Mates & Magic: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance Box Set Collection

by Jade Alters

  I light about a dozen candles and I spread out my favorite tablecloth for spells on the floor. That’s one of the things that my dad used to do that I keep doing just out of habit. He thought it was bad luck to spill magic ingredients on the floor. You never know what might mix together and cause some strange bit of magic that you didn’t plan on, wreaking havoc in your house. When you’re done, whether you’ve spilled anything or not, you wash the tablecloth in vinegar, and it neutralizes the magic elements.

  I spread out all the ingredients on my cloth around the cauldron; peacock feathers, roseheart weed, seven coins that are more than ten years old, sodalite crystal, four real pearls, two red candles, a goat heart…

  I put on some calming music without vocals. That was another thing my dad always insisted on. He said to put on music that calms the soul to even out the magical properties of the caster.

  The purpose of the spell is to attract romantic love, real romantic love. If I do this right, the guy I’m supposed to end up with should fall right into my lap. I just have to “measure twice, cut once” as they say. But I’ve gone over the spell multiple times, and I’m feeling confident that I can pull this off.

  There’s no guarantee of who exactly the spell will attract, but I’m imagining Ted as I get my ingredients ready and take deep breaths, studying the chants I’m supposed to recite. He hasn’t always been a jerk like he was today. I’ve had a pleasant conversation with him. Sure, he seems boring and maybe a little douchey, but that office environment puts all of us under a lot of pressure. I’ve been short with people too when I’ve had a heavy workload. I’m not holding that against him. He’s also flirted with me before. Enough, at least, that I think there might be something there between us.

  I’m also thinking of the antique stores guests though as I get ready to cast. The very idea makes me laugh. For one thing, I’d put down money that they’re all gay. I don’t like to generalize usually, but four guys running an antique store? I’m pretty sure they also live there together. Still, the way they looked at me, it’s enough that I’m going to be having some happy thoughts tonight when I’m alone with myself in the dark.

  Whatever happens, I will be attracting the one if I can pull this off. Then maybe my mother will finally leave me alone. Better yet, I will have that partner I’ve always wanted. I’ve always pictured myself living in a big house full of laughter and conversation; casual dinners and playfulness. I’ve actually tried to recreate that with roommates before, but it’s never been quite right. Now I just live by myself in a small house that I rent for a decent price. At least it’s a house. I’ve never liked apartments. But sometimes it’s so empty and quiet, the lack of noise makes me more lonely than anything else.

  But if Ted or someone a lot like him can come along because of this spell… Well, it’s hard not to think I might get the life I’ve always dreamed of. My family will approve, and I’ll get my own house full of laughter. I just have to make sure I do this correctly.

  I finally start the spell, adding ingredients carefully, one after another. I’m halfway through the recitation of a chant when I hear a door slam upstairs, and it startles me. Then I hear my mother’s shrill voice call out.

  “Doraaaa!” Her voice always goes up at the end, and it drives me crazy. What drives me crazier is that I gave her a key for emergencies only, and she uses it whenever she wants to just come over and drive me up the wall.

  This is the worst possible moment. She knows I’m home because my car is in the driveway and now she’s going to hunt all over the house until she finds me. I’ve been telling her I don’t use magic and if she finds out I do, I’ll never hear the end of it. I groan and hop to my feet, blowing out the candles. They shouldn’t have an effect on the spell. It’s not ideal to stop in the middle, but, as far as I know, it shouldn’t make a difference if I’m able to finish within the next day or so.

  “Mom!” I’m out of breath when I slam the basement door behind me and my mother whirls around. She has a helmet-shaped head of dyed chestnut hair, and she is always wearing a turtleneck, slacks and a blazer like she’s going to a business meeting in a lodge or something. It’s kind of like Upstate New York chic, I guess. Her makeup is perfect, and she looks me up and down. I see the corners of her mouth tighten. I know she has some kind of problem. My boots are slutty or my eyeliner is too heavy. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to borrow that book from you,” she says with raised eyebrows. She plucks them too much, and they’re thin, little lines that make her look excessively surprised all the time. But that also seems like something she’d say to me so...fuck my life, I guess.

  “What book?” I say, shrugging.

  “The one about Alexander Hamilton? The biography? That inspired that musical?”

  “You mean...Hamilton?” I smirk a little. It’s fun when I get to mess with her. “That musical?”

  “Yes, smartypants. That musical.”

  “Okay…” She does get little whims like this sometimes. She’s probably just bored though. She follows me into my living room, and I find the book on my shelf. When I turn around to hand it over, she’s sitting on my couch.

  “My day was absolutely exhausting.” She rubs her forehead. She’s just gotten her nails done in a pale peach shade and all her little rings match.

  “Here’s the book,” I say flatly. “My day was exhausting too so...I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

  “Do you know my lawyer is flirting with me?” Her eyes light up. I am never going to get out of this. “I mean, my God, the man must be twenty years younger than me—”

  “More like thirty,” I crack. “There’s no way Justin was hitting on you.”

  “You didn’t see him,” my mom says, looking pleased as punch. “He gets this look in his eyes.”

  “Really? Was the look in his eye while he was convincing you to redo your estate again?”

  “Well, you have to be careful with trusts, dear.” She wags a finger. “And then there’s your father—”

  “Mom, I’m really tired. I need to go to bed. If you don’t mind—”

  “Oh my Lord, you are the most ungrateful, most inhospitable person I have ever met!” It sounds dramatic, but she says stuff like that all the time, and now she pops up with the book under her arm and leans over to kiss each of my cheeks and smile as if everything is peachy. Which, to her, it is, I guess. “Okay. I’ll see you soon, dear.”

  “We’ll see,” I mutter, as I usher her to the door.

  It takes another ten minutes to actually get her gone, and then I pound down the steps, back down to the basement to complete my spell. I relight all the candles (just in case) and put the calming music back on.

  I feel rattled, though, and it’s not good to be in a rattled headspace when you’re casting a spell. But I do some breathing to try to calm myself down. I start the recitation over and add the rest of the ingredients and recite some more and then the spell is done. I watch the brew fizz up into a nice mauve foam. That’s supposed to mean it worked. I have no reason to think it didn’t.

  I take a deep breath, but I feel a little...off. Maybe it’s just because I haven’t done magic in a long time. Besides that, my mother always puts me in a sour mood. But I go about cleaning up my ingredients and take everything back upstairs. I fill a dishpan up with white vinegar and put the tablecloth in there to soak. I put all my ingredients away and then I pour the brew out and scour my cauldron with steel wool.

  When I’m all done, I take a hot shower because I feel like I’ve needed it all day. I meant to give myself a little pleasure tonight to take the edge off—maybe with the help of one of my battery-powered boyfriends—but I’m just too tired tonight. When I finally climb into my bed, I’m thinking about the spell and dreaming about living in a big house full of laughter. But as I’m falling asleep, it’s the four hot guys in the antique store who are laughing and being playful, and just the thought of it is enough to make me smile as I drop off into dreamland.
/>   Dora

  In the morning, I wake up feeling pretty good. I’m feeling like this spell is going to work. I’m hoping it will work on Ted. I’ll marry the handsome lawyer, I’ll bring him to that wedding, and I’ll drink Bloody Marys at the country club while he golfs on Sundays. Sounds pretty good to me, to be honest. Who knows the hidden depths of Ted? I don’t, but I’m more than willing to find out.

  I get myself going earlier than usual this morning. Normally, I give myself some time to laze around in bed. But this morning, I get right up and into the shower. I pick out something nicer than usual to wear. I just got this calf-length leather skirt and a few new sweaters for fall, and it’s about time I busted them out. I pick out some sparkly earrings that look like crystal autumn leaves and a particularly pretty scarf. I wear booties that look good with the skirt and I take a good long time with my make-up. I give myself a smokey eye and I go dark with the lipstick. It all looks pretty fantastic with the hair if I do say so myself.

  When I walk into work in the morning, I get a few compliments and I make myself a latte at the coffee cart. Today, I’m not going to let the hustle and bustle get to me. I’m going to take one thing at a time and remember to breathe.

  I see Ted talking to a couple other assistants near his office, and I hover nearby, sipping my latte. Nothing really gets started until nine and we all get in at half-past eight to warm ourselves up for the day. I linger on the fringes of his group, and I’m about to say good morning to everyone when the phone rings once at my desk.

  I sigh to myself and turn, intending to answer it, when Ted stomps over and gets right in my face, looking angrier than I’ve ever seen him. “Dora! Are you deaf? When the phone rings, you better fucking answer it!”

  Everyone freezes and nobody more than me. My shoulders tense up around my neck. Ted has been short with me before, but nobody in my entire life has ever talked to me like that in the workplace. This office can be stressful, but it’s not the kind of place where people just blow up over nothing. If anything, everyone is excessively polite to the point of having not much personality, and then everybody just chats casually about yogurt or whatever. But people don’t scream. Not ever.

  Everyone is looking at Ted, deadly silent. He’s not the boss, that’s Mr. Harrington, and he’s only in the office about half the time. But Ted is an associate, of course, and totally outranks me and everyone else standing anywhere near him so nobody is here to tell him off for screaming at an assistant like that. Instead, we’re all just staring at him, but he’s only staring at me.

  When the phone rings once more, he snarls, “I swear to God if you don’t answer that phone right fucking now—”

  That jolts me into action. I hate that it does, but he’s scaring the shit out of me. I rush to my desk and grab the phone, still gaping at him just a few feet away.

  “Har-Harrington and Associates,” I stutter. “How may I, um, help you? Please?”

  They just want to leave a message for Mr. Harrington, and it’s not remotely urgent. I take the message for them, which could easily have gone straight onto Harrington’s line, and sit at my desk with my latte, keeping my head down. I don’t know what the hell kind of bug crawled up Ted’s ass, but I don’t want to get on the wrong side of it again. Honestly, I’m perfectly within my rights to report him to HR. Not that it’s a fun thing to do, but he’d probably get a pretty good talking to for treating me like this, and I’ve got witnesses.

  Ted glares at me a little longer like he’s just trying to mad dog me and finally goes into his office, and I unclench a little. I don’t even know how I’m going to get around him today. I take a few deep breaths, but my hands are shaking. I’m just not used to being screamed at. I get up calmly, go to the bathroom, and breathe some more, just standing still in the quiet and holding back a few tears of tension. At least I’m not really crying. I’m too angry at Ted to cry. I’d rather, I don’t know, punch him in the face or something, if I ever got the chance. Yesterday, I sulked. Today, I don’t want to sulk.

  I grab myself water in the break room and go back to my desk, answering some emails and making some requested travel agents for Mr. Harrington while I calm myself down. The rest of the morning goes smoothly enough, and I even interact a few times with Ted and it’s uneventful, which makes me feel a little better. I have to think he’s going through something and that’s why he was so upset. I’m probably making too many excuses for him, but I generally like to assume the best about people (except for my mother).

  After lunch, I see Ted go back into his office and he looks pretty relaxed. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to clear this up with him. We’re not the best of friends, but we’ve been friendly. It’s just the past couple of days that’s he’s been...well, a total asshole.

  I wrap softly on his door and step inside because it wasn’t closed. Ted is at his desk but he’s sitting back in his chair with a can of Coke in his hand. He looks up at me when I walk in, but I can’t read his expression.

  “Yes, Dora?”

  “Hi, sir.” I smile genuinely but not too big. “I just wanted to make sure we were okay? After this morning? You seemed a little upset with me and—”

  “What do you need?” He says curtly. “I’m pretty swamped right now.”

  “I just...wanted to make sure we were okay? Or if there was some reason you were upset with me?” I clear my throat and stand up straight. “If I’m honest, you had no reason to be angry with me this morning. It was out of line, Ted.” I cross my arms, pinching my elbows. I hate confrontations like this. I cross one ankle over the other as I stand there.

  If I’m honest, I’m definitely waiting for an apology, and it better be good. He has to know that I could report him to HR if I wanted to. He is a lawyer and our HR department is decent. They don’t just go sweeping things under the rug.

  “What are you doing?” Ted says, narrowing his eyes at me. “What are you doing right now?”

  “What—”

  “The way you’re standing there,” Ted says, waving his hand at me. “I see the way you’re pushing your breasts together. You’re trying to seduce me into what exactly?”

  My jaw drops and my stomach turns over. I drop my arms and shake my head. “I’m...I’m not—”

  “I see the way you look at me,” Ted says, looking steadily at me. “You practically throw yourself at me.”

  I can’t even speak. I just keep opening and closing my mouth like a fish. The thing is, as much as I’ve imagined the idea of Ted and me, I’ve never once explicitly hit on him. Never once, and never anything even close to it. I’ve only chatted with him casually, and until very recently, he’s been friendly. But this...I don’t know what this is.

  “Get out of my office before I report you to HR,” Ted says, practically hissing. “Get out!”

  I’m reeling. My heart is pounding and my hands are shaking from the adrenaline rush that courses through my body the moment he accused me of, what exactly? Seducing him into something? Into what?

  I hate how scared I am, but I flee from his office like my skirt is on fire. I don’t go to my desk that sits right in front of his office. Instead, I all but run to the bathroom, yet again. I lean on the sink, taking deep breaths. I splash a little water on my face and dab it off and stand there for a couple minutes, just trying to calm myself down.

  It’s only then, as I manage to compose myself, that it occurs to me that something might have gone terribly wrong with my love spell. True, Ted was rude to me yesterday, but it was nothing like this. This is some causeless rage and the accusations of trying to seduce him border on the delusional. It’s possible something is legitimately wrong with Ted, except that I seem to be the only person he’s treating like this. That makes me think it’s spell-related. I thought the spell was cast successfully, but I did get interrupted in the middle. Perhaps something went terribly wrong.

  I look at myself in the mirror and stand up straight. I look alright. I didn’t cry, so my eye make-up is good. I
swallow and shake out my wrists. I don’t like that I ran away from Ted, but I’m not sure what recourse I had at the moment.

  I decide I need to revisit that magic shop just in case my problem with Ted really is down to some weird magic fluke. The guys there, while intimidatingly hot, also seemed pretty knowledgeable about spell-casting. If anyone can help me, it might be them.

  Brett

  Ten years ago, actually the day after I graduated from high school, my mother and father drove me out from Connecticut to Coleridge to a forest. They were so excited that day. They told me they had a surprise. I honestly thought they were buying me a car, and I was trying not to get my hopes up for more because what I wanted much more than a car was my own little sleuth of other bear shifters my age. When you come of age as a shifter, you can either stay with your family’s pack or join with a new one. It’s sort of like the difference between living at home and getting your own apartment. There’s nothing wrong with staying in your family’s pack, but sometimes a guy just wants to strike out on his own with other guys his own age. That’s what I wanted to.

  I still remember it like it was yesterday, the moment my mother pulled up in front of this strange, giant house. I was eighteen-years-old. Nathan was only twenty-one. He was the alpha, and he already had two other guys in his pack who were just slightly younger. Grant and Jesse had grown up together outside Coleridge, and they already seemed like buddies. I remember being so excited and nervous when I shook Nathan’s hand for the first time. My new alpha. And days later...it was like we’d known each other forever. For a few years, the four of us worked odd jobs, living in the house that Nathan had inherited from his family. We didn’t have many expenses, so it was easy to save money. It was Nathan who wanted to start a business and had always liked the idea of reselling furniture. He thought things went to waste too often. But the real business would be the magic shop. The four of us practiced magic now and again and studied it plenty, and there was no good magic shop anywhere near Coleridge. The antiques seemed like a hot market for the town, but the magic shop is the real business.