Realms and Rebels: A Paranormal and Fantasy Reverse Harem Collection

by C. M. Stunich

  Panting, I turn to look into the purple eyes of the pig-snouted creature perching on me. She stares back at me like she just doesn't have the goddamn time to deal with my stupidity.

  And this is my familiar?

  "I'm as much a part of you as your own legs; show some respect." The bat tucks its wings around its body like a blanket, opening her mouth to flash curved, wicked looking fangs when Trick's little wolf spirit gets too close.

  "She gives me the power to grow wings?" I hazard as Crew steps forward and puts his hands on his hips. He towers over us, but there's nothing threatening about his size. No, it's not an intimidation tactic; Crew just takes up a lot of space.

  He's smiling at me now in a bemused sort of a way, like he didn't just stab a giant spider monster with a sword.

  "That, among other things," the bat says, narrowing her eyes against the harsh glare of the sun. I can hear birds chirping, the wind teasing strands of my shoulder-length red hair. When I glance over my left shoulder, I see a field of wildflowers, their purple blossoms swaying in the gentle breeze. It's picturesque, this place, wherever it is.

  When a huge shadow passes over us, I glance up, expecting a plane.

  Instead ... I see a dragon.

  Mm.

  I am definitely not at home.

  Shivers pass over my body, but freaking out is not an option. I'm here, aren't I? What would having a panic attack accomplish? Okay, so there's a dragon in the sky above our heads. Sure. I also just saw a bus-sized spider-woman and turned into a bat, so ...

  "Where are we?" I ask, my voice surprisingly steady.

  "Safe, for now," Trick says, smoking a cigarette. The smoke is gray this time instead of red, so I'm guessing we're staying here for a while. "But if I tried to explain to you exactly where we were in relation to your world ... it'd get confusing and fast."

  "Considering I just sprouted wings and had a conversation with a bat, you could always try."

  "A bat?" the ... well, bat asks. "I am not a bat. I'm a Sanshi, and due the respect of one."

  "What's your name?" I ask as she spreads her wings wide, the leathery panels brushing my hair as she stretches. "Let me take a wild guess: Bat Corpse? Because it just has to be Bat Corpse, right?"

  "In so many words, you snarky bitch," the creature says, flapping her wings and lifting off my shoulder. You can imagine my surprise when she shifts into a woman right before my fucking eyes. There are those wide, beautiful wings, the fur at the forearms, the claws, the long, white hair. "The name is Kumorishi, but you're welcome to call me Bat Corpse if that suits your fancy."

  "I could really use those pills," I say, sitting down hard on the grass near the fire pit. There's a naked bat-woman standing in front of me. Not as weird as me turning into a bat woman, but close. "I could really, really use them."

  "She was taking binding curses," Trick explains to the bat woman, seemingly uninterested in her bare, furred breasts or ... well, furred other areas. At least I hadn't woken up with a fuzzy vajayjay. That would've really thrown me over the edge. "Daily."

  "Hourly," I correct, picking up the abandoned spit with the questionable meat on the end of it. But fuck it. If I don't eat now, I'll end up feeling sick later. I think as of right, I'm still in shock.

  "That would explain why I couldn't find her," Bat Corpse says. Okay, fine, Kumo? Kumo is better. "I've been looking for decades." She squats down across the fire pit from me and smiles. It's a terrifying expression, with those curved fangs of hers. "Decades, Ten-Tei."

  "If your name isn't Bat Corpse, then mine is definitely not Ten-Tei. Rayne works just fine, thanks." I tear into the meat, happy to see that it quite literally tastes like chicken. What, exactly, it is, I don't want to know.

  Crew sits down next to me and leans back, propping himself up in the grass with those large hands of his. Without his gloves on, I can clearly see the fine lines of his tattoos, dancing down the long lengths of his fingers. He looks from me to Kumo, then back to me again. The loose shrug of his shoulders and the bemused expression on his lips says that at least one of us is having a good time here.

  "Do all ... Corpses turn into people?" I ask, gesturing in the direction of Crew's sword and Trick's staff.

  Crew signs something complicated at me, and then glances in Kumo's direction.

  "Sometimes they turn into weapons," she says, smirking at me. "I suppose you're just lucky to have a handmaiden along for the ride." Kumo stretches her wings wide, blotting out the goddamn sun. She has a pretty face though, almost alien in its perfection. There's no sign of that squished pig-like nose from her bat form.

  "A handmaiden?" I say dryly, because the idea of having someone to wait on me is ludicrous. My life is basically the antonym of the word handmaiden. Slave. Yes, I've been a slave, shackled to my parents' legs and forced to work until I dropped. So really, I don't even want a handmaiden. "Are you here to help me fight spider devils then?"

  "Those weren't devils," Trick says, lifting his nose to the wind and closing his sightless eyes. He's shirtless and shoe-less again, dressed back in his ratty jeans while his pack bulges with his discarded winter wear. I can see a bit of that furry black cloak hanging out one side. "Those were demons, handmaidens to Jorogumo, if you will."

  "Jorogumo is the devil?" I ask, setting my spit aside and shivering as I accidentally brush Crew's fingertips. He quirks a brow at me, but I refuse to make eye contact. There's already so much shit going on around me, the last thing I need is a wet ... well, you know what I was going to say there. "The boss monster?"

  Crew gives me a thumbs-up and a shrug of his massive shoulders.

  "So what you're really saying," I continue as I sit up and reach out to grab the boar fur coat that's lying on the ground nearby. Must've gotten knocked off when I, you know, sprouted freaking bat wings. "Is that there's an eight-legged monstrosity even bigger and badder than the ones that I just saw?"

  Glancing over at Crew, I see him make a fist and then move it up and down, like he's nodding. Other than the alphabet, that's pretty much the only word in American Sign Language that I know.

  It means yes.

  And the way he's pinched his full lips turns it into a fuck yes.

  "And we have to kill it," Trick says, his voice like black velvet brushing against my cheek. He has a sharp, almost wicked sensuality to him. Thing is, he knows it, and it's already starting to drive me nuts. I bet he's the kind of guy who plays the blind card to get chicks, screws them, and leaves. Or maybe I'm projecting? I've been that kind of girl myself. Not the one who gets picked up, but the one who slips out before the sun rises.

  "Fuck if we do," I snort as his wolf spirit curls around his arm and stares at me.

  "If you run forever, your legs will soon give," it says, because apparently Wolf Corpse fancies itself some sort of sage. "It is better to fight on one's feet than live on one's knees."

  "If you're giving a really killer blow job, it's not so bad," I say, and Trick's mouth swoops up into a mischievous little smirk. "I hate your dog-thing, by the way."

  "So do I," he says, closing his tattooed hand over the beast's head. It puffs up in purple smoke and sucks back into the orb on the end of the staff.

  "Can I do the same to her?" I ask, pointing over at Kumo at the same time I'm realizing that I'm being a complete and utter bitch to try to cover up my insecurities. I don't know where I am or what I'm doing here. All of a sudden, I don't even know who I am. My life feels like a tapestry full of loose threads.

  "You can try," Kumo says, her long, white hair sliding over her shoulders to cover her breasts. Certainly it's not an intentional move. I doubt she's ever heard of the word modesty. Not that I believe in it either, but unfortunately, I've been trained by human society to cover up my bits, so I'll probably keep succumbing to the patriarchy and doing just that. One goal at a time. I literally just saw a dragon fly overhead; I am not ready to shirk the mantle of society just yet.

  "Why do we need to kill this devil?" I ask, looking
over at Crew. There's this strange longing inside of me to hear his voice. And not just because it was gorgeous, this deep baritone that stroked some carnal fire inside of me, but because I feel like he'd be an animated conversationalist. "Why am I even here? Not to sound rude or anything, but I was doing just fine before you showed up and knocked me unconscious in my apartment."

  "To be fair," Trick says as Crew narrows his rose-colored eyes at the other man. "You fell and cracked your head which wasn't my fault. Second, do you really categorize a life of pills and denial as just fine? And third," he continues, pushing on and interrupting me as I open my mouth to protest, "the devils have been looking for you for years. It was only a matter of time until somebody found you. Better it was me than them."

  "Because you're my Eyes?" I say sarcastically, and Trick gives me a tight smile.

  "Because of that, yes. Your Eyes, your Voice. We just need to find Jensen, and we'll be ready to rumble."

  "Ready to rumble?" I start, brushing bits of grass off the fine leather pants I took from Crew's house. "When did you leave the real world? Mid-nineties? Because your slang is a little out of date."

  "Hasn't stopped me from getting laid yet," he says, smirking cruelly in my direction. "Why don't you hook into my vision sometime and watch?"

  "Why don't you take me home, so I can get some proper sleep," I snap back, but his face tells me all I need to know.

  I'm not going back. Not yet, anyway.

  "What's the end-game here?" I manage to get out, feeling this overwhelming surge of exhaustion creep over me. It's a lot, to take in all of this new information, to essentially let my world be pulled apart and put back together into an entirely new shape. I might not be freaking out, but that self-control is robbing me of my energy.

  Crew pulls out the journal from his satchel, along with a pen and ink, scribbling out a message and passing it over to me.

  "You become the goddess of heaven, that's the end-game."

  "I'm not a goddess," I say, but Crew just shakes his head no. "I'm not. And I'm not interested in being one. Besides, you dress like a freaking medieval knight. Do you even know what end-game means?"

  "I worked as head chef for Google before I moved here; I know what endgame means." He smiles at me as he passes over this message, purposely tangling our fingers up yet again. I jerk away and curl my hand into a fist in my lap. When he sees that I'm not taking the bait, Crew leans into me and snatches the pen, adding to the open journal page. His handwriting is big and confident and neat. I try not to look it, but I do anyway. How weird is that, to get turned-on over a dude's handwriting? "If you don't kill Jorogumo, then the devils won't learn their lesson, and you will never live in peace."

  I stare at his words for a moment, but admittedly, they're pretty hard to take in.

  I'm supposed a kill a devil which, basically, is a souped up, ultra-powerful version of the demons I've been running from my whole life. And rule number one is to never, ever let them know you know they're there.

  So what if they all do now?

  What if they all know I can see them?

  "If I kill that devil, will it set an example?" I lift my head up to meet Crew's eyes, but it's Trick that answers.

  "It can't hurt," he says, but I don't like the slight waver in his voice. This is a man that's spoken with complete confidence since the moment I met him. He doesn't sound overly confident now. "But I can tell you what will happen if we don't make a stand."

  "Certain death?" I sigh, but the sarcasm falls flat. I don't have the energy for sarcasm right now. Pushing bloodred strands of hair over my shoulder, I catch the expressions on both Crew's and Trick's faces. Kumo, apparently, isn't fazed by much. She just sits there and stares at me like she both hates and worships me.

  It's going to take a while for me to get used to that.

  "Death?" Trick scoffs with a shake of his head, running his fingers through his hair. "No. No, definitely not. Whoever gets a hold of us first will enslave us, and then use our magic to manipulate the worlds in whatever way they see fit. Thing is, most devils aren't really the altruistic type. No, death would be a blessing if they managed to get their hands on us."

  Trick rises to his feet, the tattoos on his toes catching the light as he digs them into the grass and stretches his arms above his head.

  "I'm going to take a look around, see if there are any predator paths nearby. Last thing we need is to camp next to a dragon's nest." Trick takes off through the grass, his staff by his side, and manages to find his way up the small crest of a nearby hill and through a tight cluster of trees without bumping into a single thing. It's mighty impressive.

  "Do I have time to lay my head down and take a nap?" I ask, realizing how right Trick was about needing sleep. Harnessing this wild energy inside of me is hard. Learning that I'm not crazy ... is harder.

  It was easier to accept that I was the odd one out, an anomaly in a world of normalcy.

  Now I feel like the normal one in a sea of weird.

  Crew makes the yes motion with his hand and then slips out of his cloak, laying it across the grass for me. I mutter a small thank you, curl up, and find myself pleasantly surprised when he lays out Trick's cloak over the top of me.

  My plan is to lie there and sort through the mess of my thoughts.

  I don't get nearly that far.

  8

  When I wake up next, it's dark and there's a fire roaring in the small circle of stones. The white bat hangs from a nearby tree, watching me as I sit up and push some hair back from my face.

  "Doesn't it seem like a bit of a coincidence that I created a portal straight through to Crew?" I ask Trick, voicing the first thought that comes to mind. "How convenient is it that without any magical knowledge whatsoever, I'd find my way to a guy I was supposed to be looking for?"

  "It's not convenient at all," Trick says, the orange and yellow firelight playing with the high rises of his cheekbones. He has a well-defined face, but a square jaw. It makes him seem both pretty and masculine at the same time. And that shine on his lower lip, yeah, I really hate that. "Naturally, you'd be drawn to Crew. The magic's only reflecting that." Trick pulls out a pack of cigs and withdraws one with slow, lazy inked fingers. As I watch, he slips it between his lips and leans into the fire, lighting it in a show of bravado that should, quite rightfully, burn off his brows and lashes

  Instead, he leans back with a smirk and exhales, gray-white smoke crawling past his lips.

  "And why is that?" I ask, standing up and bringing the furred cloak with me. It might've been sunnier early in the day, but it's cold as hell right now. "You said you didn't want to be the cryptic background character, right?"

  "Background character?" Trick asks, turning his shaded gaze in my direction. The flames dance in the reflection of the sunglasses, flashing me the pale image of my own face looking back. "I'm not a background character; I'm a love interest."

  The scoffing laugh that tears from my throat makes him bristle a bit, but when I sit down close enough that our thighs touch, Trick doesn't bother to move.

  "Male MC, does that work?" I ask, but he just gives me this totally arrogant male look that makes my fingers dig into the grass. Dickhead.

  "You're the goddess; we're you're ... knights. It takes two pairs of eyes to see evil, two voices to speak curses, two sets of ears to hear the whispers of devils." Trick smokes his cigarette for a long, quiet moment as the bitchy bat thing watches on from a nearby tree. Her stare is intense enough that I have to look away. There's a level of devotion there that I just can't possibly understand, not with the life I've lived. "When you were born, you were gifted my eyes, Crew's voice, and Jensen's hearing."

  "Why?" I ask, because if I'm going to sit here and pretend I didn't have nightmares about waking up with wings, then I better damn well get answers. "Does the ... magic, energy, whatever choose at random?"

  "Magic," Trick says with a small sigh. "And no, it's not random. I told you: you're the goddess, Ten-Tei, reincarnated.
And we're you're knights."

  "Well then, how did you become my knights?"

  Trick tenses up and then stubs his cigarette into the grass. He got a little weird last time we got to this part of the conversation, too. Now, I really want to know what's up.

  "When you gift us back our senses, it amplifies your magic and ours both. That's why it's so important." Trick adjusts himself so that he's sitting cross-legged, laying his staff over his thighs before turning his face in my direction again. "And that's what you need to be able to do in a split-second. It's the only way we'll all get through this without shackles on our wrists and ankles."

  Narrowing my eyes, I run my fingers through my hair and try to work out some of the tangles.

  "Are you really going to ignore my question?" I ask, my stomach rumbling. Trick hears and flashes a small grin, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small leather satchel. When I open the drawstring on it, I find trail mix inside. Thank fuck.

  "I'm not ignoring it; I just know you wouldn't believe me if I told you. Some things are better left alone, don't you think?" Trick pauses and turns his face in the direction of the trees. A few seconds later, Crew appears, coming to sit beside us at the fire.

  He puts his palms together and lays his head against them, nodding in Trick's direction.

  "I think he's saying it's your turn to sleep?" I guess and Crew winks at me. It seemed like Kumo, the bat girl, knew how to speak his particular brand of sign-language. Let's bloody hope so.

  "Nah, we should get a move-on. It was you that really needed the rest. And now that you've got your Sanshi back, we can make better progress." With a ragged sigh, Trick turns his attention to Crew. "I guess we better look for Jensen. If Jorogumo is after us, it won't be long until a more powerful devil picks up the trail."

  "There are worse things than a giant spider monster?" I ask, and Crew does that silent laugh thing again, his big body shaking quietly. He reaches down to his own bag and pulls out a small book, passing it my way. I can't read the words on the cover, but when I open it ... I slam the damn cover shut again. "Considering I just saw a woman with a mouth on the back of her head, I'll take your word for it." There's zero need at this point for me to question if any of this is real. Only a moron would protest in the light of such compelling evidence. Growing wings out of my own back pretty much sealed the deal for me.