A Harmony of Hearts: Reverse Harem Siren Romance (Spellsinger Book 3)

by Amy Sumida

  And the Beneath breathed a sigh of relief.

  In case I haven't mentioned it before, the Beneath is the community of supernatural citizens who live on Earth. Gods, shapeshifters, and everything in between exists secretly among the humans. No one wants to come out of the paranormal closet; we're all very happy in the dark—and with keeping humans in the dark. Personally, I believe that humans know we're here. On some instinctual level—perhaps in their genetic memories—they know about us. They tell stories and make movies to give those tickling fears a voice, and maybe to mute it a bit. They feel our presence like a hot breath on the back of their necks, and they've learned to enjoy the thrill. But they don't want to be truly scared, and every beneather knows that. Humans try to kill anything that makes them afraid, and although they'd never win against us beneathers, they'd try like hell, and they'd keep trying until they all died out. And we happen to like human culture. Beneathers like things like ice cream, iPods, and the Internet just as much as anyone else. None of us want to exterminate the human race. So, the Beneath was relieved that the humans handled our mess for us.

  What the humans didn't handle—what they couldn't handle—was investigating how this mess happened in the first place and stopping it from happening again. That was on us.

  As soon as the death worms were sent back to where they belonged, I turned to the others and said exactly what they were all thinking: “Someone brought those worms here.”

  As I've already mentioned; there was no beneather alive who would want to bring a monster to Earth and threaten our fragile coexistence. We were the ones who sent them to Torr-Chathair in the first place. Which brought up the question of who would. Who would want to bring the death worms to Earth? To what purpose? And who had enough power to wrangle olgoi khorkhoi without getting themselves killed in the process?

  To find the answers to those questions, Freya, Cerberus, Declan, and I followed the worm destruction (a different kind of wormsign) back to his origins. Olgoi khorkhoi burrowed, so we couldn't see all of their trail, but they surfaced enough to make it easy to pick up. We eventually found a crater-like depression still tingling with the power of their passage from Torr-Chathair, and we searched it for any sign of how the worms had been moved.

  We found only one piece of evidence: the imprint of a man's shoe... or a large woman's shoe. Cerberus placed his size 17 feet down beside the print, and the footprint was just a couple inches smaller. We guessed it to be roughly a men's size 9, which would be around a size 10 for a woman.

  “Can't you sing something that will help us discover who did this?” Cerberus asked me.

  “Sure, she'll just belt out the ballad of 'Finding a Worm-Moving Asshole,'” Freya huffed.

  “It's a fair question.” I waved off her sarcasm. “Let me think a second.”

  Freya's eyes widened, and Cerberus chuckled.

  “She's my best friend, Frey,” Cerberus said, “and we've been working together for years. I know what she's capable of.”

  “Well, I obviously didn't,” Freya remarked without rancor. In fact, she sounded impressed.

  “I haven't done anything yet,” I said as I searched through my playlist.

  “You helped send three death worms back to Torr-Chathair,” Declan said softly. “I think that's something.”

  “And we couldn't have got them there without you, Declan.” I gave him a grateful look. “I'm glad you decided to join me.”

  “I'm glad as well.” Cerberus gave Declan a back slap. “Thanks, dude; I owe you one.”

  “I'm happy to have helped.” Declan beamed at Cer.

  “Okay, I've got something.” I put my earbuds in and stepped forward, away from the others.

  I pressed Play and the lulling, softness of Susie Suh and Robot Koch's “Here With Me” began. I took a deep breath and let the music calm me as my magic rose. My voice moaned out of me; a near-lament, an almost-tragedy—the lyrics sounded sad, but there was also sweetness lying beneath them. A woman looking for something real falls in love by chance. Then that love leaves, but though they're separated, she still feels him—he's still with her. The song resonated with me on so many levels, but I only needed one for my current purpose. So, I pushed away the rising images of Torin's face and focused on the now.

  I used the call of the music to reach out and collect the trail of energy left behind that I couldn't see. I was looking for something which I knew was here already; I just needed another perspective to view it. The gentle cadence latched onto the trail, just a spark in the night, and followed it to its explosive end. The magic echoed around me, reaching out to trail its fingertips over the shoulder of the person... no, the man who had done this. I caught the barest glimpse of pale hair—the light I'd been searching for—and then the vision winked out.

  I sighed and opened my eyes. I hadn't even realized that I'd closed them. I silently wound my earbuds around my iPod and stuck them into the pouch on my belt. I was dressed in a velvet gown, having come directly from Declan's court, but I never went anywhere without my music.

  “Anything?” Declan asked gently.

  “Very little,” I admitted as I turned around. “It's a fair-haired man. That's all I was able to see before the trail died out. I think he may have released the worms and immediately left the realm. The distance was too far for my song to follow.”

  “It's a start,” Cerberus said thoughtfully. “I have a scent too, though it's hard to separate it from the worm musk.”

  “Maybe this was a horrible prank, and this guy learned his lesson,” I suggested.

  They all just stared at me.

  “Yeah, it's a lot to hope for,” I said. “But if he's just getting started, I'm dreading what he does next.”

  Chapter Ten

  “I don't think I can be there,” Banning said softly. “I'm one hundred percent behind you, El, but I can't watch you fall in love with another man.”

  “I understand.” I squeezed his hand and used it to pull him closer for a kiss.

  We were enjoying an early dinner in Alpha, the upscale restaurant in Banning's country club, The Crouching Lion. The sun was just setting, and Banning liked to come up from his subterranean quarters to enjoy the last rays of daylight from the safety of our private dining room. It had a view of the golf course—the prettier bit—and some woodland through a pair of French doors, and our table had one of those curved, bench seats behind it so we could snuggle together. As an older blooder (vampire), Banning could tolerate sunlight, but it was very uncomfortable for him to remain out in for an extended period. Because of this, he ended up living a more traditional blooder lifestyle and slept through most of the day. But that didn't mean he didn't enjoy the sun.

  In fact, there were several things that blooders still enjoyed, despite their requirements. Blooders didn't need to eat normal food (as opposed to blood), but they liked it as much as anyone else. We'd had a full dinner that evening; appetizers, salads, the works. But now Banning pushed away his souffle with a sour expression.

  “That look better not be in response to my kiss,” I teased him.

  “No; I'm worried for you,” he admitted. “Two months isn't a lot of time, especially not to fall in love.”

  “That's why I asked Vivian for help,” I said. “It's going to be all right, Ban.”

  “I can't watch you die again, Elaria,” he whispered. “I'll follow you this time. We can be reborn together.”

  “Banning,” I said firmly, “neither of us is dying. And as far as being reborn together; do you think we would have got together so quickly if you hadn't recognized me?”

  “Maybe not as quickly, but we would have worked it out eventually.”

  “And I might have found this other man before that happened.” I shrugged. “We don't know because we did things our way. I'm content with that, but I don't want to risk another go at it.”

  “Perhaps Declan and I should attend this Ball.” Banning's forest-green eyes lightened and started to glow with his anxiety. “We
should talk to this man and show him that this doesn't have to be awkward or uncomfortable.”

  “I think your first instinct was the right one.” I shook my head. “Let me get to know him first before we drop the multiple-lovers-bomb on him.”

  “That may leave him feeling deceived.” Banning scowled.

  “I'll tell him, just not right off the bat.” I cocked my head at Banning. “How would you feel if you were attracted to a woman, and she immediately told you that she was with two other men, but she needed a third so she wouldn't die?”

  “That might ruin the mood,” he conceded with a huff, and then ran a hand through his shoulder-length, blond hair roughly.

  “If, after I tell him, he wants to speak with you, I will call you in,” I amended gently.

  “Maybe we should go just in case he wants to speak with us immediately,” Banning offered. “We can just stay out of it until we're needed.”

  “Banning, I don't want to put you through that,” I said softly. “I know that I couldn't watch you romance another woman... at least not without tearing her to pieces.”

  “There is that,” he agreed. “The thought of you with another man unsettles me; how could it not? But I'm happy, Elaria. It's far better to share you than not have you at all, and honestly, I feel no jealousy for Declan. This spell has eased my emotions toward him, and I'm sure it will do so after this new man has been included in the magic.”

  “I'm glad you're happy.” I leaned into his side, and he slipped an arm around me. “Relieved, actually.”

  Banning was dressed casually, in a T-shirt and jeans, and as he moved his arm, his shirt sleeve scrunched up. My face stared back at me from his bicep. It was a tattoo of an old portrait of me, back when I was Fortune... and a blooder. Banning's old gheara (blooder leader) killed me, putting into motion a series of events that led him to Kansas, where he became a gheara himself, head of his own gura. Then the European Falca had sent a blooder army after Banning, and Cerberus called me in to help defend his blooder friend. My reborn soul had been drawn back to Banning; in a new world but an identical body.

  And that—in addition to the RS—was why Banning was okay with this situation. His priority has always been me and my continued existence. Mainly, he wanted to keep me alive; his desire to be with me took second place. There was something romantic and honorable about that. Banning loved me enough to let me love someone else. It was a complete opposite to Torin's love for me.

  Torin's alpha-possessiveness was something I had to work through before I could enjoy. Probably because I was so similar to him. Seeing an unwanted trait of my own, in another person, tends to make me hate it in them even more. I know that sounds silly, but it wasn't until Torin explained his possessiveness to me—that it wasn't about owning, but about sharing a love together—that I recognized it in myself and appreciated it in him. Torin made it acceptable, and I was finally able to admit that I was just like him. I understood that kind of love because it was how I loved. I even found it thrilling to be wanted like that.

  But the way Banning loved me was thrilling as well. Not only that, it was humbling. It almost made my love for him feel inadequate by comparison. I know it's not inadequate; love comes in many forms, and we can't change the way we feel it. Which is why I also know that letting Torin go was the right thing to do. He wouldn't accept this, not in time to save my life. And as much as I loved Torin, I wasn't about to die to make him feel like a man. Mama didn't raise a fool.

  I would content myself with the amazing lovers I had, and—at the risk of sounding selfish—focus on gaining another.

  “We'll get through this,” Banning said. “Whatever happens, we'll be all right as long as we stay together.”

  “You are incredibly sexy right now.” I smirked.

  And he was. Those brilliant green eyes with their long, sweeping lashes, were enough to make a woman just sit and stare; frozen in awe. But then you noticed the rest of his face; the nobility in the slope of his nose, the hardness of his jawline that hinted at stubbornness, and the firm lips that were neither too full nor too thin. His brows were dark blond, but his hair was much paler; blooder blond—a golden, gleaming color that looked too perfect to be natural. It's what happens to blond hair after centuries of a body healing itself daily. Then there was Banning's body; the wide shoulders, slim hips, rounded ass, and thick biceps covered in tattoos. I could happily stare at him all night.

  Banning glanced at the closed door and then the darkening sky. I slid out of my seat and went to lock the door before he could change his mind. He had the table pushed out by the time I got back to him and was undoing his belt as he resumed his seat. I smiled wickedly and slipped out of my panties before I straddled his lap. Then I leaned down for a scorching kiss. I could taste the sugar on his lips, and combined with the flavor of the man himself; it was addictive.

  “Someone could walk by outside,” he warned me with a glance at the French doors.

  “Do I look like I care?” I took him in hand and angled him right where I wanted him.

  “You look like heaven on earth,” he whispered. “Come here, my angel.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I was spread out on the plush carpet, Banning's head pillowed on my belly, and our clothes strewn around us, when a knock came at the dining room's door. Banning growled in irritation as he lifted himself. I stretched out an arm to snatch my dress, but Banning shifted down my body and gave me a long, perfectly placed lick before he sat up. My rubbery legs tried to tremble in response to the zing of pleasure, but all they could manage was a rubbery flop. Banning chuckled in satisfaction as he stood and then slipped into his jeans. He waited for me to crawl into my dress and then helped me onto the bench before he opened the door.

  “I'm sorry, Gheara,” Arnold, one of Banning's top blooders, said as he took in Banning's half-dressed state. “But I thought this was important enough to interrupt you.”

  “What is it?” Banning took a sheet of paper from Arnold and scanned it.

  “That message was left on the Lion's main line this afternoon.” Arnold's face looked grim and a little irritated.

  “Fuck him!” Banning snapped.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “My father,” Banning huffed. “Thank you, Arnold. Don't concern yourself with this; I'll handle it.”

  Arnold nodded and left without another word, closing the door quietly behind him. I looked at Banning askance as he joined me on the bench.

  “Sorin still hasn't given up,” Banning was incredulous. “I thought I made myself perfectly clear.”

  “When you nearly slaughtered his entire gura?” I asked. “Yeah; that was about as transparent as it gets.”

  “We did that together,” he said with a purr and gave me a quick kiss.

  “It was quite a thing,” I agreed. “How many blooders does he have left?”

  “I've had reports that he's been calling blooders home to increase the gura back to its former strength.” Banning sighed.

  “Calling blooders home?” I narrowed my eyes. “I don't like the sound of that.”

  “You shouldn't.” He laughed mirthlessly. “It means that he's demanding that blooders who have left the gura return; and a blooder doesn't leave his or her gura until he's strong enough to survive on his own.”

  “So, Sorin is bringing back strong, old blooders,” I murmured. “He can do that?”

  “Under these circumstances, he can,” Banning said. “A depleted gura is vulnerable, and his gura is the first; the other blooders will not allow it to be weak.”

  “I don't suppose he's going to pick one of these badass blooders to be his heir?” I asked without much hope.

  “He won't.” Banning shook his head. “Sorin is too traditional. He'll only pass the gura to a blooder of his line.”

  “Why can't he just make a new one?” I huffed.

  “A new blooder will be too weak to lead. Sorin would have to wait centuries before he could pass the reign to a new son.” Ban
ning rolled his eyes. “And he is not a patient man.”

  “What do you think he's planning?” I asked. “What does the message say?”

  “He's planning to lure me back,” Banning said with narrowed eyes.

  “That again?” I sighed.

  “Those strong blooders he's calling home aren't for him”—Banning waved the paper at me—“they're an incentive for me. He thinks that if he makes the gura powerful enough, it will win me back.”