Soul Enslaved (Sons of Wrath Book 3) (10 page)

BOOK: Soul Enslaved (Sons of Wrath Book 3)
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From the crowd, Gina pranced up to him. How odd. Like a kitten approaching a lion, because even
common
Gavin exuded a certain regal mannerism. Then he smiled. That perfect, flawless smile came courtesy of the only other female Sabelle truly couldn’t stand, aside from her own mother.

The ache of resentment settled inside her stomach.

Stop, Sabelle
.
Jealous much?

Gina took a sip from his beer and gave a flirtatious flip of her hair.

No.

Sabelle had every intention of marching straight up to her, making damn sure Gina knew Sabelle wouldn’t be paying to watch her get shit-faced on Heineken.

Lights dimmed. The noise tapered off. Gavin searched the crowd, and his gaze immediately landed on her.

Just her luck that, at that very moment, the spotlight also happened to find her, as well.

Dammit.

The not-so-super-fun perk of working at
Mel’s on Six
happened to be the random expectation for each waitress to spontaneously climb up on a bar table and dance, when summoned by that ever-annoying spotlight.

“Sabelle! Get your ass on a table and show us what you’ve got, girl!”

Sean, the DJ for the club, would pay soon as she got a chance.

Physical (You’re So)
by Nine Inch Nails pulsed through the speakers.

She rubbed her face.
Cocksucker.
Of course he’d pick a nice, slow song. The joke was how much Sabelle hated doing the shit, and they always seemed to pick the songs that left her having to sex it up.

Her nostrils flared, and she diverted her gaze to the floor, not bothering to look at Gavin. Gods, the humiliation. He’d never made her dance at
Sanctuary
, when she worked as a dealer and waitress. In fact,
Sanctuary
girls were treated like gold—protected by security and the Brothers, paid better than any club in the state, and never asked to do stupid shit in public. Like climb atop a table, where a bevy of drunken hyenas would be eager for a crotch shot. Dancing in a place like
Mel’s
, which had no
actual
dancers, meant decent tips, though, and she sure as hell could use the extra cash with Gavin around.

Furiously rubbing the back of her neck, Sabelle sniffed then propped her stiletto up onto the chair and sashayed herself onto the tabletop, looking down at a flock of drunks she tried
not
to imagine grabbing her ankles. It was them, or the bikers at the next table over, and those dudes were always unpredictable.

Relax.

Always tough when nearly all eyes in the bar had anchored in her direction.

Shit.

She caught sight of Gavin off in the corner, surrounded by women. Always surrounded by women, it seemed. Yet, somehow, the way he stared back spoke to her.
Those eyes. So blue
. Riveted on her. As if nothing and no one else in the room existed. His gaze pierced deep, carrying a message to her soul. A warning? Maybe, except the way he licked his lips cast a shiver down her spine, and that tingly warmth she’d felt earlier in the kitchen with him heated her blood once more.

She closed her eyes and let the music flow through her, holding onto a lingering image of Gavin toying with her mind.

Why not Gavin?

The male had the kind of features you’d remember long after staring at him. His body reminded her of an expensive sports car. A powerful machine. Perfectly carved muscle, broad shoulders that ended in a tight V to his ass, powerful thighs that promised precise control and a slow, steady thrust.

Seeing him naked in the shower had just about unraveled her.

Biting her lip, she imagined the celestial blue of his eyes swallowing her body and let her hands wander her curves, as she dipped and oscillated her hips to the beat of the music.

The railing of the song’s guitar slithered down her spine like fingertips, and she arched into it, letting the underlying base pound in her thighs as she pumped her body and whipped her hair around like a crown of flames. Hands grasping either side of her skull, gripping tight to her hair, she bit the inner flesh of her bicep, imagining herself atop of Gavin’s thighs, riding him with abandon.

So much easier than trying to come up with something sexy on her own.

The music ended in eerie silence, and Sabelle opened her eyes to slackened jaws. The man below her had grabbed his junk and sat squeezing, eyes agape.

Oh, no. Oh, shit. Oh … shit.

A scent penetrated her nose—one she knew all too well—one every succubus could pick up on like a hound on a rabbit trail. Arousal. Yeah, her dances sometimes ended in a few gropes and flirtations, but the way the crowd stared back—pupils dilated, chests rising and falling with rapid breaths, and damn, the dude across the table had drool seeping from his mouth—it was obvious. She’d given off some of her heat. When aroused themselves, succubi had the power to cast their energy onto a victim. Casting took a lot of effort, and often, it came off as a weak signal, which happened to be why most succubi couldn’t seduce demons. Somehow, Sabelle had managed to cast the whole goddamn bar.

Which meant? The mob of lust-hungry men and women, stalking her every move like cats out for the same unwitting mouse, were probably plotting how to screw her against a wall without screwing her right through it.

With slow, cautious steps, she descended from the table to the chair, muscles flaming with tension.
Nothing to see here. Just an asshole looking for the quickest exit.

The only sound, aside from the cringe-worthy click of her heels, were the grunts and heavy breaths from the males she’d stood over two seconds ago—the ones who were probably about a second from unraveling into sexually charged barbarians who’d lick her flesh from the bone.

Once amid the crowd, legs primed to spring into action, Sabelle backed herself toward the entrance of the bar. Slow. Calm. Resisting the urge to break into a dead run.

Fucking idiot, Sabelle.

She’d danced a number of times and never gave off her succubus heat. Like a blanket of lust, it put both males and females into a sexual trance. Making it dangerous and deadly.

The first hand gripped tight to her wrist, and Sabelle spun, swinging. Fist smashed cartilage, and the blood sprayed from the towering brute’s nose.

Unfazed by her defenses, the stranger’s finger snaked into the crack of her booty shorts and slid down, his fat palm squeezing her ass.

Sabelle pushed off from him and hammered another fist into his gut, doubling him over for a moment before massive arms gripped her waist and the crowd lurched into a maelstrom of hands reaching, groping, pushing, pulling.

A shout of, “She’s fucking
mine
first!” had her pulse lurching harder. Sabelle screamed and kicked out, punching as her body was hefted, dropped and tugged.

Her heart raced.

Her view waned.

Until she was scared shitless.

A male from behind lifted her off the floor, pinning both hands at her sides. Ramming her heel into his shin did nothing to stop him from carrying her against the throng reaching out for her.

A scan of her surroundings showed bodies being thrown, cast aside. She jabbed her stiletto into her captor’s kneecap, cringing at the outcry in her ear, as she fell to the floor once more.

Spinning brought her face to face with Gavin, whose eyes had turned a glowing red. Gods, the relief of seeing him nearly buckled her knees, and she blew out a shaky breath … unless he’d come to stake his claim, like the rest of them.

Her body stiffened at the thought, but he gave one earnest raise of his brow that signaled some sanity—coherence in his actions—and hefted her over his shoulder. Whether he planned to steal her like the others, or not, didn’t matter at that point. She’d take her chances with Gavin.

Pushing through the hostile swarm, Gavin carried Sabelle King-Kong style—even growling at the oncoming lust zombies. She craned her head to the side, catching sight of the punch he issued to the brute from earlier before throwing the dude she’d presumed to be demon, seeing as he hadn’t crumbled to dust with that punch, back into the bar amid shattering glass.

Bodies gyrated. Hands groped.

She squealed at a sharp pain on her backside, and twisted to see Gavin nail Cap across the jaw after he’d bitten her ass. Slumped on the floor, the bartender rubbed his cheek, as Sabelle passed him, shaking her head in disapproval.

Cool air finally blasted against her skin until, at last, she was thrown into the vehicle. The males had exited the bar after the two of them, and as Gavin backed the car out, they lurched toward them. One leapt onto the hood of the car, slipping off as the vehicle squealed backward out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

She tucked her head into her knees, wishing she could curl into an invisible ball. “Oh, shit. I’m so fired. I’m so done.”

“What happened in there?”

“I fucked up. That’s what happened.” She didn’t dare say it was a fantasy of Gavin that somehow sparked the whole fiasco.

“Does that happen often?”

“No. Never. I don’t know what came over me.” She cleared her throat and rubbed a hand down her face. “I never even collected my tips. Fuck.” Sabelle kicked herself back against the seat. “So much for groceries this week.” she muttered.

“Sabelle. Use the card. Quit being so stubborn.”

A glance to the side showed his eyes to be their normal blue, his skin its perfect copper, sun-kissed tone. “You … your demonic half came out. Wasn’t sure if you planned to kill me.”

“Thought I’d have to take out the whole damn bar for a minute there.”

“Look, I know I hired you to protect me. But when I have to face lycans. Half those people were human. You can’t just keep swooping in and saving the day. I appreciate what you did back there, don’t get me wrong. But you’re not here forever.”

“And how would you have gotten out of that?”

His tone irritated her in the way it implied she
couldn’t
have gotten out of it. “I would have seduced the brute you knocked down into fighting for me.”

“I sensed a bit of fear in you.”

No shit
, but she wasn’t about to admit that to him. “Surprise is more like it. If I’d had the opportunity to gain my bearings, I’d have figured out an escape. Had all of them fighting each other.”

“Sounds like you use your powers as more of a weapon than anything else.”

“What’s wrong with that?” She crossed her arms. “You don’t use your powers to get yourself out of sticky situations?”

“I’d never use my powers
against
a female. I use them to
protect
her.”

“And the pheromones?”

“Always to seduce and ultimately get what I want, yes, but I never mislead. My intent is not to harm.”

“Bullshit Buzz?”

“Protection. There are some who’d literally kill to find out where we live.”

“Aren’t you so noble.” She directed her gaze beyond the passenger window, where the city passed in blurred lines of black and gray. “I suppose that’s the perk of being a big muscled male with a reputation. Some of us don’t have that luxury and have to find creative ways of getting out of trouble.”

“You’re quite resourceful, I’ll give you that.” His eyes roved her thighs at the same time that Sabelle just happened to look back at him. He’d not even the slightest remorse in his stare that she’d obviously caught him. “The humans … will they remember any of what happened back there? My change?”

“No. The casting puts them in a trance. It most likely wore off as soon as we left the bar. There’ll probably be a lot of folks getting laid tonight, though. Sometimes that stuff is like Viagra. Can take hours to wear off.”

Gavin cleared his throat. “Hours?”

“Anyway, I’m just glad it didn’t affect you at all.”

“Yeah.” He rolled his shoulders back. “You looked completely entranced up there yourself.”

Subject change
. “You seemed pretty popular with the ladies.” Even she caught the hint of jealousy in her voice and inwardly cringed. “Gina seemed pretty fond of you.”

He smirked. “I’m very careful when it comes to the succubi. I’ve found it’s better to be kind.”

“What gave her away? Just curious to know how males pick up on that.”

“Well, yours was obvious. I’ve never seen a woman dance quite like that before. I’d venture to say, I don’t think any guy up in the club has ever seen anything like that, either.” He shifted on the seat, as if he suddenly regretted the confession. “Perhaps something you learned?”

“White girl growing up in Detroit’s gotta have something to show for it. You never answered my question about Gina.”

“She happened to be giving off a very distinct scent.”

“What kind of scent?” Sabelle sneered, imagining something along the lines of
Eau de Skank
.

“It’s hard to describe.” He glanced over. “You want the truth?”

“Of course.”

“Makes a man think of hours of sex. A kind of feminine, but natural, smell. Much stronger than human females when they’re horny.”

“That could be a showering issue with her. She once told me as long as the pits are shaved and pussy’s washed, she’s good to go.” Sabelle shivered. “Gross.”

Gavin laughed. “I think it’s safe to say, most of the men she encounters probably wouldn’t give a damn if she’d showered at all.”

“Including you?”
Ugh
. Embarrassment stabbed her throat for asking the question. “Never mind.”

“I think you’ll find I’m a bit of an outlier when it comes to most males. I have my preferences. Standards.”

I’ll say
. “Yeah. That bar is rife with cocktards.”

Seeming much more relaxed than before, he leaned against the console, his thumb brushing ever so trancefully across the smile on his lips. “Cocktards?”

“Having the mental capacity of a penis.” She shook her head. “A woman’s gotta have standards. Otherwise, she has nothing.”

“I must confess, Sabelle. You’re different from the others.”

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