Hell is a Harem

by Kim Faulks

  Sickening words hit home with every thud as I mounted the last stair and shoved through the door. I made for the bannister and dragged my foot onto the first step.

  The hard thud stole my breath. One step after another I forced myself to climb, until I caught sight of the open door of my apartment. Tears blurred my eyes as the blinding glare of the headlights flooded my mind.

  They hurt you, my father’s words took flight inside my mind. They cuffed you like an animal…they did that to your beautiful face, and you never fought back once. Did you?

  Slick warmth slipped from my eyes and down my cheeks. Never in my life had I wanted to hurt in cruelty or anger. I was a hunter…that was my job—it wasn’t who I was.

  But this…this was malevolent and cruel. Hunter or prey…it came down to one or the other. I shoved from the last step and stumbled for the door. I needed a shower but I wanted to sleep for a hundred years.

  The hard brush of wings against the too small doorframe came from behind me, followed by a snarl and then a grunt. But this morning I didn’t care, not about their egos or their pathetic male dominance. I reached for the hem of my shirt, held my breath, then lifted.

  Pain lashed deep as I yanked my shirt free. I slowed long enough to kick my boots free and then made for the bathroom. Memories came to me, Titus in the shower with me, washing my body and my hair.

  My damn fingers refused to work, dancing and fumbling at the button on my jeans. Fuck it. I ground my jaw as movement came behind me.

  Rival filled the mirror as he stepped into the bathroom behind me.

  “Let me help, Lorn…please.”

  The tortured look in his eyes was cruel. He was hurting, and it was all because of me. I dropped my hands to the side of the basin and gave a nod.

  Deft fingers once so smooth became careful and timid as he moved to the side. I tried to straighten, tried to give him what he needed until he growled. “Don’t…don’t move, just stand there. Let me take care of you. Jesus…”

  He swallowed a shudder and stilled, his gaze fixed on my side as he moved around to my side. Warm fingers pressed into my side near the puncture wounds. “What the fuck did they do to you?”

  “Taser,” I murmured.

  A guttural sound echoed in the bathroom. Dark and feral, the growl bounced off the tiles to slam into me. He never lifted his head, never let me see what he saw…but I didn’t need to, only felt the gentle brush of the back of his finger below my bra.

  He was quiet, too quiet, reaching between my body and the basin to pop the button on my jeans and slide the zipper low. A gentle tug on my waist and the denim dropped. He speared his fingers under the waistband of my panties and dragged them low.

  I turned into him. He knew me…every part of me. He knew the freckles along my ribs, and the mole in the center of my back. He knew the stretch marks on my navel, and the dimpled cellulite on my thighs…and still, he took his time, moving in to kiss the jutting edge of my hip.

  My hand slipped from the basin to the thick midnight strands of his hair as he slid his hand along my calf to the back of my knee and gently lifted. Fabric skimmed across the floor from under one foot, then he moved to the other, leaving me in my bra.

  He rose from the tiles like a ghost in front of me, and I was stolen from this moment and abandoned on the highway once more. Those eyes. Those empty, black eyes. There was no one behind the skull…no one—and yet…come, Lorn. You belong to me.

  A shudder tore through my body. I slapped my hand against the basin as Rival gripped me. “Hey,” he murmured. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  I jerked my gaze to his, and through the darkness I saw everything; fear, life…love.

  “What is it?” He leaned down, staring into my eyes. “What has you so damn spooked?”

  I wanted to tell him…I needed to tell him. But it didn’t make sense—not even to me. I knew creatures, I’d dealt with vampire royalty to filthy, vengeful trolls. I’d captured, sent back to hell. I’d chained, spelled, hexed, and shot. I’d done it all with a smirk on my face, and yet this…this was different.

  This touched me. This left a mark on something deeper than flesh and bone. Those dark empty eyes stayed with me as I shook my head. “It’s nothing, and everything. I dunno, I guess I’m just overwhelmed by it all…Dad, the company…”

  “Us?”

  I flinched with the accusation. “No. God, no. You and Titus and Gabriel are the only ones real to me right now. You center me…hey, listen to me. You are what’s keeping me going.”

  Dark strands of hair fell forward as he leaned into me until we almost touched. His breath was warm, tickling my cheek…and then the corner of my mouth as he lowered his head.

  My lips parted, waiting…needing. The kiss was nothing more than a brush of the lips as he reached around and unhooked the straps of my bra.

  “Then come back to us,” he murmured against my mouth and closed his eyes. “Come back to us and we’ll get through this together.”

  The straps slid down my shoulders as Rival moved away and opened his eyes. I shivered with the cold breeze, and the smell of cinnamon followed, along with the clang of pans.

  “Is he…”

  There was a slouch to the hellhound’s shoulders, and a look of utter despair as he answered. “Yes…yes, I’m afraid he is.”

  “Dear God.”

  Rival stepped backwards and turned, yanking open the shower door, and reached for the faucets. “He’s about the only one who could help us at this point. I hope you’re proud of yourself. You’ve single-handedly destroyed the kitchen with one over-bearing archangel.”

  There were no chicken jokes, not even a turkey thrown in for good measure. I couldn’t help but stare as Rival twisted the faucets and the spray filled the stall. Maybe this would be different…maybe this was a new beginning for us all?

  Steam rose to cloud the glass as Rival stepped aside to let me past and the deep baritone call of what sounded like a dying goose tore through the apartment to find us.

  But it was just Gabriel…being…Gabriel.

  “Wow,” Rival murmured. “Just…wow. His singing is almost on par with his cooking.”

  There were very few moments of my life where sorry just couldn’t cut it…and this was one of those times. I stepped inside the shower as the sound grew louder, and more off key—and, as horrid as the sound was…it was everything I needed.

  The heat hit my skin like a thousand needles. I moaned and curled my shoulders, let it hit the middle of my back. “Too hot.”

  “It’s only because you’re cold,” Rival murmured and dragged his shirt over his head. His jeans were next, leaving him bare as he stepped into the shower behind me. “I just want to take care of you…that’s all.”

  It didn’t matter. Sex with them was like breathing—necessary and perfect. I turned toward him, melting under the feel of his hands, and inhaled.

  Warmth filled me, melting the icy fragments that dwelled inside. His hands were soft and sure, finding the hard knots in the middle of my shoulders and skirting the puncture wounds on my side. I lifted my arms as he grabbed the soap and the loofah.

  Slow hard circles burned on my skin as he worked the bristles across the top of my shoulders and along my arms. Until slowly, I pulled away from the ache and settled into the motion.

  Up and back…around and around.

  Down along my spine to the small of my back and around to my navel.

  Normal. That’s what this felt like.

  Normal and safe.

  His thick chest rose with a hard breath as I dropped my head forward.

  “Come on,” he murmured into my wet hair. “Let’s get you dressed and into bed.”

  He hit the faucets and the spray ended. My feet refused to move, until sure hands shoved the shower door aside and guided me out. There was the brush of a towel, the friction running along my arms, my back, pressing against my face.

  “She’s mine now.” You belong to me.

  I
wrenched my eyes open with the words. Gabriel was a neon glare…like headlights in my eyes.

  No. “No.” The word tore free as I stumbled backwards.

  My archangel stilled mid-step, his gaze narrowed, blue eyes darkened to a tempest storm. He jerked his focus to the hellhound and then back to me. “It’s me, Lorn. Gabriel.”

  One hand held a steaming mug, and the other reached desperately for me. It was just Gabriel…just Gabriel. I forced a smile, and managed a small step on shaking legs. “Sorry, not sure what happened there.”

  “I made you a warm drink, it’s good for pain,” he murmured, wide eyes fixed on me.

  The smell of cinnamon filled the bathroom. He was trying…trying so damn hard. I glanced at Rival, still dripping wet from the shower, holding the towel open for me. They both were, and the fragility of this moment wasn’t lost. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

  I reached for Rival, pressing my palm against his chest before I leaned in. His lips were soft, and beaded water slipped into the kiss before I pulled away. His lips curled into a forced smile, the act looked so fucking sad.

  “I have your favorite comfy shirt,” Gabriel chimed in as I took a step, leaving Rival behind.

  He wrapped the towel around and tucked the ends in front before I stepped into Gabriel’s waiting arms. He wound one arm around my waist and shoved the mug into my hand as he led me into the bedroom. “It’s a special recipe, with a little angelic touch.”

  Cinnamon and honey filled my mouth as I took a sip. Gabriel grabbed the clothes waiting on the bed, before he took the cup from my hands and placed it on the bedside nightstand. “Sleep is what you need. Your body needs to heal.”

  “Will you stay this time?” I lifted my arms and slipped hands through the holes before he worked the shirt over my head.

  His eyes widened and his gaze fought to turn toward the hellhound as he slowly answered. “If you want me to.”

  “She wants you to, dude,” Rival snarled with a shake of his head. “Otherwise she wouldn’t be asking.”

  Drawers were opened, cloth slid over skin in the background, still I never took my eyes from Gabriel. “I want you to.”

  Neon blue lit up the perfect sky of his eyes as he nodded. “Then I’ll stay.”

  There was a rise in his chest. Purpose drove his movements as he grasped my cotton panties from the bed and knelt on one knee. I dropped my hand to his shoulder, feeling the shudder course through his body.

  Out of the darkness came the blinding light of my archangel. He was awkward and clingy and moody and beautiful and breathtaking…did I say awkward? And yet, so fucking endearing. So driven with need.

  Feathers brushed the floor as he rose. He stilled, caught my gaze, and his forehead creased. “What is it?”

  God help me…I was falling in love—again. I shook my head, bit the inside of my cheek, trying my best to hide the smile. “Nothing.”

  But he shook his head, his brows tightening. “It’s not nothing.”

  “No, it’s not nothing,” Rival murmured, and climbed into bed. “But you might wanna be around a little more often, seeing as how the woman is falling head over heels for you.”

  There was a crack in his neck as Gabriel whipped his gaze from Rival to me. His eyes widened until I could see the whites all the way around. “You are?”

  “I am,” I whispered.

  “A woman in love smells like seduction and flowers, and desire and danger. Don’t forget the danger,” Rival snarled. “On second thought, you might wanna put the emphasis on danger with this one.”

  I jerked my gaze toward the hellhound, my top lip curled with a warning. He smirked…bastard.

  The bedsheets rustled as he lifted his finger and tapped the side of his nose. “A hound’s nose knows.”

  “You’re falling in love with me?” Husky words trembled with emotion.

  “Falling, fell…kinda the same, don’t you think?” I muttered as heat filled my cheeks. “I’ve always loved you, Gabriel.”

  Gabriel’s fingers brushed my hand. “But just never in love.”

  Not until now…not until this very moment. I lifted my head and met his gaze. I didn’t need to say the words, didn’t need to give him anything more than raw, brutal honesty—and my eyes said it all.

  His lips curled with the kind of smile that sped my pulse. There was a hint of cockiness in there, and a mountain of pride. “You’re in love with me,” he gushed. “You’re in love with me.”

  “Don’t sound so damn proud of yourself,” Rival growled and closed his eyes. “By tomorrow, the woman’s gonna be in love with me, as well. Just you wait and see.”

  But there was no stopping the broken dam. Gabriel’s wings jittered and shuddered, curling out until one hit the wall and the other smacked into the dresser.

  “She’s in love with me,” he muttered, and pulled his wings in hard against his body.

  I sat on the edge of the bed and chuckled before I reached for the mug of cinnamon brew. The bitter taste seemed to sweeten in my mouth. I swallowed and the warmth swept through my body.

  Every sip became sweeter, warmer, leaving me pain-free and exhausted. The mug was gently pried from my fingers as my eyes closed.

  Careful hands eased my head down. I relaxed, snuggling against a rock-hard body. The heady scent of hound filled me. I breathed deep and curled my body against his.

  The mattress dipped hard, warmth across my thighs as Gabriel’s wing curled around me. So warm…so soft.

  I sank into the darkness, and this time there were no beasts waiting.

  This time there was only perfect bliss….

  The groan of bedsprings drew me to the surface. Dreams waited, echoes of the past where I was alone and lonely, hunting demons and wolves. I cracked opened my eyes to the hard glare of sunlight.

  Movement caught my gaze. I dragged in the sour scent of exhaustion and turned my head. Titus sat on the end of the bed, shoulders curled, head down.

  He looked broken…beat. The slick shine of greasy hair caught the sunlight as he turned his head. There was an emptiness in his gaze, a hollow look of resignation and defeat. Something was very wrong. Husky words etched with sleep slipped free. “What is it?”

  There was a shake of head, as he lifted one finger across his lips and glanced at the others beside me. Gabriel gave a snore, and then a soft mumble. There was a softness to his tone, one filled with wonder and love.

  Rival gave a snarl, and then shifted his weight before he settled, and still, Titus just stared, before he carefully rose from the end of the bed and motioned me forward.

  There was blood on his soiled white shirt…fresh blood.

  I swallowed hard, blindingly awake now, and sat up. Gabriel and Rival barely moved as I steadied myself and slid all the way to the bottom of the bed. The floor was cold on my bare feet, but Titus was already leaving our bedroom behind. I gripped the hem of my oversized shirt and followed, stopping in the living room.

  He wouldn’t look at me, blue eyes cast down to the floor in shame. “What is it…tell me.”

  “A package was delivered for you a few minutes ago.”

  I followed the motion of his hand to the cardboard box on the table in front of the sofa. Alma’s cursive handwriting scrawled along the top. “This? This is what has you sleepless and exhausted?”

  He swallowed hard, his tone grazed like gravel as he answered. “Open the box, Lorn.”

  But he needed me…more than any damn box. I shook my head. “No, fuck the box.”

  His brows arched high as he stiffened and finally met my gaze. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

  First an envelope with my stake in the company, and now this…“It is, of course it is. But you are what I want more. I don’t even care about it, not right now. I care about you…always you.”

  A lightning bolt of desire struck me where I stood as this beautiful, sad, fragile human turned toward me. He was like a child, crumbling in front of me. Thick words strangled by guilt sl
ipped free. “It was my fault,” he murmured. “All my fault. I knew what they were saying about us, but I never thought…”

  I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.

  This was why he was working longer hours and coming home beyond exhausted?

  This was why he was quiet…pulling away from me—from us. “No,” I whispered. “No…no…no. None of what happened last night was your fault. Those spineless pieces of shit did this on their own.”

  “If I hadn’t brought you into my world, if I hadn’t…”

  Fallen in love.

  That’s what he was going to say. I could see it in his eyes. Unspoken words were a knife to my heart. “You don’t want to be here anymore?”

  He never said, what? No. Of course I do. I love you, Lorn. I’d fucking die for you. He never said any of that.

  Instead he murmured. “I’m on suspension, leave without pay. I’ve got a meeting with a counselor tomorrow. It seems they don’t like their own prejudices thrown in their faces.”

  My gaze slipped to the blood smear on his shirt, and then to his face. There was no split lip, no busted nose, no cuts I could find, until I dropped my haze to his hands.

  Bright red knuckles were grazed and swollen. He hit them…he hit everyone—for me…my heart lunged like a lioness to slam against the confines of my chest.

  He fought for me. He risked his career…for me.

  I surged forward, not giving a flying fuck about the lies he told.

  He was mine…and always would be mine. I cupped my hands around his face and rose on the tips of my toes, the bristle of his stubble hard against my lips.

  But I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything but him.

  His hands went around my waist, yanking me against his body. He was ready, so nervous and ready. His cock punched against the zipper of his trousers. Fumbling hands held me steady as we stumbled backwards to the sofa.

  The fall was anything but graceful. Titus gave a grunt and then cursed as his legs hit the cushion and he flopped into the seat. My heart hammered as I gripped my panties and shoved until they hit the floor at my feet.