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Elements of Mischief (Hijinks Harem Book 1)

Page 31

by C. M. Stunich


  Without a second thought, I redirected the trajectory of my magic and slammed the undead elemental with it, bending him to my will. I forced so much of my will into stopping the zombified dragon, it felt as though I was wearing him like a sock puppet.

  When I willed him to back the fuck up and sit politely, he did.

  Gasping from the exertion of will, I mentally severed the ties that held Kuntemopharn's will to Daniel's and the second I did that, the putrid, rotting elemental slumped like someone had just hit his off switch.

  Thank fuck for that. Hopefully it was permanent.

  My bio dad's maniacal laughter brought my focus back to him. He was still gripping me by the neck, but the look on his face was pure glee. Too late I realized that by using my magic on Kuntemopharn, I had all but handed it to bio Dad on a silver fucking platter.

  “Thank you, dear,” he said with a sharp grin. “This would've taken forever without that little push from your end. I had no idea you were so willing to help our cause.”

  “Fuck you,” I snarled, or … tried to snarl. I was getting the shit choked out of me so it came out as more of a strangled squeak and croak. Stupid, Ari.

  “It's a shame you didn't want to cooperate, you know,” Daniel mused, easing the pressure a little on my throat as I sucked greedy gasps of air into my burning lungs. As if it weren't bad enough that he was tearing my magic from my soul, did he really have to strangle me to death with his bare hands too? Seemed a bit overkill.

  From the level of pain I was experiencing from my magic being forcefully stolen, I doubted I would live through the process anyway. My whole body felt as though it had been dipped in acid. Every nerve ending was screaming and crying for mercy, but none came.

  “It's not too late to change your mind, you know?” Daniel offered, his eyes gleaming with greed and power. Now that he had a taste for my magic, he was doubtless thinking of how he could keep it on tap to use again and again.

  “Fuck yourself,” I coughed, then mustered up what little saliva I had left and spat it in his face. Seriously though, I would rather die than let him do this to me on a regular basis, and god only knew what he planned to do to the human race with all this power at his disposal.

  At my response, his face twisted in a snarl of rage and his fingers tightened once more around my throat, this time cutting off my air altogether. Fantastic. I had maybe a minute, max, before I passed out and another three after that before I'd be dead for good. Where the hell was my guardian ghost when I needed her? Or really, what fucking use was she anyway?

  From the corner of my eye I could see my guys still deeply entrenched in battles of their own. Even without Kuntemopharn, they were still outnumbered.

  Desperation clawed at me and panic rose from my gut. I couldn't let this deranged fuckface kill me like this! If I died, so too would they, and they didn't deserve that. Yes, they'd tricked me into this supernatural marriage, but they didn't force me to care for them. That was happening all of its own accord, whether I thought was a good idea or not.

  Seeing Grams suddenly appear over Daniel's shoulder, a rush of hope speared through me. Had she come to help? What could she do though, as a ghost? No one else could see her or hear her, and it wasn't like she could pick up a frying pan and bash this wanker's head in with it. No, I was still screwed six ways to Sunday, and this time not in a fun way.

  “Hold tight, Duckie,” Grams whispered, “help is coming. Just a few more moments. Breathing is overrated anyway, right?” She chuckled at her own terrible joke and I wanted to fucking kill her. Bring her back from the dead, and kill her.

  I so didn’t feel sorry for her dying with a hairy chin; she deserved eternal chin hairs.

  I dug deep and tried to find that spark inside of me that would let me go elemental, fade away from the world and crawl out of the sperm donor’s clutches. But I had nothing left, and yet it still felt like Daniel was pulling energy from me.

  The boys.

  Daniel was draining them through me, his fingers tipped with dragon's claws.

  As his nails dug into my neck, spilling blood, hot and metallic down the sides of my throat, I saw his green eyes widen, almost imperceptibly. Deep down, I felt an answering twinge, like the man was plucking each one of the metaphorical strings that tied me to my men: a rush of flame for Billy, cool air against my face for Shane, the soft kiss of green things for George, warm water for Billy, an electric charge for Warden.

  And something else.

  Daniel plucked at this thread, teased at it with his magic, digging so deeply into me that it felt like an assault. Screams tore from my throat, escaping in low, ragged, breathy squeaks. I couldn’t even yell properly by that point.

  “Blossom!” George shouted, and I felt the tree roots around my arms loosen, flowers blooming along the stalks and bursting open in bright sprays of color. Yellow pollen sifted from them with a little help from a supernatural breeze and went straight into Daniel’s face, making him scream and retract his claws, nails gouging at his own face.

  I had just enough slack to pull my arms free, rolling onto my belly and then struggling up to my knees.

  “I’ve got you,” Billy said, grabbing my hand and yanking me up and into his arms, enfolding me in his embrace and blocking this terrifying wave of silver, like a tsunami made of steel, with an answering wall of flame. The silver melted and splattered across the lawn in hot, round balls, glistening and reeking like a smithy’s workshop. “Stay away from her,” he warned me—although it was pretty obvious I didn’t want to get too close, “if she touches you, she can leach metals from your body.”

  Hey, I was a barista, not a chemist, but that sounded like pretty bad news to me. Drain all the iron from a person’s body—they’ll pass out and then die.

  My eyes locked onto the silver dragon, the one I’d seen at Charlie’s house, before flicking back to Daniel. We might’ve been powerful overall, but we were tired, and I was new at this, and Daniel had seriously drained the hell out of me. I felt like I could barely stand. Beyond that, we were still outnumbered.

  As I watched, Shane and Reg tag teamed—and not in a sexy way—one of the other women, the one I’d seen before with the bloody lips. Watching her wield flame like she was draping streamers at a children’s party, it wasn’t difficult to determine her element.

  On the other side of the drive, George was huddled over Warden’s body. Either he’d passed out from using too much energy or else … god, if he died I’d have a regret in my heart that would fester and putrefy. I’d never live down the mistakes I’d made with him.

  “Watch out!” I shouted, feeling this sudden pull like I was yanking energy away from the earth itself. The shimmering pink dragon, the pretty one with all the flowers, had literally launched her tongue at George, wrapping it around his neck and yanking him away from Warden with a sharp snapping sound that frightened me to my core.

  With a wave of my hand, I sent the strangely dried and shriveled fruit trees shooting out of the ground and crashing into the earth elemental’s side, pinning her to the ground with a shriek that echoed around the neighborhood and made my ears ring.

  Before I could think too hard about what I’d just done—I think I’d literally stolen the life energy from the trees—Billy was throwing me to the side and just barely saving me from getting myself railroaded by Daniel, once again back in his dragon form.

  He hit the ground on the other side of me, claws scrabbling desperately on the lawn as he made a whiplike turn with the aubergine sleekness of his body and came barreling straight back. Billy tried to cut him off by shifting and throwing the flaming heat of his body between us.

  A navy blue dragon that shivered and glowed, the surface of its scaly hide like stars reflecting off the dark surface of the sea, swung its tail around and connected with Billy’s side, sending a rush of white steam in the air as a snarl ripped from his throat. He took off after her with the force of a semi, but it didn’t matter—water trumps fire, right? As soon as they c
onnected, he physically had the advantage, but I could feel his pain as if it were my own.

  Reg was right there by my side as I stood in front of Warden and tried to use my powers to shift, but then I saw the stricken look on Reg’s face …

  “You fucking son of a bitch!” he screamed, shaking Max/Warden by the shoulders. “You shouldn’t have tried to help, you stupid asshole.”

  Tears were streaming down his face, big fat wet tears.

  And Reg … he didn’t exactly seem like the type to cry over nothing.

  Time seemed to slow around me as I dropped to my knees, vaguely aware that Shane had just grabbed Daniel in silver-blue claws and chucked him against the side of the boys’ van, knocking the entire thing over with a screech of metal on concrete.

  “Maxi Pad?” I asked, sniffling as I reached out and touched the very still side of this throat. He was alive at that point, but fading fast. I could feel him, draining out of me like the blood still leaking from my throat. Daniel had started with Warden first—and I was losing him. I was going to lose him. “Come on, Maxi Pad,” I whispered, hoping his college nickname would bring some sort of response, enough recognition for him to fight.

  “Duckie,” Gram said softly, appearing near the edge of the house, looking at me like she was starting the mourning process in my stead. “Just hold on a little longer … Help is on the way.”

  I ignored her.

  Help was on the way? Help would come too late for Warden.

  I looked up at Reg, standing up and shifting back into his dragon form, getting ready to protect me … and the comatose body at my feet. But it wasn’t me that needed protecting—it was the people around me. Sure, they were weird pseudo nymphomaniac plumbers, but … they were my weird pseudo nymphomaniac plumbers.

  I had to save them. And I had to make things right with Warden.

  The runes flared on my skin as I straddled his still warm body and put my hands on either side of his face, palms pressing into his cheeks. Digging deep, I looked for energy that wasn’t really there anymore, that’d been drained right out of me, and then I went down, even further into this shimmering pool that I knew was me. That was my essence.

  Looking at it like this, I could see the small ethereal strands that led to each of the guys.

  There were … more than fucking five of them.

  Good lord, there were six.

  Taking a deep breath, I pushed back that particular revelation for later and wondered if, like in a plumbing situation, I could cut the pipes and seal them off somehow. Cut my energy off the from the men so that Daniel couldn’t get them … and so I could save Warden.

  All around me, I heard and felt the rise and fall of energy, the smattering of blood, a scream of rage, but I pushed it all back, ignored it, made myself concentrate.

  Looking more closely at the sixth string attached to my aura, I saw that it was almost … frozen. The way my mind perceived the connection showed me a piece of glimmering twine, its end dipped into a silver pool. But part of the twine was frozen solid and none of that glowing shifting energy was sliding up its length like it was with the other men.

  That was it.

  That’s how I’d cut them off.

  Starting with Shane, I mentally took hold of our connection … and I shut it down. Pulling energy from what little I had left (that I’d stolen from the poor honey crisp apple trees—sorry!), I slicked that silver energy up the shaft (go ahead and make your sex jokes here) and then imagined it crystallizing, shutting down, freezing.

  As soon as I did, I felt that loss of connection to Shane and it fucking killed me. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted it until it was gone …

  But as I worked my way through the other men, I could see Warden slipping away from me, his connection fading, disappearing into the dark recesses of my mind.

  I finished the rest of the boys as quick as I could and then stopped, holding an image of Max in my head, his face smiling down at me as his body thrust inside, that explosive burst of feeling toward him, that love. Grabbing every last drop I had in my pool, I pushed all of my energy up and into Warden’s connection.

  My eyes snapped open and my body slumped to the side like I’d been shot, crumpling to the lawn next to Warden. I had just enough energy left to reach out and touch the side of his throat, feel the hopping beat of his pulse.

  Thank god, I thought as my lids felt heavy, blood pooling around my face, staining my mouth. He’ll be okay; he’ll be alright.

  “Useless fumblin’ Dublin,” I heard muttered over one shoulder and then a gnarled hand was coming to rest on the side of my head. “Drink up, why don’t you? I owe your gram one favor and this is it. Last time I ever bargain with a bloody witch.”

  As soon as those wrinkled old fingers touched my cheek, my body reacted on instinct, sucking spiritual energy from the old faerie woman like she was an endless well, filling up that empty pool and reviving me like I’d just been stabbed with a shot of adrenaline.

  With a gasp, I sat up, shaking and panting, heart thundering so loud I felt like the whole neighborhood might be able to hear it.

  “Bloody redcoats,” Alberta O'Sullivan scowled, spreading her thin, webbed wings out behind her. “Never much liked them lobsterbacks anyway,” she continued, giving my bio dad a look. I had no idea if he were English or not, but oh well—if old Mrs. O'Sullivan wanted to be a racist prick for a second and save my life, I guess I’d take it.

  Drawing a sigil in the air, she created a rune that shimmered and then floated to the ground, sealing itself there like it’d been spray painted onto the lawn. As soon as Daniel touched it, tossing Shane aside and making a bee line for me, it activated and lit the entire neighborhood up with its glow.

  A violent scream exploded from the dragon’s throat as dark arms of energy shot up from the rune, gnarled hands the color of oil with grasping yellow claws tore at his flesh, shredding ribbons of skin and spattering the yard with blood.

  My, er, moms didn’t waste a second in abandoning their other fights and rushing to his aid. I took that split second to take inventory—Shane, Billy, Reg … and George. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw him slump against the wall, rubbing at his neck with one hand and folding his other arm across his ribs. He might be hurt, but he was alive.

  I stood up, glancing back down as Warden groaned and struggled into a sitting position.

  “Shit on a motherfucking sunbeam,” he whispered, looking up watching with wide hazel eyes as the whatever the fuck those creatures were tore literal hunks of flesh from the female dragons as they tried to save their mate. Sexist prick.

  It only took a few moments, but they managed to get him out, oozing puddles of blood and stinking the air up with that awful copper scent that churned my stomach. As soon as they left the radius of the rune, it closed up, sinking into the ground like it’d never been.

  But the damage had been done.

  They were in no shape to keep fighting.

  “Fucking teabaggers,” Alberta said, wiping her hands on the front of her knitted shawl and then tottering down to the end of the yard to dig through the trash cans. Huh.

  “I’m sorry about the wards, Duckie,” Gram said from my right, “but bargaining with the fae, it’s not a good idea … unless you get the upper hand.”

  Staring openmouthed at the bleeding dragons, I had to hold up a hand to keep Billy from going after them.

  “Don’t,” I said as one of the women picked up Daniel—hey, no sexism here!—and carried him to an SUV on the opposite side of the street. They were hurt, but I was also just barely recovered myself. Alberta had given me a boost of energy, but it was only enough to get me up and standing, not enough to really fight—my connections to the guys were frozen, Warden was still sitting on the ground, George looked like he needed serious medical attention …

  No, we’d have to finish this fight another day.

  Just before he climbed into the back of the SUV though, Daniel looked my way, meeting my eyes from acr
oss the street … and then he smirked at me.

  My heart started to pound inside my chest and I felt this … twinge, like claws plucking at a string.

  I touched my palm to the base of my throat, fingers smearing in the blood, and I tried not to have a panic attack.

  “You okay, ST?” Reg asked, pausing to give the dumpster-diving old faerie a look before turning to me.

  “Define okay,” I said as I looked back and saw … that Warden was gone again. That motherfucker … I turned back to the dead trees on the lawn, the uprooted mounds of earth, the blood soaked grass … “There’s another one,” I said, feeling like I wanted to scream and laugh and cry … okay, maybe not cry because you know, that just wasn’t my thing. “There’s another one of us—a metal elemental.”

  The other boys slowly made their way over to me, the only sounds on the street their labored breathing and the clatter of Alberta digging through old tin cans and liquor bottles.

  “Honeycomb?” Shane asked, looking a little green around the gills. Guess he wasn’t so much into getting another husband either. I could barely even fathom Warden’s existence let alone some mystery dude.

  “There’s another guy out there,” I said, suddenly so scared for him that I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know him, but I knew they’d be after him—bio dad and his polygamist cult, the incubi and succubi, and whoever else was planning on participating in this stupid war of his. “And Daniel’s going after him.”

  “I might have an idea,” I heard a voice say from behind me, whipping around to find Siobhan standing there with her orange curls in disarray, makeup smeared, holding an overnight bag in one hand and a pair of high heels in the other. The expression on her face said it all—something bad had happened to her, something that must be connected to me or else she wouldn’t be standing here in upstate New York (she considered the countryside a useless waste of space unless it involved growing organic shit for her to buy at expensive NYC restaurants).

 

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