By the time we arrive at the The Nest, she is breathing hard and doesn’t hesitate when I hold the door for her. She flies in like she owns the place. Rain soaked, apprehensive and weary, we both turn to face Gage who is standing in the middle of the room, bare-ass naked and grinning like he just won the lottery. Well, this should be interesting.
Dalia
When the magic forced me to shift into my Raven, a sense of calm flooded my body. No longer fearful, I draw strength from the power of my Raven and I follow her instincts. Instincts that tell me the shifter who ran away from me is my best chance at survival.
There is a certain comfort in encountering your own kind in situations such as this. After all, there’s a code among Ravens. We protect our own and when one of us is in trouble, we are bound to assist.
I take special note of the landscape that we fly over, as we run from the horrible blaring alarm. It’s all shadows and patches of grey. Faded cement towers and buildings with jagged, wicked rocks below. A persistent mist that hangs around, despite the hurricane force winds. This place is eerie and an overtone of evil and malcontent hangs over it. At least the shack that he brings me to has a small sliver of light.
Desperate to get out of the rain, I fly into the building, skidding to a stop before I run beak-first into a very large, very blonde, very naked, very...happy-looking man. Against my will, I feel myself shifting back--the magic of the Island taking over my body again. From the sounds behind me, the magic is forcing my Raven guide to shift too. With an agonized grunt, we both pop back into our human forms and the three of us stand awkwardly in the room. All of us are naked.
With a subtle look at both, I can see that the two men are twins. They are blonde and muscular with the powerful arms of men accustomed to manual labor. The first one is still grinning at me, while the other looks vaguely apologetic. No one speaks and the magic continues to swirl around us and I start to catch a chill.
Before I can open my mouth to speak and break this silence, I can feel the magic build again. My skin begins to crawl as the electricity buzzes across my skin. It feels like an unwanted caress and I shiver, trying to shake it off, steadfastly ignoring the dark chuckle of laughter that sounds on the wind.
As quickly as it appeared, the feeling suddenly stops. Everything stops. The wind, the rain, the storm. It’s as if we are frozen in a bubble, immune to the outside world. A feeling of dread rises in me but it’s too late. The magic has taken hold. My body begins to burn and I see a blue mist begin to swirl around me.
“Help, please help me!” I whisper, looking frantically at the two men in the room. The mist swirls faster and I can feel my body start to burn. The men stand there, frozen and transfixed as they watch me.
I scream as the burning mist reaches my face and engulfs my entire body. A sharp gust of wind blows through the door, knocking me to my knees and the mist slowly dissipates.
I look down and see my body is covered now. Navy blue coveralls with bright orange stitching cover my body. There, on the right chest pocket, reads the words “New Recruit.”
I claw at the stitching, trying in vain to scratch it out of existence.
“No, this isn’t supposed to happen. I am not… this isn’t my future. This isn’t my destiny. It can’t be.” My voice catches as I slowly sit up, looking around the shack and staring at the two men. They both look at me with guarded looks. The smiley one looks uncertain and my Raven guide looks crestfallen.
“Check your left pocket.” He whispers at me, gesturing at the packet of papers that had appeared with my coveralls.
Slowly, I pull the thick packet out of my pocket and read the first page. A white hot rage unlike anything else I have ever felt fills me as I read:
Duty Orders: Dalia Rowen, Raven Clan Rowen.
Assigned Duty: Raven Sentry Recruit, Shadow Island SuperMax Prison
Training Officers Assigned: Raven Sentry #657 and #658
Duty Term: Permanent
Without a word to my hosts, I stomp out of the room and out the door, determined to find a way off this cursed island. Shadow Island SuperMax Prison is not my destiny. I will find a way out, if I have to fight The Fates themselves to do it.
The End (For Now)
Enjoyed Reporting For Duty? Be sure to leave a review! Want to be alerted when the Raven Sentries of Shadow Island comes out this summer? Be sure to follow my BookBub! Note: Raven Sentries of Shadow Island is a paranormal prison romance with MFM couplings.
About the Author
Bee Murray is an emerging romance writer based out of the Pacific Northwest. She enjoys spending time with her family, staring out at a stormy ocean, diving headfirst into the magical worlds created by her favorite authors and cheese plates. A voracious reader turned writer, she dreams of everything from grand adventures with deep complex characters to pun-filled romantic comedy and the strange nonsense that lives somewhere in-between. She likes to genre-hop but spends a lot of time writing in the realms of paranormal romance, reverse harem, mythology, and urban fantasy.
For more information on upcoming projects or to stay in touch, you can find her on Facebook and Instagram or on Twitter Come say hi?
Rock, Meet Hard Place
Magic, Mayhem, & Rebellion Series
Jen Ponce
About Rock, Meet Hard Place
Mayhem isn’t an ordinary gargoyle. He has dreams. He has a fricking boulder list and his number one desire is to go Above. Cue Korri Marchand, Queen of Hell. She has a job for Mayhem and his friend Crush if they’re willing: go Above and protect her friend Poppy.
The catch?
Gargoyle magic doesn’t travel, which means Mayhem and Crush must become flesh and blood witches. It’s all right though, their meat suits are large, their muscles hard, and their dimples on point. They’re ready to keep Poppy safe whether she likes it or not … and oh, she does not like it.
Rock? Meet hard place.
Chapter One
The woman who’d taken Hecate’s throne was bloodthirsty.
I liked her.
It was too bad she’d gotten caught up with the demons first, though at least she’d tangled herself with a few of the good ones. When she called me to the Star of Thirteen for an audience, our clan leader Muckrake didn’t want me to go. “They’re demons, Mayhem. They don’t hold true to their word to our kind,” he’d said, and I knew this was so. But I also knew that Malphas and Lux had always treated me with respect. I didn’t know either Abaddon or Baphomet very well, but they seemed to agree with their fellow demons that Korri Marchand Kronos was all right.
Better than all right considering the heated looks they gave her and the way they growled when anyone got near her.
Ah, lust. It was a beautiful thing.
Even though he disagreed with my decision to talk with Korri, Muckrake didn’t stop me from going. Instead, he asked me to take my brother with me. My brother then insisted he bring a couple friends, so of course I had to bring one too.
The five of us set off with a whomp of our wings and took to the red skies of Hell, flying south from our home to the capital city of the demons. I was a weird gargoyle in that I enjoyed seeing new places. Most of our kind liked to stick close to their homes, to the buildings they guarded and the mountains they roamed. I’d never had that same desire. I wanted to see the world or even other worlds and I had the niggling suspicion the demons held the key to fulfilling that desire.
“What are we doing?” my brother asked. Massacre was a big ‘goyle like me, though his skin was onyx, shot through with thin veins of ruby. I wasn’t that pretty and that was okay. My skin was the grey of a stormy sea and I turned silver when wet, way cooler than Mass, who just looked greasy.
“We’re flying to meet with the new Queen of Hell. Duh.”
He gave me a look that told me he thought I was an idiot. “Why are we at the demons’ beck and call?”
“We aren’t. We’re merely dropping in for a friendly visit with a nearby ruler. How can that be bad for
our clan? And maybe we’ll get some boons from the new queen.”
He snorted. “You always were a dreamer.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“And yet I feel lighter and happier because of it.” I put a bit of oomph into my wings and pulled ahead of Mass to catch up with my friend Crush. “Ugh,” I said.
“Bro giving you fits?”
“When doesn’t he?”
Crush nodded in sympathy. He had five brothers and three sisters. He knew what a pain it was to have siblings. “Why are Havoc and Slaughter along for the ride?”
I tipped my head to the side, a ‘goyles substitute for a shrug in mid-flight. “I think they want to see the new queen as much as Mass does, though none of them would ever admit it.”
“I want to see her. I hear she’s got a harem of demons at her beck and call.”
“Yup. Big names, too. Malphas. Lux. Baphomet. Abaddon.”
“Holy shit.”
I grinned. It had given me cred, being able to say I’d met the new queen before she’d become a queen. Some of the demons were not happy about her new position, which made things even better.
“Pruflas is pissed.”
“Good. He’s a dick and he deserves to get his ass handed to him by a woman. A mortal woman.” I considered. “A killer.”
“Yeah?”
I shrugged again. “So I’ve heard. I haven’t seen her in action, unfortunately, but the buzz around Tzalba is that she’s stabbing her way through the magi, setting demons free.”
“Eh.”
We ‘goyles hadn’t always had the best relationship with the demons. They were power-hungry asses for the most part and they seemed to think they were better than gargoyles for some unknown reason. We, of course, were superior, but we didn’t have to flop our dicks out at the measuring contest because we already knew ours were bigger. The clans liked to live on their own terms away from the rigid governmental structures the demons put in place and we definitely kept away from the ones who styled themselves royalty, though as I’d told Muckrake, the demons surrounding the new queen were a better lot than most.
They’d invited us to fight with them, hadn’t they?
We landed in the capital a couple hours later, all of us shaking the dust off our wings before tucking them against our backs. My shoulders ached from the flight, but it was a good pain. “If you feel pain, you’re alive. If you’re alive, you can fight.” Some ancient ‘goyle warrior had said that way back in the mists of time, I couldn’t remember who. Mass would because Mass was a nerd. A scary nerd, but a nerd, nonetheless.
We made our way to the Star of Thirteen, the massive courtyard surrounding the raised dais where the thrones sat filled with demons. Demons stank when they started crowding up and these demons were no exception. Since I didn’t want to be rude and plug my nose, I forced myself to breathe through my mouth.
“Dear granite, what is that stench?”
I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Havoc to cause a fight. “Shut up, Hav.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t smell it,” he said. He obviously didn’t care if he was rude or not. His hand was already pressed up under his nose, the expression on his face one of extreme disgust.
I stepped close and said, “Don’t fucking ruin this for us before it even begins.”
“Sure. Okay.” He gave me an exaggerated thumb’s up.
He was the fucking king of sarcasm and I made myself a mental note to kick Massacre’s ass later for bringing him.
“Mayhem!” It was a female voice and it carried out over the demons, who hushed as if they were waiting for her to spew some amazing speech or something, but all she did was bound down the stairs, her half-black, half-white hair bouncing in its ponytail. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She stopped in front of me and grinned, not cowed in the least by my towering presence.
I liked her. She was like a stabby little doll and I wanted to play with her.
Though one look over at her demons changed my mind about that. Maybe they shared amongst themselves, but it didn’t look like they were going to be any more generous than that.
“You called, I came.”
“And brought friends,” she said, eying my companions.
“Let me make intros,” I said, and I did.
“I appreciate you coming on such short notice, but I have a question for you and, depending on your answer, that question could lead to a quest. Kinda sorta.”
“A quest?”
She shrugged. “That makes it sound better than what it really is.”
“Which is?”
“Come with me. Let’s take a load off and talk. Abaddon? Can we chat at your place?”
I hated traveling the way the demons did—through time and space. It was unnatural. Fast, but dear granite it felt nasty. When we arrived, Slaughter looked a little green around the gills, though I supposed that could have just been moss I hadn’t noticed before. ‘Goyles tend to grow moss if we aren’t careful. It’s a nasty bit of work that can end up cracking your face if you let it spread.
The mad king’s home was impressive. Spiky, unforgiving walls, red stone that reminded me of my cousin Ruin, and minimal furniture. Apparently, Abaddon didn’t encourage visitors or want them to linger. We followed him to a smaller room that did have furniture and we all settled inside uncomfortably.
There were too many of us crammed in the room and when Abaddon realized, he shifted the stone to accommodate us all. Impressive.
“Why are we here?” Mass asked, his eyes on Korri.
“Well, I don’t know. I asked Mayhem. If you came with him, then answer your own question.”
His eyes narrowed. I wanted to laugh at him but managed to choke that down. “What do you need from me?” I asked and she beamed at me as if I were her kid who’d just brought home great grades.
“My friend Poppy has been arrested and thrown into prison. Her boyfriend was taken the same night she was. I need to know how he is and where he is. I also need someone who can stay behind and protect Poppy.”
“Poppy?” Havoc asked.
“My friend. It’s a long story, but she was the reason I started killing magi. She’s the reason I’m here now. Without her need to get revenge, I might not have figured out the magi were enslaving demons for centuries. Now they’re free but she’s not and I need someone on the inside protecting her until she’s ready to have me get her out.”
I arched a brow. “Why not just take her out?”
“Because it’s her choice not to accept my help.”
“It might not be her choice to have someone protect her, then,” Slaughter said.
“You’re right. I know this is wrong, but I can’t let her stay there alone. I think a very powerful magus wants her dead and I think he’s already trying to get her killed. I know this is a big ask, but—”
“I’ll go,” I said.
My brother looked at me as if I’d grown three heads or maybe joked about how rock wouldn’t dare beat paper. “Are you insane?”
“New world, new me. Send me. I’m down.”
Mass rolled his eyes. Crush, however, was leaning forward, eyes gleaming, his sandstone skin as rough as sandpaper. “You mean Above, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Korri said. “Inside a prison built by the magi to house their political prisoners. Oh, they don’t reference it that way, but that’s what it really boils down to. Anyway, I need you down there as soon as you can go because she’s already been beaten. I can’t lose her.”
Crush nodded his understanding; granite, we all did. ‘Goyles stuck together. Clan loyalty was paramount, as was familial, and romantic loyalty. Lone wolf ‘goyles didn’t exist. For long, anyway. “I’ll go too.”
Korri waited in case anyone else would speak up but my brother and his friends were silent. Not surprising. Massacre hadn’t gotten my love of adventure. “Thank you. I really appreciate this. Anything you need before you go down, during, after, just let me kno
w.”
Chapter Two
“All we got to do is punch a Keeper she said.” Crush was looking mighty uncomfortable in his witch clothes. We ‘goyles didn’t usually cover ourselves. Our stone skin and lack of modesty meant we were naked twenty-four seven but here we’d been reduced to fleshy bodies that needed protecting from the elements. “How do they stand this?”
“Feeling like rubbery snot? I do not fucking know, but dude, we’re Above.” I’d never quite been this excited before. Number one item on my boulder list and I’d already checked it off.
“True that,” Crush said and bumped knuckles with me. “What do these Keepers look like?”
I pulled out the info from my pocket, then handed it to my friend. “We could probably toss a rock through one of their windows too. It sounds like it doesn’t take much to stir the wrath of the magi.”
Korri and Lux had brought us Above and dropped us off in a place they called Hell’s Mudroom. Korri gave us a tour, gave us info about the history of the place, the types of people who lived here, the conflict between the magi and witches that stretched back centuries. It sounded a lot like the troubles between ‘goyles and demons, though our strife didn’t involve enslavement. We’d kicked demon asses the last time they tried to invade our clan territory and tell us it was theirs. Pruflas still thought we were squatting on his land but Pruflas could go fuck himself with a sword because it was ours.
“Do you want to get something to eat before we get thrown in the clink?” Crush asked, eying the food in the stalls with the intensity of a starving ‘goyle.”
Hexes and Handcuffs: A Limited Edition Collection of Supernatural Prison Stories Page 43
