Soul Enslaved (Sons of Wrath Book 3) (9 page)

“I’m happy to offer one of my cars. I can have Ben drive it over within the hour.”

She stared, and Gavin couldn’t tell if she might be considering it, or contemplating whether or not her sharp claws could penetrate his skin. “Just like that?”

He shrugged. “Just like that. No having to take the kids on the bus.”

The way she rubbed a hand across the back of her neck told him she really wanted to say yes. Instead, she shook her head. “If you weren’t here, I’d have to make do. I’ll take the bus.”

“No need to be stubborn about this, Sabelle. Seize opportunities when they’re in front of you.”

“And what happens when you leave and I’m back to my shit car, huh? My kids are asking where the nice car went, and I have to explain, when we’re broken down on the side of the road, that it was just Mommy
seizing the opportunity
.” Her hands fell to her hips and she leaned forward. “False hope is the cruelest kind.”

“Suit yourself. My intention wasn’t to tear down whatever fortress keeps you from enjoying life. I was merely offering a solution to a very temporary problem. Perhaps you might consider a letter to Hertz, making them aware of the hopes and dreams they’re shattering with every rental car they offer.”

Her jaw shifted, as though trying to contain a cannonball trapped in her throat, and the crossing of her arms made it clear he’d nailed the hot button again. “It must be so easy for you. Car breaks down, and you simply drive another. If I didn’t have Griffin, this would ruin me. I don’t have the money to get it fixed, and I sure as hell can’t afford to take the bus every day.”

“All the more reason you should take me up on my offer. Consider yourself deserving of a break.”

Her eyebrow flickered to a frown, like the thought of her deserving anything troubled her. “Fine. We’ll use one of your cars. But nothing fancy. I’m not out to draw attention. I just need something to get back and forth.”

“Unfortunately, my collection of cars doesn’t include grocery-getters and dick-shriveling station wagons, so you’ll have to take what you can get.” Gavin smiled. “May I use your phone? Mine was confiscated and crushed in Obsidius.”

“Crushed?”

“I apparently pissed off an Enforcer.” He scratched his chin. “I’ll have Ben bring another. Makes sense to have one handy.”

Sabelle shook her head and handed him her phone. “Hey, I’ve got an idea … why don’t you have him bring a goddamn house and wardrobe for me while you’re at it?”

He cocked a brow.

“That was a joke.”

***

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sabelle walked around the sleek SUV parked in front of her home. Black with black tinted windows. “Do you know how much gas this thing is going to take to fill?”

“Master Gavin asked that I bring a vehicle to carry children.” Ben held out a black Amex. “The tank is full, but should you need anything else …”

Sabelle scratched the back of her head, like she needed to get her hand as far away as possible from the offending item Ben presented, as discomfort washed through her. Gods, she’d never seen a black Amex in her life. Only pictures of the gold-teethed thugs who sported them. Her gaze fell back on Gavin.

‘
Temporary
,’ he mouthed.

Reluctantly, she accepted the card and stared down at it. A girl could get into trouble with a card like that. If she happened to be that girl. Denya, on the other hand, would’ve taken it and had the balls to ask him to take her shopping. In his car. And asked him to drive her, too. “Here.” Sabelle held the card out to Gavin. “It’s better if you hang on to this.”

Completely ignoring her outstretched hand, Gavin stepped past her, toward Ben. “So I guess that’s it. We’re all set to go.” Gavin shook Ben’s hand, accepting the fancy suitcase and garment bag.

The troll glanced back at Sabelle, then offered a dagger, encased in the most intricate holster she’d ever seen. “For your and the Miss’s protection, sir.”

Gavin fastened the holster to his belt. “How’s Zeke?”

“Master Zeke is improving each day. He reports that he can see out of one eye now, and he seems to have found his voice again. Unfortunately.”

Gavin chuckled.

“He’s still quite weak, though. I suspect his more severe wounds will take weeks to heal.”

“How ‘bout Logan and Calla?”

“Miss Calla is doing well. Master Logan insists I keep a close watch on her. He’s been hunting quite frequently.”

As the two spoke back and forth, Sabelle glanced down at the black card still clutched in her palm. Wrath Enterprises stretched across the front of it and she could only imagine the ease with which the Brothers charged whatever they wanted on the piece of plastic.

“Hunting what?” Gavin’s question lured her back to their conversation.

“I’m afraid he’s not made me privy to that information, sir. As you know, Master Logan does what he pleases, when he pleases. Master Calix has also been scarce around the mansion, as of late.”

“Ava. I suspect he’s looking for her.”

“Perhaps. Your brothers were elated to hear of your release. Lady Ceferina made it quite clear they’re not to interfere with the arrangement, but Master Maddox asked that I report your condition.”

Ben’s words nipped at Sabelle’s conscience. Enslavement to the succubi, or incubi in some cases, often meant complete dissolution of the slave’s ties to everything—family, work, freedom—and some succubi abused their rights, inciting retaliation by the victim’s loved ones. As a result, unless okay’d by the slaver first, which rarely happened, the laws prohibited interference of any kind—a crime punishable by absolute death. What should’ve been a mutual agreement between two individuals, often ended up an excuse for the succubi to exercise retribution based on some pent up social oppression and sexual frustration—often a tragic combination for the slave.

Of course, Sabelle had no intentions using Gavin that way, but the stereotype bothered her just the same. Unfortunately, the barrel of rotten apples made it damn near impossible to rise above it.

“Ben, please let my brothers know I’m well.”

The troll seemed to carry a knowing expression. “I’ll deliver your message, sir.”

***

Sat in the passenger seat, Sabelle fiddled with her purse strap, knee bouncing like crazy. The vehicle made her nervous—like merely sitting inside of it might downgrade its value.

Sad that a fucking car seemed to carry more value than her.

The entire interior of the vehicle was leather, decked out with electronics that looked like they belonged on a NASA control board. Smelled good, too. Leather mixed with Gavin’s scent, which seemed to be more of a signature smell, as he hadn’t arrived with any cologne and nothing she owned carried an aroma that good.

Gavin parked the beast next to the kind of vehicle you’d expect to see at a bar like
Mel’s on Six
. Slightly better than her own junker, but the ugly stepsibling to Gavin’s ride.

“So … a car like this—do you just walk into a dealership and tell them you want it, and it’s just a done deal?”

Gavin glanced over. “Why do I get the feeling I’m being set up for failure with this question?”

She sighed. “Sorry.”

“It’s a couple of days, Sabelle. Then you’re welcome to crawl back into the arms of the self-denial you seem to enjoy.”

“It’s not self denial,” she snapped. “It’s living in the real world.”

“And in the real world, people seize opportunities. A phenomenon called survival.” He raised a brow, the accompanying smirk casting a silent touché. “Would it make you feel better to know you have something I want?”

Sabelle frowned. “Like what?”

“Freedom.”

Freedom. Right
. Stared up at the flickering sign that warned of the assholes she’d have to entertain the rest of the night for some measly tips, she sneered. “If you only knew.”

Stepping outside of the heated seats came with some punishment, as the cool evening breeze swept across her bare legs. Gavin trailed her steps into the bar, and the moment she hit the main floor, all eyes were on her. Correction. All eyes were probably on the man behind her. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder, to where Gavin made his way toward the booths, before sidling up next to the waitresses congregated beside the bar.

“Who. The Fuck. Is
that
?” Gina’d probably worked for
Mel’s On Six
the longest, but that didn’t make her any more mature than the rest of the twenty-somethings who worked there.

Sabelle huffed, tying on the tiny apron that made her feel like some French maid wanna be. “My shadow.” Some nights she hated working with a gaggle of succubi. Seemed all they ever did was stand around, eyeing every swinging dick that walked through the door. The owner of the place happened to be human and completely oblivious to the fact that most of his waitresses could suck a soul faster than most humans could polish off a glass of water through a straw.

“Your boyfriend?” Maya, the light skinned newbie, asked with a twinge of hope in her voice.

“No.” The last thing Sabelle needed: rumors of a demon boyfriend getting back to Jeven. “Definitely not.”

“Oh, wow.” Maya bit her lip. “He’s … single?”

Sabelle glanced back again, watching as Gavin slid into one of the booths, his massive body imposing in the small space. “Every other night, I suppose.”

“Isn’t that … a
Wrath
brother? The eldest?” Any other male, and blonde, big-breasted Harper would’ve been the first to rush his cock. The sour pursing of her lips told Sabelle the chick was about to go prude and preachy. “He raped that girl. It was all over the Orcosian press.”

“Yeah, I read that, too. Beat her up and forced her to have sex.” Maya stole glances, still biting her lip, which told Sabelle she wasn’t entirely put off by the gossip. “A bonded female, can you believe that?”

“Are you shitting me? Bonded?” Gina reared back. “What an asshole.”

“Yeah, she went to Obsidius, too!” Harper shook her head. “Ain’t no justice in this world today.”

“Mm-hmmm.” Maya’s eyes widened before she took a sip of water from a glass she swiped up.

With a glance over her shoulder, Sabelle caught Gavin looking around the bar.
Stupid gossip
. The succubi were notorious for spreading the shit.

Her gaze swung back to the gaggle of females, chattering like hens in a coop. “He didn’t rape any woman. He doesn’t have to take anything by force. You bitches practically raped his ass when he walked through the door. Get off your high horses and collect the facts first.”

“Whoa, ‘the fuck, Sabelle?” Gina’s hands flew up. “Riding the cotton pony this week?”

“I’m tired of all the goddamn gossip up in here.” Sabelle stepped in front of the slightly taller female. “He’s a straight shooter. Step off.”

“So, what’s he doing with you? Ain’t he supposed to be locked up?”

“Ain’t you supposed to be working? Mind your own damn business.” After dropping her bag off, she returned to Gavin. “Gonna be a long night. Might want to find a seat. This place fills up quick.” She placed a hand on her hip. “Wanna drink? No absinthe here.”

Gavin tipped his head with a suspicious knitting of his brows.

“I, uh … everyone at
Sanctuary
pretty much knew the bossman’s drink of choice.”

“Beer’s fine.”

“Got it.” She spun around and strode back to place his order. Knocking her knuckles against the bartop summoned Cap, better known as The Captain, for his drink of choice. “Need a Heineken.”

“Fancy Schmancy.”

Fancier than that.
Cap filled a pilsner and set the bottle beside it. “You find one with money, Sabelle?”

“Fuck yourself.” She smiled, nabbing the bottle and glass. The banter between them had begun her first night, when Cap made a point to embarrass her in front of the other waitresses. Sabelle expected nothing less from the cocky asshole.

All in good fun, though.

Sabelle set the drink down on Gavin’s table.

“I’m sorry I don’t have cash for a tip.” Gavin rested his hand on the back of the booth. Casual, but damn, the way his shirt kinda tugged open, giving just a small glimpse of the Wrath skull tattooed on his chest, cast a zing straight to her tits. Panic had her slouching her shoulders when his eyes trailed downward … like, where she’d just been ogling. “You have my card.”

“I’m not charging your card for my tip. The drinks’re on me. Just … please, don’t go crazy. I’ve got a water bill to pay this week.”

“I have no more desire to go crazy on human beer, than I do to recycle my own piss.”

Sabelle smirked. “I never knew you to be so crude. Always thought you were a tight-lipped asshole, to be honest.”

“Only when dealing with unruly waitresses.” Gavin returned the smile.

The reminder of his having fired her should’ve burned Sabelle’s blood—at least it had every other time the nagging memory popped in her head. Somehow, though, his playful tone eased accusation still lingering between them—the absurd notion that Sabelle had stolen from the casino. Never in her life would she ruin the opportunity to work at a place like Sanctuary. The theft happened to have been fabricated by the dickwad pitboss who had something against the succubi. “I’ll see you in a bit. Don’t have too much fun.”

Gavin gave a cursory glance around the mostly empty bar. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

***

As expected, the bar thickened with patrons, leaving Sabelle rushed as always. So rushed, she hadn’t noticed the empty booth where Gavin had been sitting. She frowned, gaze swimming through the throng of moving bodies, until it landed on, hands down, the sexiest male up in the club. Okay, yeah. Female radar could be pretty spot on, and the fact that every woman seemed to fall into a trance while looking at Gavin sort of pissed her off. At the very least, she could say he was an arrogant rich bastard with a big head. But what kind of rich bastard would willingly don clothes that someone else had discarded as junk?

The man usually wore Armani, expensive cologne, drove fast sports cars and probably dined on meals that cost a year’s worth of groceries in her household. Yet, there he stood, sipping on his ordinary beer, wearing secondhand clothes, in a shitty ass bar. And
still
looked like a million bucks.