesn’t elaborate. Good. I’m done with playing pawn between him and Maro. I don’t know what their issue is, and frankly, I don’t want to know. They both might kiss like a fucking god, but that doesn’t mean I should treat them like such. Ceb snorts, amused by my outburst. I glare at him and he soon shuts up too.

  The four of us pass through the gates into the City of Dis. I’m not sure what I’m more surprised by, the unremarkable look of it, or the fact that there is a damn pub with a flashing neon sign saying “Highway to Hell”.

  “Is that a joke?” I ask, pointing to the pub. All of a sudden I’ve got quite the thirst on.

  “No joke, Ciera. Fancy getting pissed?” Ceb asks, a mischievous look on his face.

  Frankly, I could use a drink. I could use several. If fucking Jack the Ripper is down here, then I’m going to need as much dutch courage as possible to get through the next circle of Hell.

  “Well, Plutus really needs to put some clothes on before he pokes
someone’s eye out with that,” I say, pointing to his manhood. “And I could use a drink. So, sure let’s do this.” I stride towards the pub, leaving Ceb and Plutus chuckling behind me.

  It’s unremarkable inside the pub. I don’t know what I was expecting, but a couple of old dudes nursing half a pint and a buxom blonde at the bar wasn’t it.

  “Ah, Plutus, long time no see. Looks like you need some of my healing tonic,” the blonde laughs, pouring a triple shot of whisky into a glass. She smiles slowly, her scarlet lips full and sexy.

  Plutus saunters over to the bar. His swagger is ridiculous. I must admit, I do enjoy the rear end view, though I’d never tell him that. He leans over, plants a kiss on the barmaid’s cheek, then downs the shot before wandering off to a room behind the bar.

  “Where’s he going?” I ask Ceb, who’s taken a seat at a grimy table next to me. He picks up a beer mat and twiddles with it.

  “To get some damn clothes, I hope.”

  “Hmm, looks like the barmaid is going to give him a hand with that,” I mumble as I watch her follow him across the pub. A streak of jealousy jabs at my heart, but I push it away. We’ve shared a kiss in a moment of stress. So what? It doesn’t have to mean anything. It certainly doesn’t seem to mean anything to him, given the sounds of giggles I hear from the back room.

  “Better get myself a drink then,” Ceb says, pushing back the chair and standing. “What can I get you?”

  “Something strong.” Something that will numb the damn pain.

  Ceb nods his head and leaps over the bar in one smooth motion. He starts pulling bottles from the shelf and knocking back mouthfuls in between pouring. He’s like bloody Tom Cruise in Cocktail, except he’s twice the size with a ginger beard and turns into a hellhound when the moment takes him.

  “I need a moment to talk to you, Ciera,” Maro says, making me jump.

  “For crying out loud, Maro, don’t creep up on me like that.”

  Maro takes hold of my arm, none too gently, and begins to pull me away from the bar. “You need to come with me. Now.”