Soul Enslaved (Sons of Wrath Book 3) (4 page)

“I’m sorry. I’m not for sale. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk like that in front of my kids—sleeping, or not.”

“I’d appreciate you not being a fucking tease, either, but I guess the world ain’t fair, is it, Red?”

She recoiled at the question. “How did I tease you?”

“You’ve got on shorts that show half your ass cheeks, bending over the trunk of the car. Just asking for trouble.”

Sabelle mentally counted the blocks left to reach her home. Though, she didn’t like the idea of him knowing where she lived, either. Of course, a simple check of the plates would’ve revealed those details to him.

“You’re beautiful,” he continued. “The most beautiful fucking thing I’ve seen in a long ass time and I’m about as hard as a tree trunk right now.” He glanced back. “What do you say? A quickie, for me saving you back there? You climb in front. The kids won’t even know.”

Cock-sucking monkey-balls, she could hammer her fist in his sleazy-ass face. “I don’t think so.” Her arms stiffened, fingers locking into that old, familiar punch mode. Was a goddamn miracle her hands didn’t cramp in a day.

The car pulled to the side of the road in an area where, though familiar, most folks would probably lock their doors. “Get the fuck out.”

Gladly
. Sabelle scrambled to grab Thomas and Jane.

“Mommy?” Thomas asked, stirring.

“It’s all right, sweetheart. Come on. Let’s get out of the car now.”

“W-w-where are we?” Thomas glanced around. “P-p-police car?”

“It’s okay, baby. Come here. We’re going now.” She slid out of the backseat into the cool summer air once more. At least Thomas was awake to walk.

As the cop car squealed away, Sabelle held back the urge to cry. All around where she stood, houses sat dark and quiet, dilapidated with
stay the hell out
literally painted across some of the weathered exteriors.

Clearing her throat, she took Thomas’ hand and they quickly ambled toward home, as fast as his little feet could move.

Two blocks later, Sabelle reached the quaint little hellhole she called home and tore down the all-telling yellow slip that’d been plastered in plain sight to her front door.

Fuckers
. She already knew what the damn thing said. Certified mail. Never good news. She’d received one every week for the last two months. Her house was in foreclosure. The city had to be turning off her water soon, and the electric company was one step from cutting the power. Her life was one big, life-sucking hole of trying to keep her head above the goddamn surface, and no doubt, some scheming hog sat back, his cushioned ass plunked down on his plush leather chair while his concubine secretary gave him head under the desk, as he toyed with the strings of her life.

“To hell with you,” she mumbled. Crumpling the paper, she pushed through the door, exhausted and needing a bath more than she probably needed the dinner she’d skipped.

“W-w-what was it, Mommy?” Poor Thomas and his stuttering. He didn’t say much to people because of it.

“Nothing, sweets. Let’s get you to bed.”

Stairs quietly croaked beneath her weight, as she made her way toward the twins’ bedroom. Janie stretched as she set her down atop the mattress, and Thomas climbed beside her. Sabelle kissed both children and stroked her son’s blond hair. “G’night, baby.”

“N-n-night, Momma.” His eyes fluttered closed.

Sabelle rose from the bed, but tightness in her heart yanked her from the momentary bliss of seeing her two babies sleeping, as she stared down at the crumpled paper in her hands.

Something has to change. There has to be something better than this.

The kids’d be in school soon, and what then? Carting them around at two in the morning certainly wouldn’t win her the award for ‘PTA Mom of the Year’.

After leaving their room, she stopped in the bathroom to flip on the tub before heading towards her bedroom.

Moonlight cut through the darkness and Sabelle reveled in the silence. There’d always been something about moonlight that put her mind at ease. A light which offered some protection that the daylight never afforded her.

She slipped her shirt over her head, leaving only her bra. As she tossed it behind her, a cold grip cinched her throat.

“Hello, love.”

Sabelle’s body froze in his grasp, her stomach sinking with the recognition of his voice.

Jeven
.

Only one person in a succubus’s world could incite the level of repulsion she felt at that very moment—her pimp. At the age of fruition, roughly sixteen-seventeen years old, all succubi were assigned a pimp of sorts—a Lenovidus demon who collected souls from the succubi to take back to the underworld.

Jeven had long been her own personal nightmare.

“I hear you’re not following our agreement, Sabelle.”

“Do you really want me to fuck another man for his soul, Jeven?”

He twisted her to face him, and his lip curled into a snarl. “There are other ways of collecting souls.”

“A lifetime of getting men off. Sign me the hell up.” She tugged at his immovable grasp. “What do you want?”

“You. Now.”

“No.” Bending his thumb backward did nothing, as he squeezed tight against her throat. “Let go of me, or by the gods, I will …”

“You’ll what?” he whispered in her ear. “Tell the council our little secret?”

Of course he’d throw that in her face. Having children with a pimp was forbidden in the underworld, a fact that Jeven seemed happy to dangle over her head every time she denied him of sex. “You love yourself too damn much, asshole,” she spat at him.

His hands slipped around her body, and a tight grip between her thighs forced a gasp. Sabelle stifled a yelp as his fingers dug into her. She wrenched herself from his hold and slapped him across the face—which brought instant remorse.

The back of Jeven’s hand came down hard, a resonating sting against her cheek. “I’ll touch you however the fuck I want.” The disarray of his blond, wavy hair told her he’d been running his hands through it all night. His blue eyes, lined with deep, black circles confessed lack of sleep and stared back without the slightest hint of apology, as Sabelle wiped the blood from her split lip.

“You’re high. You haven’t slept. Go home.”

“You belong to me. My little bitch. Now …” He pushed against her shoulders. “Get on your knees.”

Sabelle snapped her head forward and delighted in the crunch of cartilage on contact.

“Fucking bitch!” He stumbled back just enough for Sabelle to tug the dagger from her top dresser drawer and prop it beneath his chin.

“The council may consider you an authority over me. But I don’t. Get the fuck out of my house.”

Nothing about the smile that skated across his face promised anything good. “You always were a feisty one, Sabelle.” His fingers seized her throat again, and they stood at a duel, the blade popping into his skin and drawing blood.

“Rot in hell.”

“Ladies first.” The fucking happy teeth peeking through his grin taunted her grip. “You gonna kill me, sweetheart? Go ahead. Slice that steel across my throat. Watch me bleed out right here.”

A rush of adrenaline had her body trembling.
Kill him. Just kill him
. She wanted to. Had dreamed of it since that first night he’d taken her virginity, robbed her of innocence, and made her a slave for life.

Pain exploded in her bones when another fist to her cheek sent her flying to the floor, and the dagger bouncing from her grasp. Sabelle lifted herself up onto her palms, dizziness swirling through her head from the ache throbbing in her skull. She dabbed her nose with the back of her hand. A large splotch of blood returned.

“Get up,” Jeven commanded. “Whore.”

So many times she’d wanted to run. Take her kids and go far away, where no one would ever find her.

Except, Jeven
would
find her. He’d been bound to her as a teenager, like most pimps.
Unlike
most pimps, though, he’d also fallen in love with her. Even the darkest shadows wouldn’t keep him from tracking her down. Plus, unlike most of the nightmarish men she could manipulate and scare off, Lenovidus demons happened to be completely immune to the charms of the succubi, which made them the perfect pieces of shit to keep the females in line.

Sabelle rose to her feet, her eyes fixed on Jeven’s. They stared at each other for a moment, before Jeven charged her, pinning her against the wall by her neck. His hold lifted her feet from the floor, and Sabelle kicked and bucked, struggling in his grasp.

“You smell like dick. Tell me something …,” Jeven’s voice rasped in her ear. “Did that dick feel good in you, huh?” He licked and sucked her earlobe.

Sabelle grimaced, repulsed by the wetness of his tongue against her skin.

“Did you come for him?” He jabbed his pelvis against hers, forcing a grunt out of her. “Huh? I’ll bet you screamed like a fucking banshee.”

Mustering what strength she could, she slid her arms between his and gripped his skull, head-butting him once, twice, three times.

His grip of her throat faltered, and she kicked herself off the wall, knocking him backward. His back slammed against the floor, and she landed on top of him.

Something inside of her snapped. Though Sabelle questioned her sanity as she pummeled his face, punching the shit out of him just felt good.

Hysterical laughter echoed in her head. Maddening. He wrangled with her fists, but she somehow managed to swing past his resistance, and each new punch brought forth a fresh spray of blood.

Fist drawn back, ready to strike again, she paused.

“Momma?”

The sound of Thomas’s voice spurred panic, and in spite of her better judgment, Sabelle dropped her fist at the same time that Jeven released her neck. Backing off from Jeven, she pushed to a stand.

“How goes it, little man?”

The whimsy in Jeven’s voice made her sick, as he clambered to his feet beside her, but when he took a step toward the boy, her heart thumped into overdrive and she lurched forward, lifting Thomas into her arms and exhaling only when he buried his face in her hair.

The bastard always made her uneasy when it came to her kids. Like he’d turn them over to the underworld himself.

“Mommy and I were just having some fun.” As Jeven reached to stroke Thomas’s cheek, Sabelle jerked the boy away from him, inciting a scowl. “Mommy’s always such a tease.”

“Leave.”

“One of these days, love, you’ll come to understand: it doesn’t matter where I am, I’ll never leave. And neither will you.” Backing himself to the window, he cast a wicked stare. As he opened it, a gust of wind blew his long blond hair onto his shoulders, and in the next breath, he’d disappeared.

With Thomas still clutched to her, she rushed to lock the window, then took deep breaths to calm the frantic thrumming of her heart before planting a kiss on Thomas’s cheek. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you back to bed,” she whispered.

After tucking in her son, Sabelle made a sweep of her room but froze as a series of splashes reached her ears. “Oh, fuck!” She bolted toward the bathroom.

Water had spilled over the edge of the tub, creating a pool across the floor. A flip of the handle turned it off and her muscles sagged with annoyance. She pulled towels from the closet and tossed them onto the sopping tiles, sinking to her knees.

While the water soaked not only the towel, but also her shins, Sabelle cradled her face in her palms.

It didn’t matter what she did in life, how many fights she won, how many near-misses she survived, Jeven would forever be a part of it, unless she gave into her stubbornness. Pimps were like shadows. He’d never go away—not unless ordered by an authority, one much bigger, more intimidating.

Her body trembled as she resisted sobbing and waking the kids again. She’d often heard the phrase of having to walk through hell to reach heaven. How many more miles? It seemed so far away, the light off in the distance somewhere, and she just couldn’t reach it. Nothing would change. Nothing would ever change. Not unless …

“Okay,” she murmured. “You win. I’ll do it.” She dropped her hands from her face and rested her head against the wall.
Please, gods. Help me make this right. Not for me. For them.
It’d be incredibly dangerous, and she could very well lose everything she loved. But it’d be worth it if the plan worked.

She’d be free.

Tugging the edge of the sink brought her standing in front of the mirror, where the knot from Jeven’s fist had plumped her cheek. Gods, she’d grown tired of fighting. The black-blue plum would mostly heal by morning, thanks to her succubi nature that conveniently hid all traces of a pimp’s abuse.

The only scars left behind would be the memories.

All the more reason to move forward with the plan—her brain carried years of scars, anger, resentment. She needed change. Something to cling to. Something she could promise her children on nights they woke up to her shuffling them down darkened streets and fighting with her pimp.

From the edge of the sink, she nabbed her phone, scrolled through the names until she landed on her Divine Matron, and dialed.

“Nola?” Sabelle expelled a breath, trying to keep tears from touching her voice. “I’m doing it. I’m sorry. I’ve had enough. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Without giving Nola the chance to call back, she clicked the phone off.

Much as she may have thought she’d laid down the law, Nola would never let her do something so crazy, not without having someone much fiercer to watch her ass. To get Nola on board, she’d have to hire a bodyguard.

Only one demon came to mind.

CHAPTER 2

Rock dust clung to Gavin’s skin like a coating of sandpaper, as he swiped his bicep across his forehead and hefted the sledgehammer into the air. The heat seeped through the lava-like ore—an element only found in hell’s prison. Each swing burned his muscles, and his wounds still festered from his earlier session with the Enforcer demon, the one assigned to torment him as punishment. The coated dust itched as the wounds attempted to seal themselves.

Nothing ever healed in Obsidius, though.