Eve Langlais ~ New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of romance, fantasy and more.
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Alien Mates

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Book Cover: Alien Mates
Part of the Alien Mate series:
  • Alien Mate
  • Alien Mate 2
  • Alien Mate 3
  • Alien Mates

Forget red and green. This Christmas is going to be blue—and sexy.

When a blue hunk suddenly appears in Colette’s office claiming he’s an alien who requires assistance locating suitable human females as mates, she ends up telling him to shove a candy cane where the sun doesn’t shine. Everyone knows ghosts and ETs aren’t real, not to mention this girl boss doesn’t have time for pranks—or a love life.

However, when Cade and his co-commander, Jaspar, prove they are indeed from another galaxy, she soon sees the opportunity to do something no one else Earth can—help them find brides. Just one problem. The US government are convinced the aliens are preparing to invade.

They’re not completely wrong.

It seems the blue hunks aren’t the only visitors, but the invading Krampusonians aren’t here to fall in love. They’re planning to ruin everyone’s Christmas.

Can a pair of blue warriors prove to humanity that not all aliens are bad? And if they do succeed, can they convince Colette she was meant to be their mate?

 

Available on: 2025-11-20
Cover Artists:
Yuro Ishi Art
Genres:
alien romance, fated mates, Menage/Polyamory, Romantic Comedy
Tags:
english
If you like Alien Mates, you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Reverse Abduction

Reverse Abduction

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Jealous and Freakn'

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A Demon and her Scot

Earth’s Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6)

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Book Cover: Earth's Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6)
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Part of the Earth's Magic series:
  • Earth’s Magic : Collection One (Books 1-3)
  • Earth’s Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6)
  • Earth’s Daughter
  • Earth’s Lair
  • Earth’s Elf
  • Earth’s Paladin
  • Earth’s Secret
  • Earth’s Triangle

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
Genres:
anthology/boxset/collection, curse romance, dark humor, dryad romance, killer hero, killer heroine, magic and sorcery, Menage/Polyamory, Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy, second chance romance, Shapeshifter Romance, Supernatural Mystery, werewolf romance, Witch Romance
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english
If you like Earth's Magic : Collection Two (Books 4- 6), you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Dragon Misfit

Dragon Misfit

Book Cover: Lion's Quest

Lion's Quest

Book Cover: The Desert King's Spy

The Desert King's Spy

Scythe & Souls Collection (Books One to Three)

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

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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Published: 2024-12-05
Genres:
anthology/boxset/collection, dark humor, magic and sorcery, Menage/Polyamory, older heroine, paranormal women's fiction, reaper romance
Tags:
english
If you like Scythe & Souls Collection (Books One to Three), you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Werewolf Noel

Werewolf Noel

Book Cover: Even Crazier

Even Crazier

Book Cover: Dear Satan...

Dear Satan...

Blood Pack Beginning

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Book Cover: Blood Pack Beginning
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Part of the Pack series:
  • Defying Pack Law
  • Betraying the Pack
  • Seeking Pack Redemption
  • New Pack Order
  • Blood Pack Beginning

Pack Law doesn’t apply to vampires, but Sasha is still determined to take three wolves as her mates.

Sasha lives in the shadows, emerging only to fight at the behest of her sire. But her latest assignment hits a snag in the form of a few Lycans. They aren’t the rogues she was looking for but might be the men she needs—if she can get them to heel. When they’re not howling and shedding, they’re barking at each other, trying to establish who will be her lover.

There’s big and burly Amir, who gave up everything for his family but wants to do something meaningful with his life.

Cyrus, the cynical skeptic who is leery of the tenuous alliance between vampires and Lycans.

The playful Diego who is ready to do whatever it takes to impress Sasha.

Three delectable Lycans means Sasha has some choices to make. Invest in a dog food company? Buy some flea collars? Maybe take them as her mates, so long as they understand there can only be one alpha…

Her.

However, seduction isn’t the most pressing issue at hand. The death of the trouble making Morpheus has revealed a mysterious and even more dangerous player. Lycans, even dormants, are being culled by this mysterious master and, as if she didn’t have enough on her plate, there’s reports of monsters attacking humans. Fighting ghouls is easy compared to stopping a traitor who would have their kind exposed to humanity.

Can Sasha and her Lycan allies—and lovers—stop the coming conflict before it’s too late?

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Published: 2025-03-06
Cover Artists:
Glowing Moon Designs
Genres:
dark romance, fated mates, killer hero, killer heroine, Menage/Polyamory, Paranormal Romance, reverse harem, Shapeshifter Romance, vampire romance, werewolf romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Prologue

Fingers dragged across the surface of the vertical glass tank, the liquid within the deep burgundy of a finely aged wine. However, this fluid would never be found in a corked bottle. A pity, since only the finest vintage of blood had been used. Only the best would do.

A hint of movement within the enclosed capsule gave hope and led to a whispered, “Soon, my love. Soon we shall be together.”

Regeneration took time, especially with grievous wounds. However, there were ways of speeding up the process. Hence the need for only the most rare and delicious of blood.

A whisper in the mind hinted of hunger, indicating a need to refresh the contents of the tank.

“Patience. A fresh supply shall be arriving momentarily.” Acquiring subjects who would donate to the tank had become slightly more challenging, as those being hunted now took more precautions.

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The brief moment of connection faded. At least they’d been happening more often of late.

Long strides brought them from the vault protecting the tank. It clanged shut behind and hissed as it sealed. No chances would be taken, for death had already come much too close to the one cherished above all.

The many barriers, installed to protect, opened and shut behind with but a thought. No key existed for these portals by design. Only those accompanied and with permission could enter. The servants used to perform maintenance didn’t retain any memories of their chores. None could know, not until the time was ripe.

Rising to a level above brought them to the preparation area where they collected the precious and necessary blood. Or would have collected, if not for the empty cages. The last of the subjects had been drained. Soon, though, new donors would fill those spots. They’d sacrifice the ripest among them to the tank, while those who lacked the right kind of richness to their blood would be put to other use.

Past the blood collection chamber, they entered the transformation wing, also sitting empty, the last of the latent Lycans either transformed or dead. The process to change them had proven tricky. The torture protocol hadn’t been difficult to conduct. Even better, the enjoyment found in making the subjects scream and plead for a mercy that wouldn’t be forthcoming. It was the other element of the transformation recipe that had been more elusive. The transformation required pain, that of the body and soul, as well as a true mating to activate a latent’s dormant wolf. Many dormants failed to make the transition, not because they didn’t scream in agony but more because the true mates of the latents proved difficult to find.

Hence why, unlike Morpheus, they expanded their scope. While dormants would still be acquired, it was time for the Lycans to also do their part. Already some thralls, their minds initially captured by Morpheus and Roderick, remained nestled amongst some of the packs. Working from within, their subtle treachery moving the plan forward.

Those that didn’t feed the tank would grow the army that would soon be unleashed upon the world, starting a war neither Lycan nor humanity suspected—or could stop.

The time for living in the shadows had passed, even as many on the vampire council refused to accept this new truth. Fools. It would seem in the centuries they’d spent buried in their dark prison they’d learned nothing. The explosion of social media and cameras capturing every event of people’s lives made keeping the secret of vampires and Lycans next to impossible, so might as well force the revelation and get it over and done with.

If all went according to plan, though, there would be no repeat of the era where pitchfork and torch-wielding peons hunted nonhumans almost to extinction. The mundane that multiplied like roaches might have access to weaponry and greater numbers, but it would take only a few key players in government to hamstring any attempt at defense.

A scuffing approach had them whirling. Shadows gathered as a cloak to cover them head to toe.

The young man who entered sniffed and looked around before calling out. “Master?”

The shadows were released to reveal their presence. “What do you want?”

The groveling dog, barely more than a pup, threw themselves prostrate at their feet and, with face pressed to the floor, reported, “The hunters have reached the town of Moon Dew.”

As planned but obviously something had gone amiss. “What is the issue?”

“One of them is questioning your orders.”

That raised a brow. It would seem one of the conscripted Lycans pushed against the command planted in their mind. “And what do we do with a disobedient dog?”

The boy shuddered before whispering, “They will be handled.”

A crouch brought them close to the quivering pup. “Do you have an issue with my order?”

“No, Master.”

“Good. Now, run along and ensure my command is carried out. I expect to see the cages full by morning.”

“Yes, Master.” The young rogue scampered off. Obedient and eager to please. The young were always so much easier to turn. Mature men, often set in their stubborn ways, fought hardest against the vampire control placed upon them. Their ability to resist, though, made them still necessary. Children, while much more malleable, lacked the strength and skill of their elders. Not to mention, the youngest and most trainable were still needed by the beloved.

Such a shame they’d been harder to acquire of late, as the dog packs rallied and closed ranks. While they didn’t understand the true nature of their foe, they grasped the threat, unlike the dormants. That ostracized and banished group had no warning. No pack to protect them. Even better, some of latents had chosen to gather into their own communities, such as the one in Moon Dew. How kind of them to cluster in one place for the culling that was about to come.

It wouldn’t be long before humans and Lycans alike began to realize something was amiss, but by then, it would be too late. Once darkness consumed the world, there would be only two choices left.

Serve, or die.

Chapter 1

The small town of Moon Dew slept. The houses and few businesses displayed dark windows with the only illumination coming from glowing streetlamps. The dogs—the kind people owned, and not the version that shifted on full moons—didn’t bark. The roads loomed empty without a single set of headlights or purr of a motor. All appeared calm.

Too calm. Sasha didn’t trust it, and with reason. After all, she’d followed a rogue Lycan here. A lone and rabid wolf that, left unchecked, could end up controlled by their enemy.

They’d found the fucker thanks to old-fashioned tracking, a little bit of magic, and the small amount of Roderick’s ashes she’d ingested after Thaddeus tasked her with rounding up the stray Lycans who’d been influenced by Roderick.

For the unknowing, Roderick used to be a monstrous blend of werewolf and vampire, an impossibility somehow brought into being by the late vampire queen—a queen later murdered by her own creation. But Roderick didn’t stop there. As an alpha, he had the power to subvert and control Lycans, turning them into murderers. Despite Roderick’s eventual demise, those thralls continued to cause trouble.

With Roderick dead, his thralls were leaderless and dangerous. She knew immediately that her target was Lycan, due to his scent, and previously touched by Roderick, due to the red spark in his eyes when their gazes met and the curl of his lip.

Sasha intended to take him into custody and question whether there were more in the area. However, a gaggle of humans had passed between her and the dog, giving him a chance to jump in a car and speed off—but not before she’d memorized the license plate.

A search through databases not accessible by the public revealed the car to be a rental, paid for in cash, with the only paperwork useless, as they’d used a fake driver’s license. A good thing she knew a hacker. Her friend and fellow flock member, Pierrot, managed to forge a link between the vehicle’s onboard navigation and an app he’d installed on her phone. Hence how they followed the car with the mind-poisoned rogue.

Of course, following would have been easier if an accident hadn’t occurred literally right in front of them, forcing them to sit in traffic and allowing the rogue to acquire an annoying lead. How she wished she’d stuck with her Mustang, but Pierrot had insisted on switching out to one of the flock’s standard SUVs for safety and space in case they took rogues in for questioning. In truth, Pierrot hated how fast she drove in the convertible, but at least that speed would have helped them make up for time. As it was, the rogue’s vehicle had been stopped in Moon Dew for more than an hour by the time they caught up.

The other flock members assigned by Thaddeus had pulled up mere moments before she did. She parked behind their SUV on the outskirts of town, and Tim, Anabel, and Jorge exited to greet her and Pierrot then hold a brief discussion.

“Do you think this is where Roderick’s remaining thralls are hiding out?” Tim asked. The freckled vampire peered around as if he could spot their lair.

“Doubtful,” Sasha replied.

“The car is not parked outside a house or building,” Pierrot added. The rogue had left it on the shoulder of the road by a gas station closed for the night.

“Maybe he’s inside the garage,” she murmured, stalking over for a sniff. The stench of gasoline overpowered, and she caught nothing.

“Something’s wrong,” Anabel murmured, sidling close.

Sasha glanced around. “Agreed.” It took her a moment to figure out what bothered. “It’s too quiet.”

Jorge joined them, hands shoved in his pockets. “Probably because it’s like one in the morning.”

True, but she couldn’t shake the sense of something amiss. “Spread out,” Sasha ordered.

Pierrot and Tim headed off to the left, while Anabel and Jorge flitted right. As for Sasha, she strode straight up the middle of the road, head constantly swiveling, seeking any sign of movement, following the fresh scent of Lycans on foot.

Four, if her nose wasn’t wrong.

As she walked, the uncanny silence pressed down. Yes, it was late, and people would be abed, but her skin prickled with suspicion.

The trail she followed diverged from the road and led her to the front door of a bungalow with light blue siding and a tidy front yard. It didn’t look like a rogue lair and yet, at the same time, would be the perfect cover.

She lifted her hand and waited while her companions quietly joined her. She held up four fingers and inclined her head toward the house. They got the hint. Anabel and Jorge infiltrated the backyard, covering the rear, while Pierrot and Tim split up to watch the east and west sides of the house in case the rogues chose to escape via a window.

As for Sasha, she would use the front door. She expected to have to force her way inside, only a turn of the knob showed it unlocked. The moment it opened a scent wafted out. A familiar one.

Death.

She quickly entered—because, unlike certain movies and books, she didn’t need an invitation—and checked through the home before she emerged and uttered a piercing whistle that drew her companions.

“What happened to sneaking up on the rogues?” Jorge questioned as he came into sight.

“They’re long gone.” Her grim reply.

“How can you be sure? Their car is still here,” Anabel pointed out.

“They either had a second vehicle or stole one, because the bodies inside have been dead at least an hour.” The congealed blood told the time. “Looks like the adult female, human, was gutted by a knife. The infant, a human male, was torn apart by something with claws.”

“Since when do the rogues slaughter humans?” Anabel questioned.

“I don’t know, but it appears as if they didn’t kill them all, going by the family photos and personal effects that suggest the house also had a male occupant and a second child who are missing.”

“Perhaps they weren’t home,” Pierrot murmured.

“Do you really believe that?” Sasha scoffed. More likely they were taken to feed Morpheus, a high-ranking vampire who had long been a thorn in the side of her boss, Thaddeus.

“I wonder if they hit other homes.” Tim glanced at the other dark abodes.

Without a word, they split up and began entering them, finding the same scenario played out over and over. Slaughtered families, young and old, all human but for one: they discovered a single Lycan male butchered outside one home. An innocent or one of the rogues? If going by smell alone, then Sasha leaned toward the latter, but it didn’t seem like he was killed by one of the residents in self-defense. There was nothing to suggest a scuffle. He’d clearly been ambushed. So why, then, did they kill one of their own? Could it be he’d balked at the slaughter?

Most of the houses they’d searched showed indications some folks had been taken, without rhyme or reason. Young, old, male and female. What set them apart? Thaddeus probably could have answered, but the boss tended to keep things close until he felt it necessary to divulge

Another interesting fact? The rogue she’d been tracking had been joined by others. By Sasha’s reckoning of the various scents, a dozen converged on the small town, and she had to wonder why this particular place.

“Seems to me the rogues who did this are gone,” Pierrot remarked as the flock converged in the middle of the street.

“And left behind the rental we followed, meaning we have nothing to track,” Tim added.

What no one said, but all understood? The mission was a total bust.

Or so Sasha thought until a hint of sound distracted. She froze in place and closed her eyes to concentrate, sifting scents, analyzing sounds. A whisper of movement sent her running, sprinting across a yard, vaulting a bush. The other vamps joined her, if more slowly. While Sasha’s mental powers of persuasion might not be the strongest, she didn’t lack for strength and agility.

She quickly outpaced her brethren and caught sight of four fleeing figures, their legs pumping almost as fast as hers, the scent wafting in their wake most definitely canine.

Had the rogues left some of their number behind?

The boss would be pleased if she could capture them alive for questioning. She put on a burst of speed and closed the gap between her and the fleeing group. They headed for a structure on the edge of the town, the cross jutting from the roof indicating a church.

The four dogs barreled through the thick wooden doors and slammed them shut. Sasha’s pace slowed as she heard the thumps and bumps of furniture being moved as they barricaded the entrance.

As if that would stop her.

She stood in front of the door, hands planted on her hips waiting for her brethren to reach her.

“I take it they went inside,” Jorge huffed. The thicker-set vampire wasn’t used to having to chase. While most of their kind enjoyed greater stamina and speed, overindulgence and a lack of exercise made a difference.

“Yeah, they’re in there,” Sasha drawled. The rogues probably mistakenly believed themselves safe. After all, some folks trusted that a church was some kind of holy sanctuary that none would dare attack. Wrong.

Even if those cowering had no clue what Sasha was, it should be noted that no religion on earth could stop a vampire in its tracks. As a matter of fact, only a few things could actually kill a vampire. Direct and prolonged sunlight. The removal of the heart—because a stake injury could be healed, especially with the more seasoned vampires. Beheading was also popular, as few things could survive without a noggin, but again, that depended on the age and what was done to the head and body afterwards. Vampires weren’t easy to kill. A good thing, since pretty much everyone and everything hated them. Not that she cared how her dinners felt.

Sasha waved a hand. “Spread out and cover all the entrances. Windows, too, just in case. I’ll see if I can convince them to come out.” Doubtful, because without direct eye contact or touch, she’d have difficulty mesmerizing. However, chatting up her prey would give her team a chance to get in position before they slammed their way in.

Once her companions moved off, Sasha sauntered to the door with a nonchalance her once-human self would have envied. She’d been a street rat before Thaddeus found her. Living off the discards of others. Stealing what she needed to survive. A pathetic young girl who’d run away from the abuse at home, only to find out the world could be just as cruel. But she stopped being a victim when Thaddeus turned her into a vampire.

With hands planted on her hips, Sasha called out to those cowering inside the church. “I know you’re in there.”

No reply.

“Are you going to open the door and cooperate like good little dogs, or am I going to have to drag your asses out?”

“Fuck off.”

Not an unexpected response.

“You know,” she commented casually, “in the story, it’s supposed to be the wolf outside the building, threatening to huff and puff if the little pigs don’t come out.”

“I prefer the one where the wolf eats the annoying girl,” replied the same deep voice.

“You’d have to open the door to even try,” Sasha’s riposte.

“We’re not fucking stupid. We saw what you did to the people in town.”

Her brow arched. They thought Sasha and her companions responsible? Nice try. She wouldn’t fall for their deflection tactic; however, for shits and giggles, she would play along. “That wasn’t me or my friends.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s the truth.” She found it highly improbable they weren’t involved. Not surprising? That they claimed innocence. “We came across this town tracking some rogues but arrived a touch too late. Or not. After all, it appears you were left behind.”

“We didn’t kill no one,” a reedy voice exclaimed, leading to grumbling from the others inside. “I will not shut up,” huffed the same guy. “We didn’t do nuthin’.”

“If you’re so innocent, then why hide?” Sasha countered.

“Because we’re not going to end up as some newspaper headline,” snarled the guy with the deep timber.

“You can’t hide in there forever.”

“Just long enough for the authorities to arrive,” exclaimed the high-pitched one, which led to more hushed arguing as his friends tried to shut him up.

Had they truly called for help? If yes, then Sasha’s team had little time before they needed to vacate.

“You know you sound rather coherent for murdering psychopaths,” she remarked, eyeing the door and its hinges, seeking out a weak spot. “Thralls are usually less interested in meaningful conversation and more intent on killing.”

“We’re not murderers,” growled Mr. Deep.

“As if you’d admit to it. Tell me, did you enjoy killing the weak in this town? Slaughtering innocent babes and their parents? Such tough doggies.”

“We didn’t kill anyone!” retorted the man.

“Says the wolf.” Her chuckled reply. “Or are you going to tell me you’ve never killed?”

“Only wild animals. Can you say the same?”

“Nope.” She popped the P. “And I’ll be killing again before the night is over. The question is, which of you will die first?” No point in letting them know she planned to capture them. Fear could work wonders when other methods of persuasion failed.

“If you didn’t murder the folks in town, then who did?” A new voice entered the chat.

“Your fellow rogues. Duh.” She rolled her eyes.

“For the last time, we’re not in league with whoever did this,” snapped the deepest voice. “Not to mention, why would we kill family?”

Hold on. Did these four wolves have ties to this town? Could it be these males had somehow escaped the rogues that swept through? Were they some of the ones who were missing from the houses?

“If they’re your family, then why didn’t you stop the murders?” she asked.

“We arrived too late,” a soft, disgruntled reply.

“Arrived from where? It’s an odd time to be out and about.” Unless you were nocturnally inclined, like a vampire.

“We got a call from—”

Someone cut off the one spilling. “Shut the fuck up, Omar.”

“Actually, let him speak,” she interjected. “Your reply might very well decide your fate.”

“You already said you planned to kill us,” Mr. Deep reminded.

“That was when I assumed you were some of the murderers. If you’re innocent—”

“We are! As if I’d kill my aunt,” exclaimed one of them, the last part of the statement cracking.

“As I was saying, if you’re innocent, then you have nothing to fear from me. But I will require you come with me and answer some questions.” The more they spoke, the less they seemed like mindless thralls. Perhaps they were telling the truth.

“The answer is still fuck off.”

“I get better results when I fuck on. Preferably on top.” She liked to control the ride. “Now, be nice doggies and open the door.”

“Not happening.” A low rumbled denial.

“You’ve got until the count of three. One.”

Sudden yells from inside indicated her brethren had breached the church.

She crossed her arms and waited on the other side of the door, as there were thumps and yells but no blood-curdling death cries. Good. She needed them for questioning.

In short order, the tussling ceased and the door swung open. Sasha took in the sight of the sulking doggies, four of them in total, their clothing, unstained by blood, adding credence to their claim that they weren’t part of the murders.

Hair mussed. Lips swelling from blows. Eyes glaring.

Handsome lot. Late twenties to early thirties. Thick heads of hair, fit bodies. Even the wimpiest of them would probably taste delicious.

“Don’t you even think of tasting me,” hissed the one with the deep voice, a burly fellow with a glare that gave her tingles.

Oops, she’d said the last part aloud. Her lips curved. “I promise you’d enjoy it.”

“I’d rather die.”

“That can also be arranged. For the moment, though, you will come with us.”

“As if we have a choice,” a bitter reply from the skinniest of the group.

“You’re right. You don’t have a choice, and I suggest you behave during transport, or I, and my friends, might decide one of you is expendable as a snack.”

Mr. Deep’s jaw stiffened. “You’re not Lycan.”

“No shit, Puppy Chow.” Sasha smirked. “Can you take a guess as to what I really am?” While some Lycans knew of vampires, the revelation was recent and not common knowledge.

“You smell…” Mr. Deep pursed his lips as his nostrils flared. “Not human.”

“Correct.” She nodded toward her fellows. “Pierrot, why don’t you smile for the wolf?”

Her companion flashed his pointed fangs, and Omar recoiled at the sight of them, unlike his buds, who only gaped in shock.

Mr. Deep sounded incredulous as he said, “You’re vampires?”

To which Sasha replied, “Someone give the smart puppy a bone.”

COLLAPSE
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If you like Blood Pack Beginning, you might be interested in:
Book Cover: Sinner

Sinner

Book Cover: Toxic

Toxic

Book Cover: Twisted Metal Heart

Twisted Metal Heart

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.

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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.

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These hounds are ready to howl for love.

Hekate’s hounds have a new mission to protect a human. Not the most exciting task until they meet her face to face—and get a bite of her sandwich. Adeline’s charm gets their hearts and back paws thumping, but there is a problem: Why are zombies attracted to her, and only her?

Good thing Ambrose and Orion are experts at sniffing out secrets.

Adeline is living the quiet life with her cats when she meets two men determined to save her from the monsters that keep showing up on her doorstep. She’s never been special. Never had any luck either, unless the bad kind counts. But that’s about to change.

Turns out there’s a grim plot afoot that is targeting cryptids and it somehow involves Adeline. When mysterious soldiers try to kidnap her, it’s up to Hekate’s hounds to keep her safe.

Will they be able to save their mate from the evil that is hunting her?

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Published: 2024-08-22
Cover Artists:
Alex with Addictive Covers (Website)
Genres:
fated mates, magic and sorcery, Menage/Polyamory, Paranormal Romance, reverse harem, Romantic Comedy, Shapeshifter Romance
Tags:
english
Excerpt:

Prologue

The witch, wearing a long flowing cloak with the hood up, keeping her face in shadow, left her cottage, a woven basket hung over her arm.

A watching Ambrose and Orion glanced at each other and grinned. Now was their chance.

The young boys, one pale of skin with golden hair, and the other his opposite with ebony skin and dark crown, crept down from the tree boughs, careful to not snap any twigs or rustle leaves. People claimed witches could set spells to listen for intruders. They also muttered about how the spell-casting hags kept treasure troves hidden in their abodes. A wealth two orphaned boys could use to fill their hungry bellies.

Orion sauntered without a care across the tended cobble path to the front door, but Ambrose hesitated. A prickle on his nape led to him glancing behind at the forest. The witch should be long gone, yet a sudden disquiet had him whispering, “Maybe this ain’t such a good idea.”

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Orion paused on the threshold of the house to peer back at him over his shoulder. “Don’t be a yellow belly. T’will be simple. We go in, grab a few things, and leave. She’ll probably not even notice.”

“I’d notice if it was my things being stolen,” Ambrose insisted.

“That’s ‘cause you don’t have much but the clothes on your back. You’d get cold right quick if you was naked,” Orion said with a snicker.

“Bloody death tax. Took everything,” grumbled Ambrose.

When the pox took his parents, it left him with nothing. His home, his few belongings, all seized by the tax man and him tossed to the streets to fend for himself. Alone and afraid, Ambrose spent those first few days in misery, huddled in alleys, scrounging for scraps. It was how Orion found him.

The same age as Ambrose, Orion knew how to survive and taught Ambrose. Begging for coins or food. Stealing a bite to eat when vendors had their backs turned. Not exactly how Ambrose wanted to live, but starvation had a way of changing a boy’s morals.

“I’m going in. You coming?” Orion asked as he pushed open the door.

“Yeah.” As Ambrose shuffled to join his friend, he couldn’t help glancing around, still convinced someone watched.

The inside of the cottage proved as rustic as the exterior, but tidy. Fragrant herbs hung in bunches from the rafters. A stone hearth showed wood piled and ready for lighting. A pot hung from a hook over it. A table took up the most room and held a basket full of fruit.

Orion snagged an apple and bit in, the crispy crunch almost as appetizing as the juices that ran down his chin. Ambrose almost drooled.

“Delicious! Have one.” Orion tossed him an apple.

Ambrose caught it but didn’t eat it. He eyed his friend and said, “Whatcha think the witch’ll do to us if she catches us stealing?”

“She won’t catch us,” a confident Orion stated.

“What if she turns us into frogs or something?” He remembered it happening in a story his mother used to recite to him before bed.

“Then we’ll have plenty of flies to eat.” Orion poked out his tongue comically before taking another juicy bite.

Ambrose couldn’t resist. He crunched into his apple and groaned at the sweet, crisp taste.

“I’m going to grab some for later.” Orion stuffed two apples into his pockets, plus a pair of plums. Fruit that should have been out of season. How did the witch get them?

“She doesn’t look rich,” Ambrose noted as he ate his treat.

“That’s ‘cause she hides it. It’s probably under the floor.”

“It’s dirt.”

Orion frowned. “Maybe in the ceiling.” They craned to look upward, but only herbs hung.

“We should leave. Those apples will tide us over until tomorrow.”

“Not yet.” Orion moved to the bed and the chest at the foot of it. He flipped open the lid to show folded garments and linens. He rifled through the pile before exclaiming, “Aha.” He held up a picture frame, the edges of it gilded. Probably valuable.

Ambrose moved closer and gazed at the photo within, a recent thing that he didn’t quite like, seeing as how he didn’t understand how a box could spit out an image. Had to be magic. The picture was of the witch, recognizable by her beaked nose, but younger. She had her arm around a girl about their age with the same feature. A daughter most likely.

“I didn’t know the witch had a child,” Ambrose mused. Everyone stated she lived alone.

A subdued Orion murmured, “I saw a grave in the garden.”

“Oh.” For some reason, it made Ambrose sad. He knew what it felt like to lose someone close. Before he could say anything, Orion stuffed the picture frame back into the chest and slammed the lid shut.

“You’re right. There’s nothing here. Let’s go.”

It relieved Ambrose to hear that. Was it wrong to take a few pieces of fruit? Yes, but taking a memory? That would have truly been terrible.

As they whirled to head for the door, it opened, and the witch stood framed.

Both boys froze, mouths agape.

“Hello,” she said softly.

“Um…” Orion appeared at a loss for words.

Whereas Ambrose blabbered, “We’re sorry. We was hungry and had an apple.”

“We can’t give back the ones we ate, but here’s the stuff we took for later.” Orion emptied his pockets without prompting.

The witch pushed back her hood to show a face lined with age, her hair gray and tied back, her eyes intense and a strange mauve color.

“Do not apologize for eating because you’re hungry. Thank you, though, for not taking the only picture I have of my daughter.”

“We don’t want to be thieves,” Ambrose blurted out. “But no one will hire us on account we’re too young.”

“It’s a crime how they treat orphans in this town.” The witch shook her head. “And I can sense you have good hearts. I know someone who is looking for boys such as you. Hard-working lads to do special tasks.”

“What kind of tasks?” Orion asked suspiciously, with good reason. There’d been a gent who’d offered to hire them but had been vague about the details. It turned out he’d wanted to use them in a way no young boy should ever be used. They’d escaped, but the close call left them leery.

As if she’d read their minds, the witch shook her head. “Never would my goddess abuse the innocent.”

“Which goddess do you serve?” Ambrose’s parents hadn’t been very religious. They went to church every Sunday, but they’d not been true believers like some.

“I serve the Goddess Hekate. Have you heard of her?”

Orion shook his head, but Ambrose knew. “She is the goddess of magic. Why would she need us?”

“Because not everyone can hear her voice. How would you feel about being her messengers?”

“What’s it pay?” Orion got to the crux of it.

“Enough for you to have a bed every night to sleep in. Food in your belly. Proper clothing instead of rags.”

“Is it dangerous?” Ambrose blurted out because it sounded too good to be true.

“At times it might be. As her messengers, you might have to travel to perilous locations.”

“Can’t travel far on two feet,” Orion pointed out.

“A good thing that transportation will be provided,” the witch stated with a smile. “To start, you’ll travel by carriage or train, but as you grow, should you stay in her service, then you’ll have to learn to ride.”

“I’d get to ride a horse!” Ambrose had always loved them but only ever sat on a pony once at a fair.

“Yes, a horse,” the witch laughed in reply. “What say you, Orion and Ambrose?”

Rather than ask how she knew their name, they nodded, and Orion solemnly stated, “We accept.”

From that day forward, they never went hungry again. On the contrary, they thrived and proved themselves worthy servants. They eventually became known as Hekate’s hounds, her scions on Earth.

Chapter 1

“She sure is cute,” Orion stated, eyeing the woman with voluptuous curves as she entered a store across the street.

“You should know better than to use the C word,” Ambrose chided.

“Can’t say cute, can’t say hot, can’t say holy fucking boner. These modern times suck,” Orion pouted.

“It’s called evolution,” Ambrose stated, sounding pompous. His close friend of the past century liked to think himself a scholar and read all kinds of stuffy magazines and books. Orion preferred to be in the moment. And in that moment, he really admired the woman they’d been sent to observe. A week now, and he tired of simply watching.

“Evolution is us crawling from the sea. Making perfectly good words bad is just annoying,” Orion grumbled under his breath. But his discontent didn’t last long. “Isn’t it time we introduced ourselves?”

“Most definitely not. Our goddess tasked us with watching over the human. It will be easier if we do so from afar.” Their goddess being Hekate, the deity of magic. They’d been her scions ever since she took them under her wing. Best decision ever.

“Watch for what exactly?” Their instructions hadn’t been clear. They’d received the mission in the form of a mental message that simply showed them an image of the woman, her location, and the instruction to protect if necessary. Nothing more.

Given they were obedient hounds, they’d hopped a plane to Montreal and located the woman in question, who lived in a tiny basement apartment with its windows barred. They’d followed her every morning for the past week as she went to her job in a tiny sandwich shop.

While Hekate had indicated the female was human, Orion had given her trail a good sniff to make sure. Sometimes their goddess didn’t provide all the details when she sent them on a mission. It should be noted she didn’t get involved often in Earthly or human affairs. Although, of late, they’d had back-to-back tasks. Blame the fact times were a-changing.

Old gods had woken. Battles had been fought. The arcane was becoming more prevalent everywhere you looked, except where this woman was concerned.

Name Adeline Gagnon, age thirty-nine. Single. Never married. Had two cats—an unfortunate choice since everyone knew dogs were much better. No kids. No living family that they’d found. No car, or debt. From what they could see, this woman woke up, went to work at the sandwich shop where she’d been employed for the last eighteen years, went home. Rinse, repeat.

Nothing about her drew attention, unless her bodacious bod counted. According to her driver’s license record—which Ambrose acquired via the dark web—she stood five foot nine, a hundred and eighty-five pounds. She kept her dark hair in a short bob and wore thick, black-rimmed glasses but eschewed makeup. Not that she needed any. Her clear complexion accentuated her high cheekbones and full lips.

On a whim, Orion pushed up from the park bench they’d commandeered. For cover, they each had a newspaper and a coffee—large Tim Horton’s paper cups that offered “Roll Up the Rim” prizes via an app. An app! Kind of defeated the whole roll-up part. It especially sucked since he lost while Ambrose won a free donut. The man didn’t even like sweets.

Inactivity made Orion restless, hence why he dumped the paper and his cup into the trash and slicked back his hair.

“Where are you going?” Ambrose asked, folding his paper to fix him with a stern eye.

“I am getting myself a sandwich.”

“I thought we were going to watch and not interact.”

“That was your plan, and it’s bor-r-ring,” Orion whined. “Besides, I’m hungry, and it just so happens she makes sandwiches. I would add it’s also probably a good idea to get a peek inside her place of work. Get a good sniff too, you know, in case there’s some funky shit going on out of sight.”

“Please. We both know you’re going in to flirt with her,” Ambrose accused.

“Is it flirting if it’s just my natural outgoing personality?”

The reply had Ambrose rolling his eyes. “Not every woman has to be a conquest.”

“Excuse me, but I do not try and seduce every female I meet.”

“And yet they end up in your bed,” Ambrose’s dry reply.

“Not my fault they find me attractive and drop their panties begging me for some loving.” A bit of an exaggeration. They didn’t beg. They simply threw themselves at him, and he didn’t want to be rude.

“You’re a whore, Orion.” Ambrose shook his head.

“And you’re uptight, old friend. I can’t wait for the day when you meet a woman who manages to loosen you up and leave you spinning.”

“As if I’d ever match with someone chaotic.”

“You know what they say. Opposites attract.”

“Does this mean you’re going to end up with a sweet and sensible girl who isn’t impressed by your charm and expects you to take out the garbage?”

“Perish the thought. I’m never settling down.” Orion declared it, mostly because he’d been saying it for the past century. He wasn’t about to admit that, of late, the freewheeling lifestyle of a bachelor had finally begun to wear on him. Different faces every other night. The same vapid conversations. Pleasure quick and fleeting, forgotten the moment it was done.

He blamed his retrospect on having been in close proximity to a couple newly in love. Seeing how Marissa and Koda eyed each other, the way they’d eagerly rushed off every time they got a chance to be intimate, the secret smiles they shared… It all aroused a feeling in him that he didn’t often feel.

Envy.

Weird. Probably just a passing phase.

“Want anything?” he asked Ambrose as he stood on the curb, waiting for a car to pass.

“Since you insist on going in, then yes. Ham and cheese on rye, light on the mustard—”

“Hold the pickle, no lettuce, but yes to bacon if they have some. I know.” Ambrose never deviated. “You know, you should expand your horizons. Try something new.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“What are you talking about? I’m always up for new experiences,” Orion boasted.

“Says the man who has never had a real girlfriend and cringes at the idea of monogamy.”

“And deprive the world of my skills as a lover? Perish the thought,” Orion declared as he crossed the street.

The sandwich shop sat between an appliance repair store and a tarot reader. The sign above the shop, a simple plank of painted wood, stated, Sandwiches Your Way. It didn’t have any gimmicks or flashy lights. Probably explained the light foot traffic they’d observed this past week. These days people wanted an experience they could post on social media. The lack of business could also be because the food sucked. He’d soon find out.

A bell tinkled as he entered. The scent of cured meat and freshly baked bread filled his nostrils, along with a hint of his target’s lingering perfume—his target, who didn’t stand behind the counter. No one did. Not really a surprise since they never saw any other employees entering the place. Could be they did so via the alley, but the few times Orion posted himself to watch, he’d only ever seen Adeline popping out for a breath of air.

Orion stood before the glass display that held hunks of meat, ready to be sliced. The board on the wall behind listed the day’s special—tuna club on a pretzel roll—along with a list of basic sandwiches. Roast beef, ham, pastrami, meatball. There was also a mix-and-match option where all the types of breads and toppings were listed for someone to build themselves an epic sandwich a la Shaggy and Scooby-Doo.

The beaded curtain leading to the back room rustled as a woman emerged. His target. Adeline Gagnon. She looked even more delicious up close.

Orion beamed her with his gazillion-watt, panty-dropping smile. “Well, hello there.”

She remained smooth-featured and said, “How can I help you, sir?”

Sir. Ack. He almost grimaced. “Looking for two sandwiches. A boring ham and cheese on rye for my friend, no lettuce or pickle, easy on the mustard, with bacon, please.”

She immediately began pulling out a fresh loaf of rye and sliced it. As she piled on the fixings, she asked, “And for you, sir?”

“What do you suggest, sweetheart?”

Despite the flirty term, she didn’t look up or even blush. Most likely she had strange men complimenting her day in and out. But still, Orion wasn’t used to women ignoring him.

“Our special of the day is a good choice.”

His lips twisted. “I’ll be honest, I’m more of a beef than fish kind of guy.”

“Then might I suggest the roast beef au jus, on a fresh baguette, topped with sauteed mushrooms, provolone cheese, and a hint of horseradish.”

“That sounds delicious.”

She finished wrapping the first sandwich and began work on his, not once looking at him or engaging. Probably shy.

“So what’s your favorite sandwich?” he asked.

“I don’t eat bread,” she remarked. “Or meat for that matter.”

He blinked in surprise. “But you work in a deli shop.”

“I do.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer to work somewhere you don’t have to deal with stuff you don’t like?”

She cast him a brief glance. “I don’t like a lot of things. Not a reason to steer clear of them. Besides, this way it’s easier to avoid temptation. I worked in an ice cream shop before this. Not a good idea since I’ve a weakness for cookie dough chocolate chip.”

Aha, she had a sweet tooth.

Before he could draw out some more info, she presented him with the sandwiches. “That will be forty-two seventy-one.”

His jaw almost dropped. “For two sandwiches?”

“Two very good sandwiches,” she firmly stated.

He had the cash, but still… The pricing explained the lack of customers. He counted out forty-three dollars and handed it over. She offered him the change, which he dumped into the tip jar and added another five. Forty-eight bucks for two sandwiches. They’d better be the best he’d ever eaten.

Orion snared the paper bag she’d put them in, and before he could say another word, she disappeared into the back.

Not very social. He returned to Ambrose with the food, a bemused expression leading his friend to say, “What happened?”

“I just got fleeced. Do you know how much I paid for these?” He shook the bag. Although, one bite later, he did have to admit it was the best damned sandwich he’d ever eaten.

Pity hardly anyone entered the shop to find out. Some went in and quickly left empty-handed. A few went inside and stayed in there so long he had to wonder what was going on. The window had a glare that didn’t let him see in. Those men—and only men, he noticed—eventually exited with a bag that he assumed held a sandwich.

The shop closed at six, and they trailed Adeline home. She carried only her purse and never once looked back.

Never saw the wererat trailing her.

But the hounds did.

Orion almost sighed with relief. At last, their boring job was about to get interesting.

Chapter 2

Adeline entered her basement apartment and kicked off her shoes with a sigh. Nothing like being barefoot after a day’s work.

“Hey, Smudge and Fudge.” She greeted her cats lying on the slim ledge of the basement window. The pair stretched, and each opened an eye to peek at her then promptly went back to sleep.

Par for the course. At times she wondered why she fed them. A male and female Siamese with vivid blue eyes she’d found in the alley behind the shop wearing matching collars. She’d tried to drop them off at the local animal shelter, only they were full. Adeline had no choice but to take them home, however, she did her due diligence and put-up flyers. No one ever replied. She wasn’t exactly upset given she found herself loving the cute pair. Next thing she knew, she’d bought all the supplies needed; bed, cat tower and toys, fancy food—only to have them eschew everything feline. They preferred fresh fish, never played with toys—unless the occasional rodent or large spider counted—and slept either in the window or on her pillow, usually after nudging her from it.

At times she wondered why they stayed, seeing how they barely paid her any mind. That didn’t stop her from trying to earn their affection.

She padded over to her tiny kitchenette with its bar-sized fridge. The fresh can of tuna she pulled from the cupboard brought them trotting, and Smudge even rubbed against her leg for a quick second before she shoved her face into the bowl to chomp. Adeline chose to have salad with lentils for dinner and peaches with cream for dessert.

After she did her few dishes, she turned on the television and half-watched it while sweeping up cat hair. So much hair.

With her small place clean, she sat on her pull-out couch, which doubled as her bed, and sighed. Busy day today. The shop’s high prices hadn’t deterred a few clients, and so she’d actually had to make sandwiches. Ugh. Not her favorite thing, to be honest. She’d not lied when she told that one client, the good-looking blond, that she didn’t do bread or meat.

Vegetarian all the way. Cheese and eggs were her only animal products, and they were ethically sourced, imported from a farm in Nexus. Annie, the owner, delivered monthly.

At ten, Adeline pulled out her bed from the couch and slept for a few hours until a low growl woke her.

“What is it, kitties?” she murmured, rolling onto her back.

Rowr. One of her cats didn’t sound happy. Understandable, given she blinked sleep from her eyes to see the ungodly time of two fifty-three a.m.

Sigh. And she had to be up by five.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed as her cats continued to make noise. “I know. I know. Someone’s at the door. Give me a second.” She reached under the bed and pulled out the taser, freshly charged since the last incident. In her other hand, she held a baseball bat. Good for whacking and less messy than a knife.

Armed, she then planted herself in front of the door and waited.

The knob turned, left, then right, squeaking on purpose. She didn’t oil it because she wanted to hear when someone tried to break in on the off-chance one day her kitties decided to not warn her. Who knew cats would make such good guards?

She didn’t turn on a light. She knew from experience it wouldn’t deter. She waited.

Click.

Her locks never seemed to foil those picking them. And she’d tried. Mega deadbolts. Electronic ones. Specialized custom keys. Even the magically hexed versions failed. It became easier to just let them come in.

The door opened, and there it stood, about four feet tall, its nose pink, like the tip of its tail, with red eyes and whiskers.

A wererat. Not her first.

It hissed and showed yellowed teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re vicious,” she grumbled. “Let’s get this over with.”

Before she could dart in and zap it with the taser, a low growl—not of the feline variety—preceded a large dog pouncing the wererat from behind. The first creature uttered a piercing noise of rage as it hit the floor, buried under a massive, black-furred hound. The two began to tussle, with the wererat managing to scramble free. The dog advanced on it, drawing it deeper into the tiny apartment. Not good. While she didn’t own much of worth, she’d scrimped for the television and would hate to have to replace it.

The cats jumped to the windowsill and watched with flicking tails as the dog feinted toward the wererat, which swiped with its clawed paw. The big furball lunged and took the wererat to the floor. A chomp to the neck and a crunch of bone led to the wererat going limp.

One down.

The winner looked at Adeline, its eyes unnaturally bright. This was no ordinary dog. Just freaking lovely.

Her cats uttered a low warning growl. Another threat according to them, despite the fact it took out the monster. All she needed to know. Adeline darted forward, taser in hand, and zapped it.

The dog gave her a look of betrayal as its body jiggled. But it didn’t fall over, so she swung the bat and connected.

Whack.

The big canine slumped to the floor atop the wererat.

Leaning against her bat, she sighed. Two bodies to get rid of. So much for getting any more sleep tonight.

Before she could grab a rope for hauling, a throat cleared itself in her doorway.

“Sorry to bother, but did you just kill Orion?”

She glanced to see a beautiful man standing there. Ebony-skinned but with light eyes, dressed in loose khakis and a long-sleeve Henley.

“Orion?” She glanced down. “I assume you mean the dog?” Because she couldn’t imagine anyone keeping the wererat as a pet. “He’s not dead. Just sleeping very soundly.” And would have slept forever if she’d dumped him under a nearby bridge. The troll under there appreciated the fresh meat and got rid of the evidence. She’d long ago learned the Cryptid Authority was more headache than help when it came to these kinds of random attacks.

“I told him to not rush in,” the beautiful man said with a sigh and shake of his head.

“In your dog’s defense, he thought I was in danger. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t sure if he’d attack me next.”

The reply led to the man eyeing her taser and bat before giving her a faint smile. “It would seem you had things well in hand. Do attacks of this type happen often?”

Given she didn’t know him and, again, didn’t want to deal with authorities, she shook her head. “Guess the rat smelled my dinner and wanted to come in for a bite.”

The man glanced at her tiny kitchen area with a frown. “I doubt it came for the salad.”

How had he known? She pursed her lips. “I think you should take your dog and leave.”

“I’m sorry. This must be rather disturbing. Here I am, a strange fellow on your doorstep in the middle of the night. I’m Ambrose.” He held out his hand as if he expected her to shake it.

She raised her taser and said, “I’m tired and would like to go back to bed.”

“Of course. If you’ll give me a moment to gather my friend.” She took a step back as he entered her place, but rather than approach her, he knelt by the big dog and muttered, “Idiot.” He scooped the beast with little effort but then eyed the wererat still lying there.

“If you give me a moment, I’ll remove this for you as well.”

“No need. I can handle it.”

“I’m sure you can,” he murmured. “But allow me.”

The man dumped the dog in the tiny outdoor landing and immediately returned to grab the wererat, slinging it over a shoulder. He stared at her, rather intently, before saying, “Sorry to have disturbed you. Be sure to lock up.” He then closed the door. She remained staring at it for a moment before engaging the locks.

What a weird night. And forget sleep.

The coffee went on early, and despite her vow to reduce her sugar intake, she made herself a batch of whipped cream to go with her strawberries for breakfast.

In retrospect, it occurred to her to wonder if the man would turn her into the authorities for harming the wererat—not that much would happen. They were considered pests, with very little cognitive thought in their tiny brains, and the minute one attacked they became fair game. That said, the paperwork could be copious, and she had better things to do.

Of interest? How the beautiful man didn’t seem shocked by her actions. Even volunteered to help. He must have been walking his dog when it smelled the rat and instinct kicked in. Although who the heck walked their pet at such an ungodly hour?

Not her problem. At least he’d been polite and saved her from lugging the wererat in her large duffel that she kept for such occasions. Third home invasion this month and seventh this year.

As to why it kept happening? She hadn’t the slightest clue, but it might be time to move to a more secure building—if she could afford it.

Rental prices had been skyrocketing since Covid and her current place wasn’t too bad. The landlord liked her and the fact she always paid on time and that she didn’t cause trouble. Moving would mean cutting back on her reading and the fund she’d been growing so she could go on a cruise.

She eyed Fudge and Smudge napping once more. “I’m going to shower. Keep an eye on the place, would you?”

Neither moved, but their tails swished. She’d bring them home something fresh for dinner; they’d earned it. Maybe she’d pick up a bone too, just in case she ran into the beautiful man and his dog again.

Then again, it might be best if they never crossed paths because Adeline tended to be bad luck to those around her. And it would be a shame if he accidentally died.

COLLAPSE
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