Sinful Gods: Paranormal Romance (Hell's Playground Series Book 2)
Page 4
“Don’t sell yourself short, Shaye. You’re a beautiful girl and with the right motivation, I think you’ll accomplish anything you set your mind on.”
Arguing with the Warden isn’t going to get me anywhere. I see the fiery determination in his eyes as though he expects me to protest, but I won’t give him that chance. He removes his cellphone from his pocket and waves me to the door.
I push to my feet, a heaviness settling in my stomach.
And on my way out, Rowan’s words play on my mind.
I need to get you ready to defend yourself.
Chapter Seven
Xanth
Anger and lust tangle in my chest as I escort Shaye back to her cell. She refuses to look at me when I leave her there, and I decide to let her stew. It burns me, but I’ll be back for her whether she likes it or not. The taste of her is still on my lips. It's not enough, but it will have to do for now. I turn on my heels and walk away, hating how she's gotten under my skin.
I round the corner and two losers are on the ground, rolling around, punching.
I stand over them, watching at first, rather enjoying the primal anger of a fight. When their aggression rules the body and instinct takes over.
"Fuck you, asshole." The one with a scar covering the left side of his face sneers at his opponent.
Usually watching them fight is enough for me, but it’s not enough today. My body buzzes with adrenaline.
As the scarred one gets to his feet, I crash into him, throwing an elbow into his throat. He makes a satisfying gurgling sound.
"Shit," his opponent whimpers behind me.
A heavy fist hits my back, but I spin, kicking the criminal's knee out of place. His hysterical screams brings a smile to my face.
Two other guards race up to us and it is too damn quick for my liking. I would have liked to kick these assholes a while longer. "What's going on?"
I shrug, wiping my brow. "These two thought they could beat me." I spit on both of them. "Get them out of my fucking sight."
My fellow guards nod and drag the men away.
Rage still boils in my veins. I hoped the fight would smother some of the flames licking at my insides. Clenching my fists, I march down the hall, right past Shaye’s cell. She’s inside talking to one of her roommates, not even noticing me. When I look at her, all I can picture are images of her beneath me. Stripped naked and moaning.
Truth is I fucked up in the arena. I hate to admit that, but I intend to mend the shit between Shaye and me. Whatever it took.
I go on with my shift, and she’s on my mind constantly. Every light-blonde woman I see, my heart races and I crane my neck to discover it’s not her. The disappointment hangs on me, but even I can’t swap with another guard all the time to keep the rotation that keeps me nearer to her. Warden does that so no one gets too attached to the prisoners and I’ve never minded until now.
Hours later, my shift is over, and there is always a bittersweet feeling at leaving the penitentiary knowing I’m leaving her behind.
The air is crisp against my skin but doesn't lighten the hunger gnawing at me. Harold, the guard in the watchtower opens the outer gate for me. My whole body throbs, and a growl slips from my gut. Hunger. My beast is starved, and when I don’t keep him sated, well let’s just say, shit goes sideways fast. The electric fence buzzes open and I push out, taking the stone path past my Ducati in the parking area and instead swing right toward the graveyard. Just so happens the prison shares grounds with a cemetery. Handy for the inmates who never make it out of the joint, and handy for me.
Oversized oaks pepper the grounds, long limbs covered in leaves dangle over the tombstones. The wooden crosses are crumbling, the names faded long ago. I move to the side where the turned-over dirt marks fresh graves. My power roars within me, demanding to feed, I eagerly spread my arms and throw back my head. Wisps of energy from newly buried corpses waft up into me. I curl the undead energy into the hollow of my magic, filling my well that is nearly dry.
Darkness licks along my bones. And I feel the fear of all the prisoners and even the guards. How they will all end up here, sooner or later for me to pluck their essence while they rot.
The energy of two recently deceased rush at me, buckling my legs. I fall, my knees kissing the earth, my whole body shuddering.
I lick my lips, the remnants of their life essence dancing through me. I inhale it, taking in more and more. It’s never enough.
With each feed, my strength grows. I may not take on the abilities of those I consume, but there’s enough power here to heighten my beast and feed him.
The beast of death. That’s what lives inside me, constantly starved for recently deceased. And I learned long ago that not feeding him comes with grave consequences. The kind that comes in the form of it taking me over and draining the energy of the living. And having a line of dead humans traced back to me will lead me to the electric chair. So, I always sate the monster residing inside me.
My power purrs inside me, and I stay there for a long pause before I finally hike back to the side gate.
I don’t even have to lift my head or do the secret signal before Harold buzzes the gate open. Even from here, I can feel his terror of me, his heart thumping an erratic beat in his chest. Many may not know exactly what I am, but their power can detect I am something dark, something associated with death and slink away from me. Fine with me.
Inside the prison, I head straight to my room. The anger in me calmed somewhat from feasting. But I have another need to take care of. I lock the door behind me though I don’t know why I bother. No one would be stupid enough to come in without knocking and asking permission first.
I kick off my boots, then take off my uniform and throw it in the pile for the laundry. As I brush my teeth, I pull open the secret compartment that shows me the feed on several areas of the prison, including Shaye’s cell.
Her roommates are talking with each other, but she’s off to the side, staring out at the bars. Now doubt, she’s thinking about whatever the Warden talked to her about.
I clench my fists and the toothbrush digs into my palm. The Warden wouldn’t tell me a damn thing about why he wanted a meeting with her. Figured it was just to keep her in line, threaten her with the idea of throwing her back in the arena. But when she’d come out of his office, she’d been wary, not terrified.
With a grunt, I turn to my sink and spit out the foaming toothpaste. I flip on the shower and slide out of my underwear. My cock is hard and throbbing already just by watching her. I get in the shower, letting the hot water run over me.
Closing my eyes, I imagine she’s in here with me. Her hands caress down my chest to grip me. I palm my thick erection back and forth, harder and harder. Fuck!
I open my eyes and stare right at the screen of Shaye’s face from behind the glass shower door. Make her see me. I chant in my mind as my hand moves faster up and down my hard length. I imagine her mouth forming a perfect little ‘o’ and her pussy getting soaking wet in need of me.
My climax builds as I squeeze myself harder. Imagine her here in the shower with me, plowing myself into her over and over. Hearing her little screams and moans as I make her cum.
Harder.
Faster.
I growl out a cry as an orgasm quakes through me. I stroke myself a few more times, letting my cum spray onto the shower wall and picture Shaye there on her knees, taking it all in over her face and those lovely breasts.
Forty-five minutes later and I’m heading to my home outside the prison before I do something stupid like bringing Shaye to my lair again. Seeing Jerry’s bar open sign flashing, I take a detour. It’s my weekend off and I plan on getting fucking drunk and crashing at my house.
I push open the door and a few customers glance my way. The smell of beer hits me first. The beat of the band playing thumps across the floor and up through my feet. Jerry, the bartender, nods from behind the counter. His father is Dionysus, so alcohol is practically in his blood. I slide up to
the bar and he already has my whiskey ready and puts two shots in front of me. He’s a tall man with a trimmed beard and dark hair, and I’ve seen the women flock to his side. He has this unbridled mystery about him that the females love. I’ve often seen him sneak into the back with his latest conquest.
“Haven’t seen you in here for a while. Everything okay at work?”
“Yeah.” I down the first shot and quickly follow with the second. “Got a lot of new prisoners that need hand-holding.” Like Shaye. And how I can still remember the touch of her hands on me, even when she was pushing me away— but her mouth and body were telling me a different story.
Jerry nods.
“Hit me with another round.” I’m not in the mood tonight to be sober and mooning over Shaye and her doe-eyes and soft, silky voice. She’s a fucking contradiction. Meek one moment and slamming her power into Bono the next using all the goddamn water in the spectator’s drinks. And probably some of Bono’s fluids as well to drown him. Fucking brilliant.
“On the house.” Jerry gives me two more shots.
This time I savor the drinks, letting the alcohol take the edge off. But it’s not enough. My mind keeps drifting to Shaye and what she’s doing right now. Is she sleeping? Thinking about our kiss?
A lady dunked in orange perfume sits in the seat next to me. She’s wearing a mini skirt that hides nothing. “Hey handsome, you gonna buy a girl a drink?”
“Sorry, not interested.” With that pickup line, I’m pretty sure she is a working girl.
She flips her red hair off her shoulder, leaning forward to reveal more of her cleavage in her lacy top. “Are you sure? I can pay you back... later.”
When I ignore her, she places a hand on my arm then jerks back with a hiss. That’s right sweetheart. I am death. She just got a glimpse of her death and I bet it wasn’t a pretty sight.
Her face turns grey and she darts to the ladies’ room.
“Shit, Xanth.” Jerry throws the towel over his shoulder onto the counter. “Stop chasing away my customers.”
“Sorry.” I shrug and toss out a couple of bills enough to pay for my drinks and hers. Normally, I’d take the woman up on her offer and fuck her until she screamed her orgasms, and she was hoarse. I wasn’t in the mood for that kind of company tonight. “I’m done. Thanks for the drinks.”
“Anytime as long as you keep your powers in check.”
I give him a salute and head outside.
Instead of heading to my car, I thrust my hands in my pockets and continue up the sidewalk. The streetlights overhead flick on, but there’s enough daylight left to see clearly.
The scent of chocolate wafts from a homemade candy store I pass, and I am drawn inside. Dozens of pieces of every size and color of chocolate I didn’t know existed gleam behind a glass display.
Chocolate was fucking gold in prison. Inmates with a sweet tooth sold off packs of cigarettes for a sliver of the stuff. As addictive as cocaine some said, and I didn’t doubt it. But the image of seeing Shaye devouring chocolate has me reaching for a box of assortments.
Half an hour later, I’m walking out of the store with every damn variety of chocolate in a box. A sample set that the woman behind the counter talked me into. It’s even got a damn red, velvet ribbon tied to the outside. Who would have thought I was the romantic kind?
“Xanth?” a female says behind me. “Oh my gods, it is you.”
With a cringe, I turn and face my cousin. “Penelope.”
Her blonde hair is done up in two buns on the side of her head making her look like a wannabe Princess Leah. She’s wearing overalls with dirt smeared along the top and grass stains on her knees. Her green eyes flash to the box of chocolates I’m holding. “Where are you going? Is that chocolate?”
I arch an eyebrow at her. “Digging in your garden or trying to fix someone else’s?”
Penelope smooths a gloved hand down her side. “Both. Been real busy with spring around the corner. So, what’s up with the candy?” She eyes the candy, curious as a cat.
“Can’t a guy buy chocolate without having to answer why?”
“Guys yes. You, no.” She rocks back on her heels, rubbing her garden glove along her chin. “Never known you to buy a girl anything other than alcohol, so who is she?”
I didn’t have time for this. If I didn’t get away from Penelope soon, she’d either take some of the candy or go running to my father that I was interested in someone other than a lay. Didn’t need dear old dad poking his nose where I didn’t want it. Best he thought I was miserable working at the prison than what he wanted me for.
“It’s a secret Valentine’s Day thing with the guards at work and I got Dana. She likes girls and chocolate so…” I let her draw her conclusions.
“Oh, like a secret Santa thing?”
“Yes, exactly.” I nod. “Better get these back to the prison before they get too warm.”
“Yeah,” she frowns, “especially the way you’re squeezing the box like you’re trying to choke someone. You sure you’re all right, Xanth?” She eyes me suspiciously, pursing her lips, but I take the chance before she grills me. The woman can drag out secrets from a stone, and well she was taught the art of interrogation by my father.
“Gotta go.” I even force a grin and turn away.
“You going to be at the big fight next weekend?” she asks.
I glance over my shoulder to her tilting her head to the side like she’s still trying to figure me out. If there’s one thing I know about my cousin, it’s that she makes a wicked brownie and you better like it if you want to survive. Secondly, she is the gossip queen of the family, and if there’s a thread to pick, she will pull it until she unravels the whole damn truth. Not to mention, I’ve heard from my mother that she visits my father often. Is this something I ought to be worried about? Her sending any information about me to him? I want to ignore it, but also know better.
“What fight?” I feel like someone has punched me in the gut because I already know what she’s going to say.
“That god-killer they've locked up. Even your dad says he’s going this time to ensure the right soul gets taken.”
I grind my teeth, not surprised, yet anger still bleeds through my veins.
Chapter Eight
Nelos
I perch my feet up on the table in the mess hall and bite into my apple. It’s too early for lunch, so that means fewer assholes filling the room. I miss the quiet and personal space. Being in a prison strips you of so much more than personal goods and dignity, but it eradicates the chance to be yourself or feel half-human. I close my eyes and imagine myself back home in the small house I rented just on the beach where I was left alone. Before the nightmare was planted inside me, threatening to kill everyone around me. How I’m a danger to everyone around me... including Shaye.
I shake my head, pushing back my fears, to the time where I lived on the beach. The way the waves would lull me to sleep and seagulls would wake me in the morning. And how I used to picture Shaye coming to visit me and falling in love with the place as well as rekindling our love. I kept telling myself all I needed was one last job that was to set us up. I had it all planned out in my head. I’d teach surfing and scuba diving classes while Shaye taught the younger kids and all that safety stuff she was adamant about when we were teens.
The problem was that I was kidding myself. Someone like me could never be with Shaye. Not then, and not even sure if it’s possible now. Not with what I’ve become and the danger I pose to her. Fuck!
The apple in my stomach turns sour. I chunk the rest of it across the cafeteria where it hits the side of the trash can with a thwack before falling inside.
I run a hand over my face, trying to quell the beast raising its head inside me.
“What are you doing in here?” a guard bellows from the doorway. “This is off-limits until mealtimes.”
I kick up off the bench and stand. “I was just leaving.”
“Hey, you’re Nelos, right?”
His face pales like he can sense he’s facing down a predator. “Get up to the rec room with the rest of the fuckers or next time I-I’ll beat you if I find you in here.”
I squeeze my hands into fists. If it wasn’t for these damn cuffs and collar, I’d give him a taste of what lives in my veins and he’d pee his pants every time he saw me rather than threaten.
Knowing I can’t kill a guard without more swarming in here, I give him a lazy, crooked grin. “Was heading up that way.”
He scrambles back a few feet as I pass him, and I chuckle under my breath. At the stairwell, I take the steps three at a time, hoping that I’ll get lucky and Shaye will be there. Just seeing her sweet face is like a balm to my soul. But I can’t let her get too close. It’s too dangerous.
In the rec room a handful of lowlifes smoke and laugh, but not Shaye.
I flop down on the couch and a couple of dudes smooching stop and get up, leaving the whole thing for me. Don’t really care either way and I hike a leg up over my knee. I wish I was anywhere but this hellhole. Shit. I’d even take being back at home with my stupid foster parents over this. At least there I had my own room. That is a lifetime away now. A time I will never get back.
A white piece of paper floats down onto the cushion beside me. I glance around, but there’s no one near enough for me to suspect where it came from. On the outside is my name scribbled in blue ink. I glance up and behind me but find no one.
Carefully, I take another look around, but no one is watching me. I snatch up the paper and read:
Tonight at midnight you will have your power unblocked for half an hour. Find the criminal Jarax in the basement and kill him however you like.
Do this and we’ll knock off a decade from your sentence.