Demons Are Forever

by Marianne Morea

  Demons Are Forever

  Magic and Mayhem Universe

  Marianne Morea

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Magic And Mayhem Universe

  Other books by Marianne Morea

  For the lil’ devil in all of us…

  Copyright © 2021 by Marianne Morea

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  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.

  * * *

  This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.

  * * *

  The Author of this Book has been granted permission by Robyn Peterman to use the copyrighted characters and/or worlds created by Robyn Peterman in this book. All copyright protection to the original characters and/or worlds of the Magic and Mayhem series is retained by Robyn Peterman.

  Foreword

  Blast Off with us into the Magic and Mayhem Universe!

  * * *

  I’m Robyn Peterman, the creator of the Magic and Mayhem Series and I’d like to invite you to my Magic and Mayhem Universe.

  What is the Magic and Mayhem Universe, you may ask?

  Well, let me explain…

  It’s basically authorized fan fiction written by some amazing authors that I stalked and blackmailed! KIDDING! I was lucky and blessed to have some brilliant authors say yes! They have written brand new stories using my world and some of my characters. And let me tell you…the results are hilarious!

  So here it is! Blast off with us into the hilarious Magic and Mayhem Universe. Side splitting books by fantabulous authors! Check out each and every one. You will laugh your way to a magical HEA!

  For all the stories, go to https://magicandmayhemuniverse.com

  Grab your copy today!

  And if you would like to read the book that started all the madness, Switching Hour is FREE!

  https://robynpeterman.com/switching-hour/

  Chapter One

  “Is Carol here?” Tabitha asked, fanning her underarms. “The witch makes me nervous sweat, even on my wedding day.”

  I peeked through the bride’s tent curtain. “Front row and center. Her and some gorgeous ginger guy, and I don’t usually like redheads.”

  My best friend shot me a look. “Sorry, Tabs. I didn’t mean you, but you know what I meant.”

  “You’re just lucky I speak fluent Linzie. You can hide it all you want, but I think Carol makes you nervous, too.”

  I smoothed a few stray red hairs back into Tabitha’s ornate braid. “I’m a demi-demon. She’s the Baba Yaga—the most powerful witch of all. Of course she makes me jumpy.”

  Tabs hugged me, before turning me around to peek through the tent again. “Keep me occupied. Who else is here?”

  “Looks like Roy is here with Marge.”

  “See?” Tabitha gestured toward the tent flap. “He was kind of a demon and now he’s hooked up with Carol’s sister, and she’s second only to Baba when it comes to power.”

  I snorted. “Damn, you’d never know Marge is the Baba Yaga’s sister. She’s stylish as well as gorgeous.”

  “Ugh.” Tabs rolled her eyes, fixing the silver combs in her hair. “I’m not even going to ask what Baba’s wearing.”

  I laughed. “Think Dynasty and you’ll get the picture.”

  “Shoulder pads?”

  “Yep. Linebacker sized.”

  Tabitha’s dad pulled the tent flap back and touched his watch. “Get a move on, girls. It’s showtime.”

  I gave Tab’s shoulders a squeeze, pecking her cheek. “Let’s go, witchiepoo.”

  Tabitha stepped back, dragging in a steadying breath. “Hey, you’re half witchiepoo yourself, babe.” With a wink, she picked up both our bouquets, holding the smaller one out for me. “I couldn’t do this without you, Linz. You know that, right?”

  Tears threatened in my friend’s eyes, and I wasn’t having it. Not on her wedding day. “Tabs, stop. I already told you, I’m NOT going to be your sister wife. Michael’s cool and all, but totally not my type.”

  Tabitha blinked for a second, and then burst out laughing. “I love you, demon-face.”

  “Ugh. Don’t wish that on anyone. Multiple eyes and smelling like shit on a stick will totally ruin my chances at wedding sex.”

  My friend’s smile reminded me of days we played hooky from school. Full of devil-may-care mischief and hope. “How does a demon manage to look so charming and angelic?” she asked, angling her head.

  I shrugged, lifting my bouquet. “I’m a Hellborne. It’s part of the camouflage.” Half demon, actually. Half healer witch, as well. My mother had a hook-up with a demon-turned-semi-good-guy, whose reformed status allowed him to assume human form. It’s why my short jet-black hair had unusual highlights that sparkled when they caught the light.

  Music swelled outside the bridal tent. It was time. Tabitha’s smile was everything a bride’s smile should be as she stepped out of the tent. Honest. Happy. Honored. But mostly happy.

  Was I excited for my BFF? Of course. But for myself, not so much. I’m a demi-demon. Selfless isn’t a natural state for me, despite my half-healer-witch chromosomes. Par for the course when your sperm donor father exits stage left, and your witch of a mother doesn’t fill you in on her half of your genetic makeup. Needless to say, I don’t do well with change. And life was about to change big time.

  The reception was in full swing, the atmosphere relaxed as I stood at the bar across from the dance floor. My BFF never looked happier, even when Michael stepped on her two left feet.

  “Hey, baby. Some wedding, huh.”

  I turned, hoping I got the voice wrong.

  No such luck.

  Dallas Crowe, a.k.a. Jackwagon Pony Dong Eater, leaned on the bar just a few feet from where I stood. He was Tabitha’s ex, and I warned her he’d find a way to make trouble. Dallas spent the last month trashing Tabitha and Michael, mostly because he was butthurt. Not because Tabby dumped him. No.

  She’d caught him red-handed, sticky fingering her credit card to buy another girl a pack of edible panties. Michael flattened him for it, and I used my dark side, so he’d pony up.

  Dallas fingered the damp napkin under his beer. “I figure a down and dirty demon-bitch like you would have an itch that needs scratching by now.” The leer on his face made my eyes prickle. Not a good sign

  The moron lifted a hand to brush knuckles down my bare arm. Seriously. The dude was as dumb as a bag of kitty litter.

  My eyeballs stung. A telltale sign my blue eyes had flashed over solid black. The moron’s hand went rigid before clasping his beer. Gaze locked, I watched him fight the compulsion, but nope. He lifted the drink, pouring the entire glass over his own head.

  “That’s quite a trick.”

  I jerked around at the coarse, deep voice behind me, only to find Roy Bermangoggleshitz standing a few feet away. “It comes in handy,” I replied, contemplating adding my whiskey to Dallas’s beer bath.

  “I�
�m sure,” he countered, leaning in closer. “Except, from the black ring lingering around those pretty blue irises, my guess is those tricks are getting harder to control.”

  “I’m fine, Roy.”

  He nodded. “You are…for now.” Reaching over the bar, he snagged a drink towel, handing it to me. “Release him, Linzie. Before Tabitha notices.”

  “Why? He’s a pig and a gatecrasher. An uninvited guest here to make trouble. He’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”

  At Roy’s unblinking stare, I exhaled a grumble. “Fine. But only for Tabitha’s sake.”

  Dallas coughed, pushing beer soaked hair from his face as I released him from thrall. “What the hell?” he sputtered.

  “No, what the Hellborne.” I shoved the bar towel at his chest. “If I were you, I’d leave now before you make me do something I won’t regret. Like make you the main course at a shark feeding frenzy.”

  “Fucking witches!”

  “Not really, but if you slap a capital B on that you’re in the ballpark.”

  Roy cleared his throat, grabbing my attention.

  “Fine,” I grumbled again. “Dallas, you need to leave. You’re outnumbered. One whistle and a pack of wolf-shifters will do the work of removing you for me. Piece by piece.”

  The idiot turned with a glare, but left the way he came. “Huh. I guess the dickwad isn’t as stupid as I thought.”

  “Hmmm.”

  Roy’s non-reply got under my skin. And why was he still at the bar? Dallas was gone. Mission accomplished.

  “Tabitha and Michael look good together, don’tcha think? Then again, if Halloween creatures are real then maybe fairytale endings are, too…or maybe it’s just the full moon.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” I replied. “You’ll have to ask one of the furry and fabu.”

  He grinned at that. “You sound like Zelda.”

  I didn’t reply. Zelda was Tabitha’s friend. I knew she was a shifter whisperer, or something to that effect, but I had never met her. Tabs was disappointed her magical pokey buddy couldn’t make the wedding, but hey.

  “You and Marge enjoying yourselves?” I asked to be polite, still not knowing why he hung around.

  “Considering I didn’t arrive in a cloud of acrid green smoke with black snakes writhing around my feet, I’d say so.”

  “No,” I replied, following his gaze, “just a soft swirl that smells like fresh-baked cookies.”

  Roy’s eyes slipped to the table where his gorgeous Cookie Witch sat talking with Tabitha’s parents. “Marge comes with all kinds of perks.” His soft grin reminded me of Michael when he watched Tabitha unawares.

  “Why are you here, Roy? And don’t say because you were invited. I mean here, here.” I tapped the bar.

  He didn’t seem surprised at my question. Call it demon intuition, but I knew he was about to drop something I wasn’t going to like.

  “Your eyes,” he gestured to my face. “They’re still a little…dark.” He paused as if waiting for me to agree, but when I didn’t, he nodded to himself. “The darkness inside is harder to control than you thought.”

  The shrug I gave him wasn’t fooling anyone, and my suddenly bunched shoulders told me Roy wasn’t at the bar just to stop me from dealing with a dickwad. “You would know.”

  “Admittedly.” He inhaled, like he needed a clean breath. “It’s a struggle, but for people like us, it’s a choice. A choice I can help you make.”

  For a dark wizard who struggled with his own inner demon, Roy Bermangoggleshitz looked pretty good. Looking at him now, you’d never believe he used to have horns and black eyes, and smelled like shit on a stick. Or that he would score the Baba Yaga’s sister as his one true love.

  “You talk as if I want my dark side. I already agreed to the Bermangoggleshitz method for keeping the light on.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You agreed, but never pursued.”

  “Okay.” I smirked at his look. “I admit it’s fun being a little bad.”

  “More than a little. It’s addicting. That is until it consumes you and you lose yourself.” He leaned in for effect. “Inside and out. You’re too pretty and too smart to end up with multiple eyes, gray skin and oozing black muck that stinks like crap.”

  Roy’s face was so serious, I didn’t dare look away. “You make it sound like I need Demons Anonymous or something.”

  “Nope. Though not a bad idea, actually.

  Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “You know what I mean. You wouldn’t be standing here talking to me about nonsense unless you wanted something from me. After everything that happened last month, just spit it out.”

  Last month scared the crud out of me. Tabby, Michael and I got a dose of darkness up close, when a centuries-old ghost decided to take Mikey-boy hostage as payment for something his dick of an ancestor did back in the day. Still, I wasn’t owning it as a possibility for me personally.

  “You are right, and I apologize. We need your help.”

  “We? Who’s we?”

  His eyes slid toward the head table, and Carol sitting with Tabitha. As if on cue, the Baba Yaga got up from her seat, and I bit my cheek not to laugh at the rhinestone-encrusted hot pink mess she wore. It was ruched, with an orange tulle underskirt, and shoulder pads so wide, watching her maneuver was like watching a cruise ship back into a dock in Boston Harbor.

  Carol freed herself from the dais, and was at Roy’s side in a swirl of purple sparkle. So much for keeping things low-key magical.

  “Is this some sort of intervention?” I questioned, looking from one to the other. I knew I should be wary of the Baba Yaga and her hair-trigger temperament, but my witch side wasn’t developed enough for that kind of fear. “Have I broken some rule I don’t know about?”

  Carol blinked, and I realized even her eyelashes had rhinestones. “No, you haven’t broken any rules, but you could dial down the attitude a bit.”

  Roy cleared his voice. An unspoken clue I should apologize, and I did. Carol seemed mollified for the moment, which prompted me to ask, “If I haven’t done anything wrong, and this isn’t an intervention or an inquisition, then why the sparkle star chamber looks?”

  “Direct and to the point.” Baba pursed her bubblegum-pink glossed lips. “Good. I was hoping you’d be no-nonsense.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and her obvious study of me made me a little squirmy. Roy signaled the bartender, who poured me another drink.

  “I was right.” Carol nodded. “Zelda has no time right now, which leaves you and Roy as the only dark-side-owning witches I can trust.”

  Her absent nod, coupled with the way she scrutinized me, was like having a naked dream. And not the good kind.

  “Uhm, I’m a demi-demon. The same way I’m a demi-witch.” Saying it out loud was never fun. In other words, I belonged nowhere.

  She nodded again, but this time it wasn’t absent. “Exactly. Which is why you’re perfect for this mission.”

  I took a step back. “Whoa. Did you say mission?”

  Roy took a step closer, in effect putting himself between me and the Baba Yaga. “We have a problem, Linzie. It involves witch blood.”

  Their faces said it all, but I didn’t need their unspoken gravitas to know this was a big deal. I was an untrained demi-witch, but even I knew dealing in blood of any kind was illegal for witches, but dealing in witch blood? Double whammy.

  “This sounds like a witch-based dilemma. As Baba Yaga, shouldn’t you be able to handle it?” The question was legit, and I didn’t care if her eyebrow rocketed from her forehead like an arched projectile.

  “It is a witchy dilemma. Dealing in blood is illegal, but only for witches. Demons, not so much, and for vampires, it’s their stock and trade.”

  “Are you telling me vampires are dealing in witch blood?” I scoffed. “That’s unlikely, considering their own blood is much more potent.”

  Roy and Carol shared a look.

  “Oh, c’mon. I may be a halfling neither chromosomal side wants to cla
im, but even I know vampire blood is fatal. Even a drop. Why would they need witch blood?”

  Roy answered. “Because of its inherent magic. Ingest the blood, ingest the donor’s power.”

  I was thoroughly confused at this point. “Again. This is a witchy dilemma. Why would you need a demi-demon?”

  “Because the culprits aren’t dealing in full-bodied witch blood. They’re dealing in halfling blood.”

  “And?”

  Roy answered again. “Half demon, half witch. The fact their blood is mixed is what’s causing the stalemate. It’s a loophole. Selling blood, trading in blood, isn’t a crime for demons and vampires, but it is for witches. The Goddess’s hands are tied, unless we can provide proof they are—” he hesitated, shooting me an apologetic look. “—proof they are distilling out the demon taint.”

  “So what do you need me for, then?”

  Baba’s face was serious as a heart attack. “Bait.”

  I stared at the two of them, realizing this wasn’t some sort of witchy practical joke. “Bait,” I repeated, a little nonplussed.

  The rhinestones on Carol’s lashes changed color, as did her tulle underskirt. They shifted to lime green, to match her shoes. Of course, that made things too matchy-matchy for the Baba Yaga, so her shoes shifted to yellow and black polka-dot.

  The neon transformation nearly made me lose my train of thought, but I forced my attention back to that one word. Bait.

  “Linzie, we’ve managed to pinpoint where we think the source operation is located,” Roy replied. “Neither Carol nor Marge can go. It’s too risky. Plus, they’d be spotted in an instant. They’re too powerful, and their appearance is—” he hesitated again. “—too well known.”