That's right.
My soulmate was engaged to another women.
I sipped my witch's brew quick, and when Argent came out of the kitchen, I handed it up to him for more.
"Dinner will be ready in fifteen—if you can manage to hang out that long." I gave the sexy fae man a look, and he shrugged his massive shoulders at me. Oh well. He did give me three consecutive orgasms the other day, so I guessed I could let him get away with being a bit of a prick.
"Look, I have a wedding that's been planned for years. Literal fucking years. I can't cancel it."
"And I have a mother who's dying!" I shouted, standing up so fast my head spun. Uh-oh. Too much witch's brew too quick. I could feel my magic lifting my hair and clothes up in a supernatural breeze. Prickles of power stung my fingertips, and I did my best to shake them out as Hex rose to his feet. "Do you have any compassion? Or are you seriously just a heartless prick?"
He opened and closed his mouth several times before frowning.
"If I don't marry this chick, it'll mean war between my coven and her cabal. You're a part of Coven Apothecary; you know all about how vindictive demons can be." Hex exhaled and leaned his head back with a groan, rubbing both tattooed hands over his face. "Fucking goddess' tits, this is a nightmare."
"Get married earlier in the day," Spectre suggested, in that midnight-and-moons voice of his. "And then meet us at Abigail’s house at three. We need to cast at the witching hour, but there's quite a bit of prep involved, too." He tucked his inked fingers into the pockets of his leather pants. "Most ceremonies are earlier in the day anyway, right?”
Hex dropped his hands by his sides, and just looked at Spec first, then Caine, then me.
"Right. So I just need to explain to my fiancée that I'll be missing the reception and the wedding night?" Hex reached into his pocket and got out a pack of cigarettes. They were moon magic cigs made, obviously, with tobacco, but without the tar and chemicals of regular cigarettes. I still wasn’t a fan, but it was better than grabbing a standard human pack from the store. "I'll do it," he said, before my husbands or I could get another word out. "I just … need to figure out how to deal with my end."
He turned and started for the door, but I couldn't tell if he was stepping out for a smoke or if he was leaving.
"We also need you to come to dinner with us at my mother's house tomorrow night," I blurted, and Hex paused. The firelight played with the silky darkness of his hair, the orange and yellow light mixing with the bright orange streaks he already had. He turned to look at me over his shoulder, mouth pursed. "She won't let you do the spell without meeting her first." I threaded my hands together in front of me, and sighed. "We just sort of wanted to talk to you about what might be expected …"
Hex snorted, and smirked.
"I'll be a good boy, scout's honor." He gave us a very derogatory little salute, and opened the front door. He hadn't taken a single step out before I heard it, a sort of thick, wet plopping sound on the roof.
I'll tell you this much: it wasn't rain.
"What the fuck is that?" Hex asked as Caine shot to his feet and pushed the half-demon aside. My werewolf hubby bolted out the door and down the steps, looking up into the midnight blue of an autumn sky. Even Bast deigned to wake up, standing and stretching on the woodpile before hopping down and trotting straight upstairs to check on the kids. After startling awake with his fur raised up on his back, Con followed after her.
Hopefully they wouldn’t mate while no one was looking.
"It's a fucking demon, that's what it is," Caine growled, shaking himself out. He slipped out of his flannel shirt, tore his tank over his head, and dropped his jeans. Caine always went commando—always. No point in wearing underwear for someone who might have to shape-change at a moment's notice to save his own life. Let's just say his clothing budget was pennies to the dollar on mine or Spec's; Argent preferred faerie clothing which came with its own very unique set of costs.
Caine's skin rippled and changed, fur sprouting from his tanned flesh as his body shapeshifted into his wolf form.
"Just as the soup was finished simmering," Argent drawled out, taking his apron off as he exited the kitchen. I grabbed a broom from the wall, tossed one to Hex, and headed outside after him. Spec gathered his scythe up (yes, he was a badass) and Hex followed us onto the porch, just before I shut the door and locked it.
Nobody asked about the kids. Even Hex was smart enough to know that the house (and Bast) would protect them. We'd be more likely to die out here than the house would be to let anyone or anything inside of it.
But if a demon was paying us a house call, then it had an agenda.
"Does this happen often?" Hex asked, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "I mean, is this a common occurrence for Coven Apothecary witches to be attacked in their own home?"
"Since I became High Priestess four years ago?" I asked, giving Hex a look. He raised his eyebrows at that one. I'm guessing he didn't know I was acting High Priestess for Coven Apothecary. Usually it was a position awarded to witches twice my age. "Only once."
I slipped into a pair of boots that I'd left on the porch, clutched my broom in my right hand, and moved down the steps into the yard.
Caine was pacing in circles around the perimeter of the property, right where it butted up against the forest. Our wards were strong, but I could see them rippling and cracking. Whoever or whatever it was seemed to have no trouble breaking down our first line of defenses.
Argent moved out beside Caine, while Spec and I hung back, scanning the sky.
Hex just smoked a cigarette and managed to look like a general asshole while this was all going down.
I didn't see anything up above, but that sound on the roof … the demon was dropping something on us from above the wards, something the magic didn't feel the need to filter out.
Another mysterious something plopped down right in front of me, shattering to wet, gooey pieces across my feet. That's when I realized what the fucking things were: they were gods-damned pumpkins.
"It's throwing pumpkins at us?" I asked as Spec sidestepped another giant orange globule. Seeds and squash guts were strewn all around the ground near our feet as Caine let out a nasty snarl, and Argent cast a spell to bring whatever was up there, down here.
My husband, the ancient ass fucking fae guardian that I'd brought over from the other side of the Veil, drew several glowing symbols in the air, activating a break in the property wards, and then summoned the demon with a generic spell.
There wasn't a soul on this plane or any other that could truly summon a demon without their proper name, but there were spells that acted as pretty strong fucking attractants. And this demon very clearly wanted us to pay attention to it.
I just hoped we could take it by ourselves.
Spec slid his phone from his pocket and handed it over to me.
I very quickly sent out a group text to ask for reinforcements—just in case.
Unfortunately, our new demon friend wasn't about to wait for them to arrive.
It dropped down through the hole in the wards like it was happy to be summoned, crashing into the earth and shattering a dozen more pumpkins. Guts splattered all over my hair, my face, my clothes. Hex groaned, but Spec was ready, sliding his scythe from its bone sheathe.
It was made entirely of ivory—the only material that could cut and permanently damage a demon.
Silver was for hunting werewolves, iron for fae, bone for witches, wood for vampires.
There was a very specific way things were done.
And me, I had a broom.
Yeah, the whole witch and broom thing is not a rumour—it's true.
Brooms made for good transportation, they held charms and spells in their bristles and handle, they swept negative energy or residual magic out of a place, and they made very effective weapons. The entire handle of the broom I was clutching was made of ivory.
I inhaled through my flared nostrils and tried
not to panic as I studied the monstrosity standing in front of me.
There were nine different categories of demons: category one would be something small, almost harmless while category nine would be something of nightmares, like the demon king or queen.
I was guessing this guy … was a goddamn seven.
"Where the fuck did this asshole come from?" I choked out as the monster stood up on eight separate legs, like a spider. Unlike a spider, it had clawed fingers on the end of each leg, a face that was vaguely wolf, and thick, mangy, matted fur like a dog with scabies. It's mouth was opened to three layers of razor-sharp teeth, and it had eight eyes—also like a spider. They glittered like jewels in the glow of our festive purple and orange, bat and pumpkin lights.
The worst part, though, were its wings, made of bone and a translucent, almost sinewy flesh. They cracked as they moved, the bones grinding together and making my teeth hurt.
"We should've felt a summon or a breach this big," Spectre explained to a very confused and terrified looking Hex. Pretty sure he'd never seen a level seven demon in his life. Almost nobody had—including myself. I'd seen a level nine, but never a seven.
The monster shook itself out, sending more masticated pumpkin bits everywhere. It's tail was long and sinuous with a scorpion-like barb at the end of it. I most definitely didn't want me or my family anywhere near that goddess-damned spike.
The creature let out an ear-splitting roar as Caine charged it. I knew he didn't mean to connect, but the demon didn't. It went at him, slaver dripping from its jaws as it charged, plowing right through the spot where he was standing as he feinted left.
I was busy casting a containment spell, but to be effective and hold strong, I'd need to cast one for each leg before releasing the magic. I tore a charm off my hat that caused my spell to replicate. And then another charm. Another.
The rest of them I had to cast myself, pulling magic up through the ley line in the earth. Witches weren't a part of the world's natural order, but whatever plane we'd come from had long since been lost, and we'd learned to work with the earth's natural magics. Ley lines were power centers deep within the ground that lined up with more important landmarks in the world, like natural portals or wells of energy.
I didn't need one to cast spells, but it sure helped a whole fuck of a lot.
I slammed the containment spell into the demon as Caine ran literal circles around, just barely keeping himself out of reach of the barb on the end of its tail. Spectre was waiting for an opening, and Argent was busy putting together a curse that could blast this piece of shit to bits without blowing up our entire yard.
Hopefully, we wouldn't have to use it, but it was there if we needed it.
Meanwhile, I'd be cutting a very small hole between this world and the next, so I could send this piece of shit back to where it came from. Killing demons wasn't advisable unless necessary as their death could leave a stain on the world, a pocket of unruly magic or even a huge rip between this world and the demon realm of Hael.
"What the fuck is that thing?" Hex asked, coming up to stand beside me. While I cast this spell, I'd be particularly vulnerable which was why Spec was holding back. He needed to be able to come to my aide in a moment's notice.
"Dunno. Seventh level demon." That's all I was able to get out, gritting my teeth as I used the magic in the ley line to slice a very thin hole between the worlds. It wasn't noticeable to the naked eye, but as soon as I was able to make it large enough, and we pushed the demon into it, I could zip it up without anyone being the wiser.
The demon finally managed to hit Caine, throwing him across the yard and into the side of the house so hard that he let out a whimper. That sound tore at my heart, and I had to resist the urge to go to him. If I moved now, I'd drop the spell and the tiny slice I was creating would turn into a gaping hole for more demons to come through.
Spectre moved forward in the blink of an eye, orange and yellow and red leaves swirling around him as he put himself between Caine and the demon, swinging his scythe and severing the thing's tail in half.
Black blood sprayed out in a hot, sticky arc, covering Argent and Caine, but the wound only seemed to infuriate the monster further. It screamed in rage and went for Spec, grabbing the end of his scythe in its mouth and tearing it from his fingers.
It chucked the weapon right at me, but Spec moved at supernatural speed to catch it, stopping the blade just inches from my face.
He whipped the scythe back around and took off, slamming the curved white blade into the demon's back. Its spine writhed and twisted as it screeched, turning its head nearly one-hundred and eighty degrees to latch onto his arm. Spec was thrown in the direction of the woods, his body flying right past the wards to slam into a tree. He still managed to hold onto his scythe which was seriously fucking impressive, but that left Argent to face-off with the demon.
Caine was still struggling to his feet, probably with several broken bones, and I was still in the middle of my spell. This was going to end up a serious clusterfuck before it got better—I just hoped nobody had to die first.
The demon glanced at Argent, and then swung its eight pairs of glittering eyes over to me. Argent's spell wasn't quite finished, but he was forced to drop it anyway to block the creature from attacking me next. It swing two of its clawed hands in my direction, and promptly lost them to a swipe of white-hot magic from Argent's fingers.
He was stronger than the demon, no doubt.
I just didn't know if he was stronger than two. Or three.
The property's outer wards collapsed, and two more of the fucking things came at me from the right. Almost done, almost done, almost done, I thought, as Argent cut one demon off, and the other launched itself over his head.
"Grace, move!" he shouted, but before I got a chance to, a fourth demon came at me from above, dropping down with wings made of bones. It very nearly killed me.
Would have, if it wasn’t for Hex.
He threw up a protection spell using one of his tattoos, ink uncurling from his skin and lashing out and up. It unfurled from his flesh, drawing a groan from his throat at the same time. Did I ever mention how goddess-damned bad it hurt to use an inked spell? You could feel each stab of the needle a hundred times over.
The shield went up just inches from my face, and then exploded. The demon flew back and into the blackberry tangles that crawled up the side of the house. The brambles swallowed it up, wrapping it in vines and the shriveled remains of summer's blackberries. Well, that'd take care of that one for a while.
Now we just had the other three to deal with.
I finished with the rift between our world and Hael, and then swung my broom around in a circle, facing off against one of the monsters while Argent wrapped another in ropes of magic and dragged him toward the portal. He dumped the fucker down into it, and the monster sank like a horse in quicksand, rearing and screaming as he was swallowed up in a boiling oil-like substance.
Hex took up a position at my back, like a proper witch, wielding his broomstick as a staff. I was surprised at how quickly he took up the mantle, but if the Coven Apothecary witches arrived and saw a man—a half-demon man, no less—from Coven Wyrmwood fighting on our side, they would lose our shit.
I might lose my position as High Priestess.
Fuck.
"We need to dispatch these demons quick, and then you need to get the fuck out of here," I said, and Hex made a noise from behind me. One of the creatures opened its bone-wings wide, flapped them, and rose up above us. When it came down, Caine was there to leap onto its back, tearing into the creature's flesh with his teeth.
Hex swung the broomstick up, and smashed the handle into the base of the demon's jaw, cracking bone, if the sound was any indication of damage done. The beast fell back and shook Caine off of its side, sending him smashing into Spec as the vampire made his way back toward us.
This demon, it was the largest of the group, with the biggest head, the
brightest eyes, the longest tail.
"You fight on the side of witches?" it snarled, blood and bone oozing from between its lips. Its mouth hardly moved as it spoke, almost like the words were trapped on the other side of the Fire Veil. "Tell me demon, what is your motivation?" The monster laughed, the sound like gravel against my ears.
"Fuck you," Hex said, tearing a charm off the bristles of the broom and chucking it at the monster. The bone and ash mixture I'd churned up and woven into that broom so long ago exploded on impact, knocking steaming hunks of meat off the demon's side at the same time it pushed him back through the barrier.
Spec and Caine rounded up the third, and Argent was working the vines of the house, so that they'd drop the fourth and final demon through the barrier.
I whipped a needle and thread out of the bristles on my broom, and stabbed the metal through my lower lip, sewing my mouth shut. The portal sealed up with a pop and the stink of sulfur.
I could sense witches coming our way—and fast.
"You need to leave," Argent said, nodding with his head in the direction of Hex's bike. But I'm guessing the demon-witch had never seen a portal being closed. He just stared at me as I stood there with blood dripping down my chin onto my breasts, soaking into my white tank. "Now."
Hex shook himself like he was waking up from a dream, handed his broomstick over to Argent, and then put two fingers to his lips. He whistled for Con, and the tiny black cat came trotting out to meet him, clawing his way up Hex’s pants to rest on his shoulders. The demon-witch paused next to me like he was going to say something.
Instead, he took off down the gravel drive, climbed on his motorcycle, and left.
"The supplies will be in tomorrow," Grace said, touching the wooden crates with the bits of hay sticking out of the cracks. "We can deal with Hex's spell then, and maybe go for the last ingredient on Sunday?"
"Tomorrow is craft day," I said, swirling my finger in a circle to indicate the store. Everything was so blessedly normal today, it was easy to forget that we’d been attacked by demons last night. But, the incident had been reported to the Three and they’d written it off as standard Coven Apothecary business. Me, I wasn’t so sure, but I didn’t exactly have the luxury of dwelling on it. Halloween was in five fucking days. "And the pumpkin carving and the costume contests and our busiest business night of the year." Grace cursed under her breath, adjusted her green witch hat with the purple ribbon, and sighed.
The Family Spells: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance Page 12
