Serpent's Touch: A Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy (The Last Serpent Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  TITLE PAGE

  Synopsis

  Follow Tansey!

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Author's note

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Contents

  TITLE PAGE

  Synopsis

  Follow Tansey!

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Follow Tansey!

  Author's note

  About the Author

  Copyright

  SERPENT’S TOUCH

  The Last Serpent

  Book 1

  By Tansey Morgan

  The thing about fairy tales is, there's usually a catch. This one was no exception.

  The day I, Lilith Palmer, stopped being the Hot Topic girl and became something else started as any other, but ended in the car of a devilishly handsome man whose net-worth was probably higher than the entire neighborhood I lived in; not my usual Tuesday night. That, however, was only the start of the weird path I was about to set off on; a path that would take me to a place where reality collides with magic, where I find out everything I knew about the world I lived in was a lie, and where I'm the only woman present.

  There are five of them - five of the most interesting, sexy, and probably dangerous men I have ever met. They live in a mansion in the middle of rural Germany, a mansion protected by magic. And they tell me not only do they have supernatural abilities, but that I have them too, and they're here to help pull them out of me. Sounds like a dream, until that catch comes up.

  Supernaturals are being hunted down for the energy they possess, myself especially, and if they don't act fast to bring me into the fold, a fate worse than death awaits all of us.

  But triggering my supernatural side to come out won't be easy, not before I'm ready, and when the hunters step up their game and the window starts to close, it'll take everything I have in me just to stay alive; no matter how many men would put their lives on the line to protect me.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Dante

  It was late. The mall, including the store Hot Topic where I was working tonight, would be shutting down in about ten minutes, and I was on closing duty. That meant I had it all to myself, which also meant I could play my own music, I could organize things the way I wanted to, and I could do it with virtually no chance of random people walking into the store. A small luxury, sure, but one I was more than happy to enjoy as I went around the store restocking racks of superhero, My Little Pony, and other cartoon themed t-shirts and merchandise.

  I grabbed the last of the Captain America t-shirts and was placing them one by one on the rack closest to the door when a shiver crawled up my spine, causing me to shudder slightly. I turned to face the shop doors, but there wasn’t anyone there. No one watching me, at least, which had been my impression. The night watchman passed by just then, his white buttoned-down shirt nearly bursting at the seams from the size of his gut. He leered at me and smiled from behind a thick, unkempt beard. I cringed and turned back to the rack.

  I didn’t have time for him tonight. Every night was the same deal with him, with Wesley. Poor bastard. He was harmless, I was sure, but I didn’t like the way he undressed me with his eyes whenever he saw me. It made me want to stab him in the throat with a hanger. So what if I had a nice ass and toned abs? I worked out, and I liked showing my body off, but there was a difference between appreciating and objectifying.

  Sighing, I finished setting the clothes on the rack and was heading for the counter to close the cash register down when the shiver returned, this time more powerful than it had been before. I looked up at the door just as my heart began to race, expecting—hoping—to see no one there, but someone had come into the store. Only, it wasn’t at all the kind of person I’d ever seen walk into a Hot Topic before.

  Unless he was buying something for a relative.

  Instead of calling out to him and telling him we were about to close, I decided to watch the man. Wearing a suit easily worth more than my car, he was walking around browsing… a Hot Topic… minutes before closing. I grabbed a pad and pen and quickly got to work on some doodles, making myself look busy while also occasionally stealing glances and trying to figure him out.

  He was tall, probably five foot eleven, and wore a suit clinging to his body in a color that wasn’t quite black—probably called something like charcoal or graphite in GQ. He had short, black hair parted to one side, but it wasn’t in a slicked and greasy looking way. His eyes were bourbon-brown and almond shaped, and the more I looked at them the more I could imagine them bearing down on me from across a desk in some corporate office, letting me know he meant business without having to even say a word. But the feature that kept my gaze coming back for more was the shape of his jaw—so defined, and sharp, and cleanly shaven.

  I’d never been the kind of girl to like the look of a man in a suit. Not only because men in suits were usually assholes who wouldn’t look twice at a girl like me, but because I just didn’t like the aesthetic. I liked a guy who had tattoos, a guy whose shirt had more than a couple of holes in it, a guy whose eyes spoke of pain, depth, and experience. It helped that they were usually the kind of guys interested in a woman like me; five foot six, dark hair, tattoos, daddy issues, and a ton of debt. Rabble, basically.

  I kinda hoped he would just leave, but when he caught me stealing a glance at him, everything I knew fell away like a song playing in a passing car. Sparks didn’t exactly fly, but a warm wave pushed through me, filling my insides, flushing blood to my cheeks, and causing me to almost forget myself.

  “We’re closing,” I called out from across the shop, wanting to make it look like I had a purpose in staring at him.

  Talking to him, though, had the opposite effect of what I wanted. He started to move toward the counter, his smile growing with every step until I could see his neat, pearly white teeth. “I’ll be out of your hair quickly, I promise,” he said in a low, husky voice, “I’m looking for something in particular. I was hoping you could help me.”

  Flicking my dark hair over from one shoulder to the other, I stared at him with an arched eyebrow. “Alright,” I said, “What is it you need? You looked a little lost up there.”

  He smiled brighter this time, exposing the dimples on his cheeks. “You’re not wrong there; thi
s isn’t my kind of place.”

  “I thought you looked a little old to be shopping at a Hot Topic.”

  “Old? How old do you think I am?”

  “I don’t know. Forty?” I was being mean. He didn’t look forty. He was, I suspected, in his late twenties, thirty at a push.

  A smirk manifested on his lips. “I didn’t think Hot Topic had an age limit.”

  He could take a joke; that was something I could respect. “It doesn’t,” I said, smiling at him. “So, what is it you’re looking for?”

  He scanned the store; his eyes circled around for a short while before falling on the wallets in the display case under the counter, and then they rose slowly to meet my eyes and stopped. What the hell is this guy’s deal? I had no idea who he was, didn’t know his name or what he wanted, but he had a weird energy around him I almost couldn’t pull away from. Almost. The grin on his face allowed me to anticipate what he was going to say next without him having to say it.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “What?” he asked, still smiling.

  “You’re going to pull the you’re what I came in here looking for line on me?”

  He let his forearm rest on the display case, turned his head to the side, licked his lips, and then looked at me again. Only this time, the smile had transformed into a smirk. “If it works.”

  “You expect me to believe you just decided to take time out of your busy night to come and flirt with the Hot Topic girl?”

  “I didn’t come here expecting anything, but I did notice you, and I thought I’d come and introduce myself.”

  “Funny, because you haven’t given me your name yet.”

  He straightened out and extended his hand. “I’m Dante Rhodes.”

  I stared at his hand, noticing the way his watch reflected the light from the fluorescents above, and then noticed something peculiar; he had a strange mark partially concealed by his cuff and the watch. A tattoo? I reached for his hand, and when I took it, something definitely passed through us. It was a current, but it was also more than just that. I’d touched people before and received a jolt of energy that made me feel warm and giddy. However, this almost made me go weak in the knees. It took every ounce of strength I had to keep from collapsing like a house of cards.

  “I’m Lilith,” I said, keeping my composure up despite the thousands of volts of energy coursing through my system. “Lilith Palmer.”

  “Lilith Palmer,” Dante said, “That’s a beautiful name. Why’d your parents choose Lilith?”

  “I don’t know. My parents were fuck ups, and fucked up people tend to be pretty religious, I guess.”

  A twinkle appeared in his light brown eyes as our hands separated. “What time do you get off work, Lilith?”

  My heart was pulsing rapidly, my body experiencing aftershocks from that brief moment of contact. It was almost as if I could taste him. But I put on my game face. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I’d like to invite you to come for a drink with me. I feel like we have a lot we could talk about.”

  “Really? I don’t think I’m that impressive.”

  “You and I both know that’s not true.”

  “I don’t think I know what you’re talking about. Anyway, I’ll be meeting my boyfriend after, so…”

  “Boyfriend…”

  “Yeah, he’s six foot three, drives a Harley, and has a criminal record.”

  Lame, I thought, lame, lame, lame. But he seemed to buy it, or at least, understood what I meant when I put that shield up. There was no boyfriend, admittedly. All that remained of him were a few pictures on my phone—pictures I hadn’t yet purged and would find their way to the surface only when I’d had a few too many shots of Jack Daniel’s to think straight. These drunken trips down memory lane would spur me into calling him, but I could never remember the next day what was said.

  “Fair enough,” Dante said as he slowly backed away. “Well, if you happen to change your mind…”

  “Please don’t wait for me in the parking lot.”

  Amusement showed on his face at my attempt to rebuke his advances. I wasn’t sure if I was turned on or deathly afraid of him, but I was feeling something, and I wanted it to stop. When he left the store, disappearing as mysteriously as he had arrived, my heart finally began to calm down. I waited, watching the door for almost a full minute to ensure Dante wasn’t going to return, before I allowed myself to get back to my duties. The store wasn’t going to close itself.

  But first, my hand decided to—of its own volition—pluck my phone out of my pocket, unlock the screen, and scroll through my recent calls. There, buried some ten entries below calls to different takeout places, was an entry labelled Dick (not because that was short for Richard).

  I glanced at the door again, then back at the phone. This Dante hadn’t been the first to make a pass at me, not at all. And I wasn’t the kind of girl who needed protection. But hearing someone’s familiar voice, having someone on the phone while I left the building, probably wasn’t a bad idea. I didn’t have family to call, or friends for that matter.

  “What the fuck am I doing?” I asked myself, and I put the phone back into my pocket feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. I had work to finish up, and then I was going to go home, order takeout, and spend the night watching shitty reality TV.

  Surely that was a better idea than taking whatever Dante was really offering.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Hunters

  It was a weird situation to be in, to feel comforted by the fact that Wesley was by my side as I walked out of the store. After what had just happened, having someone—anyone—around really was a comfort. I almost couldn’t believe I had thought about calling Dick. And for what? So he could come over here, be the macho man, and then try and get a piece of me as compensation?

  No thanks.

  “So, you got any big plans for tonight?” Wesley asked, “Night club? Rave? Party on a yacht?”

  “Party at a yacht?” I asked, half-laughing, “Do you really think I’m the kind of girl who goes to parties on yachts?”

  “I don’t know. I just think, you know, you—you’re pretty, and you probably have a lot of friends who party, and—”

  “Relax, I was joking.”

  “Oh… right, good one.”

  The automatic doors at the end of the hall opened, and the cool night air touched my face with all the eagerness of someone awaiting a good friend’s arrival. “Anyway, you have a good night,” I said, “If I do end up on a yacht, I’ll be sure to take pictures.”

  Wesley nodded and waved from where he stood. He would never walk me to my car—it was probably too far for him to walk. He merely stood at the door and watched until I got to my car. Then he would go back inside and continue doing whatever it was his nightly duties as mall security entailed. It was the same tonight. I saw him watching me as I walked along the parking lot, and I could feel his eyes on me even as I reached into my purse for my keys. My spine tingled as a current, a shiver, worked through it. Suddenly, the thought of Wesley still watching me made me want to scream at him.

  Turning around, I noticed Wesley wasn’t at the door anymore. In fact, the parking lot was empty save for the pair of crows sitting silently atop a street light. There was no sound except the wind agitating the nearby trees. I swallowed, pushed the rising pinch of panic down, and unlocked my car door. Mister Suit had spooked me, that was all. We had touched, something had passed between us, and my body was still jumpy from the aftershocks. Nothing more.

  I had just put my keys in the ignition when my instincts told me that something wasn’t right. The silhouettes of two people moving through the parking lot came into view. I couldn’t find the words to say to myself that would help calm my beating heart because they weren’t just walking around the parking lot looking for their car. They were heading directly toward me, moving like they had a purpose.

  “Shit,” I said under my breath. It could have been nothing, but I’d had enough
tonight and wasn’t willing to take a risk.

  Determined to leave and go home, I turned the key, but the engine whined and choked and sputtered. I groaned, then tried again, mentally cursing the piece of shit car that only started when it wanted to. For three weeks the check engine light had been on, and for three weeks I’d ignored it, but the car had always started. Now, no matter what I did, it wasn’t starting up, and those guys were getting close. Too close.

  I couldn’t see their faces, the parking lot was too dark, but they were starting to speed up as they closed in on my location. After trying to crank the engine a fourth time and failing, I locked the door, pulled my phone out of my pocket, and dialed 911. The phone rang only once before the operator answered.

  “911, what is your emergency?” the almost electronic voice asked from the other side of the line.

  “I’m in a car, there are two guys, and—”

  The phone suddenly shrieked in my ear, forcing me to jerk it away from my head and wince from the pain. Even with the phone held a few feet away from me, I could still hear that sharp, rusty sound like two pieces of sheet metal scraping together coming through the speaker. Then the sound stopped, the screen died, and when I went to wake the phone up again, it wouldn’t respond. It was dead, just like the car.

  My heart was running away with my imagination at breakneck speed. First, I got the shivers, then the car choked and died, and now the phone. Did those guys have anything to do with it? How? Shit, now what? Before my mind could object, I reached for the glove compartment and yanked out the pepper spray. I was removing the cap and getting it ready to use when I observed one of the men who was approaching the car break into a sprint, and then he leapt halfway across the parking lot.

  I screamed as I saw him sailing through the air toward my windshield and put my hands up to protect my face. He landed on the hood of the car with all the force of ten bowling balls, causing the hood to crunch and bend inward and the car’s back wheels to momentarily lift off the ground before slamming back down. I rocked in my seat and grabbed the steering wheel, more out of instinct than logical thought.