Soul Enslaved (Sons of Wrath Book 3) (17 page)

“I suspect so. Please keep me in the loop.” Marrick stood with a hand outstretched. “Glad to be on the same side, Gavin.”

Gavin shook his hand. “Thank you for … the tip on my brother.”

“How is he?”

“Well. He’s doing well. Not one hundred percent, but getting better.” Gavin cleared his throat. “And the boy and his Guardian? How are they?”

“Doing okay, I guess. Matthias doesn’t stay around too long. Teenagers, you know, running the streets. But he stays out of trouble okay.” Marrick shook Maddox’s hand and stepped around his chair. “We’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you for the heads up.”

The lycan left the office and Gavin fell back into his chair. “I don’t have the time for all this enslavement and imprisonment shit. The fate of the world just added to the shitstorm on my desk.” He lifted and dropped a piece of paper. “I’ve got bills to pay before I can save humanity from extinction.”

“Do what everyone else is doing.” Maddox’s grin stretched across his face. “File for bankruptcy.”

***

Stood before the mirror of
Sanctuary
’s very elegant powder room, Sabelle tugged at her short shorts and fishnets. In the glass, white lights flickered, beyond her own reflection, from an indoor saltwater pond that extended into the bar, where chain catsharks swam about. It’d been a while since she’d donned
Sanctuary
garb, and she’d forgotten just how high those shorts clung. How in the hell did Kendra, in all her curvy splendor, manage to keep her ass cheeks tucked inside?

After adjusting her boobs in the clingy top, a V-neck, black and white jersey shirt that made her look like a gothic cheerleader, she headed out into the bar.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to crawl back.” Daria, a human who happened to be privy to supes, and a long-time waitress at
Sanctuary
, rested a hand on her hip as Sabelle approached. “You suck the bosses off, or something?”

“Bitch, please, you’re the only one who drops to your knees when you want something. Here.” Sabelle pulled a tube of Chapstick from her back pocket and tossed it to the veteran waitress. “Might come in handy tonight.”

“Cunt.” She yanked Sabelle to her chest. “Why haven’t you called me, hoe-bag?”

“Busy trying to survive. Can you let me go? Took twenty minutes to keep my tits from popping out of this shirt.”

“Ha! Have to acclimate yourself again. Too much frump, not enough hump,” she said, slapping her own ass. “’The fuck they make you wear over at that other bar, moo moos?”

“Just about.” Sabelle chuckled. “I’m too old for this.”

“The hell you are! You’re one smokin’ hot mama. If I was bi, and that’s still up for debate, I would definitely munch your carpet.” She wrapped an arm around Sabelle. “Someday, when I grow up and have kids? I want to be a MILF, just like you.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“This place is filling up quick.” Daria leaned in. “So fucking glad you’re here, instead of Kendra. If I had to hear her call another bastard
Suga
, I think I’da had to throw down.” She leaned back. “So …” The obnoxious chewing of her gum had Sabelle’s eye twitching. “You fuck him yet?”

Sabelle threw her head back. “I’m
so
not getting into this with you. Do you know how many times I’ve been asked that very question in a matter of
days
?”

“I’m sorry, but that man does shit to me. He walks into the room? I gotta change my panties all of a sudden, know what I’m sayin’? Mothafuckers need to come up with a toilet roll of disposable panties for bosses like Gavin. It ain’t right the way he commands a woman’s vajay like that. I’m about to start calling him the Pussy Whisperer, for real.”

“
Please
.” Sabelle threw her hand in the air. “I don’t want to hear about your wetness, or who’s whispering in your vajay.”

“Seriously, how the hell do you sleep at night with that man in your house?” Daria’s eyes widened. “Bet he sleeps buck fucking nekked, too.” She shivered and bit her lip, eyes still lost to whatever crazy fantasy spun inside that head of hers. “Could probably house an entire family under his cock-tent.”

Sabelle rubbed her brow. “Are you finished?”

“Why?” Again with the gum smacking. “Making you jealous?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Then, you won’t hate me for telling you I fucked him.”

“What?” Sabelle swung her gaze back to Daria, eyes wide. “When?”

Daria pointed and laughed. “Ha! You are so fucking jealous, it’s not even funny!”

Sabelle shook her head. “Gonna be a long ass shift, if you plan to do this all night.”

“Rumor has it … he has a
tongue trick
that would put the Jack Rabbit out of business.” Her waggling eyebrows brought a frown to Sabelle’s face. “Many a bitch has raved over the man’s skills, let me tell you what. They say he’s got this weird flicking thing that hits the jackpot
every
time. Like a G-spot Garmin, or some shit.”

Yeah, a tickle beat against her core at the thought, but Sabelle held a silent stare.

“All right, all right. I’m done. Just answer this. Is it true what they say?”

Rubbing her temple, Sabelle huffed. “What?”

“He’s got a colossal cock.” Daria held out her hands to demonstrate the length. “There’s extra large, and then there’s Commander Cock, know what I mean? I’ll bet he owns a couple floggers, too. Fucks like a
boss
.” A groan followed the last word.

“I wouldn’t know.” Sabelle snatched back her Chapstick. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe my shift’s started.”

“I still love you!” Daria’s voice trailed off, as Sabelle approached Pat, the bartender.

“Hey, beautiful!” He leaned forward. “When did you start working here again?”

“About two minutes ago.” She smiled. “I’m at your service, kind sir.”

“You mind taking this out back for me?” He lifted a trash bag from behind the bar. “Busboy went M.I.A. Probably smoking out back.”

“If it keeps Daria from asking me twenty questions, I’m on it.”

“Take your time, then.” Pat met her on the opposite end of the bar and passed it off to her.

Not too heavy. She carried it down the hall and through the door to the alley. With three good swings, she tossed the bag into the air, and it landed inside the dumpster.

A quick pivot brought her face to face with a dark stranger. Sabelle let out a scream, but a hand covered her mouth as he guided her up against the wall. Even up close, his face remained mostly hidden behind a black hoodie—except for a very distinct scar that stretched across his cheek, leaving a long indentation.

A glint in her periphery drew her eyes to a wide, serrated blade as he twisted it in front of her.

“You scream, and I’ll slice you open and toss you in with the trash,” he said, his voice gruff and raspy. He smelled of smoke and metal, something like Griffin and the boys at the car shop.

Relaxing her muscles, Sabelle focused on his shadowed eyes, working up her powers of seduction.

“Your tricks won’t work on me.” He pressed into her, but released her mouth. “Tell me your business with the demon.”

“I have no business with any demon. I’m a succubus, remember?”

“Don’t fuck with me,
Sabelle.
”

A flicker of panic shuddered through her body. She couldn’t swallow nor release the captive breath at the mention of her name.

“That’s right. I know everything about you. I know your pimp. And I know about your kids.” He tipped his head. “I suggest you tell me your business, or those little blondes are going to wake up to bloody pieces of their mother lying beside them.”

Static buzzing almost dulled her senses at the mention of her kids, and she prayed her voice didn’t shake as she answered, “He owes me a debt.”

“And with what task have you charged him?” His blade pressed into her stomach, and the male’s slow, easy breaths, his sharp but fluid movements radiated a predator’s warning. “You lie to me, and I will gut you open right here.”

“I won’t say a word until you tell me who you are.”

The blade nicked her skin and his fingers pressed harder.

Sabelle squinted away mental images of lying disemboweled in a dark alley. “I want … to be … free from … my pimp.”

“And how is the valiant
Gavin
going to free you from this
oppression
you suffer?” he asked, leaning in to her ear. “Marry you and live happily ever after? Abort his riches for your peasantry?”

She snarled. “I intend to find out who’s abducting my kind and kill him. Perhaps I’m already staring at him?”

“Perhaps.” The line of his jaw held no humor. Moon’s light didn’t showcase much of his features, other than his ruined lip and that horrific scar, while most of his face remained mysteriously veiled in his hood. “So, you do the pimps a favor with the help of a big strong Wrath, and all your troubles will melt away.” The sarcasm slipped off his tongue just before he leaned forward, his dagger-toting fist beside her head. Irritation needled her stomach at the ease with which he remained masked in darkness, and she’d have boldly smacked the hoodie off his head if that dagger’s teeth hadn’t been smiling so closely to her eyeball. “You will be killed. Your children left motherless. And your demon won’t save you from an army of trained killers.” He shoved his dagger back inside its holster, as if the meeting was coming to an end.

She swallowed hard. “What was the point of you holding a knife to my throat and choking me? What do you want?”

“Curious to know what the hell would prompt a Wrath to stay with a succubus. We’re not a stupid species.”

“We?”

He ignored her question. “I’ve got a better offer. Much simpler. Less dangerous.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”

“I want you to release the demon from his debt. Set him free.”

“What do you want with him?”

“It’s not your concern. My employer is willing to offer you one million dollars for the trade. He also happens to have connections to the Orcosian court, which means he can release you, legally, from your binding with the pimp.”

The pounding of her heart had to be audible. “How?”

“Walk away from Gavin. That’s all you have to do. No harm to you, or your children.”

“How am I supposed to trust that? You held a knife to my stomach.”

“I’m an assassin. Had I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have given you the luxury of seeing death’s strike.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

His jaw twitched. “One million dollars. No strings to your pimp.”

“I’m supposed to trust you to deliver a deal like that?”

He tipped his head. “You trust the pimps?”

“At least I know I’m providing something valuable in exchange.”

“I can assure you. You’ll be providing a very valuable trade.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a card. On it,
Optevyl
was written in black above the emblem of what appeared to be a raptor of the underworld. Where there should’ve been a name, block lettering spelled out ‘Inconsequential’. “This is my contact. You cannot trace the number. You will not reach me direct. Leave a voicemail, with the location to where you’d like to make the trade.”

“Your name is
Inconsequential
?” She couldn’t help the slight sneer in her voice.

“I’ll arrive with a briefcase and pre-drafted papers for your freedom.”

“You must take me for a fool. Nothing is ever as it seems.”

“You must take me as someone who gives a shit about your life of hardship and injustices.”

She flicked the card in his face, keeping her eyes on him as it fluttered in her periphery toward the ground.

“I see you’ve made your decision.” His lips curved, but only an instant. “But I’d urge you to keep that number on hand. If nothing else, I happen to be one of the few people who know the true father of your children.”

Sabelle’s heart seized, and her body tingled as dread washed through her veins. Reaching down to where the card soaked up water from the pavement, she quickly retrieved it.

By the time she glanced upward again, he’d left.

Vanished.

She stared at the slight blur of the letters.
Optevyl
. Such a contradiction in one simple word. Half of it sounded regal and, coupled to the gold ribbon in the emblem, almost honorable—the other half, dark and uncertain.

The male’s words echoed in her head. One million dollars. Freedom. No danger.
Just walk away
. The question she hadn’t asked him was, what if she didn’t? Would he turn her in, if she opted
not
to do it? Would Gavin be hurt or murdered by them? What did they want with him? Who were
they
, exactly?

He’d referred to himself as Gavin’s kind. Did that make him a Wrath?

Sabelle stuffed the card into her pocket and, tugging her cell phone from her apron, sent a text to Denya.

Please let me know if anything weird happens tonight.

Like what?

Like if you see someone snooping around
.

The guy hadn’t said anything about Denya. Perhaps he didn’t know about her.

Should she tell Gavin? She couldn’t. Sabelle didn’t even have a name for the guy, and if Gavin happened to contact him, call the number on the card, it could set him off—have him turning her in. Or worse.

She clutched her stomach to settle the knot of tension worming its way into her gut.
Gods
. A couple more days, and all the crap would be behind her. Jeven would no longer own her, which meant her kids would no longer be considered an abomination in the eyes of the court.

Couple more days, Sabelle. Stick it out
.
Stick with the plan.

Sabelle returned inside to find Pat’s face plastered in confusion and arms raised in a
huh?
.

“I was joking when I said take your time.”

“I’m sorry. I … ran into something in the back. All’s good.” She offered him a smile, loaded with
don’t ask me another question
.

“You gotta table. Daria got the first round of drinks. Brace yourself, sweetheart, a few Veneficiusz at that table. Charming bastards, but don’t let them talk you into anything.”