House of Agni

Chapter 1

Emrys

Not guilty. The courtroom broke out into applause as if this were a televised celebrity hearing. There were handshakes and hugs and words of congratulations. I was not at all surprised that our team won. The evidence against the accuser was monumental, and there was no way he could refute it.

Now he was going to live in poverty for his lies since he was responsible for a boatload of money he didn’t have to begin with for false accusations, lawyer’s fees, and damages. I was pretty sure my team was going to counter sue for defamation as well.

Some people were just too stupid to be cons. If you’re going to lie and sue one of the biggest corporations in the northern hemisphere, then you best have a solid fucking case. This man had a hole in his case bigger than that which downed the Titanic. Not even kidding.

“Nice job, Mr. Morgan,” one of my partners said, offering me his hand and gripping my shoulder. It was a struggle to keep my fire down and not burn the man. Fortunately, nonsupernaturals had the uncanny (and rather stupid) ability to explain away everything. Including another man’s touch that could leave them with third-degree burns or worse. “There really wasn’t any doubt.”

I nodded, pumping his hand. “You did a good job. Nice solid defense. When will you be serving the papers?”

Our business had exploded in the last two years. Since I was one of three partners in the law firm, I didn’t generally take cases much anymore. Instead, I got a cut of everyone else’s wins. However, I usually sat in on the big ones.

My partners, Stout and Yvoric, were still very active in the cases which allowed me to tend to our business as a whole. It’s not that I didn’t love driving people into the ground, but especially this last year, I was afraid if I lost my temper, I’d set a courthouse on fire.

That would be a little difficult to explain away.

As if thinking about how arduous this last year had been had invited more drama, my phone pinged. Reflex made me pull it out and after seeing who it was, I tensed. I hadn’t seen them in well over a year now; not since they demanded that I take the Harem Project questionnaire to make sure I matched with them.

Even so, Iskander messaged me at least once a day. And still my stomach flipped with that familiar sick feeling. Hurt coiled in my chest as if it were a house fire reaching out to devour anything its fingers could touch.

Without opening the message and clearing the notification on the screen, I pocketed my phone before turning to one of the lawyers on the case. “I’m going to head out. Enjoy the celebration.”

“Thanks, man. We appreciate you coming to support us.”

I smiled and turned for the door, bringing my scarf around my neck and heading into the mid-summer sun. Why the scarf? Because my human skin was far too sensitive for this weather. If it burned, my feathers would shine through like I was a fucking burning star. Yep, I didn’t want to walk down the sidewalk on fire. That tended to cause alarm.

This I knew from experience. That was a fun day as a six-year-old. Since then, I have covered my skin no matter the temperature.

Fortunately, since I was made of fire anyway, I rarely got overheated by the sun. Biology and I weren’t the best of friends, but it had something to do with fiery down insulation that allowed me to control my own body temperature. This was a blessing and a curse.

When I was mad, the fire burned just below the surface. It could get hot enough that my skin would glow with the fire underneath.

It was a struggle I’d dealt with for the better part of a year now.

My phone pinged again, and I pressed my lips together as I stepped into my car. Pulling my phone out, I saw another notification from Iskander. He was the only one of the family that was firmly supportive of me not having to match them through the questionnaire.

The thing is, I took the questionnaire, but I never looked at the results. Deep down, I already knew that they wouldn’t be in my life. A family filled with sea monsters when I was made of fire? Maybe I already knew that I didn’t belong there. Maybe this was for the best.

I’d stopped talking to the rest of them months ago. After another argument, I tried to cut ties completely. Then Imani came to my house and said that perhaps we didn’t need to match. Maybe they made a mistake in demanding that.

My response? I moved so she no longer knew where I lived. If my life wasn’t so tied to my phone, I’d have changed my number too.

Five of them got the hint. Iskander had not.

I wasn’t surprised. We met first. We fell in love first. I think he was just as devastated and heartbroken when Imani brought up the matching questionnaire.

Swiping the notification off the screen, I stuck my phone into its cradle and started the car. I intended to go home. To strip and stand under burning hot water until my skin was practically melting. If it wasn’t just a mirage, it probably would have to some extent. I’d be covered in burns at any rate.

Instead, I found myself parking in front of the local Harem Project branch. Without even putting my car into park, I sat there and stared. I wanted my family. I wanted to feel like I was wanted. I needed to belong somewhere.

I needed someone to celebrate my wins with and to hold me when I was feeling worthless. I needed to know someone wanted me, no matter what a fucking test said.

Yet, I knew that the questionnaire was going to find that family for me. It was such a fucking point of contention in me that I was too conflicted about it to go back. The family that I’d thought was mine had been able to turn me away because they needed a computer’s damn proof that their love for me was real.

It wasn’t like they were the first to throw me away, either. They were just the latest. Part of the reason I didn’t go back to see the results was because I was too afraid that there wouldn’t be any. Maybe I was going to break some record and the administrative manager on duty would come in and say, “I’ve never seen this happen before. You’re the very first. There must be some glitch in the system because no results came up.”

Logically, I knew that wasn’t going to happen.

But there was something else. The voice of the man who I’d met when I went in to take the questionnaire for the first time. Answering the questions in the state I’d walked in meant I’d not necessarily be as honest as I needed to be. That fear kept me away.

It’s kept me away for more than a year. I’ve done everything possible to not even drive down this street and pass the building.

So why was I sitting outside it right now?

I just came off a big case. My bank account just got fatter. I should be celebrating. Instead, I’m sitting outside the building that broke the last tether to the relationships I thought were the ones I was meant to be with. I thought that I’d finally found unconditional love. A home.

The AM had been right, though. Even before he said the words, I’d already known. If they’d asked me to take the test for confirmation that I belonged to them, then I really didn’t. They weren’t my family.

Maybe it was the heartbreak of once again being rejected. Of something I was so sure about being ripped away, leaving another lashing on top of the others that never healed.

Hearing his words had been the final blow to end my relationship. When I left the Kaiyo’s, we’d agreed that it was a temporary goodbye because I’d take the questionnaire and see that they made the cut. Even with Iskander promising me this over and over, I could feel his fear and fury. His fear that I wouldn’t be coming back. His fury that his family was responsible for this.

The thing that really stung was that they weren’t all matched through the Harem Project database. And they didn’t all go there to test for the affirmation that they belonged together. To me, that meant one or more of them didn’t want me there. I was fine to fool around with and promise empty plans for the future to, but when it came time to get serious, they didn’t want me.

When I blinked away the hurt and anger that surged to the surface again, I was standing inside the waiting room. Looking around, it was the same as the last time I was here. The only difference being the person behind the desk.

It was still a man, but not the pretty blond. This one was a… fae? I tilted my head until the air around him flickered and sparkled. Yep, fae.

“Hi,” he greeted me with a smile. “I’m Lieke. Welcome to The Harem Project. How can I help you?”

I shook my head and took a few steps towards him. When did I even walk inside? “I… don’t know,” I admitted.

Lieke nodded and gestured to the chair. I nearly fell into it. He moved toward a cabinet and opened one, returning to me with a cold bottle of water. Offering it across the desk, he sat. “You’re looking a little… hot.”

I glanced at my hand to see a fiery orange sheen to my skin. Frowning, I accepted the bottle of water, though that didn’t really cool me down. I stood in the sun too long. How fucking long was I outside the door? Jesus, what’s fucking wrong with me?

Lieke watched me as I took several sips and concentrated on pushing the fire back. Because I was literally made of fire, it took a fair amount of control to get it to settle when I was not feeling particularly steady on my feet.

It was a dangerous thing to be in the world we’re currently living in and fire monsters were public enemy number… Well, I supposed all monsters were just pretty much public enemies at this point.

“Want to talk?” Lieke asked.

I shrugged and set the bottle down. “I was here a year ago,” I told him. “Emrys.” Lieke nodded as if he knew that. Maybe he did. I couldn’t remember all the talents a fae had. “I just… maybe I’m ready to see my results now.”

Lieke smiled and got to his feet. I watched as he opened a cabinet, but paused. “A year ago, Emrys?”

I nodded.

“Would you like to look at your questionnaire again before you review the results? A lot can change in a year.”

Smirking, I nodded. “Yes, that would be appreciated. Thanks.”

He smiled, and I watched as his hand shifted to the higher shelf. Pulling out a tablet, he turned it on as he came back toward me. Pointing the screen in my direction, there was a square waiting for me to look into it. Once my face appeared in the camera, blue and purple lines mapped all my facial features.

Then my profile popped up.

“New technology,” Lieke said, pulling it around to tap through something. Maybe opening it up for editing. “We like to keep our programs improving and your privacy is always very important.”

“Thanks,” I said.

He smiled, even as he moved through screens on the tablet. When he was finished, he looked at me, still smiling. “Right this way. I’ll get you settled.”

I followed him through a door that looked like a panel in the wall. The hall was a cross between something you might find in a hotel and a modern corporate building. All the doors had plaques, naming the suites within. Between every three or four rooms we passed was a window that overlooked different landscapes. It was proof enough to me that at least a handful of these sites were connected through some magic.

We stopped at Draco 8 and Lieke opened the door. The room looked pretty much the same as the last room I was in. Comfortable as I might be here for a while. Considering it took me nine hours the first time to get through it, I didn’t doubt I might be here just as long.

Lieke handed me the tablet. “Do you remember the guidelines from when you went through this initially?”

“Honesty to the point where I’m uncomfortable,” I said.

He smiled. “Yes, exactly. Since the questionnaire updates constantly based on what the bot thinks might be helpful and what programmers agree to add, you might find entirely new sections or just a few questions throughout that haven’t been answered. This isn’t anything to be concerned about that you didn’t answer them. There have been routine improvements. I’ll also remind you that you’re not required to finish it in one sitting. And we’ve added a feature where you can go back to a certain section if you remember something and want to add it where you think it best pertains. I’m actually really happy about that feature; I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard the complaint that someone has forgotten something and now can’t add it.”

“Editing should have been one of the first features, no?” I asked.

He shrugged. “One might think, but I suppose the thought behind not being able to edit is that you don’t have a chance to second guess what you’re typing. It was to facilitate honesty and not censoring what you initially entered.”

“That was a lot of pressure,” I said. “I bet people took extra time on each question because they knew they couldn’t go back.”

Lieke nodded. “Yep. Time’s cut down considerably, though it’s still on average five and a half hours.”

“I bet it would be less if you offered keyboards,” I said.

Though it was a joke, he grinned. “I have Bluetooth keyboards for those who request one.”

My brows shot up, and I laughed. “I… that might have been helpful initially, but since I’m just editing, I don’t know that it’s necessary, but thanks.”

“I find that it’s a generational thing. The younger generation grew up typing on screens where the older had keyboards. If I think to offer it, I do. You’d be surprised by the amount of those who ask for one, though.”

“Good to know.”

Lieke smiled and headed for the door. “Feel free to stretch your legs and raid the fridge. Give us a call if you get hungry and we’ll get some food delivered. You’re also welcome to take a nap if you get tired. All the things.” He waved a hand.

I nodded, and he left me in the quiet room. Looking around, I noted how different I felt this time. Maybe it wasn’t a conscious decision to come here, but it was a choice this time. I was not here proving to anyone that I belonged with them or that I didn’t.

But maybe I was here to prove to myself that I was right for someone. Whether they wanted me was an entirely different thing.