Love Potion: A Valentine's Day Charity Anthology

by Graceley Knox

  He saluted me and sipped his beer. “Is it weird that I feel better knowing I have to fight the guy?” He looked down at his pint. “I mean, I want to hurt him, but that’s not why I’m glad. I just want it over.”

  I laughed mirthlessly. “Tell me about it. You might call yourself a demon, but to me, you’re a godsend.” I handed off the tray of drinks and joined him. “I don’t want you to hurt him, but I do want you to be able to spend the night without worrying someone’s going to start kicking my door, screaming that I’m a whore while we cuddle.”

  Sara cleared her throat and I backed away from Ranger. “I guess he’s okay, Sara, I just didn’t recognize him at first.”

  She made a rude noise at me and slid a plate onto the bar in front of Ranger. “Orson says these aren’t as hot as earlier. He wants your opinion.”

  Ranger eyed the wings so cautiously he sent me into a fit of giggling. “Oh, you big baby. What happened to all that bravado from earlier?”

  “Earlier, I was mid hot-wing when the hottest woman I’ve ever met walked in. I had to take it like a man.”

  His answer, along with the side-eye he gave the platter of wings, sent me into another round of uncontrollable laughter. “Stop. I have work to do. Enjoy your food.”

  “Remember when I offered Chinese?”

  I winked at him and poured another pitcher for the guys in the corner watching the game. It was hard to keep my mind off my apartment, but I’d texted Paris and asked her to lock up for me if it was safe to do so, and to come straight to the bar after. If Shawn had lost it that bad, I didn’t want her bumping into him alone.

  But Ranger was right, too. Shawn’s spiraling had given me a light at the end of the tunnel. He could no longer be ignored, and soon, I could get him behind bars, or as Ranger had suggested, into a padded room. It didn’t matter. I ached to go home and see what I’d lost but managed to stay behind the counter by telling myself it didn’t matter. Any material possessions I lost were a small price to pay to be rid of him.

  Before long, the natural rhythm of the bar swept me up. I filled pitchers, wiped counters, and teased Sara, who spent half the evening mooning over Ranger. Every time he tried to leave, I reminded him that he needed to stay with me and the bottle tucked away in my pocket. He wanted to hunt Shawn. But if he found him. what then? If the police could get to him first and get him behind bars, even better.

  Even Orson sat at the bar on his break, drinking with Ranger as they talked. Every time I got close to them, they’d fall into silence, the kind that very pointedly tells an outsider they’re not wanted. I took the hint and left them alone, stifling the grin that crept onto my face every time I thought about Ranger having a connection that would make him want to stay.

  Then, there was the bottle in my apron. It was the bottle that would set him free, and part of me wanted to hide it somewhere so he would never leave. I felt so dirty just thinking it, that I pulled the bottle out and walked back to him, just as Orson was standing to go back into the kitchen.

  He shook Ranger’s hand, and flashed me a quick grin, and just as he was turning to walk through the dining room, Ranger shouted something, and Orson flew into the bar, smashing his face against the wooden edge and collapsing out of view.

  Ranger was on his feet in an instant, and planted himself, fists raised, as Shawn stood and shook off the tackle he’d just made. “Marshal. You don’t want to do this.”

  Shawn laughed at him, a harsh, braying sound I’d never heard from him before. “Does she know you only want what she has, not her, Demon?”

  I glanced around at our patrons, who were backing away from the two men. “Bar’s closed, go home, I’m paying all tabs. Just go, and be safe, everybody.” I glanced at Sara, crouched behind the bar, and mouthed to her, “Call the police.”

  “He doesn’t want you, Darcy, he just wants that bottle from your bookshelf. Did you give it to him?”

  “Why do you care? If giving it to him makes him leave doesn’t that make you happy?”

  Shawn swung wildly and missed as Ranger danced out of his reach again, luring him toward the front door. “I’ll be happy when he’s dead, and you learn a woman’s place.”

  “Yeah, sure, under you, I’d bet,” I muttered to Sara, giving her a wink. Some of the fear faded from her face, and I wished I was as able to make myself less afraid. But I was afraid for Orson, who hadn’t moved, and Shawn was still too close for me to risk going to him.

  Ranger seemed to know what I was thinking. He kept dancing back, always letting Shawn get close enough to swing before he backed away again. Finally, I felt safe leaving the cover of the counter and scooted across it, dropping next to Orson as he shook his head and retched a couple of times.

  “God that hurt.”

  I patted his arm and checked the knot on his head, which was already pronounced and ended at a cut that was oozing blood. “Hey, good news. You’re bleeding, but not gushing. Now get behind the counter, Sara called the police.

  The guys from the kitchen were gathered in the hall, Jose holding the others back as Ranger and Shawn circled each other.

  “C’mon, Marshal. You don’t need to keep fighting. We both know what’s making your gut burn and your mind scream. I don’t have a soul. I don’t have what you need.”

  Shawn cackled at him. “But you do have a soul, Demon. It’s twisted and broken, but it’s in there. That’s why you’ve stuck around, right? Because Darcy’s nice tits and perfect ass made you feel something.” I growled and he glanced my way. “Or maybe those big hazel eyes do it for you. Are you a sensitive demon?”

  “God damn it, Shawn. Shut up and get out or throw a punch, you damned weenie.” I grabbed the paring knife I used to cut limes and stalked toward them. “What the hell happened to you?”

  His eyes were wild as he glanced between Ranger and me, trying to keep us both in his line of sight. “That’s exactly right, Baby. Hell happened to me. The Hel with one ‘l’ that is, the place where souls go to suffer. I don’t think anyone can expect me to be quite the same after visiting that place.”

  “What a load of crap.” A man I’d never seen before stepped into the light. That is, he detached himself from the shadows and allowed us to see him. This was a demon. Not like Ranger, but like the demons of Shawn’s most terrifying stories.

  At first glance, he looked like a man, but that image shifted and changed like a hologram, until it made me dizzy to look at him. I backed away, putting distance between us, but it moved me closer to Shawn and Ranger, which seemed just as bad.

  “Leave her alone, Boras. This is the one you want. The marshal’s soul is already ripe for the plucking.” Ranger placed himself between us. “You know I can’t take her soul, so leave her out of it.”

  But the shifting demon’s red eyes fixed on me, and I couldn’t look away. “But she has something I want. Something we all want. He lunged for me and Ranger threw himself at him, pushing me back so hard I slammed against the last booth.

  Jose reached out for me, but Shawn got to me first, tearing at my clothes like an animal. Searching for the bottle I’d slipped out of my apron and tucked under the bench seat behind me. Jose shouted and the guys swarmed forward, grabbing Shawn, but hiding the real fight from view.

  I cupped the bottle in my hand as Shawn was dragged back and I scuttled like a crab toward the door so I could see Ranger. He and the demon were locked together, the demon screeching at Ranger, his face every changing, human, animal, something that was neither floated on the surface of his skin. But Ranger didn’t change. He didn’t turn red like Shawn was, or vibrate with some nauseating evil energy like the new creature.

  He began to glow, a soft golden light melting the chocolate from his eyes and turning it to sunlight. The botte in my hand warmed as if in answer to that glow, and I crept closer, looking for a chance to slip it to him, to give him that energy advantage he’d told me about.

  Behind me, Jose screamed a warning, and Shawn burst free of his captors, his eyes o
n me. “Time to die, bitch. Now you get to see Hel.”

  I screamed and slid back on the floor, and Shawn caught hold of my arms, clawing down my forearms as he scrabbled for the bottled clenched in my fist. He grinned at me, his eyes narrow slits that widened in surprise as he flew backward and into the same section of counter that he’d rammed Orson into.

  The shifting, changing demon Ranger had called Boras turned his attention to me, and on a split second of an idea, I threw the bottle at Ranger. “It wants you, Ranger, take it!” The demon threw himself back with t a shriek, but Ranger kicked out, catching it in the midsection as the bottle dropped into his palm. It dropped to the floor and rolled to one side as Ranger stared in wonder at the bottle, its contents growing more luminous by the second.

  Shawn attacked, and Ranger dodged to one side as Boras lunged with a knife, catching Shawn instead. He spun Shawn around and sliced his arm, catching the blood on a stone. Ranger grabbed the marshal blade from Shawn’s hand and stabbed Boras, who froze in place, even its shifting halted by the blade.

  “Shit, he always said that was how they did it, but holy shit, the knives really do stop demons.”

  Ranger nodded, panting. The poison is deadly to humans but can’t quite kill an immortal.” He sighed and motioned me to him. “I’m sorry he killed Shawn. I tried.”

  I stepped around the blood and bodies to get my kiss. “I know you did. You aren’t to…” Ranger let out a groan and I glanced down at Shawn, hanging from the blade embedded in Ranger’s side.

  “I won’t be dying any time soon, Demon. I’m like you now.”

  Ranger was frozen, his face contorted in pain. Shawn stood and glanced down at himself. “Put it off for too long, if you ask me.” He snarled at me and held out his hand. “Give me the soul.”

  “Fuck you.” I popped the cork off the brightly glowing bottle and forced it out of Ranger’s paralyzed hand. I poured the contents into his gaping mouth, praying that it would help him, heal him, at least free him from the paralysis that gripped him.

  Whatever I expected to happen, it was nothing compared to the blinding light that enveloped the room, forcing me to my knees, my hands pressed to my face.

  After moments of silence that stretched into an eternity, I heard Ranger’s voice. “Hey, Ms. O’Shay, it’s all right. You can open your eyes now.”

  The room was no longer lit like the sun, and Ranger, still softly glowing, helped me to my feet. Shawn was lying on the floor next to the body of the other demon. Otherwise, we were alone, surrounded by broken chairs and a few overturned tables.

  “What happened?”

  “The police are en route, to pick up the bodies of two men who killed one another, your ex-boyfriend, and the man he swore was a demon.”

  “Do the guys know what to say?”

  “They will. After what happened at your apartment, I don’t think anyone’s going to be checking the story too closely. Shawn snapped. That much is true, and the evidence supports it.”

  “What about you?”

  He looked down at his arms, ran his hands down his torso. “I don’t know yet. But I feel good. Better than I’ve felt since the last war between Hel and the Host.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d have said you were on the same side as the Host, not the demons.”

  A light seemed to ignite behind his eyes, like a long-lost memory dawning. I wanted to hold him, make him kiss me until I forgot what a man’s blood looked like outside his body, but the sirens were getting louder, and I had people to check on before the police arrived.

  Chapter 16

  Ranger

  By the time my memories of a life among the Host of Heaven began to return, the police had removed the bodies from O’Shay’s, sent Orson to the hospital, and warned Darcy that she’d have to stay closed for another day while their crime team gathered evidence.

  But I’d been right about the police too. They were all too happy to be done with covering for Shawn and handed him and his so-called ‘demon’ over to the marshal who arrived shortly after they had.

  Darcy told everyone to go home and collapsed in the nearest chair as the squad cars began to pull out of the parking lot, no sirens this time. Without a word I lifted her, carrying her in my arms like a child as I strode out of the building, turning out lights and locking the doors with a wave of my hand.

  “Not hiding it now, huh?”

  I grinned in the darkness and called a light to shine on our way. “it’s different when you can say your lover is an angel instead of a demon.”

  “Is that what you are?” she sighed, “are you an angel?” She snuggled into me. “I should’ve known. You were too genteel to be like that creature from the bar.” She lifted her head. “Or was it the poor bottled soul?”

  “You can’t bottle a soul, Darcy, don’t you worry.” I set her down in her car and moved to the other side, starting it without a key, which made her giggle again.

  But it was a quiet drive back to her home. I felt her guilt, grief, sadness, relief, and joy warring in her for priority. Luckily, I had just the cure to quiet her mind and take all thoughts from her.

  I refused to let her walk, carrying her up the stairs and stepping over her books and dishes so she could pretend her home was whole and unblemished. In the bedroom, I swept the clothes off the bed and laid her down, undressing her slowly as she stared into my eyes.

  “You are so beautiful,” she said softly, as she trailed her fingers down my arms. “You glow like a star.” It was the closest she’d come to what I once was, what I was becoming again. I stripped quickly, my need overwhelming everything else that I felt and everything that she felt. All that was left was her soft curves and silken skin under my hands, her tight, wetness wrapped around my glowing cock.

  She gasped, clutching my arms as I filled her with light and heat, drawing out of her slowly, then driving into her again. “You are the angel, Darcy O’Shay,” I panted as I drove her to climax around me. I am light, but you are the wings of the dove, a messenger from Heaven.”

  Darcy pulled me down to her, pressed my glowing skin against her warm flesh and I felt her soul in me with each thrust. “You are my soul,” she whispered, and for a moment it was true. Our bodies melted away as she clenched me tightly inside her, our souls melting into one as I roared my climax over her screaming my name.

  The light under my skin faded and I collapsed beside her, drawing one leg over me. “Ms. O’Shay, you have ruined me.”

  “Damn DeVries,” she let out a throaty chuckle, “if that’s all it takes, wait until I catch my breath and show you what I can really do.”

  I scooped her into my stomach and held her close. One night or forever I’d found my Heaven, and it had hair of fire, eyes of green gold flame, and a heart that could heal Hel itself.

  The End

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  About the Authors

  USA Today bestselling authors, Graceley Knox and D.D. Miers may be long-lost sisters, but their moms continue to deny it. They are most definitely the co-writers of the Kresova Vampire Harem series, as well as a multitude of other upcoming projects they can't wait to share with readers. Together they tend to share the same brain, finish each other's thoughts, laugh way too hard at inappropriate comments, drink enough coffee to qualify for an intervention, and talk about their fur babies. When they're not chatting, which is always, they can be found all over social media hanging out with their author friends and readers!

  Chapter 1

  Lilith watched the moon rising high into the ebony sky, her ice blue eyes following it until it bathed the Night Court in shadows, shadows she loved and preferred over people. The night was hers to rule, to devour the light of any who dared to enter her fortress. All but one man was brazen enough to cross her path, and he was the King and her father.

  It was
what had forced her to be here tonight, unwilling. Once a year he would summon her here, give her a list of her princess duties, and then she’d retire to her mother’s castle, the Castle of Shadows. It was her sanctuary away from the court she hated and loathed. Plus, the growing list of princes from other castes or courts was a never-ending nightmare, one she wanted to avoid at all cost. Unlike her many sisters who wanted to marry for hierarchy and their place in it.

  Lilith, though, she was the legal heir by court law. The highest prize that none had the balls to try for. She was her father’s heir by right, his only legitimate child. She was also the only one who didn’t want the burden of the crown he wore, not that she’d made that notion well-known.

  “The king is ready for you, Princess Lilith,” Lothian muttered as his dark, heavy gaze gave her a withering once-over.

  She swiped at an invisible piece of lint on her midnight colored dress and righted her quiver that was slung over her shoulder. “Any idea why I’m here earlier than normal?” she queried, her ice blue eyes slowly settling on his as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and waited for his answer.

  “That is something only he can tell you, if you’ll just follow me,” he indicated with a wave of his arm towards the high, double doors that were glinted with moonstones. “He awaits you.”

  She frowned, her face tightening with concernment as she took the lead, dismissing the guard who had to be as old as the castle stones and yet didn’t look a single day over thirty. A benefit of being immortal, un-aging beauty that gave them a certain flawlessness humans and other creatures prayed or sold their soul for.

  Inside the braziers were lit, the room was bathed in light and beauty as the heady scent of the midnight blue citrus trees bloomed. Her footsteps were light over the moonstones that covered the floor in a delicate pattern of the Tree of Life, from which Faery drew its power. A giant picture of the Stag covered the wall behind the raised dais of her father’s throne; his gentle matching eyes found her and softened as she approached.