Hex Goddess (All My Exes Die from Hexes Book 3)

by Killian McRae

  Sliding off the edge of the bed, Persephone crossed the bedroom and slipped out into the hall, closing the door behind her. “Sure, no problem. Call me if you need anything.”

  THE REALLY WEIRD THING wasn’t Riona falling asleep in the tub; that she could have dismissed as run-of-the-mill exhaustion. What really surprised her in retrospect was the tub’s obscene circumference, which made it possible to nod off while floating on her back.

  The feel of robust hands working away the kinks in her shoulders, rubbing away the effects of sleeping on the ground in a forest and then hiking across Elysium, made her well aware that she was no longer in Kansas. Riona relaxed on the surface of the water, pulling herself into the shell of his embrace.

  “This is supposed to be our honeymoon,” Jerry whispered into her ear.

  “Just be satisfied I’m dreaming about you.”

  His mouth teased her earlobe. “Be dreaming about me satisfying you.”

  “I remember this.” She let out a soft moan as her eyes fluttered closed and all the cells in her body experienced his caress. “I remember your touch.”

  “As if you could ever forget.” She felt Jerry’s laugh rumbling against her back. “What else do you remember?”

  “Or, should he say, who else?”

  Water spilled over the edge of the tub as Riona and Jerry both jolted. Her eyes flew open, instantly burning a glare into Marc’s chest where he sat on the other side of the tub.

  Jerry slapped the top of the water. “Even in your dreams, I have to compete with this guy?”

  It didn’t take Marc long to master a demonic grin, one that promised a sin worthy of forsaking salvation. A hot flash of his eyes in her direction spiked her pulse, sending green lights to other parts of her body that weren’t so holy.

  “I’m here because she wants satisfaction. Angels have notorious libidos, and nobody has spread Riona’s wings for far too long. Her desire invoked me.”

  Jerry’s fingers dug into Riona’s arms as he spun her around to face him, putting her back to Marc. “Riona, is that true?”

  Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, she raced to think of something that would be truthful, yet kind. No lettuce at that salad bar, however. The more she sputtered, the more concerned Jerry’s expression grew, and the more she knew she couldn’t deny the temptation presented by the fallen priest.

  She gasped when Marc’s chest pressed into her back and his mouth came down on her neck, cutting off any further attempts to have a complete thought. “Of course, it’s true,” she heard Marc muttering between laps at her neck and jawbone. “And what Riona wants, Riona gets. So, I suggest you shut up and start giving her what she wants, Romani.”

  What? Did Marc just suggest what she thought he did? Did he want Jerry to take her right here with him as a witness?

  She didn’t have to wait as he illustrated his point. This was clearly a workshop, and not a lecture. The cadence was as slow as it was intoxicating. Jerry’s mouth moved along her neck in pace with her need. Meanwhile, Marc pressed deep, desperate, demonic kisses on her mouth, his tongue calling hers out like a snake charmer while his hands explored her body.

  “This can’t be happening!” she huffed as Jerry shifted beneath her, pushing deeper.

  She couldn’t tell whose hips belonged to whom, or which one of her men’s hands were where. All she sensed were about a million nerve endings in her body, and each one of them was ready to blow.

  “Damn it, I love you, woman.” Jerry braced her hips and worked in tangent with Marc’s possession.

  As the rhythm moved from insane to inhuman, she began coming to pieces. At the same time, her throat constricted. Neither of her lovers’ hands were on her neck, but somehow, the air she desperately needed wasn’t available. Riona gasped as she broke apart, unstitching the seams of her humanity, transforming into energy and light, ecstasy and mist, as her physical body collapsed in on itself.

  And then, she found herself on the floor.

  Unfortunately, not her own.

  A dark-haired man, dripping sex, held her in a lustful gaze through his onyx eyes. He was naked as nature, eyeing her across the strange room from a canopy bed festooned with gossamer curtains that drifted on a gently caressing breeze. Balancing a book in one hand, and a half-eaten apple in the other, a wicked smile shone on his luscious face.

  “Think of the devil, and she appears.”

  Of course, his voice could have cornered the velvet market, right?

  He snapped the book closed as Riona sat up and pivoted. She was trying her best to fold herself into something resembling discretion. The unease of being unclothed was clearly one-sided; and he showed no signs of embarrassment. If anything, he seemed to welcome her inspection.

  “Persephone told me to keep my distance. But when you show up in my room, bare and climaxing before my eyes, and before I’ve even had the opportunity to touch you, it makes it hard to resist at least saying, hello. I think introductions are in order.”

  “You’re Hades, and you have no clothes on.”

  “Neither do you, but at Ieast, I have the decency not to be dripping wet in the most boring of ways.”

  She wasn’t sure how she got here, but her concerns lay elsewhere at the moment. Namely, how in the hell would she get herself out? If only she could magic some clothes on like she did before, but neither clothing nor magic seemed willing to give her the time of day at the moment. Looking up, she spotted a tapestry about the size of bathmat, which she saw as her salvation. Rising up, she ripped it off the wall, and plastered it against her dripping form. Her slick backside felt the cool, stone edifice of the wall.

  “Just look away and I’ll leave.”

  Hades clicked his tongue and pointed a finger toward a door at the far end of the room. “There’s two rather strapping cerebi right outside. Loyal soldiers, but not the most capable when separating civility from composure. How far do you think you would make it before they had you down on all fours and barking?”

  Riona never witnessed someone sauntering off a bed, but that was the only way to describe how the Lord of the Underworld moved. Within fifteen seconds, she already decided that Hades never stirred with a secondary thought. The way he pitched back on his arms and pushed his body over the edge, moving so the muscles in his shoulders and biceps stretched and strained under his flesh, while confining her eyes to his form, told her he engineered every twitch. How could Persephone have access to someone so bone-chilling without spending a good portion of the day behind closed doors?

  She watched with one eyebrow raised as Hades crossed to the other side of the room, instead of toward her. He slipped through a door and out of view. She leaned forward, balancing her weight on her arms and not even noticing how it pressed her cleavage up. Where did he go? And what was he doing? And... could she sneak another peek at his delectable ass – for research purposes, of course. She wouldn’t cheat on Jerry, even if she’d done just that in one of the best sex dreams she ever had. However, one could argue that he’d been party to it, so technically... Even the former ruler of the Underworld and current renouncer of underwear could not break her resolve. Riona tiptoed across the space, careful not to let her feet fall too heavily. She just reached the closet door when he rounded the corner.

  Riona leapt back, but now that Hades was wearing a robe, looking at him straight on – in the face - was a bit easier.

  “Playing I Spy, keystone?” His hand went behind the door of the closet, and returned a moment later bearing something long, silken, and white.

  A robe! Riona snatched it out of his hands, getting inside of it faster than a frog’s tongue on a firefly.

  “Thanks.”

  “Whenever I am alone with a beautiful woman, I make it my ardent goal to provide her with whatever she desires. But I hope that if you’ll be stopping in the future, particularly au naturel, you’ll do me the honor of knocking first. You’ll be welcomed, I assure you, with or without attire.” He licked his lower lip, sending ch
ills down her spine.

  His tone confused her. A bit playful, but tinged by annoyance too. Perhaps it was because her “angelic light” called to him and she was off limits? Frustration drove lesser men to complication.

  Making her way to the door before her mind made its way into the gutter, she replied, “I will. I mean, I won’t. Come, that is. I mean, to your room. I didn’t mean in your room.”

  Although I apparently already did that once, she chided herself inwardly. And, perhaps, recalling the view that she beheld, that wasn’t surprising. Was he serious? If she wanted to, would he...?

  Oh, hell no! What the hell? Were her teenage hormones lying dormant and choosing to wake up now? At the worst possible time?

  Riona sighed, pressing her temple against the fingertips of her right hand. “What I mean is, thank you for the robe. I’ll do my best not to disturb you in the future. I don’t even know how I got here to begin with.”

  “Yes, that is curious,” she heard Hades saying behind her. “Mortals like the Pure Souls can’t use magic in our realm. Which means, you’re something other than mortal.”

  She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “I guess you’re one of those rare hunks who’s blessed with both looks and brains, huh?”

  She heard a rumble of low, sultry laughter. “Not so unlike yourself, I’m sure. I knew you were coming, I just didn’t you expect to be so...” He searched for the right word, “...accessible. Good night, and I hope you have more sweet dreams. But judging by the way your eyes are tracking me, don’t be surprised if I show up in a few more of them.”

  Chapter 8

  “So, you’re not a witch?”

  Dee had to keep his eyes from rolling, while realizing Jerry didn’t have the number for “tact” in his contacts.

  Anwen didn’t bother looking up from her phone at all, but offered him a half-grin. “No, but I know a few tricks. I stopped a bullet from a gun in midair with just my will. You think I picked that up in catechism? And then there’s the three pints I got for us without even ordering.”

  “I ordered the drinks!” Jerry snapped. “Another ten pounds, by the way. Look, we’re kinda in a hurry, so please just entertain my partner here, whatever his fancy insists he must talk to you about, and let us be on our way. I got more pressing issues than chit-chatting with a quartergod that has a ‘tude.”

  Dee agreed with Jerry in spirit. They definitely needed to get to the talking part. With only an hour before they had to head back to the airport to catch their connection, there wasn’t much time. Plus, her accent was so damned cute, he just wanted to hear her say anything. Bonus points if it was something that pissed off Jerry.

  He reached across the table and wrapped his fingers around Anwen’s wrist, hoping to distract her attention from the screen. The moment his skin made contact with hers, he regretted the gesture. He could feel the rhythm of her heartbeat funneling into his fingers, and the buzz of magic – weak, but striving – in her aura. If Anwen felt anything more than annoyance by his move, she didn’t show it. Still, he succeeded in snatching her attention.

  “You have the gift, but it’s underdeveloped, and not very strong.”

  She huffed and put the phone screen down on the table. “Fine,” she said in a way that made it perfectly clear it was anything but. “Yes, I’ve dabbled in wicca, but I know only a scant tad of charms and hexes. I only learned how to stop bullets because... Well, let’s just say there’s some people after me, and I wouldn’t put it past them.”

  Her statement put his protective instincts on high alert. “Who? Why?”

  “Not really any of your business. Why should I trust you? How do I know you’re not after me too? “She tipped back her mug, swallowing deeply before continuing. A wicked smile pulled up the corners of her mouth. “Not everyday two-thirds of the Pure Souls cross my path.”

  “So you know what we are?” Dee asked.

  She dipped her head and resumed intimacy with her mobile.

  “Then you should also realize we don’t attack innocents,” he continued. “In fact, it’s sort of our job to protect them.”

  “So I’ve heard. Then again, it’s a different world than it was a few days ago, from what they say. In a nutshell, demons are trying to use me for target practice. So far, I’ve been able to outrun them.” The corners of her mouth pulled up. “In a manner of speaking.”

  Jerry shifted in his chair, but luckily, their shared date was too busy conversing with the cyberverse to notice. Dee’s gaze narrowed while Jerry only shrugged, throwing his hands up defensively. “I got nothing, man. I wasn’t involved with each and every project.”

  “Might not have been your side undertaking it,” Dee postulated. “Knowing what we do about M now, who’s to say what’s been going on for the last few decades?”

  The ex-demon rubbed his chin. “Possible. No one would have been sniffing around or prying into his business while he was the prince.” He jerked his head towards the door. “Got a plane to catch.”

  A clock, lit up in neon, and bearing the logo of a popular brand of ale, seconded Jerry’s statement. Dee sighed as he slid off his stool, using Anwen’s distraction with her mobile to study her visage more closely. He noted the tension in her fingers, the ferocity with which she keyed each character, texting with the gods-knew-who. There was simmering anger beneath the surface in this one, but at whom? He couldn’t determine. Dee didn’t think it was because of their run-in with her; she was plenty pissy the moment they walked into the psychic’s shop. Perhaps three ticks towards a tussle was her natural state. Someone like her wouldn’t last long in a fight with a demon. Too hot-headed to battle smart, and too inexperienced to do more than cast a cramped hamstring curse.

  How lucky that he stumbled into her life! Or maybe it wasn’t luck at all... In his sixty-plus years on the planet, Dionysus Zitka learned a few things. First, you don’t get a buzz unless you lick just the right kind of frog. Second, deep fried Twinkies are proof of the All Mighty. And third, there is no such thing as coincidence. Fate dealt out a stacked deck and cheated more than a Milano mob boss on his wife, giving ample opportunities to game the system if one kept his or her eyes open. Encountering a quartergod that demons were after, while on his way to Olympus, in order to intercept his half-angel keystone on the doorstep of what might turn out to be the apocalypse?

  Royal flush, bitch.

  “Our keystone is a witch named Riona Dade,” the demigod stated.

  Anwen turned up a soured eye. “My concern about that would be...?”

  “She’s hiding out at my sister’s house in Olympus because she’s apparently the, I can’t believe I’m going to say this, keystone in a Grigori plot to crush down the barriers between the realms,” he answered.

  “But the keystone is the...”

  “The axis on which all goodness turns. Yes,” Dee interrupted, “that’s right. But someone figured out a couple decades ago how to spin the axis the other way. If that happens, all this,” he vaguely motioned to the pub, “could come crashing down.”

  “Terrible for Kendrick’s here.” Anwen raised her pint in mock salute. “They have an awesome karaoke night.”

  Dee fixed his gaze as well as his charm on her. “Anwen, I didn’t come here looking for you, but I found you. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. If demons are after you, trust me when I say there’s a damned good reason. It’s only a matter of time before they take you down.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. Dee really wished his eyes failed to notice how it pushed her cleavage together.

  “I always get away,” she declared proudly. “I know how.”

  “They adapt. They learn. Eventually, they figure out a way around whatever defense you might have.”

  Her eyebrow arched. “And what is it you propose, Mr. Zitka?”

  “Yeah, Dee, what do you propose?” Jerry echoed her tone precisely.

  The demigod sighed, saying to his fellow pillar, “She has to come with us.”

&nbs
p; In a flash, the lass forgot the phone existed. She invested every ounce of her energy into the scowl aimed in Dee’s direction.

  Oddly enough, Jerry joined her on the wavelength. “What?”

  “We’re at a disadvantage as it is,” Dee said. “Having a quartergod that can outrun demons on our side? Sounds like one hell of an ally in times like these.”

  The Welsh woman scoffed. “Excuse me, but I have no intentions of going anywhere with you. Thanks to you two blokes, I’ve got to find myself a new situation now. Don’t think I’ll be getting a high recommendation from my last employer either.”

  “Dee?” Jerry risked his life by laying a hand on Dee’s forearm. “We’re in a hurry, it’s Christmas night, and we’ve only got two tickets to Athens. Get real, we can’t take her along.”

  “We can and we will,” he replied. “We can’t leave her here now. You, of all people, know there will be a demons are on our tails, too, and our bread crumbs are going to lead the scum right to her door.”

  The table quivered as Anwen’s tiny fist slammed down. “Damn it! You couldn’t just get your fortunes read and go on about your way now, could you?”

  Jerry continued to argue. “That sucks and all, but Riona is...”

  “Safe.” Dee cut him off, his face red with frustration. “Riona is safe. She’s with Steph in Olympus. You, on the other hand,” he turned back to Anwen, “I’m sorry, but your encounter with us is going to put you on the radar of some pretty nasty hellbeasts you’re not equipped to handle. Come with us. We can teach you a few things on the way, and get you set up with a new life in Athens under the protection of the Mountain. Or go anywhere else you want. My dad’s got connections all over the world, one way or another.”

  “A new li... What are you talking about? I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my...”

  Dee leapt to his feet and covered her mouth with his hand when his “spidey senses” went all tingly. Jerry barely got half a word out to argue with him before he undoubtedly picked up on it too.