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Hell is a Harem: Book 1 (Lick of Fire) by Kim Faulks (1)

Chapter One

“You know. You’ve got to have the foulest mouth I’ve ever heard on anyone. It’s like…like a sawed-off shotgun that sprays obscenities.”

The demon moved when he spoke…and it wasn’t just a step here, and a step there, but full fucking strides across the width of the salt circle.

My salt circle.

“Eat a dick,” I snarled, and fumbled with the pellets. “Now hold the fuck still.”

“I saw this, you know…saw it all,” he threw his hands in the air, gesturing wildly as he walked and talked, and then stopped dead.

Harsh yellow lights shone against his bald head as he turned and looked me straight in the eyes. “And I saw you, just as I see you now.”

Pellets slipped into place, and I yanked the stock, snapping it in place. “You saw me, did you? I wonder if you saw this, as well?” I raised the muzzle and shoved the butt hard against my shoulder.

Infernal yellow eyes glinted with malice. He took a step, moving closer to the inner side, and lifted his hand to tap the middle of his forehead. “I saw it all. You’ll shoot me...send me back home. It’s okay, I know I deserve it…I’ve been a real bad boy.”

His lips curled, revealing a row of razor-sharp white teeth. I turned my head, taking in the massacre. Arms and legs littered the room…torsos were missing on all four bodies.

My stomach tightened. Acid crept into the back of my throat. I tried to keep the revulsion at bay. But their glowing smiles haunted me from the row of pictures on the wall. They looked nice…normal, even if they played house with this…demon. “You ate your hosts.”

“They deserved it,” the beast hissed, “Putting their feet on the sofa…mixing salad forks with the rest of the cutlery. Always nag…nag…nag. They were pigs, there’s no way around it. I grew tired of our little venture. But Sigil showed me the way. Showed me everything.” His gaze drifted to the massacre and then lifted his finger to tap the space between his brows. “And it was glorious.”

Rage rose like an inferno, burning through my will not to lash this bastard to the ground with a web of dark magic and inflict a little torture of my own. But I wasn’t here for that. I was a capture-and-send back-to-Hell kinda girl.

His toes danced at the edge of the salt. It had to have hurt like a bitch, still he smiled that cold, dead smile. “He’s going to be so proud of you.”

The flinch was a cramp in my heart. I took aim as the sonofabitch smiled, and pulled the trigger.

The spray hit him dead center and spread out. His head snapped backwards, steps a flurry of movement.

Smoke drifted from the pellet holes in his chest, and with it came the foul stink of dead flesh. His lips curled, the shit-eating grin seemed to stretch for miles before his knees buckled and he dropped to the floor.

It was too fast, too easy.

Too goddamn neat.

He’s going to be so proud of you? The words rebounded as I took a step. The faint sound of a siren echoed in the distance as the first flame erupted.

Who the hell was he?

Fear replaced excitement, widening those black orbs until I saw the reflection of Hell in his eyes. He spun, thrashed, and beat at the flames.

They all fight at the end. I gripped the shotgun with one hand and lifted the other, twinkling my fingers. “Bye bye.”

Black flames replaced crimson, swallowing the demon with one sudden whoosh, and burned the bastard all the way to the floor, leaving nothing more than a small pile of ash behind.

I raised my head and sniffed the air. The bitter stench of sulphur lingered. That telltale sign was what I needed before I turned from the circle and looked at the damn mess.

“Jesus…what a damn mess.”

Arms and legs littered the floor, so from a distance it was hard to tell which was which. I stepped over thick fleshy limbs, gravitating to the long red nails. Four people…reduced to this.

I knelt and reached out, giving the forearm one hard shove. The limb rolled upwards, and then back into position, with the palm facing the ceiling.

I lifted my head as sirens drew closer and leaned forward, curling the index and ring finger, followed by the pinky, leaving the middle straight and true.

The effect was timeless…just a little memento to the assholes in blue.

Still, the bloodbath wasn’t lost on me…I winced and shoved up from the floor. Demons were sadistic sonsofbitches, and I’d known a few who’d kill.

But this was something else entirely.

Sigil showed me the way. Showed me everything. And it was glorious.

I turned from the blood splatter on the walls and walked deeper into the house. Sigil showed me the way…what the fuck did that even mean? I looked for signs of a witch; markings on the wall, gris-gris, or bottles of spells and castings.

But there were none…and that spidey sense inside was dead as the demon I just sent to Hell.

I took a step as red and blue faded lights splashed against the wall, and felt something slip under my boot.

The shine caught my eye. I bent and snatched the plastic from the floor. It was a baggy, tiny, snapped-lock along the top, but inside was where the magic lay.

The dissolvable square tab glistened as I tilted the package toward the light and caught the swirl. Car doors echoed with a thud through the night as I stared. It was a diamond, standing on end, and in the middle was the almond shape of an eye…a third eye…

The gun-fire bark of a two-way spilled through the doorway and filtered down the hall.

I slipped the drug into my pocket, bent, and lowered the shotgun to the floor as the first officer rushed in, gun drawn, muzzle sweeping the room before he took in the bloodbath.

“‘Bout damn time you guys decided to turn up,” I growled as Sergeant Mc Fucking Douchebag himself stepped through the doorway. “Thought I was gonna have to make my own damn coffee.”

The young constable paled at the sight of the arms and legs.

“Yeah, no torsos…” I motioned toward the salt circle and the pile of ash. “Demon had one hell of an appetite.”

The constable swallowed, and then swallowed again. Throat muscles worked overtime as he lowered his gun and retched.

“Don’t lower your gun! She could be the damn assailant for all we know!”

“Jeffries,” I sighed, shook my head, and opened my hands. “Are we really going to do this again?”

Sergeant Alexander Jeffries took a step toward me and curled his top lip. “This is a one-eighty-seven in progress and you are a person of interest.”

I raised my head, meeting his hateful stare head-on. “In about a hundred damn cases, according to you. When are you going to play by the rules? Any paranormal offense is called into The Circle first. We deal with the bad guys, so you humans can sweep in and take all the credit—remember?”

“We humans?” Jeffries snarled. “Nice to see you’re finally aligning yourself with the freaks, Payne.”

Freaks? The bastard was trying to get under my skin. I swallowed the words on the tip of my tongue and straightened my shoulders.

The act said more than I ever could. Go your hardest, smug piece of shit. Jeffries straightened, and then reached for the handcuffs as the thunder of boots consumed the room.

“Jeffries!” A male called out.

“Here!” He barked, glanced over his shoulder at the uniform and jerked his head toward the heaving Constable. “Take Smith and search the rest of the damn house, while I cuff this bitch.”

His grip was cruel, crushing my hand as he snapped one cuff around my wrist and then spun me around for the other.

I made no move to fight, only watched as young and stupid invaded the room and trampled the salt circle.

After all these years, you’d think they’d try to protect themselves from beings like me.

“Kitchen clear!” one officer yelled.

“Right rear bedroom clear!”

Jeffries glanced around the room, lingering on the small pile of black ash, before he turned and met my gaze. “Why the fuck are you staring at me like that?”

“Hoping you’ll spontaneously combust,” I muttered under my breath.

“Oh, for fuck's sake…really? Really, Lorn?”

I couldn’t stop the slight rise in my chest as Inspector Titus Banks stopped at the hand. He yanked his gaze from the upright middle finger to me. “I’m assuming this was you…it’s got your style all over it.”

I gave a shrug and tried to keep my eyes off the swell of his chest, or his muscled forearms, or his ice-blue eyes…or the nice bulge of his trousers between his thighs…

“Lorn?”

I flinched and yanked my gaze from his zipper. One brow climbed as he waited. He saw me staring…shit. “What can I say? Took your sweet-ass time getting here, it’s your own fault, really.”

He shook his head, but there was a slight curl of his lips for a second before it was gone. Titus stepped among the splayed limbs to stop in front of me.

He took one glance at my hands behind my back and commanded. “Un-cuff her, Jeffries.”

The Sergeant never moved, clenching his jaw until the muscles flexed.

“Now.”

Hate flared in the Sergeant's dark eyes. He leaned forward as I brought my hand around to the front, holding his cuffs in one hand, and smiled.

I wanted to say something pithy, but all I could do was stare at Banks as he waited. He looked tired, darkened circles under his eyes and the first faint markings of gray hair.

His shirt was rumpled—a little too rumpled—which was out of character, especially for him. I tried to remember the last time I’d seen Mr. Perfectly Groomed and Immaculate…three months, maybe more…but even then, he’d looked frazzled.

I dropped my gaze to his hand, and then to the white indent on his finger. No ring. My heart gave a twitch. I yanked my gaze high, really seeing him now, seeing his haunted gaze…tasting his desperation, touching his soul.

His eyes widened, a pulse throbbed on the side of his neck. I opened myself up to that power…to that witch inside me, and crawled inside his mind…

Titus running along the middle of a darkened street…heavy footsteps jarring my feet…thud…thud…thud. The front of his shirt was covered in blood…a knife clutched in his hand.

And a ring, a plain gold wedding band, falling from the darkness…falling…falling….falling…

“Inspector, you'll want to see this.”

I jerked at the intrusion and yanked from his mind, still, Titus never moved. Perfect blue eyes turned arctic as a blush settled on his cheeks. I shouldn’t have done that...shouldn’t have invaded his privacy like that.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured.

His lip curled as he took a step toward me. It was as close to anger as I’d ever seen him…as close to desperation as I’d felt from a human in a very long time.

He lashed out, grasping my arm, but there was no pain, only desperation.

“Inspector…”

“I’m coming,” Titus answered, and dropped his hold. “Jeffries, bring Ms. Payne to the station, un-cuffed this time.”

I shook my head. “You can’t. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Jeffries moved fast, skimming his hands across my arms, my pockets, and the waistband of my jeans as Titus turned and walked away.

The Inspector had always been kind and fair, supplying me with coffee…and food during interviews, and fighting charges when they were clearly bogus. But whatever we had was now changed—and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to take it back.

Jeffries was careful not to touch skin…this time.

I was told it took him a month to recover from the last time he decided to get handsy.

A month of nightmares.

A month of the dark whispering things that’d turn a saint into a sinner.

A month of sleeping with the lights on, and always wondering how someone like me could have so much power.

I leaned forward as he delved into my pockets and watched him wrench his hand away. The bitter tang of fear filled the air. Jeffries was a simple-minded coward, no two ways about it—he lifted a hand and stared at the plastic baggie between his fingers—but even cowards could be dangerous.

“What do we have here?” he murmured and stared at the glistening square inside.

“It’s nothing…just something I’m taking for my—”

“Stutch!” he roared. “This look like one of those we confiscated last week?”

One of the other officers headed our way, trembling and white as a sheet. Jeffries lifted the baggie higher and waited for a response.

But the Senior Constable didn’t answer. One look at his face and I knew why.

“Well?” Jeffries dragged his gaze from the drug in his hand to find Stutch’s gaze. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

“Let me guess,” I answered. “You found the remains.”

One nod was all I needed. “It’d been…processed.”

I flinched…processed…nice word for what came out of the demon. I could only imagine—no, wait—I didn’t want to fucking imagine.

“Yeah,” the Senior Constable stared at the drug as Jeffries turned it this way and that under the light. “That’s it.”

“So,” Jeffries glanced at the woman’s hand and the one-fingered salute. “Tampering with a crime scene and stealing…now, that holds up in my book.”

I clenched my jaw and stared at the plastic bag between his fingers. He fisted my shirt and shoved. “Now, move.”

I stumbled past the limbs and took one look at my trampled salt circle. “Wait…the demon.”

“We know what to do. A blowing wind or a running river,” Jeffries snarled and shoved. “You’re not the only one who can deal with those freaks.”

And there was that word again, pissing me off. I stumbled, finding my balance as I left the Maddison Court address behind.

Red and blue strobed in the dead of night. I blinked into the glare and stumbled along the pavement. Perfect tiny pink tea roses bloomed along the walkway. I glanced over my shoulder to the quaint townhouse and shook my head.

Something had gone very wrong in that house, and I wasn’t talking about the severed limbs or the mountain of demon dung left to rot and stink. I was talking about the reasons why.

Sigil showed me the way. Showed me everything. And it was glorious.

The rear door of the police door opened, Jeffries waited as I climbed inside before he slammed the door.

Red and blue, that’s all I saw…but it wasn’t all I felt.

Harbor was changing, growing…morphing into something more than a place of safety for Supes and witches like me. Voices filtered in from outside. Jeffries stood, chatting, taking his sweet-ass time. One glance my way and I realized it was for my benefit. The bastard was trying to push all my buttons.

And any other night, I’d rise to the bait—but not tonight.

Perfect pink roses turned purple under the blue glow. Last week was a riot of witches. Right winged called out the left…and the show-down was catastrophic.

Five buildings had been leveled, and two city blocks were destroyed. And all this had played out in front of humans for their prime time fucking enjoyment.

The Circle was still cleaning up the mess.

And they were pissed.

The bark of laughter tore me from the memory. Jeffries roared, slapped his buddy’s shoulder, and then turned, catching my stare.

I shoved my spine into the back of the seat and stared straight ahead. I wasn’t playing, not with him…and not with anyone—not tonight.

The flutter of movement caught my attention. White flared like a neon sign against the endless dark, falling from the night sky in one swift descent and then disappearing behind the towering building across the street.

A second later, one wing peeked out of the shadows. Perfect pure feathers caught the faded light as Gabriel leaned out and waved like a damn school girl.

“For fuck's sake,” I muttered…as if my night couldn’t get any worse.

Gabriel took a step, and then another. His long coat brushing the ground as he moved, and from the sewn slits in the shoulders, massive wings stretched into the air.

The night breeze whipped his long pale hair from his shoulders and ruffled the opening of his coat. He was bare chested, sculpted muscles rock fucking hard. The man looked like a god. Heat flooded my body and lingered between my thighs as the driver’s door opened and Jeffries finally climbed in.

He adjusted the rearview mirror. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

He wasn’t sorry.

He was never damn sorry.

He found me in the mirror and then turned his head to follow my gaze to the quiet city street. “What are you staring at?” He glanced right, left, and waited.

“Nothing,” I muttered.

But Gabriel was gone from the sidewalk, taking refuge in the shadows once more. The engine started with a growl, and we were moving, pulling out from the sidewalk.

Titus stepped from the doorway as the patrol car pulled out into the street. He raised his gaze, finding me in the backseat, and for a second I swore his lips moved, mouthing words that gripped me like a vise…help me.

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