Hell is a Harem [Book 1]

by Kim Faulks

  “Titus…” I moaned and eased back against the pillow.

  “You okay?” He lifted his head and pushed further, as the other two stared.

  “What the fuck is going on?” I tried to snarl, and stared at the three fucking stooges.

  Black eyes blazed with fire…hellfire. The memory rushed back. A hellhound. The one from the club. Stay with me. Lorn…stay with me.

  His voice filled my head. He knew my name…I stared at the familiar surroundings of my apartment and the eerily familiar scent of hound returned—looks like he knew a lot about me.

  He had one fist tangled in Gabriel’s shirt, the other cocked in the air, ready to unleash. Heaven and Hell were at war, and there was Titus between the two, leaning over the bed toward me.

  He brushed a hand across my forehead and touched my cheek. “I thought we'd lost you there, for a moment.”

  “No thanks to you, hellhound,” Gabriel growled. “I’ve a good mind to send you back where you belong.”

  “Oh yeah?” The hellhound sneered. “I’d like to see you fucking try. I’d send you back. But no one wants you up there, do they, Gabriel?”

  I tried to lift my hand, tried to still the fucking schoolyard brawl. “What the hell happened?”

  “You don’t remember?” Titus murmured, and I shook my head.

  Soft light spilled into the room from the window, hugging the outline of the three men crowded around my bed. I tried to think…tried to remember.

  The night. The night and the music. Neon blue lights danced in my mind. “I went to the club…Shift.”

  “That’s right, where we broke in,” the hellhound snarled, sounding pleased.

  I lifted my head, catching the heat in his gaze. “You were there…”

  He dropped his head, “Rival, at your service.”

  Rival. He knew my name…knew other things about me. I couldn’t worry about that now. Memories called. “Dancers, people acting strange…bald head.” I stiffened, nails spearing into the soft covers under me, before I found Titus. “He was there…the demon you’ve been searching for. He was right there.”

  He flinched at the words and eased backwards. Anger flashed in his eyes…anger and panic. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Godamnit, Lorn! Is that why you went there without me?”

  He was angry…more than angry—he was furious. He tore his gaze from me and turned from the bed, took a step, and then turned. “You could’ve been hurt…don’t you understand that? You could’ve been killed.”

  I’d never seen him like this, pacing…panicking. I stared at the open collar of his blue denim shirt. He looked nice…really nice. The dinner. That’s right.

  Memories rushed. The call…my panicked attempt. Jesus, no wonder he’s pissed. “I ruined your night. I’m sorry.”

  He jerked his gaze to me. “You think I’m angry because you ruined my night? Jesus Chri—”

  “Hey,” Gabriel barked, eyes narrowing…danger lashed and sparked inside the room like a tempest. “Leave Him out of this.”

  The room stilled as the morning sun seeped in. There was a breath, and then careful words as Titus tried once more. “I’m not angry because of the dinner. I’m not even angry because of the fucking demon, although I would’ve loved the opportunity to nail his ass to the wall. I’m angry because of the sheer…goddamn stupidity…of you going into that place without me.”

  “Or me…” Gabriel cut in, focusing that glare on me now.

  “She had me,” the hellhound started, before Gabriel jerked his gaze toward those blazing eyes. “One more word, mutt…one more fucking word and I swear…”

  White shone as the hellhound bared his teeth. He took one more look at Gabriel, and then Titus, before testing the archangel’s short fuse. “Your demon is dead, human, as is everyone else in that warehouse.”

  “Warehouse?” Titus snapped, and turned toward the others. “What goddamn warehouse?”

  Rival dropped his gaze to his shirt, entwined in Gabriel’s fist, and waited.

  The archangel gave a sneer and then slowly unfurled his fingers.

  “The warehouse where they took her and fed her the damn drug.”

  Titus straightened his spine. His hand twitched, as though he needed something to hold…like a gun? “You followed her in there and didn’t stop them from forcing drugs into her?”

  “I would’ve killed them before that could happen. But by the time I got there, it was too late. They gave me the slip after they took her, some damn witch with a penchant for fucking roadblocks.”

  Witch…some witch.

  Leather skirt, fish-net stockings. Beauty mark on her upper lip.

  He loves me. More than my husband ever did. More than Titus. “It was your wife…Titus, it was your wife.”

  He froze, eyes boring into Rival, then slowly turned, and it was as though his entire world had fallen away. “What?”

  “I saw her…she was with the demon…Alastor, she called him.”

  “One of the first-level demons,” Rival muttered. “I smelled him when I got there…saw the mess.”

  “She’s alive…at least, she was when I saw her. I tried to save her, tried to bring her back to you.”

  Sadness filled his gaze. “She’ll never come back. Not now, probably not ever. She left because she was different. I tried to tell her it didn’t matter, tried to tell her I loved her no matter what she became. But it wasn’t good enough…I wasn’t good enough.”

  Pain speared through my head as I shoved forward. My feet hit the floor. The room wobbled, but I was fucking determined, and that beat agony hands down.

  I took a step, and then another, closing the distance. “Listen to me. You are good enough. You’re plenty good enough. You never gave up, not once…not when she left you with an empty house and a broken heart. You’re a good man, Titus. A damn fine man, and she has no idea what she’s missing.”

  But I do.

  The thought made my hand tremble as I touched his cheek. He was so warm, so alive…so real…and here. Bleeding from the heart all over my damn life. I scared him…I scared them all.

  I lifted my gaze to Rival. “And you. You’ve been in my apartment. Don’t bother to deny it. I want to know why?”

  There was a sly grin. Those bottomless eyes burned with the kind of hunger that could set me on fire. “You called me, or don’t you remember?”

  I shook my head as he broke away from Gabriel. Long, slow steps made me quiver as he approached my side. He moved fast, lunging forward to capture my wrist. There was no fighting him—even if I'd wanted to.

  He held my gaze as he lifted, thumb caressing the side of my palm until he leaned in. His lips pressed against my knuckles, nose nuzzling the flesh of my palm. My curled fingers grazed his face, unfurling to touch him.

  Desire flared. There was something about him, something that called to that danger inside…I knew what that whisper was now…what name it called.

  His lips met the marks on my palm, and this time there were no scratches gouging the skin. There was the sigil, pulsing, calling. Soft, warm lips met the mark, and heat flared.

  “You called me,” he murmured. “And I came for you.”

  My body tightened, breath stilled. Sex and hunger raged in his eyes.

  Someone cleared their throat, but I couldn’t turn away…not from him…

  “You two want a damn room?” Gabriel snarled.

  A breeze cut through the room, buffeting my face as he moved his wings. I turned, finding a look of distaste on Gabriel’s face. “You know there’d be room for all of us in here if you could tone it down a little.”

  Rage was savage in his gaze. This wasn’t the perfect, mighty archangel.

  He didn’t want me.

  He’d made that perfectly clear many…many times.

  And now…now he just looked sullen and damn moody. What the hell was his damn problem?

  He flapped his wings, sending a gust through the room. Papers scattered, shattered glass flew through th
e air. A thick shard was a missile, carving through the air right towards…

  Rival lashed out, fist clamping around the sliver before it reached his face. The hellhound shifted his gaze, giving Gabriel a wicked smile. There was a snarl and then movement, before Gabriel was gone, without so much as a goodbye.

  The room felt empty…I felt empty.

  “Thank the darkness for that,” Rival murmured, and tested the muscles in his shoulders, then he turned to me. “Now, as I was saying.”

  I dropped my hand, aching with the loss. He didn’t want me. I knew that. Knew it to my core. Still there was a hole in my heart…a place kept for him. “I want answers…and all of them.”

  Rival flinched, glanced toward Titus, and then shrugged. “Sure, okay. Fire away, what do you want to know?”

  “I want to know what you know about this drug, who’s making it? Who’s distributing it, and what it’s made from?”

  He shook his head. Power slipped along his tongue…from his lips…to my heart. “You’re asking all the wrong questions, Lorn. You know better than that. You are better than that. The real question you should be asking is why. Why the drug…what is its purpose, what was it designed to do?”

  You’re here. You’re finally here.

  Those words took flight as the hellhound lowered his voice. “It’s made from blood…Lucifer’s blood, and he’s calling…searching for someone.”

  “Who?” I whispered.

  He gave a shrug. “No one knows.”

  I shook my head and clenched my fists. Calling them to hurt them? Take them back to Hell? Was it a demon? A hound? Thoughts raced through my head. It could be so many reasons. None of them would give me the rogue wolf shifter I was hunting, or help find Titus’s runaway wife.

  “Who’s distributing this?”

  “I don’t know. That’s all I have,” the hellhound answered.

  His gaze never left me as I walked away. I needed Gabriel…needed Alma…I opened my hand and stared at the markings on my palm…the triangle carved down, with an X in the middle. I needed answers to what was happening.

  I reached out, trailing my finger along the lines to the curled V at the bottom. It was a sigil, nothing more. It wasn’t a mark…something temporary from the drug.

  “We have to shut it down. All of it…everything.”

  Titus dragged me back to the moment. “I agree. Witches…demons…and damn wolves. Where will it stop?”

  “It won’t, not until he finds what he’s after,” Rival answered, and glanced around my room. “Not until the Lord of Darkness rises and takes what’s his.”

  A tiny figurine lay shattered on the floor. I bent and gathered the pieces. It was a tiny dark witch, given to me by Alma. The heir to the Lord of Darkness wasn’t me…I knew that. I stared at the broken pieces in my hand—not me…I knew that. “So we find them before he does. We hunt them, just like any other job.”

  “And we start with the drugs, who’s distributing. If they’re focusing on one area, one damn city, then that’s where we focus.”

  I wrenched my gaze to Rival. “Is it just this city?”

  He nodded, taking a step closer to kneel in front of me. “Yes, it is. I’d feel them if there were others.” His hands curled around mine holding the broken pieces. “But don’t you think we should entertain the idea?”

  “What idea?” Titus growled, and then looked from Rival to me and back again… “Well? Someone going to answer the question? What damn idea?”

  “The idea that Lorn is the one they’re looking for.”

  The answer was fucking insane. Lucifer sure as hell wasn’t looking for me. I rose from the floor, gripping the ceramic shards.

  Titus’s eyes widened, he stilled. He’d never even entertained that it could be me. He had that much faith in me. I stepped back, placing the broken figurine on the dresser. “I don’t want to consider it…no. But I will, if I have to.”

  “Your father,” Rival started, moving closer.

  I shifted my stance, moving from one foot to the other. He made me nervous when he was close, and not in the creepy way…but in a falling way…like he felt too good…too attractive. I clenched my fingers closed, fighting the urge to touch, to search, to love.

  His blue eyes sparkled with desire…he felt it too…this undeniable current. I swallowed hard and looked from one to the other. A shudder shivered along my spine.

  Darkness lapped the sides, threatening to spill…

  He moved in, reaching out with a soft brush of his finger along my arm. Electricity raced, arcing and sparking as he lowered his head.

  I closed my eyes at the brush of his lips, warm breath against my face. It was soft, tender…trembling with desire.

  The kiss came once more. Demanding, and urgent.

  Forcing my mouth open.

  Forcing my pulse to speed.

  His hard body moved against mine. The brush of my arm became more, fingers dancing, searching…touching my palm, and the sigil came to life.

  He broke the kiss, moving away long enough to whisper, “I want you…and I’m good with any way you want this to happen…with the human…hell, I’ll even stand by if you want the damn archangel. Just don’t shut me out. Don’t…choose.”

  Hunger filled the room…mingling with desperation. They were lonely just as lonely as I was. I gave a nod, the terms were set. However this went down, he would be by my side. “Just take it slow, okay?”

  Embers took flight in the fire of his eyes. “Slow, fast…however you want it. All you have to do is give me a sign and I’m all yours.”

  But there was more than just him here. More than one I wanted. Panic filled Titus’s gaze as I turned toward him. He never glanced at Rival. “That’s good. You need someone. You scared the shit outta me, Lorn.”

  He was fighting this dark undertow of need—we all were. He tore his gaze away, eating the spell. “It’s not safe…not out there, not for you. So you need to be even more careful than usual.”

  My throat clenched, choking my words. He jerked his head high, pain savaged those beautiful eyes. “I mean it. Me or…or Rival, here. Someone needs to be with you.”

  I caught the grin as Rival nodded. “I’ve got nowhere else to be, so I’m all yours.”

  He made the point, but I was seized by the broken-hearted man shattering like the tiny figurine. “What about you?”

  I took a step closer and caught the flinch. A nerve pulsed beside his eye. He was so worn, so rough and unshaven…perfectly human. “What do you mean?”

  He wanted me to work for it, wanted me to force him to decide. It’s okay…I was never the most patient person. “Are you all mine?”

  The room stilled. Heartbeats thundered in unison, blending into one another. Titus glanced from me to Rival and back again, and then shook his head. “I…ah…I don’t do this…not anymore.”

  Don’t do what? Love…cruel, raw love…

  I stepped closer and reached for his hand. There was no pushing this, no forcing anything. We wanted what we wanted. And for a second, Alma filled my head, her and her long string of lovers. Maybe I was more like her in one way.

  But I didn’t just want lovers. I didn’t just want a warm body next to me in bed. I wanted his feelings. I wanted his pain. I wanted him.

  Steps shuffled as Rival moved closer. “She’s into you, dude. Look at her. She can’t stop looking at you.”

  Titus stilled, glanced at me…he was still a child under all this muscle and power. A fucking terrified child. I'd tried to kiss him before, and he’d run.

  Rival stepped away, moving against the wall, leaving the path wide open. I knew what he was doing…there was no contest here—no fight.

  “You can stay,” I murmured, “if you want. You don’t have to go back there to that house. You can stay here with me…I can make up the sofa. I can order in. We can make this work.”

  “And me,” Rival cut in behind me. “I can cook one mean omelet.”

  His hand shook as Titus reached fo
r his hair. It was such a nervous move.

  “I don’t know about you, but I could do with some food, and we still need to search that warehouse,” he sighed.

  He dropped his hand. His chest rose, and then fell with a heavy breath. And, just like that, the desire was shattered, and we were back to where he was comfortable.

  “There’s a killer little Asian grocery store two streets over,” Rival muttered. “I’m going to go and grab us some things to eat. No offense, Lorn, but frozen meals and a quarter of a bottle of vodka just won’t cut it.”

  “Half a bottle,” I snarled, and then turned my head. “There was half a bottle last time I looked.”

  He gave a shrug, and that sly smile grew a little as he turned for the door. I scowled after him, listening to the heavy thud of his boots as he made for the front door. But I couldn’t be angry, not when he'd had an opportunity to push Titus into making a move—and decided not to take it.

  “Lorn,” Titus murmured, and lowered his gaze.

  He couldn’t look at me. Power moved inside me, surging to the surface, calling out the liars and the saints—calling for truth.

  Even if it was a truth that terrified us.

  “I don’t know what to do here. Don’t know what you want…hell, I don’t even know what I want. But I know what I don’t want…” Shards of pain echoed deep as he lifted his gaze and whispered, “I don’t want to go back to that house…ever again.”

  “Then don’t go back. Stay with us. We work better as a team. Now it can be a team of three.”

  “We need to go back to the warehouse,” I murmured. “I want to search the place, there has to be something there. Something that gives us an idea where your wife is.”

  Titus lifted his head, and that was all it took to switch from the man to the Inspector. “I just want to know she’s safe. Just to know she’s okay.”

  I smiled, my heart pounding, and not from jealousy—but because of pride.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You okay with this?” Titus growled, glancing at the locked eight-foot-high gate, and swung the bolt cutters up.

  He was the one risking his job, risking everything, and yet he was worried about me? Something had softened between us. There was a need as he reached for my face and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.