Succubus Chained (Paranormal Prison)

by Heather Long

  Just saying.

  Chapter 2

  “A lion’s work hours are only when he’s hungry; once he’s satisfied, the predator and prey live peacefully together.” - Chuck Jones

  The next week passed much as the first two here had. I’d finally begun to decorate my new vacation house. The one I hadn’t purchased yet, but would be on my list when I got out of here. I used to have this really great loft apartment that overlooked a river. Some nights, when there were fireworks, I could lie in bed and watch them go off.

  My new place would be high up, too. Something with lots of windows…whether I could take the sun or not was semantics. I hadn’t actually tested the theory. I’d pretty much woken up trashed, dead, and sporting some semi-fangs that weren’t as nice as those you could buy at a costume shop.

  Then I was here.

  In this hole at the bottom of the world.

  Focus. The mental chastisement pulled me back to the target. Cliff house, maybe something sitting up on a bluff. I wanted to look out over the ocean this time, not just a river, and I didn’t want city lights in the distance…or did I?

  Compromise. Put a secondary deck on the opposite side that would let me look at a city in the distance. That would work, but I wanted my bedroom open to the ocean. I wanted to be able to throw open the windows and let in the breeze. I wanted to taste fresh, salty air and feel the sun warm my skin.

  A clang in the hall jerked me out of my building. Irritated, I sat up on the bed as the first clang was followed by a second. Then the unrelenting clanging grew in force and volume. My head began to pulse in time to the banging, and I scowled.

  It was too early for Dorran to come calling. He’d only come twice in the last seven days. Both times because I’d refused to feed. The last time had been the night before. My hunger and my body were both well-sated. I usually enjoyed a lovely period of hazy daydreaming in the first couple of days after glutting myself.

  As distasteful as drinking blood was, I had begun craving his. Probably why the fresh blood bags they’d delivered at first light still lay right next to the door. I wasn’t touching them. I didn’t even like how they smelled.

  The racket outside increased in volume until it seemed the pound right through my body, splintering any focus I tried to rebuild. Glaring at the door, I waited. This was a departure in my routine.

  After three weeks of staring at walls punctuated by nightly screaming and the regular visits of the warden for some bouts of fucking and feeding, this stood out.

  The clanging stopped abruptly a split-second before the metal of my door screeched a complaint when it was hauled open. It didn’t open inward, no, that would allow me to block it. It swung out, so they could also barricade me in.

  A guard filled the doorway. Well, maybe it was a guard. He was dressed in a heavy black uniform with tight leather breeches that were doing fabulous things for his thighs. His ferocious expression betrayed nothing.

  Dude had mastered resting dick face.

  Awesome.

  The piercing frost of his almost silver eyes bored right through me. “Fiona MacRieve?”

  Rolling my shoulders back, I gave him a bored look. “Depends.”

  “On what?” he barked in a growly voice, something like shock creeping across his scruffed face. The straight edged nose above his very full lips added to the overall appeal. He didn’t belong in this dark, dank place. The flickering light from the sconces played over his face and warmed him a fraction.

  Course, that could just be a trick of the light.

  He took a single step inside, but I didn’t respond. Instead, I just watched him. The sudden shift in routine offered me an opportunity. The question was what kind opportunity.

  “Answer the question, woman,” he growled, then his nostrils flared as he studied me. Another deep inhale, and he frowned even deeper.

  One moment, he was at the door, and the next, he was in front of me. The flash of movement so swift, I didn’t have time to escape before he hauled me up by the arms. “Are you Fiona MacRieve?”

  “Well, like I said,” I drawled slowly. “That depends on who’s asking.” Poor fool. This close, I could taste the desire and lust simmering under his fierce exterior. The ice in those eyes cloaked a much deeper fire. The male reminded me of the warden in some ways. Rich, powerful, and intoxicating in his wantonness—funnily enough, it wasn’t my body pulling at him at the moment. The lust wasn’t physical.

  But it was primal.

  I could work with that.

  Ignoring his bruising grip on my arms, I lifted a hand to test the roughness of his face. “Who are you, sugar?”

  His nostrils flared even as his pupils expanded then constricted to pinpricks. That was also different.

  And not in a good way.

  “Yes, you’re her,” he answered his own question instead of mine. When he thrust his face at my throat, I slammed my knee up between his very sexy thighs. Those gorgeous leather breeches really did him justice.

  Unfortunately—for him anyway—he wasn’t wearing a cup. Across nearly all creatures shadowy and otherwise, the male of the species was very vulnerable to attacks on their genitals, provoked or not.

  Though, arguably, if someone slammed their leg up against my pussy like that, I would be in similar pain. His grimace at the blow promised me I’d landed it true, but he didn’t release me.

  I repeated the gesture, and this time, I slammed my head forward at the same time. That beautiful nose I’d been admiring crunched gorgeously, and his pained gasp accompanied the sudden release of my arms. As he swayed, I shoved him backward. The head butting left me seeing stars, but I’d stumbled out of plenty of bars drunk off my ass riding the lustful wave of humanity, I didn’t need to see clearly to move.

  Once out in the hall, I swung my gaze left and then right. Fantastic, it was all rough-hewn stone, and both directions looked exactly the same.

  Fine, I went right.

  I passed by other iron doors, locked and barricaded. I didn’t bother to try them. They opened out. The door to get out of here would open also open out, but I would be on the inside of it.

  Jogging, I thrilled to the fact Dorran had fed me so well, even if he’d left me sore and achy in all the right ways. But I was full, and I had strength. The hallway seemed to elongate or stretch on to infinity. There were no bends or curves.

  That wasn’t good. If I couldn’t find a corner to turn soon, there was every chance my surprise visitor would catch me up. He definitely had fit and virile going on for him, even if I’d left him breathless and cupping his nuts like a little bitch.

  Served him right.

  I’d barely found the door I could push outward when the scuff of a step on stone reached my ears.

  Dammit.

  Risking a magical shock, I shoved the door open. The racket clanged up the hallway. The volume jolted me.

  All the doors I’d passed…

  Dick boy—fine, man—had opened every door along the hall on his way to me. That explained the clanging racket. Not good. No one had stopped him, that meant the guard had either been dispatched down here to fetch me for something nefarious or more likely to just kill me.

  Stumbling out into a stairwell, I growled to myself. The door slammed shut behind me with tremendous force. Yeah, no one would miss the gong of that.

  Up?

  Down?

  Damn good question.

  The obvious answer would be up, because I’d been in the pit, right? No windows, sealed inside a stone coffin that just happened to be room-sized. I didn’t have time to debate this in a committee of me, myself, and I. I flipped a mental coin.

  Fine.

  Down it was.

  If up was the obvious answer, then down would be the correct route.

  Descending the stone steps, I kept close to the wall. The smell of musk grew stronger the lower I went. Wet animals. Maybe dog.

  Wolf.

  Ugh.

  Howling echoed behind the first set of doo
rs I reached. Yeah, not opening the door to find the big, oversized floofballs who wanted to rip out my throat. Last time I checked, vamps and wolves weren’t exactly kissing cousins.

  More like spitting, snarling, and teeth gnashing. Though my bestie had been a wolf. Hopefully, he hadn’t heard about the latest and greatest. It’d be a real bitch to have to throw down with Elias.

  Man could make a smoked brisket better than anyone I’d ever known, and I’d be really pissed if I never got invited over for dinner anymore. Continuing the downward trajectory, I listened for the raucous noise of the door opening above. Hopefully, when dick man got there, he’d go up.

  Up made sense.

  Why the fuck had I thought going down made more sense?

  It was three more flights before I found another door of any kind. Was I about to knock on Hell’s back door?

  Like the door from my floor to the stairwell, this one opened away from the hall. I extended a hand to test the magical protections. I was on the outside, so they should be geared toward keeping stuff in, not out?

  Then again, I went down—look, it seemed reasonable at the time, and I might still be a little drunk on Dorran—so what did I know?

  Energy licked against my fingers, and the vaguest of hums touched my ears. Dammit. Definitely warded. Warded to what? Give a sweet tickle, or blow someone’s head off?

  Last I checked, those spells were actually in the same category. Don’t look at me like that, succubus here, not a witch. They do some messed up stuff.

  A hush of breath was my only warning before powerful hands seized me, hauled me backward, and slammed me against the wall.

  “Oh,” I drawled after I caught my breath again. Having it all knocked out of me was a point in my favor. Fucking vampires didn’t need to breathe. I did.

  Score one for me. Take that you twisted fucks.

  Still, I stared up at the now bloodied face of my erstwhile visitor and his very, excuse me, extremely pissed off face. Resting dick face had taken active to a whole new level.

  “You are a pain in the ass,” he snarled.

  “Look who’s talking, jackass,” I retorted. “I was minding my own business in that cell when you got all handsy.” For evidence I glanced at those huge paws he called hands currently pinning me to the wall. In fact, most of him was pinning me to the wall, and it was hot.

  His lustful fragrance swarmed me, and I wanted to take hits off of it. I might need the extra boost, but I didn’t need to go into a stupor, so I kept it to the mouth breathing.

  For. The. Moment.

  “Why do you smell like a man?”

  “Because you’re a little whacked. Trust me, no penis here. Currrently.”

  I smirked at my response.

  “Need to check?” I widened my stance a little. It took some wiggling, but it ground me against him and the now very thick evidence of his penis. “I can feel yours, seems only fair you check out mine or the lack thereof.”

  His growl vibrated right through me, and fuck, that felt good. Okay, first, I didn’t need to feed, so stop it. Second, growling boy might want to eat me and not even in a nice way, so focus.

  Tilting my head to the side, I considered licking him just to see what he would do.

  Could be fun.

  Might get me killed.

  Both were definitely more than I had to do an hour ago.

  “Also, kudos for the erection, man. I was pretty sure two slams of my knee would have knocked your balls into your throat.”

  Poor baby was not amused.

  “Who touched you?” Each word came out on a spikey, near guttural sound, swallowing the vowels.

  Kind of sexy in a primitive caveman way.

  “At the moment, hot stuff, that would be you.”

  He shook me once. This close to the wall, it only served to knock my skull against the stone. Great, the stars I’d still been seeing since earlier now had do-si-do partners to dance with.

  “Who fucked you?”

  Oh.

  That.

  “Do you really want to know?” I asked, more curious than anything for his response.

  “Yes,” he rasped.

  “Let’s see—that would be ‘none’ and ‘of’ along side ‘your fucking’ and wait for it, ‘business.’”

  His brows pulled together. “You’ll tell me, and I’ll deal with it.”

  “Yeah, okay, this isn’t entertaining anymore. We need to communicate in more than grunts.” When he pushed his hips at me again, I debated his reaction if I slammed my knee up once more. He was pretty hard. “Thanks for the offer, by the way, I’m not hungry.”

  A puzzled look crossed his face for a split second, then he did something utterly unexpected.

  He laughed. What the fuck?

  Before I could verbalize the question, he closed his exceptionally large hand around my throat. While he didn’t squeeze, the strength there couldn’t be denied. “I wasn’t offering you my blood, Fiona,” he told me.

  “I didn’t think you were, since it’s all in your cock,” I countered.

  He snorted. “Thank you for confirming you’re Fiona.”

  “Discussing your dick does not make me Fiona.”

  Frustration filled his eyes. “Why are you being difficult?”

  Was he for real?

  “Um…look around,” I pointed out. “What do you see?”

  “You descending to the darkest parts of the penitentiary, where even the most dangerous hunters would be loathe to go.”

  “Cool, you run along then.” Dammit, I knew I should have gone up.

  He let out aggrieved sigh. “Not without you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m here to rescue you.”

  Rescue. Me.

  “Why the fuck didn’t you say that upstairs instead of getting all monosyllabic and snarly?”

  “Because you smell like another man, he’s been all over you.” He tilted my head to the side and then stroked his thumb over my throat. Told you Dorran liked to mark me. “He’s done it recently, too. Are you sure you won’t tell me who?”

  “Nope,” I said. “I don’t fuck and tell. Rules of the game.”

  Not really, but I didn’t know this guy, and rescue or not, I was not in the mood for this crap.

  His lips compressed into a thin line, and he dropped his hand from my throat. When he backed up a single step and gave me room to breathe, I narrowed my eyes. That was an unexpected twist. Reaching behind him, he pulled out a pair of shackles, and I glared at him.

  “No.” I was not going in chains.

  “You have to,” he said. “I’m a guard. I can get you out if I escort you. But prisoners are not allowed to roam freely.”

  “No.” I folded my arms. I was not going to put those on willing.

  “I will take them off, Fiona. I promise.” The growl underscoring each syllable didn’t inspire confidence. Besides…

  “I don’t even know you, why would your promise mean shit to me?”

  “My name is Maddox.” He intoned it so formally, like I would recognize him by the moniker alone. Was it like Madonna or Cher? If so, ‘fraid it was lost on me. “I’m here to see you to safety.”

  “Define safety,” I challenged. “And why I should believe you just because of your name, which for the record, doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  Surprise crystalized in his expression edged by real frustration.

  Yeah, I had a gift.

  “Woman, I don’t care if you believe me. I’ll carry you out of here kicking and screaming. I can knock you out if I have to.” He dragged my arm out and slammed one of the shackles on. It burned as it snapped around my wrist. “I’m rescuing you whether you want to go or not.”

  Why the fuck would I not want to go?

  I just wanted to know whether I was going somewhere better or not.

  He wrestled me into the second shackle, and I let out a frustrated scream as it closed on my free wrist. They were spelled. The magic in them burned where th
ey rested against my flesh. Dick face—Maddox—stared down as my skin began to blister and smoke.

  “That should not be happening.”

  Oh.

  That was it.

  This guy?

  I was killing him first.

  Shackled wrists and all, I clenched my fists together and struck both at his bloody nose.

  If I didn’t break it the first time, I was damn well going to break it now. Unfortunately, he caught the slender chain locking my wrists together and hauled my arms up to slam them against the wall before he boxed me against it again.

  “Stop fighting me,” he ordered. “The shackles have a spell.”

  “No shit.”

  “The spell is to help us get you out.”

  Us.

  Wait.

  Gritting my teeth against the blistering sensation crawling over my skin and scalding it, I asked, “Who’s us?”

  A flash of teeth. “You’ll find out. When you come with me.”

  I hated this man.

  Alarms began to sound and doors above opened with a clang. His expression turned furious. When he turned that glare on me, I gave him a little shrug. Or at least, as much as I could manage pinned to the wall in his murder bracelets.

  “Oops?”

  Chapter 3

  “The beauty of the soul shines out when a man bears with composure one heavy mischance after another, not because he does not feel them, but because he is a man of high and heroic temper.” - Aristotle

  Maddox

  If he didn’t want to kill her, Maddox might end up liking her. As it was, she fought like a hellion, blooded him, and managed to evade him by persistently doing the unexpected. As more doors opened above, he clenched his jaw. Then again, if he managed to get both of them to safety before this was over, he might just kill her himself and to hell with what Fin wanted.

  Cutting his attention back to her red and blistering wrists, he ground his teeth together. The wild, erratic path had taken them far from the mapped exit. More guards would be upon them at any minute.