Dark Moon: Fae/witch paranormal romance (Hells Gate Book 1)

by Terina Adams

  “Pretty and a sharp tongue. A good combination.”

  “Come any closer Fae, and I’ll show you I’m more than a sharp tongue.”

  “I don’t need to be any closer, Witch, to see that.”

  Selene came down a step in front of Jet. She didn’t trust Jet to keep this from deteriorating. “Why are you here? You’re trespassing on witch land. This is an act of aggression.”

  “No, Witch. I haven’t even started with my acts of aggression.”

  Jet pushed past Selene. “Selene, don’t bother. You can only deal with the Fae one way.”

  “So tell me pretty little witch, how do you deal with a Fae?” He reached a hand behind as if grabbing something from within his belt. When his hand reappeared, it held a blade. Not a blade for dicing carrots. This one was designed especially for hacking at meat.

  “So you want to play.”

  “With you, Witch, I certainly do.”

  “This is not a good idea, not now.” Selene hoped to head off a catastrophe. She'd sunk them in this mess but couldn't think of a way to dig them out.

  Jet moved off the steps and paced toward the big biker. He would likely try to use his mental mojo, but Jet would be thinking the same thing, so no need to warn her. The Fae shifted the knife to his other hand in an easy manner as if to indicate he didn’t feel threatened.

  “I may be half your size, but I wouldn’t take me so lightly if I was you.”

  Christ, that girl had to learn to zip her lips.

  He laughed. “I’d take you any way I could, little witch.”

  Apparently his smart remark raised her hackles, for she began to harness the elements, Jet’s little trick. The charge of energy woven through all things heeded her call, building, prickling along Selene’s arms. The wind picked up in increments at first. She pulled through the elemental stream and the pressure dropped, funneling the wind on a steep gradient. With a swirl of her hand, the wind vortexed around them.

  The Fae watched her, his blade stilled in his hand. He seemed neither worried nor fearful of what was about to happen. Instead he focused on Jet, his green eyes following her gentle hand movements. Selene expected him to attempt some form of mental jarring, something to prevent Jet from succeeding, but he remained motionless, watching.

  The wind was in Jet’s control. Its roar surrounded them, drowning all sound. She lifted it just above the ground, so only floating leaves were sucked into the spiral. Apart from the noise and those markers, there was little else to signify its presence.

  She whipped up a mini tornado, while they sat comfortable in the center. She lifted her hand and began to curl her fingers inward to a fist. As she did so, the vortex grew smaller. Starting meters in diameter, it shrunk in increments. Soon it passed over them, but Selene shielded them both from its power with a simple spell of deflection. Narrower it went, until it consumed the Fae. Now it ran with unrestrained velocity around him, ripping his shirt from his jeans. He struggled to remain standing against the immensity of the force, throwing his arms out for balance. When he did the wind caught hold of the blade and ripped it from his grasp. With a flick of her wrist, Jet angled the wind and sent the blade falling to her feet.

  As quick as the wind appeared, it vanished, taking the roar with it, leaving all standing in silence. The Fae smirked. The last thing Selene expected to see.

  “And now, Witch, you pay.” He started toward her, but Jet began focusing her intent again, this time the energy came from the ground up through Selene’s feet. She gathered it quicker this time, calling forth powers of the earth. The ground started to vibrate and the Fae looked down, wearing an appropriate expression on his face, more worry than fear.

  Behind them the stone cottage shook, and the Harley’s fell over. Jet was showing off with this one. Before Selene intervened to save the windows of the cottage, Jet slammed her hands together, palms facing, before drawing them apart. The ground followed her command and split, the rock tearing like a gaping wound. The Fae fell, but only as far as his waist before Jet slammed her palms together again, burying him.

  Jet dipped down to pick up the blade then walked toward him with a swagger.

  “At what point do you expect me to pay?” She stopped at the perimeter of his reach, her hands on her hips.

  “Impressive, Witch. But will you be prepared when I come for you.”

  “Big words for such a small man.” She crouched down, resting her elbows on her knees, the blade hanging loose in her hand. “It seems to me you’re buried in a few problems and won’t be bothering anyone any time soon. Maybe when your friend is finally free, some time tonight, he can get a spade and dig you out.”

  “Or maybe I can dig my own way out.” His smile was anything but friendly. It was a warning. Selene should’ve stopped Jet before she kicked him in the gut with her acid words. Now they had two Fae on their tails. Not a comfortable tail to have.

  She crossed the distance to Jet, intent on pulling her away from her goading, when the Fae clenched his hands in front of himself, raised them into the air and brought them down hard and fast, slamming his pseudo-hammer into the ground. The earth shook and the impacted ground fractured around him, the fractures radiating outward to Jet’s and Selene’s feet. Jet stood, her face a mask of shock.

  Selene grabbed her arm. “Come on. We’ve got to get out of here.” Selene pulled her toward her car as the Fae slammed his fist into the ground again, more fractures erupted, the original ones widening by centimeters.

  “Where are your keys?”

  “Did you see that?”

  “Jet, your keys, we’ve got to go before he’s free.”

  “I’ll drive.”

  They both ran to her car. Selene jumped in without a backward glance, but Jet stopped at her open door, gazing in wonder, or so it seemed. “Get in. We’ve got to go.”

  Her command propelled Jet to move. She slipped in, threw the blade in the back, started the engine and floored it down the drive, spitting gravel behind.

  “Who would’ve known the Fae could do that?”

  “Something tells me we’ve just made everything worse.”

  “If your plan was any better, you should’ve spoken up.”

  “I didn't have one. That’s the problem.”

  “By the way, you can thank me for rescuing you. If you were by yourself when the other Fae turned up things would’ve got ugly.”

  “Actually, I’m not sure about that.”

  “Huh. Selene, there would’ve been two of them.”

  “Something tells me Locke wouldn’t let his buddy hurt me.”

  “Locke. Oh, you mean the guy bound to your bed. What were you doing with him anyway? I know there was no kink involved because you were both dressed, unless your idea of kinky has plummeted during your dry spell.”

  Jet was like a battering ram when it came to extracting information. There was little point evading her questions, as she was likely to drive around town in loops until Selene confessed all her dirty secrets.

  “I hoped to discover the whereabouts of Akasha and find out why they wanted her.”

  “With him pinned to your bed nursing a hard-on the length of a baseball bat—I hope you noticed that, if not, you’re in deeper trouble than I thought.” She was silent a moment. “And I’m going to tell Dami I was right.”

  Selene frowned.

  Jet glanced at her for a few seconds with a shrewd smile. “About the length. You know. Big boys with—”

  “Jesus, Jet. In case it slipped your notice we’ve just pissed off some Fae. They’re not going to go away quietly and lick their wounds, because they have none. We didn’t have much impact on them.”

  Jet reached her hand over and ran a finger over Selene’s forehead while still managing to steer the car. “You worry too much It’s going to give you premature wrinkles.” She pulled her hand back. “Okay. You’re right. So, the secret is so secret not even the Fae know the secret.”

  “What?”

  “Someone must kno
w.”

  “Yeah, the King, but I don’t think we’ve got much chance there. Locke thinks his son might know, but he won’t be that easy to reach either. I wish you never took the blade. It looks like something he’ll want back.”

  “Yeah, well, after my little performance back there he was always going to come calling.”

  “We need to get together with Dami and Nyx and work this through. The only option I can see at the moment is to follow them and hope they lead us to where she’s hidden.”

  “Damn, girl, are you feeling all right? First you run off on your own to seduce a Fae, now you’re all for trailing their asses all over town.”

  “This time we may have a chance to save this girl.”

  “I’m with you there, hon.”

  11

  Locke glanced over at the sound of laughter. “I knew it would be your hairy ass that showed up.”

  Holt came in shaking his head, his laughter dying to the occasional chuckle. “Man, she’s done you real bad.”

  “She hasn’t done me at all, and my balls ache.”

  “You were the dumb fuck who landed yourself here. You can pay the price.”

  “Compassion was never in you.”

  “Neither you, so stop your moaning.” Holt began fishing in his back pocket.

  “Whatcha doing?”

  Holt revealed his cell and held it up chest high. “I’ve got to get this one. I figure it’s worth a couple of thrown hands at the poker table, which reminds me you were missed. Tray is going to strip your flesh.”

  “I found a better offer.”

  Holt chuckled again. “Looks like it, man. Being humiliated by a witch is not my preference. You’re such a sucker. She’s just a piece of ass and you let yourself be screwed over.”

  “I wish I had.”

  “So what did she offer for you to allow this to happen?”

  “Nothing in words.”

  Holt pulled a chair from the kitchen table over to the bed and sat heavy.

  “I know you’re not dumb. You’re one of the shrewdest fucks I know. So I’m thinking she put a spell on you to make you all doe-eyed and useless.”

  “The only spell she used was to bind my arms.”

  “Do I want to keep asking?”

  “No.”

  “Jesus, fuck. She’s got you.”

  “Not as much as I plan to get her.”

  “What with a bed dragging behind you?” Holt doubled over laughing, finding himself really fucking funny. Ha Ha.

  “And you’re immune? What about the other witch? You could've had her, but you chose not to twist her mind.”

  “Two made things a little tricky. As it is one of them will know my wrath very soon.”

  “Good thing you left the other one alone, or I would’ve used your blade to shave your balls.”

  “She’s got a hold of your dick, and you can’t see it.”

  “I have a score to settle with her and nothing more.”

  “Besides, you’ll have to wait till I get it back.”

  It was Locke’s turn to laugh. “She disarmed you?”

  “With a flick of her wrist.”

  “Looks like we’ve both been stung.”

  “Don’t include me in your love nest. I’m gunning for revenge. I’m gonna show her how us Fae like to entertain, then I’ll screw with her mind.”

  “Big talk from a guy who lost his blade to a girl.”

  “I’m not the one bound to a bed nursing blue balls. Anyhow, how do I get you out?”

  “You don’t. The spell lasts twenty-four hours. I’m guessing this will be over around midnight.”

  “You’re lucky it’s only twenty-four. So do I have to spoon feed you or what?”

  “Are you going to sit there being a shit for the rest of the day?”

  “Yeah, thought I might.”

  Locke rolled his eyes and turned away.

  “So what is it about this one that had you follow her all the way out here and allow her to perform her witchy mojo on you?”

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Well, you’d better immunize yourself real quick before Wyman finds out.”

  “One night should cure that.”

  Holt humphed.

  “What was that for?”

  “No woman’s dragged you this far.”

  “I didn’t know about the binding, okay. Do you think I would've laid myself out like this if I knew she could do that?”

  Holt chuckled and shook his head. “Jesus man, anything for a bit of tail.”

  Perhaps it was best to let Holt believe his dick had led him out here. Truth was, his dick played half the part and something mysterious played the other half. He’d yet to work out what the mysterious was. Maybe he didn’t want to.

  “Can you get us a drink?”

  “No way. I’m not feeding you. If you hadn't scared your witch, she would've tended to you.”

  “That was your doing. Just as I was getting somewhere, too.”

  “Yeah, showing her you’re a complete soft cock.”

  “If you’re going to be such great company then you can piss off back to the club. I’ll make my way home when I’m ready.”

  “Thought I might hang for a bit. Who’s going to protect you if she decides to return.”

  “I don’t want you here if she does.”

  “Then it’s you and me for the next twelve hours.”

  “Just turn the television on will you.”

  ‘There ain’t one.”

  “Fucking great.”

  12

  Selene’s eyes opened. When she saw the day, she ducked her head under the covers and tried to curl herself into the fetal position, squeezing her eyes shut. Where had that dream gone? The fragments still lingered, but when she chased the feelings, they became entangled with the mundane and real—the very messy and embarrassing real. God Dammit.

  She'd lost it. The tangible experience of the dream vanished, leaving her hanging.

  She threw back the duvet, shoved her feet into her slippers and stormed out of the bedroom. A hot cuppa would soothe her irritation.

  Jet phoned Nyx and Dami after the return trip yesterday, calling a gathering of the coven ASAP. The news had to be shared straight away, apparently, every gory detail. According to Jet they needed to be prepared, about everything, every-little-thing—or big in this case—including a description of what was kept in his—and by extension all the Fae's—jeans. Jet trumpeted her correct assumption, and Dami rolled her eyes.

  This morning Selene was left nursing an embarrassed ego and a frustrated body. Her dream left her wondering if she’d made two mistakes the other night. Her biggest was meeting Locke, the second luring him to her cottage. He now had a mud map to her secret hidey-hole and a vendetta against her. She’d planned on using a forgetful spell to rid his memory of their time together, but the plan was vacuumed up Jet’s wind spout, and now Locke haunted her dreams.

  This was not her. Not the sensible High Priestess of a powerful coven, whom the elders relied on.

  He was Fae. End of story.

  And he was coming up her veranda steps.

  “Holy shit.”

  Through the long window in the lounge room she could see Locke mount the last step heading for her doorbell. She turned and scooted back into her bedroom. The clothes she wore yesterday lay slung over the bottom of her bed. They would probably smell. As the doorbell rung, she flung open her wardrobe and eyed her clothing. These are bloody dresses, what the hell are you doing?

  She abandoned those and ran to her tallboy, yanking out the third draw. Jeans meant business, and a high collared shirt. You don’t need to look like a nun. In the second draw she rummaged for a suitable t-shirt, finding one with the words “Fuck It” stenciled across her chest, which Nyx had given her for her birthday. What am I wanting to portray here? Besides he’d have to look at her breasts to read it. Is that a bad thing? Jesus, of course it is. She put it back. It wasn’t really her style a
nyhow.

  The bell rang again. “Shit.”

  She jumped around her room trying to yank her jeans up. Then, with button and zip still undone, she searched her smalls draw for the right kind of bra. The lace ones looked good, although they weren’t the most comfortable. Black ones meant she would be restricted with her top choices.

  This time he knocked. The lace would have to do.

  She shoved a simple white t-shirt over her head and zipped then buttoned her pants. Oh shit. Her reflection in the dressing mirror told her she slept rough, so she grabbed a hair tie and, with a few brushes, pulled it back into a ponytail. She hadn’t even brushed her teeth.

  She took two breaths and smoothed her hair, checking for bumps, before yanking open the door. “What do you think you’re doing here?” She even managed a frown.

  He was leaning against the doorframe. His eyes roamed her body first before he replied. “Returning your car.”

  Her mouth inched open. “Oh.” Then she frowned. “How?”

  He scratched his cheek. “Drove.”

  “I mean how did you start it?”

  He smiled.

  “Have you damaged it?”

  “Nothing I can’t fix.”

  “Well, I guess, thank you.”

  His smile broadened. Selene stood unsure of what to say next, as all the pieces from her dream reappeared, carrying the feelings with them.

  “Are you going to let me in?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I did you a good turn, and I thought that was the sort of thing people did for each other when they were grateful.”

  “So you want to be a part of the human custom now.”

  He sighed. “Selene.”

  Oh, that did bad things to her. Her body hijacked her will and moved herself aside. He was quick to take the invitation.

  He loomed into her small lounge room, looking around as he had at the cottage. “Your surroundings are important to you.”

  “And you’d do well to keep your opinions to yourself.”

  “I’m just trying to get an understanding of you.”

  “Why?”

  They both stood facing each other at opposite ends of her cozy space.