Renegade Witch_An Urban Fantasy Reverse Harem Romance

by T. S. Bishop

  “Have you tried asking Noah about it?”

  “No, I haven’t. I’m not sure…if I should.”

  “You…don’t think we can trust Noah?!”

  “It’s not that,” he said quickly, “I’d trust Noah with my life—and I have. But I think it might be likely that he’d want to take this higher up, to his parents or to the Council.”

  “And you think they wouldn’t react well?”

  “I think I don’t know what their reactions would be, and that scares me,” Dominic said, getting up restlessly and beginning to pace back and forth.

  “I guess I didn’t know it was so unusual. Could you understand us while we were talking then?”

  “No, it sounded like gibberish, like hissing and spitting.”

  “So, I was speaking their language? That’s not possible! How would I have learned it without knowing?”

  “I don’t know,” Dominic said, looking worried. I was starting to panic as well.

  “Dom,” I said heavily, “You don’t think I’m possessed or something like that, do you?”

  “You can’t be,” he said confidently, to my complete relief, “Only very high level demons—the kind that haven’t been seen in Chicago in decades—could possess a human, and the very essence of witches, their magic I mean, prevents them from being targets of possession.”

  “That’s a relief, at least. Now all I have to worry about is what the hell happened to screw me up so badly that I can speak demon.”

  “I didn’t mean to get you so worked up about it,” Dominic said, coming to the bed. He sat on the edge, hip just brushing my leg and took my hand in his warm, calloused one.

  “It’ll all be fine,” he said comfortingly, “As long as you keep kicking demon arse, that is.”

  “Har har. I’ll get right on that.”

  “On behalf of the Chicago Sanctum, I thank you.”

  “Your hand is so much bigger than mine.”

  “Hm? Oh yes, I have giant hands, don’t I? My mother used to make fun of them, because they were the same size when I was a kid and it looked bloody ridiculous, a ten year old with hands the size of shovels…”

  His voice died away, and his gaze became distant. I knew he must have been thinking about his parents.

  “What happened?” I asked, hushed. “You said they’re not around anymore.”

  “It’s okay, Soph. No need to be tactful. They’re dead. They were killed, a long time ago. They were tracking down a high level demon—my mom was the witch, obviously, and my father was good with a sword—and they didn’t realize it was an ambush.”

  “How?”

  “It turned out to be the work of five or six high level demons,” he said grimly. I squeezed his hand, trying to give him comfort. I couldn’t imagine what he was remembering, what made him look so lost and tired. “They laid a trap for my parents. They started out by attacking children below the age of ten. The Sanctum takes attacks on children very seriously, and there were reports of the children being possessed and taking the lives of their families before dying, so it was a top priority mission. Maybe, if it was less urgent, my parents would have done more research and they might have gone in prepared. It’s impossible to know. So many demons against one witch and a guy with no powers—they were no match for them. I didn’t get to see their bodies. I was too young to see something so horrible, was what Adele said.”

  “That’s awful,” I whispered.

  “It was hard, at first,” Dominic said, looking down at our hands, “Actually, it’s still awful sometimes. But it’s funny, I was so alone when I met you, and now…”

  “Now?”

  “It feels like I’m home when I’m with you,” he said simply. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

  I bit my lip.

  “No,” I said honestly, “I’ve been alone all my life—my foster families hated me, so I ran away when I was little—and I’ve always been too scared and suspicious of people to really make friends. Coming here, to the Sanctum, and having you and Adrian and Noah…you’re like the family I never had.”

  “Are we?” Dominic asked intently, “Family, I mean?”

  “In spirit, yes. Though you’re not my brothers, and thank god for that.”

  “I see,” he said, sitting back. He looked pleased. Was it because I said we couldn’t be siblings? Maybe he had assumed that I meant that I had feelings for him.

  Well, he was partly right.

  I actually had feelings for all of them, I was pretty sure.

  But that wasn’t allowed, was it?

  Even leaving the boys’ feelings out of it, the logistics alone were baffling me.

  “Can I ask you something?” I said, cheeks burning as I fiddled with my stiff white hospital blanket.

  “You know you can ask me anything,” Dominic said. He looked down and wrapped his fingers around mine encouragingly.

  “Can witches--? I mean, say I had--? You know what, never mind, this was really stupid.”

  “Sophie,” Dominic said, tightening his hold and looking into my eyes with a heated, darkening glance that made me breathless, “Ask me.”

  “I brought juice!” Noah called, limping in with Adrian.

  “Great!” I said brightly, looking at Noah with a large, fake smile on my face, “Exactly what I wanted!”

  I wasn’t sure what I’d been ready to ask Dominic. I was afraid to know.

  I was only sure of one thing: I was in too deep, and if I wasn’t careful I was going to drown.

  Chapter 20

  The next day, I slipped into a room filled with other witches and Bloodsworn. Noah, Adrian and Dominic trailed behind me.

  We were all puffy-eyed and hiding yawns behind our hands, because we’d been summoned ridiculously early.

  “It’s the War Room,” said Noah, bouncing on his feet gleefully, “I’ve never been allowed in here before.”

  “But he snuck in anyway,” Dominic told me in an undertone.

  “But they found me,” said Noah sadly, “And they kicked me out. And they called my mom.”

  “That’s rough, buddy,” Adrian said, patting his shoulder as Dominic snickered.

  “Who are all these people?” I said wonderingly.

  All the chairs were already taken, so we went to stand by the wall at the back of the room. A few witches I recognized from the banquet nodded at me regally, flanked by their intimidating looking Bloodsworn.

  “I didn’t know Bloodsworn could be women too,” I whispered to Noah.

  “It’s kind of a touchy subject,” he muttered back, “Only the ones who can’t be witches end up being Bloodsworn, and some families find it embarrassing.”

  Great, I thought, another finicky bit of witch politics that I would have to remember.

  “All these people are part of the Chicago Sanctum?” I said, as more people streamed in over the next few minutes.

  “I think attendance is down today, actually,” Adrian said, frowning and running his eyes over the crowd restlessly.

  “No sign of your mom?’ Dominic asked sympathetically.

  “Where’s your mom?”

  “She was sent on a hunt yesterday, but she should be back by now,” Adrian explained distractedly.

  “I’m sure she’s on her way back,” I said, touching his arm. He leaned into me almost imperceptibly for comfort.

  “Order, order, let’s begin!” called an elderly witch at the head of the long table, which seemed to be reserved for the most important members of the Sanctum. I could see Nathan Ingram, neatly dressed in a dark suit this time. He had the same, washed-out presence of someone who could disappear into the background and not be noticed. Adele was sitting a few seats over from him, looking perfectly put together in a pinstriped suit.

  Hannah was standing behind her, and I caught her eye and smiled. She winked back.

  “The issue on the table is regarding the increased concentration of attacks by demonic elements within the city,” the elderly witch began. She had the ki
nd of voice that would be perfect in a classroom. You could just fall asleep listening to her drone on. Which I almost did, until Noah poked me in the side.

  “Pay attention,” he said, eyes crinkling at the corners.

  “I haven’t had my coffee yet,” I said, but stood up straighter and tried to look like I was deeply absorbed in what she was saying.

  Increased numbers of demons wreaking havoc and terrorizing people, too many attacks to let anyone stay on the sidelines, even the trainees would have to pitch in and help, we needed to keep the city safe from corruption and evil, etc. etc. Seemed pretty straightforward to me.

  “Pardon me, Estella,” Nathan Ingram said, frowning down at some papers in front of him, “But surely you’re not saying that we should send out fresh recruits on hunts that they might not be qualified to undertake? This new protocol proposes sending any team whose witch is able to channel with her Bloodsworn.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying needs to happen,” Estella said calmly, “We are far too short on manpower to leave able-bodied witches and Bloodsworn to twiddle their thumbs back at the Sanctum while everyone else is risking their lives. It’s time to step up our efforts, because civilians are dying in the city at a rate we haven’t seen in decades.”

  “It seems to me that sending a group of untrained soldiers—who are mostly in their teens, I’d like to point out—is somewhat irresponsible,” Ingram returned, equally calm.

  I was fascinated. It was like watching one of those period dramas where intelligent, well-dressed people sniped at each other viciously in completely calm, reasonable voices and called each other ‘my good fellow’ and ‘the honorable lady’. I got the impression that Estella and Ingram strongly disliked each other, but they would both die rather than admit this in public.

  “It seems to me that we have a choice before us, to either let the people of Chicago die at the hands of demons or dare to fight them and reclaim out city,” Estella said.

  People in the room were muttering, nodding their heads. I could see why Ingram’s side of the argument was unappealing. I itched to go out and fight demons and save people. Waiting and watching and being careful weren’t things that came naturally to me, a fighter, and I suspected a lot of witches in the Sanctum were the same way.

  “However,” Ingram said, letting a little steel enter his voice, “There may be some who do not agree with you.”

  “I say we have a show of hands,” a woman said unexpectedly from the door. Nearly everyone turned to look at her. I heard Adrian exhale and turned to see him press his hand to his eyes.

  I looked more closely at the woman. She was tall and elegant looking, wearing a hunting uniform that still had streaks of blood and dirt on it. So she’d come directly from the hunt, to attend the meeting. Her face was striking, with high cheekbones, dark hair and blue eyes. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who she was.

  “Hey,” I whispered to Adrian, “I’m glad she’s okay.”

  He reached for me and squeezed my hand clumsily. “So am I,” he whispered back, but when she scanned the room searchingly and met his eyes, he just gave her a soldierly nod. I rolled my eyes. Boys.

  “Hear, hear,” some people said, stomping their feet on the ground in agreement.

  Ingram sighed and pressed the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He had the attitude of someone who was thinking ‘I’m surrounded by morons’.

  “Very well,” Estella said, looking triumphant, like she knew she’d already won, “All those in favor of sending out trainees on non-lethal missions?”

  I raised my hand. As did most people in the room, it looked like. A few people—mostly older witches—looked unhappy and shook their heads, but the result was clear.

  “Motion passed,” Adele said, “Trainees will be assigned missions later today and will be allowed access to the armory. Dismissed.”

  We dispersed, and Adrian immediately went over to his mother, who was leaning against the wall and looking exhausted. But she straightened up and hugged him with a warm smile.

  “Adele told me you completed your qualifier,” she said, looking at him with clear pride.

  “Yes ma’am,” he said, looking stiff but pleased, “We were able to capture the demon alive. I’d like you to meet my team.”

  I had to nudge Dominic and Noah forward, because they looked terrified. I’d heard that Adrian’s mother was some sort of legend in the Sanctum, as well as a formidable witch, so I sort of understood their reluctance to meet the magical equivalent of LeBron James.

  “It’s an honor to meet you,” Noah said breathlessly, shaking her hand for way too long. She gently detached her hand from his and turned to Dominic, who seemed less overwhelmed but got quiet like he was afraid of unleashing a pile of word salad.

  “And you must be Sophie,” she said, turning to me, “I’m Vivian. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Hi Sophie, I’m Sophie—uh,” I stammered. Adrian laughed quietly and put his arm around me.

  “Mom, quit scaring her,” he said, deep voice rumbling against me.

  “Sorry,” I said, sure that I was flushing scarlet with embarrassment. Luckily, she seemed to find my nervousness amusing and not a sign of terminal stupidity, because she wrapped me in a hug.

  “Thank you for coming back to us,” she whispered to me, “And for helping Adrian become who he was supposed to be.”

  “You’re welcome,” I answered automatically, “But I didn’t—I mean, I didn’t really do anything.”

  “Oh, I think you’d be surprised,” she said, smiling mysteriously.

  We let Adrian and his mother fall behind as we walked to the commissary, but he caught up with us after a few minutes.

  “Don’t you want to eat with your mom?” I asked, “We don’t mind, you haven’t seen her in weeks.”

  “No, that’s okay,” Adrian said, looking away from me for some reason. A light flush was creeping up his cheeks. “She said I should be with you—you guys.”

  Now I was curious. What on earth had Adrian’s mom said to him? I looked over at her, and she was giving our little group a curious look, of mingled satisfaction and amusement.

  “Too bad it’s a Wednesday,” Noah said, apparently unaware of the strange undercurrents running through the conversation, “Wednesday’s mystery meat day.”

  “I’ve always wondered why the food there is so bad,” said Dominic reflectively, “We’re not hurting for money, so why are we stuck eating mystery meat and mushy pasta?”

  “I like to think it’s to keep us on our toes,” I said, “Think about it, if the food was actually good, we’d stuff ourselves right? But this way, we eat just enough to stay alive. It keeps us lean and mean.”

  “Actually, it’s because we’ve never been able to keep a chef in the Sanctum for more than a few weeks at a time,” said Noah, “But your theory is good too,” he added quickly.

  Chapter 21

  After a lunch of soggy mystery meat (yuck), we left to check out our assignments.

  There was already a crowd around the board that held the assignments.

  I peered through the group of people and looked back at Noah, confused.

  “The paper’s empty.”

  “It’s magicked to activate with a touch,” said Noah, “You’re not going to be able to see your assignment until you press your hand to the paper.”

  “That’s extremely cool,” I said, impressed, “Magic is so worth the demons and constant danger and kidnappings.”

  “Sorry, coming through,” Dominic said, pushing his way through the crowd firmly but politely. “Now,” he said to me, “Put your palm on the paper.”

  I raised my hand and rested it, palm-down on the notice pinned to the board. It glowed blue momentarily, and spat out a bit of paper with words that looked like they’d come from an old-fashioned typewriter.

  Adrian reached out and caught the paper before it could fall to the floor. Neither he nor the other two boys seemed surprised that paper woul
d just magically appear out of thin air. Then again, we did live in a church full of witches, so maybe disbelief wasn’t really the best emotion to be holding on to.

  “What does it say?” asked Noah.

  “Someone might have made a deal with a Crossroads Demon,” said Adrian, reading the paper, “And it might be asking for lives in exchange for favors.”

  “Ugh, the idiot,” said Dominic with detached disgust, “Like it’s going to let you go once it’s had its fill of tasty murders.”

  “What do people usually ask Crossroads demons for?” I asked, fascinated.

  “Power, wealth, true love sometimes,” said Noah casually.

  “And do they get it?”

  “The thing you have to understand about demons,” said Dominic, “is that they keep their promises. They can’t lie about intent or anything else. The other thing about demons is that they decide how they want to keep the promise.”

  “I once read about this man,” said Noah somberly, “who asked a demon to bring his dead wife back to life.”

  “And?”

  “And…she’d died when she was run over by a bus. The demon brought her to life at the exact moment after she got hit by the bus.”

  “What?”

  “She’d broken every bone in her body, she was bleeding internally and her face was…it was smashed like a watermelon.”

  I recoiled.

  “I heard about that one,” Adrian said darkly, “She was screaming, begging the guy to kill her, she was in so much pain. But the demon was keeping her alive because that was the bargain it made.”

  “What happened to her? And to him?”

  “He shot himself,” said Noah bleakly, “And the demon decided to go on a joy ride through the city in his corpse.”

  “That’s incredibly messed up.”

  “And that’s why we have to stop this demon,” said Dominic briskly. He was the only one who hadn’t visibly reacted to the story Noah had told. Adrian and I looked ill, and Noah looked grey in the face. I thought about what Dominic had said to me, about how his parents had died, and wondered how you stopped flinching away from something like that.