Held by Magic: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Demon's Fae Book 1)

by LJ Swallow

  I'm held in place, but not by surprise. My legs won’t move me further into the room. Something bright on the floor catches my eye—a runic circle glows at my feet. "What the fuck?"

  I attempt to step over the pattern but a sharp pain hits my foot, shooting through my leg like a sudden, agonising toothache. I swear again and step back into the circle. The door slams closed behind me, hit by an invisible force.

  "I apologise for the entrapment. I can't be too careful." The man’s voice is husky, as if not used often, and I detect a hint of a European accent. German? Maybe.

  I point the dagger in his direction. "Correct. Have you heard that I'm fairly quick with this if I'm threatened?"

  He rests back against the velvet chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin. "It's not your weapon skills I'm concerned about."

  "Where's Dana?"

  "She decided to take a short vacation." His smile tightens. "Of sorts."

  His glittering eyes trip fear along my spine. Leave. Now. Whoever this dude is, he's not someone I want to take on. Not after my experiences in the last few days.

  "Oh, okay. Well, tell her I visited. Sorry to disturb you." I try to back off but the runes behind hit me again and I’m halted by the shooting pain in my ankle.

  "You know what's amusing here?" he continues. "I knew I could count on you coming to find Dana when you couldn’t locate the bones, but I didn't expect you to bring someone with you. Especially a man you shouldn't trust."

  Fear crawls into my stomach. "Why shouldn't I trust him?"

  "Well, you have no idea who Dex is or where he came from, do you?" He places fingers on his chest. "Dex could be working for me."

  No. Way. But doubt niggles. Every time I fall for someone’s spiel I end up in a mess—is Dex playing me? "And who are you?"

  "I’d rather not give my name." He licks his lips and his eyes travel the length of me. "I wanted to meet the famous Syv."

  Famous? Yeah, right. "How did you know I’d come here tonight?"

  He shrugs. "I didn’t. But I knew you’d appear sooner or later once you discovered there’s no cure." He waves a hand around the room. "These are comfortable surroundings. Dana wasn’t enthusiastic about me staying for a night or two though, so she had to leave."

  "You could've called instead. I have a phone number—plenty of dodgy people like you pass it around," I say sarcastically.

  He barks a laugh.

  "I came here to ask Dana what the fuck is going on. Now I'm asking you the same question."

  My palm slicks around the dagger as the cloying air around fills my lungs. No. This is more than the scent. This magic surrounds him. The room. Us.

  The man sweeps his knee as if removing dust and lifts his eyes to mine. "I’m not here to harm you."

  I wave my hand at the symbols surrounding me on the floor. "Then what the hell is this?"

  "I was told to examine you."

  "Uh. What?" I attempt to back off again but as soon as the symbols on the floor touch my leg the shooting pain stops me. "Told by who? Nobody is examining me."

  He stands and approaches. The guy’s height matches mine and I look back into inky, demon eyes.

  "Show me your arm." I blink in confusion. "Your mark, Syv."

  "No." I place the arm with the mark behind my back and brandish my dagger at him.

  He sneers. "You can’t fight me. You can't do anything alone anymore, can you? Always hiding behind your bravado and sarcasm. Pretending you're strong."

  "I am strong." I clench my teeth. "Maybe not against magic, but I can try."

  The man rubs a hand across his mouth and studies me in silence. I keep my dagger in full view in case he steps any closer. But this guy stinks of demon magic, and I’d prefer to keep away from that, following recent experiences.

  "Call for your friend downstairs," he whispers. "Maybe he can help."

  "The guy you implied is working for you? No way."

  He smiles. "But if he isn’t?"

  "I can manage on my own," I growl.

  He leans forward and I snap my head back as he sniffs me. "You have an alcohol problem, don't you?" The nameless man crosses his arms. "You numb yourself. Ignore what seethes inside you, because you're scared of yourself."

  "No."

  "But you don't know what you're scared of. You don't remember, do you?"

  I clench my teeth. I drink because I enjoy the drugged sensation. My search for things to obliterate stress attracted me to Bastian and his magic. I chase highs and with them come a numbness that helps smooth out my days.

  "Okay, I need to wind down sometimes. Side effect of my job. Now I have this mark, I really need a bloody drink."

  "I won’t touch you, Syvonne. Let me see the mark and I’ll leave." He beckons with one hand.

  What do I do? Is he lying? I bet he bloody is, but what choice do I have? "Fine. Take a look, but don’t touch me. And unless this vague story you're telling me can help remove the mark, I'd like to leave." I yank my sleeve up.

  He scratches a brow, peers at the death mark then lifts his eyes to mine and smiles. "Thank you. That wasn’t hard, was it?"

  I narrow my eyes at his condescending tone. "Remove the circle and let me leave."

  "You could wait for your friend to come upstairs if you believe he’s genuine," purrs the man. "But I understand if you don’t call for him. You don't want rescuing again, do you? The little damsel in distress doesn’t need her big strong man. How many times have your new associates rescued you now? Three." He makes a tsk noise. "I bet that annoys you."

  "I’m not a damsel in distress. Ever."

  "Are you sure?" I recoil as the guy touches my head with his fingertips. "Who took your memories? Do you remember?" He chuckles. "Sorry, that was a dumb thing to say."

  I blink. I don't believe him, and now I'm unsure I believe anything. This whole situation. The guys. The mark. The set ups.

  Dread washes over me as strongly as the magic begins to fog my brain. "You. You did this." I shake my head. "You work with whoever put the mark on me. You sent the demons to the cemetery."

  "My employer has requested I place the mark on a few people. He’s looking for the right person and suspects she’s you, Syvonne."

  My mouth dries and my palms slick further. "Right person for what? Stealing something? Do you want this box too?"

  He pokes me in the chest. "How has someone like you, half-human, stayed alive? How have you matched the strength and magic of assailants with just a weapon? Do you know what gives you your strength, Syv?"

  My dagger flies from my hand and the point slams into the wall opposite, leaving me feeling naked without it.

  I squeeze my eyes closed and rub my head, my thoughts torn in two directions. I'm not frightened— I’m curious. I’m drawn to this guy and his story, but another part tells me to run the hell away.

  My thoughts whisper something I don’t want to hear: is this man connected to Verin? Am I?

  He points at my arm. "If you’re not the girl he wants, that mark will kill you, as it did all the other girls. But your mark hasn’t grown."

  "The mark won’t kill me, because I’ll find a cure. Dana might have lied to me, but I will figure out a cure for this."

  He sneers. "There are no nephilim bones. There is no cure. This mark kills everybody but one person. You."

  "Which means?" I snap.

  He rubs his chin and flicks a gaze the length of me. "Maybe you should come with me after all. Since you’re curious."

  "Yeah, that’s a no."

  The man lifts his head as footsteps thunder up the stairs. "Oh, good. He’s here."

  Splintered wood hits the back of my head as Dex crashes through the door. I'm kicked to the floor by two huge paws as he lands on my back. The runes burn my hands where my fingers land on them, and I scream out at him. I can’t move—he weighs more than two men. "Get off me!"

  He moves and I twist onto my back, but Dex’s paws pin my shoulders. The eyes I looked into on the bus stare down at
me, the orange flecks sparked into fiery rims as they lock with mine for a moment. I scream out again, terror flooding my system as his mouth gapes and teeth bare.

  Creepy dude is right.

  Dex works for him.

  I snatch my dagger from the floor and swipe as his muzzle moves closer. The blade slashes his skin, but Dex doesn’t respond. Hot breath and frightening teeth move toward me, and I close my eyes and brace myself for pain, then gasp as I'm tugged violently forward. My hoodie rips as Dex pulls me along the floor, across the runes, and pain tears though my skin as if he's dragging me through glass. I lash out, hitting Dex around the face.

  In the background, the guy laughs. "He's helping you, stupid girl."

  Gasping for breath, eyes watering through the agony, I stop struggling and allow Dex to pull me further through the doorway.

  Dex drops his grip and I scramble to sit. He crouches back, coiling his muscles, then leaps over my head. The chair the guy sat in crashes to the ground and Dex’s snarls are met by laughter. Dex lunges at the man then yelps as he’s tossed across the room onto the broken table. One of Dex’s back legs hits a smaller table and the burning candle falls.

  The rug ignites as I grow dizzy.

  More voices sound from below. Calling my name.

  Footsteps.

  Cillian stands wide-eyed in the doorway. Morgan a head behind, both staring at Dex in panic. I snap my head back round. Why is the room quiet?

  The man has disappeared, leaving an unconscious Dex and flames licking his paws. Ice lances from Cillian's fingers, freezing the rug where the candle fell. I sink onto my back and stare up at them.

  "Where the hell did you come from?"

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I sit in the building’s back doorway, on the step, shaking. The dark house is still and quiet now. Cillian crouches down and hands me my dagger. "Are you okay?"

  I nod then tuck the weapon into my jacket with muttered thanks. He strokes my hair and stands as Morgan appears with a limping dog. Dex’s muzzle bleeds where I slashed at him, and he looks straight at me. I can imagine the argument we’ll have once he’s Dex again.

  "Isn't Spot shifting back?" I ask.

  "Dex. And no. Not unless you want him walking naked through the streets." Cillian holds up a bundle of shredded clothes. "He wasn’t planning on shifting. Again."

  "Yeah, well, if he walks through the streets looking like that I'm damn sure he'll draw as much attention." I jab a finger at the demonic hound. "Morgan, can you open a portal?"

  He shakes his head. "No ley lines near here. I thought there might be since we're near a warlock's place, but they must channel magic from elsewhere."

  "Shit." I look at Dex. "I was okay until Spot attacked me."

  Dex looks up and growls.

  "Who was the guy?" asks Cillian.

  "I don’t know," I retort. "I was dealing with the situation; I would’ve found out."

  "Or he could have abducted or killed you."

  "Or both," puts in Morgan.

  "Did he phone you and tell you to come here?" I point at Dex and narrow my eyes. "Did you?"

  Yeah, look at me talking to Dex like he can reply. I should’ve bloody suspected why he wanted to wait behind for a few minutes: it was ‘phone a friend’ time.

  "Of course, he did. You were insane going into a warlock’s place in the middle of the night. You had no idea what you were facing."

  "I would've been okay. Dex was with me. I only wanted to talk to Dana." I pull at my ripped hoodie and the skin on my back stings as the fabric moves across. "I can’t believe Dex called you. How did you arrive this quick?"

  Cillian nods at Dex. "He followed you; we followed him."

  "Not my favourite way to spend the night, especially after the evening we just had." Morgan touches his face to emphasise what he means.

  "You’re not that badly hurt," retorts Cillian. "You can walk."

  I snap my head up to catch Morgan glower at his friend. "Why bother helping anyway? I thought I was too much trouble?"

  Cillian pushes at Morgan who mumbles, "Sorry."

  I widen my eyes. "Sorry?"

  "I kinda lost my shit after the attack at the cemetery."

  "And you didn’t respond well, Syv. You’re both to blame." I burst out laughing at Cillian’s words. "What?"

  "You sound like you’re our dad."

  Both guys fight smiles.

  "I’m a peacemaker," he says.

  Morgan’s smile grows. "He thinks he’s the boss, but I doubt he ever will be."

  Cillian nudges me. "I’d have no chance of bossing you, if you came back. You’d keep us all in check."

  I meet Morgan’s eyes and he nods. "I mean it, I’m sorry. I think we can help each other."

  "With our business arrangement?"

  Morgan holds a hand out to shake and I take hold. His fingers curl tight around mine and he tugs me towards him.

  "If you want to keep things business-like, but I don’t want to miss out on being part of Syv’s harem," he whispers. "So, I need to keep her alive."

  "You mean you need my skills?"

  Our fingers remain locked together and Morgan grazes his lip with his teeth. "I don’t think I’ve seen all the interesting ones yet."

  "Are you trying to use your smoulder skill to persuade me to come back to the Institute with you?" I laugh at him.

  He releases my hand and his eyes shine. "Maybe. Look, I’m sorry. Let’s try again."

  Dex gives a low whine and paws at the ground. I catch his meaning. "Can we just leave now? Do you have a car?"

  Keys jingle in Cillian's hands as he pulls them from his pocket. "Yeah, we parked two streets away. Trying to stay inconspicuous." He steps over me. "I'll go and fetch the car."

  "I don't want to wait here. I'll come. Morgan can stay with Spot in case someone else appears."

  Dex growls at me again and I snicker at him. As I head along the side of the house with Cillian, he scolds me. "Don't tease Dex. He's a sensitive guy."

  I'm about to retort but Cillian's words are true. From what Dex has hinted about his earlier life, there's a vulnerability hidden behind the large, sometimes-canine, dude. "Sorry. He pissed me off charging in like that. I told him to wait until I called."

  "You know he's protective of you." Our footsteps echo along the quiet street and we pass the bus stop. "We all are."

  I halt and look at him. "Kicking me out of your team isn't very protective."

  "We didn't kick you out. There were things we needed to straighten out. Do you usually run from conflict like that?"

  "Yes, if I think shit might threaten my life, I leave."

  Cillian shakes his head and the soft sadness crosses his face again. He places both hands on the top of my arms and holds me to look him in the face. "We're no threat to you. You're important to us."

  "Because I complement your skills?"

  "Because you deserve to live a life as part of something and not on the edge. You fit in with us."

  I shrug him off and keep walking. I've spent time around misfits before, and people always have their own agendas. They never care and I'm a steppingstone to achieving their goals. I chew on my lip as I walk away. Apart from Col—he never stepped on me to push me below the water on his journey to what he wants. Is it possible others could see I’m worth more and care for me?

  We find Cillian’s Land Rover and drive to the Collector's place without any issues, apart from the size and smell of Dex. Worried I'll upset him, I subtly cover my nose with my ripped hoodie sleeve and look out the window. He doesn't smell ‘dog bad’ but has a sulphur scent that turns my stomach. He spends the journey crouched on the seat, but that doesn't hide his bulk from the passenger window.

  The Victorian house always stands out in its corner beside the heath; Col lives on a suburban street, but not as part of one.

  The building is set back and private behind the low metal fence. Front gardens with tall trees hide the building’s facade.

 
; I step out the car and shiver in the breeze. Lights shine through the curtains in the lounge room I sat in earlier, but the windows upstairs are dark. Is Col awake? How will he react to my guests? I gesture at Cillian to lower the driver's window.

  I lean in and glance into the back. "I think you should bring Dex inside. He's bleeding all over your seats, and we're a long way from the Institute."

  Morgan stares at Col’s house. "Do you think we'll be welcome? I’ve heard how powerful this fae is."

  "No. Not at all welcome." I laugh. "Especially as I told Col what dickheads you've been to me."

  "Oh. Nice." Cillian kills the engine and climbs out. "Thanks for that, Syv."

  "Dex should wait here until we’ve spoken to your friend," says Morgan. "Do you know how he’ll react to him as Spot?"

  "I honestly don’t know. But good point. We’d shouldn’t march up to the door with a demonic dog in tow." I crane my head. "Are you okay to wait a few minutes, Dex?"

  Dex rubs at his muzzle with a paw and whines. The blood streaks across his fur and I take a deep breath. Fine, make me feel guilty, Dex.

  Morgan joins me and Cillian outside the car. I fold a hand around the key in my pocket and pad up the garden path. A soft light shines blues and reds through semi-circle stained glass above the front door.

  My two friends move to one side, half-hidden in the shadows. I hesitate with the key held towards the lock. No. I should knock.

  Nothing happens for a few minutes before the door opens wide. Col stands with the light from the house framing his tall figure. He takes up extra space due to his added attitude and important aura as he frowns at me.

  "Why not use your key, Syv?" he asks. Cillian moves closer to me and Col turns his head with a frown as Morgan joins us in the light. "Oh. Who's this?"

  "My friends."

  Col quietly appraises them, taking too long to make the situation comfortable. "These men are an interesting and unusual choice for your bed, Syv."

  "Not for the night," I protest. "I really don't have time and energy for that shit right now."

  Col’s words create a greater awareness of the men flanking me. I have to be totally honest with myself—if I’d randomly met each of these guys in more pleasant circumstances, I’d say yes.