Hell is a Harem [Book 1]

by Kim Faulks

  “I can tell you what I know,” Thander straightened. “And then, unfortunately, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re disrupting the guests, and we can’t have that.” The ghoul motioned toward the side of the reception desk. “I think it might be a little more comfortable, and out of prying ears, if we go in here.”

  Titus stiffened and looked around. But if Thander wanted to hurt us, he would’ve by now. I reached out, resting my hand on Titus’ arm. “It’s okay. Really, we’re good now.”

  He was rattled, shell-shocked and wary. He was still looking for the danger. My stomach sank as I pressed, lowering his gun. I didn’t want to like the guy, didn’t want to feel a damn connection. It was dangerous, too fucking dangerous—for him. An ache flared, heart-twisted and cruel, as I saw him for the first time.

  He was no longer the Inspector…no longer the fucking cop and the bane of my existence. He’d become human, become real.

  Become a friend…no, that wasn’t right. Not a fucking friend. Something different, something strange. He lowered his hand, keeping his Glock at his side, and waited for me to follow Thander.

  I could get used to this, having someone watching my back. I’d forgotten how good it felt to have someone in my corner, how good it felt to have someone waiting for me.

  Thander disappeared through an open doorway. I followed, finding a spacious office. A brown leather couch sat on one side, a trolley filled with half-filled decanters on the other.

  But it was the desk toward the end of the office Thander headed for. He seemed to swallow the room, curling his shoulders to make himself less than he was, before he lowered himself to an overstuffed chair.

  He motioned to two chairs on the other side. “You’re after the wolf, I’m guessing. It’s a damn shame what happened to the young girl. Do you know if the family is prepared?”

  The question was a shock. He sounded like he genuinely cared.

  “I’m not aware of the finer details. I’m the clean-up crew,” I murmured, holding the ghoul’s gaze.

  He gave a slow nod and turned to Titus. But there were no questions thrown his way. It was as though he wanted to gauge the Inspector for himself.

  “Word on the street is, it’s a summoning. Made from the blood of an immortal.”

  Made from blood? The words sank deep. Pure blood was one thing, but the small, transparent square looked nothing like a damn vial. For the drug to be that powerful, it must’ve come from something far beyond anything I knew. “What…what is it?”

  “No one knows, or, if they do, they’re not saying.”

  Redemption. His name lingered on the tip of my tongue. I didn’t dare look at Titus, didn’t dare reveal my thoughts. I still hadn’t told him the truth about where I found the drug in the first place, and the omission was eating away at me.

  “And this guy,” the Inspector shoved the sketch toward the ghoul. “A demon. Do you recognize him?”

  Thander stared at the sketch and then raised his gaze. “Why?”

  “He’s involved in another case…a human case.”

  There was a second where the Ghoul’s dark eyes shone like stone. I wanted to reach out, to protect Titus. He didn’t understand.

  “You understand The Seven Levels is neutral territory,” Thander growled. “Even if I did recognize your demon, I couldn’t just hand him over to you. What kind of establishment would I have if I gave every name a police officer asked of me?”

  “You’d have a damn lawful one,” Titus answered, and leaned forward.

  Thander turned his head, looking at me. Humans just didn’t get it. We had had no safe place when supes started revealing themselves. We had nowhere to go, no- where to hide, while we waited for the hate to stop. It took a long time, felt like forever, when we realized there was going to be no change.

  So we created places ourselves. Places we could hide. Places we could defend, and this was one of those places. I was thankful I'd had Alma.

  But many didn’t. Many were persecuted. Many were killed.

  I rose from my seat and touched Titus on the shoulder. He wasn’t getting a name from the ghoul, not even if he marched him in handcuffs down to the station, and we both knew that wasn’t going to happen—seeing as the Inspector was technically on leave.

  “Let’s go, Titus,” I murmured. “We’ll find him on our own.”

  Still the human lingered that little bit longer, defiant sonofabitch when he wanted to be—and then he shoved up from the seat.

  Thander rose behind us as Titus stepped first, moving toward the door. Heavy footsteps echoed behind me, closing in as I reached the doorway. Titus was already through, heading across the foyer, as a hard grip wound around my arm, stilling me cold.

  “You might want to check out Shift on Cutting Corner. You might find something of interest there, something your human might be looking for. Careful out there, Lorn. This darkness is coming, I sense it out there, just as I sense it in you… You know what they say,” the ghoul whispered in my ear, “like calls to like.”

  His claws skimmed my arm and trailed across skin. I turned my head, staring into those pools of nothing and whispered, “I don’t want to hurt the wolf, Thander. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  There was a hint of a smile on the ghoul’s lips. “We never start out wanting destruction, Lorn. Be careful out there, and if you need some place to hide…”

  I turned my head, finding his men still standing in the foyer, all eyes turned to me. Some of the deadliest mercenaries on earth, and, still, in this moment they felt…weak. “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  His claws slipped free, leaving me to stride for the Inspector. Steps slowing, I could feel he was already itching to draw his gun as Titus turned, eyeing the ghoul in the doorway, and growled, “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I focused on the doors, hoping to God he could take a hint.

  Footsteps echoed, until the door swung outward. The doorman bowed slightly, “Thank you for visiting. Whenever you require safety, The Seven Levels will be waiting.”

  It was the usual line, and I’d heard it many times before. But, somehow, now it felt creepy. Titus descended the stairs and made for the only car in the parking lot.

  And I had these last steps to make a decision; tell Titus about Shift, or follow the trail my damn self. We were a team, he had my back, remember?

  And yet I couldn’t get past that savage look on his face in the alley when he shoved the sketch into the gremlin’s face. With the memory came the feeling that I was somehow responsible for his rage, that the longer he spent with me, the more he was changing, leaving the old Titus behind to something cruel, something brutal…something just like me.

  Chapter Eight

  “What did he say to you back there?”

  I tried to steel myself for the answer, tried to find the right words. “He said the shifter didn’t mean it, said he was holed up in some downtown house with one of the other Ruba wolves.”

  He yanked his seatbelt down. “So the fur ball was lying, what a damn surprise.”

  My belly tightened, squashing spaghetti into pulp. I hated lying to him, especially when he'd had my back in there. But that nagging feel wouldn’t go away.

  An icy touch skimmed along my spine. I lifted my head to the darkened windows and caught movement. The engine started with a growl, but we didn’t move as Titus caught the stare. “You okay? You see something?”

  I shook my head. “No, nothing.”

  “You’re sure freaking me out, you know. Maybe there’s someone I could take you to see, a healer or something?”

  I reached across and patted his arm, placating him, really. No healer could help me, not with this. I was changing, morphing, seeing things I’d never seen before; feeling things I’d never felt before. And, as much as I was terrified—I wanted more. “No…no healer. I think I just want to go home.” I glanced at the green digital clock in the dashboard, it was well after six. “You’ve got a dinner to go to anyway, remember?”
/>
  He shoved the car into gear and spun the wheel. “No thanks to you.”

  A tiny chuckle slipped free. It wasn’t funny then, born out of necessity more than anything. But it was funny now. “Sorry about that.”

  He cut me a glare. “No, you’re not. Still it was probably a good move. Time to get out of that house, fucking mausoleum. You’d think I’d be good at this shit, right?”

  Good at what? Love, pain…destruction? “No one is ever good at relationships, Titus, look at me, a prime example.”

  I waited for the snark, the banter, the burn of his words, but there was nothing but a glance my way. I stared at the dashboard as he stared a little too long.

  An awkward silence settled deep. He was thinking…thinking about me, and that was never any good.

  Not for him, and not for me.

  He’s just not that into you…a book, written for me—it was the story of my fucking life.

  “So, tomorrow,” he finally broke the silence. “If you’re prepared to do this all again.”

  “I still got a case to solve, so I guess, yeah.”

  “And this time, I promise to do a little better on the coffee and food front.”

  I gave a shrug as we speared through the city and headed toward the seedy Black Candle district. Towering skyscrapers sparkled with the dimming sun, but, even though the yellow rays caressed my arm, I couldn’t feel the warmth. There was a coldness now that came with that power, a coldness that cut right through my soul.

  “So, an early night for you? I don’t even know what your kind gets up to.”

  “My kind as in hunter, witch…supe?”

  “Women…really” he muttered with a shake of his head. “But don’t get me wrong, I kinda like the idea of you dressed in a black robe, chanting to the moon.”

  “Don’t be silly,” I murmured, my voice a little too husky. “I don’t wear a robe.”

  Hands tightened, strangling the wheel. Oh yeah…I smothered a smile. Mr. Perfect Fucking Gentleman was cracking under the pressure.

  “Sixty-nine,” I muttered and stared at his face.

  Throat worked, swallowing hard, before he turned his head, one brow rising to the occasion, leaving me to wonder about something else. “Excuse me?” he murmured.

  I nodded toward the busy city streets. “Maddison Street, that’s where I live. Apartment above Chang's Chinese.”

  And, for a second, I felt the cocky me rise once more. This day was hell. No fucking wolf, no fucking money, and a whole lotta angst. I craned my head, rubbing sore muscles, and, oh, yeah, a foul fucking aftertaste of the damn drug.

  And still there was one thread I had tied off. One fucking thread that threatened to unravel it all.

  Redemption.

  The guy haunted me. He was breathing, for one. The first and only guy to leave me and not the other way around. Titus handled the car with ease, leaving the busy city center behind and headed for the supernatural line.

  Sign posts marred the way. Black and white, lined with flashing white lights that illuminated after dark.

  Supernatural line 5 miles...

  Supernatural line 4 miles...

  Supernatural line 3 miles…

  No matter how many years we'd lived here, no matter how many times we proved ourselves, there was always the persecution—always the difference. We just couldn’t get away from it.

  The rest of the drive was quiet. I gave him nothing really, no help finding his demon, no giving him…I tried to think—what the fuck was I supposed to give him?

  Supernatural line…

  The last one slipped past in a blur and we were home…Titus slowed the car as we rounded Harker Hollow. Red, blue, and white sigils were sprayed on the street corners, and these were the only kind of tags you didn’t want to remove.

  A group of young women stood outside a brownstone, two smoking a cigarette in one hand and holding a smoldering stick of incense in the other. Elder witches watched from above, one stood, staring into the bruising sky.

  She lowered her gaze as we cruised past and met my gaze through the window of the car, and my chest ached with need.

  She reminded me of Alma, pure and strong, deep-seated in her power and purpose. She was every kind of gentle gray, shot through with electric teal, from her hair, to her eyes, to the clothes she wore.

  And just like that, she was gone, slipping far behind me.

  “You going to be okay on your own, tonight? I mean, you’re welcome to come for dinner with me and the Stacks.”

  God, he sounded awkward. “You mean like a date, Inspector?”

  There was stunned silence. But I was tired, and ready for this torture to be over. “Just kidding, Titus, don’t sweat it. I’ll be fine. A good sleep is all I need. Tomorrow I’ll be back to my usual pain in the ass self, just you wait and see.”

  “Can’t wait,” he forced a grumble and turned into Maddison Street.

  I spied Chang’s in the distance. “So tomorrow, about eight?”

  He slowed the car, pulled over, and then leaned forward, staring up at the propped open window above the restaurant. “Eight it is. You always leave your place open like that?”

  I turned, found the shimmied open window, and laughed. Poor bugger really didn’t know me at all. “Don’t sweat it, Inspector. No one’s dumb enough to break into my place. If you don’t know by now, I’m the one they fear around here. A hunter with a reputation of leaving barely more than a whisper of existence behind.”

  I shouldered the door open and shoved it closed. The empty car space made me wince. I’d need to catch a bus to The Circle to get my damn car. Later. I lifted my hand to Mrs. Chang and made for the front door.

  I felt tired, wrung dry, as I stepped inside. The building was quiet. I glanced along the darkened hallway to the lower floor, listening to a faint TV, before I headed for the stairs.

  Doors opened, muffled voices filtered out. I turned my head, catching the sneaky operation. Vibrant blue lingered inside the potion bottle, sparks ignited, bursting against the side of the glass as the young kid slipped it into his pocket and pulled his hoodie low.

  A key clattered in the lock as he pulled the door closed behind him. Something growled from inside the apartment. A heavy thud followed. Whatever he closed inside wanted out…or whatever was in that bottle.

  He lifted his head as he turned, catching my stare.

  “Lorn,” came the soft male voice.

  “Ace,” I answered and dropped my gaze to the hand inside his pocket. “Selling spells again, are we?”

  With a shrug, he answered. “Gotta level-up somehow.”

  He was a good kid, quiet, dealing on the side for experiments that cost a small fortune. I liked him. “Stay safe out there.”

  Pimply skin illuminated as he lifted his head and found my gaze. “Always. No one would be stupid enough, would they?”

  No, they wouldn’t. I gave a smile and then trudged up the stairs. listening to the front door open and close behind me before I hit my door. We had our own kind of protection this side of the border—the only kind humans were scared of.

  No one would hurt Ace, across the division he was nothing more than a pimply geek. But over here, he was up and coming, a true artist of alchemy. I shoved my key into the lock and turned.

  Titus was worried. He didn’t realize no one would be stupid enough to break into this building. The walls were drenched with sigils. Spells filled the hallway. A faint growl echoed from downstairs—some even found form, for a while at least.

  I grinned, shook my head, and stepped inside. Power was a true weapon…and this place was as safe as…the air shifted as I closed the door behind me.

  A bitter cold punctured the thought like a blade.

  Something wasn’t right…I glanced at the living room and stepped into the tiny kitchen. Goosebumps raced across my skin as I looked toward my bedroom.

  Power lingered like a scent, only this was no sweet perfume…this was a male, and hungry.

  Fe
ar lifted its head as I moved, clenching my gut. Fingers curled, summoning energy inside as I moved across the open doorway, I glanced into the bedroom, and then left into the bathroom, before I moved inside. The thick shower curtain was pulled back, revealing nothing more than a row of half-empty bottles of shampoo and conditioner.

  But the feeling grew as I slipped into the bedroom. The stain on the air was powerful, and dark, and sexually charged…growing stronger the closer to my bed.

  The covers were thrown aside from this morning, pillow still indented from my head. But there was another energy here, another who'd rifled through my things, another who'd left a mark…

  A mark he knew would last.

  Redemption.

  The sonofabitch filled my head. His desperation and anger. The way he curled his body, towering over Veronica, and the lies…so many fucking lies.

  He was born filled with them.

  It was the only thing that made sense. Had he seen me next to his car? Had he seen me pick up the drug?

  A cover-up. It was the only thing that made sense. He’d come here trying to find what? A list of places I’d search…maybe information pointing to him. My top lip curled, as if I’d be that fucking stupid.

  He had to be involved with this entire thing; the drugs, the attacks…and this dark foreboding.

  What was the one major threat to a hunter? I thought about the money, and the jobs…and with growing rage, I thought about Alistair Horton and his scheming lies. There was only one true threat when you hunted supernatural creatures for a living…another fucking hunter.

  I headed for the kitchen, and the half a bottle of vodka I had left. They took Alma from me, forced her to leave heartbroken and penniless, and now they wanted what?

  To set me up….it was the only thing that made sense. I tried to think about the job…tried to think about Titus. The guy was supposed to be on leave, and here we were trampling halfway across the city to beat up a damn gremlin.

  I yanked open the cupboard and grabbed a tumbler before turning to the freezer. Two frozen meals and one half-filled bottle of Vodka waited for me. I gripped the glass, feeling the cold cut through my palm, and winced.