Hell is a Harem [Book 1]

by Kim Faulks

  I stumbled past the limbs and took one look at my trampled salt circle. “Wait…the demon.”

  “We know what to do. A blowing wind or a running river,” Jeffries snarled and shoved. “You’re not the only one who can deal with those freaks.”

  And there was that word again, pissing me off. I stumbled, finding my balance as I left the Maddison Court address behind.

  Red and blue strobed in the dead of night. I blinked into the glare and stumbled along the pavement. Perfect tiny pink tea roses bloomed along the walkway. I glanced over my shoulder to the quaint townhouse and shook my head.

  Something had gone very wrong in that house, and I wasn’t talking about the severed limbs or the mountain of demon dung left to rot and stink. I was talking about the reasons why.

  Sigil showed me the way. Showed me everything. And it was glorious.

  The rear door of the police door opened, Jeffries waited as I climbed inside before he slammed the door.

  Red and blue, that’s all I saw…but it wasn’t all I felt.

  Harbor was changing, growing…morphing into something more than a place of safety for Supes and witches like me. Voices filtered in from outside. Jeffries stood, chatting, taking his sweet-ass time. One glance my way and I realized it was for my benefit. The bastard was trying to push all my buttons.

  And any other night, I’d rise to the bait—but not tonight.

  Perfect pink roses turned purple under the blue glow. Last week was a riot of witches. Right winged called out the left…and the show-down was catastrophic.

  Five buildings had been leveled, and two city blocks were destroyed. And all this had played out in front of humans for their prime time fucking enjoyment.

  The Circle was still cleaning up the mess.

  And they were pissed.

  The bark of laughter tore me from the memory. Jeffries roared, slapped his buddy’s shoulder, and then turned, catching my stare.

  I shoved my spine into the back of the seat and stared straight ahead. I wasn’t playing, not with him…and not with anyone—not tonight.

  The flutter of movement caught my attention. White flared like a neon sign against the endless dark, falling from the night sky in one swift descent and then disappearing behind the towering building across the street.

  A second later, one wing peeked out of the shadows. Perfect pure feathers caught the faded light as Gabriel leaned out and waved like a damn school girl.

  “For fuck's sake,” I muttered…as if my night couldn’t get any worse.

  Gabriel took a step, and then another. His long coat brushing the ground as he moved, and from the sewn slits in the shoulders, massive wings stretched into the air.

  The night breeze whipped his long pale hair from his shoulders and ruffled the opening of his coat. He was bare chested, sculpted muscles rock fucking hard. The man looked like a god. Heat flooded my body and lingered between my thighs as the driver’s door opened and Jeffries finally climbed in.

  He adjusted the rearview mirror. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

  He wasn’t sorry.

  He was never damn sorry.

  He found me in the mirror and then turned his head to follow my gaze to the quiet city street. “What are you staring at?” He glanced right, left, and waited.

  “Nothing,” I muttered.

  But Gabriel was gone from the sidewalk, taking refuge in the shadows once more. The engine started with a growl, and we were moving, pulling out from the sidewalk.

  Titus stepped from the doorway as the patrol car pulled out into the street. He raised his gaze, finding me in the backseat, and for a second I swore his lips moved, mouthing words that gripped me like a vise…help me.

  Chapter Two

  This night wasn’t for the faint of heart. Harbor Metropolitan Police Station was alive and kicking…after all—I lifted my head, dragging in the moon’s power, and smirked—it was the witching hour.

  Sergeant Jeffries was right up my ass like a G-string, pushing and shoving, rubbing me raw. I lifted my gaze to the four-story Goliath of a building and then focused on the entrance as the automatic doors opened.

  The place was packed. Street-corner lovers waited against the wall for processing. One of them was cuffed, another, dressed in knee-high fuck-me boots, showed more flesh than she covered. She gave me a smile, and then a wink. “You wanna wait with me, sweetheart?”

  I couldn’t stop the smile, but I shook my head.

  “I want this…this…witch brought in, at least….can you do that?” Thinks she can get away with it. Steal my man. I’ll bind her…bind her until the bitch can’t breathe…weigh her hands down with a hex…the river…that’s where I’d put her…no one would find her…ever…I followed that voice and turned my head.

  “Move,” Jeffries snapped, and shoved my shoulder.

  Sunshine yellow filled my gaze as I stumbled forward. The young hedge witch leaned over the counter brandishing a CD like a weapon at the young desk constable. Her long pale-yellow dress was wave on top of wave, flowing like she’d tapped into the sun itself. “She gave him a CD filled with enchanted music!”

  The officer just looked at the disc in her hand. “Listen to what I’m saying, please. For the hundredth time, I’m really sorry your boyfriend is gone. But there’s no law against giving someone music.”

  “So, what you’re saying is the home-wrecking bitch can get away with manipulating someone’s thoughts just because she wants to?”

  Steal my man…steal my future. Hex her…hex her and bind her and bury her six feet under. I’ll destroy her…and her damn coven of black-hearted bitches.

  Her thoughts pushed into my head. Jesus, I thought I had a dark side.

  I couldn’t stand the tirade, not a damn second longer, and, as the officer slid the CD across the bench and turned away, I leaned in. “Listen here, Stevie Nicks. The fact that she could steal your man is a testament to how weak your bonds are. Maybe…now, this is just a suggestion…” I opened myself up to that dark power inside and whispered. “Strengthen your own bonds. You wanna bind someone? How about binding your lover to the damn bed and fucking his brains out?”

  She flinched with the words, and slowly turned her head. Honey-brown eyes sparkled as she took it all in…the short red hair, the tight black top and black leather jacket. “My name is Simone,” she whispered.

  “Whatever,” I muttered and licked my lips, drawing her gaze to the motion of my tongue, and whispered. “Forget about the witch, she means nothing to you…your man…that’s all you care about…all you see.”

  “Leon,” she murmured and took a sudden breath. “I need to get back to Leon.”

  I gave a nod and leaned backwards. “Sure you do, he’s probably wondering where the hell you are.”

  Panic surged like a damn tsunami in her eyes. She jerked her gaze toward the officer and took a step away. “I’ve got to go,” she muttered, spun on her heel and took off, yellow dress flapping wildly as she tore through the waiting room like a shooting star.

  “That’s the way, Stevie,” I murmured and turned to find Jeffries' cold, hard stare.

  “Thought it was against the law to influence another's thoughts?”

  The weak-ass smile was pathetic. “Influence? I just gave a mere suggestion…no harm in a little girl talk, now is there?”

  A nerve pulsed against his temple. I didn’t need to delve into the cesspit of his mind to read his thoughts. Fuck, he really hated me. Jeffries gave the desk officer a side-glance and jerked his head. “Okay, empty them, let’s see what else you decided to steal from the crime scene. Remind me to watch the damn silverware when you’re around.”

  The smirk on my lips died. The remark stung. I didn’t have to remove anything, didn’t have to comply. Didn’t have to do a damn thing if I didn’t want to. It wasn’t as though someone was gonna make me.

  They’d have to touch me first.

  Remove the jacket…show me those tits.

  The words were a damn blast throug
h my mind. I didn’t raise my gaze, only delved into my jacket pocket and pulled out a set of silver knuckles and placed it on the counter. “I’m getting this all back, right? And my shotgun…just so you know…”

  Brows rose on the constable behind the desk as I delved back in and yanked out a small can of black spray paint. “For spraying sigils.”

  “Mmmhmmm,” clucked Jeffries. “Keep going.”

  The vial was next, red blood glistening under the overhead lights as I placed it on the counter.

  “I’m not even going to ask,” Jeffries snarled.

  The shiv was next, smooth, leather-wrapped handle, with the blade carved from obsidian stone. But it was the rattle that drew most of the stares in the waiting room. Metal cracked against glass as I drew the long, thin bottle free. Rusted nails banged against the side as the murky amber water sloshed. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard. Cries of anguish filled the room.

  “What the fuck is that?” The constable raised his hand and leaned in.

  “Wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” I warned. “Those nails there? Ripped from the hands of a thousand-year-old witch.”

  He flinched and yanked his hand backwards. Fingers cracked against his chest as he jerked his gaze to mine. “Why the fuck would you want something like that?”

  “It’s War Water,” Titus’s throaty growl came from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, catching the intensity in his gaze. “And it’s used by locking the supernatural inside. Isn’t that right, Lorn?”

  Gone was the hint of a smirk, gone was the almost-teasing tone in his voice. He was all business, staring into my eyes, almost daring me to say anything.

  I wondered, what did he see when he looked at me now?

  Did he see the monster, instead of the woman?

  He leaned closer, glanced at the objects on the counter, and motioned toward the desk officer. “You want to finish up with that?”

  A plastic evidence bag was handed over. I took one look at the thick rubber gloves that came next and sighed. The jacket came off, leaving me shivering under the blast of the air conditioner overhead.

  Rosemary beads clattered as I worked the bracelet from around my wrist and started on the other. Amulet after amulet was unbound, my third eye, a raven’s claw, and my protection talisman given to me by Gabriel, and dropped into the open bag.

  “That it?” Titus murmured.

  I gave a shrug and grasped my jacket from the counter. “I travelled light tonight. But I want my—”

  “Shotgun…yeah, I heard you,” he growled and stepped away.

  I gave Jeffries one last glance, and then turned. Titus waited, motioning me forward with the sweep of his hand. I carved through the waiting humans and supes, making my way to the elevator.

  I glanced toward the front doors and rethought this entire thing. I didn’t have to be here, not with these bogus damn charges. But only one thing kept me in line…only one thing that kept this big mouth of mine closed.

  And in a second, I was back there, sitting inside the police car listening to Titus’s unspoken plea.

  Help me…

  Those words resounded clear as day inside my head as the elevator gave a ping and the doors opened.

  “After you,” the Inspector murmured.

  I stepped inside, scanned the foyer as he followed, leaned over, and pressed the second-floor button. I pressed my spine against the cold steel wall and waited.

  There was something Titus wasn’t saying, something that coiled like a damn snake inside that gorgeous body. Muscles flexed under his shirt as he leaned backwards and waited for the doors to close.

  A tremor raced through my body. Inside my head, this was playing out all fifty goddamn shades of red; pushing me hard against the wall, calloused hands cupping my breasts, head lowered, finding my nipple. The flurry of movement happened in a split second—inside my damn mind.

  The reality was painfully boring. He sighed, took a step to the side, gave me a glance with those perfect blue eyes, and then found the damn floor.

  Awesome.

  I reached for my left hand, rubbing my palm, as the elevator shuddered and shook, and then came to a bone-jarring halt. The doors slid open. I waited for him to motion before I drew in one deep breath and exhaled.

  The second story was quieter, that’s for sure. I followed him along the hallway of closed office doors as we headed for the row of interrogation rooms.

  I tried to remember how many damn times I’d been here.

  A lot. Especially in the beginning, when people like me were branded the enemy. It was a tough way to learn which damn side you belonged to, one side shoving you, another pulling.

  Thank the Goddess for Alma.

  The wrinkled, pot-smoking, gun-toting, free-wheeling witch was a damn blast to learn from, and she was also my grandmother.

  It was all about free love with that one. Guys, girls…didn’t matter to Alma—love was love. Why do I have to choose? She'd mutter with a cheeky wink, and she’s counting down D-day one damn lover at a time.

  “This one,” Titus called behind me, dragging me from the only memory of family and home I have.

  A torn piece of paper hung askew on the front of the door. Block writing read, Re-wiring in progress. Use other rooms. I glanced along the corridor to the cracked open doors and the darkened rooms, and then turned to the room.

  Okay, no cameras…no microphones. What the hell was going on?

  “Don’t mind the sign,” He murmured. “it’s only the cameras.”

  I stepped inside and waited while he flicked on lights and closed the door behind me. It was a standard damn room, two chairs, a table. CCTV cameras hung out of the wall, wires exposed. So this wasn’t a trick.

  “I wanted a little privacy, thought maybe up here you’d talk a little more freely.”

  I skirted the table, dropped my leather jacket over the back of the chair, and took a seat on the opposite side. “Sure,” more like so you can talk a little freely.

  A file hit the tabletop with a slap. “The drug you decided to pocket, have you ever seen that before?”

  “No, you?”

  He wasn’t rising to the bait, only opened the folder and flipped through the pages before he lifted his head and gave me those blue eyes. “It was from the crime scene, wasn’t it? That’s where you found it.”

  I leaned my arms on the desk and held his gaze.

  Perfect lips pursed, drawing my focus to the flex of his hard jaw. He sighed, lifted his hand, scratched the dark stubble on his chin, and then raked his fingers through short, tousled hair. “Just tell me one thing…did you take it?”

  “The drug? Fuck, no.”

  Drugs were a hard line for me, and it wasn’t because of perfectly aligned morals.

  Dark power seethed inside me, hungry and hunting…all the damn time. I kept the witch inside me under control…barely. The thought of my power uncontrolled was fucking terrifying.

  “Good,” he muttered, and leaned back against the chair.

  “Don’t tell me you’re worried about me, Inspector,” the words were throatier than I intended, and filled with need.

  I’d thought about Titus more than once.

  Thought about how his skin would taste under my tongue, thought about how it would feel to be the sole focus of that powerful gaze.

  But humans…now, they were messy.

  Don’t get me wrong. I like sex…hell, I fucking love sex…it just doesn’t love me. I wanted a powerhouse of a man. Someone with enough stones to not just call me his, but to deserve all I had to give.

  But all I seemed to attract was clingy, needy men that really didn’t want me at all—not the real me.

  I was a damn hurricane…but it was the only way I knew how to be.

  And when their own self-created spell fizzled dry along with the lust, they saw the sweat-stained sheets for what they were—a good fucking time.

  Still, they waited, hoped, and prayed I’d be…something other than this.


  That was the worst part. Standing there, seeing hope in their damn eyes, as though they were just praying for the stroke of midnight to come and turn this train-wreck of a woman into a princess.

  But there was no princess…and when midnight came, they left…usually screaming and cursing.

  Yeah, sex…I dragged in the faint scent of Davidoff’s Cool Water and gazed at the open collar of his shirt.

  “This stuff is bad, Lorn. Really bad, and tonight wasn’t the first case we’ve seen. There’ve been others. Supes going crazy…there's something out there, something coming. I can feel it, and I think you can feel it, too.”

  I dragged in his scent and felt that rise of energy…my heart squeezed, clenching tight to send a shudder through my chest.

  Thud…thud…thud.

  My pulse pounded like the heavy echo of boots, drawing me into that vision once more.

  Fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered overhead.

  I never shifted my gaze, never moved from those ice-blue eyes, and out the snatches of darkness the true reason came to me.

  A shadow grew from behind the Inspector, reaching up and out, until it swallowed the room behind him. And out of the gloom, a chuckle slipped free.

  The gold wedding band filled my head, falling end over end through the dark.

  “Having trouble at home, Inspector?”

  I kept my voice steady, watching that vampiric cloud as it gripped the Inspector’s shoulders.

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  That words vibrated, sending a shudder through the darkest part of me. I closed my eyes and opened myself up to the magic. “Got anything to do with the reason why you’re not wearing your wedding ring?”

  And still that darkness grew, filling half of the room.

  “Lorn?”

  Darkness rolled and roiled. I opened my eyes, and couldn’t look away as the shadow swelled, filling the room like a cloud of volcanic ash. And out of the dark depths came a chuckle…cold, daring…filled with the promise of pain and torture.

  That chuckle nailed me to the spot. I couldn’t turn away, couldn’t stop myself from falling…