Guardians of Magic: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (Guardians of the Fae Book 1)

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Guardians of Magic: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (Guardians of the Fae Book 1) Page 4

by Elizabeth Hartwell


  It’s nearly dawn when I open the door to my apartment in New Haven’s Fellowship District, not the best part of town but all my salary can afford. I have to smirk with frustration when my little sister, Alyssa, nearly catapults herself over the aluminum coffee table to roll to her feet.

  “Well, I’m glad to know that at least some of those judo classes I put you through worked,” I greet her, trying to keep my temper. She’s over eighteen. She can stay up until dawn if she wants, even if I don’t want her to.

  “Holy fuck, knock next time?” Alyssa fumes. “Damn near gave me a heart attack.”

  “Are you serious?” I ask as I set my purse down and take out my duty piece to put it in my kitchen safe. “I live here. When you pay the bills, maybe then you can make the rules. By the way, what the hell were you doing?”

  Alyssa picks up her iPad and shuts it off, setting it down on the table. Most likely, she’s been talking to her boyfriend she thinks I don’t know about . . . but if she only knew. Now isn’t the time, though, so I let her keep up the act. “Chill. I’d stayed up late watching some Netflix and was nodding off. You scared me, that’s all. You don’t have to go all Mommy of the Year on me.” She stops, looking over my clothes and hair, lifting an eyebrow. “What the hell happened to you? You look like a three-week-old plate of chitterlings.”

  Ugh, I didn’t need that imagery. “Just an undercover job gone bad. Word in Old Haven is that the vamps are doing some trafficking.”

  It’s not protocol. In fact, I’m breaking department rules by talking about an active case with anyone, even family. But Alyssa’s always been my rock even if she is young, the person who listened when the rest of the world said they didn’t give two shits about the both of us. I’ve been a mother as well as a big sister to her, so it goes both ways.

  “The vampires are stealing blood?” Alyssa asks.

  “Not quite. Stealing humans is more like it,” I reply, grabbing myself a water from the fridge. I want to sit down, but there’s no way I’m going to dirty up my couch with this mess. “We’re trying to figure out whether it’s voluntary. Either way, gotta bust the ring.”

  I tell Alyssa about my encounter at the club and Blood Boy’s attack on me, leaving out the four hunks who saved me, for some reason. Probably because I’m not sure how to handle them myself. “So . . . what you’re seeing is the last remnants of him. He disintegrated about six inches from taking a bite outta crime fighting.”

  Alyssa shivers, coming over and looking at the mess. “Holy shit. That’s scary.”

  “I know. Thank goodness Joe had my back.”

  Alyssa frowns. I wonder if she can tell that I’m lying about Joe saving my ass, but a moment later, she wipes at her eye, shaking her head. “I feel sorry for the guy. Blood Boy.”

  I slam back the rest of my water, scowling. Sometimes, my little sister completely vexes me. “Feel sorry?” I rasp, coughing as the last drops of icy water go down the wrong pipe. “Are you kidding me?”

  Alyssa nods, strong but unsure about pissing me off. “I mean, he didn’t ask to become a vampire and be hunted.”

  Ugh. There’s being sensitive, and then there’s just being . . . misinformed. “If he didn’t want to be hunted, Alyssa, then he could have stayed within the law and taken his blood from the banks just like every other accidental vamp from the wars. But honey, vamps like Blood Boy are creatures of the night. They’re evil, and if not for knowing we hold the upper hand now with ultraviolet weapons, there would be absolutely nothing stopping them from turning the entire world into bloodsuckers.”

  “Do you really believe that? Do you really think all vampires are evil?”

  It’s a long-running difference between Alyssa and me. For her, the world’s a bright place, while for me, I’ve seen the dark side. Sometimes, it’s useful. She helps me remember what I’m fighting for. She often reminds me the ethics of trying to keep the Paranormals in check. To her, it’s a ‘civil rights’ issue, even after knowing how they’d nearly destroyed the entire world when we were kids. She thinks that everyone’s pink cotton candy inside, that they want the world to be a happy place.

  She’s half right, but right now, I’m too tired and biased because I was almost dinner for a vampire tonight to debate. I barely have the words to express how disgusted I am with what I see daily in Old Haven, how the law of the jungle reveals all of us for the animals we are. And since the Para Wars, that jungle’s gotten mighty damn big. Instead, I open my purse, dumping the file I’d brought home on Blood Boy on the table. I take the pictures of the lifeless bodies, not even bodies but just husks after they’ve been drained and dumped in the garbage around Old Haven, and toss them in front of her. “No, I don’t think they’re all evil. But he was. You think something good could do this to innocent people?”

  Alyssa stares at the pictures, her face turning white before she gulps, closing her eyes. “The wolves are not like that,” she says finally. “They just want to be left in peace.”

  I wish the world were like she wants, but it isn’t. And while I wish I could say I’m fighting to give her the world she deserves, the reality is that I’m barely hanging on to keeping the barbarians from the gates. “There are bad folks in every camp, Alyssa. Yeah, wolves aren’t too bad, but they have their bad apples too.”

  “Choose.”

  I look around, wondering where the voice came from. I’m naked, standing in a field greener than anything I’ve ever seen before, and I know this is a dream.

  How do I know? Well for one, I normally don’t stand in the middle of fields talking to disembodied voices while naked.

  “I’m not disembodied, dumbass,” the voice says, and I look around. There’s a tree in the middle of the field, and wrapped around the trunk is a giant snake looking at me.

  “Seriously?” I ask, approaching the tree and the snake.

  As I approach the tree, I feel a power growing inside me. I feel . . . I don’t know, like the center of my body is growing warmer, filling with energy that must be unleashed soon or else it might consume me. It’s sexy and scary at the same time, and as I step closer, the snake . . . smiles?

  “You feel it. Now you must choose your path.”

  The snake looks up, and I see two fruits hanging from parallel branches. They’re both perfect, shiny and ripe and looking so delicious that all I want to do is pick one.

  But which one? They both glow with an inner light that seems to radiate from every inch of their flawless skin. But one is golden, with sparkles that almost shower down to disappear into the air. The other is a powerful green, not blending but dominating.

  “What are these?” I ask, and the snake hisses.

  “They are you. Now . . . choose.”

  I reach out, touching the green fruit, and my body is jolted with a bolt of absolute power. I’ve never felt anything like this, and the power within is seductive, whispering to me that if I choose it, I’ll never have to worry about hunger, or money, or anything else again. I will never have to bow to my enemies. They’ll be crushed under my heel.

  Taking my hand away, my body throbbing with need and . . . and desire, I gasp before touching the golden one. The light is pure, joyful. It says that terrible things may happen, but like tears in the rain, they will be washed away. It says that with it lies the chance at not power, but joy and happiness.

  I look back and forth, and the snake studies me. “They are both you . . . but which shall you let guide you? Choose.”

  I close my eyes and reach out with my left hand. I can feel it drawn toward the green fruit, but at the last moment, my heart cries out and I take the golden one. The snake chuckles and disappears, only to be replaced in a flash by the presence of figures behind me.

  I turn and see the four men from the alley. “You chose well, my princess,” the dark-haired one . . . Cole, if I remember right, says. “Let us show you.”

  As the four men close on me, I feel myself enveloped in warmth and joy. Lips find mine as fingertips stroke ov
er my skin and set my body aflame with light and desire.

  The big one wraps me in his arms from behind, his massive chest and even more massive cock pressed against my body. “You have us at your disposal,” he rasps, rolling his hips against my ass. I can feel his cock slide between my ass cheeks, and I whimper in want, looking back at him. “Yes. It’s all yours.”

  “As is this,” the snarky one, Jacob, adds, kissing down my side to playfully lick my hip. I can feel his tongue start to work its way closer and closer to between my legs, but my eyes are on Cole as he watches, his cock long and proud in front of him.

  He’s the only one standing back, waiting for something. I can feel it in my mind and deep within my gut as well. “To me, Cole,” I whisper, and he steps forward. In a single motion, I’m lifted by the other three, my legs spread wide as Cole steps between them. He kisses me deeply, and with a single thrust—

  “Pound the alarm!” my radio blares before an electronic cacophony hits, and I wake up, covered in sweat and my body trembling on the edge of a massive orgasm.

  Chapter 5

  Eve

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Alyssa yawns, looking up when I come into the kitchen. “Yeah . . . listen, about—”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Alyssa stops, blinking. “What?”

  I sigh and pop my backup pistol out of the safe to put it in my holster. “Last night, I was pissed, covered in gunk, and just . . . it wasn’t a good day. You had some valid points.”

  “Thank you,” Alyssa replies, nodding. “I should apologize too. I know that you’re not some jackbooted thug. You’re trying to do the right thing.”

  “And so are you. Alyssa, I know you sympathize with the Paranormal cause. And in some ways, I wish it was like the old days when we were kids. The Paras policed themselves because they didn’t want to be known. Then . . . well, it happened. But I should take your feelings into account too. You keep me balanced.”

  I want to tell her more, that I know her secret . . . but we don’t have time, and that minefield is one I think will be better if she can invite me in first. If possible, at least.

  “I just . . .” Alyssa says, then sighs. “I remember what it was like after Mom and Dad finally got to legally adopt you, when you started to relax. You were happy. And after they died and it was just the two of us, you tried to stay happy still, at least for me. But since you joined the Para Squad, you’ve stopped smiling most of the time. I want that sister back.”

  I nod, touched. We might not be blood, but we’re closer than that in a lot of ways.“ I know. It’s hard, just because of the hours. Thank God you’re in Junior College now. It was hard trying to take you to high school on two hours of sleep. But hey, I’ve got a weekend off starting tomorrow. How about we go hang? We can even go to the Cabana Room if you want.”

  Alyssa fidgets, then shakes her head. “I’d love to, Eve, but I’m gonna have to pass. Just . . . stuff.”

  What the hell? The Cabana Room is the place that Alyssa bugged me for months to try and look the other way so she could use her fake ID to get in. We celebrated her twenty-first there, and it’s been our place since then. “What sort of stuff?”

  God, I hope she doesn’t figure out about Zack. Maybe I should change our plans?

  It’s the same buzzing feeling as my headaches, but this time, it’s different, and I remember what the four guys said last night. “What about Zack?”

  Alyssa nearly drops the fork she’s using to scoop up some TVP nuggets, her face going white. “Zack? I don’t know anyone named Zack.”

  I know she is lying, I mean, I know who Zack is . . . but I’m shocked. I heard her say it as clear as day . . . I thought. Oh, hell, Cole was right. Wait, did I just read Alyssa’s thoughts? “Really?”

  “Yeah . . . why do you ask?” Alyssa says, and I can hear it for sure. She’s lying her ass off, and not all that well.

  I’m tempted to call her on it but I decide now’s not the time. I still don’t know what the fuck’s happening to me, and I don’t need to be chasing down my baby sister if she wants to have an undercover boyfriend. Still . . . I’ll keep an eye out. “Oh, nothing. I just thought you said something about meeting someone and the name Zack was on the tip of my tongue.”

  “I didn’t. I mean, I haven’t,” Alyssa says. “Just busy, that’s all.”

  An awkward silence drops between us as we finish eating our late breakfast and I take Alyssa to New Haven Junior College. We’re most of the way there when the traffic slows to a crawl, then a stop. Seeing a passing traffic cop, I flag him down. “What’s the hold up?”

  “The assholes won their court case and are marchin’,” the cop says, his eyes cutting to my piece then my badge. “You wanna help?”

  “Sorry, gotta drop off my sister. What court case?”

  The cop shakes his head. “The Street Sweepers.”

  Street Sweepers. I don’t know which is a bigger threat to me on duty, the Paras like Blood Boy or the Street Sweepers. A ‘citizen’s awareness society’ that was born out of the terror of the Para Wars, what started as a neighborhood watch has morphed into something I don’t think anyone anticipated . . . they’re just pure hate. I call them vigilantes.

  I look up the street and I can see them in their blue shirts and black pants, marching on one side of the street, their ‘shields’ covered with hateful slogans about Paranormals. On the other side, counter-protestors who are smaller and less-organized but no less vocal, hurl insults back, and I’d bet within a few minutes, they might be hurling more.

  “Street Sweepers . . . fuckin’ can’t stand them,” Alyssa mutters, and I can’t disagree with her. “Want to take away the Paras’ right to survive. What was the case?”

  I back my car up, popping the red light on my roof as I drive down the sidewalk for fifty feet before hanging a right to get clear of the area. “Three Sweepers were busted making plans for a bombing in Old Haven, a shifter apartment building. They got off on a defense that you can’t arrest people for conspiracy to commit murder since Paras aren’t human.”

  Truth is, I’d lost track of the case. The Sweepers are headquartered in New Haven and were taken down by regular cops. Other than the unique defense, I’ve had my plate full. Still, their defense disgusts me, and I expect Alyssa to rant for the rest of our trip, but instead, she’s quiet all the way to school. I wonder if she’s freaked out, sad, or just wondering what the hell’s going on with me . . . or maybe she’s just thinking about Zack.

  After dropping Alyssa off, I report to the 54th, getting there just as the clock strikes noon. Joe’s already in, chatting with one of the lab techs when I sling my bag down. “Sorry I’m late. Don’t ask.”

  “Yeah, well, Captain said he wanted to see us as soon as you got in,” Joe says. He’s looking rather chipper, and I wonder how he does it. I get four hours of sleep and feel like something the cat dragged in. Joe beats me to work but somehow looks like he’s ready to run the damn Ninja Warrior course.

  “Oh, shit,” I mutter. “Last night?”

  “Most likely,” Joe says, leading the way as we go into the captain’s office.

  Donald Shaughnessy, universally known as The Captain, has been with the NHPD since it was just the Haven Police Department and hasn’t been on the streets in over a decade. He’s got a bad temper and not enough hours in the gym downstairs to let it out. “Sit down, both of you.”

  “Captain, if this is about—” I start, but the captain slams a paper on his desk, shutting me up.

  “Two more dead! Last night! You two said you were on the cusp of shutting this shit down and now we have two more women dead, stuffed so full of drugs that even a blast addict could’ve gotten high off their sweat.”

  Shit. Two more? No wonder the captain’s already ballistic. City Hall’s probably chewed his ass twice over already. Unfortunately, my being late probably means I’ve missed his warmups, where he asks leading questions and shows he’s at least listening. Nope, I get him i
n full-on Fukushima mode, where it’s scream first, make sense of it later. “Where did this—”

  The captain’s not finished. “Do you two fuckwits know this town is sitting on a stick of dynamite ready to blow? If we don’t put a stop to this, there will be all-out war! Now with the Sweeper mess, we’re going to have full-on squad battles in the streets! Now tell me what happened with the leeches. You get a lead before Blood Boy got himself vaporized?”

  I sigh, shaking my head. “No . . . just the club. I’ve got another lead, a guy named Reynaldo. Vamp from the South Side.”

  The captain snorts. “And you?”

  Joe shrugs, spreading his hands. “Not much. I mean, I could find the succubus who tried to get with me last night, but—”

  “Cut the shit, Joe. There’s no such thing as succubi,” the captain says in disgust. “I’m starting to think you both are incompetent and I need to put someone else on this case. Especially with the mayor preparing to give us a big public rub and tug for all the previous cases we’ve closed.”

  “Captain, come on!” I protest. The mayor has the worst timing sometimes, although I understand why he’s doing it. Gotta keep the citizens of New Haven feeling safe, even if the award is mostly bullshit. “We can do it.”

  The captain shakes his head, snorting. “Yeah, I’m sure. Face it, you’re too soft, Carter. A woman has no place in this line of work. And considering your past and your family situation, you’re even more conflicted.”

  Anger swells in me, and I’m about to ask him what that means when the voices start in my head again. A voice that sounds very much like the captain’s whispers, saying even more terrible things about me. It’s pretty caveman, all about how I’m too pretty to be working in this line of work and how I’m just a quota hire to avoid a lawsuit against the department. About the only thing a cunt like her is good for is fucking.

 

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