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Taming My Human

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Book Cover: Taming My Human
Find a StoreApple BooksBarnes and NobleKoboGooglePlayAmazon/Kindle
Part of the The Dragocracy Chronicles series:
  • Training My Human
  • Serving My Dragon
  • Taming My Human

Can a loner be the hero they need?

Being a grumpy ex-soldier means I like being alone. What better place for solitude, far from home and bad memories, than a remote chalet in Italy? Peace and quiet, just what I need to write my next book. You know what they say about best laid plans, right? Somehow I end sheltering a single mom on the run with her kid—and a talking lizard.

How the hell did that happen?

Guess being ornery doesn’t mean I lack a heart because I end up offering them refuge.

Nicky and her toddler, escaping an abusive situation and looking for a fresh start.

Percy, the reptile who turns out to be a dragon and needs constant feeding and protection.

For some reason, they trust me. Me, the man who can’t even sleep through the night.

Then again, who else better to safeguard than a man who’s not afraid to act? I might have retired from action, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how to track down the enemy and make them pay.

If you dare to threaten those I care about, I promise, it will be the last thing you do.

* * *


Lucky me, I’ve found not one but two humans to serve me. Although the big male will take some taming before he shows me the proper respect. But I think he’ll be worth the effort. After all, when I need him most, he risks his life without hesitation. As he should. Because after all, there is no one more important than me.



Find a Store

Available on: 2026-01-08
Cover Artists:
Alex with Addictive Covers (Website)
Genres:
dark humor, killer hero, Paranormal Romance, single mom
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Prologue

Abaddon’s narrow gaze fixed with irritation on the gray-haired man hunched over his computer. Name of Malone, the doctor had mistakenly thought he could control and even experiment on dragons. The nerve! He’d since been taught the error of his ways and now found himself a prisoner.

A prisoner that still lacked respect.

Despite being captured and forced to work for Abaddon—the greatest dragon in the world—the wretched scientist persisted in being surly, uncooperative, and just plain annoying.

READ MORE

For example, despite Abaddon’s demand for a full list of volcanoes that had been tampered with—unnaturally forced to erupt—Malone avoided giving a direct reply. Instead, he posed his own question. “Why would you want to know about the cones that failed to react to the protocol?” In other words, volcanoes that didn’t blow their top. Malone also fell back on, “Why waste your time checking out the places that didn’t produce a dragon?”

Because Abaddon wanted to be sure no eggs had hatched. The fact Malone and his subordinates hadn’t detected a dragon at these supposed failed attempts didn’t mean one of his kind hadn’t emerged from its shell. And even if the suspected dragon hadn’t matured, Abaddon still wanted it. A collection of potential rivals had some appeal.

“Stop being difficult and hand over the locations of the volcanoes you tampered with,” Abaddon commanded.

“Or what? Kill me and you won’t get any answers.”

Nostrils steamed as irritation boiled within, fueling a belly full of flames. How easy it would be to incinerate Malone into a smoldering pile of ash. However, Abaddon had to restrain himself because, while annoying, the man with the silvery temples held a veritable treasure trove of knowledge in his head. Pity cracking open his skull and slurping his brains wouldn’t transfer that information. It had been tried to no avail in the past.

“You seem to forget I can make your life unpleasant,” Abaddon pointed out.

“It already is, so you can stop with the threats. Why don’t you go bother Leo? He’s the one who paid for the operation,” a surly Malone reminded without even turning to look at him. Such disregard for Abaddon’s royal presence.

Ah yes, Leo. A man who’d initially been partnered with Malone in their quest for hatching dragons. He’d since been shown the error of his ways. Once Leo met Abaddon—and narrowly missed being turned into a crispy kebab—he couldn’t fawn hard enough, or as Abaddon’s first servant, Pip, liked to say, “He’s got his nose shoved so deep up your ass, it’s a wonder he can breathe.”

She did have a point, even if her delivery lacked eloquence. Leo worshipped dragons. Would do anything to serve, including signing over his home, property, and wealth. Because of Leo’s bestowal, Abaddon now owned a sizeable hoard, even if he couldn’t actually touch it. The modern world relied quite a bit on virtual currency, as opposed to more concrete items like the gold and jewels dragons usually preferred.

“You know very well Leo can’t access the files since you slapped a password on them,” Abaddon grumbled. The man had appeared shocked—and cursed quite a bit—when he tried to show Abaddon all he and Malone had discovered only to find himself locked out.

“Did I?” Malone quipped, his tone slightly mocking.

Teeth gnashing did little to stem Abaddon’s irritation. “One day, I’m going to forget the fact you’re a brilliant scientist and eat you.”

The comment finally had Malone half turning to offer a hate-filled glare. “I hope you choke on my bones when you do.”

Given the fruitlessness of the conversation, Abaddon left Malone chained to his desk—quite literally, since the man couldn’t be trusted. There’d been incidents, such as the time he tried to flood the habitat which, due to some built-in safety protocols, would have forced open all the doors.

The untrustworthy doctor would be unshackled and removed from the lab around dinnertime, when Maddox or Pip would relocate him for the rest of the night to his cell, a simple room with only the basics. Cruel? Not really, given Malone had initially planned to imprison Abaddon and experiment on him.

Again, Abaddon couldn’t believe the utter gall of a human thinking they could poke and prod a dragon by force. Meanwhile, had Malone politely asked and explained he wanted tissue samples and measurements to better understand a dragon’s greatness, Abaddon might have agreed. After all, he, too, was curious about what particular characteristics were unique to his kind.

As Abaddon trudged from the lab on four mighty paws, his girth barely fitting through the door frame, he ran into Pip. Dear, sweet Pip. His very first servant. A human woman in her third decade with silvery hair and artwork inked all over her body. She could be mouthy, but he forgave it because she always spoke honestly and had proven herself loyal.

“Hey, Big Fella,” she said, greeting him with his new nickname since he’d finally grown sizeable enough that using the word “little” would have been an insult. “Glad I found you. You’ve got someone waiting to chat on video.”

“Who?” he asked with casual nonchalance even as excitement filled him. He only ever received calls from one particular individual.

“It’s your girlfriend,” Pip sang, giving him a wink.

“Pollita is not my girlfriend,” Abaddon huffed. Although, she was currently the top contender for future maternal progenitor when he decided to fertilize some eggs. She was also the only other dragon in existence, that he knew of, and she currently lived in South America, a whole continent away. Not that distance mattered. Already he could fly vast stretches without rest.

Soon, very soon, they would meet in the flesh.

“Whatever you say,” Pip chirped. “Anyhow, your not-girlfriend is on the big screen by your chaise.”

“I guess I should see what she wants,” was his nonchalant reply as he made his way over to said seat. Abaddon’s current location, an underground complex of vast size, had been originally meant to serve as a luxury prison—the luxurious part being against Malone’s wishes. The scientist had thought a simple large cell with restraints would be suitable, but Leo, who’d long loved and been obsessed with dragons, insisted on a more lavish space. Since Abaddon had captured Malone and converted Leo, it turned out the underground installation actually suited him better than the main floor of the ranch house overhead. The massive dome with branching chambers held everything Abaddon could need. Aerial perches. A stocked pond big enough for a growing dragon to float. Furniture meant to hold his increasing girth. Overhead, bay doors could slide open, allowing him to leave and stretch his wings in flight. It also gave him the opportunity to hunt. The land all around held abundant wildlife as well as herds of goats, cattle, and sheep.

Not wanting to appear too eager, Abaddon took his time strutting to the well-stuffed chair that offered a comfortable seat for a dragon his size. Almost as big as a bull, he’d been eating well since his hatching. Even better of late, now that he could truly hunt larger specimens. As a result, he’d been shedding often as his flesh expanded.

Upon seating himself on what he liked to think of as his throne, Abaddon allowed his gaze to settle on the large, suspended screen displaying the female, Pollita. She appeared quite fetching, her growth not as drastic as his—a female trait—but she’d been maturing. Just look at those sexy nubs pushing up from the crown of her head.

“Hey, Abba,” she crooned upon seeing him. It should be noted, only she got away with that ridiculous shortening of his chosen name.

“I assume there is a reason for your call.” Dragons didn’t play around with words like humans and tended to jump right to the point.

“I was bored,” she admitted. “It’s been storming the past few days.”

“Afraid to get wet?” he teased.

“More like everything yummy is hiding. The only good thing about this weather is I’ve been charging up on all the lovely lightning bolts,” she admitted. While Abaddon possessed the gift of fire—the kind that could melt almost anything—Pollita inherited that of electricity.

“It’s still cold here. The snow’s now several feet deep all over.” Apparently, winter would last a few more months. Just his luck to be hatched in a country that spent half the year suffering from frigid temperatures.

“I can’t wait to visit you. I’m so tired of doing nothing.”

“Dragons aren’t supposed to do anything. That’s what servants are for,” he reminded.

“My humans have been catering to my every need. Even the ones I didn’t know I had. It’s making me feel quite useless,” she grumbled.

Abaddon masked his expression to hide his jealousy. His own retinue remained rather sparse given the fact Pip thought they needed to be discreet about who learned about his existence. Pollita, on the other claw, had lucked out. Her first servant, a Peruvian named Mathias, came with a rather large family who’d been eager to pledge devotion to Pollita. “What is it exactly you wish to do?”

“Something. Anything!” Pollita exclaimed. “I want a meaningful task. Something that will advance us towards our goal of world domination.” A feat all dragons strove for.

“We’ve already begun the steps,” he reminded. They’d been investing their wealth in something called stocks, a way to apparently gain control of human industries. With enough ownership came power, with power came influence, with influence came the eventual revelation that dragons existed. Once that secret was unveiled, they would begin the conversion of the population from obeying human mismanaged governments to dragon rule. Or as he liked to call it, Dragocracy.

“I know we have, but it’s such a slow and utterly dull process,” she lamented, pouting prettily, not something he was used to seeing from the usually happy dragoness.

His muzzle pursed. “You haven’t shed recently.” He pinpointed the real reason for her discontent. Hormones.

“No, I haven’t,” she sulked. “I don’t understand. I’ve been eating so well and yet it’s been weeks since my last molt.”

“It’s coming,” he promised. “Females have ever been slower to grow.”

“So unfair,” Pollita grumbled. “Here you are, hatched after me, and yet look at you. Much larger already.”

She’d noticed? He casually expanded his chest. “Your growth will come.”

A sigh huffed from her, the heat of it momentarily misting the camera. “I know. I’m just impatient. On to other matters. Have you had any luck with the locations of the other eggs from our spawning?”

According to Leo, who’d uncovered some ancients scrolls, their maternal progenitor had allowed a human scribe to note where she’d dropped her eggs. Although “note” was being generous. The clues left behind were vague, saying things such as “where the mountains rise and touch the clouds” and “overlook a lake with serpentine creatures”. It didn’t help that it had been eons since those references had been penned and the landscapes that once might have seemed distinctive had changed.

“Leo’s been working on the clues and has come up with some possible locations.”

“As have my servants,” Pollita interjected. “But we won’t know if their theories are correct until we find an actual egg.”

“Hence why I’ve begun a subtle effort to recruit people to scout those locations.” So subtle, Abaddon didn’t have anyone yet, but he wasn’t about to let Pollita know that he’d been lax about forming a scouting team.

“You really think a human can tell a dragon egg from a regular rock?” she scoffed.

“Probably not. Most likely, once I get to be a proper size, I shall go hunt for them myself.”

“Destroy the competition before it hatches. A wise plan of action if this were another time. Given the way humans have exploded population-wise, we might need allies.”

“Allies that will later require elimination if we’re to rule the world,” Abaddon countered.

“Are you scared of competition?” Pollita purred.

“No,” he blurted. As if he’d lose.

“What of the scientist Malone? Have you eaten him yet for being insubordinate?”

“He lives. For the moment. He thinks himself clever for refusing to divulge which volcanoes he attempted to ignite. However, Pip has a hacker who’s been working on his encrypted files. Once they’re cracked, we will know everything.”

“Do you think we’re the only ones who hatched through his machinations?” she asked.

“He seems to think those other attempts failed.” But then again, Malone had also thought Pollita dead, and look how wrong he’d been about that.

“My servant, Juan, has been using his connections to get a list of all the volcanoes that erupted in the past few years. Of those documented, six were unexpected and could have been induced by your Malone.”

“If you want to send me what he’s found, I can have Leo compare those locations to see if by any chance their descriptions match our clues.”

“Excellent idea,” Pollita stated, and he almost preened at the praise. “I’ve also had some of my other servants combing the internet for any stories of mysterious flying creatures or an uptick in the loss of herds in areas of eruption.”

“Good thinking,” he complimented. Beautiful and smart.

Pollita half turned as if she heard something. “Time for me to go. They just rang the dinner bell.”

“Before you do…” He lowered his voice. “I figure another few months and I’ll be able to plot a course to visit. That is, if you would like to meet still.”

Her teeth gleamed as she replied, “I would like that very much, Abba.”

It took all his fortitude to remain stoic rather than give in to giddiness. “Like you, I must go now. Important matters to attend.”

They ended the call and he allowed himself a loud bugle of excitement.

“Someone’s happy,” Pip noted, having returned.

“Don’t know what you mean,” he fibbed even as he fairly vibrated with anticipation. “Open the doors. I need to hunt.” And feed. And grow. Because a certain female dragon waited for him.

Best he cement that alliance before she discovered he’d told a lie. Despite him asking her to send a list of activated volcanoes her servant had sniffed out, he already knew of them. One in particular happened to be a name Leo recognized. “I remember Mount Amiata. It was the first one we tried to erupt, only nothing really happened other than heightened underground seismic activity. Malone was so pissed.”

Leo and Malone had assumed that the lack of the top blown off the mountain meant their attempt to hatch a dragon failed. After all, increased magma wouldn’t matter if the egg wasn’t anywhere near a lava flow. But… what if an egg did crack and its occupant perished because it never found its way to the surface? Or worse, what if it built up its strength while remaining hidden inside the mountain?

There could be another male out there who would become competition for Pollita’s attention. The very thought had him steaming.

She’s mine. Because dragons didn’t share.

Chapter 1

The curser blinked repeatedly and I wanted to punch it. I didn’t appreciate the way it kept mocking my inability to type anything of worth.

My editor expected a finished manuscript before the end of the month. In her defense, I’d had two years to write it. Two years of struggling to find the words. It didn’t help I’d spent most of them drunk. The bottle became my best friend after my wife left me for another dude, but even more traumatizing, she took my dog, Buster. I still missed that big goof even as I stalked her social media and saw him living his best life, playing fetch.

With another man.

The betrayal bit deep.

To escape it all, and with my deadline rapidly approaching, I’d recently fled the USA and temporarily relocated to a spot close to Mount Amiata in Italy. Drastic, I know, but my editor had a friend with a friend whose cousin owned a chalet that wasn’t usually rented in the winter since its remote location made it difficult to reach once the snow started falling.

The privacy—and absence of triggering memories, such as the couch where Buster and I used to snuggle—suited my needs even if I didn’t have use of the extra bedrooms it came with. Situated a fair distance up a mountain and reached by a sketchy, narrow, single-lane road, the chalet possessed a basic kitchen, which matched my cooking skill. The living room with a fireplace meant exercise in the form of splitting logs—and yeah, I’d been swinging that ax plenty since I’d kicked myself off the booze. And when I worked myself sore, there was a hot tub for soaking while enjoying the view. No neighbors equaled no distractions. As for my liver? It got a break since the nearest bar required me to drive. Even I knew better than to drink and drive, because despite my shitshow of a life, I didn’t want to die.

Should have been the perfect place to put my fingers to the typing grindstone.

Nope.

I fucking hated it. Never thought myself a social guy until I literally had no one to talk to. It should be noted that when I lived in the city, I rarely spoke to anyone, but I could have. If I’d wanted to.

And here I was, procrastinating again. I stared at the screen, fingers frozen over the keyboard, once more cursing myself for choosing to become a writer. At the time, recovering from being injured in the line of duty—with a leg that never fully healed from the shrapnel despite the surgeries and rehab—I needed something to keep my mind busy. It had been my therapist who’d suggested I begin journaling as a way to work through what I’d experienced. I thought it dumb, and yet, I tried it, writing down what I remembered but from the perspective of a third party, as if I watched what had happened from the outside. It didn’t help the nightmares, but I found myself enjoying the soothing nature of putting into words some of the things I experienced. Given the private nature of a journal, I spilled every thought and emotion into it, never expecting anyone to read it.

My now ex-wife stole what I wrote and sent it in to an editor she knew. When she told me, I was pissed. So very, very pissed, until the publishing house made me an offer with a crazy number of zeroes attached. For a guy struggling to maintain a household and his dignity on a disability check, the contract they offered felt like winning the lottery. That first book made me enough I forgave my ex and embarked on a new career.

Five years later and I could claim without arrogance that I was good at it. Who knew my gritty times in the field and trenches would have an audience? Avid readers were patiently—and not-so-patiently, according to various DMs and emails—waiting for the next book in my ongoing series, Sniper Behind the Lines, featuring a better version of my ornery ass, Brett Maverick. Given I couldn’t talk about most of my missions without being arrested for treason, I had to make changes to ensure the stories were fictional. However, I knew enough and had seen enough that scenarios proved easy—usually—to develop. Then there were the sensory details I could relate. How the grit of the Middle East clung to the skin and tongue, the feel and weight of the rifle, the way I’d sink into a trance as I lined up a shot, the adrenaline of battle. According to reviews, I knew how to suck a reader in and make them feel as if they were actually there.

Seeing as how my last two novels hit the bestseller lists, the pressure mounted to produce a sequel that wouldn’t suck. Hard to do when I just wanted to wallow in my misery.

My high school sweetheart, who’d seen me through all the physio sessions and held me when I woke shouting from nightmares, suddenly decided—after I found fame and fortune—that she wanted a different man. One without a bum leg. One who liked to dance. A guy who could give her kids. In other words, someone who wasn’t broken.

I shoved away from the desk as self-pity overwhelmed.

Fuck me. I wanted a drink so bad, but I’d intentionally left booze off my weekly deliveries, and the two times I’d gone to town I’d avoided the temptation to buy a bottle. Because one bottle led to two, and next thing I knew I’d find myself pissing in the most inappropriate places. Apartment building vestibule. My own fucking shoe by my front door.

Not cool.

Despite that, I craved the mindlessness that came from lots of alcohol. Maybe a dip in the hot tub would relax my ass. I needed to clear my head so the words could flow.

Throwing on a robe, with my feet loosely shoved into my boots, I headed out to the deck with its awesome view of Mount Amiata. Located in the Tuscany region, the long dormant volcano was a popular spot for hiking in the spring, summer, and fall, and skiing in the winter. A winter that started out slow until after the New Year. Within the last week, a layer of snow had fallen and covered everything in a blanket of white. Pretty but cold. With its arrival, just about every rental and hotel in the area was about to get booked solid. I didn’t have to worry, though. I had this place for as long as I needed since the owner didn’t usually rent during the winter months because of the difficulty getting to and from the chalet.

Given I didn’t have to worry about being seen, I stripped naked and sank into the hot tub, my muscles immediately relaxing in the bubbling, hot water. Sigh. I did enjoy this particular amenity. It eased the almost constant ache in my leg. It had me thinking of buying one for my place. The house I’d gotten to keep in the divorce. The place that killed me with memories every time I walked in the door.

I really should sell. Get myself some place new. One bedroom, since there would be no kids. Or maybe two, so I had a place to put my hot tub and sauna. I’d have asked my therapist what he thought, only I didn’t trust him anymore since he’d gotten together with my ex.

He’d almost died for it. I’d had the doctor in my scope’s sights a few nights as I lay on the roof of the building adjacent to his condo. My finger had tensed on the trigger, but in the end, I couldn’t kill Gary. Yeah, he was banging Elodie. Yeah, he was the one Buster now pissed on in excitement when he got home from work. But what would killing Gary do? It wouldn’t change the fact Elodie didn’t want my broken ass and I couldn’t exactly keep Buster with me in a jail cell.

I’d ended up being the bigger man. I let him live. And got drunk to numb the pain. A pain that never ended. Or was it the loneliness killing me? Either way, I would never escape. My leg would never fully heal, couldn’t with the missing chunk. As for ever finding love again? Why bother even trying when Elodie, a woman I’d loved for seven years, left because I wasn’t man enough anymore?

God, I wanted a drink.

No drink. Think of your abused liver.

Fuck my liver.

You need a clear head to write.

Fuck the story.

You’ll be fucked if you don’t turn it in.

I had two months. If I could do even a measly thousand words a day, I’d have a manuscript. Now, I just needed an idea. Something to lighten the darkness that kept creeping into the few chapters I’d struggled to spit out already.

What could I do to my hero, Brett, to give the book the flair I was known for? As one reviewer put it: For such a serious subject matter, Mr. Milner manages to inject a lighthearted repartee that keeps it from being depressing. Funny how I could that in books, just not real life.

My head tilted back, my eyes closed, and I relaxed. Until I heard a splash.

What the fuck?

I jolted upright and stared at the bubbling water. I was alone, so what fell in the tub? No trees overhung the spot, so not a nut or branch. I stood to look, but the frothing from the jets made it impossible to see anything below the surface. A press of a button and the motor went quiet, the only sound the occasional pop as the wood that kept the tub warm burned. The liquid settled and the lights on the inside of the tub showed me who’d jumped in.

Or should I say, what?

As if sensing my regard, the cat-sized creature rose from the bottom, the top of its head emerging first, then its big eyes, followed by its snout. Definitely a reptile. I might have thought I hallucinated, only I remained sober. No drugs for the pain. No booze. Nothing to explain the lizard eyeing me with a hint of caution. Had my drinking finally caught up to me and addled my mind?

I blinked but the lizard remained. I rubbed my hand over my bristled jaw. “Well, fuck.”

What to do?

Nothing. I wasn’t about to wrestle a reptile that size while naked.

I exited the tub and grabbed my terrycloth robe. As I wrapped it around my shoulders and slid my feet into my boots, I glanced at my scaly guest floating in the hot water. “Enjoy. I’m going back to work.”

Because miracles of all miracles, I had an idea. My hero, Brett, was about to get himself a reptilian sidekick.

COLLAPSE
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Serving My Dragon

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Book Cover: Serving My Dragon
Find a StoreGooglePlayApple BooksBarnes and NobleKoboAmazon/Kindle
Part of the The Dragocracy Chronicles series:
  • Training My Human
  • Serving My Dragon
  • Taming My Human

My name is Matias and my life has become a soap opera since a bossy dragon adopted me.

I found a half-drowned lizard while hiking, but the hungry reptile isn’t the only thing I picked up in Charcani Chico. Kayleigh, a beautiful and curvy woman with amnesia, needs my help, too.

Somehow, they both end up living in my house and that’s where the craziness starts. First off, turns out the little lizard I came across is a dragon. How do I know? Because she told me! Yes, my little Pollita can talk, and she’s making grandiose plans for the future.

If I can keep her safe.

That won’t be easy because it turns out Kayleigh’s amnesia wasn’t caused by an accident. Someone tried to murder her because she was a witness to Pollita’s attempted kidnapping.

To keep both Pollita and Kayleigh safe, we end up hiding out in the jungle for a while. However, trouble ends up finding us in our piece of paradise.

Who knew that serving a tiny, demanding dragon would have me living out my very own telenovela? Bring on the danger, drama, and excitement, because I’m ready to face it all for love.

Find a Store

Available on: 2025-08-14
Cover Artists:
Alex with Addictive Covers (Website)
Genres:
dark humor, dragon romance, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Prologue

Ah, the sweet heat of magma roasting my shell. I squirmed inside my egg, knowing my hatching neared. I’d waited long enough. I couldn’t measure time while nestled in my cocoon, but having dreamed for so long, I would wager many years had passed since my maternal progenitor dropped me in a volcano.

It was the fate of all unhatched to be at the mercy of the erratic cycle of volcanoes. Some erupted with regularity, others without warning, some never. At least mine finally proved fruitful. Soon I would burst into the world and claim my territory.

My shell began to thin and cracks appeared. In my excitement I flailed, pushing at the weak spots, bursting free from my egg. I emerged in a river of lava. So warm and cozy. I could have floated in it forever, but my tummy rumbled, demanding I feed.

READ MORE

Despite just hatching and having rather weak limbs, I swam to the edge of the magma river flowing downward and clambered out. A shake of my body dispelled the molten rock before it could harden. My inherited memories let me know this would have been unpleasant.

The air smelled of sulfur and smoke and I inhaled deeply. My first breaths. How marvelous. While the area around the volcano had a distinct lack of anything edible—only charred stumps, for the most part—in the distance, I spotted greenery. Trees! Where there was foliage there would be life. The crunchy, yummy, belly-filling kind.

I waddled as fast as my short legs would go—the only choice being walking, as my kind didn’t hatch with wings—and tired quickly as my newly-hatched muscles protested. It would take time and food to build my strength. The latter being the simplest thing to accomplish quickly.

The jungle canopy filtered some of the smoke and ash from the air. Pity, as I quite enjoyed the aroma. I trudged through the foliage, listening for movement, sniffing and looking for a sign of something edible nearby.

None of the animal traces were recent, leaving me to grab what fruit I could find lying on the ground and flourishing in bushes. Nutritious, but lacking the muscle-building benefit of meat.

I hunted, moving further into the jungle, and my senses became more attuned as I digested my first meal. When my hearing sharpened, I realized something was following me.

Who would dare hunt a dragon?

Probably something looking to destroy me before I became too strong. It was ever a weakness of our kind to be hatched so small and ineffectual.

A glance at a tree showed a branch suitable for watching. I clambered upwards, my claws short but still enough to give me purchase. Perched upon a limb, I waited.

Crack. Murmur. Not an animal tracking me, but humans; the question being, were they the kind that worshipped dragons or those that sought to murder us?

A cluster of people paused under my tree. Two females and five males wearing strange garments. What country had I landed in that women wore trousers? My memories had females usually dressed in gowns of some sort.

The women, their heads encased in strange hats and veils, chattered. The males huddled in a group to converse. The language they used resembled nothing from my inherited collective. That would make giving them orders difficult. Hard to make a servant obey if they didn’t understand.

Then again, these most likely weren’t the serving type. I noticed one of the males had a metallic cage strapped to his back while the others held strange devices in their hands.

A thickset male pulled out a finger-sized white stick and put a flame to the end. This caused the smaller woman to go into a harangue. The male sucked on the white tube and blew smoke in her face. The petite one grew even more irate. She gesticulated and became quite strident. Surprisingly, the men didn’t slap her or make her stop, and of more interest, the one smoking extinguished his white stick. Fascinating. Had I hatched near a matriarchal society? Not very common, but encouraging, given my sex.

The curvier female took a turn speaking and pointing in the direction from which they’d arrived. That led to much head shaking. A male grabbed his groin and thrust his hips, which in turn resulted in the woman huffing and turning her back on him.

The comedy of it had me snickering.

And they heard.

The petite female glanced upward and spotted me despite the veil she wore over her face and eyes. She pointed and yelled in that unfamiliar language leading everyone to stare at me, but did they gape in admiration? Nope. I quickly discovered the strange objects the males held could fire missiles! Not very well, as it turned out, since the small, tufted arrows missed me. Still, I did not wait to see if they would get better. I leapt to another limb and raced across it, jumping again at its tip to grab at the next branch on another tree.

The humans followed.

Perhaps if I’d not been newly hatched, or had properly fed, I’d have had the stamina to outpace them. Alas, I tired too quickly. I encountered even more ill luck as the line of trees ended. As did the ground. I scampered down the trunk and raced to the edge of the cliff and peered down.

So far down.

A river ran below, dotted with rocks. The sheer face of the bluff showed few handholds, the rock not permeable enough for me to grip with my small claws.

The noise of my enemy crashing through brush alerted me to their imminent arrival. A glance showed them emerging from the jungle, spread out in a line.

Two of them held out the tiny arrow launchers while another unstrapped the cage. The tallest of the males crouched and walked towards me, crooning, as if I’d suddenly meekly allow myself to be captured.

The curvy female inserted herself in front of him, her hand waving, her tone angry.

He yelled back and took a menacing step towards her.

Perhaps the women didn’t have power over the males after all.

When the man would have stalked past her to reach me, the female grabbed hold of his arm. The male, his expression twisted in anger, grabbed hold of her and shoved. Shoved hard enough the woman stumbled and kept reeling right over the edge of the cliff.

This predictably led to the other female wailing as she tore at her veil, screaming as she hit her knees.

In my distraction, I’d not been paying the other males any mind.

An arrow launched and as I jerked to avoid it, my foot slipped and I lost my balance. For a second I teetered, then I fell. Plummeted fast. If I had my wings, I would have swooped to safety.

But I was but newly hatched. Not even a day old. Unfed. Weak. Undeniably unlucky.

I hit the water hard and knew no more.

Chapter 1

It had been a good day’s hike, and I dropped my knapsack on the ground as I surveyed the shore of the river snaking through Charcani Chico. The view never failed to calm. Just what I’d needed after the insane hours I’d been putting in at work.

When I’d gone to study dentistry at Cayetano Heredia Peruvian University in the city of Lima—a sixteen-hour drive that meant not visiting home often during those years, breaking Mama’s heart—I’d been excited to open my practice in Villa de Cayma where I’d been born and raised. I’d understood I’d probably be busy, I just never realized how insane it would get, especially since I did my best to keep costs reasonable, and in some cases, didn’t charge at all. For the families who couldn’t afford it, I usually provided care in exchange for a service. Like Luis, in pain because of a rotten root. He handled my garden. Or Maria, who’d needed several cavities filled. She repaid me by keeping my home clean—mine not Mama’s who’d been greatly offended when I made the offer.

But being so busy and trying to find ways to pay the bills when many of my clients provided food, goods, or service instead did take a toll. It was Mama who took one look at me and said, “You need a vacation.”

“I can’t,” I’d replied, already thinking of the long hours I’d have to put in the next week.

“You will, because if you don’t, you’ll be useless like your papa.”

It should be known my father was dead. Died of a heart attack at forty-nine because, as Mama lamented, “He wouldn’t listen and worked himself into an early grave.” Actually, his bad heart had been the true cause, but Mama did have a point. Burnout did happen, so I cleared my calendar for a week. A week where I’d have no one to answer to but myself. Seven days of hiking and reconnecting with nature, something I’d not done in years. I’d almost cancelled when Misti erupted. However, the volcano quickly settled and the winds kept the ash clouds away.

The emergency alert for the area didn’t last long. The government wasn’t eager to lose the tourism dollars they raked in from the Andes, which drew even more visitors with the eruption.

While environmental scientists claimed the area and waters safe, I’d been warned by Papa’s sister, Tía Carmelita, not to eat any fish as they could be contaminated with evil spirits. She claimed the volcano god Solimana was showing his displeasure at all the sinning happening in the world. The older members of my family tended to believe in the old legends. Me, not so much.

I chose to hike along the Rio Chili, the route popular with those looking for outdoor adventure. It ran through Charcani Chico, a canyon with breathtaking views that did much to reenergize my tired spirit as I spent days trekking its length.

Late afternoon, two days before I had to return to reality, I set up camp, knowing that this time of year dusk would arrive shortly, and I wanted to bathe before then so I could enjoy the sunset. I cleared an area of debris, using the rocks to form a ring to build a fire. It took me a bit longer to scrounge out some branches for kindling, not that I worried about getting cold. It was more about keeping the wildlife at bay. With that set up, I laid out my oversized sleeping bag—which I’d likely have to shake before I crawled in, in case any insects decided it looked comfy.

I’d heard my lack of tent and other amenities was called “wild camping.” I preferred it to the commercialized excursions offered to tourists that involved fancy tents with bendable poles that exploded into mini houses. Portable stoves. Inflatable mattresses. They even toted around composting toilets!

Personally, I preferred to interact with nature on a more basic level, hence I slept on the ground under the stars and did my business in the bushes or dug a hole.

I stripped out of my damp, sweat-drenched shirt and shorts but kept on my tight-fitting briefs and boots. Only an idiot—or someone who enjoyed leeches between their toes—went barefoot in Peruvian waters.

As I neared the shoreline with my shirt, which I’d decided to rinse and hang to dry overnight, my attention was caught by a lump splayed over the pebbles. A lizard-like creature had washed ashore, limp and unmoving. Most likely dead. I could have left it alone, but who knew what kind of carrion feeder it would draw. Skunk spray had nothing on vulture vomit.

Rather than touch it barehanded, I returned to my pack for some gloves. Nothing worse than digging your fingers into rotting flesh. I might have a stomach of steel, but some things made even a grown man’s gorge rise.

I returned to the small lizard, a type I’d never seen before, its skin a grayish hue. As I went to push the body into the water so it could continue downstream, it twitched. I withdrew my hand. Not dead after all but definitely injured.

What to do? Tío Santiago would claim I should leave it to the circle of life and allow it to die either of its injuries or because something would come along and eat it. However, to Mama’s annoyance, I’d been the kid who brought home all kinds of injured creatures growing up. A bird with a broken wing that I splinted and set free only to see it eaten by a condor. The mangy dog Bruno who’d been my companion for four years. The toad who’d lasted a whole summer before he mysteriously disappeared, coincidentally before Tía Consuela’s frog leg bake.

It had been a long time, though, since I’d taken in a stray. My life didn’t have room or time for a pet. A wild lizard wasn’t a domesticated animal, though, meaning it wouldn’t be a long-term commitment for me. Chances were, soon as it felt better it would scurry off. And if it didn’t, then on my way back I could drop it off at a wildlife sanctuary for them to handle.

I scooped up the reptile carefully, its body small and frail, but warm. I cradled it to my chest and brought it to my sleeping bag where I sat with it in my lap. I took a moment to carefully examine its limbs for any breakage or wounds. It seemed intact, and despite my lack of knowledge about lizard genitalia, most likely female.

Given her location by the shore, I concluded she must have fallen in the water and almost drowned. While she did seem to be breathing, I held her chest to my ear to see if I heard any gurgling in her lungs. Seemed okay, but just in case, I draped her over my shoulder, head hanging down so that gravity could pull out any moisture that might be trapped in her lungs. Right thing to do? No idea, but at least it felt logical.

I rubbed the lizard’s back much like you would a baby to get them to burp. In my case, it puked. Right down my bare spine. I grimaced. Good thing I hadn’t bathed or dressed yet. I strode with my little rescue back to the water and sank down to my haunches to submerge my lower half. I kept a hand on my rescue while the other scooped water and splashed the mess on my flesh. A few drops landed on the lizard, and she stirred, making a grunting noise.

Not wanting to be shredded by a waking and panicked wild reptile, I quickly waded to shore and gently placed her on the ground. I remained crouched and watched as she twitched and opened her eyes.

Two big, jewel-like orbs stared at me. Hunh. I’d never realized lizard eyes could be so pretty.

Since she kept looking at me, I smiled and softly said in Spanish, my native tongue, “Hello, pollita.” A word that meant little chickie.

She blinked.

“I hope you’re feeling better. You weren’t looking so good when I found you.”

The lizard sat up, obviously weak given how she wavered, the size of her barely more than my palm. She chattered in my direction, a surprise since I’d assumed lizards only ever hissed or flicked their tongues.

“I see you have much to say.” The corners of my eyes crinkled as I smiled. “Are you hungry?” I left her to dig into my pack, pulling forth a ripe lucuma. When I turned, I found the lizard only a pace behind me.

“Hold on while I cut it open.” I used my pocketknife to slice it in half before I crouched and held out the fruit. “Here.” I had no idea whether she’d even realized it could be eaten. I had little experience with lizards. Mama couldn’t abide reptiles or mice and had been known to chase them from the house with a broom while cursing them.

The dainty lizard grabbed the fruit and eyed it, then me.

I bit into the soft flesh. “Mmm. Good.”

Apparently, my action satisfied, for she stuck her face into it and took a bite. A bite that turned into a frenzy that left me open-mouthed as she finished it in seconds and held out her paws for the other half.

I handed it over, wondering how she could possibly eat any more given her size. Apparently, she must have been hungry, for the other half disappeared just as quickly. The lizard then stared at me and made a noise. A fanciful person would have imagined she asked for more.

“Let me see what else I have.” I dug into my bag and pulled out a bag of coconut chips. I sprinkled a bit on the ground and Pollita took one and sniffed it. Once more, I showed her it was edible by tossing a few in my mouth and crunching. That seemed to satisfy her, and the pile I’d given disappeared. Wouldn’t you know, she held out her paws, flexing the clawed fingers demandingly.

“Hungry girl,” I said with a laugh but I shook my head. “I think you’ve eaten enough for now. You don’t want to make yourself sick.” I tucked the snack away in my sack. “Let me get changed out of my wet bottoms and we’ll watch the sunset.”

The lizard crossed her arms and I’d swear she sulked. It made me curious as to what type of reptile she was. Tío Juan, my mother’s brother, who loved the outdoors, would have probably known.

I changed into dry shorts and then took my bottoms and shirt to the river to rinse them before hanging them on a bush to hopefully dry overnight. The lizard remained in my mini campsite, watching me. I’ll admit to being surprised she hadn’t run off. Could she be someone’s pet? It would explain why she had no fear of a human.

Given I didn’t want to scare her, I forwent lighting the fire and instead sat on my sleeping bag—after giving it a vigorous shake—in time for the sky’s change of color. The beauty of the sunset never failed to awe me. And this time I had someone watching it with me. To my surprise, the lizard crawled onto my legs and chose my lap to settle in. My hand lightly rested on her back, gently rubbing, noting a pair of strange lumps along her spine. She especially liked it when I rubbed the top of her head. The little pollita craned her head, uttering a sound that reminded me a of a purring cat.

When I slid into my sleeping bag, she crawled in with me, a warm bundle draped over my neck.

I woke at dawn, not because of the rising sun, but because of a lizard tapping my cheeks, chittering and shaking the empty bag of coconut chips.

Apparently, my little pollita was hungry again.

And she didn’t share.

COLLAPSE
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Part of the Fairytale Bureau series:
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In a world where fairytales keep coming to life, there’s a bureau dedicated to helping the victims caught up in the Grimm Effect. But sometimes even those investigators fall prey to a happily ever after… 

Enjoy this collection of three books featuring previously released stories: 
  • Hood’s Caper ~ Blanche Hood managed to evade the Red-Cap curse as a teen when she didn’t fall for the huntsman or get eaten by the wolf. But looks like the curse is revving up for another try, and this time it’s out for blood. Her blood. Can she track down the serial killer wolf before it’s too late for love?
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  • Belle’s Quest ~ Belle is determined to be the one who ends the Grimm Effect but in a hairy twist, the evil magic fights back and turns her into the beast. Should she admit defeat and take up residence in a dreary castle where she can roar at trespassers, or see if she can end the curse by giving true love a try?
Dive into these lighthearted romances with faiytale twists that will keep you reading past your bedtime.
Published: 2025-02-20
Genres:
anthology/boxset/collection, curse romance, dark humor, magic and sorcery, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, royalty romance, Shapeshifter Romance, Supernatural Mystery, twisted fairytale, werewolf romance
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english
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Part of the The Grae Sisters series:
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An urban fantasy in three parts  featuring very unique triplets.
The Grae Sisters is a three book collection of the following previously release titles.
• Warden and the Assassin ~ I’m the sister you don’t want to meet in a dark alley. Probably why a warden named Bane hires me to protect him from an upcoming arcane event. The odds are stacked against me, but I’m determined to win this fight and Bane’s love.
• Professor and the Seer ~ I’ve been cursed with seeing the future including one where the professor I’ve fallen in love with dies at my feet. There has to be a way to change what’s to come, but what if my choices bring about the apocalypse?
• Gentleman and the Witch ~ The ex-god who demands my aid is no gentleman, but then again, this witch is no lady. Together we will hunt beyond the Earthly dimension in search of our common enemy.  An enemy who miscalculated. Never threaten this witch because I will do anything, even end the world, to avenge those I love.
A blend of urban fantasy and romance that will keep you reading well past your bedtime.
Published: 2024-11-21
Genres:
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Part of the Earth's Magic series:
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A dryad on a mission, a witch with a secret, and two hounds ready to howl for love, So much to love in this paranormal romance bundle.

The Earth’s Magic Collection Two contains previously released titles:

• Earth’s Paladin ~ The world might not be ready for Mother Earth’s slightly murderous champion. Too bad, because she’s about to fertilize gardens the old-fashioned way; with the blood of her enemies. Will love temper her need for vengeance?
• Earth’s Secret ~ This Cryptid Authority agent—and witch—has been tasked with investigating a string of arsons. To her surprise, she uncovers a link to her past and now must scramble to survive with the help of her famous—and handsome—partner.
• Earth’s Triangle  ~ These hounds have orders from their goddess to protect a human. Not the most exciting job until they meet her face to face. Adeline’s charm gets their hearts and back paws thumping, but there is a problem: Why are zombies attracted to her?

Lighthearted, paranormal fun in a world where anything can happen, and love always prevails.
Published: 2024-10-31
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Humanity needs a hero and fate chose me. The world is so fucked.

Some people’s midlife crisis involves chopping off their hair or buying a convertible. Not me. I get to see demons, and even more traumatizing, I’m supposed to get rid of them.

A secret society of reapers and witches who’ve been keeping our planet demon free for generations has taken me under their wing. It’s nice to feel like I’m a part of something important, but will they have the time - and patience - to teach me how to wield my power before the biggest and baddest demon escapes his prison?

Join me for a wild and dangerous ride as I go from ordinary store clerk to supposed savior of the world. I’m going to learn to fight. How to wield magic. Fall in love.  And uncover secrets that almost destroy what little sanity I have left.

I never asked to be a heroine, but fate doesn’t care. When it comes time for the big boss battle it’s going to be up to me to vanquish the greatest evil in existence. I hate to say it, but Earth might be fucked.

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I’ve licked him. He’s mine.

Running into a strange white wolf isn’t an everyday occurrence in Derek’s life. Neither is finding a naked—and beautiful—woman alone in the park. Had the wolf been an omen of what was yet to come? Because since meeting Athena, Derek’s life’s been upended.

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A howling whopper of one.

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Published: 2024-10-17
Cover Artists:
Atra Luna's Book Cover and Logo Art
Genres:
dark humor, killer heroine, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, Shapeshifter Romance, werewolf romance
Tags:
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Excerpt:

Chapter 1

The full moon would be rising after dinner, which meant no more screwing around. Athena needed out of her prison before anyone confirmed her secret. She’d done well holding tight, not giving into the anger when they spent hours hosing her down with frigid water. She’d not barked once when they forced her to spend time with cats or someone delivered something to her cell. The sirens they played had her tempted to howl, but she bit her tongue.

Pretending to be a normal human being took its toll, but she’d managed thus far. However, Athena couldn’t do anything about the blood and tissue samples the various technicians took. At least she could be comforted with the fact a few weird chromosomes didn’t mean shit without proof of what that special twist in her DNA meant.

But she wouldn’t be able to hide her secret tonight.

READ MORE

A week of flirting with her afternoon guard would hopefully pay off. She needed to escape before they trotted her outside and exposed her to moonlight—the one thing she couldn’t resist.

Simon, the guy on shift, arrived with her meal tray, and Athena offered him a simpering smile as he brought it into her cell. He no longer gave her the daily warning to stand in the far corner. Her ploy to fool him into thinking her harmless appeared to be working.

As Simon set down her dinner, she murmured, “Thanks. You take such good care of me.” Athena batted her lashes so hard they almost took flight.

“Just doing my job.” Simon hitched his pants by the loops and puffed his barrel chest. A thick fellow, but she’d tussled with bigger.

“Guess after tonight we won’t see each other anymore once they realize I’m not what they think I am.” Her lips turned down in feigned sadness.

“You could call me when you’re released,” he offered. “We could go to dinner and stuff.”

“If only that were possible. Given what I know about this facility, I fear what they’ll do to me.” She ducked her head as she played the melodramatic damsel.

“I’m sure Dr. Rogers won’t do anything drastic. Mistakes happen.”

Of course, Simon would defend the doctor who’d been the one to trap her and organize the tests. Everyone in this installation worshipped Dr. Rogers, the man who’d caught the first Sasquatch. The guy who’d proved the existence of Ogopogo while also disproving Nessie using some kind of deep sonar tech. And now Dr. Rogers planned to out lycanthropes.

She still had no idea how he’d sniffed out her existence. Athena always took great care to never be seen when she ran on four feet.

“I hope you’re right and this is all a big misunderstanding, but what if this is my last moment on Earth?” She clutched her chest. “What if my last kiss was that slobbery one by that drunk in a bar? If only I had a nicer memory to take with me.”

Simon blinked, and it took his pea-sized brain a second to figure out what she hinted at.

“Uh, er…” He glanced at the camera in the cell with its red blinking light.

Someone always watched and listened. It took everything in her to be as boring as possible. Lying on her cot counting the dots in the ceiling tile. Staring off blankly into space. When she couldn’t stand to be sedentary, she’d do push-ups or jumping jacks but not so many as to seem suspicious.

They must be wondering by now if they’d assumed wrong since she’d not once peed in a corner nor wagged her butt in excitement when her dinner came with dessert.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even asked. I’m just so scared! It’s so unfair. I didn’t do anything,” she exclaimed and grabbed the pudding—chocolate, her favorite—and threw it. Her aim proved good, as it hit the camera and gooey goodness smothered the lens, ruining their eyes and hopefully muffling their ears. She wouldn’t have long.

“Oh shit,” Simon muttered, eyeing the mess.

She grabbed him by the shirt. “Quick, kiss me before they come.”

“Uh…”

What a meathead. Would she have to do everything?

A mash of her mouth to Simon’s distracted as she divested him of the notepad in his back pocket, where she knew he kept the door codes written because Simon couldn’t remember the many-numbered sequences. She’d been carefully scouting which of the guards she could use in her escape, and Simple Simon won hands-down.

As Simon began to moan, she suddenly shoved him in the direction of the cot. The backs of his legs hit it, and he fell hard. Bemused, he didn’t immediately clue in that she’d exited to the hall, but he started yelling when she slammed the cell door shut.

Step one, get out of her room. Done.

She ran up the hall, bare feet slapping the cold tile. The next door had a keypad. She flipped open the notebook and could have cursed at the sloppy writing. Simon had several entries; Main, Pretty Girl, Ugly Dude. Hall 1, Hall 2, Stairs, Yard.

Which one to use? When Hall 1 didn’t work, she cursed and quickly punched Hall 2. As the door clicked and she yanked it open, an alarm went off.

Things were about to get dicey. Usually her favorite kind.

The next hall held a woman in a lab coat carrying a tablet. Dr. Lanier, the psychologist who’d been trying to trick Athena into admitting her furry side.

As if. Athena had been taught from a young age to never ever say a thing. Daddy might be gone now, but his lessons remained.

“What are you doing out of your cell?” Dr. Lanier squeaked.

“Blowing this joint. I’d say nice knowing you, but that would be a lie,” Athena grumbled as she barreled for the woman. Lanier did nothing to stop her, unless screeching, “Help!” counted.

The shoulder Athena used to ram the doctor aside proved satisfying. Not as satisfying as, say, biting her, but Athena didn’t have time for revenge. Plotting retaliation would come later.

If she escaped.

The next keypad unlocked the door the moment she punched in the code for the stairs. It opened onto a staircase and elevator. Since the numbers showed it coming down, she fled up the steps and ran into a pair of soldiers descending. Her momentum let her drive into their legs and send them tumbling. She continued her bolt upwards, only to stop in surprise at the first-floor landing.

Dr. Rogers stood there waiting for the elevator. A pair of armed guards flanked the tall man with his wire-rimmed glasses, bowtie, and customary white coat. The guards aimed their revolvers at Athena.

Dr. Rogers yelled, “Don’t shoot to kill. We need her alive.”

A fellow with an impressive mustache said, “So aim for a leg or an arm?”

Their hesitation gave Athena the chance she needed. She roundhouse-kicked the gun out of one hand and followed with an uppercut to the second guy. As they reeled in surprise, a left hook plus a right cross laid another two other guards flat out. Thank you, Daddy, for the lessons and increased strength. Athena might not look it, but she could pack a punch.

The doctor didn’t look impressed she’d taken out his security. “There is no escape. Even if you make it out of the facility, I will find you.”

“You’re assuming I won’t find you first,” she chirped. “I’ll be seeing you…” She waved as she slammed through the door that led to the lobby. A lobby full of armed guards who eyed her in shock.

As guns left holsters, the doctor saved her again. “Don’t you dare use those weapons. Someone fetch the tranquilizer guns.”

Since the lobby area had too many even for her to slam through, Athena ran the other way, heading for the door that led to the yard. Dr. Rogers had been having her escorted to it nightly as the moon got fatter and fatter.

‘Yard’ proved to be a bit of a misnomer. It was a concrete space surrounded by barbed-wire fencing. Beyond it, a line of trees thick enough to prevent casual passersby from spying. Wouldn’t the folks in Ottawa be surprised to know the Experimental Farm wasn’t just about testing crops? Their basement level hosted a lab for other things.

The fencing with its sharp tines would hurt, but Athena preferred a bit of pain to being incarcerated and outed. However, to give herself the best chance, the shirt came off, and as she ran, she tore the thin fabric of the scrub top to wrap around her hands. The barbed metal still bit her flesh, but she gritted her teeth and climbed, even as she could hear the commotion at her back.

Despite expecting to be shot—probably in the ass with her luck—she kept ascending.

“Shoot the darts!” Dr. Rogers screamed. “Quick. She’s about to escape.”

Indeed, she was. Freedom beckoned, but she’d be cutting it close. Blame Simon for arriving later than usual. Twilight would shortly descend, and that meant the pull of the moon was strong as it began to rise in the coming night sky.

Athena hit the ground on the other side of the fence with a grunt and a bend of the knees. A good thing she’d ducked as a dart whizzed over her head, the soldier having gotten lucky and shot it through the diamond-shaped holes in the fence.

Her bare feet pounded the ground as she took off running, immediately heading for the woods where she could use the shadows and branches to make it harder for them to aim.

As she sprinted, her skin began tingling in warning. She gritted her teeth against it. Not yet. She needed to be out of sight, not only of human eyes but electronic ones.

As she burst from the tree line, moonlight hit, and she couldn’t fight it anymore. No lycanthrope could. The change came quickly, not a magical transition from human to wolf, but also not the violent tearing that Netflix portrayed in Hemlock Grove. More like seconds of joint popping, skin shivering, and senses muffled before she hit the ground on four paws.

Athena ran. Ran faster than the shouting soldiers chasing her.

The problem then became, where to go?

Home was out of the question, as was hitting up her friends or family. She had no money for a motel. So what did that leave?

Hours later, she still had no clue, until she saw the jogger being accosted and joined the fight.

Chapter 2

Derek browsed his local Reddit for news as he waited for the elevator in his apartment building. Mostly the same old thing.

Why are people so rude these days?

OMG rent is outrageous.

And then a new one…

White wolf sighted along Rideau Canal. And within the last hour, too.

He snorted. More likely a large dog or a coyote. Ontario had wolves, but they tended to stay far from big cities like Ottawa.

As the bell dinged and the elevator door slid open, he tucked his phone into the armband he wore for jogging. He probably should have taken the stairs down, but the last time, someone had pissed in the stairwell, and he’d stepped in it. Those shoes got tossed. It was one thing to piss on his own shoes because he was drunk and lacked aim, another to slosh around in someone else’s urine.

As Derek exited his building, he broke into a light jog. Fall, his favorite time of year. The evenings got dark early, the air crisp instead of redolent like in summer with the festering garbage. Even better, fewer people on the trails running along the river so he could jog without having to play dodge the pedestrian. Then again, not many people out and about this time of night. He’d worked a graveyard shift, getting off at four instead of one since someone failed to show, home by five because transit sucked. Despite the hour, he liked to indulge in a quick jog then be in bed by dawn so he could get up early afternoon to do it again. Not ideal, but rent needed to be paid.

He might not have minded his dull life so much if he at least had a girlfriend. His last one hadn’t worked out. Apparently, after six months of dating, him saying “We should move in together” was controlling. According to Stacy, “You’re stifling me. I need my space.” It should be noted they saw each other maybe once a week, given their alternating schedules. The whole let’s-live-together thing had been his way of spending more time with her since she’d also complained, “I never see you.”

At thirty-three, Derek could safely say he didn’t understand women, but that didn’t deter him. As his grams always said, “There’s a bitch out there somewhere, you little bastard. So chin up, make sure to wash your bits, and whatever you do, don’t tell them you like pineapple on pizza.” Because, according to his grandma, women would run screaming if they knew.

Grams tended to tell things straight with many cuss words. It made school concerts growing up entertaining because Grandma had no problem hollering, “Sit your ass down. Some of us want to see something other than your talentless jizz.” Also amusing? Her ranting as the refs tossed her out of his hockey games for taunting the opposing team. Then there was the grilling of Derek’s potential GF’s with questions like, “Can you cook, or is your idea of fine dining opening a can?” “You going to be true to my grandson, or am I gonna have to take you out to the woodshed for a chat?” His favorite… “So what prepping have you done for the apocalypse?” For some reason, that question sent a few running. Good. Derek didn’t need someone who would question his stockpile of water, Ramen noodles, and his bug-out bag for when shit hit the fan.

He'd yet to meet a woman who passed the Grams test, although a few, after meeting her, did think they could demand he cut her out of his life. Like fuck. Love me, love my family.

Heavy metal blasted in his air pods, the heavy beat the perfect accompaniment for the slap of his sneakers on pavement. The lights along the canal lit the path well until a section by a bench overlooking the water. Burnt out or vandalized? Probably the latter. Since the pandemic, crime had gotten worse.

Speaking of which, as he entered the dark section, three dudes wearing face masks, bulky hoodies, and oozing attitude stepped into his path.

Derek slowed his jog and drawled, “Morning, fellas.” Because with dawn about to burst, it was no longer night.

“Give us your stuff.” The skinniest one held out his hand.

Derek arched a brow. “I’d rather not. I hate setting up new phones.”

“Hand it over or else,” a second dude ordered, whipping out a switchblade.

It led to Derek eyeballing guy number three. “Let’s hear it. Don’t let your buddies get all the threatening glory.”

“Uh…” Guy number three apparently didn’t have a catch phrase of his own.

“Okay boys, let’s get this done.” It should be noted, Grams didn’t just teach him how to swear more mightily than a trucker—and she could get quite creative when it came to cussing at drivers that should get out of her fucking way. Grams had been in her fair share of bar fights because she did so love her whiskey, but if she mixed it with beer… watch out.

To those who might be appalled he’d taken pugilistic lessons from a little old lady, one, his grandma wasn’t little, and two, she’d never lost a fight—something Gramps took pride in. Gramps liked to sit back and watch, even wager, and had won more than a few tidy sums that way.

“Guess we’re doing this the hard way.” The guy with the knife took one step forward, and Derek almost rolled his eyes.

“Dude, did no one ever teach you how to use that thing?” Derek reached out, chopped the wrist, and grabbed the falling blade. “Let’s get rid of this before you cut yourself.” He pulled back his arm and tossed the flimsy weapon into the flowing water.

Three sets of surprised eyes ogled him before guy number one barked, “Get him!”

Three against one. Looked like he’d be getting a full cardio workout tonight.

Sweet!

Derek ducked under a clumsy blow and nailed the guy in the diaphragm, bending him over double. He then spun and thumped the dumb one, clocking him in the face and sending him reeling.

Number three would have turned and run, only a giant white dog stood in their way, growling softly, hackles raised. Must be the wolf they were talking about on Reddit.

Derek ignored the pup as he grabbed the men he’d smacked and tossed them into the canal. Let the water wash away their sins. Or drown them. Either way, a win for society.

Guy number three apparently had a knife of his own, and he pulled it to threaten the big floof.

“Out of my way, mutt.” Thief number three feinted with his blade, and the big dog looked unimpressed.

Derek, however, took exception. “Animal abuse is not cool, dude. Pick on someone human.”

The guy half turned to snarl, “Fuck off, or I’ll stab you too.”

“Have you learned nothing in the last two minutes?” With that, Derek kicked the back of buddy’s knee and, before the guy could recover, chopped the hand with the knife. Plop. The weapon went for a swim and drowned.

“What the fuck, man?” whined the dude.

“Listen up because I am about to give you some really good life advice. One, stop robbing hard-working folk. I don’t bust my ass forty-plus hours a week for some lazy pukes to steal my shit. Get a fucking job. Two, three against one? Not cool, dude. If you wanna have a go at someone, then it’s one-on-one. And ditch the knife. If you’re gonna fight, then do so like a man. Three, if you’re going to play tough guy, then can you at least take some lessons? This was pathetic. I didn’t even break a sweat.”

Derek would have sworn the dog appeared amused as it cocked its head. The wannabe thief was more confused than anything.

“Are you a cop?”

Derek actually shuddered. “Fuck no. Just a regular Joe who isn’t fucking about to let three punks bully him. Now, I’ll give you a choice. Jump or get tossed.”

“What?”

“Jesus you’re stupid. I blame our public education system.” Derek reached over and grabbed the guy, hauling him off his feet before heaving him over the railing to join his friends, who clung to the concrete side of the canal blubbering about it being cold. He leaned over the rail to give them one final piece of advice. “Don’t let me see you again.”

With that, he turned to the dog. “Hey, puppers. You lost? Hungry?” He didn’t see a collar.

The dog, a good size, with a fluffy coat of white fur, glanced to the sky, which began to lighten, before yipping and running off. Probably had to get home before its owner realized it had gone missing.

Derek pressed play on his phone and resumed his jog, only to pause about a hundred yards later when a naked woman jumped out from behind a tree.

Startled, he just about fell over. He also had to tuck his tongue into his mouth because holy hot babe.

Platinum hair that was almost silvery white, honey-colored skin, peach-sized boobs, narrow waist, and, damn, the carpet matched the drapes.

He gaped, at a rare loss for words.

Her lips moved, but it took him a second to flip off his music and mutter, “Say that again?”

“I need help. I’ve been robbed.”

So not a drug addict in the midst of an episode. Had to watch for those. Nothing worse than being accosted by a naked woman wielding a knife who screamed she collected dicks. And, yes, it had happened. Grams gave him shit when she found out he fled. “Why didn’t you take her down?” “Because I wasn’t about to have a sexual assault charge on my permanent record.” These days instigators somehow got away with being victims.

“You need me to call the cops and an ambulance?” Derek asked the woman. He went to dial 911, and she exclaimed, “Oh fuck no. I don’t need to answer a zillion questions or have some paramedics groping me. I’m fine. Just naked.”

A reminder that had him stripping his long-sleeve Henley. “Here take this. Sorry, it’s a bit sweaty from my jog.”

She didn’t seem to care as she slid it over her head, covering those luscious curves.

Mmm-hmm.

And what the fuck was wrong with him? This woman had been attacked. He shouldn’t be looking at her lustily at all. If Grams were here, she’d have cuffed him for sure.

“Thanks,” the beautiful woman murmured.

“Can I call someone for you?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Need a ride? I can call a cab and get them to drop you off at your place.”

Her teeth worried her lower lip before she admitted, “I don’t remember where I live.”

“You have amnesia?” He couldn’t help sounding incredulous.

“Seems so.” She shrugged.

“You really should go to a hospital if you got smacked in the head.”

“No doctors,” she scowled. “I’m more hungry than hurt.”

Not the reply he expected. “Do you need me to buy you some food?”

“Depends, know any places doing steak this time of day?” A fleeting smile curved her perfect lips.

“Not around here.”

“Pity. A good steak, barely singed, always fixes everything.”

A woman after his own heart. “Well, guess I should get going, that is unless you’ve changed your mind about me calling a cab.”

“Can’t I just go home with you? I just need a place to crash for a day or two.”

And here came the grift. Derek pursed his lips. “Listen, lady, I don’t do scams, and before you deny it, I know how this works. I take you to my place. Next thing I know, some gorilla shows up claiming to be your boyfriend. He beats the crap out of me, and you rob me blind.”

Her lips parted. “Does that actually happen?”

“Not to me, but I read about it on Reddit.”

“So that’s a no on a place to crash for a few days?”

“Guess you’ll have to amnesia-scam someone else.”

She sighed. “Bloody hell. As you might have guessed, I don’t have amnesia, but I can’t go home. It’s not safe.”

“Then why not say that in the first place?” Derek crossed his arms and gave her a stern look.

“Because I’m not looking for a hero. Just somewhere to hang while I figure shit out.”

“There are shelters you know.”

“The second place they’ll look,” she muttered.

“What’s the first?”

“My apartment.”

Her answers had him frowning. “Who’s looking for you?”

“Some bad folks. I need to lie low for a while until I know it’s safe, and before you ask, I don’t have money for a motel. I can’t contact my family or friends, not if I want to keep them safe. What a fucking clusterfuck.”

Look at her using Grams’ favorite word. While Derek got the impression the naked lady wasn’t telling the whole truth, he didn’t get a danger vibe from her. On the contrary, he found himself intrigued, and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t take care of himself. If a goon showed up, he’d show him a lesson about what happened to scum who preyed on good Samaritans.

“You know what, you can come stay for a few days, but I warn you—I’ve got only one bed, and it’s mine.” Because his chivalry only went so far. “You’re welcome to the couch, though.”

“Couch is fine. I’ve slept on worse.”

“Follow me, then.”

As they began to walk, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Athena.”

“As in the goddess?”

“Yeah. My mom loved the Greek gods. I’m Athena, and I have a brother called Ares, and a sister named Selene.”

“I’m Derek, after my gramps.” Idle chitchat, kind of incongruous given he walked with an almost naked hottie. He noticed her bare feet. “Do you need me to carry you?”

“Whatever for? My legs work.”

“Because you have no shoes and I don’t want you cutting your feet or something.”

She glanced at her toes. “Bah. I’ll be fine.”

Tough chick. Most broads would have been in hysterics after being robbed. Or… “Wait, were you actually robbed?”

“Not exactly. More like kidnapped and held prisoner.”

“By who?”

“Some very annoying people,” she grumbled. “When my chance came to escape, I didn’t have time to get dressed. Guess I’m lucky the first person I came across wasn’t a rapist.”

“Fuck those pervs. Grams says the only way to cure a rapist is to cut off his dick and choke him with it.”

A short laugh emerged from her. “I like your grandma already.”

“You’d be one of a few,” he admitted ruefully. “She scares off most folks.”

“Not you?” she questioned.

“Nah. She’s awesome. I hope to be half as tough as her one day.”

They reached his apartment building, an ugly thing built back in the seventies. Red brick with no character. He unlocked and held open the door for her to enter the vestibule. She angled her head and sniffed before saying, “Is there a building in this city that doesn’t have pee in the stairwells?”

She could smell it in the lobby? Might be time to ask the superintendent to bleach the stairs again. “Yeah, it’s getting to be bad in a lot of places. At least the rent isn’t horrendous.”

“Oh don’t apologize. Just pointing out a fact. My place had the same problem for a bit.”

“How did you solve it?”

“The pisser had an unfortunate tumble down the stairs and landed face first in it.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “By unfortunate, do you mean pushed?”

“Why, Derek, do I look like the type of girl who would sully her hands?” Athena drawled then winked.

He kept chuckling as they entered the elevator. “Kind of refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t put up with bullshit. Although I gotta wonder, how did you get involved in a bad scene?”

“By not being careful.” She leaned against the elevator wall as it rose. “And before you ask, I’d never met the folks who snagged me. All I know is apparently I met some kind of criteria.”

Given her looks, he could only come to one conclusion. Sex trafficked. Damn. Meaning no flirting by him, no leering, no nothing. Derek wasn’t about to make her trauma greater.

“Think they’ll come looking for you?”

“Probably.” She hesitated before adding, “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone before they figure out where I am.”

She kept saying “they.” As in, more than one person.

“Even if they do show up, I’m not afraid,” he quickly stated. “More just wondering if I need to be more on guard than usual.”

“You should be fine. It’s me they’re after.”

“Any way I can help you get them off your back?” he offered, because his grandma raised him to be a gentleman who helped people in need. And he hated scum. If vigilante justice wasn’t punished more severely than actual criminals, he’d have long ago started cleaning up the city.

“You’ve already done enough by giving me a place to crash for a few days. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

With that, they arrived at his place. She declared the couch perfect, and then, despite his earlier claim, Derek tried to insist she take the bed because he suddenly felt bad about putting her on that lumpy thing. She refused.

He might have fought longer, but he needed sleep before his shift tonight. He pulled out some leftovers in the fridge, a bucket of fried chicken and another of hot wings which they devoured in silence—unless her staring meant something. After their meal, he said goodnight and hoped he wouldn’t wake to an apartment stripped of all his valuables. He’d be pissed if she took his collector edition Xbox.

COLLAPSE
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Soul Reaper

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Book Cover: Soul Reaper
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Part of the Scythe & Souls series:
  • Reaping Demons
  • Reaper Witch
  • Soul Reaper
  • Scythe & Souls Collection (Books One to Three)

Being a hero would be a lot easier with an instruction manual.

A hero’s work is never done! I’m the guild’s only reaper witch and it’s my job to save humanity. After a few hiccups, I rose to the challenge and expelled the demon king from Earth, however, Moloch’s time in exile allowed another demon prince to rise in ranks. Not good since this self-proclaimed Emperor of Inferis is planning an invasion.

While I’ve managed to finally hone my magic and no longer suck at physical combat, there’s still much to do. Seducing two sexy reapers is at the top of that list, but I also need to pay a debt to a mysterious voice.

Finding a body for the portal entity to inhabit might have to take a backburner, though, given everything else going on. The new demonic Emperor isn’t just looking to rule Earth, it’s got an interest in me, I just can’t figure out why. Perhaps it’s time to put down the training scythe, hit the books, and learn the origin of my power.

The truth ends up being even worse than expected and I might have to do the unthinkable to save everyone I love. I only hope I don’t lose my soul in the process.

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Published: 2024-07-25
Cover Artists:
Joolz & Jarling
Genres:
dark humor, magic and sorcery, Menage/Polyamory, older heroine, Paranormal Romance, reaper romance, Urban Fantasy, Witch Romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Chapter 1

Don’t let them see me. I held my breath in case it could be heard. Invisibility only hid my physical presence. It couldn’t conceal any noise I made.

Magic swirled in a layer around me as I stepped quietly past those watching. They never even noticed. Suckers. I’d gotten better at evading them.

In the month since I’d banished Moloch to Inferis, I’d finally begun to figure out my powers. I had to. I couldn’t ignore the missive I’d received from the so-called emperor promising we’d meet. Wouldn’t it figure that as soon as I rid Earth of one menace another popped into its place?

With that threat hanging over my head, I’d been practicing my magic daily, first figuring out how to call on it without the need for emotional turmoil. Where once I required rage or another strong emotion to adrenalize my power, I now could use my ability simply by concentrating.

READ MORE

Unlike the other witches, I didn’t require special words or gestures. I only had to think to shape my magic. Think, for example, of being invisible and I could step past Cain and Vance who stood guard at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for me to appear.

Some might wonder why I tried to avoid the two men I wanted in my bed. Simple. They wanted me to choose, but I refused. I liked them both. Wanted them both. And I’d made it clear that nothing else would do. After all, polyamory had become a thing in recent years—and the books made it sound so yummy.

Being men built on pride—and victims of jealousy—they refused. They demanded I choose one or the other. I held firm, even as I teased them, which in turn tortured me. Stolen kisses and flirty winks didn’t ease the ache between my legs.

You know what did feel good? Besting them, sneaking past the most gifted hunters the reaper guild had to offer.

As I moved away, with them none the wiser, my step quickened only to halt abruptly as Nova suddenly stepped out of her office and in my way.

“Screwing with your bodyguards again?” she remarked, seeing through my illusion.

No matter how hard I tried, she could always spot me because of the magic I used. I let it dissipate and heard the barks of surprise at my back as my protectors noticed I’d managed to slip past.

“Just honing my skills,” I stated primly.

“How about putting them to practical use?” Nova inquired.

“What’s up?” The last month had been quiet. With Moloch gone, the demons crossing over from Inferis to Earth had slowed to a mere trickle. Everyone assumed the biggest threat was over, but I knew better.

I’d told Nova about the note, a note that disintegrated in my hand after I read it, leaving me with no evidence. She asked me if perhaps I’d dreamt it because I worried about Moloch’s return.

Nope, I knew he was dead. Just like I knew the biggest challenge was to come. And I wasn’t entirely sure it was this Emperor of Inferis. I’d yet to fulfill my promise to the entity that lived in the nothing space accessed by the portals that allowed us to travel between one place and another almost instantly. A voice no one else heard and yet talked to me every time I stepped into that between space. To save the world, I’d made a bargain with the entity. A body in exchange for its aid in banishing Moloch.

Sounded easy? Not really. I’d tried to give the disembodied voice a criminal. A human with an arrest sheet a mile long, someone no one would miss.

The voice rejected it soundly with a rebuke. Do you insult me, messovenata?

Guess I couldn’t blame it. If I had to be reincarnated, I’d want something better than a piece of shit.

What do you want exactly? I’d tried to get clarification.

Someone special.

Not exactly clear instructions.

I couldn’t condemn anyone I knew in the reapers’ guild or witchy sisterhood. Handing over someone important on Earth, like a president or royalty, also seemed kind of dangerous. Did I want to put this entity in a position of power? Not really. Who knew its intentions?

I’d offered it a demon I captured. Also rejected.

A vampire with a handsome mien and wealth who’d been preying on humans led to me being told, I want a form where I can walk in the sun.

Who knew spirits with no bodies could be so picky!

A month later, and I struggled to find someone that would appease the voice. It didn’t help it was growing impatient.

“We lost another person to the portal,” Nova stated softly as I followed her into her office.

“Shit.” Not much else to say. The Regina, the leader of the witches, knew of my bargain, and while not happy about it claimed she understood why I’d had to make it. At the time, trading one life to save billions seemed fair.

“I know you’re having issues finding what it wants,” she added.

“Wouldn’t you?” I retorted. “I’m essentially killing someone by handing them over.”

“But now people are dying because you’re hesitating.”

“Are they dead?” I countered. “I mean, maybe the voice is just stashing them somewhere to use as hostages.”

“Do you really believe that?”

My shoulders slumped. “No.”

“For the moment, we’ve put out word to not use the talismans.” The talismans were what we used to activate those shortcut doorways.

“Hold on, if you do that, then we’ll be stuck.” Our castle—and main headquarters—was situated in the Rockies, in a valley impossible to reach without a helicopter or extreme multi-day hiking.

“We cannot take the chance the entity will take another reaper.”

We’d lost three in the last week. No one I knew, but it would only be a matter of time before I did, seeing as how I’d started training with some of the reapers because, as Cain stated, You might not always be able to rely on magic.

A knock at the door led to Nova barking, “Come in.”

Asher entered, looking peeved. “We lost another.”

“I’m aware,” was Nova’s low reply. “I was just talking to Sadie about it.”

Asher whirled to fix me with his vivid blue eyes. He was a man in his late fifties. With his muscles and vitality, he could have passed for much younger despite his salt and pepper hair. “You need to give it what it wants.”

“I’ve been trying,” I hotly exclaimed. “It’s rejected every single person I’ve offered.”

“Have you asked it why?” Asher drawled.

“It doesn’t want anyone ordinary.”

“Meaning what?” he blurted.

“If I knew we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” was my sharp retort.

“I want it to stop taking my men.”

“So do I. If you have any volunteers who don’t mind giving up their bodies, then feel free to send them my way,” I snapped. While I might be responsible for making the bargain, it didn’t feel fair to get blamed for the entity’s pickiness. Had Asher forgotten that my deal saved the world?

“I am not giving it any more of my men. Fix this,” he barked before stalking out.

I glanced at Nova who shrugged. “The one we just lost was his nephew.”

“Oh. Fuck.” It explained his anger. I rubbed my forehead. “Guess I should go have a talk to the voice.” A voice who’d almost told me its name once, but since then had been playing coy.

“Be careful, Sadie. We can’t afford to lose you.”

Sounded caring, but I knew the truth. They didn’t want to lose the messovenata, the only person who could touch both the male and female side of magic. It meant I could cast spells like a witch, but like a reaper male, I could also see through the demons’ fog-like camouflage.

Unlike most of the others in the guild, I hadn’t come into my powers until late in life. Forty-two, to be exact. The saying about old dogs and new tricks? Not entirely true. This bitch was learning, but that didn’t make up for the decades of practice the others had.

I emerged from Nova’s office and just about ran into Cain’s chest. A wide chest, I should add, encased in a form-fitting navy-blue t-shirt tucked into snug jeans. Very yummy.

“Don’t you dare turn invisible,” he warned.

“Or what? It’s not like you can find me.” I might have smirked.

He offered me a predictable scowl. “Not funny. We’re supposed to be protecting you.”

“From what? The demons have been routed. Moloch is gone. The castle is overrun with reapers and witches, and I am no longer useless.” I held up my hand and a ball of crackling fire hovered over my palm. Cocky, but it proved a point.

“A bullet to the head will still kill you,” was his harsh rebuttal.

I snorted. “Yup, it will, and having you beside me when it happens will do exactly squat to stop it.” I began walking toward the main entrance.

“Now where are you going?” he huffed.

“To talk to a certain disembodied spirit.”

“You’re going back into the portal?”

“Yup.”

“Did Nova not tell you we lost someone this morning?”

“She did.” I walked out of the castle into bright sunshine and squinted.

“Doesn’t seem like a good idea to throw yourself in there,” he insisted, having followed me.

“Don’t have much choice. We can’t keep losing people.”

“We won’t lose them if we stop using the talismans.” Cain had a simple solution and for once it didn’t involve killing the problem.

“Without the talismans how would we do our job?” I whirled to ask. “We can’t have reapers in every single city and town. Part of the reason why the guild works well against demons is because we have the ability to move the reapers to where they’re needed quickly.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it’s time we found another way.”

“I’m all ears. Pray tell, what other way is there?” I crossed my arms and arched a brow.

“Now you sound like the princep.” Asher’s title as leader of the reapers.

“Because he’s right. We need the talismans to work to do our job and for that to happen, I have to give the voice what it wants.”

“What if it wants you?”

I blinked at him. “Wouldn’t it have specified that at the time of the bargain?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Well, it’s not getting me.” As if I’d sacrifice myself. I might be a hero now, with more courage than I knew what to do with, but that didn’t mean I had a death wish.

Still, Cain planted a seed, so the first thing I did once I entered that cold nothing place that allowed us to travel was to mentally query, Do you want my body?

Chapter 2

For most people, traversing a portal lasted less than a second.

I wasn’t most people. For me, it resembled more entering a vacuum of space. Nothing to see, just endless dark. Not a hint of light. Nor sound. Just extreme cold.

And the voice.

It didn’t so much speak aloud as make itself heard.

Hello, Sadie.

Don’t you “hello” me. You killed another reaper! Being confrontational might not have been my best choice, however, the pressure coming at me, not to mention the guilt, had me irate.

I killed no one.

Then where are the reapers? Three of them entered but haven’t been seen since.

Our talismans worked by either bringing us to the anchor it had been paired with—for example the dais in the woods near the castle—or to a location we visualized. Reapers had been using them for centuries to get around the world.

I took the travelers to where they wanted to be.

No, you didn’t, because they’re missing.

Not missing. Simply not where you expected.

Don’t play games with me. Where the fuck are they?

The one named Tom wished to see the home where he’d been born.

That didn’t sound too bad, but it didn’t explain why Tom hadn’t contacted the guild. Given the voice didn’t elaborate, I asked, Was there something wrong with Tom’s home?

The place he visualized last existed thirty-four years ago.

Wait, are you saying you sent him back in time?

It was what he wished for.

And what, he stayed there?

I know not what he did after his arrival.

A non-answer which led to me demanding, What about the other two?

Lou wondered if it was possible to visit Mars and Marcus kept thinking about a sunken city recently discovered and wondering how it appeared when freshly constructed.

It took me a second to reply. You sent someone to Mars?

Yes. It was his desire.

Humans can’t survive on Mars.

He knows that now.

Oh fuck. While I didn’t get a hint of maliciousness in the reply, I couldn’t help but rebuke. That wasn’t very nice of you. You know full well those weren’t the places they meant to visit, not to mention they would be deadly.

Then it shouldn’t have been their most prevalent thought. I simply gave them what they desired. Unlike you, who made a promise and hasn’t kept it.

Don’t you get snotty with me, I mentally huffed. I’ve brought you several suitable bodies. Bodies, not people, because I didn’t like to think of the fact I’d condemned them.

None of which proved suitable.

Maybe you should be more specific about what you need then because I don’t want to sacrifice anyone else for nothing.

They must have some magic.

So a witch? The very thought repugned. I knew them all personally as witches didn’t number many in the world given when their magic awoke they attracted demons. Most didn’t survive that encounter.

Not just any witch. It would have to be a powerful one.

What about a reaper?

Same.

If magic is a prerequisite, then why not use the demon I brought?

Bringing me the lowest of the minions from Inferis? That was insulting. I could practically feel the disdain.

What if I captured a demon wizard?

I would prefer a form more suited for blending in with the human populace as I’ve chosen your world as the one most likely to please me.

The thought of a powerful entity roaming Earth didn’t sit well with me, but I knew better than to say anything about my trepidation. Instead, I poked for different info.

Why won’t you tell me your name?

Because it isn’t important. I haven’t been that person in a long time.

How did you get trapped in here?

I trusted poorly.

Betrayed. That sucked, but I had to wonder if the person doing the betraying had their reasons. I’m going to try and find you a suitable body, but in the meantime, no more disappearing reapers!

I don’t understand your anger. I simply gave them what they wished for.

What they wished for wasn’t to be taken from their life in this time to another or to a place that would kill them on arrival.

Very well. I shall ignore their desires. Apparently, a disembodied voice could sound salty.

Any way of returning them?

They would have to enter a portal for me to do so.

Wait, you mean none of them have tried to come back?

If they had, I would have delivered them. That is the only thing I have to do in here.

It led to me asking one more question. If you’re the one directing folks who use the talismans, then how did the whole portal thing work before you were trapped?

Not very well. Only the most savvy and powerful could find their way.

How come you keep letting demons through doorways from Inferis to Earth?

Those are not magical openings such as your kind use, but rather rips between the dimensions.

What causes the rips?

The connection that exists between your world and theirs.

Can we sever that connection?

Not without much death.

It occurred to me it had yet to answer my initial question. Are you holding out for my body?

While yours would be ideal, it is understandable you wouldn’t want me to use it. Although, I should mention, your spirit wouldn’t be lost, merely enhanced by my own.

No thanks.

Then you need to find me someone suitable.

Working on it. It would help if I understood you better. It might give me some ideas on suitability. Like guy or gal? Any specific age?

When I lived, I wore a female form not much younger than you.

Were you human?

In appearance, yes, but I wasn’t from Earth.

Where are you from originally?

So many questions about things long past. Things no longer important.

If you say so. I should return to the castle now. But before I go, another reminder: no more sending reapers to the wrong place.

Then tell them to be clearer about their intentions, came the huffy reply before I found myself thrust back into the world.

I blinked at the twilight, a surprising thing to see given I’d entered early afternoon in full sunshine. A grim-looking Cain stood with his arms crossed, waiting.

“Have you been standing here this entire time?” I asked as I headed for the house.

“Yes, although, I didn’t expect you to be gone for hours,” he growled.

“Neither did I. It only felt like minutes to me.” I never knew the portal could play with time. I wondered if Nova was aware.

“Did you find the missing reapers?”

His question brought a grimace that twisted my lips. “I’m afraid I don’t have good news on that front. Apparently, the reapers entered and rather than focus on their destinations, started thinking of other locations. The portal brought them to those places instead.”

“So they’re alive.” He sounded so relieved, I hated to break the bad news.

“No, one of them is dead. The other two…” I paused before saying, “Back in time.”

He stared at me. “Time travel isn’t possible.”

“Apparently, it is.” I rubbed my forehead. “Where’s Asher? He and Nova need to hear about this.”

“Head to her office and I’ll have someone fetch them.”

I entered the castle but first diverted to the kitchen where the brownies scampered around, cleaning the dishes while chirping to each other. They could speak English, but they also had their own language.

Upon seeing me, Isadora, a petite brownie with her hair in braids, paused in her refilling of a saltshaker. “Messovenata, what can I fetch for you?” No matter how many times I told her to call me Sadie she insisted on using the honorific.

“Something to drink and a snack. I kind of missed dinner.” My stomach grumbled about it.

“A moment, please.” Isadora stuck two tiny fingers in her mouth and blew. The piercing noise cut through the din and as she chattered, a few other brownies leaped into action. In short order, I had a plate piled with leftover meat from dinner, cheese, and fresh-cut fruit. To drink, an insulated bottle filled with watermelon-infused water.

“Thank you.” I pulled a Tootsie Roll from my pocket and held it out. “Bought you a treat.” The castle didn’t keep junk food stocked as Nova and Asher believed in feeding the witches and reapers wholesome meals, meaning nothing prepackaged. But the brownies loved their sweets so I kept a stash to give them.

Isadora beamed. “The messovenata is generous.”

“More like you’re awesome and deserve it. Thanks, Isa.”

I left with my drink and plate of food, heading for Nova’s office. The door was flanked by a scowling Cain and a slightly amused Vance.

“I told you to wait in her office,” Cain grumbled.

I held up my plate. “I was hungry. Are they inside?”

In response, Cain flung open the door. Nova and Asher both eyed me the moment I entered. Asher looked hopeful. I hated to dash it.

“So I spoke to the voice in the portal,” I said as I took a seat and balanced my plate on my knees.

“And, what happened to Tom?” growled Asher.

“Tom might still be alive, but about thirty-some years older.”

My statement had them both blinking.

I took a bite of cheese and explained. “It would appear the reapers are giving out conflicting destinations when they’re travelling. Tom, for example, wanted to see his childhood home, and so the voice took him to it.” I paused. “In the past.”

“Impossible,” Asher barked, however, Nova looked more pensive.

“I assume the voice told you this,” she said.

“Yes. It also said that Marcus wanted some ancient city before it got submerged placing him centuries in the past. As for Lou, he was thinking of Mars.” I didn’t add the obvious outcome.

Nova winced as Asher exploded. “It fucking killed them!”

“Yes.” No sugar coating it. I did however add, “It claims it did as the reapers wanted.”

“They wanted to live,” Asher growled.

“Obviously. But at the same time, the portal works by depositing travelers to the destination they’re picturing. If they’re visualizing the wrong place—”

“Then the attendant of the void that we didn’t know about until you came along is simply obeying their wish,” Nova murmured, taking over my statement.

“It is, but at the same time, it knew that wasn’t where they meant to go. So I gave it shit and told it to knock it off.”

My claim led to Asher snorting. “And if it doesn’t? This thing obviously doesn’t give a shit it killed my men.”

“No, it doesn’t, but it does care about the fact I’ve yet to keep my bargain with it.”

“So, what? It’s punishing my reapers because you haven’t given it a body?”

“It didn’t come out and say so, but given its actions…” I shrugged. “Seems likely.”

“Has it given you any kind of direction as to what it wants in a physical form?” Nova queried.

“Yeah. It requested someone with magic. But not a demon.”

“It wants a witch,” she murmured.

“Or a reaper.”

“Like fuck,” Asher exclaimed. “I am not handing over any more of my men to this fucking voice.”

Nova didn’t have the same reaction. “I have to wonder why it doesn’t just take a suitable body when we pass through.”

I frowned. “That’s a good question. I don’t know why. I mean, we’re at her mercy in there.”

“Her?” Nova caught my word usage.

“I did manage to get the voice to tell me it used to be female, human in shape but not from Earth.”

“Really?” Nova’s brows rose with interest. “Anything else it admitted? You were gone a long while.”

“Nothing else of interest. While I might have been gone hours, the conversation itself only lasted a few minutes.”

“Don’t care.” Asher slashed a hand. “The portal is no longer safe. We need to find another way to move reapers around.”

“The portal should be safe to use, but you need to hammer into their heads the fact they have to think—and I mean really fixate—about where they actually want to go. No wondering about the high school they used to attend or reflecting on other planets or places that no longer exist,” I stated.

“Are you blaming my men for their demise?” Asher looked ready to throttle me, which said a lot given he usually had a calm demeanor.

“No. We both know the voice took liberties with their final destinations. But, knowing that, we can educate the reapers so that we hopefully avoid more incidents.”

“This is bullshit,” snarled Asher as he left the office.

Nova sighed as the door slammed shut. “He’d hoped for better news.”

“So did I.” Despite the tense conversation, I couldn’t help but nibble on my food. “The voice did say something interesting. It claims that before it lived inside the cold place that travelling via portals used to be fraught with danger. That only the most focused made it from point A to B.”

“That would match up with some of the older texts that cautioned their use.”

“I also asked it why it kept letting the demons into our world and it claimed that they were using rips between our dimensions. And that to get rid of those tears would decimate a whole bunch of people.”

Nova’s brow knit as she pondered. “I wonder what it meant by that.”

My shoulders rolled. “No idea. Getting clear answers from the voice isn’t easy.”

“Thank you for trying, though.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m the reason the voice is getting pissy. What am I supposed to do? I can’t just hand over a witch.” My lips turned down.

“We’ll find a solution.”

Nova sounded confident. If only it would rub off on me.

COLLAPSE
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Reaper Witch

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Book Cover: Reaper Witch
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Part of the Scythe & Souls series:
  • Reaping Demons
  • Reaper Witch
  • Soul Reaper
  • Scythe & Souls Collection (Books One to Three)

Learning magic isn’t easy.

Being told I’m some kind of rare reaper witch would be awesome except for the fact I can’t use my magic unless I’m threatened. When I’m scared, my instincts kick in, but it’s very clear I’m no hero. Heroes don’t run from danger.

Yet, I do. Blame my parents. They taught me to be afraid of everything, even my own shadow. In this case, though, I might be justified. A great evil is trying to enter our world, and my blood is the key that unlocks a monster’s prison.

Since I’d really prefer to not die, I’d better drag my courage out from deep—and I mean deep—within and learn to fight. The question being, will I learn how to wield my magic in time, or is the world doomed?

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Published: 2024-05-16
Cover Artists:
Joolz & Jarling
Genres:
dark humor, magic and sorcery, older heroine, paranormal women's fiction, pwf, Supernatural Mystery, Urban Fantasy
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Prologue

The mighty—yet currently trapped—demon king paced back and forth by the locked portal, its surface hazed and impenetrable. For centuries he’d been waiting. Waiting for the sacrifice that would set him free.

He needed the blood of a messovenata, someone with sangual blood, or more simply, someone holding both the male and female sides of magic. For centuries, he’d waited for one to be born so he could be freed, the required conditions difficult to replicate. But he’d tried as best he could from his prison. Blame his failure on his idiotic minions with their puny brains. Not only did they have difficulty retaining and following orders, but they tended to be bloodthirsty when they smelled magic. It led to them killing rather than cultivating those with the potential to birth a messovenata.

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But this time he could smell freedom within reach. The scars on his body numbered in the hundreds, each cut releasing some of the essence needed to communicate with those still loyal to him.

There were few left because of his enemies, the Dark Princes, the sons he should have strangled at birth. They’d dared to subvert his loyal legions and destroy his chance at escape, preferring to incur his wrath rather than set him free and once more be subjugated to his will. They’d pay with their lives for this betrayal. After all, easy enough to make new heirs—not that he ever planned on dying.

However, all his plans hinged on opening the fucking portal so he could leave his infernal prison. His minions needed to capture the messoventa, and they’d best do so before she learned to use her power.

Given they couldn’t be fully entrusted with such an important task, he cast a spell, the large slice across his chest a painful burn that filled his basin with blood. Blood as dark as the stone that surrounded him.

Over top of that precious fluid he chanted and opened a conduit that allowed a part of his essence to slip into the single tiny flaw in his prison. A thread of himself that managed to enter the mind and turn to his cause someone who would be useful.

A person close to the reaper witch. By the time they realized the betrayal, it would be too late.

Chapter 1

Let there be light.

I concentrated on the candle sitting on the floor in front of me. Long and white. The basic kind bought and kept in a cabinet to get dusty as it awaited a future power failure. The pristine wick mocked me.

“Light, goddamn it,” I cursed, my frustration bubbling over.

“Think of heat,” murmured Mizuki, the witch guiding me through my lesson in fire magic. While she currently acted as teacher, she was also my friend and had been since I’d been inducted into the Sisterhood of Witches. Not by choice, I should add, but because fate had decided my life needed a kick in the ass at my ripe age of forty-two. Forget having a boring mid-life crisis. Mine chose to introduce demons to my existence along with several near-death experiences, which, in turn, supposedly gave me powers.

Powers that wouldn’t obey me no matter how hard I tried.

Think of fire. I did as instructed and tried to picture a flame, the orange and yellow flickering that would prove I could wield the element of fire, because I sure as fuck didn’t have the magic of wind, earth, or water.

The candle remained unimpressed, and I tired of the exercise in futility. With a sigh, I leaned back from my lotus pose, bracing my hands behind me. “This isn’t working.”

Mizuki didn’t look daunted. “Don’t worry, Sadie. I’m sure we’ll figure it out. You have to be strong in at least one of the elements. All witches are.”

“Assuming I really am a witch,” I replied dryly. Yes, I’d twice done amazing things. Once when my hands glowed during a demon attack and I killed the monster trying to eat me. Then again when I’d been about to be sacrificed to some evil entity locked in a prison dimension. I’d wished to be freed, and while the ropes binding me hadn’t magically dissipated, the spell holding Vance and Cain—two hot reaper dudes who came to my rescue—had. They’d managed to take out the demon wizard who’d kidnapped me.

So, yes, I’d done magic, the problem being I remained clueless as to how. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. Both times my power decided to manifest I’d been in deathly peril, like literally staring it in the cloudy, rabid eye. Maybe Mizuki needed to hold a gun to my head to see if it would trigger anything.

“You’re a witch.” Mizuki sounded so certain, However, I, who’d never been special at anything, remained doubtful.

“Then why can’t I do anything?” I grumbled.

“It will come. We’ll keep working on it.”

I didn’t point out the fact we’d been at it for a month already, ensconced in our new hideout, which wasn’t quite as luxurious as the castle the Sisterhood of Witches and Brotherhood of Reapers used to inhabit. They’d lost it because of me. Demons invaded their secret spot, seeking me out, and so everyone had to relocate. Currently, we were holed up in an abandoned warehouse near the Toronto waterfront. Tents had been set up to provide sleeping quarters. Porta potties sat just outside for the guys. The witches used a bathroom with running water in the warehouse. A gross room, even after all the bleach we used to scrub it. But at least it had a few toilets and two sinks, with the third having been converted into a shower that we used on a schedule. Again, women only. The guys were using a nearby gym for their sanitation needs.

I hated the whole setup. I’d never been one to go camping, and though this didn’t constitute the great outdoors, the blow-up mattresses, steady noise, and fact that I constantly had people around me grated. While not a complete introvert, I did enjoy my privacy.

The rooftop we’d been practicing on proved to be my favorite place to go. A spot bathed in sunshine, the reapers had brought up lawn chairs and even an outdoor carpet to make it comfortable.

I leaned against the legs of a plastic chair and sighed again. “Maybe I should just tell Nova to remove my power so I can go back to living an ordinary life.”

Nova being the head witch. I couldn’t exactly leave with my magic intact because, despite it stubbornly refusing to manifest on demand, it tended to draw demons towards me like moths to a flame. Only instead of being burned, I’d be gutted by monsters.

The very suggestion widened Mizuki’s eyes. “No. You can’t give up.”

“I don’t want to, but let’s be honest. I’m not very good at this.” I waved a hand. “Maybe if I relinquish my supposed magic someone else will become your reaper witch.” Or, as Nova called me, messovenata. Someone with the dual magic usually separated by gender.

Certain human males could see demons and, in some cases, wield a bit of magic such as telekinesis, minor warding, even telepathy. Women with power could do all kinds of crazy and cool stuff with the elements: fire, wind, earth, water, and spirit. They could scry for demons and stop them before they caused trouble. Devika could heal. Mizuki rocked fire, while Cecily and Helen could toss electricity, which supposedly came from their ability to channel wind. Something about harnessing the electricity it generated much like a wind turbine. Nova, the biggest and baddest witch of them all, wielded several elements and could be all kinds of scary.

“Don’t give up. I believe in you.” Mizuki had such a positive attitude that at times I wanted to slap her. I also wanted to hug her. She’d been my staunch friend from the moment we met, what seemed like ages ago but was really just over a month.

A month since I’d had a dull Monday-to-Friday job in a small shop that sold kitchenware. It and my boss were gone now. He’d been possessed by a demon and torn apart—poor Enzo didn’t deserve that—then the shop burned down. My old life? Gone. As far as people knew, I’d died in the explosion that took out my apartment building.

“Think we’ll get to escape our prison anytime soon?” I referenced the fact that the witches had been placed on a sort of lockdown. Since our magic attracted demons, we couldn’t go anywhere alone. The witches could only leave with an escort of two or more reapers. At least they were lucky and had that option.

Me, the reaper-witch freak? I wasn’t allowed out at all. Too dangerous. According to the demon wizard who’d kidnapped me, they needed my blood to set their overlord, Moloch, free. Nothing like knowing your death would start the apocalypse.

“I know you’re going stir-crazy. Everyone just wants to keep you safe.” Mizuki sounded so understanding.

My lips pursed. “What’s the point of being safe if I die of boredom?”

“Maybe you should ask Cain or Vance to entertain you.”

The mention of them brought a scowl. “They are taking this whole bodyguard thing super serious.”

Cain and Vance were on twenty-four-hour, seven-day-a-week protection detail. They slept outside my tent. Followed me to the bathroom and waited outside when I used it. Even now, one of them stood just within the door that led to the rooftop. And only that far away because I’d told them I couldn’t concentrate with them staring at me while I failed at magic.

“Wish Barron would guard me,” Mizuki uttered with a sigh. She had a crush on the reaper and had been determined to seduce him ever since the attack on the castle. Alas, Barron had been leading most of the reaper squads into the city, looking for demon nests. Toronto had become a hotbed for monsters. Again, the theory being my presence was drawing them.

I’d never been so popular. I hated it.

Interruption to our discussion came in the shape of one oversized male with the squarest jaw and a gruff voice. “The Regina wants to see you,” Cain declared. The Regina being Nova, the boss witch, the one who kept insisting I had a destiny.

“Maybe she’s decided I’m not worth the trouble,” I murmured as I rose from my seat.

“Don’t be silly,” Mizuki scoffed. “She knows these things take time.”

“And time isn’t something we have,” I reminded.

Things were getting bad in the world. Demons had been extremely active in other areas, but Toronto seemed to be a hotspot for them. Media reports talked of unexplained massacres where people were being literally torn apart and chewed on. Speculation ranged from a cannibalistic cult to some kind of new drug making people go crazy.

Some folks tried to expose the demons but were mocked. Most humans couldn’t see them. The demons possessed a misty camouflage that kept them hidden. Only certain males—reapers—and daylight could pierce the veil. While mostly dumb, the demons at least knew better than to lose their best means of defense so they only came out at night.

“Maybe she’s got some ideas on how to unlock your gift.” Mizuki remained positive.

“You mean like a cattle prod that zaps me every time I fail?”

Laughter rang out as Mizuki shook her head at my reply. “You’re so funny.”

I would have said darkly sarcastic. “Guess I better go see what she wants. I’ll see you at dinner.”

With my feet scuffing, I trudged to the door and the waiting Cain. He wore his long duster, which kept him invisible to the non-magical humans. Came in handy when he wielded his great big scythe. A real one, not the version hidden in his pants. The first time I’d seen him, he’d been using it to lop off the limbs and heads of demons. I’d thought he was the Grim Reaper, here to take souls. Turned out he was a reaper, only he killed monsters for a living.

I should note I had my own pocket scythe, which, through some embedded magic, would grow full-sized when I wanted it to. However, I didn’t wear the invisible trench coat. No point, seeing as how I never left the warehouse.

“What’s Nova want?” I asked the burly reaper.

“Dunno,” he replied helpfully.

I listened to see if he’d speak inside my head, but he’d not done so since the night I’d been almost sacrificed. At the time, he’d been the one to snap me out of my shock and get me to act, but he’d denied speaking to me after the fact. “Hey, I didn’t know you could talk to me telepathically.” His reply? “Because I can’t.”

Could it have been my subconscious using his voice to goad me into action? Didn’t really matter. The end result saw me not dying that night.

Cain let me head down the steep stairs first, and he might have done so in silence, only it irked me. Mostly because of the fact he’d gone from being flirty in his grumpy-ass way to distant.

“So have you asked to be reassigned yet?” I queried.

“No.”

“Why not? I know you must be bored hanging with me all the time. You’re a fighter, not a babysitter.”

“You are important to the cause.”

I rolled my eyes despite the fact he couldn’t see them. “I’m useless, and everyone knows it.”

“You survived the daemessorum’s attempt to sacrifice you.” A demon wizard who’d kidnapped me to open a portal to release Moloch.

“Only because you and Vance cut off his head,” I reminded.

“After you freed us.”

“By accident. I still don’t know if I did anything or if the demon wizard just lost his grip on you.”

“Here we are, back to the whining. Perhaps your problem is a lack of belief in yourself.”

I wanted to refute his claim. I believed in myself plenty. Only, that was a lie. Deep down inside, I knew the truth. I wasn’t special. Just ask my parents. I’d always been a disappointment. Average grades, no athletic ability. Flunked out of college. Never amounted to anything. No wonder we rarely talked. I wondered how long it would take before everyone here realized I wasn’t some kind of savior but a loser who happened to get lucky.

The door at the bottom of the stairs opened to the din of too many people living in an open space. Smells too. So many smells. Not all of them unpleasant. Something fragrant tickled my nose and made my tummy rumble. Rani was cooking dinner, and I couldn’t wait—the one perk in this place being the meals. No more nuking frozen premade shit.

I did miss the Brownies, though. A goblin-type creature I’d previously believed only existed in folklore and fairy tales. The tiny beings enjoyed doing chores in exchange for trinkets and necessities, and their presence was fondly remembered. After the attack on the castle, they’d gone into hiding. Mizuki said they’d most likely reunite with the witches and reapers again when things settled down.

I marched across the floor, weaving around the tents and people, heading for the only closed-off room other than the bathroom: the old office. Now Nova and Asher’s—the reapers’ head honcho, known as the princep—command center.

Cain didn’t knock. He flung open the door and gestured at me to go inside.

I entered to find Nova peering at a map of the city plastered to the wall. It held blue pins to show nests that needed culling. Green pins for those that had been handled. Yellow for possible locations that required further investigation. Red for active operations.

I noted way too many scarlet spots.

Nova turned her head and offered a small smile. “Thanks for coming so promptly.”

“Might as well. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do.” I inwardly cringed at how whiny I sounded.

“How did your testing go today?”

My nose wrinkled. “Same as yesterday and the day before. Absolutely fuck all happened. I suck at this magic thing,” I groused as I flopped into a chair that creaked ominously.

“Keep trying.”

As if I hadn’t. I’d even been chugging the nasty concoction being left in my tent every morning. Devika—the resident apothecary witch—had been making it for me in the hopes it would jump-start something. “I have been trying, and I don’t seem to get it. Maybe it’s time we just admitted I’m not cut out to be your reaper witch.” The fate of the world really didn’t belong in my hands.

“Maybe you should be easier on yourself. You’ve barely had time to adjust.”

“It’s been a month,” I reminded.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Is that the only reason you called me here, to find out I suck and tell me to soldier on?”

“No. I wanted to say you have permission to leave the warehouse.”

The offer straightened me right up. “I do? What happened to keeping me bubble-wrapped from demons?”

“You still need protection, hence why Vance and Cain will accompany you. Both of them,” she emphasized. “At all times when you’re outside the compound.”

“Sure. Whatever.” Then, because I tended to be suspicious given her previous stance, I had to ask, “Why the change of heart?”

“I can sense your growing frustration. A change of scenery might help.”

“It would.” And then it hit me. “I don’t know where to go.” My old apartment was gone, condemned after a massive gas leak caused an explosion on my block. It had helped to remove the evidence of a massive demon attack that killed all my neighbors. Friends? The few I had barely spoke with me, not to mention they most likely thought me dead.

“What would you usually do in your free time?” Nova queried.

A good question. I liked to read, but I usually bought my books online. Grocery shopping wasn’t something I had to worry about anymore, not with Rani’s canteen-style kitchen that kept us fed. I had all the clothes I needed.

My lips turned down. “I didn’t do much. Work. Eat. Read. Sleep.”

“What about a walk in the park? Or maybe a movie?”

Not things I used to do but suddenly anything seemed better than sitting around for another day.

“I wouldn’t mind some popcorn and a good flick.” It then hit me. “I don’t have any money.” I’d been poor before my supposed death, but now I had literally no funds to my name.

“Don’t worry about that. Both Vance and Cain have credit cards. They can handle any expenses.”

“How soon can I go out?”

“Not today, it’s too close to dark, but I see no problem with tomorrow. We’re supposed to have a sunny day.”

Indeed, the morning dawned bright and cheery, much like my attitude, and nothing, not even Cain’s glower as we left, could ruin it.

“This is going to be awesome,” I declared as I stepped outside of my confinement and turned my face into the bright rays.

I should have known fate would bitch-slap my tiny ounce of happiness.

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Gentleman and the Witch

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Book Cover: Gentleman and the Witch
Find a StoreGooglePlayApple BooksBarnes and NobleKoboAmazon/Kindle
Part of the The Grae Sisters series:
  • The Grae Sisters (Books 1 – 3)
  • Warden and the Assassin
  • Professor and the Seer
  • Gentleman and the Witch

He promised me immortality, but first I must survive a dangerous quest.

Becoming a witch at sixteen started me on my path to greatness. A little hex here. A little spell there. My foes never knew what hit them. That magic became lucrative later on when I started my own business, but surely I am destined to do more than make skincare products for those trying to hold on to their youth.

When a gentleman who claims he used to be a god demands my help, I laugh him off. As if I’m going to put myself in harm’s way for him. However, when my home is destroyed, I decide to join him on his quest for revenge. After all, it turns out we have a common enemy.

What I didn’t expect? To end up fighting for my life on another world. Nor did I think I’d fall in love.

An affair short-lived.

Evildoers might want to use me to advance their cause, but they might end up surprised because I’m not a good witch. I will do anything, even end the world, to avenge those I love.

 

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Published: 2024-06-06
Cover Artists:
Alex with Addictive Covers (Website)
Genres:
dark humor, Fantasy Romance, god romance, killer hero, killer heroine, magic and sorcery, Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy, Witch Romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

***May contain spoilers.

Chapter One

The phone rang, and given I had caller ID, I answered, “What do you want, French fry? Shouldn’t you be banging your new husband right about now?”

Frieda, my sister—who hated the nickname French fry—had chosen to take up residence in Britain, of all places, putting her about six hours ahead.

“One, we make love. Two, it’s only nine o’clock. And three, you might want to stay inside today.”

I glanced out the window to see sunny skies. “It’s a gorgeous day, and Jinx needs a walk.” Jinx being the love of my life, a temperamental Pomeranian who only loved me—which I was totally fine with.

“If you leave, you are going to become embroiled in something life-altering,” my sister warned.

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“Really?” Well, that might be a nice change. Ever since I’d returned from my trip abroad, I’d been bored. More so than usual. What was the point of having inherited all kinds of magic only to have nowhere to use it?

“I see danger ahead for you,” Frieda added.

“Sweet.”

“You sound just like Enyo when I try to caution her about her choices,” Frieda complained.

My sister could see the future and often used it to nag us. You’d think after almost four decades of knowing each other, she’d have learned we didn’t like the easiest road. I wanted a challenge, whether it be in business or pleasure.

“Excuse me for craving some action.”

“That action might get you killed,” she grumbled.

“Now you’re talking. Is this the kind of danger I can blast to bits?” I’d been practicing my aim, seeing as how I’d recently had reason to invoke combat magic. I dared anyone to tell me it wasn’t awesome that I could shoot lightning from my fingertips.

“I swear, I don’t know why I bother.” Frieda sighed.

“Admit it, you called because you miss me.”

“Miss what? You bullying me to leave the apartment? Mocking my clothes? Telling me a dozen times a day to get laid?”

“You whine, and yet look at you now. Living in a different country, getting railed on a daily basis. The only thing you still need to work on is your wardrobe.” How I had a sister who thought it was okay to match flowered leggings with a striped shirt was beyond me.

“I see you’re going to be contrary, so I’m going to hang up now, but with just one more caution for you to ignore. Keep in mind that evil sorceresses who try to rule the world often end up dead.”

“Do you think I could be evil?” I asked, perusing myself in the mirror by my main door. I wore a cute jogging outfit—not that I jogged—in a light pink with “Juicy” spelled out in glittery letters across my butt.

“Aren’t you already?” was her sour reply.

My lips curved. “No, but I could be.”

“I don’t know why I bother. Bye. Oh, and say hi for me.”

Before I could ask “Say hi to who?” she’d severed the connection, but I didn’t mind. According to her, today was about to get interesting.

“Jinx!” I called my dog, who, of course, didn’t deign to reply. She really hated it when I treated her like a dog. Apparently, she thought herself above not only her own kind but humans too.

I found her in my bedroom, lying atop my pillow, shedding hair on it. Every night I changed the casing for it lest I choke on a strand. It had happened before, usually at three a.m.

My dog didn’t look at me, the human who dared interrupt her nap.

I crooned, “Does baby want to go for a walk?”

Boing. My dog sprang to her feet, her poufy body hiding her short legs. Her tail wagged frantically as she smiled. Yes, smiled. Jinx did love her walks.

“Let’s put a harness dress on. What do you think, polka dots or flowers today?” I had several drawers in the front hall dedicated to outfits for my dog, from adorable frothy dresses to a rubber-ducky-covered raincoat with matching booties. Jinx eschewed my suggestion of a very bright red halter dress with matching leash and chose instead a pink vest studded with rhinestones. Despite the sun, the fall weather had arrived with a sharp wind, so I wore a warm sherpa coat and ankle-high black boots. Like I said, I don’t jog.

We exited the apartment building to bright sunshine, my sudden squint making me wish I’d brought my sunglasses. I breathed in the fresh air of the outdoors, marred by the distinctive reek of cigar smoke. Rare nowadays, given most people had moved to vaping.

A glance showed a figure in a pea coat over slacks, with neatly coiffed hair and a freshly shaven jaw. The gentleman cut a rather elegant figure, though, and had to be new to the neighborhood since we’d never met. Yes, I was nosy enough to want to know who lived on my block. Annoying people were subtly encouraged to move, like that shrill priss who used to live across the street and thought she could lecture me on the joys of veganism. She crossed a line when she started in on my beloved Jinx, claiming some bullshit about pet ownership was akin to slavery and should be abolished. She even dared to unclip the leash and tell my dog to run free.

At the time, a less-than-impressed Jinx glanced at me, and I’d shrugged and said, “Your choice, baby.” Baby chose to chase the annoying twat before returning to me with a smirk. Slave my ass. If anyone held the upper hand in our relationship, it was my dog.

Given that neighbor didn’t learn her lesson and kept haranguing, a few minor spells led to her breaking her lease early. I wondered if it was the roaches or the food constantly rotting in her fridge that led to her snapping.

The gentleman standing at the bottom of my stoop smiled in my direction and my tummy fluttered. What a handsome specimen. He had a matching sexy, deep voice too. “Lovely afternoon, isn’t it?”

The weather. The inane conversation starter used by people around the world. “We don’t have many left before winter.”

“Indeed, we don’t, Ms. Grae.”

I stiffened. “Excuse me? How do you know my name? Who are you?” My suspicious side immediately wanted to know because this was obviously no chance encounter.

“Not going to guess?”

“I don’t play games.”

“No, you’re usually very direct. A commendable trait.”

“You speak as if you know me.”

“Because I do. You and I are closely linked.”

At that claim, I snorted. “What kind of lame line is that? I don’t know you.”

“True, and yet that doesn’t negate the fact you and I are bound. As are your sisters.”

The mention of my siblings had me narrowing my gaze. “Is this your way of saying you’re my daddy?” I eyed him up and down. “Damn, you must have been a toddler when you impregnated Mom.”

His brows rose. “I am not your father.”

“Is what Luke wishes Vader had said,” I mumbled.

“What? Who is this Luke?”

The way he spoke niggled at me. Like, who didn’t know the infamous Luke and that line from the movie? Somebody who’d not been exposed to any kind of media. Which was impossible if you lived anywhere on Earth these days, unless… “Are you going to keep playing word games, or are you going to tell me who you are?”

“Can’t you guess?”

I crossed my arms.

“I’m the god of monsters, but you may call me Typhon, seeing how you are going to help me retrieve my magic.”

I blinked at him then took my time sizing him up. Tall, well over six feet I realized. I stood on the stoop and still wasn’t eye-to-eye with him. Broad of shoulder, clean-shaven, impeccably dressed. Had to admit, he cleaned up nice. The last time I’d seen Typhon we were in Ariadne’s throne room, and he wore a billowing cloak that covered him head to toe, concealing his face.

“You don’t look like the god of monsters. Aren’t you supposed to have several heads?”

“I can take a monstrous shape if needed, but given humans are easily frightened, this form tends to cause fewer problems.”

I cocked my head. “How do I know you are who you say you are?”

He arched a brow. “Do you often have men introducing themselves as gods?”

“Yes,” I pertly replied. Then I added, “Usually, they’re claiming to be a god in the bedroom.”

“In my day, people didn’t pretend lest a true god smite them,” he grumbled.

“Welcome to the modern age.”

I went to step past him, and he growled. “Where are you going?”

“To walk my dog.” A dog who’d not barked at him, as she normally did with strangers. On the contrary, Jinx acted like a little lady, standing by my side, looking aloof and adorable.

“I’m not done speaking with you.”

“Then make an appointment. I’m busy.”

“I’d hardly call walking a mongrel busy.”

“Excuse me, I’ll have you know Jinx is a pure-bred Pomeranian. Her parents were show dogs. She’s got an impeccable pedigree.”

His lip curled. “She’s barely snack sized.”

“Talk about eating my dog one more time and I won’t be responsible for what happens,” I snapped. I didn’t tolerate insults about me or my sweet dog.

“Exactly what do you think you can do? I’m a god.”

“Former god. Given you haven’t regained the power Ariadne stole from you, you’re barely a step above human.”

That brought a mighty glower to his handsome face. “You are trying my patience.”

“And you’re wasting my time,” was my sassy reply. I wiggled my fingers, meaning to teach him a lesson, but rather than giving him a super wedgie, I found my thong riding up my ass crack. Ouch.

My lips parted. “What just happened?”

He smirked. “Have you already forgotten whose blessing you carry?”

My lips pinched, mostly because I didn’t want to admit it had slipped my mind that, technically, my magic came from him. It could be confusing, seeing how my mother filched my and my sisters’ power from Ariadne, who, in turn, had stolen her magic from the monster god.

What I’d not known until now was my magic couldn’t be used against him. “Is this your way of saying you’re immune to me?”

“Is that a problem?” he asked in that deep voice of his.

I wanted to say yes, but in actuality, this was kind of interesting. A man I couldn’t punish or magic into obeying. But the fact he could fuck with my powers did leave me with an interesting question. “If I can’t use your own blessing against you, then does that mean Ariadne can’t either?” Ariadne being the twatwaffle I’d recently gone up against with my sisters. She’d escaped into some portal to another world rather than give back what she stole.

“Correct. So long as I’m stuck with this”—he pulled loose his tie and undid the top button of his shirt to show me a metal collar around his neck—“she has access to my powers, but can’t use my magic against me.”

The ugly thing gave me a chill. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be cut off from my source of power. To have someone siphon it from me, making me weak.

“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about her anymore. She’s gone.”

“For now. She will return to finish what she began, unless we find her first.” His ominous prediction was a reminder that Ariadne planned to kill the monster god and permanently take his power.

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“Don’t be so sure of that. We are bound, you and I.”

I laughed. “No, we’re not. And I can prove it.” With my chin lifted, I walked away, because if there was one thing self-important people hated, it was being ignored.

Chapter Two – Typhon

The disrespect boggled the mind. Here was a woman who’d been gifted part of his magic, who bore his mark—making her his to order around—and yet she ignored him. She sauntered off, her heart-shaped buttocks swinging, with that ridiculous poof ball she called a dog.

Walked away from a god.

He scowled before taking long strides to catch up. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the park. Jinx needs her walk, don’t you, baby?” She offered a sweet smile to the hairy rat on a leash.

“We were in the midst of a conversation.”

“Which I ended because it bored me. Now run along.”

She should count herself lucky he lacked his powers or, in that moment, he would have smote her. “We are not done. Far from it. You will assist me in dealing with Ariadne.”

“I already did. Ariadne is gone from this world. Yay. And you’re welcome.”

“She took my power with her,” he reminded her.

“Which I already said is a you problem,” she countered.

“She will return which is why it’s imperative we find and stop her.”

That made the witch pause, and she cast him a sidelong glance. “Will she come back? I mean, she fled because my sisters and I were about to whoop her ass.”

“Ariadne will want revenge.”

“Ooh, sounds exciting.”

He stared at her wondering about her sanity, liking her attitude while hating it at the same time.

She smiled. “What? I’m bored. Who knew fighting an evil twat would be so energizing? I kind of hope she comes back so I can really fuck her up.”

“You might have taken Ariadne off guard, but she won’t be so easy to defeat the next time,” he warned.

“Again, assuming she returns. Could be the place she fled to is nice.”

“Doubtful. The pleasant worlds would never allow someone like her to stay.”

“But you have no way of knowing for sure. Could be she’s stuck like you were.”

A reminder that he’d been imprisoned in a barren dimension, a victim of betrayal, until recently.

“I highly doubt she went somewhere she can’t escape.”

“Says the guy who was stuck for… how long?”

“Only because she cursed the only exit.” He felt a need to defend himself.

“Whatever. I don’t know why you’d assume she went somewhere shitty.”

“Because there are few dimensions closely aligned to ours that are easy to slip in out and out of.”

“How many is a few?” she asked.

“Maybe five or six. But most of them she’d have ignored. Like Tartarus—”

“The prison for gods,” she interrupted.

“Actually, it is the home of the titans, who happen to be the only ones who are any good at keeping gods incarcerated. I can’t see her going there. Nor would she have gone to Elfenland.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It used to be the home of the fae.”

“Why used to be?”

“The fae played with things best left alone, leading to their near extinction. The only ones that remain alive were those who fled.”

“Okay, so she didn’t go to Elfenland. You said there were a few. Surely not all of them are shit?”

“I doubt she went to Hades.”

“Wait, there’s an actual Hell?”

He snorted. “Yes, but it’s not a place where souls go when they die but rather a hot cesspool for demons.”

“Does this mean there’s a Heaven too?”

“Heaven is a place of endless skies and clouds, with the only solid place being the Garden of Eden, a dangerous locale where even the most beautiful flower is deadly. Not a place Ariadne would go, just like Nullarcana, a dimension that hates magic and hunts those who have it. They’re the ones who created this collar.” He tapped it.

“Doesn’t sound like she’d be staying in any of those places. But from the sounds of it, there are more.”

“There are two planes similar to Earth, but they are very proactive about preventing intruders, so she’d have avoided those.”

“Assuming she knew where she went.”

“Oh, she knew,” was his dark response. “She most likely planned her escape well in advance.”

“I wonder if she knows what world she dumped my mom in.”

“Most likely yes, since she can’t just open a portal to nowhere,” he remarked. He’d been there when Ariadne tried to thin those fighting against her by opening a doorway and shoving the triplets’ mother through.

“What are the chances she sent my mom somewhere nice?”

“Doubtful, but I wouldn’t worry about Apate,” he murmured. Apate, the triplets’ mother, being the goddess of deceit and powerful in her own right.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that your mother is very resourceful.”

“You speak as if you know her.”

“Before my incarceration, we were acquainted.”

Deino’s lip curled. “Oh gross, you slept together.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “No. We are friends, nothing more.”

“Seems like more than friends. After all, she had triplets for you and even had the balls to steal some of your magic from Ariadne to give to us.”

“This is more a case of like sticking together. We are both gods. Ariadne is not. She is a thief. A pretender. She can’t be allowed to succeed.”

“I hate to break it to you, but hasn’t she already? I mean you were imprisoned how long?”

His lips pressed flat. “I am aware of the shame. My weakness is no excuse.”

“How much of your power does Ariadne have?”

“A good portion of it. But not all. I still have dribbles. You and your sisters have some too.”

She eyed him before saying, “If we’re carrying your magic, why haven’t you taken it back to strengthen yourself?”

He put a hand to the collar at his throat. “So long as I wear this, Ariadne will just take anything you give me.”

“Are you sure you don’t want Frieda to try and remove it? Heck, I’ll give it a shot if you want.”

He gave a violent shake of his head. “No. Given Ariadne is no longer on this world, I don’t know what will happen. Could be it severs my power permanently, kills me, or the snap of it could cause an explosion.”

“Or is that what she wants you to think so you don’t try to remove it?” she countered.

“This parasite metal isn’t from this world. I don’t know how it will react and, as such, would prefer to not take a chance. I didn’t survive my incarceration to die from being rash.” He noticed during their conversation and stroll they’d reached a park. The dog didn’t seem impressed by the other canines or the grass.

“So you want to find Ariadne to sever the contact between you hopefully without rebound.”

He inclined his head. “When your sister released Bacchus from his collar, he didn’t seem to suffer ill effect, so I am hopeful.” Bacchus being Ariadne’s husband, a god who’d also had his power stolen.

“I still can’t believe he jumped into that portal after my mom.” Her nose wrinkled.

“They were lovers before he met Ariadne.”

“Frieda says you banged Ariadne too.” Deino glanced at him from under lashes.

He winced. “Not one of my finer moments. Blame a weakness of the flesh.”

“Fair enough. I get it.” She crouched to talk with her dog in the stupidest voice. “Okay, little sweet baby, you go do a tinkle, and if you do a number two, I’ve got a treat for you.”

“What are you doing?” he asked with a hint of incredulity.

“Cheering on my favorite girl so she’ll do her business outside instead of on my shag.” She continued singing in that strange, high-pitched voice.

“You let your dog rule you.” His mouth rounded. “A thing not even the size of your head.”

“Excuse me? My head is not that big.”

He glared at the dog. “You.” He pointed. “Defecate.”

The fluffy creature stared at him.

He stared back.

This was embarrassing. The god of monsters shouldn’t be losing a battle of wills with a dog.

“We are wasting time. We need to find Ariadne,” he growled.

“What’s with this ‘we’ shit?” she grumbled.

“You’re going to help.”

“Pretty sure I’m not.”

“Your mother owes me.”

“And? That’s her. Not me, or my sisters.”

“She had you for that express purpose.”

Her expression tightened, and a hard glint entered her gaze. “I am aware Mother didn’t have us out of some maternal instinct. I don’t need you shoving it in my face. And it also changes nothing. I don’t owe you shit.”

Frustration built inside him. There was a time when no one dared speak to him so disrespectfully. The witch saw him as weak. Less than a man. She wouldn’t help without the right motivation.

He couldn’t think of many things that would get her to change her mind. Threatening her sisters would be the quickest but could also backfire, as she was the type to plot vengeance. So what else might sway her?

“Help me and I will give you even more power.”

She eyed him. “I already have quite a bit.”

“But not enough to be immortal.”

He knew he’d surprised her by the slight stiffening of her body. She was careful not to show too much interest. “Immortality won’t help if I’m dead before I get it.”

“But if you succeed…” he teased.

“What are the odds of that?”

“I don’t know. However, the fact Ariadne fled rather than fought indicates she’s fearful we’ll manage to defeat her.”

“Or she’s gone somewhere she can shore up her defense and pick us off if we come for her.”

“The quest will be dangerous.” He wouldn’t lie about that.

“Not exactly a selling point.”

“If Ariadne returns before we find her, she will want vengeance on those who thwarted her,” he warned.

“Meaning me and my sisters.” She looked away before asking, “How are we supposed to handle her if you don’t know where she went?”

“There are ways of finding out.”

“Let’s say we do find her. She still has your magic, and while she might not be able to blast you to kingdom come, she won’t have a problem eradicating me.”

“If we can separate her from the armband that is linked to my collar—”

“Oh, just that?” she sarcastically retorted. “Easy peasy. Let me get right on that.”

“It won’t be simple, but your sister achieved it with ease for Bacchus.”

“Then why aren’t you asking her for help?”

“Alas, the journey we must embark upon is better suited for someone of your skills.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Who says I want to travel? Not to mention, you’re assuming I can replicate what Frieda did. Need I remind you that my sister acted in a moment of panic with no clue what she was doing?”

“A good thing you are the levelheaded sister who will practice ahead of time.”

She stared at him. “Practice how? You told me I couldn’t take off your collar.”

“There are other objects of magic you can attempt to drain.” The armband his collar controlled could only be removed by siphoning the magic holding it in place.

“You’ve got an answer for everything.”

“Of course, I do. I am a god after all.”

Her laughter rang out bright and cheerful and oddly pleasant despite the situation.

She shook her head. “You are something, Typhon. Let’s say I agree, how do I know you won’t go back on your word once you’re the monster god again? Who’s to stop you from killing me instead of paying up?”

At times he wished he had that kind of dishonor. “I can only give my word.”

“Trust isn’t something I give to just anyone.”

“Understandable, but I will mention, as someone who was betrayed, I would not ever do the same. If I want you dead, I will tell you so.”

“Gonna warn me before the smiting?”

His lips twitched. Surely, he wasn’t amused by this witch. “I always warn because the chase is part of the fun.”

Once more her laughter rang out. “Better be careful, or I might start liking you.”

“Does this mean you’ll help?”

Deino crouched to grab her dog and tuck it under her arm. “I’ll get back to you about it. I want to talk to Frieda about my future first.”

“She might not be able to see it if it requires you to travel to another dimension.”

“Perhaps not, but she can tell if I’ll come back.”

“When will you have an answer?” he asked as she once more dared to walk away.

She cast him a coy glance over her shoulder. “I’ll call you.”

Should he point out he didn’t have a phone? In his day, prayer was enough to get his attention. In his day, she would have never refused.

And even more disrespectfully, she made him wait.

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