Second Blood: A Reverse Harem Tale (Lovin' the Coven Book 2) Read online

  At least Candace was on my side. "I… Okay. Yes. I fucked up. I'm sorry."

  "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

  "Well, he can wait."

  The doorbell chimed merrily. I wanted to rip it off the wall and stuff it in the garbage disposal. "Could one of you get that? If it's Chief, slam the door in his face, please."

  Candace got up and headed toward the door.

  "I wasn't talking about him."

  "Who then?"

  "The entire coven. You didn't consult anybody."

  "So, I was supposed to hold a town meeting while the vampire was asking for help?"

  "No, but you should have told him you needed to discuss it with your coven and asked him to come back."

  I sighed. I hated it when Josie was right. I really did.

  The door slammed shut and Candace came back in and plopped down next to Josie. I stared at her expectantly and then looked toward the living room. "Who was it?"

  "Chief."

  I laughed. "Let me guess. You slammed the door in his face."

  She blinked. "Was I not supposed to?"

  I smiled and shook my head. Josie gave her a hug and I headed toward the front door. I opened it just as a very confused looking Chief was about to knock on it. "Come in."

  I turned around, and headed back to the kitchen, leaving the door open for him this time.

  I opened the door of the non-working fridge and stuck my empty glass of wine under the nearly empty box of wine, twisting the spigot.

  "May I have a glass?"

  "There's beer left if you'd rather."

  "Wine is fine. I still have the taste of garlic bread in my mouth."

  I grabbed a water glass out of the cupboard and filled it for him. All the wine glasses were in the dishwasher. Thankfully, it was the one appliance still working. My new set would be here tomorrow, and I couldn't be happier. "Out of wine glasses."

  "This is fine."

  "Come on, Candace. Let's let the big people talk." Josie grabbed her hand and they headed for Josie's room.

  Chief sighed. "Dot–"

  "I'm sorry." I didn't give him the chance to finish.

  "What?"

  "I'm not saying it again. You heard me."

  "I seriously didn't hear what you said."

  "I…am…sorry," I reiterated slowly.

  "I know. I heard you."

  "Did you seriously come here to fight?"

  "No. I came here to apologize."

  "Wait, what?"

  "I…am…sorry…too."

  "We're a mess. Want to sit and talk somewhere a little more comfortable?"

  "Sure."

  I took my glass of wine and headed toward the living room. I parked my butt on the love seat and pointed at the couch. Not that I didn't want to sit next to him, I just wanted to face him while we talked.

  "Well, I apologized for being a bitch and not consulting everyone first. What are you sorry for?"

  "For not talking to you about it after and starting the fight because I was angry."

  "I do have that effect on you."

  "You do. But what I did was inexcusable. You are the high priestess and they came to the coven. I was angry as the chief of police whose job it is to keep the town safe."

  I drank some more wine, thinking about things from his point of view. "Back home…and I know you're probably sick of me saying that, and I'm sorry…my mother is the high priestess of the largest coven outside of Europe. My grandmother basically carved the town out of the wilderness and ruled over it. My mother became high priestess and reigned through the invention of the telephone, automobiles, and iPads. She's had to deal with losing part of her authority to human figureheads and law enforcement, but now they work together harmoniously. Well, maybe not the mayor, but that's because he made fun of my mother's brownies at one of the fundraisers."

  "That's what started the horse's ass feud?"

  "Yeah… Did I mention my mother is quite petty?"

  "Didn't need to."

  "She doesn't hide it." I snorted.

  He slid forward in the seat. "So, how does she make it work with the chief of police, there?"

  "She's been boinking him for forty-something years. He's in his seventies now and she still enjoys it. He gets off, she gets what she wants."

  "Is that what you are suggesting we do in this situation?"

  "No. In fact, the odds of me having sex with you went down exponentially earlier this evening."

  He winced.

  "Until you apologized as well. I was being an uppity shit, you called me on it, and still apologized."

  "So…"

  "We both were wrong for different reasons. We need to discuss this and come up with a solution."

  "Agreed."

  I lifted my glass in a toast.

  "To a long and prosperous working relationship."

  "Was that a penis reference?" I snickered.

  "What? No!"

  "Cuz it sounded like one."

  "Dot, I swear!"

  "You're not allowed to use the word long anymore. Ever." I couldn't help it. I was teasing him, and he was squirming. It was delightful.

  "You're fucking with me right now, aren't you?"

  I smiled at him over the rim of my glass. "Maybe."

  He gulped his glass of wine and grabbed mine as he passed me on the way to the kitchen. "Is this stuff any better cold?"

  "Worse. Box wine should never be cold, I think it turns into kerosene."

  "That might taste better."

  "There's a bottle of good shit in the cabinet above the fridge. Want me to open it?"

  "I got it."

  I heard the cabinet open and the bottle slide out. He came back into the living room and sat down next to me, whispering, "Yn agored."

  The cork burst through the foil cover and he caught it with his empty hand. He sniffed the open bottle, winced, and took a long swig, passing it to me.

  "Classy," I said and did the same. The difference between the bottle and box was moonshine and kerosene. They'd both fuck you up, but one might kill you.

  I turned and put my back against the arm of the loveseat, sliding my legs over his and getting comfortable. I took another swig and handed it to him.

  "So, what do you think we should do?"

  He turned, looked at me, and snickered. "Could you please grow your hair back? I mean really. It's getting hard to have a conversation with you. I couldn't even look at you when we were fighting. I would have given up if I could."

  "Ag fás," I said, picturing my shoulder length, red hair. I could feel it growing and wanted to scream and scratch my head. Not the most pleasant feeling in the world. "Better?"

  "Horribly uncomfortable to watch, but yes."

  "My mother used that spell on the mayor's back at a picnic one year."

  "That's mean."

  "Did you just meet my mother?"

  "Technically, yes."

  I rolled my eyes and grabbed the bottle from him. A long pull later and I handed it back. "At least we never saw him in a tank top again."

  The chief grinned. "So. Vampires. Do you honestly think they can come here and live among the humans?"

  "Honestly, I think they can. Is there a blood bank in town?"

  "Yes. Believe it or not, we supply a lot of the blood to the surrounding cities."

  "How?"

  "People are broke. They sell their plasma and platelets for cash. I think they even give away movie tickets for regular blood donations. The theater here closed, but the one in Amersville is open."

  "That's sad. Is it for sale?"

  "What?"

  "The blood bank?"

  "How the hell would I know?"

  "Well, it would be easier than dealing with competition."

  "You are insane."

  "Did you just meet me?"

  "Technically, yes."

  "Oh, stop. You've known me for like two weeks now," I said and snagged the bottle. Or tried to. Chief took another
swing before letting me have it. I tipped it back and poured the tiny bit into my mouth that was left. "Was there another one up there?"

  "Yeah. Like three people brought you wine as a house warming gift. Should I grab another?"

  "Unless you feel like drinking out of the box."

  "I'll grab another. I'm not that brave." He lifted my legs, sliding out from under them.

  "I know."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" He called from the kitchen.

  "Oh, I don't know."

  He used his spell to pop the cork and set it on the kitchen counter as he walked back into the living room "Because I'm leery about having a clan of vampires move into town?"

  "No. That was a snide remark about you being a chicken."

  "I'm a chicken?"

  "Yep. Cluck cluck."

  "Wow. You're drunk."

  "So're you."

  He drank and handed the bottle to me. "Yeah, but I'm a sweet drunk. You're kinda mean with your chicken noises 'n shit."

  "Cluck cluck."

  "So, why exactly am I a chicken?"

  "Cuz you wouldn't get into the shower with me. Had to wash myself all by my lonesome." I took a couple of gulps and pointed the bottle at him. "Chicken."

  "That's hardly fair. I wasn't the only one you invited."

  "So? My shower is plenty big."

  "I'm not showering with another guy."

  "Haven't you ever been in a locker room?"

  "Yes."

  "Have you ever seen a grown man naked, Joey?"

  "What?"

  "Have you ever seen a gladiator movie, Joey?"

  "You are drunk."

  "Maybies." I took another drink. "Have you ever been in a Turkish Prison?"

  "Give me that." He snagged it from me and downed the rest of it.

  "Wow. That was mean." I scooted my butt closer to him and put my legs back over his. His hand slowly crept up my leg and settled on my knee.

  "So was asking me to shower with Jimmy. I like the guy, but not that much."

  "It's not like I was going to fuck you both in the shower. I just thought it would be fun."

  His hand started making lazy circles on my knee. I was wearing leggings. It kind of made me wish I had worn a dress. I was concentrating very hard on what that would have felt like on bare skin.

  "Woah. Now I'm drunk." He started laughing.

  "Good. You're more fun when you're drunk."

  "I know. I'm boring."

  "Ha! No, you're not. You're just more playful."

  "How?"

  "You touch me more."

  "You like to be touched?"

  "Sometimes," I said and smiled seductively. But, then again, I was pretty shitfaced. I might have been grinning at him like a roofied caribou.

  "You're sexier when you drink, so I touch you more." To illustrate his point, he slid his hand from my knee up over my lower abdomen and down my other leg.

  "That tingles. So, I'm not sexy when I'm not drunk? Is that what you are saying?"

  "Not at all. You are incredibly sexy when you're sober, you just become even sexier when you drink, and I can no longer resist your sexy seductive temptations."

  "So, I'm sexy and seductive when I drink. Gotcha." I spread my legs open and struck a pose. I have no idea what pose I struck, but he started laughing. However, his hand did come to rest on my inner thigh, so I did something right.

  My thoughts drifted to the shower again. "You should have sucked it up and had that shower with me."

  "I don't see you yelling at Jimmy for not agreeing, either."

  "He's not here."

  "No. He's not." For all his noble words about not getting jealous, he sure sounded it.

  "Are you jealous?"

  "Me? No. Not even a little."

  "Cuz you shouldn't be."

  "Good, cuz I'm not."

  "Kinda sound it."

  "Nope."

  "Okay. I'm just sayin'."

  He gripped my thigh in his hand. "Do I?"

  "What are you doing?"

  "Do I sound jealous?"

  He squeezed my leg a little. It sent a jolting spasm through my leg, causing me to arch my back and lift my butt off the couch. "No!" I gave him a dirty look when he stopped.

  "Am I jealous?" He gave me an innocent smile.

  "Maybe." He squeezed again and I howled like a banshee as I twisted in my seat, trying to free my leg from his grip. Then he let go again.

  "Am I jealous?"

  "No, you bastard. You're not jealous."

  "See. I told you."

  CHAPTER 3

  A light, rhythmic tapping on my forehead woke me from my zinfandel induced slumber. My eyes opened and crossed, focusing on the feminine finger raising and plunging on the spot between my eyebrows.

  "Don't make me magick your armpit hair into steel wool."

  The finger disappeared and was replaced with a very amused looking Josie face. I groaned and rolled over, my hips bending at an uncomfortable angle as the chief was still under me.

  "I don't have any armpit hair."

  "I'll grow you some," I said and closed my eyes, wiggling my butt and trying to get comfortable.

  "No make-up sex?"

  "No. One of us passed out. Not sure who though."

  "Yeah. I think you both did."

  "What is that fucking noise?" I sat up, looking around and sighing when I realized it was him, snoring beside me. "Lady, he sounds like a friggin' chainsaw."

  "And you sounded like a woodchipper until I woke you up."

  "I don't snore. Shut your face hole."

  "Are you still drunk?"

  "Josie."

  "Yes?"

  "Can you grab me a big bowl from the kitchen? Maybe the garbage can?"

  "Oh, shit. She's gonna pop! Candace!"

  I heard the cabinet open and the sound of plastic bowls scraping against each other assaulted my ears. Something whisked through the air, thunked against Josie's hands, and before I knew it, a five-quart green plastic mixing bowl was shoved in front of my face just as I let loose.

  I coughed, sputtered, and hurled until my eyes watered and I moaned, rolling onto my back. Josie's hand had been around my hair the whole time.

  "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you into bed."

  A pair of hands slipped under my arms and another set wrapped around my knees. Then I was floating. Floating and groaning and bouncing. My stomach lurched, and I burped.

  "Don't puke!"

  "Not. I done."

  "Uh huh."

  "Water and Advil. If you could kill me, that would be much appreciated, too."

  "Nope. You're going to suffer and I'm going to laugh."

  "You're mean in the morning."

  "Only when my roommate is dumb enough to get pukey drunk and I have to take care of her."

  "Shut up. When was the last time? 87? 88?"

  "88 I think. After the Duran Duran concert."

  "That was fun. We should do that again."

  "I think they broke up a couple of decades ago, sweetie."

  "Bummer."

  They set me gently on my bed and the room started spinning. I looked down at my feet and found Candace perched there with a worried look on her face.

  "Ugh. Kill me now. I don't want to live."

  "Watch her. I'm going to go get her some water."

  A moment later and Candace was peering at my face. I attempted to smile, but it hurt too much. "Help."

  She sighed and touched the tip of her finger to my forehead. "Bliv bedre."

  A cool feeling spread through my head, the pounding stopped, and so did the spinning room. "Woah."

  "Better?"

  "Yes. Thank you."

  She nodded and sat down next to me, rubbing my tummy. She started singing in a language I had never heard, sounding similar to her spell. "What language is that?"

  "Danish."

  "That feels good." There was nothing sexual about it either. It was like a mother soothing her child.


  I must have dozed off, when I opened my eyes again, she was gone. I gingerly lifted my head off the pillow and gave it a tentative shake. There was no headache rattling around. "Sweet Lady of Light."

  I unceremoniously rolled over and got my feet on the floor, facing the bed in case I fell. I really needed to pee. I lifted myself up and stumbled to the bathroom. There might not have been a headache, but I was still hungover.

  After I peed, I pulled my leggings off and went from the toilet straight into the shower, standing against the back wall until the water warmed enough to plunge beneath it. Ten minutes later, I was almost human. I would need coffee and water to elevate myself back to witch. I wasn't drinking for another forty years or so.

  I washed up and got out of the shower, grabbing a clean towel and drying myself as I wandered back into my bedroom. I tossed the towel on the chest at the end of my bed and pulled an oversized T-shirt out of my dresser. Pulling it over my head I reentered the land of the living.

  Chief was gone, or at least not on my couch. It was Monday morning. I'm sure he panicked and ran home to freshen up before heading into work. I just hoped he didn't get a DUI on the way home. I told myself to check on him via text after I got some coffee into me.

  I put a pot up to brew and shifted from foot to foot as I impatiently waited for my liquid heroin. Five minutes later, I said, "Fuck it," and yanked the pot out while it was still brewing and splashed some in my mug. I'd clean the mess up later. Replacing the pot back under the flow as quickly as I could, I took a swig. I let it roll over my tongue and almost choked on how strong it was.

  Oh, well.

  I smiled at my mug, the only one who loved me, and went and sat on the couch, folding my legs beneath me as I held my head in my hand and kept sipping the coffee.

  The doorbell rang and I didn't even remotely want to get up. "Come in!" I yelled as loud as I could. Either they heard me, or they didn't. I didn't care either way.

  The door tried to open, but it was locked. I sighed, and stood up, walking over. I unlocked it and unlatched it, but I wasn't pulling it open. I had to do enough just to get my ass back down on the couch and stop the room from spinning.

  "You look like shit." Jimmy's disapproving voice grated on my nerves.

  "Thanks. Coincidentally, that's how I feel."

  "Coffee?"

  "Kitchen."

  "Need more?"

  "Please," I said and hoisted my mug over my shoulder, not taking my head from my hand.