“Okay,” I replied easily, laying some sugar on my tone. She didn’t buy it. This bitch could see people as clearly as I could and the Wolf inside me was raising her head at the challenge. Fuck, I loved finding a worthy opponent.
“Cain?” Pike called, raising her voice just enough to be heard from outside the room, though with Cain’s Vampire senses I was going to guess he’d been listening in on that little chat anyway.
“Ma’am?” he asked politely as he pushed the door open behind me.
“I think Twelve would benefit from a firm hand, so I’m assigning you as her corrections officer. Hastings can be her second, he could learn a thing or two from how you deal with an inmate like this.” She didn’t bother to explain what she meant by an inmate like me but I was going to guess she had me pegged. Game on. “I want you to give her a six week assessment before she begins the correcting process. Observe her temperament, her strengths, her weaknesses, how she responds to the other inmates and how she adapts to the prison lifestyle. Make notes on anything she needs to improve upon.” She spoke like I wasn’t there and I fought the growl which rose in my throat. I didn’t like the sound of being corrected. Papà had tried and failed to whip me into shape a long time ago and if his punishments hadn’t altered my personality in the desired way then I doubted anything they attempted on me here would make a dent either. I imagined Pike’s ‘correcting’ came from a need to hit targets and show progression amongst the inmates for the sake of the parole board but if she was looking for a pet project to make an example of, she’d come looking in the wrong place with me.
“Yes, ma’am,” Cain replied.
“Does this mean we’ll be spending more time together, Officer?” I asked Cain sweetly, looking up at him from my seat.
The look which flashed in his eyes in response was filled with hate and a little excitement too if I was reading him right. He liked me beneath him like this. And he was planning on breaking me so that I stayed down here.
We’ll see, Vampiro.
“I’ll leave you to decide on her work assignment, and I expect a report on how she’s settling in by the end of the week,” Pike said, her gaze shifting away to her computer before he’d even had a chance to reply.
“Yes, ma’am,” Cain bit out before reaching for my arm and dragging me from my seat.
We marched from the room and the door clicked shut behind me as Cain led me over the plush carpet at a fast pace.
“Did you understand what just happened there, Twelve?” he asked me in a low tone as the other guards fell into step behind us.
“All of your dreams came true?” I taunted.
“Your life just became mine. I own you now. From your perky tits to the soles of your feet, every inch of your flesh and drop of your blood has my name stamped over it. I decide where you work and who you spend time with. I get to be in charge of your privileges and your punishments. You belong to me now, and I don’t take good care of my pets.”
I snorted a laugh as we reached the elevator doors and he shoved me inside, pushing me up against the mirrored wall at the back of it with his hands locked around my hips.
“Don’t snigger at me, don’t smirk or smile or flirt. Your charm won’t work on me and it will only buy you punishments. So if you want to get on my good side, you’ll learn to bow your head and keep your lips shut around me.”
I looked right into his eyes and shifted in his grip so that my hips brushed against his.
“I promise,” I swore, biting down on my bottom lip.
He snarled at me as the elevator started to descend again, lowering his head so that his eyes bored into mine and his breath washed over my mouth. My heart pounded as this predator locked me in his gaze and I knew he wanted me to blink, to bow, to back down, but I just looked right back at him, daring him to do his worst. Cain could try to break me if he wanted to, but I didn’t like his chances of success.
What can you do with a space that’s six by six feet wide? Well it depended how imaginative you were. So for me, this isolation business was a walk in the endless fields of Naruvia. I was a wild animal prowling through the undergrowth one second, then a rug on the floor that was still still still. Personal record at being still? Thirteen. Fucking. Hours. A guard had to come to check if I was dead.
A rap of knuckles came at the door. Skin against metal. The closest thing to contact with another Fae I’d had for three months. And for an Incubus like me, that was one helluva fucking ache in the balls.
I moved from the corner and rolled my shoulders back, sweeping a hand through my overly long black hair which had grown out during my time here. It wasn’t my usual style to sport a scruffy ass beard either, but I wasn’t allowed out to the Magic Compound to use my power to shave so I guessed I had to work the hobo look for now. Going without my magic was almost as bad as going without my Order. No wait, going without my Order was worse. No, magic. Definitely magic. Fuck, I needed to get laid while casting a fireball above me, spinning it around the room with the power of air. I was a double Elemental and I was used to feeling like the most powerful son of a bitch to ever walk under the stars. In this box, I was just a tiger in a cage. My claws clipped, my teeth blunted. But beasts with hearts of steel always broke free in the end, and those that had held them captive often fell to their mercy in a shower of blood and screams.
I strode cockily up to the hatch just before it snapped open, rolling my shoulders back and cracking out a smile. It was a play I’d performed a hundred times. I was the lead role and I knew the words by heart. I could read people like books, so I knew how to improvise too. Didn’t matter if they were the most guarded fuckers in the world, I’d see through it to the vulnerable little mouse underneath and take it between my giant paws. Even in Darkmore, I could still work my gifts. My Incubus powers were so robust that they bled into every fibre of my being. I may not have been able to wield the full extent of them, but my aura was always alluring. It was just how I was made.
“Officer Luscious,” I said in a purr, leaning my shoulder against the door as I gazed out at her.
“It’s Lucius,” she corrected, rolling her eyes but a playful smile pulled at her mouth. She was five feet and seven inches of deliciousness, especially because this sweet little thing had been caught in my honey trap weeks ago. She had no idea how deep my claws were in her flesh. I could end her whenever I wanted. Because If I decided I needed someone dead, their number was up. No question about it. I’d put the Grim Reaper out of work a long time ago. But I wasn’t going to kill Luscious, not so long as she was valuable.
“Do you have a present for me today?” I asked, my heart hitting a harder beat.
On Wednesdays and Fridays, Officer Luscious brought me a gift that made my time in here just about bearable. And I was tired of being rugs and trees and birds and bees. I wanted more than that today. Needed more than that.
There was a fine line between sanity and insanity and I danced between the two so often I didn’t know which side the real Sin Wilder belonged to. I could be the most perfectly fucking normal asshole in the world if I wanted to be. In my Order form, I could be a guy called Norman who worked in accounts and had a bald patch and a pet cat called Arnold. Or I could be the biggest baddest motherfucker you ever saw, with a scar down one whole side of his face and blades for fingers. It really depended on what you were into physically. Incubuses were shapeshifters of the best fucking kind. We could slip into the skin of anyone’s deepest, darkest desire just by touching them and sensing it in their flesh. And the best part about that was, I held onto every skin I’d ever owned. If I had access my Order form, I could look like any one of them. Male, female, tall, short, dark, fair, I had them all baby, and everything in between.
Of course, I couldn’t shift in here, so I couldn’t flex that power over my appearance. But my personality had split so many ways since my Order had Emerged that I could still hop from one to the next no bother. The real problem was knowing which parts of my personality really belonged to
me and which were other people’s fantasies that had gotten stuck to the inside of my head. Luckily, my real face held enough sway with girls anyway and paired with my sugary words, I could get by just fine in here. Not constant blowjobs and orgies fine, but I survived.
“Here. But only for thirty minutes. Officer Cain’s on my ass today because he caught me giving a cigarette to an inmate this morning,” Luscious said with a sigh.
“Seems kinda pointless,” I said thoughtfully.
“Well you know Cain.” She shrugged. “He likes having someone to correct.”
“I meant smoking is pointless,” I said in a gruffer tone.
“Why?” she frowned, her preened eyebrows pulling together.
“Takes a helluva lot of healing magic to cure away those cancerous cells all the time.”
Luscious tutted and I shrugged innocently. The truth was the truth was the truth. I never told a lie. Not intentionally. The trouble with that was that everything about me was malleable, so it was hard to tell which things were true and which were lies. I had a few solid facts I held onto though. And they all boiled down to one special personality disorder: I was a bad, bad Fae.
Fact number one: I was a killer. The cold blooded, splatter on the walls, smile on my face type. I was a rent-a-kill hitman made perfectly for such a job considering my Order. And the reason I loved it so much? I was hired by the meanest fuckers in the kingdom to kill even meaner fuckers. I was only ever called in to slay the worst of the worst, asshole-of-Solaria types. And that suited me real good. Because I happened to be one of them too. And no one knew how to kill a monster as well as another monster. Plus, the many faces of my Incubus form meant I was near impossible to catch. Near being the operative word. Hence my current situation. But that was not. My. Fucking. Fault. I must have been sold out to the FIB. I just hadn’t figured out which one of my endless enemies had done it yet. I had too many to count. But when I did work it out, oh holy fucking hell, I was going to rip the culprit’s skin off on Christmas morning and make it into a billboard that read This Is What Happens To Fae Who Fuck With Sin Wilder. P.S Happy Holidays.
Number two: I needed sex to function. My Order demanded it to restore my magical reserves, so sex was on my brain. A lot. More than your average guy with a porn addiction. If I wasn’t fucking someone, I was thinking about fucking someone. I was a straight up sex junkie and happy to admit it. But as I was an Incubus, I got a free pass on the therapy for it. There was no cure for this baby. I needed sex like Pegasuses needed to fly through the clouds, like Dragons needed gold, like Vampires needed blood. It was a transaction I had to make on a regular basis. And despite the bad rep that that gave my kind – not that there were a whole lot of us in the world – I didn’t give a fuck. See, being me had its perks. When you were a walking talking sex doll, no one ever really saw you. Which essentially made me invisible. And that was the way I liked it.
Number three: My real name was not in fact Sin Wilder. It was Whitney Northfield. Fucking…Whitney. Either my mother had a twisted sense of humour or she’d decided to pass on her name to me a few hours before she dumped me in a garbage can on the corner of Moonlight Street. Not beside the can. Not even with the lid off. Inside, lid down, baby screaming. Or so the newspapers had informed me years later; a witness had seen her scarpering off into the night like a fart on the breeze. She’d left me wrapped in a blanket with my name stitched into it, so either that crazy fuck had hoped I’d be found – in a dumpster, bitch!! – or she forgot she’d left me there with a tiny clue of my past. Had I Faegled Whitney Northfield in an attempt to hunt her down and throw her ass in a garbage can in penance? Hell yes I had. Had I found a single hit in the whole of fucking Solaria? Not one.
Luscious reached into her pocket and held out my gift. An iPod with a pair of headphones wrapped around it. I wet my lips as I reached for it and her fingers brushed mine as she passed it over. I got a hard on instantly. It was pretty fucking low even for me. But three months in here had me humping the walls and those abrasive bricks didn’t play nice. Not even when I sweet talked them. And for someone who liked it rough, sandpapering my dick was still a hard limit even at this level of desperation.
“Thanks, Luscious.” I turned my back on her and the hatch slammed shut a second later.
I jammed the earbuds in and checked out her recently added songs. A bunch of pop flashed up and I clicked on the one she’d played most. Something called Physical by Dua Lipa burst into my ears and yes – yes yes yes yes. My veins hummed with energy as the fast beat of it slammed into my soul and made life worthwhile again.
I cranked the volume until I nearly busted an eardrum then stuffed the iPod in my pocket and danced. And fucking danced and danced. I played it again and again until I knew the words then belted them out and ground myself against the wall. I needed a warm body and friction and my name tumbling from candy red lips. I wanted to be someone’s darkest desire again. I fed on the way they looked at me when my Order shifted to give them the exact version of perfect they fantasised about. All I had to do was touch them and I could sense exactly what they wanted me to look like. And then they were putty in my hands while I gave them the best night of their life and fuelled my magic with every thrust of my hips. Being denied it was a torment unlike anything I’d ever known.
I growled as I played the song again, letting it take over everything inside me. Invade me, drown out my base needs which were ripping up my spine like sharp claws.
I need a girl with hands as soft as butter and plump lips to wrap around my cock and smear her lipstick all over it. I need one with hourglass curves and dark hair that spills down her back like nightfall.
I didn’t always get the luxury of indulging in my type. Most of the time, I was just a sex toy to be pimped out. And most of the time I didn’t mind that. As soon as a girl heard the word Incubus falling from my tongue, she stopped listening to what I had to say. Maybe that was why I talked crazy most of the time. When I was in my shifted form, no one was listening anyway. I could spout the alphabet or discuss my plans to murder the rulers of Solaria, no one would care either way. Especially once I started fucking them. I’d been called a thousand names while I screwed the life out of a girl. Baby, sweetness, king of the stars, devil boy, sex Alpha, daddy, big boy, my-husband-will-be-home-soon, Captain Big Dick, chocolate prince, honey badger – I could have gone on for days. But there was only one name that belonged to me which mattered. It was a verb, a noun and my fucking destiny. Sin. And I usually had to remind people to call me it while I was deep inside them, because screw all of those bullshit nicknames they gave me. I wanted to be called the name I’d had to wait sixteen years to be old enough to change. I’d claimed that name with every fibre of my being and I deserved to hear it pour from someone’s lips while they used me for their own pleasure.
Every piece of shit I’d ever met had tried to claim me. They thought I was a commodity. Sex and killing was all I was good for. But every single one of them missed the fact that I was the one who was winning. I needed sex to restore my magic. Win. I needed to kill because every asshole I sent to hell could have been my mother who threw me in that garbage can, or my father who took zero responsibility for his sperm. Win. And I needed money to live. Money which they threw at me, so much of it in fact, that I’d had over two million auras in cash buried in my backyard before I came to Darkmore. W. I. N.
No one owned Sin Wilder. Sin Wilder owned the world. And when I found a way out of here, I was going to drive off into the sunset with a duffel bag full of cash and the only person who’d ever mattered to me in my entire life. Me.
After Cain dumped me back in my cell, I sat waiting for the doors to unlock for the day while looking out between my bars at the other new neighbours I’d acquired.
Roary’s heavy breathing kept me company as he slept and I smirked to myself as I remembered the time me and Dante had drawn cocks all over his and Leon’s faces when they’d spent the night at ours. Nemean Lions were infamous for their lazy
ways and sleeping habits and we’d shamelessly taken advantage of what deep sleepers they were.
Aside from Plunger, who I was vehemently not looking at as he performed a naked yoga routine which involved way too much time with his ass in the air and his junk flopping about, there were a few other inmates who had claimed a solo cell, but not many. Most of the cells were occupied by two residents and most of those were still asleep so it was hard to get a read on their occupants. There were several sheets hanging as makeshift doors like Roary had suggested and I had to admit that that looked like a good idea. Especially as my gaze fell back on Plunger as he pulled his toothbrush from his wash bag and dipped it into his toilet before starting to brush.
“For the love of the moon,” I snarled, baring my teeth in disgust as he grinned at me.
“I like to brush four times a day, but we can only go to the shower blocks twice,” he explained, the toothbrush wagging in his mouth as he spoke. `
Probably because you’ve got the taste of shit in your mouth from doing that!
My stomach turned but I forced myself not to utter another word, heeding Roary’s warning not to rile him up. But that was pretty damn hard when it came to that kind of behaviour.
The sound of the bell ringing to signal the guards’ arrival saved me from the horror of his shit show and I sighed in pleasure as I got to my feet.
I rolled my shoulders back and started hopping up and down on the spot to loosen up my limbs just in case anyone decided to test me before breakfast. I couldn’t afford to let my guard drop for a second around here.
Darkmore Penitentiary (Supernatural Prison for Dark Fae Book 1) Page 8