Soul Enslaved (Sons of Wrath Book 3) (13 page)

Perfect timing, as always.

He ran a hand down his face and froze. Hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he perked his ears.

Someone outside the house
.

Gavin padded back into his room and stalked toward the window. Only the green of summer grass poking up through deadened leaves blanketed the ground below him. Otherwise, nothing seemed to be there.

A click drew his head back in the other direction, and Gavin grabbed his jeans piled on the floor. After donning them quickly, he nabbed the dagger from its holster on the nightstand.

Slow, quiet steps brought him to the staircase, and instead of climbing down the noisy, creaking things, he peered over the railing. Noticing a small space at the foot of the stairs, he swung over the wooden rails and landed in a crouch at the foot of the staircase.

Rustling rose from the kitchen.

Through the darkness, Gavin cut into the small room, approaching a shadow standing in front of the refrigerator.

What the hell kind of thief …

From behind the intruder, he propped the dagger beneath the male’s chin, keeping it there as the glass bowl shattered against the countertop.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Gavin tightened his grasp. “You first.”

“Jeven!” Sabelle flipped on the kitchen light, her lithe form a momentary distraction in the nightshirt that did a fine job of clinging to her obviously braless tits. “I told you to stay the hell away from me and my house!”

“I think you mean
my
house, love.” He squirmed against Gavin’s grasp. “Last I checked, you haven’t paid a fucking dime.”

Gavin released his hold, and as the male spun around, his eyes widened as stared upward. He must’ve only stood about five-eleven to Gavin’s six-seven.

“Who’s this asshole?” he sneered.

“A guest. He’s staying with me for a while.” Sabelle’s tone remained flat, while she tossed pieces of broken glass and chicken drumsticks into the trashcan.

A sly grin stretched across the male’s face as his eyes sized Gavin up and down. “You plan to spread your whoring legs and fuck this one, sweetheart?”

Stood with a cloth poised to clean up chicken grease spilled on the countertop, Sabelle shook her head. “Get out. Get out of my house now.”

“Or what? The big, bad house guest is going to walk me to the door?”

Gavin shot Sabelle a glance, and at the cock of her brow, he gripped the male’s throat. The grasping hands did nothing to affect his grip, and with little effort, he dragged the male to the front door, opened it, and tossed him outside. “The lady says you’re not welcome here. This is your warning. Come into this house without permission again, and you’ll need a wheelchair to get your ass home.”

“Lady? ‘The fuck are you talking about? She’s no lady. She’s a whore. A filthy, fucking whore!” He scrambled to his feet. “Watch her. Might need your dick checked if you’ve fucked her.”

Gavin tapped his dagger against his palm. “I won’t tell you again.”

The male hobbled off down the street, throwing the finger before he disappeared into the night.

As Gavin shut them back into the house, Sabelle sat at the kitchen table in a nightshirt and sweatpants that were rolled up to her silky, toned calves. That he’d noticed made Gavin want to kick himself. “Are your nights always so exciting?”

Her exasperated breath gave him the impression Jeven was a nightly nuisance.

“Pimp?”

“Yeah. You see my dilemma? Why I’d be willing to do something stupid like, say, run into a lycan’s lair? I deal with his shit every night. And I hate that our world finds this acceptable.” Sabelle huffed. “Thanks for chasing his ass out of here.”

“May I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure. I may, or may not, answer, depending on the question.” She rubbed a hand through her hair. “You’ve been warned.”

Propping himself against the wall, Gavin crossed his arms. “A bonded succubus is granted automatic emancipation from her pimp. People get married for insurance. Citizenship. Why not bond for freedom?”

“What, with you?”

“No. I mean in general.”

She smirked. “It was a joke. No one’s signing up to bond with a succubus. Can’t say I blame them. Half my species belongs in a mental institute. It’s more than that, though. First, I don’t believe in bonding.” She shrugged. “It’s bullshit, if you ask me. And second? If I bond, I lose guardianship of Denya, which means any asshole pimp can come along and claim her.” The aversion of her gaze and her fidgeting hands gave Gavin the sense that the eventual claiming of her sister weighed heavy on her mind. “It’s going to happen eventually, but I’d like her to hold out as long as possible.”

“For a mate of her own?”

“No. For an education. A chance to do something other than sending souls to the fucking underworld for eternity.” She rested her chin against the palm of her hand and yawned.

The gesture, so simple and unimpressive, captured Gavin’s stare. Sabelle had a very inviting simplicity about her.

“You’ve no idea what life is like for a succubus who’s got nothing to fall back on. It’s a constant stream of having to suck someone off just to get by—both in and out of the bedroom. It’s probably why half the women act like they can’t stand their kids. Easier to ignore them than look them in the eye and explain why there’s a cock in your mouth. I’m done with it. Done with guys like Jeven, who look at women—me—like pawns to pad his sorry ass all the way to whatever messed up dreams and aspirations a pimp tucks under his pillows at night. I may have grown up in that life, but my kids won’t. I refuse to let them believe they’re worth so little.”

“You surprise me, Sabelle. Nothing like I imagined.”

A roll of her eyes accompanied the slightest smile. “You were expecting to be tied to the bed and tormented? What a disappointment I must be.”

Gavin chuckled. “I screwed you out of a job. Guess I was expecting to get screwed in return.”

“It’s only the first night.” She blew out a tired laugh and knocked on the tabletop. “My talents in screwing men go beyond the bedroom. Give me a chance, and I’ll prove it.”

***

Sabelle offered a nod to Gavin and closed the door to her room, as they both retreated back to bed. Once inside, she smiled, replaying the look on Jeven’s face while caught in Gavin’s grip. In all the time she’d known the pimp, he’d never looked so scared. How many times had she held a knife to his throat, and he’d merely batted it away, yet in one simple grip from Gavin, he’d known he was out-matched.

Gavin.

Earlier, she’d had the most exquisite dream of him at her bedroom door, stroking himself as he watched her touch herself. Like an Adonis, his naked form boasted chiseled perfection. Muscles, symmetrical and lean. She’d almost gotten to touch the illusion of them, until asshole busted in and tore that dream to shreds.

Fucking Jeven.

She climbed back into bed and lay staring up at the ceiling. For the first time in her life, Sabelle felt … relatively content, aside from the fact that her kids weren’t with her. She nabbed her cell phone to check the time. Two in the morning. No texts or calls from Denya. All seemed to be well.

Despite the exhaustion settling over her body, her mind remained too engaged to sleep.

Turned on? Possibly. Making it time to Prime—something that all Succubi did. Sure, she’d masturbated since she’d been a teenager, but Priming was something more. Always helped to know your own hotspot, in case the guy turned out to be a crappy lay. If she knew her own pleasure point, and could train her body to come on contact with it, she could get out of sticky situations pretty quick. After all, a succubus was most powerful when she climaxed. Sabelle planned to use it as a trigger, because if she could master the full scope of her power, she’d have fewer close calls in her encounters with dickheads.

She closed her eyes and lifted her knees, taking deep breaths.
Concentrate
. Pushing her panties aside, she slid her fingers across her wet slit, over the pubic bone, and dipped them up inside. Her stomach lurched at the sensation. The smooth skin against her fingertips and the angles of bone and flesh. So different from the fingerings she’d gotten from men.

She probed and stroked, seeking the ever-coveted G-spot that, in a succubus’s world, meant detonation of one mind-blowing orgasm and the power to suck a soul in seconds.

Unlike human G-spots, it was much harder to find for the succubus. Most females her age had been shown by their mothers. Not in a sweet, coming-of-age chat that could end up in cheek-blushing giggles. More like an actual demonstration, and usually on the first night they were offered up to a man, once the older succubus determined it was time for them to contribute to the household.

The sickening ritual often happened at the ripe age of sixteen, but Sabelle’s mother had tried much earlier. That happened to be the first time Sabelle had ever struck her mother, the first time she’d warned her never to lay a hand on her or Denya unless she wanted to be beaten within an inch of her life.

Sabelle had only been twelve years old. To say that Priming didn’t exactly start out a favorable pastime for her would have been an understatement. She’d felt dirty about the ritual, up until Nevolina found her at the age of seventeen. Somehow, her Divine Matron brought a certain level of normalcy to the very natural female needs of the body.

The longer she felt around for it, though, the more her stomach twisted with nausea at the sensation, until Sabelle removed her fingers, wiping the dampness on her cotton panties.

Shit.

She only had a few days to find it, but nothing about Priming happened to feel pleasurable. Yet. More like a gyno visit. Or the awkward fondling between her and Jason Thoms in the woods behind the school back in seventh grade.

Even Denya had once told her she’d found hers. Of course, Denya masturbated far more than any female probably
should
. Sabelle felt sorry for the poor bastard who’d turn out to be her first. She’d probably hold out all night long and end up sucking his soul to a withered pulp.

Giving off some of her heat earlier could’ve sapped Sabelle a bit, too. Ugh. Reminded again.

Considering she’d walked out on her shift without so much as a word, that was probably another job she could kiss goodbye. The sixth since she’d left Gavin’s casino.

Damn.

She’d have to find something quick, and her choices were growing slim. The thought really should’ve stressed her out more than it did, but burying her head in the pillow only brought thoughts of Gavin.

How he hadn’t hesitated right in the middle of a mosh pit at the bar, when she could’ve very well incited a blood bath of males and females competing for her.

He hadn’t hesitated to find an immediate solution to her car troubles.

Hadn’t hesitated when Jeven … well, was being Jeven.

The man wasn’t a hesitator. He was a doer. A get-shit-done kind of male.

Sabelle sighed. “A girl could get used to that,” she murmured. She wouldn’t, though. Fucker-uppers and get-shit-doners never made a good match.

Besides that, she’d never do anything to put Denya in the hands of another Jeven—a pimp who’d use her to further himself. Sabelle had practically raised her sister and didn’t plan to drop that responsibility any time soon.

Not to mention Gavin wasn’t exactly the poster child for bonding, though he seemed to be getting up there in age and had to be approaching his Savidon soon.

Bonding didn’t float her boat, either, but hey, it was kind of fun fantasizing what it’d be like. Gavin would be the ultimate prince Charming, while Sabelle would be that feisty bitch, constantly offering an endless source of opportunities for the evil villains to create tension in the perfect little fairytale.

Chuckling at her own ridiculous thoughts, Sabelle rolled over and closed her eyes.

CHAPTER 4

Sabelle sipped her coffee at the kitchen table, half-heartedly scrolling through job openings. Yeah, one call to Mel confirmed what she already knew—she’d been canned. She’d be lucky if the bastard bothered to cut her a final check. Fuck. With an undercover gig at the end of the week, the last thing she needed was the stress of finding work.

The sensation of being watched tugged hairs on the back of her neck and she spun around.

Gavin leaned just inside the door, fastening his cuff links.

Hell-to-the-goddamn-o. Don’t look at the muscles.

Though, how could she not? They popped through the sleeves of his dress shirt, just begging to be ogled.

“I’ve a meeting with Aeguza this morning. I’d like you to accompany me to the casino.”

“Nah, I’ve got to find a job today. Denya’s going to take the kids for me so I can fill out some apps.” She shook her head, eyeing the list of sucky leads she’d jotted down. “This is going to be one depressing afternoon.”

“Sabelle—”

“Don’t even say it, Gavin. I’m not taking any more of your charity.”

“It’s not charity. I could actually use the help. I talked to Maddox this morning. Apparently, one of our girls OD’d on Shine last night and landed in the ER. We’re down.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “This isn’t a pity story you made up, is it? Because that’s just pathetic.”

“I wish it was. The reality is, if you don’t take the job, I’m going to have to don those tight leather shorts and start calling everyone
Suga
, if I can’t find someone to replace her.”

Laughter threw her head back. “Perish the thought. Although, if it’s Kendra we’re talking about, you might wear them better than she ever did.” Kendra had probably worked at
Sanctuary
the longest and boasted a bad drug addiction. Nice lady, when she happened to be sober—a phenomenon that didn’t occur too often.

Gavin chuckled at that. “So, will you help a poor brother out here?”

“Poor, my ass.” She rolled her eyes, though the flicker of hope eased the tension in her neck from stressing over the ridiculous job postings she had to choose from. “Yeah, I’ll take the job. When do I start?”

“Tonight. If you’ll be so kind as to accompany me to the office, I’ll bring Aeguza up to speed on the Sang, and then the afternoon is yours.”