36. Comeuppance
36
COMEUPPANCE
JADE
A fter my shower, Arran and I discover Maxum pacing in the bedroom.
My handsome demon watches silently while I get dressed in leggings and a long sweater. He’s uneasy.
I pull on an expensive pair of new boots that I definitely didn’t buy, so they must be something Maxum purchased before we fled the lake house. “Thank you for grabbing some clothes for me.”
Maxum grunts, obviously distracted.
“What’s up?” I ask, stepping closer to grab his attention.
“I had time to think while being on watch.” He pauses his pacing to hover over me like the towering possessive male he is. “I don’t like that Rob found you so quickly. I’m worried about Galiana tracking you down. She will try to use you. Or if you no longer serve her plans, kill you. She’s far more powerful than he was, and she has stolen cubi power, too. Maybe most of her witches don’t know what exactly she’s doing, but they are willing to die for the anti-supernatural cause.”
I rest my hands on his forearms and stare into his obsidian eyes. They flame with anger, and for the first time since I’ve known him, I see genuine fear behind them.
Fear for me.
“After eight hundred years of being alive, you should know that worrying doesn’t help,” I tell him.
“This is the first time I actually give a fuck about what happens in my life. If we lose you…” He swallows down his strangled voice and can’t continue.
“Maybe we should go on the offensive and hunt her,” I suggest.
“No,” Maxum and Arran growl in unison.
Dang, why do I love a protective male so much? Maybe because I don’t want to be the only one fighting for my survival. It’s the first time someone has cared like this in my life’s history. Not even a few months ago, I would have scoffed at the idea of trusting someone enough to help me, but these guys have convinced me that sometimes we can have faith in someone other than ourselves. I not only have one guy to lean on after all the years of pain and loneliness, but five. Maybe because of this, I feel invincible. I want to end this shit so I can be happy with them.
“As smokin’ hot as that growly moment was, I still think we should consider taking action and gain the upper hand instead of being at her mercy.”
“Okay,” Calder’s voice chimes from the doorway, with Osen and Flint standing right behind him. “But hypothetically, how do we entrap her? Because we need a plan, not a prayer. Look at what happened to Osen because he went full gangbusters without thinking it through.”
“Hey!” Osen protests, then frowns, rubbing his mouth. “Alright, fine. I deserved that.”
After a brainstorming session, we pack up our things and leave via a demon portal. We travel through a few places before we end up near the edge of a quaint New England town. I can see the State Park not far in the distance. When we scoped it out earlier, we found it empty of tourists, a blessing if our crazy plan works.
“We stick together,” Maxum orders, leveling his gaze at me.
“What?” I grumble. “When have I wandered off?” I rub his huge arm. “I’m going to stay real close to my big, meanie demon so he can keep me safe.”
He growls and yanks me to his side protectively. “Fucking right you are, sweet monster.”
I chuckle, but nod. “I’m not dumb. All this kicking ass stuff is way above my pay grade.”
“That isn’t necessarily true. You’re powerful,” Osen argues. “But as Calder pointed out, there’s safety in numbers. And it’s likely the witches will have them on their side.”
In their glamour to make them look like your run-of-the-mill insanely hot guys, they crowd around me like fierce bodyguards. We get a few strange looks from people, likely wondering if I’m some celebrity with my entourage of supermodel bodyguards.
Alas, I’m only known in the spicy romance world, and apparently now I’m making a splash in witchy society, too. Yay, me .
We make our way through the streets, hoping to attract the attention of any local or tourist witches. Do witches go on road trips? Witch retreats? Do they have coven support group meetings with donuts and old coffee? Do they gather around the water cauldron and exchange gossip? Whispering, “Did you see Martha try to substitute the eye of newt for gecko? Goddess bless her heart.”
Okay, plot bunnies are now officially loose. I want to write an office witch romance. Should it be enemies to lovers or billionaire boss? Both?
I need to refocus…
Maxum tells us there are rumors that indicate there are a few witches and warlocks from the ASO living in this area.
When our parading doesn’t seem to get a reaction, we move to Plan B.
Without my containment necklace, I can’t risk handling my computer. So the task lands on Arran’s shoulders since his magic rarely affects electronics, and he has some familiarity with them.
Besides, he’s familiar with my actual computer—the sneaky spy. I idly wonder if he did a deep dive into my search history. Geeze, I hope not. A smut author’s browsing history is not for the faint of heart. Graphic sexual images, weapons, poisons, bondage, torture, how to kill someone with almost anything I can think of, and ways to dispose of a body are only a few of the nefarious topics. It suggests the makings of a very bad person.
At the park, I talk him through setting up my travel router and logging onto my computer.
All my guys are standing in a circle facing outward to keep watch for an attack.
Fortunately, we’ve already set up this place with magical booby-traps and other surprises.
With my enhanced vision, it isn’t too hard to see over his shoulder from a few yards away. “Check my email. Rob sent me a message. When I opened it, not long after, he showed up.”
Arran snarls when he opens and reads the email. “What? You never belonged to him! I wish that bastard wasn’t dead, just so I could kill him all over again.”
“Samsies, babe, samsies,” I quip. “Any other emails?”
“Uh, nothing that looks odd.”
My computer chimes with a notification from my social media account.
“Click on the messenger icon. And tell me who just messaged me.”
“I see a bunch of unread messages from what looks like a few other authors,” he answers. “And just now, it’s someone named Minerva Marvin. It’s a request to video chat.”
“Odd. We’ve never done that before.” I pace behind Arran, wondering what this means. “Decline the invite.”
“She’s asking what’s wrong… why she hasn’t seen you online. She’s worried.”
“Reply to her via text,” I dictate to him.
Jade: A lot has been going on lately. Turns out my ex is a psycho.
Minerva: Are you safe?
Jade: Yeah. Just had to leave town.
Minerva: Where are you?
Warning flags are flapping wildly in my mind. But we are fishing to see if we can catch a witch. Maybe Minerva is one, or maybe she’s just an innocent, yet naughty, paranormal author.
Telling her where I am is a test and a trap.
Jade: I’m in a little town on the East Coast.
Minerva: Oh, I know.
Suddenly, we’re surrounded by witches and warlocks. None of us move, everyone waiting for the other to throw the first magical strike.
A pretty witch saunters forward a few steps, and an alluring energy floats off her and curls around us. I almost snarl. It feels like she’s trying to sway my guys to her will.
“Hello, Jade.”
“That’s the fucking witch that tortured me!” Calder cries out.
Flint holds him by the arm, keeping the violence at bay. For another few moments at least.
My blood electrifies with his claim. I’ll kill her for what she’s done, but first, I want answers of my own.
“Minerva?” I ask. I’ve only ever seen her author logo online, but never her face. Many spicy romance authors don’t show their faces, so I had no reason to think there was something odd.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“I don’t understand… we’ve known each other for years.”
“We have, because I was the one who discovered you.” She smirks and cocks her hip out. Another wave of magic swirls out. She’s pure sex embodied, and she hoping to attract my mates’ attention and enchant them.
“How did you discover me?” I demand.
“You’re such an ignorant bitch. Your mother did you no favors, leaving you in the dark. How fortunate for us.” Minerva shakes her head with a self-righteous sneer. “It was your books, dumb dumb. You wrote about things that were too accurate. About actual events. When we hunted down the author, we found you, a witch who had no idea that she was channeling the dead. Not just any dead though… supernaturals. With details that no one else should know about our crimes.”
I think back and realize Minerva had reached out to me as a fellow author just a week before Rob showed up in my life.
“So you sent Rob and the hamster to spy and manipulate me,” I surmise.
“It was going so well for our cause until you got rowdy and took up with this lot.” Her gaze slithers all over my guys, appraising them. “But I have to say, for supes, they are pretty hot. I can’t exactly fault an ignorant lust witch from sampling these tasty snacks. I’m sure they fuck like monsters, too.” She eyes Arran like she’s tempted. “Especially this one. My coven gave him exactly what he deserved with the curse, but I’d love to tie him down and unleash the berserker.” Then she spots Calder and licks her lips. “And how could I forget how easily I fractured this tasty morsel?”
Anger flares inside me. How dare she minimize what I have with them and what she put Arran and Calder through? “They aren’t fucking snacks, you piece of shit.”
“My my. Someone is feeling protective over their lust meals.” Minerva doesn’t seem to sense my bonds, or she dismisses them as nothing. She takes another step closer.
I feel her power wash over me, but I suspect my lust witch blood allows me to resist her.
Her voice turns steely and cold. “Galiana is waiting for you. Let’s not keep her waiting any longer, shall we?”
She lifts her hand, and her people rush forward to capture us.
Electricity cracks in my hands, but I hide the magic since I don’t want to use it while my enemies are watching. These witches don’t seem to know about my unique heritage and powers. Maxum has warned me that the more others know, the more dangerous it is for me.
My guys surround me, fighting in a protective circle.
I watch helplessly as our magical booby-traps are destroyed by a few witches.
Osen’s shadows shoot out and knock people to the ground several feet away. I know from my visions of his ability that he’s not even close to recovering his full power.
Calder is throwing balls of fire with his flaming hands, but his attacks bounce off some sort of witch-shields.
In full gargoyle form, Flint’s huge wings are taking an onslaught of magical blasts to protect me. Through our bond, I sense he’s weakening.
Arran slices his massive claws at our attackers, dodging and weaving. But he takes more hits than he dishes out.
Maxum takes a bastard down with his mind magic. The warlock drops dead, crumpling at our feet after his brain turns to mush.
There are far more people on their side than ours, and I’m afraid we might not win if I don’t join in the fray.
Dare I expose my electric mage ability?
Calder transforms into his full phoenix form and circles around us, keeping the witches at bay as best he can. He dives low to burn them with his fire, but most of his prey have strong magical shields protecting them.
A blast of magic hits him dead on, and he screeches with rage. He’s blocking our mate bond connection to protect me, so I can only hope it’s that he’s pissed and not hurt, but his movements aren’t as smooth as before.
I’m at a loss for what to do to help. My witch powers are passive and seem to be a low-level lust power and mediumship. Not helpful in my current situation. Unless I can somehow seduce ghosts into attacking our enemies. Which doesn’t seem very practical, even if I could even accomplish the feat.
For now, I’m crouched low to the ground like a coward or damsel in distress. I don’t like either label. Maxum’s warning echoes in my mind that I can’t let anyone know what I can do. Only as a last resort. Yanking souls from bodies with this many witnesses who could escape isn’t advisable either.
The ground vibrates under my feet, and I hear a chant droning from a group of witches not actively engaged in the battle.
I quickly glance at Arran and Flint, but I don’t see them noticing it. Though I’m uncertain, since my eyeballs are rattling in my head.
“Fuck!” Maxum shouts.
Spinning to see what’s happened, he stares at the ground below his feet that’s shuddering. “ Nooooooo! ” He turns to see that I’m also affected.
He dives for me. As his body collides with mine, I feel the ground below us give way. Our drop ends quickly, and his huge body crushes me as we land.
The wind is knocked out of me. I suck in a breath before I can crack my eyes open. When I do, I see we’re in a large, dark, concrete room with no windows. It appears to be empty. No people, no furniture, nothing.
Maxum pushes off me and curses a string of expletives that must come from the bowels of hell and fills me with dread. He slams his body against an invisible wall.
I glance down to understand where the little light in the room is coming from and find there’s a glowing red circle with sigils surrounding us. I smell blood in the stale air.
“What is this?” I ask, but in my heart, I already know.
Maxum throws his body repeatedly against the invisible barrier that lines up with the outer circle, ignoring me completely.
“Maxum!” I cry, to get him to stop. I can tell he’s only hurting himself, not making progress. “What is this?”
“A demon trap!” he snarls and slices at the air again, but his claws skid along the trap’s boundary.
“Where are we?” My heart crumbles as I worry about my other mates. “What about the guys? We need to get back to them!”
He spins, eyes wide and feral, and I shiver with his madness. “Do you still feel your bonds?”
My attention drops into my heart, and I can sense the tethers linking my soul to theirs. “Yeah.”
“Then they’re alive for now.” Pointing at the place he was attempting to break through, he then demands, “See if this trap holds you!”
I scramble to my feet. No one is down here, and if this trap doesn’t hold me, then I can help us escape. I rush to the edge and smash against what feels like an electric fence. With a yelp, I’m thrown backward and crash into Maxum.
“Dammit!” He catches me as I fall and holds me while my dazed wits come back online. My vision is spinning, and I wonder how he could have bashed against the barrier like he did.
As he presses me close to his massive body, I realize we are both completely naked. “Where the fuck did our clothes go?”
“Part of the demon summoning process. It strips a demon of all possessions, so the summoner is protected from retribution.” He snarls, “I’m going to retribute their ass.”
“But how did they do it?” I shake my head. “Why didn’t they do this before?”
Maxum slowly calms his breathing, and some sanity returns to his gaze. He considers my question. “There are only two ways to summon a demon like this. One is to know a demon’s true name. Only a few of my family know my secret and it’s solely in case of emergencies. Two is to have the demon’s blood and a line of sight to cast the ritual. The second option is dangerous for the summoner, since a demon could catch and kill them before it’s done.”
“I heard witches chanting… that must have been it.”
“And they must have found our blood at one of the battles we fought,” he grumbles.
“But why target both of us?”
“I assume she was targeting me, and you were just pulled along for the ride. They were likely worried if they captured you that I might track you through our matebond.”
“But we haven’t mate bonded yet.”
“They don’t know that. And they wouldn’t believe a demon would have waited this long to claim you.”
“Uh, Maxum?” I hesitate because it feels wrong to confront him now, but I don’t know if I’ll ever get an answer. Things aren’t looking good for our longevity. “Why haven’t you bonded with me? If you don’t want to, I’ll try to understand, but I feel like I did something to upset you.”
“What? No.” He clasps my face to make me look into his flaming obsidian eyes. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”
“Tell me what it is, then. This might be our last chance to clear the air.”
He sags to the hard floor and sits cross-legged. Then he invites me to sit, cradled in his embrace. I’d rather have his body as a seat than the cold concrete, so I slip down into his arms and find comfort in his warmth, sitting sideways so I can look up into his beautiful crimson face.
“I’m afraid for you.”
“Because of rutting me? I don’t believe you’d fuck me enough to kill me.”
Maxum studies my face for a long time, deciding what he should confess. Then, with a sigh, he begins. “No. It’s about the demon lords. There are so few females. If I mate you, the lords in hell might be alerted to your demon nature. If they come for you, they will kill our pack, use you for power plays, and attempt to breed you.”
“Well, shit,” I whisper. “Force me to make babies?”
“They’d likely first try to make you amenable to the process, so you weren’t overly stressed and unable to impregnate. High-powered demons might try to stake a claim, or they might share you until someone’s seed took hold.”
“But you’re so loving with me. How could they…”
“Most demons aren’t as empathetic as I am. I think the decline in female numbers has made the males even more aggressive. Historically, demons often shared a female mate. But the problem has only gotten worse. And it’s difficult to find a female outside of our realm who can procreate with us. They are valuable, but a commodity, a possession. It’s likely the main reason your mother kept you and herself a secret. If either of you had been discovered, it could have meant you would’ve been taken to the demon realm until you were of age to take mates.”
“Shit on a hellstick,” I mutter, barely able to process what he just said. “So, when you found out about my demon blood, you felt you had to pull back in case they found me because of our mating.”
“I couldn’t be the reason they found you. I’m not… popular in the demon realm,” Maxum admits with a heavy breath. “Most of them would have no problem killing me and taking you. Mate matches are so rare that most demons don’t even believe in them. They wouldn’t respect what we have. They wouldn’t understand, or care, that you’d be devastated by losing your bonded mate matches.”
“Not that it matters what demons might do to you,” a cold, threatening voice of a woman cuts through our conversation and echoes around the large, chilly space. “Your fate is mine to deliver.”