Harem of Souls

by Emma Dawn

  His throat bobbed and he seemed to struggle with swallowing, but he didn’t pull away. A smile curled over my lips. “How bad could forbidden be?”

  “We could be cast into a deeper level of death, or worse, have our souls eaten.” A new voice snapped me out of the spell that had been woven around Jessop and me.

  I lowered myself off my toes and slowly turned, refusing to act startled. Through the fog, a figure emerged, his body about as opposite to Jessop’s as one could get. Big, brawny, and built like a goddamned Viking with his long blond hair, scruffy beard, and fierce eyes that matched the swirling of the fog. He moved with the grace of a fighter, wore the armor of a man who’d been in battle many times, and his body, the skin I could see, was covered in scars.

  “And you are?” I put my hand on one hip and cocked a leg.

  He approached slower. “You are not afraid of me?”

  “I asked,” I slowed the words for effect, “who you are?”

  Behind me Jessop let out a laugh. “Oh, this is going to be fun. She doesn’t scare easily, Ivan.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Scandinavian?”

  “Finnish,” he rumbled back. I nodded.

  “Well, you interrupted me. I was about to kiss Jessop.”

  “No, there will be no kissing.” Ivan reached for me with a large hand and I swatted the back of it as if he were a pesky fly.

  “Excuse me, but I will kiss whoever the fuck I want.” I made a shooing motion with my hands. His eyes widened and then narrowed. Jessop laughed harder.

  “Oh, God, Ivan, this is going to be the best trip yet.”

  I took a step back so Jessop’s chest supported me a little. “Tell me he isn’t going with us.”

  Jessop put his hands on my arms, rubbing them gently. “Rose. This is Ivan. He’s the leader of our ragtag group and if you’re wondering at all the dominance play, it’s because of what he was when he was living.”

  I stood a little straighter, letting myself sink into this world completely. No point in dipping my toes. I might as well dive into these waters. I’d read enough paranormal romances to be on board with this game. “Not a vampire. I can see that. No fangs.”

  “This is not a game,” Ivan growled, sending the hairs on my body to stand at attention.

  I smiled up at him, fighting through the sensation he roused in me. “Life is a game, Ivan. If I guess right, what do I win?”

  Ivan glared at me and I kept on smiling. “Let me guess, you made the forbidden rules. Would that be right? Which means they aren’t really forbidden.”

  Jessop grunted, but said nothing. I knew it. Ivan was a control freak.

  “Look here, Ivan.” I snapped my fingers in his face. “You might be the leader but nobody, and I mean nobody, tells me what to do with my body. Got it?”

  He glared down at me and I glared back, not realizing that I had moved closer so I was almost standing on his boots.

  “Got it?” I asked quietly with about as much menace as I could muster. This had always worked before. No one stood up to my quiet Italian anger.

  Ivan reached down and grabbed me by the chin. I gasped and he lowered his face so we touched noses.

  “You are not in charge here, and you will not give me orders. Got it?” When he let me go, I stumbled back a few steps. Jessop steadied me, but I was so angry, I didn’t have the words to spit at Ivan’s back as he turned and walked away. The fog began to clear around us, which meant I could have taken in the world where I stood, this dead world of which I was a part of now. But all I could do was glare at the broad back walking away from me and wonder at the burning sensation his fingers left on my skin.

  I did not like Ivan, not one damn bit.

  But would I ride his oversized Viking body into the ground, all sweaty and panting, gasping for more?

  You better fucking believe it.

  Chapter Two

  Almost Dying Still Sucks, but It’s Getting Interesting

  I shook from the top of my head all the way down to my toes with the emotions and adrenaline that Ivan had produced in a single touch. Not to say that I was giving up on Jessop and his sweet brown eyes, nope. He was still rather interesting. The vampire came around to my side and lifted my hand to settle it on his arm again. “I’m going to give you a quick lesson so you know a bit more of how to deal with the members of this guide team assembled.”

  I gave him a short nod, not trusting my voice yet. Mostly because I wanted to screech at Ivan’s back and tell him to turn the fuck around and face me. Ladylike? Yeah, not so much. But I never claimed to be a lady and sticking me in a big fancy dress wasn’t going to change that either.

  “You have a chance to get out of here, to go back to the land of the living,” he said.

  I stared at him. “I could go home?” To my life, to Dominique. Hope flared in my chest and it was only then that I allowed myself to feel the fear and loss of this almost death. I could go home, that was the important part of what Jessop was saying.

  “Yes,” he said, “but it means that you will have to trust us to help you. There is one other vampire besides myself, two werewolves including Ivan, and two warlocks. Each of us has our abilities and those abilities will help see you through to the Chalice.”

  I looked at him, taking in the profile of his face. Hope was something I knew firsthand to be dangerous. How many times had I thought my family would come through for me only to let me down? This was more of the same. I was going to have to be careful how much stock I put in these guides of mine. “Okay, first, let me get this straight. I’m dealing with vampires, werewolves, and warlocks.”

  “Correct. All supernaturals, just like you.”

  “Why? I mean, as far as I know, they aren’t real, just figments of my imagination. But why such a spread of characters?”

  Jessop laughed and helped me up a step, and it was only then I realized we walked toward a large house that looked as if the Addams family had decorated it. Gargoyles and headless angels hung around the edges. The stone that covered it was a deep gray bordering on black and the baroque style left me feeling as though it was indeed a haunted house. Then again, I was hanging out with dead people, so what else could it be?

  Jessop sighed. “You are special, Rose. I don’t know how. I just know you are and it’s because of that special something that you are going to be given the chance to go back to the land of the living. It’s also why you’ve been assigned such a mix of guides. Normally, you get only the guides that are of your specific bloodlines. If you were a vampire, it would be at least six vampires escorting you. Vincent will fill you in on much of the information you need and the questions you might have.”

  He patted my hand and then we were along the walkway, strolling toward a large door as if we were going for dinner in a nineteenth century throwback date. Part of my mind was trying to tell me this was not real, that I was dreaming, or maybe truly dead. But another part spoke softly to me that this was real. That I’d known my whole life that I was meant for something more than I’d been given in both family and strength.

  There on the steps of the Addams’s family lookalike home, I made a choice to believe. Because let’s be honest, this wasn’t exactly Kansas anymore, and I honestly didn’t want to believe I was truly dead. If I had a choice, I was going to fight for a way to get home. At the very least, I owed Dominique that. She had been my best friend and my rock for years. I wasn’t about to give up on getting back to her. My family wouldn’t care once the funeral and all the attention was gone. My mom might milk her grief for years. I cringed at my own thoughts, that was harsh, but as harsh as it was, I knew it was true.

  The huge doors opened as we approached and candlelight lit our entrance into the massive, overbearing spooky damn house. More of the same gargoyles and headless angels were situated on the walls near the sconces of light. I grimaced. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was an attempt to scare me.”

  Jessop shot me a glance. “No, it’s not. This is . . . let’
s just say Vincent is interesting. He has his own style and his own way of doing things.”

  Interesting was a word that told me nothing and made me nervous. I couldn’t help but tighten my hand on Jessop’s arm. He led me through the halls of the house that soon felt like a maze.

  I wasn't sure I could ever find my way out again on my own, which was not a good thing. In every stupid horror flick I'd ever seen—and I'd seen a lot—not being able to find your way out of a big house that looked like it was owned by the devil... was a bad idea. A very bad idea and here I was living it.

  "Um, just how far in do we have to go to find Vincent."

  "The dungeons of hell," Jessop said.

  "WHAT?" The word burst out of me and I pulled back as he laughed.

  "I'm kidding, Rose. I'm kidding." He tugged me back so I was tucked under his arm. "His office is just at the end of the hall here."

  My heart was racing and I found myself half glaring, half laughing at him. "That was dirty pool."

  "I couldn't resist. It made you flush a lovely color across your breasts." He ran a finger over my collarbone, drawing a shiver out of me.

  I made myself swat his hand away. I didn't want to, but I also wanted him to work for this a little bit.

  This. As if this was a thing that we had. I drew a breath, which of course, raised the cleavage of my breasts higher yet. “You be careful. You’ll end up falling in love with me and I’ll have to break your heart,” I said.

  “Ah, well, let the games begin then.” He bent down and blew a light breath across the side of my neck, sending another shiver through me.

  Game on.

  We reached the end of the hallway and Jessop opened a door on his right. It didn't creak as I expected and I stepped through to see seven men in the room. Ivan was one of them, but the other six . . .I could only guess that five were my other guides, and that the last one sitting behind the big desk with the beard that disappeared underneath the edge of the desk was Vincent. His eyes were fogged over, solid white, and yet I had no doubt he saw me.

  I stood a little straighter, doing my best not to look at the other men. "You must be Vincent."

  "And you are Rose, daughter of the warlock Gavin."

  I blinked and stared at him. "Excuse me?"

  "The family you were raised with is not your family by blood. Gavin is your father, and your mother is a woman named Eleanor who carried great magic within herself."

  The other men didn't move but I could feel the tension rise, particularly in the one who was still cloaked and the man with dark hair next to him. I kept my eyes on Vincent. I shook my head. "Okay, that can't be. I've never so much as lit a match with any sort of power, never mind had great power come out of these fingers." I wiggled my hand and the men around me actually took a step back. I couldn't help it, I laughed at them. "Seriously, I don't mean to be rude, but there is no way I am this particular Rose you speak of. I can't be. There’s been a mistake. My family are assholes, not supernaturals."

  "It is why you did not die in the car crash on the highway,” Vincent said. “Even if Dominique's men had not found you, you would not have died. You are too strong for a mediocre death."

  Dominque's men. . . vaguely an image came back to me of dark eyes, of colors swirling around me that made me think of fairy sparkles. I shook my head.

  "Are you sure?"

  Vincent did not smile. "Quite sure. And there is a bit of a predicament. There is someone who has come to make sure your power does not arise in this world. He will kill you if he can and take your power for his own. The only way to avoid this is to have you leave and fully rejoin the land of the living." His mouth twisted as if he didn’t want to send me away.

  A wave of chills washed through me, cooling any fervent denial I might have had. "How can you be sure?"

  "Because I am the keeper of this world, Rose," Vincent said. "I know all who come through and all who are here when it is not their time. These guardians will help you reach the Chalice. The Chalice will take you back to yourself."

  Like the Fountain of Youth, were my thoughts, only it was a fountain of life.

  Vincent stood. "You have met Jessop, and I believe you have met Ivan."

  I nodded. "Yes, Ivan's a peach."

  There were a few snickers through the other men and I finally turned to look at them. Vincent pointed at the man to Ivan's right. He had long dark hair that was braided down his back, and bright green eyes that made me think of a jewel I'd seen once set in a ring a long time ago. He grinned and gave me a quick wink.

  "That is Kessler. He is a werewolf from the northern climes and he is Ivan's second-in-command," Vincent said.

  I smiled at him, noting Kessler had a touch of Native American in him. There was an edge to his face, or maybe the way he moved made me think of a warrior. Something deep inside, my belly tightened as I looked at him, feeling a weird heat flow between us.

  "This here," Vincent went on, oblivious to my discomfort, "is Liam. A vampire from the Emerald Isle."

  I almost had to force my eyes to move to the man next in line. But the second they landed on Liam they locked on him hard. One blue eye, one green, and a careful smirk that made me want to smirk right back. His face had the lines of a man who'd lived a hard life with a few scars above his right eyebrow. He wore clothes that made me think he'd died recently. Jeans, T-shirt, leather jacket. Nothing special about the clothes other than the way they let me see the lines of his body.

  Vincent cleared his throat. "Next is Mars. He is a warlock and will help you train some of your abilities as you journey through the realms—assuming you have your father’s power in your veins."

  Again, I was forced to tear my eyes away, and again, I found a new lovely to look at. Mars wore a deep cowled cloak that put his face into shadows. But by the shape of his mouth and jaw, he'd be as lovely as the previous two. Lovely, but different. His chin was more pointed and by the way the dark purple cloak moved around him, he was lean as a whip. "Are you not going to take the hood off?" I asked.

  "No." His voice resonated through my chest and my nipples tightened. I almost reached up to touch them, the sense of desire was so strong. Instead, I clenched my fists. Bad Rose, very bad Rose. You can’t have all the goodies at the table.

  "Last, but surely not least, is Torq," Vincent said. "He is also a warlock, though he has no head for training, do not bother to ask him."

  Torq wore a dark blue cloaked hood, but he did not have it up hiding his face. In fact, he reached over and smacked Mars on the back. "You're being a tool. Those rules no longer apply to us here, take your cloak off."

  Mars stiffened but said nothing. Neither did he take the cloak off.

  Torq was only a little taller than me, perhaps five foot six at best, but muscular and I could see a lot of strength in his body just by the little movements he made. The jet-black hair and amber eyes though . . .that coloring was like a drug, and he drew me to him as the others had.

  Now normally, I would say it was just the dry spell I'd been in. My last boyfriend and I had broken up a few months before. Amicably. The truth was he'd been about ten years older than me and just couldn't keep up in the bedroom. I understood that. I truly did because there weren't many men who could keep up with me.

  I was a woman with the libido of a nineteen-year-old boy in his prime. Though, I'd played with the idea of dating multiple men, I'd never had the guts to try it. Men were full of the belief that they could take me on and unveil to me a world I'd never known between the sheets, and the truth was, they just couldn't. They were always too busy trying to show off, or show me what they thought I would like. Wrong again. I knew what I liked and I had no problem sharing that knowledge. But then again . . . if I could snag a couple of these guys, I'd lay odds that they would be able to keep up with me. Maybe.

  Maybe. A smile crossed my lips as the naughty thoughts poured through me.

  Vincent cleared his throat again. "I need to speak with Rose alone now."

  I
van grunted as if he'd been punched in the gut. "Vincent, we are her guardians through this. If there are things we should know—"

  "These are for her ears alone." Vincent's voice was firm and there was a level of ice to it. Ivan's eyes narrowed.

  "I am her guardian." The possessiveness in his voice was . . .lovely. I loved it, and maybe, just a little piece of me melted with his words. Okay, maybe more than a little piece, which was weird because possessive was not a word I liked with the men in my life. It didn't work.

  But with Ivan . . .maybe. There it was again, that waffling word that told me I was thinking of blowing my own rules out the window. For a piece of werewolf ass.

  A giggle rose through me like champagne bubbles and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep it locked in.

  "I'll be okay, Ivan." I managed to speak somewhat normally. His gray eyes shot to mine and I turned my face so Vincent couldn't see me wink at the big man.

  Ivan's eyes narrowed further. I winked again. Come on, Ivan, catch what I'm throwing you, I thought. I'll tell you after I get out of here.

  He blew out a big breath and then strode out of the room and the others followed. I watched each of them go, one at a time. I must admit I enjoyed their little parade probably a bit too much considering the situation I was in. Considering that Vincent probably had some awful thing to tell me that I should have been terrified was coming. But I wasn't. I just couldn't be.

  There was nothing about this place that bothered me in the least—weird, but it felt like coming home. Much as I wanted to get back to my life and Dominique, maybe I could treat this like the vacation I’d missed out on. I turned to face Vincent fully. His frown seemed to be etched through is beard with a hatchet at straight lines that made me think he was a puppet instead of alive. Alive being a relative term to my situation.