Love Potion: A Valentine's Day Charity Anthology

by Graceley Knox

  "I wanted to discuss the terms of this criminal’s sentencing," the judge informed me, clearing his throat. Lahash was glaring death at me, and her dress seemed to be weeping, if the puddle beneath her was any indication. Or I hoped it was her dress crying and not her getting off on River's punishment.

  Again, I shuddered.

  "Shouldn't his attorney be present?" I asked, darting a confused look at Lachlan.

  Judge Soul-Eater leveled a stare at me with his all-black eyes. "Do you think Trent should be present?"

  I grimaced. "Yeah, good point. So, what is there to discuss? Obviously, I won't be leaving here without my husband."

  "But you have plenty of other ones," the demoness hissed at me, her mouth twisting in disgust. "You'll barely even notice this one is gone."

  I glared back at her, channelling a little of Cole’s and Vali's dragon fire into my gaze and getting the satisfaction of seeing her squirm a bit.

  "Like I said," I reiterated, turning back to the judge. "I won't be leaving this realm without River."

  "Yes, I suspected as much," the judge murmured. "See this is where it gets tricky. Your River still contains the remnant soul of Fenrir, who has been convicted in the courts of Hell. There is nothing I can do to change that."

  I clenched my teeth to keep from losing my temper. "What does that mean, exactly?"

  "It means that Fenrir can't leave this realm," Lachlan explained. "Not physically."

  I raised my brows at him in a what-the-fuck-are-you-playing-at sort of way, and he just gave me a tiny, frustrated headshake.

  "Is this the part where I need to start blowing shit up?" I asked in a quiet, calm voice while my mental guards lowered and my body filled with so much raw magic that my hair started to float.

  The judge huffed out smoke and shook his horned head. "That won't be necessary, Madam Fox. The princes have kindly offered their assistance in a compromise."

  Suspicious, I turned my power-filled stare to Lachlan and his buddy.

  "Fenrir can't leave this realm," the other prince stated in a smooth, almost musical voice. "But your River has done nothing that can be punished under demon laws. We think the only solution here is to separate them."

  I sucked in a short gasp, then choked on a stray droplet of saliva. Damn it. So smooth.

  "Sorry?" I croaked, trying to swallow down the coughing. "Separate them how? They're one and the same."

  Lachlan tilted his head and pursed his lips. "Yes and no. The semantics are fiddly, but suffice to say that this is the only way you're leaving here with River."

  I narrowed my eyes. "Not the only way."

  My mother's ex sighed like I was being petulant. "The only way that won't cause a cross-realm war, which will result in thousands, if not millions of deaths. Are you really prepared to be the catalyst for so much death again so soon?"

  His pointed remark reminded me of the blood-soaked salt flats of Bolivia, where my mother had brought a full-scale battle to me and I'd won. Just. It was a low blow, and Lachlan damn well knew it.

  "What does this entail?" I demanded, my voice quivering with barely contained anger and frustration. Lachlan was treading on thin ice with me now.

  "It's a fairly simple thing," the other prince responded to my question, sounding a bit bored. "Between myself and Lachlan, we will be able to enter the prisoner's soul and"—he whipped out a long, polished obsidian blade from his belt—"just carve off whatever remains of Fenrir. Then that bit stays here for Lahash to play revenge with, and the rest goes home with you."

  I darted a look to River, but he seemed incapable of speaking. His lips were clenched tightly together, and his jaw was set in a way that I knew meant he was desperate to say something.

  "Why can't he speak?" I asked the judge, and he just flapped a hand dismissively.

  "Demon rules. Lots of our kind can cast spells using their words, so the magic binding holds their tongues just as effectively as their limbs." Judge Soul-Eater nodded to the blue electricity zapping and searing across River's skin.

  I nodded slightly, understanding the precaution but not particularly liking it.

  My gaze met River's, and I struggled to make out what he was trying to tell me. Unfortunately for me, I'd relied far too heavily on our guardian link to know what he was thinking in the past few years. Suddenly faced with a block in our bond, I was just guessing.

  "That process sounds painful," I commented, turning my attention back to the princes. "Are there any lasting effects?"

  Lachlan gave a small nod. "His hellhound aspect will be gone, of course. He'd just be left with what he was always intended to be."

  "A white alpha wolf," I murmured softly, looking back over at River. Maybe this would be a good thing? "Anything else?"

  Lachlan sucked in a breath and pursed his lips, so the other prince responded. "There might be some minor brain damage."

  My gaze shot back to the second prince, and I frowned. "How minor? In my opinion, all brain damage would be major."

  The demon prince shrugged. "That's your opinion. But cutting chunks of someone's soul away is not easy business. How badly damaged it leaves him, well that's yet to be seen. What condition your River comes out in simply depends how deeply integrated the two souls."

  "What he means," Lachlan interjected, "is that we won't know until it's done. If Fenrir is woven tightly into River's soul, then it's entirely possible he will be left rather... shredded." Lachlan grimaced at this and gave River a small, apologetic glance.

  I took a couple of measured breaths to keep from freaking right the Hell out. After everything that had happened in the past few years—discovering my powers, bonding my dianoch, leading an army... ruling an entire race of supernatural beings—I'd come a long damn way on my impulse control. Had someone presented me with this choice before all of that, I probably would have opted to blow the whole damn realm up.

  But things were different now.

  "What would you do?" I asked Lachlan directly, meeting his eyes without blinking. "If Lucy was in River's shoes right now? What would you do?"

  Lachlan cringed and dropped his gaze from mine. He'd made a stupid decision involving my bestie recently, and while it hadn't ended well, I could tell he’d lost his heart in the process.

  "This is the best way, Kit," he reiterated. "I believe that your Ban Dia bond will preserve River's mental capacities enough that he can heal... in time."

  I stared at Lachlan a long time, weighing the sincerity of his words. This must have been what he'd meant when he'd reminded me of the debt he owed. He was trying to tell me to accept the deal, as it wasn't going to get any better than this.

  My attention shifted back to River, and he gave me a short nod. Not so much of a "yes, let's do this!" nod, more of an "I trust you; do whatever you think is best," sort of nod.

  Holding his gaze steadily, I sucked in a deep breath, then released it heavily.

  "Fine, let's do it. But I require those bonds be removed from him."

  "Why?" Lahash sneered. "So he can shift and fight his way out of here? I don't think so."

  Judge Soul-Eater groaned and rolled his black eyes. Or... I think that's what he did. It was hard to tell when there was no clearly defined iris. "Lahash, shut up. If Madam Fox wanted to take that approach, I hardly think binding cuffs would make a goblin's dick of difference." He waved a clawed hand at River, and the blue lightning faded from sight, leaving River rubbing his raw skin.

  "Are you okay with this?" I asked him carefully, worried that I'd made the wrong choice on his behalf. The small smile I got in response alleviated my fears, though, and a palpable wash of relief ran through me.

  He stepped closer to me, with just a brief glance at the judge to check that it was okay, before clasping my hands in his. "I trust you, Kitten. If anyone can keep my soul intact, it's you."

  I glowered up at him. "No pressure or anything."

  The corner of his mouth turned up in a half smile, and my heart fluttered. Damn him.

>   "I'm going to need the rest of my dianoch in here," I announced to whoever was in charge. Judge Soul-Eater, Lachlan, his buddy... certainly not Lahash—raging bitch that she was. "Non-negotiable."

  "Go get them," the judge nodded to a tiny, wrinkled creature that I hadn't even noticed crouching in the corner of the room like a statue. The thing bobbed its head and scurried away to grab the rest of my guys.

  In reality, I probably didn't need them in the same room. Our bond was strong enough I could draw from them anywhere and in any realm. But it made me feel better if I could physically see them.

  For the couple of moments it took for them to arrive, no one spoke. The only sound was of Lachlan's demon-prince friend sharpening his blade with an expensive-looking carved stone.

  Fucking psychopath.

  Just as I was about to yell at him to quit it, the door opened again and my dianoch all poured in, surrounding River and I in a loose semicircle.

  "All right, gang's all here. Let's begin." The knife-wielding prince stepped forward eagerly, and Lachlan grabbed him by the arm.

  "Hold up," he snapped, then cast a quick portal spell, which opened a glowing, black hole beside the judge’s desk. "The second we separate Fenrir from River, you get your asses into that portal, understood? He will instinctively try to re-join with his former host, and no one would survive this removal proceedure twice. Are we clear?"

  I gave him a firm nod, and he released his colleague's arm.

  As quickly as I could, I dropped all mental barriers between me and my guardians and strengthened the bond between us. From there, I threw together an intricate web of our combined magic and wrapped it around and around River's golden, glowing core.

  "Let's do this," River muttered, sucking in a deep breath right before that obsidian blade sunk into his aura.

  Chapter 7

  River

  Sunlight beat down on my closed eyelids, filling my world with orange light and dragging me out of my deep slumber. I couldn't remember what I'd been dreaming—I never had been able to, but something told me I didn't want to remember this one.

  Blinking into the light, I groaned. Hot flares of pain zapped through my skull, and I squeezed my eyes tightly shut again.

  What the fuck had happened to me? Had I drank too much?

  "River," Cole's deep voice rumbled somewhere nearby. "Can you hear me?"

  Confusion rattled through me. Why would he be concerned I couldn't hear him?

  "Cole?" I mumbled, and my voice came out weak and croaky. My whole throat was as dry as the Sahara, and my tongue was like a giant furry caterpillar. "What happened?"

  Had there been a car accident? Or...

  "What's the last thing you remember?" Wesley's voice asked, and I raised my hand with the intention of scrubbing my eyes to try and clear my vision.

  "Ow," I muttered, feeling something pinch the back of my hand. Squinting down at it, I saw an IV line connected to a canula. "Why am I..." I blinked a few more times, looking around the room. I was at home. Our home. The one we’d bought for Kitten... "Kitten!" I gasped, struggling to sit upright in bed. "Where is she? Is she okay? What happened?"

  Wesley and Cole both exchanged a look, then Wes turned back to me. He had a little flashlight that he flicked across my eyes—probably checking for pupil dilation—before he clicked it off and tucked it in his pocket.

  "You seem okay," Wes murmured as he swiftly detached me from the IV lines and unstrapped the blood pressure cuff from my arm. "I guess only time will tell..."

  "Wesley Reed," I growled in anger, "Where is Kitten?"

  Cole gave me a crooked smile. It was a huge sign that something bad had happened. "Come on, Alpha. I'll take you to her." He paused and cocked a scarred eyebrow at me. "Unless you need to be carried?"

  Glaring at my best mate, I pushed the blankets off my legs and climbed unsteadily out of the bed. "It'd be a cold day in Hell that I let you carry me, you bastard."

  I'd meant it as a figure of speech, but the look passing between Cole and Wes suggested there was something more going on.

  "Just show me where Kitten is," I demanded, then added, "Please."

  Cole gave a half shrug. "Follow me. I just saw her asleep on the couch."

  Eagerly, and as fast as my weak, trembling legs would carry me, I followed Cole downstairs to the den, where I immediately spotted a shock of copper hair cascading over the arm of the sofa.

  "Kitten," I breathed out a sigh of relief, rounding the sofa then freezing in shock.

  She lay there, sound asleep on the dove-gray couch... with a soft, knitted blanket draped over her huge, swollen belly.

  "What—" I gasped, barely making a sound for fear of waking her. My eyes darted to Wes and Cole, desperate for answers. They looked blankly back at me, then down at Kit, and they smiled. The bastards smiled.

  "How is this even possible?" I demanded in a harsh whisper. "How long was I unconscious for?"

  "Only—" Wes started to say, but Cole cut him off.

  "Based on the evidence before you, it's safe to say about three hundred years." The big, scaly bastard clapped me on the shoulder. "Congrats Alpha, we're going to be daddies."

  I could feel the blood drain from my face, and the room started spinning a bit.

  "Oh my crows," Wesley muttered. "Sit down before you pass out, River." He guided me over to the empty armchair and pushed me down. "What Cole means is—"

  Wesley got cut off again by Kit stirring on the couch. All I had eyes for was her, as she yawned and stretched her arms above her head.

  "River?" she gasped, spotting me, and her eyes rounded in shock. "You're out of bed! I'm so..." She trailed off as tears seemed to fill her eyes, and she looked like she might get up from the couch.

  "No, stop," I blurted. "Don't get up. You look so comfortable..." I eyed the blanket-covered bulge at her mid-section with a pointed look. She glanced down, following my line of sight, and snorted a laugh.

  "Oh. This." She narrowed her eyes at Cole, who looked like he might be on the verge of laughter, of all damn things. "Come over and say hello to our baby."

  I sucked in a sharp breath and held it as I pushed up from the chair and staggered across to her. When I reached the couch, my legs collapsed, and I fell to my knees beside her. Gently, almost reverently, she lifted the blanket to reveal...

  "A puppy?" I exclaimed in shock. "I thought—" I glared up at Cole. "You said—"

  Now he really was laughing, and I glowered at him.

  “Ah sorry, Alpha. The opportunity was too good to pass up. It’s only been a month since our trip to Hell—in case you were wondering.” The dragon bastard continued shaking with silent laughter and my eyes narrowed even further.

  "Very fucking funny," I snapped, then turned my attention back to the sleeping animal on Kit's belly. "Why do we have a puppy?"

  She grinned back at me, her eyes alight with mischief. "This is no normal puppy," she confessed. "But it's a story for another day." She shifted the jet-black animal off her and nestled it in the blankets of the couch. "Come on. You look like you need coffee."

  The love of my life took my hand in hers, leading me through to the kitchen, but something made me glance back. The puppy remained asleep on the couch, but for a brief flash, I could have sworn it opened its eyes to show me pure fire and brimstone.

  The End.

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  Description

  Valentine’s Day always brings hordes of humans and supernaturals to my shop in search of love.

  Me? I have just about as much of that as I can handle. There’s Hex, the motorcycle riding half-demon douche; Argent, the Unseelie Prince I stole from faerie; Spectre, the vampire rockstar; Caine, the Southern alpha werewolf. And then there’s Monster, an enigma of cruelty that I should cut from my life and never look back on.


  But when an out-of-control orgy taints the magic in my special heart cantrip bath bombs, we all have to work together to keep a human-turned-incubus from terrorizing the city.

  Because, well, we’re the Family Spells, and the family that casts together … hunts and destroys demons together. What can I say? It’s just that heartwarming.

  This story is best enjoyed after reading “The Family Spells” and “What the Hex?” which are books one and two in “The Family Spells Trilogy”. This novella falls between book two and three, but can be read as a stand-alone short.

  Chapter 1

  “Inappropriate Bath Bombs”

  Graceley

  My shop, Passionate Potions and Seductive Spells, was always busiest just before Valentine’s Day. It was the one time of year that there were as many humans in my store as there were supernaturals. Of course, they didn’t know we were in the middle of a demon-witch war. And they sure as hell didn’t know my ex, my soulmate-cum-boyfriend, and my three husbands were the ones stocking the shelves or helping customers at the register.

  Well, I say helping when what I really mean is arguing.

  “Vile, pigheaded, demon trash,” Argent said with a bright smile on his face. The customer he was helping cocked her head to the side and then giggled, like she had no idea what he was saying but assumed it was a flirt. She couldn’t possibly understand him since he spat his insult in the language of the sidhe, the fae race he was descended from. He wasn’t talking to her either. No, he was talking to Monster.

  The demon prince smiled back, but it wasn’t a friendly expression. He very clearly could understand Argent’s insult.

  “I agree,” Monster drawled in devilishly dark tones, his glamour flickering in my spelled vision. None of our human customers could see the ebony-skinned, white-haired demon staring back at them. Instead, they were treated to an attractive but unremarkable brunette with dark eyes, and smooth skin that hid the white lines crisscrossing his real body. Lines that contained an aphrodisiac so strong, it could turn an otherwise rational person into a raving sex-fiend. I’d been charmed by him before; I was … trying really hard not to be charmed by him now. “Hex is a vile, pigheaded piece of demon trash.”