Crossing my arms over my chest, I chose to stand next to Spectre. He was the most palatable of these guys, the only one I could have a solid conversation with that didn’t eventually end up in an argument. Things would get better though, right? I mean, they had to. I was having a kid with Graceley. That wasn’t going away. And I wasn’t going to be a piece of shit absentee father. So, whether I liked it or not, I’d be dealing with her every day for years.
And thing was, I did want to deal with her. I liked her.
Maybe I loved her, too? I don’t know. I was shit with emotions.
“So how long is this asshole going to take?” I mumbled, and heard my familiar make a sharp hiss from a bookshelf beside me.
“Not much longer!” the black cat yowled as a large figure dropped through the ceiling, showering us with beams and bits of drywall that crumbled over our heads and filled the air with white dust. I had a split-second to dodge to one side before a hand lined with talons thrust out at me, scraping the air where I’d just been standing.
“Coulda used a bit more warning, Connard!” I shouted back at my familiar as the demon—who wasn’t wearing any fucking pants, like come on, dude!—came at me again. His skin was solid gray, and his eyes were black as pits, like his pupils had bled over and consumed his irises. He had huge, leathery wings, like the ones I had when I unleashed my inner beast.
The demon’s dick was rock-hard and bouncing around as he attacked me. Sorta made it hard to fight him off when I was so concerned with not touching his cock.
“Dude, get some boxers, bro,” I snarled, throwing out a spell I had coiled in one of my tattoos. The ink unraveled from my skin and lashed out like a snake, pushing the incubus back several steps and knocking him on his bare ass. Argent reached around his neck, lifting him up and off the floor. I think he figured his hold was good enough to drag the asshole into the spell circle. I guess being juiced up on our magic had given the incubus more power than he otherwise would’ve had.
The dude chucked Argent over his head and sent him sprawling across the floor.
“Category eight demon?” Spectre asked as the massive hulking form of Caine the werewolf appeared in the doorway with Grace behind him. I shrugged my shoulders because shit if I knew anything about categorizing demons.
“Definitely an eight,” Grace said, whipping her ivory handled broom over her shoulder. Just looking at it made me cringe. I mean, ivory to demons was like iron to faeries or silver to werewolves. It fucking hurt. Combine that with a bone blade, and my half-witch, half-demon ass would be done and out for the count. “And we don’t want to hurt him; this is going to be a tough one. We need him in the circle long enough to cast the containment spell.”
“We don’t want to hurt him?” Monster parroted, walking calmly between us and stretching his weird-ass shadow wings behind him. “You said we couldn’t kill him.”
“Monster,” Grace warned, before the jerk’s wings unraveled like chains, shooting across the length of the room and wrapping around the incubus fucker. The man howled, a wild sort of sound that clearly said he was out of his goddess-damned mind. The shadow wings retracted, yanking the creature along with them.
With a burst of power, the incubus stretched his own wings out and broke free, letting power ripple out from his core. I could feel it, too, like a bunch to the gut. It … made my dick as hard as a rock. Like, seriously?! More dick-hardening magic?
Cursing under my breath, I watched the wolf take off, leaping into the air and ricocheting off one of the lobby walls to hit the incubus from behind. He knocked him over and landed with all four paws on the man’s back and legs. His jaws snapped at the incubus’ neck, locking down on his scruff as he attempted to drag him into my spell circle.
Didn’t last long. This was one, tough motherfucker. And while I’m pretty sure Argent or Monster or maybe even Graceley could’ve killed him with a well-placed spell, that wasn’t the point here. No, underneath all of this bullshit, the man was innocent.
I searched through my tattoos, testing the magic of each spell and trying to see if I had something that might help here. Huh. I came up against an aphrodisiac spell I’d had done when I turned eighteen. I’d never used it because as arrogant as it’d been to get a spell that could turn any adult person into a sex-addicted monster with eyes intent on me, I’d known it was wrong to use it. Like, that was sexual assault, right? So I had the tat, but I’d never cast it.
Until now, that is.
Because that old saying, fight fire with fire, could also apply to fighting sex with sex, right?
The incubus rolled and flung Caine against the wall, ready for the Spec when the vampire came at him. Graceley was there, too, and she cast a spell that sent vines crawling up from the floor, wrapping the demon’s ankles and holding him in place just long enough for me to launch my own spell.
It exploded across the room like lightning, hitting the incubus dead in the chest. It curled around his body like a spark, bouncing around his skin with wild energy. When he turned his eyes to me, I wondered if I’d made a seriously stupid mistake.
Stepping back, I lined myself up with the center of the pentagram and waited for him to come at me. And come at me he did, his dick launching the attack. Woulda been funny, you know, if I didn’t think he was seriously going to try to have sex with me.
The incubus collided with me, and we ended up in a wrestling match as I summoned power and fed it into the circle, casting the containment spell under my breath that would hold him still long enough for us to cure this fucker of his unwanted transformation. His claws scrabbled at me, raking across my chest and spattering blood on the floor. I had a very bad feeling when he flipped me over, like maybe this was a stupid goddess-damned idea after all. The man acted like he was getting ready to rape me, and I’d already gotten far too close to that particular scenario to deal with this. Ugly memories rose up inside my head as I watched Monster step up beside me, yanking the incubus off and tossing him to his ass on the floor.
I took his hand, even though I was loathe to touch it, and let him pull me to the edge of the circle. Joining hands with Grace on my other side, I relaxed as much as I could, sweat pouring down my skin and dripping to the floor. When we released our magic, letting it flow around the circle, things felt strangely complete. Yeah, I was attached to my … uh, soulmates (fuck I hate that word), but Monster was here, too. And thank fuck, according to the oracle: he was most definitely not one of us.
For whatever reason, that feeling of completeness overtook me and surged out and into the circle, stripping the human of the magic we’d unwitting cast on him. It happened quick, but it looked painful as hell, and his screams were wild and ragged, tearing his throat up in a way that made me cringe.
When the power crumbled away, there was a hairy, naked human dude in his place.
Honestly, it kinda looked better as a demon.
I watched him collapse … and then I passed out.
Group spells man, they’ll do that to you.
But hey, positive side of Monster not being our soulmate (besides the fact that I hated him): he was there to watch over us when he passed out. He’d done it once before, so what was one more? Guess I’d have to remember to thank the asshole later.
Chapter 5
“When You Want the Monster Under the Bed”
Graceley
The human-turned-incubus-turned-human-again was tucked safely in the bed of a hotel room with a wad of money on the nightstand and no memory of anything other than waking up that morning. He wouldn’t remember he was in the shop, that he’d bought a bath bomb, or how his apartment building had been trashed, but at least he was still alive.
I felt sorry for the guy, but what else could I do? Tell him that an orgy had fucked-up my magic bath bombs and temporarily turned him into a demon? Nope. Not going to happen.
So I let myself and headed down to the lobby with Caine by my side. The rest of the guys were waiting for me, with Monster off to one side. It was as
if Spec’s, Caine’s, and Argent’s hatred of Monster was drawing them closer to Hex. Since I knew nothing could ever happen between me and Monster again, I’d take it. Although I still didn’t quite understand how him masturbating outside my back window (totally creepy, by the way) had anything to do with how the spell went haywire.
“So, it’s officially not Valentine’s Day anymore,” I said, although I didn’t particularly care at that point. A hot bath sans bath bomb sounded freaking amazing right now. The kids were with grandma and grandpa for the night, and I had sore feet, a magical hangover from using so much power, and dinner plans that’d been shattered hours ago.
“Well,” Hex said after a moment, “it’s not much, but I’ve, like, never planned a Valentine’s Day before, so I just sort of got one of everything.” He gestured over his shoulder toward his motorcycle, and I felt my cheeks heat slightly. “I’ve got a half-dozen bouquets of roses in every color, chocolates, champagne, all that shit, back at the shop.” Hex looked at me and ruffled up his orange and black hair with his fingers.
“What were you going to do with all of it?” Spec asked, seeming genuinely curious.
Hex just shrugged his shoulders and looked me dead in the eye.
“I dunno, try to subtly ask what her favorite flowers were, favorite chocolates, whatever, and pick shit out for tonight?” He sighed again, but his expression was slightly softer when he looked at me. He was trying, and that was what mattered. “Never seriously dated a chick before, and most definitely was never part of a harem, so I’m still figuring things out.”
“Well,” Argent said, reaching out to brush some hair back from my face. “The Valentine’s Day surprises we have worked out are ridiculously inappropriate. Shall we hit the shop first, grab Hex’s gifts, and head home? I’ll cook; Caine can rub your feet.”
“And I’ll rub other things,” Spec purred as Caine growled and curled his arms around me from behind. Goddess, but it felt good to be surrounded by these men—even Hex. Because as much as I resisted when I first met him … I kinda liked him.
“Deal,” I said, holding back a ridiculously embarrassing giggle. Proper witches did not giggle. No fucking way. I felt a cool breeze at my back and turned to see the door closing as Monster swept out and left down the sidewalk, throwing up a glamour as he went. But just before he passed out of sight, I saw him turn to me and mouth something that I swear I felt all the way in my bones.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
There was some strange, wicked part of me that almost went after him, that almost called him back and invited him into our celebration.
But there was no place for him here.
His ship and mine, they’d passed by each other in the night, and left me a fiery wreck. That was it for us. He wasn’t my soulmate, and he didn’t belong in my family.
So why the hex did it feel like he did?
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” I whispered back, just before I turned my attention back to my husbands—and my boyfriend—and let them pull me into a happily for now.
The question was: could it ever really be a happily ever after without Monster in it?
About C.M. Stunich
C.M. Stunich is a self-admitted bibliophile with a love for exotic teas and a whole host of characters who live full time inside the strange, swirling vortex of her thoughts. Some folks might call this crazy, but Caitlin Morgan doesn't mind - especially considering she has to write biographies in the third person. Oh, and half the host of characters in her head are searing hot bad boys with dirty mouths and skillful hands (among other things). If being crazy means hanging out with them everyday, C.M. has decided to have herself committed.
She hates tapioca pudding, loves to binge on cheesy horror movies, and is a slave to many cats. When she's not vacuuming fur off of her couch, C.M. can be found with her nose buried in a book or her eyes glued to a computer screen. She's the author of over thirty novels - romance, new adult, fantasy, and young adult included. Please, come and join her inside her crazy. There's a heck of a lot to do there.
Oh, and Caitlin loves to chat (incessantly), so feel free to e-mail her, send her a Facebook message, or put up smoke signals. She's already looking forward to it.
Stalk me, please!
www.cmstunich.com
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Description
Being a Valkyrie isn’t easy, not when two gods steal your heart and the goddess of love is currently dead… And looking for her replacement is more impossible than I thought.
I’m Val, best friend to the goddess of death and her harem of gods. When love starts disappearing from the world on Valentine’s Day, my leaders give me a side mission that is doomed to fail.
Find the new god of love before Valentine's Day is over or lose my powers for good.
If only finding the god were easy and the two gods
I’m not allowed to love would stop getting in my way…
Who said being a Valkyrie would mean giving up your heart?
Chapter 1
There’s something positively delicious about wanting something you can’t have. I’ve always been two steps ahead of myself, reaching for things I shouldn’t want and grabbing hold anyway. My parents used to always tell me this is a bad flaw of mine, something I need to improve to live my life the way a Valkyrie should. I’ve never been one for the rules and doing everything I’m told, yet still somehow I passed the Valkyrie test all those years ago.
You only live once, right? And when you’re a Valkyrie like me, you gotta grab life by the metaphorical balls. Never know when one battle will go wrong.
This is what I tell myself as I sway to music with a pleasurable beat, half naked on the dance floor at one of the most notorious clubs in the underworld. It got hot, okay? And bodies aren’t as feared here as they are up top with the humans. I lost my glittery tube top ages ago and am about to lose these denim shorts riding up my ass. Clothes are so pointless. What’s the use in having a hot immortal body if I can’t show it off?
“How is it that you always end up naked at my parties?” a familiar voice grumbles, and I practically swoon, knowing that I’m already helpless to his allure. I put on my best game face, turning to face the sexy man that belongs to the smoky voice speaking to me over the thumping music.
Broderick. Damn intoxicatingly attractive man. He has wavy brown hair and bright eyes. His strong jaw makes me want to run my tongue along the sharp lines of his face, and his tan seems to glow in the flashing lights of the club. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask with a slight bow, feeling his god powers already tickling at my skin.
“Hah. First time I’ve heard that one,” he replies while rolling his eyes. I guess being the god of pleasure has its pitfalls—like my terrible jokes for one. Once upon a time, my snide jokes and puns made him laugh; now it’s always so serious between us. Guess that’s what breaking off our forbidden relationship does to a guy.
“Couldn’t resist,” I say as I take a step closer to dance with him. It’s risky, anyone could see us here, see the obvious sexual tension dancing between us. I also feel bad for teasing him with a relationship I’ve ended too many times to count. We have a cycle:
We fuck. Everywhere. Anywhere. As long as no one can see us, we’re going like rabbits.
I remember that as a Valkyrie, if we’re caught, I could have my wings and immortality stripped.
I break up with him for a decade or so.
Then, we repeat. I’ve always liked a little danger. Always been turned on by risks. Gods and Valkyries do not mix, but he’s too damn tempting to resist. Valkyries are charged with protecting the gods and guiding them on the path to redemption. Sometimes we cannot save them, but most of the time we can. And even though the god of pleasure isn’t my god to look after, I still can’t date him. I would be stripped of my Valkyrie wings, and my powers would be lost. I’d be human, left on earth to live out my days.
He trails a fi
nger down my ribs, and his hot touch ignites my skin, making power pulse through my body, bringing the pleasure of the thudding beat to an entirely new erotic level.
“Why are you at my party, Val?” he asks as the music fades, another little god power I envy. No one around us can hear our voices. “Is it time again for us to break the rules? You know I’m addicted to your pleasure,” he purrs.
“Maybe I was hoping to run into you,” I say.
“You know you shouldn’t be hoping for such a thing. However, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m happy to see you. Are you not off being a terrible guardian tonight?” he asks.
I almost leave him right there, but of course there’s the delicious way he’s holding me and the pleasure powers surging through my body keeping me still. I’ve never been able to resist him; it’s why I always come back despite the risks. “One time! I fail one time, and no one will let me forget it.” He is, of course, bringing up the fight with Persephone, goddess of love. The moment she kicked my ass—let me clarify, I let her kick my ass—everyone in the underworld was talking about it.
Broderick tips his head back and laughs. “You’re lucky you didn’t get too badly hurt. I’d hate to have to punish you for being so careless with your beautiful, precious life, little one,” he says.
“You know I happen to like how you punish,” I reply, and the electric tension between us seems to grow tenfold. Too bad he’s a god and I’m not allowed. Too bad I never really cared about rules.
“Should we go upstairs?” he asks, whispering now, and we both know what my answer will be. “If my memory is correct, you really like the office suites that hover over the club. The 360 degree windows allow for a beautiful view.”
Love Potion: A Valentine's Day Charity Anthology Page 29