Soul Enslaved (Sons of Wrath Book 3) (63 page)

Sabelle’s lip curled. “He was never yours,
bitch
. If he had been, your ass wouldn’t be sobbing, alone in your own misery.” Sabelle cut her binds and stepped back, as she rolled to her feet from the bed.

“The only reason my ass is alone is you stinking pieces of shit succubi have powers of persuasion that the rest of us don’t have. If you whores weren’t so fucking manipulative, you’d never have the power to bring a man to his knees.”

“Maybe not.” Sabelle cracked her fist into the woman’s cheekbone, smiling at the crunch when she dropped to her knees before kissing the floor. “But I guess evolution favored manipulative bitches over cheating cunts.”

***

Abandoned buildings all looked the same. Dark. Tired. Haunted.
The Globe
premises stretched across Atwater and Orleans behind a fence that guarded the adjacent trash-littered property. Sabelle’s stomach shrank at the sight of it—the dirty, abandonment where Gavin could have very well spent his final moments alone. Windows had been busted out, like most of the buildings left to ruin in Detroit. Graffiti decorated the walls with profanity, though the growing moss and vine climbing the brick hindered its legibility.

She thought of the white sterile room where she’d been certain, a number of times, that she’d died. Whether white and sterile, or dark and abandoned, the fear of dying alone remained the same.

Logan cut the lights before stopping the vehicle alongside the curb and, twisting around in his seat, he pointed at Sabelle. “I vote she stays here. This could be some shit going down.”

Sabelle rolled her eyes. “Logan, I appreciate you looking out for my wellbeing, but if Gavin’s in there, I’m going, with or without your permission.”

“This could get dangerous, Sabelle. The man who has Gavin is a very powerful lord in the underworld. This isn’t going to be a bunch of biker rejects in a bar. These will be trained killers.”

“Like Jessica? I did a fine job taking her ass out.”

Xander’s grin stretched his lips. “Did I mention I like this woman?”

“He’d walk through hell for me. He
has
walked through hell for me. I want him to know I’d do the same for him.”

“And it’d be a shame if a good woman like you died.” Ferno didn’t bother to look at her, but his words pierced just the same.

“I won’t.” She climbed out of the vehicle, frustrated with the exchange. Yeah, she got it—they were looking out for Gavin’s girl—but to hell with wasting any more time discussing shit.

All four demons exited the vehicle after her. By gods, if any one of them tried to stop her …

Logan grumbled as he passed her, taking the lead, and stalked around the perimeter for guards, the rest of them falling in line.

“We’re going to spread out. All of us will hit the first floor from different angles. We’ll meet in the middle.” Logan pointed to Sabelle. “You, stay your ass out of the hot zone. If there’s a fight, you duck out somewhere and hide until it’s over. Clear?”

Sure, unless the fight involves Gavin
. “Yes.”

Each brother and Sabelle gave a nod, and Logan threw his fist into the particle board nailed to the entrance. Within, tall steel beams reached upward toward the high ceiling, three stories above the ground. Shattered glass and debris lay scattered across the floor. A staircase stood off in the distance and, as the brothers separated, Sabelle headed toward those. Everything in the building seemed to be made of steel, including the structure of the staircase, surrounded by the busted concrete.

It seemed quiet, as Sabelle climbed the steps. Too quiet.

Sabelle came to a stop at the top, and a clatter had her stiffening against a wall, scarcely daring a breath when a flash moved in her periphery. Sequestered by steel beams and decayed, crumbling brick, she watched in awe as the creature stopped just short of the edge, overlooking the first floor.

It stood the size of a semi truck, a long, black glistening carapace covering it’s body, with a tail that curved upward, like a scorpion. The upper body seemed to be a cross between a demon and insect, with large black eyes, a human-looking torso, and thin, spindly arms that ended in claws.

Sabelle sucked in a breath and clamped her mouth shut. Holy shit, her heart pounded inside her chest, as she watched it stalk the demons one level below her, where they gathered in the center of the building, Logan shaking his head.

Its body tipped forward, as if it meant to climb down the wall, but didn’t make the slightest sound. Holding her breath, Sabelle lifted a rusted tin can from the floor and chucked it over the railing. The can flew through the air, landing on the ground level, behind Ferno, just as the creature scampered farther down the wall.

All four demons turned.

“Oh, fuck!” Maddox shouted, as the beast pounced toward them.

A burst of flames radiated from Ferno’s body, and the high-pitched squeal, followed by a hiss, told Sabelle the creature had been wounded.

She stepped forward into the darkness. What if another waited? It didn’t matter. Gavin was in there somewhere. He could be hurt.

She swallowed the thought that he could be dead and prowled along the shadows, eyes peeled for any hint of a glistening carapace. Thankfully, distant sounds of hissing and squealing meant the demons must’ve gotten the upper hand. Down a dark hallway, she picked up on low grunts coming from one of the rooms ahead. Sabelle slowed her steps, keeping against the wall. She turned the knob and cracked the door, catching sight of movement, feet caught in a spasm like a seizure.

Widening the door brought the horror of what lay on the other side.

“Oh, God,” she murmured.

***

Logan removed his dagger from the beast’s heart and took a long, heaving breath. Holy hell, it’d been years since he last fought a Scorpiusz, and those bastards never went down easy, but Ferno managed to keep its ass nice and charred so a few choice parries and jabs made for an easy victory.

The demon lay on the ground, its stinger already chopped away, twitching beside it.

“Jesus Christ.” Maddox’s voice carried a tone grim enough to tear Logan’s momentary smugness.

He glanced up. From the second level, two more beasts crawled down the wall, headed directly toward them. Logan straightened his stance and tugged an extra dagger from the second holster on his hip.

The beast sprang forward.

Fuck me.

***

Sabelle rushed inside the room, dagger in hand, and cut away the binds holding the old man lying naked on the table. Barbed steel had been used as a gag, and she cut the wiring, pulling the barbs from his flesh. His eyes were rolled back, and his skin felt cold as ice. Blood trickled out of his eyes and at the corner of his mouth.

She held him still, hands sliding against the open wounds marring his body. He finally stopped writhing though his eyes remained rolled back.

“You’re okay. I’m not here to hurt you.” She stroked his hair. “I’m looking for a man. His name is Gavin. Is he here?”

Stone gray irises rolled down from his lids, and his stare landed on her. Deep red filled the white. “Yes,” he rasped.

“What’s your name?”

“A … Aeguza.”

She recognized the name. The lord who’d gotten her free from prison. Oh, God. “The Wrath brothers are here. We’re going to get you out of here, but I have to find Gavin. I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

The man broke into sobs. Sabelle wished she had something to cover his body, but nothing lay around. Not that she’d cover him with something dirty, anyway.

“Stay here. I will return.”

His eyes rolled back, and Sabelle crept back into the hallway.

Tiptoes brought her to another door. She peeked inside the crack, to find blood pooled on the floor. As it trickled around her boot where she stood, her heart caught in her throat.
So much blood
.

A tall, hearty male stood over a body stretched out on the concrete table, and narrowing her eyes brought his face into focus through the darkened room.

Him.

The male from the alley, who’d offered her the money and freedom to walk away from Gavin. The horrific scar on his face was a dead giveaway.
Inconsequential
, as he’d named himself—
butcher
, as she saw him right then. She’d almost turned Gavin over to him herself. Walked away. Clutching her stomach didn’t abate the rise of bile. Her hands trembled against her lips as she fought the urge to throw up.

Keep it together.
She could beat herself with guilt later.

Tools had been lodged into the flesh of the male on the table, and seemed to be holding his gaping wounds open. His tormentor stabbed a syringe into the male’s neck, and a roar of pain filled the air. The distinct voice stiffened her spine.

Gavin
.

Sabelle swallowed a gulp, her adrenaline pumping, pulse racing. She dropped to the floor, as the butcher turned back to a bench, and crawled across the blood soaked floor until crouched just below Gavin’s mutilated body. Bowing her head, she sucked in deep breaths. All she had was a dagger. The butcher had an arsenal. If she failed, she’d fail Gavin, as well as herself.

But she couldn’t stand the idea that, after all she’d been through with Gavin, he’d die at the hand of a stranger, laid out like a piece of meat, while she had the opportunity to save him. She wouldn’t let him die. Even at the risk of her own life, she simply
couldn’t
let that happen.

Gavin’s groans called to her instincts, her willingness to save and protect what was hers. Gritting her teeth, she tightened her muscles, crawled around the table, and by that same instinct, stabbed the bastard in his shin. He dropped the second syringe to the floor, and, without even knowing what the hell it contained, she jabbed it in his arm, as he bent forward to pull her up.

Liquid black eyes, filled with rage, consumed her view. “Fuck! Do you know what you’ve done?” He slammed her body against Gavin’s. “Fuck!”

Drawing back an arm, he held the dagger above his head. As his gaze fell to her throat, where the necklace that Gavin had given her dangled—the whistle—his eyes widened, trance-like.

As if he’d suddenly lost his mind, he slammed his palms against his ears and cried out. Stepping back, he dropped the blade, chest heaving, as if he was …
afraid
? Of her?

Straightening, Sabelle stepped toward him, and he backed himself up more. He paused in the doorway, meeting her in a deadlock stare, but when Sabelle leaned forward to take another step, his lip curled, and he took off.

Well, that was fucking weird.
She’d have to evaluate it later, though. She spun and dashed toward the table, cutting Gavin’s binds, but he lay unconscious throughout.

She slapped at his cheek. “Gavin? Wake up, Gavin! Wake up!”

Still, he didn’t rouse, and she lifted the syringe beside him. The clear fluid inside gave no hint as to what could’ve possibly been injected into him. His face felt hot, his body burning up, as his skin took on a red cast. The suction of his gaping wounds trying to close drew her attention to where silver tools had been wedged into his flesh. He’d been sliced across his face and along his neck. Tortured and mutilated.

She tugged the instruments from his legs, his abdomen, tossing them to the floor, and returned to his sleeping face. “Gavin!” Sabelle placed her head to his chest. No heartbeat. Head snapping up, she studied his face, desperate for any sign of life. “Gavin!”

Tipping his head back, she administered mouth to mouth followed by chest compressions. Listened. Still no heartbeat. She repeated the steps. Listened again. Nothing.

Tears sprang in her eyes.
No. Not Gavin
.
Gods be damned, if you take him.

“Don’t you die. Don’t you fucking die, Gavin.” She punched his chest. “Wake! Wake up! You hear me? I love you! And I’ve never loved any man in my whole life, so you wake up!”

His body didn’t so much as flinch.

Disbelief consumed her. Anger and pain clashing together inside of her gut. She let out a gut-wrenching cry, slapping her hands to her ears when it reverberated back. She fell forward, covering his battered torso, and sobs burst from her chest.

His words from earlier, back at Jeven’s, came crashing down on her.

I will walk through hell’s fire to bring Denya back … Whatever it takes. For you.

The reality stabbed her heart, and she curled her fingers into fists with an urge to punch something.

No
. She refused to let that be his end. He deserved better. He deserved a chance.

She jerked up and twisted toward the tray of tools. Two more syringes sat beside one another. One, a dark burgundy liquid. The other, white. She scoured the room, eyes scanning, and found two rats feasting on what looked to be pieces of Gavin’s flesh. A rat lay unmoving beside the meat. One of the two rose up on its hinds legs, as if in a defensive stance and squealed, falling beside the other dead rat. Sabelle lifted it, avoiding its weak attempt to bite her and jabbed the first needle into its body. The rat did nothing. Didn’t move. Didn’t squeal. Nothing.

A minute passed. Still nothing.

Sabelle jabbed the second needle and fed only a portion of the white fluid. The rat twitched in her grasp. It curled on itself and bit her finger.

“Fuck!” Sabelle dropped the rodent to the floor and, heading back to the slab, stabbed the syringe into Gavin’s body.

“Wake up! Wake up!” She slapped him. “Fucking wa-wake up!” She broke into sobs once more.

The first tickle brushed across her skin, and Sabelle lifted her head. Hairs stood on end across her arm, and, taking the warning, she skimmed her gaze in a slow trail toward the door.

From the hollow space, two black, beady eyes watched her.

No.

She rose up from Gavin’s body, but black flashed like lightning and cinched Sabelle’s waist, hefting her into the air. She flew across the space separating her from the beast until she hung before it like a dangling carrot. It licked its lips. Those lifeless eyes roved her body. The grip across her waist tightened, and Sabelle cried out. “Motherfucker!”