Rift Magic: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Fantasy Romance

By Margo Bond Collins

Sometimes, magic can rip you in half.

A year ago, my brother Brodric set out on a Rift-quest to activate his latent magical genes. 

He disappeared without a trace.

So now I'm following him, headed to Brochan City, the abandoned site of the strongest Rift activity in the land. 

Along the way, I met up with a refugee from another world, tossed upon our shores like Rift-borne trash. Coit's too naïve to survive this world easily, but he's a good brawler. And the other pilgrims I've picked up in my travels? They might be useful, too. 

I'll never admit out loud that I'm beginning to care for them.

I'm hoping to send Coit back to his world and get my brother back. Sometimes the Rift allows trades like that. 

Sometimes it simply drives petitioners mad.

If we're lucky, that's the worst its magic will do.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Margo Bond Collins
• Release date: Dec 29, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393937098

Book preview

Chapter 1

T hem werewolves is a buncha A-holes!

From his position in the middle of the bar, Coit Dugger—named, as he was so fond of telling people, after the road where he had been conceived, far on the other side of the Rift—held up a tanker of what passed for the local beer and called for a toast.

At least, that’s what he would’ve said he was doing.

Coit wasn’t entirely wrong, either. As far as I had ever been able to tell, werewolves were, by and large, unpleasant to deal with. And in his own, inimitable way, Coit’s announcement of the fact was a kind of homage.

Unfortunately for him, however, he was smack dab in the middle of a werewolf bar.

All around him, ears in various stages of pointy-ness perked up as their owners’ heads swiveled toward my partner.

Well, hell.

One of the men seated in a chair around a small table dropped his elbows onto his knees, and I could see his snout starting to elongate, even as his teeth sharpened. I couldn’t focus on the hands dangling between his knees—they blurred back and forth between fingers and paws. I could tell with a glance which of the wolves in the room had more control over their shapes. Experience told me that in some ways, those were the truly dangerous ones. The impulsive shifters were prone to making mistakes. The rest weren’t.

What? Coit slurred, staggering up to a barrel-shaped wolf shifter still in human form and tapping him on the chest. Hell, they’d tell you themselves. Ain’t a one of them would deny it, neither. Right?

I turned my stool around to face the bulk of the room, leaning back on the bar with one elbow. With that hand, I swirled my drink around lazily, using the motion to hide the way I was spooling my magic in case I needed it. Or more to the point, in case my partner did.

It was a risk, using magic this close to the Rift, but I felt responsible. I had been too busy chatting up the bartender, hoping to find a guide who would take us closer, and I hadn’t paid attention to what Coit was doing—which, as it turned out, was drinking the place dry.

Once I had the power prepped, I pushed up off the bar and dropped my feet to the floor. I could feel the energy I’d held onto crackling, arcing between my fingertips, so as I pushed into the center of the circle that was rapidly forming around Coit, I used that hand to pull my hat off my head. The motion would create a distraction in a couple of different ways, I knew from experience. I mostly liked to use the hat to shield my hand from view.

But the sight of my long, blonde hair cascading down from where it had been contained inside the hat didn’t hurt, either—especially not in a place this rough, this close to the Rift.

Gentlemen, I said with a slight dip, somewhere between a bow and a curtsy, please excuse my brother. As I’m sure you can tell, he has had far too much of your fine local brew to drink tonight. Also—I lowered my voice almost to a whisper, opened my eyes wide, and leaned forward, looking around and inviting them to lean toward me, as well—he’s more than a little Rift Cursed. Keeping my eyes wide, I nodded and blinked twice.

Several of them were nodding with me.

I had them.

Now, if Coit will stay quiet a little bit longer, I’ll be able to get us out of here.

It was a ruse we had played before. When he was sober, Coit understood the importance of all the pieces. Telling them he was my brother invoked a familial restraint on them—only the most asocial of males would attack a female in the presence of her brother. At the same time, letting them know about his Rift Curse freed Coit from a number of social constraints, often allowing us to do whatever we needed to in a given situation.

Granted, more often than not that meant thievery of some kind, mostly food or drink.

In the midst of a wolfman bar, it could have meant a smooth, easy escape.

If only Coit had kept his mouth shut.

I am not Rift Cursed, Coit said belligerently. Not everybody who falls through the Rift ends up cursed. His mouth tightened. Ain’t your brother, neither.

Oh, you bloody idiot, I breathed, grabbing his hand and jerking him backward out of the circle with me. At the same moment, I let loose with a blast of spooled magic from my hand, through my hat.

The hat flew out several feet with the force of the blast, then hovered in the air as the bright blue-white lights shot through it in a single beam before branching out to spear through the most intimidating ones of the bunch.

I allowed myself a tiny sigh.

That had been my favorite hat.

Everyone not pinned by an electrical flash stood stock-still in apparent shock, long enough for me to tie off the spell and grab our saddlebags from the floor next to my barstool. The magic would hold long enough for us to grab our horses. I just hoped the stable boy was as lazy as he had looked and hadn’t scattered our gear too far, or we might have to leave some of it behind again.

And I was going to need a new hat.

Again.

Chapter 2

L arkin? Coit said as we galloped away from the bar. All our gear had, thankfully, been intact.

Yes. My reply was sharp and short.

I’m sorry.

I sighed. I know you are, Coit.

But sorry didn’t fix our problem.

We needed a guide to the Rift, and we needed one soon.

When no one had followed us after several minutes, I blew my breath out in relief. After all, I knew we weren’t worth chasing down. But reason wasn’t always a werewolf’s strong suit.

I was about to rein my horse in and slow down when I heard the howling of the wolves behind us.

The noise was far too similar to the sound of the baying of dogs for my comfort.

I couldn’t even blame Coit—he was a Rifter, pulled in from some other world and dropped here, like trash from a Rift-current.

He didn’t know the rules.

And though we’d been traveling together for almost a month, that wasn’t enough time to teach him a lifetime’s worth of survival skills.

He was a good brawler, though—and that was the main reason he was still alive.

Well, that and his desire to find his way back to his own world.

I needed to keep him safe. If, as I suspected, my brother Brodric had gotten swept away by a Rift-current, Coit was the one thing I might be able to trade to get him back.

So when yet another werewolf stepped out of the darkness in front of us on the one road heading out of town, it was almost instinct to cut my horse in front of Coit’s to protect him.

Almost.

The wolfman, still in his half-shifted form, held up both hands, palm outward, in that almost universal sign of peace.

Come with me, he said. I can get you out of here.

Coit and I traded suspicious glances. Apparently, the cool air and the frantic ride out through the cobblestone streets of the wolves’ hamlet had done a lot to sober him up.

Too bad he couldn’t have been this cautious before he pissed off a bar full of the wolfmen.

This one was still gesturing at us to get off our horses. There’s no way you can outrun them. So— he paused, a funny little grin ghosting across his face —come with me if you want to live.

Coit’s bark of laughter startled, me, but he was already dismounting. Favorite movie, man.

The werewolf grinned, flashing his canines in a way that made me anxious. Never thought I’d say it and mean it.

Crap. Another Rifter. I glared at Coit. You told me you didn’t have shapeshifters in your world.

Wasn’t a shapeshifter before I got here, the wolfman said. He touched his forehead and waved his hand in a little two-fingered salute. Rafe Conway, ma’am. Nice to meet you.

I sighed and dismounted, hoping I wasn’t making a really stupid mistake. But I had to try to keep Coit alive. And Rafe the werewolf was right—no way would we be able to outrun a pack in a full-on pursuit.

The only thing that had saved us so far was the advantage my spell had given us.

Why should we trust you? I asked.

He held one hand out toward me as if asking me to take it. Please, he said.

A wave of something powerful passed through me. At first, I thought it came from Rafe, but when I used my fingers to weave a small magic-detection spell and rubbed it across my eyes, it showed a halo of magic around Rafe, not emanating from him.

Whatever this was, the werewolf wasn’t doing it. I