Soul Enslaved (Sons of Wrath Book 3) (55 page)

Lip curling, Gavin crushed the bones in the offending hand, leaving the owner screaming as he collapsed. Another punch thwarted the attack of a blond male holding a crowbar. He swung fists again, connecting with the jaws of two males, and spun them out onto the floor. Two more followed, and he kicked, jabbed and punched, until they fell into the growing pile of bodies.

At the approach of a big fucker with a gut hook, Gavin yanked the dagger from his hip.

Parry, jab the stomach, thrust upward and across the throat.

The male collapsed in a bloody heap, entrails spilling from his wound.

Chest heaving, Gavin waited for the next attack, his muscles trembling, primed for whatever came along. His reflexes couldn’t be matched, and it seemed the message rang loud and clear to the last few who’d rushed into the room, eyed the casualties, and fled the scene.

Even so, he paused, but the doorway to the hall remained empty.

With Jessica’s body back in his arms, Gavin stomped over mangled bodies strewn across the floor and made his exit.

***

Blackness gave way to the occasional light passing across a ceiling. Sabelle’s eyeballs bounced until she saw double. Double lights. Double doors passing to her right.

Lifting her head against the weakness drowning her, she caught sight of her body, swathed in white, with black stripes crossing over, the long stretch of corridor ahead. Attempting to move her arms at her side brought her to the frustrating realization that she’d been secured down tight. Straps bit into her ankles and wrists, nipped her thighs with every wriggle to get loose.

“W… wh… whers ths yer tame?” Her voice failed to carry the urgent question beating against her skull.

A male stood ahead of where she lay strapped to a … stretcher? The male from earlier. The one who’d pinned her.

A devious grin took up the width of his face, sending Sabelle’s stomach hurling into oblivion. “Medics won’t be here for a while, love. It’s just you and me for now.” He twisted away, his arm braced, and she knew he was the one pulling her. “Always wanted to fuck a succubus. Lying, conniving, manipulative little whores.”

Dryness burned and itched her throat, but opening her mouth released nothing more than a whimper.

No! Let me go! Fucking let me go! I want my kids! Thomas! Jane!

A dark room swallowed her, where she came to a stop. Light bleeding in through the cracks dimmed, until she lay consumed in blackness.

Rustling filled the silence. “Scream, if it makes you feel better. No one will hear you this time.”

***

Gavin found Xander scratching his jaw while staring up at the delivered redhead chained against the wall, in a small cell of the mansion’s catacombs.

“If you were a woman,” Gavin said, stepping around him, “where would you hide an important memory stick?”

Xander raised a brow. “Is this a trick question?”

“Jessica.” Gavin stood, hands on hips, waiting for her to come to.

“Probably should’ve dressed her.” Xander dragged a finger across the lace.

“She making you nervous with all that lingerie?”

“Not if I get the honors of punishing. Or finding that memory stick.”

“I don’t think so.” Gavin rubbed his forehead. “I have a feeling she’d enjoy that.”

“And how is she one of the bad guys again?”

“She’s the reason I was sent to Obsidius. The reason I’m cursed. The reason Denya is missing. The reason my female is staying in a hotel room across town, instead of in my bed. If I didn’t have some scruples about me, I’d let you take her to your chambers, and call it even.”

“Shit, that gave me chills.” Xander tipped his head. “Kinda like where she’s at, though.”

Scratching his chin, Gavin studied her sleeping face, looking for any indication that she might be coming to. “Gotta find a way to keep her from casting another fucking spell.”

“We talkin’ black magic?”

“Yeah.”

Without a word, Xander strode from the cell.

The hell?

Jessica’s eyes fluttered, and she sucked in a breath. Her arms pulled against the chains, to no avail. “Fucking … let me go! Where am I?”

“Alright, Bossman …”

Gavin turned toward the approaching angel. He carried a black candle and a mirror, and Gavin’s gaze swung back to Jessica. “You’re in a cage.” He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. “With a Fallen angel.”

Her widened eyes landed on Xander, who, of course, grinned in amusement.

The angel lit the candle and set the mirror behind it on the floor at the opposite side of the cell. “Mirror spell. She tries any black magic shit, just comes back on her. Angel training One-O-One.”

“Clever.” Jessica rolled her eyes and gave another tug of the chains.

“Now, unless you want to get intimate with him, tell me where the fuck Denya was taken. And where is the chip?” Arms still crossed, Gavin waited impatiently, as she stared back at him.

Jessica huffed and slouched against the binds. “I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know where she’s at.”

“In that case, I want you to contact the one who took her.” Gavin paced in front of her. “Tell this person I’d like to set up a meeting. Tonight.”

“You realize you’ll die? He’s not going to just let you off.”

“I’m not looking to be let off. I’m looking for a girl. And I will find her … one way, or another. I left behind at least a dozen bodies. I’m certain he knows you’re gone.” Gavin tipped his head. “And, if he doesn’t, he will.” He nodded toward Xander. “You got a camera set up in your chambers?”

A grin stretched Xander’s lips. “What do you have in mind, Bossman?”

“How do you feel about making our own little snuff film?”

Xander’s grin widened. “Depends on the victim.”

“What do you want?” She leaned forward, against the binds, her breasts shaking with the effort of fighting her bondage. “I told you, I know nothing!”

Gavin faked a smile. “Ah, but
he
does. Who is
he
?”

“Someone who would rather sever his own penis than give you what you want.”

“What if I severed it for him?” That time, Gavin’s smile was real. “Think that’d make a difference? Where are you hiding the chip?”

A false grin stretched across
her
face.

“Look, you can tell me where it is, or I can have my friend here perform a cavity search.” Gavin cocked his head toward Xander. “I guarantee his heart won’t be into finding the chip.”

Xander licked his lips and set a hand on the dagger at his hip.

“As I see it, I’m the only barrier keeping you from whatever fantasy this sick fuck has in mind.”

She gave a defiant tilt of her chin. “In my bra.”

Your bra? The fucking thing has been in your bra this whole time?

“Allow me.” Xander trod forward, but Gavin threw out his arm to stop him.

“I don’t think so.” Carefully tugging the fabric at the juncture between the two cups stretched it just enough for the chip to fall into his awaiting palm.

Lip curled, Jessica gave a hard tug of the chains. “You’re a fool. You don’t even know the magnitude of this. Who you’ve stolen from. What he’ll do to you. He’ll slaughter whoever is in possession of that chip. He has connections to the Orcosian government. You could easily
disappear
,” she hissed.

“So could you, sweetheart.” Xander’s eyebrows waggled, shriveling the smile on her face.

Gavin’s phone rang, and he pulled it from a hip holster, frowning at the name blinking across the screen before he answered.

“Gavin,” she said before he had chance to answer. “It’s Sabelle.”

CHAPTER 27

White. Sterile. Masked faces. A tickle in her chest arrived with each shaky breath she inhaled and exhaled. Flames of heat burned across her body. Muscles ached with tension. Her wrists had worn raw from what must’ve been hours of struggle. In and out, voices reached the dark chambers of her mind, which flashed to a stark white every time she opened her eyes.

“I’ve received orders.” The faces seemed inanimate behind the white masks.

“And?”

“The baby is to be destroyed.”

Baby?

Oh, gods, Sabelle, listen. Wake up.

“Wha … re … you talking … baby?”

Eyes fell on her. Cold. Distant. Demonic eyes. One of the masked reached beyond her periphery. The world turned soft, big and blurry, growing wide, too wide for her view.

Blackness.

She opened her eyes to a needle. Fluid squirted out of the top of it, before the masked face leaned over her. Pressure against her forehead forced her head down.

“Sst … op,” Sabelle slurred. “Whah’re y-y-you doin?” Ice cold panic gripped her chest as the needle tipped at her belly.
No, no! Stop! Please! Don’t do this!

Sharp, stinging pain followed. Her fingers clutched whatever bound them. Muscles burned like fire. Her entire body tensed. Coiled. Reeled from the pain spreading through her insides like lava crawling through her veins. Splintering stabs struck low in her abdomen, twisting like knives slicing her insides. Her mind conjured images of glass shards shattering against her abdominal walls.

She screamed. So loud her throat swelled as if it’d burst, but only the faintest, raspy sound came to the surface. Tears sprang in her eyes. Her heartbeat pulsed beneath her cheekbones while blazes of orange exploded behind her closed lids.

Couldn’t summon a word.

She clamped her eyes tighter, a silent
no
slamming against her clenched teeth. Such a futile word trapped behind blackness, silence.

Flashes of blue eyes, black hair. A baby boy sleeping in her arms. A toddler playing with toys. A young boy riding his bike. A man. He looked like Gavin, aside from the odd shade of cerulean in his eyes—the striking feature of an incubus. His eyes watered when he held up a hand, as if to wave goodbye.

The pain disappeared. Blackness. Stillness.

Nothing.

***

Cool fingertips, so soft and soothing, broke through the blackness. Sabelle opened her eyes to the bright sterile room from before, and Thomas standing beside the bed, stroking her cheek. His big blue eyes carried sadness—far too wise for his age. She grasped his small hand in hers, holding them to her face, desperate for those baby fingers. The scent of his skin reminded her of home.

“Mommy? W-w-was I bad?”

“No, baby.” She shook her head, her heart crumbling inside her chest as she peered into his round, innocent eyes. “You’re not bad.”

“W-w-will you be died?”

“Where did you hear that, sweet?”

He glanced down, the same downcast expression he always wore when he’d done something wrong. “I don’t want you to be died, Mommy.” A tear spilled onto his cheek.

Sabelle wiped it away. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” She awkwardly lifted her head, straining to kiss his cheek, just out of reach, and kissed his hand instead. “Where’s Janie?”

“C-c-can you come play with us?”

Sabelle lay back on the pillow. “Soon, sweets. I’ll play soon, okay?”

“But I-I-I want you to play now, Mommy.”

“Can you do me a favor?” The softness of his cheek passed beneath her fingertips. “Can you be Mommy’s big boy and take care of your sister? Give her big kisses for me, okay?”

“W-w-why can’t you?”

“I want to.” A tear soaked the cotton pillow beneath Sabelle’s temple. “I wish I could hold both of you in my arms. And tell you goodnight. And see your sweet faces when you fall asleep.” She offered a warm smile in spite of the tears. “Soon.”

“W-w-why did the baby died, Mommy?”

Sabelle frowned. “What baby?”

“In your tummy. He cried. I heard him. A-a-and then he just died. I couldn’t hear him cry anymore.” His blue eyes glistened with tears. “Was he bad?”

Ice closed in over her heart and Sabelle choked for breath. “No.” More tears soaked the pillow until Sabelle had to wipe her eyes just to see his face. “I want you to know, TJ, you’re such a good boy. And Janie is Mommy’s sweet little girl. I love you both so much.”

“Do you love the baby, too?”

She paused a moment then nodded. Sniffing back tears, she glanced down, as he withdrew his hand from hers.

He frowned. Darkness filled in behind him, like the shifting of a nightmare, the other side of which lurked something darker. “I don’t want you to kill us. Don’t let them kill us, too, Mommy.”

The blackness swarmed him, the soft edges of the room coming into sharp focus. Sabelle’s eyes widened, and she reached for him, both hands swiping through nothingness.

“Thomas!” Her screams reverberated off the walls. “Thomas!” She reached again but the tug of her binds pulled her back. “Thomas! Janie!”

The echo beat inside her head, as pain seared her stomach, and she lifted her head to see blood staining the sheets. The room spun, tilted, creating knots of sickness deep inside her chest. A tight cramping tugged at her spine in agonizing contractions that clamping her lids shut did nothing to ease.

She shook on the bed in a tantrum. “Let me go! I want my babies! I want my babies!” Her screams were broken only by sobs. 

No one answered.

Blackness filtered in once more.

***

Gavin sat across from Nola, his jaw constantly shifting, as he clutched the edges of his desk. His office at the mansion had always been a place of peace and contemplation. Gavin had never been so nervous in his life. “Where is she?”

“She’s being held until her trial.”

His eye flinched at the word, knowing what it felt like to stand before the Council in defense. “And the children?”

“I’ve placed them with a caretaker. They’re in a good home, for now, but they miss their momma. Thomas hasn’t spoken a word. He won’t eat. Sleeps all the time. And Janie just stares out the window all day long, asking when Sabelle is coming home.” 

Good home, or not, Gavin knew all too well that Sabelle would never survive being away from them long. “Does she know that they’re safe?”

“I’m not permitted to go beyond the glass. And she’s so strung out on drugs they’ve injected her …”

“Drugs?” Gavin’s heart seized, and Nola tipped her head forward, eyebrows knitted together. In the few times he’d met the woman, one thing had become clear—she wasn’t the kind to let shit get to her. Yet, as she sat across from him, he could plainly see, something had gotten to her.