DEATH SUITS HER_A Supernatural Reverse Harem Romance Adventure

by Leighton Lawless

  His arms thrust out and push with all their might. I feel his strength burgeoning up within. He will be a powerful Nephilim. I know that now.

  He begins to calm when his eyes open, and he sees my face. He stops pushing me away.

  My hand is still on his forehead. I was trying to calm him and make the nightmare go away, but it wasn’t just a nightmare.

  It was a message from the other side. They’re baiting me, and the vision was pulling me in.

  As much as I long to, I can’t stay any longer. The risk is too great.

  Moloch has a connection with me, which means we must have met in battle during the First Holy War. He must have attempted a strike against me and gained or learned something from that first encounter.

  I should have seen it, but I still don’t know what it is. He could use whatever it is to find my son and harm him.

  Coming here was a grave mistake. As much as I don’t want to accept it, maybe Jessup is right, and I should have left my son to live his life without me.

  “Everything’s fine now. It was just a nightmare,” I lie so Noah doesn’t become more frightened than he already is.

  No child should have to suffer visions from demonic entities, especially not my child.

  Noah finally begins to calm down and looks around the room. All is quiet. No singing, no demonic figures, no Moloch.

  He then gazes at the bed-covers and flinches.

  I turn my eyes to see what’s startled him.

  The bed-covers are splotched with a trickle of blood that leads to the ground at the foot of the bed.

  7

  The Secret War

  It’s too late to undo the damage. Moloch was able to use the vision to influence Noah.

  All soul connections go both ways, whether we like it or not, which means the demon truly has found a way to attack us on this side. My worst fears are coming true.

  My eyes are drawn to the blinking red light from a digital clock next to the glass angel statue.

  I look back to the trickle of blood and follow it to the foot of the bed. I push off the bed, squint, and spot an object on the floor.

  I lean in to get a closer look, but when I reach it, I find that it was only in my head, perhaps only a remnant of the vision.

  I turn back to Noah and find that he’s sitting on the edge of his bed and glaring at me.

  “Noah,” I say. “What’s the matter?”

  He slides off the bed and tiptoes over to the corner. He hides in a nook between his dresser and drawing desk.

  His body begins to rock back and forth, with his hands under his knees and his back thumping against the wall. He mutters something indistinguishable.

  My heart breaks. This is my fault.

  I should have let him be. I should have stayed away, but I love him so much.

  I needed to see him.

  “It was just a nightmare,” I try to convince him once more.

  Noah doesn’t respond, so I reach out a hand.

  He flinches and recoils.

  “It’s just me,” I say. “It’s Samya.”

  Noah looks up, eyes misty and red-rimmed.

  “You’re a liar,” he snaps.

  “What?”

  “You’re not who you said you are,” Noah says.

  I force a smile.

  “I’m…” My voice drifts.

  I can’t bring myself to tell the whole truth.

  “I’m Samya. I love you more than you know,” I say instead.

  Noah blinks away tears and shakes his head.

  “He told me all about you,” Noah says. “He told me about the things you do and the things you’ve done.”

  “Who told you?” I ask, even though I know the answer. I need to hear him say it. I need confirmation. “What did he say?”

  “The man outside,” Noah answers. “The tall one. He opened my eyes and revealed you in battle during a war, killing countless others. You lied to me. I see that now.”

  “I didn’t want to,” I say. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want you to know that part of me.”

  “Then, he let me go,” Noah continues, “and told me to tell you he’s coming and to give you this—”

  Noah raises his hands and drops a piece of bloody wing from his palm into mine.

  My eyes widen as the digital clock clicks off. Deathly silence spreads through the rest of the house. Electrical humming from the air conditioner falls silent. Even the nightlight goes dark.

  I rise out of my crouch in slow motion and peer through the window.

  The street-lamps and every light in every house in the neighborhood have gone black.

  “Get up,” I beg Noah.

  Out in the yard, dark silhouettes coalesce in a semi-circle just like in the vision. They’re about to perform a ritual, a killing ritual.

  Moloch and his horde move with preternatural speed. Long limbs chop the air, and the sound of back-of-the-throat laughter hits my ears as they rush the house in a burst of red energy.

  From the dropping of a blueish shield over the home, it’s clear that the protective spell I’d cast around the house has been destroyed.

  Moloch must have used his connection with me to enter Noah’s mind and then used that to gain entry past the shield.

  He’s a trickster. No wonder he’s gained favor with the Prince of Darkness.

  The horde flings through the windows. The demons are inside.

  They charge through the house like berserkers, tearing it asunder, making their way up to the bedroom.

  Jenkins, eyes bulging, rushes into Noah’s bedroom in a panic and freaking out. He looks back and forth between us.

  “What have you done?” he asks.

  “I swear I didn’t do anything,” I answer. “They must have tricked my team somehow. There’s no way they should know that I’m here.”

  Jenkins shakes his head and lifts Noah off the ground.

  “You said we were safe,” Jenkins says. “You lied.”

  Being called a liar by the two people I care about most is far worse than anything I’ve ever felt before. My heart is breaking.

  The devastation that overwhelmed me when my wings were ripped from my shoulder blades by an unseen force was the only other time this level of torment has hit me.

  I want to unleash my full fury and tear Moloch apart for causing my loved ones to see me this way.

  I can feel my eyes beginning to burn. Soon they’ll blaze dark-red, and my true form will manifest.

  I fight against the power burning inside me. I can’t let Noah see me that way.

  The bedroom door rocks as demons crash against it from the hallway.

  Noah shrieks.

  I rush over and block the door.

  I pull a pistol from the inside of my right boot and toss it to Jenkins.

  “Take him and run!” I shout.

  There isn’t a chance or enough time for them to escape, though.

  The bedroom windows implode in a deafening fusillade of glass shards.

  I leave the door behind and swoop as fast I can to shield Noah and Jenkins with my body. They can’t take even close to the amount of damage I can.

  The demons burst through the bedroom door. Their ravenous eyes burn with darkness, hollow and menacing, and their unhinged mouths are filled with sharpened, black teeth.

  Jenkins fires the pistol, which spits fiery holy slugs that punch through the demons.

  At the same time, demons clamor up the side of the house and through the window.

  Jenkins empties the rest of the holy slugs, but more demons are coming for us.

  I have to get my loved ones out of here. I need to get them somewhere safe.

  This is not a time for holding back. I have to risk the consequences of what Noah will think of me. It’s time.

  I go into a full rage. I drop low and throw a flurry of strikes at the remaining demons just outside the window, ripping them to shreds like the ferocious war machine that I am, clearing a path for Jenkins to car
ry Noah and escape.

  More of the misshapen creatures lunge at me.

  One of them squares up on me, deep-eyed with rage.

  It heaves itself at me and I duck under its punch.

  Measuring my weight, I bring a fist up and punch the beast as hard as I can. My fist jackhammers its coarse and leathery flesh, stealing the wind from it.

  The demon falls back, clutching its midsection.

  I turn and ram an elbow in its face, knocking the thing back into the shadows.

  Then I drop my shoulder and upend another monster, bringing the heel of my boot down, dashing the demon’s head to pieces.

  Hands grab me and I slip down into my zone, the house roiled in fits of ultra-violence as I slash and chop and shatter faces and break limbs. I do these things to protect Noah and Jenkins, but before they’re able to sneak to safety, darkness descends over everything.

  Moloch has arrived.

  Moloch reaches for Noah.

  Jenkins slams the pistol into the monstrosity’s arm, doing the best he can to defend our son.

  Moloch grabs and hurls Jenkins against a wall, then snatches up Noah in his arms.

  I reach for Moloch, but a coterie of demons pounce on me and pin me down against the ground.

  Moloch grins with pleasure as his minions are about to finish me off.

  To the demons’ surprise, however, I’ve kept a secret weapon hidden in a place they’d never expect.

  I reach under Noah’s bed and pull out a long-blade taped to the bed-frame. I whip it out, plunging it into the eyes and necks of the demons who block my path to Moloch and Noah.

  The demons thrash on the floor in death throes.

  I turn to face Moloch, but he’s gone.

  The rest of his demons have vanished as well, which means Noah is too.

  8

  The Loss of a Loved One

  I cross the room to where Jenkins lies crumpled on the floor, bruised and bloody but still alive. I wipe a mask of hair from his face, help him off the ground, and raise his chin to look into his shock-dilated pupils.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “Wha—what in God’s name is going on, Samya? What do they want with us?” he asks.

  “Stay still. You’re injured,” I warn. “We have to get you to—”

  His eyes inflate. His face burns red with anger.

  He’s realized Noah isn’t in the bedroom anymore.

  “Noah!” he shouts as he begins to fully realize that our son has been taken.

  He rises and shambles past me, through the busted bedroom door, through the hallway, and down the stairs.

  His screams pierce my ears. Jenkins continues screaming out for our son as he wades through the detritus of the attack.

  I shadow him while keeping an eye out for demonic stragglers.

  Jenkins searches through every upended room, blood staining his clothes as he staggers through the crypt-quiet house.

  “Jenkins,” I cry out.

  He wheels around and faces me.

  “Where is he? Where’s Noah?” he asks, begging me for an answer.

  “Gone,” I answer. “They took him.”

  “What are you talking about?!?” he cries.

  “They took him,” I say.

  A pulse of shock ripples across Jenkins’s body as he clutches himself and shrieks at me.

  “Get out of my way!” he shouts. “This isn’t happening.”

  Jenkins attempts to stride past, but I hoist him up to stop him from going out where it’s not safe.

  Off the ground and in my grasp, he swings at me and pounds his fists into my back.

  “LET ME GO! WE HAVE TO FIND HIM!”

  “He’s gone, Jenkins.”

  Jenkins goes limp, overcome by emotion as I lower him.

  He leans against a wall, making small sounds of defeat. He slumps to the floor, his head between his knees.

  I kneel next to him, searching for words as he reaches out a desperate hand and glares into my eyes.

  I take both his hands in mine.

  “What were those things?” he asks.

  “Easy now,” I reply. “You’re not ready for this.”

  “They took our son. I need to know what they are. Tell me!” he shouts.

  “You won’t believe—”

  “You said you were part of a covert black ops team,” Jenkins barks. “Those were not violent extremists or enemy soldiers. You need to tell me now!”

  “I am part of a covert team,” I reply. “Just not the kind you think.”

  “What were they?” he demands.

  “They—they were demons,” I answer.

  Jenkins pales, shakes his head.

  “You—you’re insane…” His voice trails off.

  He continues shaking his head. His whole body begins to tremble.

  “Listen to me,” I begin, but he interrupts.

  “You’re crazy! This is crazy and fucked up.”

  “GODDAMMIT, LISTEN TO ME, JENKINS!” I shout as I reach over, but he recoils. “There’s something you don’t know. Something I never told you about.”

  Jenkins looks like he’s been hit by a semi-truck and then run over a second time. His eyes dart back and forth as he tries to make sense of what’s happened.

  I examine a deep gash on his side and rip off a large chunk of my shirt. Once the wound is wrapped, I clutch his hands tight.

  “I was a soldier. That wasn’t a lie,” I say. “I am a soldier, but not the kind you know about. I fought in the very first war there ever was.”

  I take a moment to catch my breath.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but my team that you met, Brody, Dominic, Jessup, Hines…we fight against demons,” I confess. “I once fought the Bright Morning Star himself.”

  Jenkins sits in stunned silence as I continue.

  “But after the war reached an armistice, there were some like the archangel Michael who wanted to continue the fight and invade Hell. Michael put out a call for us to go with him even though he knew it wasn’t allowed,” I explain. “There was a truce in place, but we followed Michael to the Gates of Hell. The battle raged, but I couldn’t go through with it. I tried. I entered the fray, but we were losing. Wanting to face your fears and actually facing them are two very different things. We were losing the battle. I couldn’t go all the way, and neither could anyone other than Michael. He was captured. I didn’t know the others then, but Jessup, Brody, and Dominic were there. They escaped, and we became a team afterward to prevent a catastrophe like what happened tonight. I met Hines later. He’s like Noah. He’s half-angel. We’ve failed. The enemy is winning again.”

  I take a deep breath and wait for his response.

  “This is all true, isn’t it?” Jenkins asks.

  I nod.

  “God was displeased, and he ripped out our wings as punishment and cast us down onto the Earth to live as Watchers.”

  Jenkins harnesses the pain. His shirt is completely stained red and black, soaked in his blood and that of demons. He grabs me by my shirt.

  “I don’t care about all that,” he spits. “All I want to know is what they’ve done with our son, you lunatic.”

  I suck in a breath, take a moment to gather my thoughts. Then I whisper, “They’ve taken him to Hell.

  Jenkins’s eyes roll back as he slips into unconsciousness.

  “Fuck,” I say. “There isn’t time for this.”

  After rushing Jenkins to the hospital, I decide to stay and make sure he’s okay.

  Nurses and doctors rush in and out, patching him up and hooking wires and monitors to him.

  Once they’ve finished their work, and he’s stabilized, I run a hand through his hair.

  He’s covered in a cocoon of IV drips and heart monitor wires.

  I hover over him, holding his left hand.

  He rasps, “I want you to remember this… this moment. How I never asked you about any of it. Not one single question. And I let you come and go as you pleased. Yet,
the whole time we were in danger because of you. All of the lies—you’ll have to live with that if we don’t get our son back. I want you to remember that.”

  I lean in close.

  “All of the lies were meant to protect you,” I say, “but I am sorry.”

  “That’s not even close to good enough,” he replies. “The only thing you can do to make it right is to go and get our son back, Samya. Nothing else matters.”

  He pulls me closer. He tries to speak again but can’t muster the strength.

  I nod and pull his hands off of me.

  “I won’t stop until I find him,” I say. “I promise. I swear. No matter how long it takes or what I have to do, I’ll find Noah.”

  Jenkins manages a nod as I turn, brush past an incoming nurse, and disappear down a dimly lit hospital hallway.

  Defense didn’t work. I have to take the fight to the enemy.

  They’re going to regret fucking with my family.

  9

  I Will Not Be Defeated, I Will Not Back Down

  It’s after midnight before I make it back to the bungalow that serves as our team headquarters.

  I’m pretty much on autopilot as I pull into the backyard and descend in the Suburban into the underground.

  Once inside, I’m blasted with eardrum-splitting blasts from bass speakers. The opening riff from AC/DC’s ‘Highway to Hell’ blares from a tape in an old-school boombox over a basement space that’s been fully retrofitted into the ultimate man cave.

  Sports memorabilia from the golden age of basketball, football, and baseball line the right wall. Michael Jordan sticks his tongue out in his trademark dunking style on a poster next to Larry Bird pulling up for a jumper.

  Beneath that is a Bo Jackson poster with him climbing a wall to rob a home run next to an image of him plowing through defenders with a football clutched tightly beneath his armpit.

  A New Orleans Saints football logo is carved into the concrete.

  On the left wall, Constantine, End of Days, and The Prophecy stand out among a litany of nineties-era horror and supernatural movie posters.