The Witch's Familiars_A Reverse Harem Fantasy

by G. A. Rael

  The younger Danbridge swallowed audibly and looked away as Tina came out of the room in a black-and-white Puritan costume. The scowl on her face as she examined herself in the mirror made it clear what she thought of her new look.

  "I think their tongues are tied," Cindy said dryly, breaking the heavy silence. She smiled approvingly as she looked over Jordan’s costume, tugging at the beaded waistband. “They did a nice job on the alterations. I think it’s perfect.”

  “You look beautiful,” Darren said gruffly, even though his eyes were set on his friend. Evidently, Jordan wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Max staring.

  “Thanks. I just hope it’s not too cold at the festival,” she said, eager to change the subject.

  “Well, I’m burning up!” Tina complained, fussing with her apron. “What is this thing made of, wool?”

  “It’s historically accurate,” Cindy said in an innocent tone, clearly enjoying her sister’s distress.

  “I think you look nice,” Jordan offered. “It’s very…eye catching?”

  Tina’s cheeks filled with air as she glared at her own reflection. “I’m not wearing it.”

  “There’s no time to change the order now!” cried Cindy.

  “Well, then have them take the hem up a little. Make it sexier.”

  “There’s no such thing as a sexy Puritan!”

  Jordan ducked back into the room to change before the debate became the next world war. When she came back out, Darren and Max were talking to each other, albeit guardedly.

  "How about we take some beers out onto the terrace? This could go on for hours," Max said, nodding to his aunts who were still arguing about how much skin a Puritan woman was allowed to show.

  Darren cast a wary glance at Jordan. "If you're alright with it."

  “Yeah, sure,“ she said, confused by the implication that she shouldn't be. “The fresh air would be nice.”

  Max nodded. "Go ahead and show yourselves out, I'll be up in a minute."

  Darren motioned for Jordan to follow him as he led her through one of the winding hallways and out onto a veranda.

  "Wanna tell me what that was all about?" Jordan asked once she was sure they were alone.

  “Cindy and Tina? They’re always like that.”

  “I’m talking about Max.” She got the feeling he knew it, too.

  Darren shrugged. “I’d tell you if I knew."

  Before she could call bullshit, Max walked out onto the veranda carrying a six pack. He leaned back against the railing, seemingly careless of the steep dropoff behind him. Once everyone had a beer in hand, Jordan found herself wondering if alcohol was going to be enough to ease the tension that was even greater than it had been inside.

  "So," said Darren, "Lauren couldn't make it?”

  Max shot him a dirty look, but it was nothing compared to the one he’d given Jordan earlier. “She’s busy.”

  Jordan couldn't help but feel like the simple statements held more information than she was privy to. “So, Lauren is your girlfriend?” She felt absurd asking such an obvious question she already had the answer to, but it was clear neither of them was going to further the conversation.

  "Ex-girlfriend," Max corrected her, taking a long gulp of beer.

  "What?" Darren asked sharply, his entire demeanor shifting. "Since when?"

  "Since tonight.”

  "What the hell happened?"

  "If you two want to talk alone, I can go inside," Jordan offered.

  "Stay," they said in unison.

  Jordan blinked. Men were so fucking weird. “Okay…”

  “There’s not much to tell," Max said gruffly. “Just didn’t work out.”

  "Bullshit," Darren said with such fervor it made Jordan jolt. "You've been together for years. How the hell did it 'just not work out' after all this time?"

  Max shrugged. "I realized I couldn't commit the way she needed me to. Figured she deserved to know that now since she was thinking of waiting to go to grad school so she wouldn't have to leave town."

  "You were thinking about proposing the last time we talked! Exactly how much more of a commitment is there?"

  Max cut a sharp silhouette leaning against the railing with slicked back hair and a careless posture, but the deep sadness in his eyes was what really reminded Jordan of James Dean. “I’m just being realistic.”

  Darren's eyes narrowed. "No, something happened. This isn't you, something changed. What the fuck did you do?"

  "Darren," Jordan murmured.

  "It's fine," said Max. "I deserve the judgment. Yes, Darren, I did exactly what you're thinking. Lauren was the best thing that ever happened to me and I threw it all away for a girl I don't even know. Happy?”

  Darren stared at his friend for a long moment with an unreadable look on his face. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but each time he started, he ended up just shaking his head. Finally, he muttered, “I hope she was worth it.”

  "Maybe she is," Max mused. "Doesn't matter. Turns out she's got a boyfriend. That's karma, I guess."

  Darren rolled his eyes. "No, that's what happens when you throw away a good thing for a one-night stand." He sighed. "Maybe it's not too late. If you talk to Lauren, maybe she --"

  Max shook his head. "This was bound to happen sooner or later. I've known Lauren wasn't the one for a while. Guess I just loved her enough to think maybe I could force it, but you can't buck destiny forever."

  Darren's eye twitched. "Don't blame the fact that you can't keep it in your pants on unseen forces. You've always been the one person in this town I can count on to be above that bullshit."

  Ouch. Jordan winced, but it did seem like a copout to use fate as an excuse for infidelity.

  “Call it the family curse,” Max muttered. “Thought I was smart enough to outrun it, ignore it, maybe even change it if I fought hard enough, but it was all a wash. Like my grandad always said, only two things are sure in life: Taxes and fate."

  "I thought that was death," said Jordan.

  "We Danbridges are stubborn enough to find ways to cheat death from time to time,” Max said, smirking. “Fate is another matter.”

  "So what, this girl you don't even know is your soulmate now?" Darren asked, clearly unimpressed.

  "Something like.”

  Darren let out an exasperated sigh. "I think I've heard enough. Call me when you're sober and ready to discuss an actual solution to this clusterfuck you've made for yourself."

  Jordan reluctantly followed him to the door. Leaving under such tense circumstances felt wrong, but staying wasn’t an option. She waited until they were on the road to say a word. "I know you're just worried about Max, but why are you so angry at him?”

  Darren sighed. "I'm sorry you had to see that, but trust me, this isn't the first time Max and I have gotten into it and it won’t be the last.”

  "Then why are you friends?" she asked, bewildered.

  Darren snorted. "It's the people who mean the most to you who piss you off the most. Especially when they're hurting themselves."

  "I wouldn't know," Jordan admitted.

  He glanced doubtfully at her. "Well, it's true. When someone you don't care about is being a dumbass, you can just laugh. When it's your best friend, you kind of have to say something."

  “Max is your best friend?" The idea of someone as stalwart as Darren having a best friend was oddly adorable.

  "We never bought the matching bracelets, so it's hardly official."

  "What does all that destiny talk have to do with Lauren?" she asked.

  Darren rolled his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. "The Danbridges are a glorified cult. They've bought into all that skull-and-bones stuff. Hell, they've been here long enough, I guess they probably founded that club too. They've always had this weird theory that each person in the family line is destined to be with a specific person."

  "A soulmate?" Jordan clarified.

  "For lack of a better word, yes. They all believe it to so
me degree. Even Henry, as shrewd as he is when it comes to matters of the town, is convinced that he was put here on this earth to be with Cindy and her alone."

  "That's sweet," Jordan murmured. "Not that I think that's true. I mean, maybe for them, but not for everybody."

  He gave her a knowing look. "I'm not saying you can't feel an unexplainable connection to someone. I just think it's more important to choose to be faithful to someone because you love them, not because some supernatural pull prevents you from cheating on them. So did Max, until now."

  "Oh," Jordan said, beginning to understand his agitation.

  “He’s always hated his family’s superstitions. As long as I’ve known him, he’s been railing against the idea that you’re born into a role and you have to stick to it. It’s just hard to accept that he’d throw all that away after working so hard to build his own life.”

  “I mean… I can’t say I disagree with you about the cheating, but how do you know he’s interested in this new girl because of his family? What if it really is destiny?”

  “It’s just hard to explain,” he muttered. “The Danbridges have their own brand of woo.”

  “They’re not witches, are they?” Jordan felt absurd asking it, since Darren made his disdain for everything supernatural clear, but the way he was talking certainly sounded like it.

  He balked. “No. Of course not, they’re… I don’t know what they are. I just know it’s crap, and they use it to control every member of the family who starts going his own way. We left cave paintings and blood sacrifice behind for a reason, but they’re still holding onto prehistoric superstitions like a child clinging to its favorite doll."

  "Maybe letting go isn't as easy for everyone as it is for you," she said, trying not to take offense at his words. Sometimes Darren could be so sensitive, and others it was like he had no idea how what he was saying might affect anyone else. "Maybe those superstitions as you put it are just more real to some people than they are to everyone else.”

  He scoffed. "What Max had with Lauren was real. Anyone who's actually naïve enough to believe some sky god sifted through billions of unremarkable humans to handpick a mate who's perfectly matched to them, and just so happened to end up on the same hunk of earth, is an idiot.”

  Jordan flinched and her best attempt not to take offense came to a crashing halt. "If that's how you feel about Max, I can't imagine what you think about me."

  "Jordan, that's not what I meant," he said quickly, glancing over at her.

  "No, it is," she said, keeping her voice steady. "And it's okay. I guess I'd rather know how stupid you think I am."

  Darren's knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel. "You're not stupid. It's different when it comes to you."

  "Why?"

  "Because you were brainwashed," he said matter-of-factly.

  Jordan was quiet for a long moment, sinking deeper into her seat. "I think I liked it better when you just thought I was an idiot."

  “You told me yourself that you're not even sure you really believe anything."

  "Wishing I didn't and not believing are two different things, Darren."

  He pulled into the small lot outside of Mrs. Herrin's home and sat in silence for a moment. "I'm sorry. Like I said, I haven't been in a relationship for years and there's a reason for that. I've never been good at navigating my own feelings, never mind someone else's."

  "It doesn't matter," said Jordan. "Just please go easy on Max. What he did was wrong, but you make a better friend than a judge.”

  "Jordan, wait," he pleaded, leaning over to stop her when she reached for the door. "Let's talk about this."

  "I think we've both said enough for tonight," she murmured. "Like they say, never talk religion and politics.”

  He hesitated. "At least let me walk you to the door."

  "I can handle the trip,” she said flatly, closing the door behind her before he could argue. "Goodnight, Darren."

  "Goodnight…”

  Jordan felt him watching her as she walked up toward the house. She could see the headlights in her peripheral vision as he waited, but to her relief, his car passed Mrs. Herrin's lot once she opened the screen door. There was no light under the older woman's door, signaling that she had already gone to bed.

  Jordan turned on the lights in her apartment and left her purse and shoes at the door. It was times like this she wished she kept alcohol on hand, but decided it was probably a good thing she didn't. That had always been her mother's go-to solution and yet it had never seemed to solve any of her problems.

  She was tempted to fall into bed, dress and all, but finally reached for the back of her zipper and began the arduous process of tugging it down. It was damn near impossible to reach on her own, but she hadn't anticipated being alone at the end of the evening when she chose it from her closet.

  "Let me help with that," came a low, purring voice from behind. As soon as Jordan opened her mouth, a hand closed over it to muffle her scream.

  Seventeen

  Jordan bit down hard and blood rushed into her mouth. She heard a string of profanities as she lunged for the dining room chair and cracked it over the intruder’s head.

  At some point, she was really going to have to set aside her hesitation about dark magic and learn a spell that could Judo flip someone in an instant. Small-town life was not shaping up to be as peaceful as she had imagined.

  “Stop!” The voice was much too soft and not nearly low enough to be Darren's. Jordan looked down at the man on her floor and realized it was Hermes, nursing his bleeding palm as he glared at her like she was the one who’d broken into his apartment for the second damn time.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed.

  “Me? Since when are you auditioning for the WWE?”

  “You broke into my apartment! You’re lucky your hand is all that got hurt.”

  He watched her, smirking as he stood. The bleeding had already stopped and he flashed her a glimpse of his fully healed palm as if just to annoy her. "You and your unlocked doors, silly girl. I take it from the fact that you're home alone on a Friday evening that there's trouble in paradise?"

  “That’s none of your business,” Jordan said, folding her arms.

  "But I thought we were friends," he crooned. "I told you I'm free on full moons. You should’ve known I'd pay my favorite little witch a visit sooner or later.“

  Jordan thought of arguing with his use of the term but decided it was a moot point and flopped down on her bed. She didn't trust him at all, but at the same time, she couldn't see him as a threat. Her intuition hardly ever seemed logical, and yet she couldn't point to a time when it had been wrong.

  Then again, there was a first time for everything.

  “I wasn't expecting you until the equinox."

  "I thought I'd check in and see if you'd given any thought to my offer," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Have you?"

  "I've thought about it," she admitted.

  “Do you even remember what it was?”

  ”You would raise my mother and brother from the dead and, in return, you'd become my familiar and get to be a human whenever you like."

  "That's the long and short of it," he said patiently, folding his hands in his lap. "And your answer?"

  "Absolutely not."

  Hermes appeared offended, but it was hard to tell when he was sincere. “And here I thought it was a compelling offer. Generous, even."

  "It was," she said. "That's why I have to turn it down. There are a lot of things about my upbringing that I know now were wrong, but one of the things that's stuck with me is the knowledge that if something seems too good to be true, it is. I also know that ‘familiar’ is just another word for ‘demon.’”

  His mouth tilted into that crooked little smile that would have been enticing if it wasn't so damn menacing. "So there is a limit to your naiveté. I'm relieved."

  "You knew what my answer would be," she realized aloud. "Why did you even bother coming here?"


  He shrugged. "I was in the neighborhood. I caught the tail end of your fight with the curmudgeonly yet dreamy doctor and thought you might need someone to talk to. Plus, it never hurts to ask a second time."

  Jordan watched him for a long while. "For some odd reason, I actually believe you."

  He smiled. "I might be a self-serving entity, Jordan, but I'm not malicious. Unlike some," he said with an accusatory glance at the ceiling. "Believe it or not, I've grown attached to you, Jordan.”

  "Why should I believe that? I met you barely two months ago." At least he wasn't still calling her Alyssa.

  "As I said when we met, you may not know me, but I've been watching over you since you were young," he said coolly, examining his white nails. "Even a creature like me is capable of forming an attachment over time. I chose you carefully, after all."

  "Excuse me for not being flattered, but if you're trying to impress me by claiming to be my guardian angel, you've done a pretty poor job."

  Rather than the cutting retort she expected, he gave her a strange, almost sad smile. "Like you said, ‘familiar’ is another word for ‘demon.’ While I make no apologies for what I am, I can promise that I'll never lie to you."

  "And why should I believe you?"

  "You shouldn't," he replied, taking a step forward, "but you do. Way deep down inside that precious little heart of yours, past the God-shaped hole and the quaint little dream of being the doctor's wife, you feel it. The connection. The kinship. The fact that, no matter how many years you spent on your knees, you have more in common with a thing like me than with all those saints who burned in your father's tent that night.”

  Jordan flinched as Hermes touched her face, but his nimble fingers dug into her flesh with surprising strength. "You can lie to yourself, little witch, but I never will," he purred, gentling in tone and touch as he caressed her cheek. "I'm not like the other men in your life. I won't exploit you or force you to be anything you're not."