Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection

by Rebecca Royce

  “Youth?” she blurted. More hot tears filled her already swollen eyes; she felt like an old woman. She drew her shawl tighter over her shoulders and trudged up the stairs. She paused at her bedroom door and gazed out the southern window at her dear friend, the ancient oak.

  “I spent many happy days under your—”

  She squinted and rubbed her eyes, doubting her blurry vision. “What the hell?” She went to the window and threw it open for a clear view of the tree. “What happened to you?” She spun about and dropped the shawl as she darted down the stairs and out the door.

  By the time she got to the top of the hill, she was winded. She held her side and leaned against the tree, gazing into the branches. “What’s wrong? You’re dying.”

  She backed away and inspected the top branches. The leaves were wilted. She examined the ground and saw flowers dying in a circle around the tree. In an instant, she knew how the tree was dying, she just didn’t know who or what had caused it.

  Late afternoon shadows began to stretch, so she ran back to the house and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt and pulled on an old pair of boots. She grabbed gloves and a flashlight from the kitchen, several shopping bags, a hand trowel and a mason jar.

  After returning to the oak tree, she scooped earth from its roots and deposited it in a bag. Dead flowers followed and a branch that had fallen from the top. She left these items and went to the stream. She collected a sample, noticing the dead weeds along the streambed.

  She followed the trail of blackened vegetation up the slope from the tree. In a flat section at the very edge of their unfenced property, she discovered a large patch of black earth.

  A circle of death.

  Moles and other underground creatures littered the black earth. Worms lay in tangled, desiccated masses. Insects that had crawled into the blackened section never made it out. A squirrel clutching a nut in its dead paws gazed with eyes long dried out.

  “This is what killed everything I love,” she whispered.

  She carefully scooped up the dead soil and bagged it. As she returned to the old oak and collected her other samples, a new emotion flared in her heart, replacing her grief with another driving emotion. One that put heat in her body and chased away the chills. An emotion with teeth instead of tears. An emotion that put fire in her step …

  The screaming and unrelenting drive for retribution.

  As the time portal closed, silence remained. Malachi watched the hounds glance among themselves. “I wouldn’t want her coming after me,” Dalton joked, seriously yet half-heartedly.

  “So, she gets him, Bronson. He deserves it,” Zander said.

  “But that’s not where it ends,” Malachi warned. “He’s going to kill her. We can’t let that happen until you’ve all connected with her karma.”

  The three traded hesitant looks. Finally, Zander asked, “How do we do that?”

  “What better way than to save her life?”

  Three

  The next day, based on what he’d learned from the time portal, Zander waited for Bella in the university library. He gazed about for a figure wearing a dark hoodie and carrying a muzzled 9mm handgun. In the time portal, she’s shot through the heart.

  “Right here.” He stood at the exact spot in the library where she dies.

  “Not today,” he muttered.

  Bella entered the university law library and went to a favorite spot in the far corner where she dropped her satchel. She was on the hunt for information about a case she was thinking of opening up. The Bronson ordeal was behind her and she needed another project.

  The money from Bronson’s chemical company left her financially independent, giving her the freedom to work as she pleased. Since putting Bronson behind bars had been so satisfying, she sought another case of wrong doing that would benefit from her efforts. As an independent investigative journalist, she was unrestrained, unlike officers of the court—a liberty that gave her leverage.

  She bent over to scour a lower shelf, then backed up, flicking her finger over the spine of each book. Her rump hit a firm, muscular obstruction. “Oh,” she said, and stood abruptly. Her movement was too fast; she wobbled as her hair flew about her face.

  Zander stood one step around the corner of a stack from where Bella searched for a book. He couldn’t help but have sadness for the coming death of this vibrant girl. Following this emotion came a rush of guilt for the many lives he’d ended. For a fleeting moment, remorse for his behavior seeped into his heart, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Well, that’s why we’re here.

  Bella was beautiful with brown hair showing reddish glints and eyes the color of sun-lit whiskey. She was deceptively slim in form, for he knew what power and determination she wielded. It’s a shame she has to die. And yet, I’m glad.

  She bent and backed towards him, presenting a fine view of her rear as he stepped in the way. She bumped into him and stood, spinning too fast and losing her balance.

  He reached out to catch her.

  A firm hand grasped her arm, steadying her.

  She pulled the hair from her eyes and gazed into the most ethereal pale blue eyes fringed with absurdly thick black lashes she’d ever seen. Inwardly, she cringed for how lacking hers were in comparison.

  Above the eyes were full dark eyebrows, matching the lashes. Below, he had a square jaw and a beautiful mouth that drew her attention. Her first thought was, whoa baby, where’d you come from? Hot looking guys were more popular in her dreams than her social circle, and this one was a knockout.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She blinked and pursed her lips with wonder, oddly feeling disconnected, as if startled from a dream. With his intense gaze upon her, she stuttered. “Of course, I mean, well, yes.” Sounding like a babbling idiot, her cheeks heated and she coughed for a diversion to collect her wits.

  “You were looking for a book?” he asked. “I’m Zander, by the way. Zander Morris.” He released her arm and held his hand out.

  “I’m Bella Shay,” she said. Distantly, she thought of the pepper spray she’d left in her car. But her heart raced oddly and in a good way, telling her she didn’t need the spray. She smiled and took his hand.

  At the first touch of his warm skin, she wanted to sigh with pleasure. His hand was smooth and sensuous as their flesh pressed together. A sudden vision sprang into her mind of other flesh pursuing the business of pressing together. Her wild thoughts brought more heat to invade her cheeks just as an awkward silence filled their space.

  He peered into her eyes and asked, “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  She never saw him pick the book off the shelf. Taking it, she murmured as she read the binding. “How did you—?” This is the book I was looking for. “How did you do that?”

  “Oh, just a talent I have,” he answered. “Why are you here today?”

  His question seemed a little off and a little invasive, but his pretty eyes made her want to answer him. “I’m an investigative journalist looking for a case to open.”

  “Really?” he answered. “I’m impressed. Have you done this before?”

  She began walking back to her cubicle but stopped to answer him. “I just put a man in jail—the man who destroyed my home, my inheritance, and killed my parents.” At the end of her last word, a heavy pressure seemed to sit on top of her. She cocked her head, momentarily mystified.

  As he walked with Bella, Zander picked up a thick book. The man in the hoodie was tracking them from the stacks three rows down. When they reached the place where she’s shot, her killer reached into his pocket. Zander touched Bella and compelled her. “Bend over and pick up my pen.” He released his pen. She bent to get it, and he held the heavy book to his chest in perfect timing to stop the bullet.

  Bella forgot what she had meant to say when Zander dropped his pen and it rolled to the edge of the book stack. She grabbed it. But a distinctive muffled noise came just as something moving very fast flew over her bent form. A sound suspiciousl
y like a bullet striking an object followed. She jumped up, fright firing her heart. “What was that?”

  She glanced about, searching with alarm.

  Zander rocked back on his heels when the slug thudded into the book. He made eye contact with the shooter just before the man calmly turned and walked off.

  “What was that?” Bella said, suddenly straightening up, her eyes huge as she glanced about.

  Zander set his book down on a shelf and steered her toward her cubicle. Before she could ask him how he knew which one was hers, he set her down in the chair, keeping his hand on her shoulder. “There was no sound. You heard nothing. You’re perfectly fine.”

  He released her. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Bella Shay. Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

  She watched Zander walk off, appreciating the nice fit of his jeans. She blinked and he was gone like a wisp of smoke, leaving her with a tingling sensation in her core and the strange feeling she’s missed something. What she didn’t miss was the sexual attraction; the prospect of meeting him again gave her chills—the good kind.

  “Putting you in my dreams and my prayers.”

  “That was close, but well done,” Malachi said to Zander.

  “Yes. Mission accomplished.”

  “And you saved her life,” Ransom added. “You’re now connected.”

  “I don't understand how she owes me when she doesn’t know that I saved her life,” Zander said.

  “She doesn’t know,” Malachi answered. “But the karmic tally knows, and you two are now attached to each other via karma. You’ll need that connection to solidify your relationship once she’s dead.” He turned to Ransom. “Now you. See what’s going to happen and how you’ll save her life next.” He waved his hand and a portal opened.

  At Nuit Décadent, the latest dance hot spot, Bella wove her way through the crowd, seeking a table off to the side. The sensual music was too loud, and erotically clothed girls danced on raised platforms highlighted with spotlights revealing nipples through sheer tops.

  The beat drove through her body. She loved to come here to dance and lose her mind in the music. Occasionally, and very occasionally, she’d find someone who could dance with her and make her feel like a desirable young woman. Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d find someone to take home. Such opportunities were rare.

  She sipped her margarita and began to move with the music. Setting her drink on the table, she moved onto the dance floor, letting the pulse fill her body and move into her soul. In the bitter loneliness that followed the death of her parents, music provided the solace she needed. She rocked and let her hips sway side to side as she lifted her arms over her head.

  A body bumped into her and she turned. Oh, my … How long have I prayed for a lover like this?

  He had chestnut brown hair and dark sensual eyes with a smile to make her orgasm right on the dance floor. “Hello, gorgeous,” she cooed. She ran a hand over his chest, noting the firm muscles beneath the shirt. He smiled and moved behind her. She backed into him and they moved in synch in a spontaneous but raunchy grind.

  Something in his energy made her want to be with him here on the dance floor—and maybe more. She faced him and rose on her tiptoes. “What’s your name?”

  He cupped her head close. “I’m Ransom.”

  She pointed to her chest. “I’m Bella.”

  They danced several songs before she stopped and fanned herself. “Hot,” she shouted over the music.

  Definitely hot, she thought. In fact, the desire to get even hotter filled her mind with erotic images. A flash of desire whipped from her core, leaving her legs trembling. In an absolute miracle of abundance, she wanted him as much as she wanted the elusive Zander.

  Hope filled her heart that her prayers had at last been answered.

  Ransom cruised through the crowd before Bella arrived. Having only seen the man wanting to kill her from his back in the portal, all he knew to look for was black hair.

  Bella arrived at her table and set her drink down, then moved to the dance floor. She was incredible. In all his years of cunning and conning, he’d never seen such beautiful grace and purpose. Maybe all I ever looked for was what I could steal.

  He joined her on the floor where the music drew a spell around them. He danced with her, enjoying her sinuous moves and spirited energy. She was vivacious, and he couldn’t help but feel anger for her coming death. And yet, he also couldn’t help but be glad.

  They danced like lovers, her body hugging his as they ground through the beat and the heat. She rose on her tiptoes to ask, “What’s your name?”

  To answer over the music, he cupped her head close. “I’m Ransom.”

  She pointed to her chest. “I’m Bella.”

  Bella couldn’t believe her luck.

  Finding such a good-looking dancer and a gentleman was a miracle. He mimed taking a drink. She gave a thumbs-up and pointed to her table. As they made their way off the dance floor, a man with black hair walked by her table and stood a moment with his back to them. But by the time they got there, he was gone. She picked up the drink with one thought—

  I need another one.

  In the instant before she downed the wilted margarita—

  Ransom stopped time with a flick of his fingers. He glanced around. Everyone was paused in mid-motion. The music stopped, leaving the room eerily silent, abandoned in between beats.

  The glass Bella held stopped an inch from her lips. He eased it from her fingers and made his way through the crowd of manikin-like dancers to fix her a new drink. The bartender had his mouth open and a sly look in his eye as he gazed at a girl leaning his way at the bar.

  Ransom dumped the drink down the drain and rinsed the glass before setting it in the stack for washing. He salted a fresh glass and filled it with ice. Tequila, mix, and a splash of triple sec finished it. He made his way back to Bella. Knowing she had plans for them beyond today’s mission, he placed the glass in her hand, then darted to the door and restarted time before he slipped away.

  Bella almost dropped the glass that was suddenly heavy with a fresh drink and liberally salted. She set it down and blinked, certain she’d fallen into a rabbit hole, for gorgeous was gone. Not understanding how she could miss his exit, she checked her drink, wondering if she’d been drugged.

  But she hadn’t tasted it yet. She stuck out her lower lip with disappointment.

  Damn. I really wanted him.

  “Fortunate you were able to stop time,” Dalton said. “I wonder what that guy put in her drink.”

  “Don't worry about him. He’ll get his karmic due,” Malachi said.

  “I have a question,” Zander announced. “If we’re saving her life, does our appearance, even though we’re in human form, count as viewing of a hound?”

  They waited with anxious faces for his answer. “I’m afraid so. Soon, the bell will toll for her. But first we have to save her one more time.” He glanced at Dalton. “Ready to see?”

  He opened another portal.

  Bella filled her gas tank on the edge of town. She’d gotten an anonymous tip claiming to have additional incriminating information about Bronson Chemicals from someone who wanted to meet at a truck stop outside of town.

  “Another nail in his coffin—works for me.” She pulled away from the gas pumps and saw a handsome man standing on the side of the road. He didn’t have his thumb out, but she couldn’t help but stare at him.

  As she slowly drove by, he gazed at her as if waiting for her to stop. Some force akin to gravity tugged at her and she pulled over and rolled down the window. The handy pepper spray rested in her console, ready at a moment’s notice, but she sensed no threat, in fact she felt safe. “Hi. I’m Bella. Need a ride?”

  When he smiled, his eyes lit with boyish charm. “Yes, please.”

  His words, soft as a whisper, lulled her and drew her in so that she leaned towards him. She wanted to hear him say more, wanted the seductive caress of his voice. She smiled in return and flipped th
e door lock.

  He got in. “Thank you. I’m Dalton.”

  “Where’re you going, Dalton?” she asked.

  Before he answered, there it was again, his smile. He gestured in a vague fashion void of specifics. “Up here just a bit.”

  He had the face of a handsome young boy, with reddish-brown hair and sage green eyes who held secrets. He managed to be both open and engaging yet cloaked in mystery. Three handsome men in one week. That’s not prayers answered, that’s winning the lottery. She shrugged with glee and pulled into traffic.

  They travelled a two-lane highway curving through low hills that gradually went higher. Steep drop-offs on their side of the road were punctuated by random spaces for pulling off the highway. She asked, “Are you from around here?”

  He didn’t answer and leaned forward in his seat, examining the road. She opened her mouth to ask another question when he shouted, “Here!” and pointed to a place on the side of the road barely big enough for her to pull into.

  She hit the brakes and swerved off the road.

  At that instant, a tractor trailer truck came barreling around the curve completely in their lane. She hit her horn and shrieked at the driver. He’d missed them by inches.

  Her heart slammed against her ribs with adrenaline and she grabbed Dalton’s arm. “If you hadn’t made me pull over, we would have been creamed.”

  In spite of the terrifying moment, he managed to smile again. “Sorry for the sudden stop, I wasn’t sure where we needed to be.” He opened the door and got out but leaned in the passenger window. “Maybe you should go home. It doesn’t seem safe out here.”