The Family Spells: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance Page 10

  Hex … looked like he was in the latter camp.

  He was getting an orange and black jack-o’-lantern tattooed on the underside of his left wrist—a very fitting Halloween tribute. I had no idea what spell was being worked into the design, but from what I could see and smell, my guess was something fire-related.

  Spec was getting a healing spell on the back of his neck, in the form of a bat with its wings outspread. It fit in perfectly with the dark themes of his other tats. And Caine, well … Caine had picked out this wicked looking pin-up model. A pin-up model with a very familiar face. I almost stabbed him with the enchanted knife I kept in my purse when I saw he'd brought one of our special honeymoon photos in for his tattoo.

  So, now a very familiar, very close to naked version of me was being inked onto his hip. The spell allowed him to tap into my magic in case of emergency. Now, I sincerely hoped we didn't have any emergencies anytime soon, but I could not wait until he used that stupid spell and the tattoo disappeared from his skin.

  "What's your design all about?" Hex asked, lifting his chin in my direction. He was watching me—checking me out, more like—and I could see that his forehead was sweaty, his pupils dilated. We had sexual chemistry, that much I couldn't deny.

  "It's a full moon with a spotted cat," I said with a loose shrug of one shoulder. "It can do two things simultaneously: change day to night, and summon Bastet." Ugh, my voice sounds even huskier than usual. I better not be getting one of those human colds the kids sometimes brought home from preschool and daycare. Yuck. Those were notoriously hard to cure, and usually required a bit of human hair and snot in the potion. I'd rather just stay sick, to be quite frank.

  "Bastet is …" Hex began and I smiled as he watched me get inked, my naked skin flushing hot under his stare. Good thing Caine was lying on his back and dozing. He always napped while he got tattooed. If he saw the way Hex was looking at me, he'd probably start up another fight right here and now.

  "My familiar." Hex nodded and sighed.

  "Connard is mine. He's a fucking prick."

  "Like familiar, like witch," Argent supplied, giving one of those creepy faerie smiles. Even in his full glamour, people could sense it. The parents at the kids' daycare were not a fan of my husband. Err, not of any of my husbands really. Okay, maybe Spec on a good day. "How is it that as a half-breed, you have a familiar anyway?"

  "Shit if I know," Hex said, leaning back into the chair as the sound of the buzzing tattoo machine took over the silence. "It's like a one in ten chance, isn't it?"

  "One in ten?" Argent repeated with a sigh and a shake of his head. "One in fifty, more like."

  "Guess I'm just lucky?" Hex said with a little smirk, flicking his eyes over to me and licking his lower lip. I don't even think he meant to do it; it just happened. "Jealous you don't have one?"

  "An annoying, talking animal sidekick?"Argent asked, his charcoal gray eyes shimmering through the magical glamour he wore over his true form. "No, thank you. I feel lucky that I don't have one."

  "Whatever," Hex said, moving his eyes from my hip … to my face. I found myself licking my own lip and reaching up to tuck some hair behind my ear. Ugh. All those stereotypical flirting mechanisms brought on by biology.

  The needle buried itself into my skin, filling my flesh with ink as Hex and I stared at each other, feeding off the natural tension in the air between us. That pain-almost-pleasure feeling from the needle made me shift uncomfortably. I could feel it between my thighs, an insistent throbbing that begged to be soothed.

  Who knew that getting a tattoo could be so … hot.

  What had I said yesterday? That getting a tattoo was hot?

  Scratch that—I lied.

  I lifted up the hem of my shirt and picked at the clear bandage on my hip with my fingernails. I was supposed to leave it on for twenty-four hours, but it was all gooey and gross inside, and the edges of the bandage had already peeled up on their own. Dirt and wolf hairs from the twins were stuck in the sticky film. All in all, it was a very not hot, very unsexy sort of picture.

  This was all made especially worse because I was standing outside Zavier's preschool, hating that I was already late to pick Fey up. The twins had shifted from baby to wolf inside their car seats and torn out substantial amounts of yellow cushion fluff. Also, I'd had to beg the snooty Montessori school teacher to bring Zavier outside to me, so we didn't have to drag the twins up three floors to the classroom everyday. But when they shifted in the car, and she saw they were dogs and not kids … That just never went over well.

  The leaves were swirling around me in red, orange, and yellow whirlwinds, and although the rain wasn't heavy, it was coming in at me from a slant, pelting me underneath my black and gold pentagram umbrella.

  Oftentimes, we'd come in pairs to pick the kids up, but today was my turn and my husbands were all busy gathering supplies for my mother's spell. Most of the items needed had to be procured by the spellcasters. Otherwise, it wouldn't work at all. There were three ingredients in particular that were giving me a gods-damned heart attack.

  Three that we actually needed to go into the demon realm of Hael to find.

  Oh, that should be fun. It wasn't like my coven was famous for eradicating demons from earth or anything like that.

  "Hello, Graceley," a voice said from behind me, and I almost choked on my own spit.

  Goddess-damn it! I was about to have one of those encounters, moms. You know the ones: when the mean girl mommies walk up like they're in a slow-motion movie, and you feel like you're shriveling up in your skeleton-patterned tights, tattoos, and plaid mini-skirt? Every time I had one of these, I had to go home and watch Bad Moms on repeat.

  "Hello, Mercy," I said, forcing a smile onto my black-painted lips. Hey, it was almost Halloween! I mean, I dressed like it was Halloween most days anyway, but right now I had a valid excuse.

  I should've sent Zavier to a witch school.

  Oh. No, wait: the witch moms were even meaner than the human ones. That, and our coven was so notorious for fucking with demons, I felt like my kids were safer buried among humans.

  "On your way to a costume party?" Mercy asked, styled like she was on her way to a Hollywood movie premiere full of nuns. I mean, she was all decked-out in jewelry and makeup, but covered up from head to toe. More power to her, but I just wished she wouldn't stare at my ankles like they were scandalous. "It's a little early for that, don't you think?"

  "Everyday is Halloween," I said with a loose shrug of my shoulders. Sirens sounded in the distance, and the twins took up the haunting cry of the wolf in the backseat of my SUV. I refused to drive a minivan. Like, I fucking refused. At least with an SUV, I could pretend I was going camping or some shit.

  "Your dogs are chewing up your children's seats," Mercy said, holding her son close to her side and peering in my window like she was considering calling animal control. "I've heard wolfdogs are dangerous. You trust those things around your kids?"

  "Implicitly," I said, wishing the teacher would come out with Zavier so I could get the fuck out of here. Did I mention that Mercy was the name of one of the ‘afflicted girls’ during the Salem witch trials? The ones who did all the accusing?

  I was trying not to hold it against this woman, but … I didn't much like her anyway.

  I'd tried, too. I'd been nice through all her bullshit because I really and truly believed in female solidarity. But … her husband called me a whore once, Argent punched him, and well, Mercy seemed to go out of her way to make me feel like shit.

  "I guess Halloween’s more part of your religion than mine," Mercy said, her flouncy strawberry blonde hair curled perfectly around her made-up face. She stared at me with dark brown eyes, and a sardonic smile. "You're a satanist, right?"

  "Hardly," I choked with a scathing laugh. We'd been over this before. "I'm not religious at all."

  "But you're a witch?" she asked, giving my pointed hat a look. I could not wear one to school, su
re, but I wasn't about to change who I was because of someone else's bullying. Besides, most witches wore hats most of the time. They were covered in emergency spells in case of a demon attack, an assault from another coven, etc.

  A gust of wind swept up before I could answer, turning my umbrella inside-out … just before it started to pour even harder down on my head.

  Mercy stood there, her son and herself tucked under her massive pink umbrella, and just gawked.

  And then an orange umbrella with a pumpkin face on it covered me up, keeping me from the next surge of rain-turned-hail. When I turned to look, I found Hex standing there, staring at me like I was crazy.

  "Grace?" he asked, as I blinked through droplets of rainwater clinging to my eyelashes. I brushed them away, and just gaped at him.

  "Is this another one of your polygamist husbands?" Mercy asked.

  "It's called polyandry," I explained, but I wasn't really looking at her. Fuck, I almost felt sorry for her. Her husband was cheating on her—something I'd learned from a spell. I'd been so angry one day, I was determined to get back at her. But that wasn't right. I wasn't going to do that. She'd find out on her own eventually; it wasn't up to me to tell her. "What are you doing here?"

  Heh.

  Déjà vu.

  Hadn't I asked this question just yesterday?

  Another chance meeting.

  Hex glanced into the backseat of my car at the twins, before turning back to me with his dark brows raised. His orange eyes matched his umbrella, and I found myself smiling.

  "I'm meeting my best friend for coffee," he said, gesturing down the street in the direction of one of Seattle's many, many, many famous coffee shops. And then, as if he'd just realized he was carrying a jack-o’-lantern umbrella, Hex grimaced. "My grandmother bought this for me," he said, and then paused again, narrowing his eyes. "Although that doesn't make it any fucking better, does it?" He smiled, and I laughed, feeling a warmth come over me that I hadn't expected.

  Mercy scoffed behind me and took off, dragging her poor kid behind her. I wasn't as exciting of a target today as usual. Too bad. I'm sure she'd nail me at the next parents-and-me group. Spec and Caine insisted on going to every meeting. I'm sure you can guess how that goes down.

  "Thirty-two fucking years old, and I live with my grandma," Hex said on the end of a long exhale. "I get it; I'm a douche." He paused and looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time. I watched him with rapturous attention as he ran his tongue over his lower lip. He was flirting with me again, and I don't think he had any idea he was doing it. "You know, if you wanted to come and have coffee with me and—"

  "Ms. Spells." I heard my name and glanced up to find Zavier's teacher escorting my son down the stone steps. Her hair was … an awful shade of fuchsia. Uh-oh. "I'd like to speak to you for a moment about Zavier."

  I glanced over at Hex and saw him gaping at my son like he'd never seen a child before.

  Oh dear.

  Zavier looked up at him … and smiled.

  He smiled. My cranky, introverted, little vampire-witch son was smiling at a strange man?! I almost passed out right there on the sidewalk in front of the preschool.

  Hex looked from him, and then into the backseat of my SUV where both twins had just shifted back into baby form, buried in piles of chewed up seat fluff, both of them wailing at the tops of their lungs.

  Serious face-palm moment.

  "I …" Hex started, but Miss Kyler was already talking.

  "I'm not opposed to Halloween pranks, but for a four-year old to have pulled this off." She pointed at her head. "He obviously had to have some help. And I have to say, I'm not exactly thrilled at my new hair color." I just stared at her, swallowed hard, and then snapped my fingers.

  Her hair changed back to its normal dishwater brown.

  "I'm sorry, but I'm not following?" I said, peering close and pretending to be confused. Zavier just giggled and pulled away from his teacher to gaze up at Hex with rapture.

  "Are you my new daddy?' he asked, and I almost keeled over and died. Oh for fuck's sake! He'd never asked another man that before! And it wasn't like I brought boyfriends home all the time to meet him—he wasn't born until after Caine, Spec, Argent, and I were all committed to each other. He knew we weren't adding anymore daddies to the lineup.

  "Uh, no," Hex said, taking a step back. Our eyes met again, and I swear, I could see the sexual tension between us drifting off in the autumn breeze like so much smoke. Goddess-damn it! "I'm sorry, but … I can see you're busy. It's probably not a good time for coffee." Hex handed over the umbrella, and I took it in numb fingers. "I've gotta go."

  He took off into the pouring rain at a half-jog, and I felt my throat get tight, and my eyes start to tear.

  "Don't cry, Mommy," Zavier said, as I hauled him up in one arm and tucked him close to me. Ugh. I had no idea why I was being so emotional; I knew there was nothing between Hex and me, that there was never going to be anything. But seeing the horror in his face, I just felt sad.

  "I don't understand," Miss Kyler said, staring into her reflection on my side mirror. "My hair …"

  "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding," I said, magicking the fluff back into place on the twins' car seats and strapping all three kids in. I climbed into my SUV, and got the fuck out of there before I started bawling.

  "What's wrong?" Argent asked when I got home, my face wet with tears. I'd even stopped over at my favorite locally-and-witches owned coffee drive-thru for a pumpkin coffee—just as much basic bitch as a PSL but with twice the magic.

  Then Zavier had gotten in a fight with his brother, and I'd glanced up in the rearview to yell, hit a speedbump, and spilled piping hot liquid all over my lap and, most importantly, my vagina. Do you know how badly it hurts to get steaming hot coffee on your vagina?!

  I'd magicked the mess up, but I was still an emotional wreck for some, weird, unknown reason. I guess I was just having one of those days, you know. I felt insecure, and stupid, and like I wanted to be anywhere but here.

  "I'm fine," I said, handing Zavier over to Argent.

  "Where's Fey?" he asked as I started unbuckling the twins.

  Fey …

  "Fuck!" I cursed, standing up so fast that I slammed my head against the roof of the SUV. The twins started to scream again, and I swear I almost lost it. "I forgot her at daycare!" I moaned, crying even harder and hating myself for it. I knew I wasn't just crying over the situation with Hex. No, I was just having a bad day. We all have them sometimes, don't we? "I'm a shitty mom."

  "You are not a shitty anything," Argent said, taking me by the shoulders and moving me away from the car. He brushed some red hair back from my face as Caine and Spec pulled up in Caine's red Jeep Wrangler.

  They got out pretty damn quick when they saw me crying.

  Spec came straight over to me as Caine unbuckled … oh, Fey! He pulled her out of the seat and came over to stand with the rest of us.

  "What's the matter, my little witch?" Spec asked, touching the side of my face with his inked hand. "We got a message that you hadn't picked up Fey, and we tried calling you but you didn't answer."

  "The twins ate my phone," I sniffled, putting my hand to my chest to calm my racing heart. Fey stared at me from eyes the same charcoal color as her father's. She was holding a popsicle stick with a laminated paper witch hat on the end of it. "I'm sorry, I …"

  "Not a big deal," Caine growled, leaning in to give me a kiss that helped warm up some of the cold shadows in my chest. "That's why there are four of us. Way too much shit to do alone. Go single moms. Fuckin' angels, as far as I'm concerned."

  "And single dads," I added, "all like two of them."

  Spec chuckled as Caine held Fey out toward me, so she could give me a kiss on the cheek.

  "Caine I will take the kids in, and get them settled. You relax a while, okay?" Spec leaned into the car to get the twins while Zavier raced around the yard with the dog. And when
I say dog, I mean wolf. Not even a wolfdog, just a wolf. Caine found him in the woods as a pup, entire pack slaughtered by ranchers. "We could all use some time to decompress before we have to deal with Hex and Abigail."

  "I don't even know if he's coming now," I said, and all three men paused what they were doing to stare at me.

  "What?" Argent asked, his voice going cold. He wasn't wearing his glamour, didn't have to out here. We were just far enough from the Seattle Metro Area to feel like we were in the middle of nowhere; our property backed up to Tiger Mountain State forest. The old house was coven owned, but that wasn't unusual. Almost all witches lived on coven owned property.

  Being a witch wasn't a singular activity.

  It was all about community.

  "I ran into him today," I said, explaining the brief encounter as quickly as I could. "I don't know if he'll even show up on Thursday. I don't think he quite realized what having four kids under four meant."

  "It's none of his Veil-damned business anyway," Argent growled, his skin glowing bright enough to cast shadows on the trees behind him. "What does he care how many kids we have?"

  "I have no idea," I said, wiping the last of the tears from my face. Being a mom was awesome, but it was also hard as hell sometimes. Every once in a while, I needed a break to just … adult. And not the boring sort of adulting, like bill paying and doing taxes. I needed to have a drink, go dancing, fuck my husbands. "But you should've seen his face: he was freaked the fuck out."

  "He best get over it then," Argent said, leading me inside. He shoved the pumpkin umbrella into the skull-shaped holder near the door with more force than necessary. "Come upstairs, by-the-Grace-of-the-gods, and let's get that wet dress off of you."

  I smiled, and sniffled, sipping the last few drops of my pumpkin coffee as I headed past the cozy living room with its giant fireplace—big enough for a person-size cauldron (don't ask). The staircase was windy, and old, and probably not to code, but we had spells carved into the banister to keep anyone from falling over the railing.