Shadow Kissed_A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance

by Sarah Piper

  “Okay,” Norah said, her smile still a little too tight. “Be right back.”

  I took the chair closest to the fireplace. It was the only open seat in the room, and for the briefest second, it felt as if they’d all been waiting for me.

  I perched on the very edge of the uncomfortably fancy chair, hoping I wouldn’t soak the upholstery.

  No one spoke. No one even looked at me. When Reva returned with a towel, she kept her eyes averted as she handed it over. I rubbed my hair and wrapped it around my shoulders, but still, the witches didn't say a word.

  Death did terrible things to the people left behind—I knew that. It robbed us of the right words, of gentle smiles, of those simple kindnesses, because death was neither simple nor kind—especially not when it took a young person. I understood how it felt when words and hugs seem inadequate in the face of such cruelty.

  I could forgive the witches for that.

  But what was going on here had nothing to do with death, and everything to do with me.

  “Look, we all know I’m not your friend," I finally said. “But Sophie cared about you guys, and you obviously felt the same about her. Can we just put everything else aside for now and talk? For Sophie’s sake?”

  They room seemed to let out a collective sigh. A few of the women nodded at me, finally making eye contact.

  “Sophie told me she was planning to meet you here last night,” I said.

  “She never showed,” one of them said. “I texted her a few times, but she—”

  “Wendy.” Haley—the one I thought Sophie was closest to—shot Wendy a warning glare.

  Wendy’s cheeks flushed.

  “I texted her too," another witch said. Delilah, I thought her name was. Delilah looked at Haley, who sighed loudly, but then nodded.

  Interesting…

  “She didn't text me back,” Delilah said.

  “Same here.” It was Reva this time, the young witch. Tears gathered in her eyes, her voice breaking as she spoke. “I just figured she got called into work or something.”

  I shook my head. It wasn't adding up. Sophie was not a flake. If she’d gotten called in to Illuminae, she would've let them know.

  Haley probably would've known that about her, too, but when I tried to catch her eye, she looked away.

  What the hell is going on?

  “None of you thought that something might be wrong?" I asked.

  “Not really.” Reva turned toward the kitchen, where Norah was still preparing my tea, then back to me. “It wasn’t the first time Sophie missed a meeting."

  “Usually because of you,” Delilah grumbled.

  “Oh yeah?” I snapped. “Well this time it was because she was being murdered in her own bed while you guys sat around with your broomsticks up your asses.”

  “That's not fair,” Haley said. She was about to say something else, but the witch sitting on the couch next to her cleared her throat. Norah’s footsteps were getting closer. All of them fell strangely silent after that.

  What the hell?

  They we're acting like a bunch of kids about to get scolded by the nanny. If that’s what joining the coven did to you, I was glad I’d stuck to my instincts and steered clear.

  “I’m sorry," I said, softer this time. “I’m not blaming anyone. I’m just trying to figure out what happened to her.”

  “We all want that, Gray,” Norah said. She just returned from the kitchen with a mug of strong, black tea, and I wrapped my hands around it, grateful for the warmth.

  The witches fidgeted in their seats.

  “I know you're probably feeling helpless,” Norah continued, “maybe like you need to get out there and do something. We all feel that way. But like I told the girls, now that the police are involved, I think it's best if we let them handle it. Right, girls?"

  “Yes, Norah,” came the chorus.

  Okay… Death made people awkward and uncomfortable in the best of situations, but now I was getting serious creepy vibes. Cult vibes. And what did she mean, now that the police are involved? Would she have preferred to put these dainty, coffee-cake-nibbling witches in charge? Right. Maybe they could scare the killer out of hiding with a coordinated floral napkin offensive.

  I sighed again. Steam danced across the surface of my tea, swirling in the current of my breath. I wished I was more prepared for this, but your best friend's murder isn't exactly something you can plan for.

  “I'm not helpless," I said. “That's why I’m here. I'm trying to do something more productive than crying.”

  Norah bristled. “We all cared about Sophie, Gray. We are all dealing with this loss the best way we—”

  “She's not lost,” I snapped. “We're not putting her picture on a milk carton in the hopes that she might turn up in Iowa with a bad case of amnesia. She's not coming back—ever. She's dead."

  The energy in the room crackled, and I looked up to find all eyes on me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. God, how was I screwing this up so badly? “I just wanted to ask a few questions about Sophie and the meeting last night to see if the police may have overlooked anything.”

  “You don't trust Detective Alvarez?” Concern flashed in Norah’s eyes, but like her smile, it didn’t seem authentic. “He said you and your… friend… called him directly.”

  Her tone was almost accusatory.

  “It's not that,” I said. “I’m sure he’s great at his job. But he doesn’t know Sophie. How her mind worked, what she thought about, who she was. He’s not a witch.”

  “Oh, and you are?” Delilah snapped.

  “Delilah,” Norah warned.

  “No,” Delilah said. “It’s not right. Gray thinks she can stomp in here with her demon pet, insult us, get whatever she wants from us, when all she's ever done is pretend we don't exist. She thinks she's too good for us. She thinks she's the only one who has a right to grieve for Sophie.”

  “It’s not like that! Sophie was my best friend,” I said. “She's all the family I had.”

  “Yeah? Who's fault is that?” Delilah asked. “You could've been part of this, Gray. Part of us. That was the only thing Sophie ever really asked you for, and you let her down.”

  Her words hit their mark, slicing through me like a hot blade.

  I was out of my chair in an instant, teacup crashing to the floor as I lunged for her.

  Before I got within striking distance, the air around me shimmered with magic.

  I was flat on my back before I took my next breath.

  “I will not have you attacking the sisters in my home.” Norah loomed over me, hand outstretched as her magic pinned me in place, glaring down at me in a steely warning that made my blood run cold.

  Her hold spell was terrifyingly strong. She’d barely left me enough room to breathe, and when she finally released me, I sucked in air like I’d been starved of it for days.

  Haley crouched over me and held out a hand, helping me up off the floor. A strange look crossed her face, almost like she felt bad about what Norah had done, but it was gone before I could get a true read on her.

  “I think it's time for you to go," Norah said. Her tone had softened slightly, but the ice in her eyes had not. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Outside the door, I tried to apologize for going after Delilah and making a mess of the living room, but Norah cut me off, grabbing my arm and dragging me to the other side of the wraparound porch.

  Away from the front windows and the prying eyes of the others, she said, “You involved the police. That’s why they don’t trust you.”

  “I came home to find my best friend dead in her bed. What should I have done instead?”

  “You should have contacted us first, Gray. There are things we might have tried—other avenues. But it's too late. We risk too much exposure as it is.”

  “What avenues?”

  “Delilah wasn't wrong in what she said.”

  “What, that I'm not one of you? Or that I'm not a witch at all?” I couldn't br
ing myself to repeat what she’d said about Sophie. About how disappointing I was.

  “As I understand it, you turned your back on your powers a long time ago,” Norah said. “What, then, makes you a witch?”

  My eyes widened.

  I didn't like people knowing my secrets, and Sophie knew that. Anger flared briefly in my chest, then died.

  I couldn’t be mad at her for trying to bring us together. She thought the witches could help me.

  Oh, sweet Sophie.

  “You can't have it both ways.” Norah folded her arms across her chest. “You're afraid of your magic, and that's a dangerous place to be. For all of us.”

  I opened my mouth to deny it, but she was right. I was afraid of magic. I hated magic. It was the reason I’d lived most of my life on the run. The reason I wanted nothing to do with the coven.

  “You react out of fear,” Norah went on, “and that's how people get hurt. That's how witches get exposed.”

  “Using magic is how witches get exposed. For all you know that little spell you cast on me just sent out a beacon.”

  “One spell is hardly enough to send out anything. And my home is warded, Gray.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I don’t take unnecessary risks with my coven.”

  “What about necessary ones?”

  Norah frowned, her eyes searching my face for a long time. I had no idea what she was looking for, but I was pretty sure she didn't find it.

  “I'm very sorry about Sophie’s death.” Norah put her hand on my shoulder. “But unless you're willing to commit yourself to this sisterhood, to live by our code, I can’t help you. Not with your grief, and not with your magic.”

  I pulled away from her touch. “I didn’t come here to drink the coven Kool-Aid.”

  “Then I've got nothing left to say to you, Gray.”

  I pulled out my phone. “Can I at least text someone my number? In case anyone remembers anything about—”

  “If anyone remembers anything significant, she will share it with the police, as we’ve already been instructed.” Norah headed to the front door. Without so much as a backward glance, she said, “I have to ask that you don’t return here, Gray. I can’t have you stirring up the coven and causing problems.”

  With that, she disappeared inside, bolting the door behind her. The wards vibrated across my skin, much stronger this time, nudging me away from the house.

  The longer I stood in place, the harder the wards nudged. Then they turned painful, almost like an electrical current.

  The message was clear.

  You’re not one of us, outsider.

  I headed down to the sidewalk, stopping once I’d cleared the wards to take one more look at the house. Behind the star-shaped window at the top, I caught sight of a face.

  Reva. Her hand was pressed against the colored glass panes, fingers curled in a wave.

  I couldn’t tell whether it was a goodbye… or a call for help.

  Sixteen

  Gray

  Ronan was no longer alone.

  I found him sitting on the edge of a mermaid fountain in Bloodstone Park’s sculpture garden with a man I’d never seen before. A demon, I realized, catching a faint whiff of his scent—fresh ground cinnamon, hot peppers, and candle flame all woven into one incredibly powerful, intoxicating package. Despite the chill in the air and the distance between us, I could feel the heat emanating from him.

  I crept a little closer and ducked behind an adjacent statue, keeping out of sight as I sussed out the situation.

  “—so overprotective of her,” Hot Demon was saying. “It’ll get you smoked.”

  “I’m handling it,” Ronan said.

  “You’re emotionally compromised. You can’t possibly—”

  “I said I’m handling it,” Ronan snapped.

  “Handling it, or handling her?” The demon grinned, his implications clear.

  “Fuck off, Ash. It’s not like that.”

  “No? So tell me what it’s like. Because from where I sit, you’re out there risking your ass for a—” The demon cut off abruptly, and for a second I worried I’d been discovered. But then he barked out a laugh, pointing an accusatory finger at Ronan. “Oh, shit. You’re in love with her.”

  My heart skittered, but before I could even contemplate what that might mean, Ronan grabbed the guy’s throat, every muscle in his body strung tight as a bow.

  “Tread carefully, dickhead,” Ronan said, low and menacing. “Real carefully.”

  Sucking in a deep breath, I took a few steps backward.

  I shouldn’t have eavesdropped. There was no point in assigning meaning to the demon’s words, to Ronan’s reactions, to the butterfly swirls in my stomach. We had bigger things to worry about now.

  Still a little unsteady, I looped back around the outer edge of the park and re-entered the sculpture garden from the other side, coming at them head-on.

  When they finally spotted me, Ronan got to his feet, but Hot Demon stayed put. Even from a distance I could see him glowering at me, making no attempt to hide his disdain as he scanned my body head to toe.

  When I reached the statue, and he finally met my gaze, my breath caught.

  Holy. Hell.

  He wasn’t just Hot Demon. He was Gorgeous, Mesmerizing, Sex-on-a-Platter Demon. Penetrating dark blue eyes pinned me in place, as fathomless and hypnotic as the deepest parts of the ocean. His cupid’s bow lips were full and perfect, cocked to the side in what looked to be a permanent bad-boy smirk. My fingers itched to slide into his messy, chestnut-colored hair, pull him close, and beg for a taste of that kiss. I could already feel the soft scratch of his stubble on my chin as his hot, wet mouth claimed mine, my core pulsing with need…

  “Are you fucking serious right now, Ash?” Ronan punched the guy in the arm, his sharp reprimand snapping me out of the momentary fantasy.

  It felt like I’d just been cut free from a giant rubber band, and I gasped for air, trying to get my heart rate under control.

  Demons don’t have influence like vamps do…. So what the hell just happened?

  The demon laughed, but just as quickly as that rakish smile had appeared, it vanished, and he narrowed his eyes on me once again. “So you’re the girl Ronan’s losing so much sleep over? Gotta admit—not what I was expecting.”

  “Happy to disappoint,” I said, glowering right back at him. I didn’t know why he was affecting me so strongly, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing it. Or admitting that I already missed his smile and wished I’d worn something other than a sweatshirt the color of Pepto-Bismol. “Who the fuck are you again?”

  “He’s nobody,” Ronan said, at the same time the demon said, “The guy who’s gonna make sure you don’t put a wrecking ball through my boy’s life.”

  Ronan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Gray Desario, meet Asher O’Keefe. Asher O’Keefe, fucking behave yourself.”

  Asher… Why did I know that name?

  “Wait,” I said. “Asher—with the safe house?”

  Asher grinned. “Whatever horrible things you’ve heard about me, they’re all true.”

  I had no doubt about that, but unfortunately I hadn’t heard anything about him—not really. That was the problem.

  Well, that… and the fact that evidence of my stupid fantasy still lingered between my thighs.

  With a mouth like that, I bet he kisses like a god…

  Crossing my arms over my chest to hide my suddenly erect nipples, I turned to Ronan. “This isn’t really the best time for bringing new friends into the mix.”

  “Oh, I’m not your friend, sweetheart,” Asher said.

  “Ignore him. They don’t let him out of his cage often.” Ronan shot Asher a warning glare, then wrapped a hand around my forearm, his touch comforting and familiar, grounding me as always. “Any progress with the witches?”

  “Sure. I progressed clear through to the part where they banned me for life.”

  “What happen
ed?”

  I glanced back at Asher, not sure how much I should reveal.

  “He’s with us, Gray,” Ronan said softly.

  “Can I talk to you for a sec?” I jerked my head toward a whale sculpture about ten yards away. “In private?”

  “You’d better go, Ronan,” Asher jeered. “Wouldn’t want the witch getting her pointy little hat in a twist.”

  Ignoring him, I grabbed Ronan’s hand and headed for the whale. We were safely out of earshot when I turned to him with a harsh glare. “Explain.”

  “Gray…” Ronan dragged a hand through his damp hair, lowering his eyes. In a voice thick with emotion, he said, “Sophie was murdered in your house last night. Alvarez doesn’t have any leads. We obviously can’t count on Norah.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “The point is you’re still in danger. We need backup on this, and Asher’s the best demon for the job.”

  “Best demon for the job? No, screw that. We are the backup. You and me. Just like always.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it broke on the last word. After yesterday, I wasn’t sure I could put much faith in words like “always” anymore. As badly as I wanted it to be, always just wasn’t a promise anyone could keep. Not even Ronan.

  He cupped my face and met my gaze again, his leaves-in-autumn eyes both gentle and fierce. In a reassuring voice that left no room for argument, he said, “Keeping you safe is my number one priority. I can’t do it by myself, and your new vamp-buddy Beaumont is useless during daylight hours.”

  “Hmm. But not so useless at night, right?”

  Ronan shrugged. “He’s not a bad guy to have in your corner. I wouldn’t have called him about the safe house last night if that wasn’t the case. But you vetoed that plan, and here we are.”

  “Yeah, I vetoed it, because I’m not leaving.” I tugged the sleeves down over my hands, blowing on them for warmth. “So you’ve decided to trust Darius?”

  “Trusting him was never the issue. I just don’t like that he…” Ronan grabbed my hands, his thumbs grazing the insides of my wrists. The spot where Darius had fed from prickled.