Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection

by Rebecca Royce

  Sweetheart control your breathing. You don’t want to alert it to your presence.

  Babe, don’t die.

  I roll my eyes and flip them all the mental bird before creeping forward, inch by inch, towards the fluttery soul. My scythe senses it and has already powered up. The Angelfire bag that Santos made me as an insurance policy against a powerful soul is glowing slightly too.

  Crunch.

  My boot crashes through a fragile bone, and the resulting noise echoes through the chamber. I freeze, perched in the dark cavern like a gothic flamingo with one knee up and my scythe extended.

  The soul flutters a little, swirling upward away from the outcropping of bones. It’s now or never.

  I stop breathing for a moment and ease my foot down, calibrating my center of gravity like a cat about to pounce. I am fixated on this soul. It’s more than redemption for a first reaping gone bad, it’s the thing that will save this little family we’ve created.

  Bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet, I wiggle my ass before crouching down and exploding upwards in a powerful static jump that surprises the shit out of me. Swinging my scythe back behind me like a bat, I take aim and let myself fly towards the soul. Everything happens in slow motion. I watch in amazement as my scythe completes the arc, slicing through the rotted soul like putty. The two halves float in the air for a brief second before crashing back together on the edge of my scythe. I am so amazed that I grabbed it on the first try that I stopped paying attention to my landing. The pile of bones comes up fast and I don’t have time to tuck and roll, I just crash into them, dust and bone explode outward in a mushroom cloud of gross and dead. Momentum being what it is, I slide deeper and deeper into the cavern.

  The shouts of my mates echo and bounce off the walls. I want to answer them, but I can’t. The soul on the edge of my scythe senses an opportunity to break free and it takes everything in me to keep the weapon from being jerked out of my grip. I did not just get covered in weird sticky mud, grave dust, and bones only to lose my one shot at redemption.

  The floor slants sharply downward and I scramble to catch my footing and stop my fall, but the more I struggle, the harder it is to control my scythe.

  “Help meee,” I scream out, tumbling into another pile of bones in a sickening crunch.

  My utility belt is ripped from my waist when it catches on something sharp and jagged sticking out of the wall, leaving a jagged scrape all up my side. The coppery metallic taste of blood fills my mouth when I crack into a rock. My ears are ringing and every part of my body hurts.

  “Just. Let. Me. Help. You.” I grit out, gripping the scythe with all I have left. The staff is vibrating and my palms are slick with sweat, blood, and gods only knows what else. It's slipping out of my grip and I panic. Throwing my leg out, I hook it around a weird-looking tree and hold it as tight as I can, slowing my descent into… wherever this is.

  My chest is heaving and my arms feel like noodles. The tree I have wrapped myself around keeps making ominous creaking noises and I scan the area looking for Plan B. The asshole soul is quivering on the edge of my blade and I want to smash its smug-little-rotted-soul-face into a rock. The sounds of my mates shouting and searching for me echo somewhere above me.

  I’m stuck. I’m stuck in a tree. My beacon light is gone. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on. It sounds dramatic, but as soon as I speak the words to my mates, I know it’s true. There isn’t a part of me that isn’t exhausted, and whatever super Reaper energy I might have in the mortal realm is gone here in the in-between.

  Hold on, sweetheart. Just hold on.

  I don’t have the energy to answer him, I just lock my ankles harder around the tree and concentrate on my scythe. I feel so sleepy. A part of me screams about the dangers of falling asleep here, but for the life of me I can’t remember why it’s so bad. My eyelids are so heavy. I know my mates will find me. Surely they wouldn’t begrudge me a brief nap while I wait?

  My eyelids close and I feel the darkness rushing up to meet me, promising a reprieve from the pain. All I have to do is let go. Let go and the pain will go away. It sounds so simple. The darkness swirls up around me, healing my wounds one at a time. This darkness isn’t so scary. It’s gentle and warm. It wraps itself around me, like a favorite hoodie on a cold Fall day.

  Jusssst let go. The darkness speaks into my mind like a sensual caress and I relax my fingers, the scythe falling a few inches out of my hand.

  You’re doing so well. Just a little more and you can sleep.

  I want to sleep. I want it really, really badly. I exhale and loosen my grip a little more. The staff of my scythe slips even more and the darkness presses into me.

  Almost there, just let go a little more…

  A little whimper escapes me as I try to unfurl my fingers completely, but they are frozen, unwilling to move on their own. I growl in frustration, clawing at my hand, scraping my nails over the tender skin on the back of my hand, but my fingers refuse to unfurl. The darkness feels increasingly agitated, and it makes me nervous. I try harder and harder; the blood running freely down my hand as I panic. The scythe is so hot now that it’s physically painful to hold it. The runes are burning into my palm and I desperately want to be free, but I can’t.

  Your knife…

  The darkness reminds me of the knives Dmitri had insisted I hide all over my body, and I strain to reach my boot knife. The blood on my hands makes it hard to grip, but on the third try, I manage it. Crowing in triumph, I bring the knife up to my wrist and raise my hand up as high as I can reach.

  STOP! Three voices scream so loudly in my brain that I drop the knife and bring my free hand up to cover my ear. A blast of light so bright it momentarily blinds me fills the cavern. I can’t see anything but white stars behind my eyes and I lose my balance. Pitching forward, I hear a crack and the tree lists forward.

  The darkness laughs in my mind and I know it has won. I have nothing left. With my eyes screwed shut, I let myself go; the wind whips around me as I free-fall into oblivion. Hugging my scythe to my body, I resign myself to whatever game the darkness wants to play.

  A flash of blue flame brightens the darkness and then... Nothing.

  Chapter 8

  Something wet drips steadily on my face. It’s cold and after a few minutes, it is sufficiently annoying enough for me to crack my eyes open to make it stop.

  Opening my eyes proves to be more effort than I expected and by the time I blink enough to clear the blurry vision, I am exhausted again. Everything around me is a deep steely gray, like the color of wet cement. I twitch my nose and the acrid smell of sulfur fills my nostrils, causing me to violently cough and cry out from the pain in my ribs. In small, careful movements, I prop myself up on my elbows enough to look around.

  It’s extremely hot wherever I am. There’s a reddish glow coming from outside my corner. I have a terrible feeling about whatever is making that glow. Looking up, I see a shimmery section of air that looks almost... Ripped. That should mean something to me, but my brain hurts too much to figure it out.

  My scythe is lying next to me and there, on the edge, is a seething, glowing orb. The soul. I caught it?! I would give myself a high-five but literally everything hurts so I decide to just glare at the orb that has broken me. A shimmery golden string is wrapped around the top of my scythe and I pull on it, unraveling it until I have a ball of glowing string in my lap.

  Angelfire… Santos!

  Memories come back and my heart lurches when I realize I can’t feel my mates. The golden string in my hand weaves itself together on its own and I watch in amazement when a small basket appears and then floats by itself over to the soul, hovering patiently as if it’s waiting for me to figure it out.

  Three tries. That’s how many times it takes to stand up. But I do it because I am a death-stick wielding, Grim Reaping, Beta Beta Mu badass. Shuffling over to the golden basket, I reach out to touch it tentatively. The Angelfire is comforting, caressing the injuries on my ha
nd. Listening to my instincts, I place my palm on top of the basket and slowly push it down towards the soul. The orb fights and squirms but I am fresh out of fucks to give and I slam the basket down on it, trapping it. The basket glows brighter and I get the stupid idea in my head that it’s proud of me. Which it isn’t. Because it’s a basket.

  Soul captured, I feel better already and make my way to the edge of the entrance to the little cavern I am in. The closer I get to the edge, the stronger the smell of sulfur and the stronger the waves of heat are.

  What the actual fuck is with this heat?! This is oppressively hot. What did I do, portal myself to the bowels of Hell? I gripe, finally gathering enough strength to fully peek out the door.

  All around me is molten lava and sulfur geysers.

  Bowels of Hell indeed.

  Instead of getting scared, I get mad. I am tired. I am injured. I am exhausted. I am starving. I am melting my bruised, battered skin off. AND, to top it all off, I am worried sick about my mates.

  I’m not in the mood for Hell. It’s literally a not today, Satan moment.

  Stomping over to my scythe, I pick it up and am gratified when it hums in approval at me. Good. That will make this easier.

  My brain is still fuzzy, but Dmitri’s instructions come clearly into my brain.

  Visualize where you want to be, zvezda. Make sure it’s clear. Then you pull on your power and let it fly.

  Right. Simple enough. I can do this.

  I try to imagine the Command Center next to Hades’ office. I have been there once before. I add as many details as I can. My scythe seems excited and I feel the power coursing through us both. Once my visualization is as complete as I can make it, I add each of my mates to the picture. I envision each of their bonds as anchors and I call upon whatever power my Archangel father and my Demeter-descended mother, have given me. It takes a minute but the familiar hook in my gut starts and then, for hopefully the last time today, I disappear.

  When my feet land on a hard surface, I feel elation and I do a little dance, opening my eyes a crack before widening them to take in my surroundings.

  There’s a moment of pure silence as I look around, a room full of demons staring at me in shock.

  “Where the FUCK have you been?” A shrill voice breaks the silence and chaos erupts. I turn around and almost step on my cousin Melinoe as she launches herself at me. Her relief is palpable and I’m touched that she cares this much. An absurdly attractive man with an amazing set of curled horns touches her back and draws her attention for a moment. “I’ve sent Bones to bring the mates. They’ll be here soon.” Her face softens, and she nods at him. At my raised eyebrow, she rolls her eyes. “Uh, so that’s my husband Oz.”

  “You’re MARRIED?!” I shriek, uncaring that Melinoe’s marital status is literally the least important thing at this moment.

  I don’t get the chance to interrogate her further because I am abruptly pulled from her arms and buried against a very warm, very hard chest. I inhale deeply and smell wood smoke and leather. Dmitri. Soothingly cool hands stroke my hair and something else plunges my shoulder into icy water. Mates.

  My brain is too tired to process the barrage of questions they send into our bonds. I just want them. The longer they hold me, the better I feel. Santos creates a private cocoon for us with his wings, and I finally get a chance to see each of them. They look like hell. Dmitri is covered in soot and a long, angry looking scratch marks his otherwise perfect face. Santos can’t even speak, he keeps dropping kisses on my head and sighing, tears welling up in his dark brown eyes. Thane doesn’t speak either, he just dives back into my subconscious and hugs my soul with all his might.

  At this moment, everything is perfect. I close my eyes and let my forehead rest against Dmitri’s broad chest. I could stay here forever. As soon as I drift off, I remember our mission.

  “What day is it? Did we make it in time?” My panicked questions come out rapid fire and I scramble to find my scythe again.

  “It’s October 31. You did it, zvezda. The imps will take that soul down to processing before the clock strikes midnight and your soul debt is repaid.” Dmitri brushes my tangled hair away from my face and rubs his thumb over my bottom lip.

  “Ahem, if I may interrupt,” A new voice booms over all the noise and everything quiets immediately.

  Santos opens his wings and I step out on wobbly feet to come face to face with my Uncle Des. My captured soul is swimming around in its Angelfire cage with increasing anxiety, as Des examines it.

  “Yes, my dear niece, your soul debt is repaid in full. But more than that, I must commend you on this soul that you have brought to us. Do you know who this is?”

  I shrug at him. “It’s the first soul I’ve ever seen, and I didn’t really take any time to introduce myself. I just whacked the shit out of it and hoped for the best.”

  Des smiles widely and titters of laughter echo throughout the Command Center.

  “Well, niece. If you can snag the soul of a rogue Caesar on your first trip to the in-between without your complete powers, perhaps I should assign you to the in-between as your own territory! This soul has evaded my Reapers for millennia. You have done well.”

  A small sense of pride fills me, and I preen a little under the praise. But the memory of the seductive power of the darkness comes back to me.

  “The Darkness almost got me, though. I gave up. My scythe wouldn’t let me and I can’t be sure, but I am pretty sure my mates saved me. I ended up falling through to some weird cave in the middle of a lava pit. Yours, I’m assuming.” I look down at my feet.

  When I look up, Des is contemplating me. “How did you escape my lava fields?”

  I glance back at Dmitri and give him a brief smile. “I shifted! I followed my training exactly and then I added my matesbonds as anchors and here I am!”

  “You shifted out of my lava fields? To the Inner Sanctum of my home?” Des sounds a little scary and I see a horde of those nerd-demons muttering among themselves. Clipboards are coming out and I suddenly feel extra tired. I don’t have the energy for a debrief.

  “Yep. I think that’s where the rip dropped me. I dunno. I’m exhausted. Can we discuss this again in a few days?”

  Aunt Perri steps forward and gives me a warm hug.

  “Of course. Come to dinner on Sunday. All four of you. We can talk business then.”

  Looking me over with a critical eye, she snaps her fingers at one of the nerd-demons and he bows low before presenting her with a vial of blue liquid.

  “Drink this, my darling. Let’s get you cleaned up. You are welcome to stay here tonight, we have plenty of room.”

  It’s a mark of how tired I am that I don’t even fucking care what my Aunt gave me. I just toss the shot back like a pro, smacking my lips when I return the glass to her. My insides feel very wobbly and Santos reaches out to steady me. Everything itches intensely and then.. Nothing. I look down at my hands in wonder. My injuries have healed and I feel super perky and energetic.

  “Did you say it’s October 31st?” I ask suddenly, turning to Santos with a hopeful expression on my face.

  “It is,” he answers carefully.

  I bounce a little more and turn to my cousin. “Mel, I need to borrow a dress.”

  She grins at me and helps me off the chair I have been standing on. When we walk through the crowds, the demons part for us. My mates follow closely behind and we find ourselves in the private living area of Underworld Royalty.

  “What’s the occasion? Formal event? BDSM club? Seduction plans? Clubbing? Goth bar? I need context.”

  Dmitri and Santos both latch on to the word seduction and eye me with heat in their eyes.

  “I need something that encompasses both Heaven and Hell.”

  Melinoe smirks but nods at me, moving to the closet and throwing dress after dress on the bed until her hands land on a beautiful dip-dyed formal gown.

  The bodice is strapless and a midnight navy blue that slowly bleeds into an oc
ean of inky black and blue. The color became lighter and lighter as it traveled down the skirt, until it faded out completely leaving the bottom of the skirt a pure expanse of white. It’s unlike any dress I’ve ever seen, and I love it instantly. Shooing the boys out of the room, I run my hand over the silky smooth cloth.

  “This is gorgeous. Are you sure I can borrow it?” I ask, unable to take my eyes off the way the ombre colors merge into each other.

  “Cuz, it’s yours. Consider it a gift. And if you want to fuck with your mates, let me imp tailor this to you.”

  I grin and nod, shivering in pleasure when I slide the dress over my skin.

  Sure enough, Mel’s imp comes in armed with scissors, pins and a creative vision. When he’s done, I have a slit cut up to almost my thigh and the whitest part of the skirt has been shredded to look like feathers. While the alterations were being made, Melinoe styled my hair and placed a turquoise-studded crown on top of it all.

  “You look like pure temptation. Where are you going anyway? You better bring your scythe if you want to arrive without being pounced on by your mates out there.”

  I blush at the compliment and twirl in the dress.

  “It feels kind of stupid given everything that’s going on, but it’s Homecoming tonight. I’m taking those three to a college sorority dance party. We’re going to drink cheap booze out of party cups, make out in the shadows, and feel each other up on the dance floor. It’s how I’ve decided to say goodbye to the human part of me. It’s Reaper’s Last Homecoming.”

  Melinoe gives me a big hug. “That’s not stupid at all. I think it sounds like fun. I wish I could go! I never got to do the college thing. I was born knowing my destiny and there was never any other option.”

  I smile at my reflection one more time and then I move towards the door. It’s time to get my dates and go to a dance.

  I imagine their faces when they step inside and realize the theme is Heaven and Hell. The image of Santos in his full robe and wings and Dmitri in his black smoldering suit walking in with me makes me drool a little. Not to be outdone, Thane gives me a squeeze from where he is nestled next to my soul, promising me delicious torture mind and soul while my corporeal mates dance me around the room. It sounds like the perfect way to end an adventure.