Hexes and flames, p.1
Hexes & Flames, page 1
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
FablePrint
Hexes & Flames, The Dark Files, Book Three
Copyright © 2020 by Kim Richardson
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction
in whole or in any form.
Cover by Kim Richardson
Text in this book was set in Garamond.
Printed in the United States of America
Summary:
ISBN-13:
[1. Supernatural—Fiction. 2. Demonology—Fiction.
3. Magic—Fiction].
CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
BOOKS BY KIM RICHARDSON
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER 1
“What do you mean Faris is my familiar!” I cried incredulously, my temper rising with the heat of my face. “Poe’s my familiar. I can’t have two familiars. That’s crazy. It’s not how it works.”
My grandfather leaned against the kitchen island and crossed his arms over his chest, his bushy white eyebrows high on his forehead. He’d ditched his blue bathrobe for a pair of khaki pants and a navy-blue sweater. He could have pulled off the old professor look if it weren’t for his tousled mess of white hair that gave him a mad scientist flair.
“You said to do whatever it took,” he said, his voice a little higher than usual. “And that’s exactly what I did.”
“Whoa— Wait a second!” I exclaimed, my blood pressure soaring. “I never asked to make him my familiar. I have enough problems trying to control Poe, who’s still disappearing on me. I don’t want to be responsible for two familiars.” Oh, God, what did he do?
My grandfather stood in the kitchen, now with his hands on his hips and anger growing on his face. He looked just like me. “How did you expect him to stay in our world without the familiar bond? By Krazy Gluing his ass to a chair? That’s not how magic works, Samantha. You know this. Making him your familiar was the only way. The only safe way.”
My eyes found the mid-demon sitting at the kitchen island. I didn’t like the casual look he gave me. “You knew about this, didn't you?”
Faris’s dark eyes met mine, his gaze calculating as he tilted his head to one side. “Of course I did.”
Faris wore the same black pants and matching shirt from yesterday, though wrinkle free and clean with what I expected was some demon magic. He had a faint, glistening aura about him, and I felt it glide over my skin like a soft, cool breeze. It felt different than the energy that had surrounded the mid-demon before. I knew what it was. I recognized it as the energy emanating from a familiar bond. Mine and his.
Tension pulled me straight. “And you’re okay with it?”
Faris took a gulp of his drink, and his short black hair glimmered in the kitchen light like oil. “Better this than having my innards pulled out from my mouth.”
Yikes. Okay. He had a point. Still…
I was a mess. I could barely take care of myself, let alone two familiars. Scratch that. Two familiars with giant egos.
Stress stiffened my shoulders, and I shook my head. “There has to be another way. We just have to look harder.”
“There isn’t.” My grandfather sighed through his nose as he pointed a finger at me. “And don’t even think about going to see that aunt of yours.”
I gripped the edge of the kitchen island and leaned forward. “Is that a challenge?”
“No,” answered my grandfather, his blue eyes pinched. “You’ll just be wasting your time. She’ll tell you the exact same thing. Making him your familiar is the only way to keep him on this side of the planes.”
I pursed my lips. “We’ll see about that.” I was going to ask her. He knew it, and I knew it.
My grandfather’s bushy white eyebrows lowered to a frown. “I never thought I’d see the day when a demon stayed in my house—a bloody demon—and I don’t know anything about him.”
“I’m sitting right here,” mumbled Faris.
My grandfather took a hesitant breath before he continued. “You wanted to save him. Put your big-girl pants on and deal with it!”
“I don’t have time to babysit two familiars,” I cried, gesturing wildly and not caring what they thought. “I didn’t sign up for this. I have to start looking for work. A paying job.” And now that I had a new mouth to feed, the pressure was on. Just Faris’s mere size told me the mid-demon had a very healthy appetite. Cauldron help me. I was going to hurt somebody.
My grandfather’s face reddened, and he gave me an “it’s all your fault” look. “Next time. Don’t make friends with demons.”
Faris laughed bitterly. “Keep it up, Gordon. And you’ll see exactly how friendly this demon is.”
“See!” My grandfather pointed at Faris. “He’s threatening me in my own house! I will not have it, Samantha. I will not. Control your familiar!”
“Yes, Sammy.” Faris gave me a wicked smile, eyebrows high on his forehead suggestively. “Please, control me. You can control me all night long, if you wish.”
I gave Faris a hard stare. “Don’t make me get the flying monkeys.”
The mid-demon made a face but said nothing as he took another sip of his drink.
I rolled my eyes. “This is crap.” My jaw tightened and I stiffened, not liking this at all. My pulse raced, and I felt like I was about to have a heart attack in my own kitchen. I took a steadying breath. Then another. How bad could it be to have Faris as my new familiar? Bad. Really, really bad.
“Well then,” said my grandfather, and I pulled my attention back to him at the finality in his tone. He flicked his gaze to the digital clock on the oven. “If that will be all, I really must be going,” he added with a smile. “I told the widow Tessa I’d pick her up at seven.”
My mouth fell open. “What happened to Charlotte?”
“Don’t wait up, Samantha,” said my grandfather, grinning as he brushed past me. He hummed a tune all the way down the hall, and I heard the front door open and close with a soft bang.
“The witch has incredibly poor taste in gin,” said Faris as he set his empty glass on the counter. “But at least he’s getting some.”
“Shut up,” I growled, not wanting to relive the images of my grandfather’s and Charlotte’s naked bodies. Closing my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose in my attempt to quell the giant migraine throbbing in my forehead. It didn’t work. I took a deep breath and held it. I really didn’t need to deal with this right now. I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to make money yet, now that I’d given my resignation to the Dark Witch Court. And with Faris as my new familiar, I was responsible for him. If he stepped out of line, the consequences would fall on me. Faris was a mid-demon stocked with powerful demonic magic. If he decided to kill a few humans, I would take the heat.
But Faris had saved my life and Logan’s. I owed him. If that meant he would become my familiar, I’d just have to live with it, or learn how to. I didn’t have a choice.
I let out another breath, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders. I could do this. I had to.
“You’re very tense,” said Faris, smiling pleasantly. “I have expert hands.” He made a show of wiggling his fingers. “You want me to release some of that tension?”
“No.”
The demon frowned and lowered his hands. “There’s that word again. No. Strange how you’re the only female who’s ever used it on me.”
I gave the demon a look. “I seriously doubt that.” The playful sound of desire in his voice turned my stomach. “You might be my familiar, Faris,” I said as I came around the counter to get in his face and pointed my finger at him, “but don’t get any ideas. I’m going to stop you right there.”
Faris smiled to show a slip of teeth. “Whatever do you mean, Sammy, darling?”
I glowered. “Don’t play dumb. I’m not going to sleep with you.”
The mid-demon cocked a brow. “Witches and their familiars need to be very close to strengthen their bond. Everyone knows that.”
“Not going to happen.”
“We share magic,” continued the demon. “And we can share other things…”
“Forget it,” I said, my voice final. I was not going to have this conversation again.
Faris gazed at me with more than a hint of testing seduction in his widening eyes. “How about I pour you a nice glass of wine.” He pushed his chair out and got up. “Red? Right?” He moved to my wine cabinet. “Let’s see if there’s anything in here that’s not used for cooking or cleaning. Ah-ha. Here’s a moderately decent wine.” He pulled out a bottle. “M outon Cadet 2015. You’ll have a giant migraine tomorrow. But who cares? You’ll forget about this conversation after two glasses.”
“I don’t want any wine.”
Faris put the bottle on the counter. “Unlike a demon’s, a witch’s life is considerably short. You need to live a little and make the most of it.”
“Speaking from experience?” I asked. Seeing the sudden alarm in his eyes made me regret my choice of words. I hadn’t shared with Faris what Andromalius had told me back in the Netherworld about his witch wife. I wondered if any of it was true. The minotaur demon could have been lying. But from what I saw on Faris’s face, he just confirmed it; the savage glint in his eyes bore his grief and guilt.
Faris glanced at me and then away. For a moment, his gaze had a haunted look, and his grip tightened on the bottle before he mastered himself. The mid-demon blinked, and the moment of grief was replaced by his usual sly amusement. “A little wine never killed anybody,” he said. “Trust me. You look like you need it.”
I rubbed my temples. “I don’t have time for this.” I grabbed my phone from the counter. My chest clenched. No new phone calls. No messages.
Faris yanked the cork out of the wine bottle with a pop. “Your date with the Boy Scout?”
I let out a sigh. “Yes. I have a date with Logan. And stop calling him that.” The memory of Logan’s lips on mine sent tiny tingles of pleasure through me.
“You can do a lot better than the Boy Scout,” continued Faris as he began to pull open the kitchen cabinets.
“You don’t know anything about him,” I countered.
“Neither do you.” Faris grabbed two wineglasses and settled them on the counter next to the wine bottle. “What time was he supposed to pick you up?”
An hour ago. Damn. Why wasn’t he here? I thought about calling him but quickly quashed that thought. I didn’t want him to think I was a stalker or too needy. That wasn’t me. I was a confident witch and very proud. I didn’t need a man to make me feel good about myself, but that didn’t mean intimacy was bad either. Hell, it was nice. Really nice.
I thought Logan and I had shared a connection back in our cage in the Netherworld. Perhaps I’d been wrong.
What if Logan had told someone my secret? What if he’d betrayed me?
My heart gave a squeeze. Did I really misread all the signs? Granted, I had been off the dating game for some time, maybe too long. But Logan had asked me out to dinner. Why ask if he didn’t plan on showing? Was this a game to him?
Faris brought his head up at my silence. “Forget about him.” He handed me a large glass of red wine. “Here. Have a drink.”
I shook my head, anger seeping into my mind, and drew in a frustrated breath. “No thank you.”
Faris shrugged and took a sip. He frowned as he swooshed the wine around in his mouth like I’d seen some pretentious witches do at wine-tasting events. He swallowed and said, “Tastes like an old rug. You sure you don’t want any?”
Gritting my teeth, I slipped my phone in my pocket. I was trying to keep my emotions from showing but doing a piss-poor job of it.
“What did you expect?” said Faris, seeing my disappointment. “He’s an angel-born. You’re a witch.”
“So what?” I argued. “What does that have to do with anything.”
“Don’t be naïve, Sam. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Don’t be patronizing, Faris. I might kill you.”
The demon snorted. “Good one.”
My anger rose anew, making my face hot. The bastard had stood me up. He’d played me, but I wasn’t going to feel sorry for myself. If he thought I was going to sit here all night in the hope that he would show up, he was an idiot. I was not that kind of witch.
I met Faris’s gaze. “Let’s get out of here.”
Faris beamed. “Now you’re speaking my language. I know just the place to get a decent drink.”
I grabbed my shoulder bag and headed down the hall. The tall mid-demon hurried before me and pulled open the front door.
“Witches first,” he intoned and gestured with his hand, looking overly enthusiastic. I could see the devilish plans forming behind his eyes. I was going to pay for this. I could feel it in my gut.
“Wiseass,” I muttered as I moved past him to the platform.
The scent of rosewater wafted toward me and I stiffened. Vera Wardwell looked up from her front garden, her green eyes cold and hard, with a handful of sage. The glowing white sphere that hovered next to her cast dark shadows along her face and long nose, making her look old and ragged. Her long red hair was pulled back into a messy bun.
“Vera,” I said in way of greeting, ignoring the hard stare she was giving me as I made my way down the steps.
“Who’s your friend?” asked the old witch. Her tone was expectant as though I was obligated to tell her. Before I could tell her to piss off, Faris leaped down the stairs and made his way toward the witch.
I pulled myself straight in worry as I saw him reach for her dirty hand. Damn it. The last thing I wanted was Vera’s very large nose in my business.
“Farissael at your service,” purred the mid-demon, and he kissed the top of her hand streaked with earth.
Vera’s cheeks reddened to match her hair. It was a damn wonder she didn’t combust into flames. “Oh,” was the only thing that came out of her mouth. The witch was speechless. Now, that was a first.
The witch smiled, clearly taken by the mid-demon’s charms and devilishly good looks. Oh, boy.
“Farissael,” said the witch, seemingly regaining control of her voice. I noticed how she hadn’t taken her hand away. “You look familiar. Do I know you? Are you a witch from out of town?” Her voice was soft, almost sweet, another thing I’d never seen before. Creepy.
Faris’s face twisted into a dazzling smile. “I’m Samantha’s new familiar.”
The blood drained from my face. Oh. Hell. Way to go, Faris.
Vera stiffened, and her eyes widened as she yanked her hand away. “You’re a demon?” She wiped her hand on her dress. “You don’t smell like a demon.” She took a careful step back from him, her face wrinkling in disdain, though the fear in her eyes was real.
Faris gave the witch a knowing smile. “It’s one of the perks of being a mid-demon. I can smell like anything I want.” He leaned forward. “Or anything you want,” he added with a seductive arch in his brow.
“Faris,” I warned. “Let’s go.”
“Have you registered him with the Court?” Vera’s voice was sharp, her eyes glaring and her drawn-on eyebrows high on her wide forehead. “All new familiars must be registered. It is as much for their protection as it is for ours.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “I haven’t had the time to get around to it yet.” Shit. She was absolutely right. If I didn’t register Faris soon, it was the noose for both of us.
“What happened with the raven?” asked the redheaded witch.
A ribbon of fear wrapped around my heart. “He’s around. Not that it’s any of your business.” If the Dark Witch Court found out I had two familiars, it was going to get messy. They would ask me to make a choice—Poe or Faris. I didn’t want to make that kind of choice right now. I couldn’t.
Vera’s mouth fell into a small O. She scoffed, placing her hands on her hips. “Well,” she said, a winning sneer on her face, “the Dark Witch Court is going to hear about that.”
“You do that.” Like I cared what they thought about me.
I reached out and steered Faris away. “No more playing with the witch, Faris,” I whispered in his ear.
“You’re no fun,” he mumbled, his teeth flashing in the soft light. “Just when things were getting exciting.”
“Sam!”
I looked up at the sudden loud flapping of wings just as a large raven dove for me. I lifted my arm, and with a great beat of his wings he landed expertly on it.
“Sam,” said Poe again, the urgency clear in his tone. “I have a message from the Dark Witch Court.”
I frowned at the small, light gray feathers stuck to his beak. “I don’t work for them anymore. Remember? I gave them my notice yesterday. I should have asked them for a giant bonus after what Darius tried to pull.”
“I know, but this is urgent,” pressed Poe. “You’re going to want to hear this.”
“And you know this, how?” I asked, conscious that Vera had suddenly taken a step closer.
“I—intercepted the message myself,” said the raven, ruffling his feathers as he stuck out his chest proudly.
