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Her Demon Harem: Reverse Harem Duology 1 (The Succubus Chronicles)

Page 17

by Savannah Skye


  “And what do you suggest we do about the goat’s heart?” A shudder ran through me simply from speaking the words. Then I remembered a conversation I’d had with a guy from work who was into weird, foreign delicacies. “Wait, I might know a guy, actually.”

  Brie gaped. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  With that, we raced to the SUV and took off in search of the ingredients we would need in what had to have been the world’s creepiest treasure hunt. I told Brie all about it as we headed to the store how he’d once told me about where one could buy such delicacies.

  In a twist of fate that had me seriously doubting the patronage of the shop, not that I could really judge given what we were there for, we found most of the ingredients that we needed for the spell there. Rats’ tails, fish eyes and powdered bull testes included.

  We made our purchases as fast as we could, trying our best to ignore the looks we were getting from the crypt keeper who ran the store. Honestly, the man looked like he slept in a coffin and drank the blood of the innocent for coffee.

  “Holy shit that was creepy,” Brie said, collapsing into the passenger seat of the SUV.

  “No kidding,” I agreed. “Let’s never go back there. What’s left on the list?”

  “Never,” Brie said, reaching for our absurd shopping list and wriggling her nose. “Just one thing, but it’s not going to be any less creepy.”

  “The cemetery?” I asked, wincing.

  “Natch.”

  “Awesome,” I breathed. If this were for anyone other than my protectors, I would run so fast in the opposite direction that I’d make it all the way to Mexico before anyone even noticed I was gone.

  The cemetery stop was as morbid as I’d expected it to be, but we managed to find fresh red roses resting on a grave near the entrance, so at least it was quick.

  We brought the ingredients back to Brie’s and stared dubiously at our shopping before we got started.

  “Better get to it then,” I said finally. “You sure about this?”

  “Double, double toil and trouble,” Brie responded, her voice steady and confident.

  I gave her a clipped nod. “Let’s go then.”

  Mixing the potion, I mumbled the words written atop the spell on our printout. I had no idea what they meant and we hadn’t been able to find any exact translation, so it seemed beyond stupid to be uttering them under the circumstances, but desperate times. And besides, after what I’d seen the past few days? Surely, this wasn't out of the realm…

  I squeezed my eyes harder and tried to send all of my flagging energy into the potion as I mixed.

  I could not fail. If Brie didn’t become semi-immortal, I couldn’t risk her helping.

  I’d be on my own and I’d already been bested by Luci more than once. I needed a surprise. Something she wasn’t expecting, and Brie was my ace in the hole.

  The mixture glowed a strange deep purple by the time I was done.

  “Last chance, my friend. Are you sure about this?”

  But the words were barely out of my mouth when she cut me off.

  “Seriously. Not a fucking doubt. I’ve been steeped in jealousy for days and can’t wait. Do me,” she demanded.

  I handed her the contents and she plugged her nose before gulping it down.

  For a long moment we waited, the sound of the clock ticking echoing through the room.

  “Did it say how long it would take?”

  I shook my head. “No, but it seems like it should be pretty quick.”

  We waited some more and Brie’s shoulders slumped.

  “Do you really think the celery root was that important?” she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

  Once we’d gotten to her house, we realized that we’d forgotten the most mundane ingredient on the shopping list. Brie had celery sticks in her fridge though, so we’d used those instead.

  Rookie mistake, or was this all a failed pipe dream anyway? Me grasping at sad little straws because my heart was broken?

  “Let’s go to the store, then. It should be okay to mix it in with what we have left. It was foul, but I’d drink a gallon of it if it works,” she said, her chin set in determination.

  We rushed out the door and headed to the nearest Whole Foods, both of us on edge.

  “I’m so sorry, Stevie,” Brie was murmuring as we made our way through the produce section. “Those guys are so awesome and I would do just about anything to help. Even if it doesn’t work, maybe I could come with you? I’ve been taking loads of kickboxing classes and—”

  “No way, Brie. Let’s just see how it goes, okay?” I asked, already feeling sick to my stomach as I reached for the celery root.

  I was just sliding it into a plastic baggie, when a strange noise sounded from behind me. I looked to find Brie staring at some college kid piling melons into a box a few feet away.

  Her face was a mask of need, her eyes glowing almost preternaturally.

  My heart leapt and I called her name, but she was beyond hearing me as she leaped over boxes between them and sealed her mouth over the produce clerk’s, kissing him as passionately as newlyweds did on their honeymoons.

  “Brie!” I exclaimed, my pulse wild now as elation shot through me.

  I dragged her off the poor guy, who looked none the worse for wear and was smiling dazedly.

  When Brie turned back to me, her eyes were alight with an unholy fire and she grinned devilishly. “Celery sticks for the win!”

  The hope I’d felt earlier unfurled from my stomach and grew so big and powerful that it threatened to choke me.

  We were in for a hell of a fight. Luci had a thousand years and an army on us, but we were one step closer to bringing the guys home.

  “Let’s take this bitch down.”

  Get ready for the next in series, Her Demon Harem, Book Two, coming in October and available for pre-order now!

  Want more Savannah Skye? Check out Axe to Grind…out now and free with KU!

  Brenna

  I’ve been the property of the Ruffino crime family for so long, I can’t remember the last time I made a decision for myself. The most gorgeous virgin they’d ever bagged, they said. The one that would earn them millions at auction, they said. Now today, on my nineteenth birthday, the highest bidder will get me…and my virginity. I’d rather be dead than spend a lifetime as a man’s plaything, so tonight? It’s kill or be killed.

  Axe

  The second I laid eyes on her, it was game over. They wanted two million dollars for her, and that was a bargain. I’d have paid ten times that if I had it. Because the thought of another man’s hands on her? Made me want to tear the place apart, brick by brick. But the Capestrana family business relies on me doing my part and making nice with the Ruffinos, who own this angel. Do I want to risk all that…my family, my business, my life, to save her?

  F*%k yeah, I do.

  Brenna

  The smell hit me like a slap.

  Cologne.

  So much goddamned cologne, it threatened to choke me, coating the back of my throat like thick, perfumed paint.

  I closed my eyes and focused on that. Because even that was better than the hungry eyes staring at me, stealing pieces of my soul, bit by bit.

  “Our second lovely bachelorette is Rita,” the woman at the podium cooed, her voice smooth and rich. Her name was Gabrielle and I hated her with every cell of my being.

  She’d never been anything but cordial to me and the other girls. But that didn’t change the fact that she dealt in peddling flesh. Unwilling flesh, some of the time. She sold women into modern day sexual slavery, and she did it with a smile.

  The second I got free…if I ever got free, I was going to stab her straight through the heart.

  That little fantasy got me through the next ten minutes as the dozen or so men in the room haggled over Rita, the girl standing in the spotlight, naked, with the long, black hair.

  Words were spoken. There were bids, and counter bid
s, but I barely noticed. I was lost in my own nightmare. I jerked in surprise a few minutes later when Gabrielle finally pounded her gavel.

  “Sold!” she cried, the glee in her voice evident.

  But me? I felt nothing as Rita, her face a mask of weary indifference, was led away by her new owner.

  She’d been in the business for a while and was what the family called a “giver”. Not so much a slave as an indentured servant, she was one of the few who’d signed up for this.

  She thought she’d do it for two years.

  She thought that, once she made some money she could send back to her family in Serbia, she’d get out of the business altogether and start a new life.

  She thought she’d be able to wash it away, like the sweat and fatigue of a long run.

  She thought wrong.

  But I didn’t care about Rita. After a year of wasting tears on countless girls, I didn’t care about anyone anymore. I couldn’t even work tears up for myself.

  “Next up, we have Madison.”

  Madison’s real name wasn’t Madison any more than Rita’s had been Rita, but whatever. By that point, none of us really gave a shit what they called us. These men were going to violate us in far worse ways than stealing our names.

  “Madison is perfect for the man who likes a woman with experience. She excels at being submissive, taking commands, and is leash-trained. She’s as comfortable sleeping at your feet as she is on the bed.”

  I had the inane urge to laugh then, because what the actual fuck? As if anyone could possibly think that was true.

  But those guys, they lapped it up, and bids flew fast and furious. A tiny kernel of hope rose inside me that maybe they’d run out of money before they got to me, but I squashed it ruthlessly.

  As irredeemable as the disgustingly rich, twisted bastards in this room were, it was hope that was my true enemy.

  This was happening and there wasn’t shit I could do to stop it. The sooner I got that through my thick skull, the better.

  I’d tried to fight at first. I’d even won a couple times, but I’d reached the end of the line. Tonight, on my birthday, no less, I was the main event. The prize at the bottom of the cereal box. The nineteen year old these men had come to salivate over. And if I spit at them like the last time, or kicked one of them in the balls, like the time before, or stabbed one of them with a pen I’d hidden in my ponytail, like the time before that?

  The Ruffinos’ henchman Bruno had already warned me ahead of time, he’d slit my throat on the spot.

  Gabrielle motioned me forward and I stepped up dutifully, head down, heart pounding. They could ogle my body, but that didn’t mean I had to watch it.

  Then again, maybe looking was better. I’d meet each and every gaze and hold it, just for a few seconds. That way, they’d have to live with it. They’d have to gaze into the windows of my soul for an instant before I ended it all, here and now. On my terms.

  Because fuck them.

  Axe

  I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was like Joan of fucking Arc standing up there, shoulders straight, staring into the gallery, screw you written all over her stunning face.

  My whole body was tense, ready for something, although I hadn’t figured out what yet.

  “Don’t mess this up, son,” my father had growled at me as I was leaving. “Emilio is expecting Colt, so play nice. You represent the Capestranas at this event.”

  Event.

  A tainted word.

  But for gangsters – money was just money, right? Money was king, was God. No matter how much blood ran across the ground for it. No matter who paid the price, who might be broken…

  All for our sins, A-fuckin-men.

  Gabrielle, that slick bitch, was ushering the last woman sold over to the winner. The purchased woman, Madison, I was pretty sure she’d said, was beautiful. But her beauty had a faded quality to it, like a flower withered from the sun. Madison’s new “owner” looked inhuman under the floodlights – nothing but a leering gaze, coveting his new prize.

  My stomach twisted as I watched. It was like I’d stumbled into some hellish, twisted fantasy of the Devil himself. All around me sat his gluttonous demons in the shadows, shifting in their seats, breathing heavily, and letting their eyes run unchecked across the naked forms paraded in front of them.

  Yeah, I’d seen ugly shit go down in my life. Most of it didn’t bother me anymore. Sometimes I wonder if it ever had.

  But nothing had ever made me feel as sick as this shit did.

  My mind flashed back to earlier today, which felt like days ago now. At the door, my father had kissed me on the side of the head and whispered in my ear, “Don’t buy shit, Axe. You hear me? It’s a show of good faith and camaraderie. Keep your head down if you don’t like what you see. You’re there to make connections and represent the family. We need the Ruffinos to be our allies. Don’t forget.”

  That whisper kept crossing my mind.

  A show. Good faith. Allies.

  Don’t forget.

  I wonder what Colt would have done in my place, if things had gone to plan. No Capestrana had ever stepped foot in this crap before – even though we’d been invited many times. The rumors swirling around this event had been too ugly for a man like my father, raised by the noble and powerful Mama Angelina.

  But even the good Catholic boy had been tempted by the reams of green flying through Ruffino fingers.

  So, Colt, the eldest Capestrana son, was supposed to be here, sitting in this seat. The dutiful son, the heir.

  My brother would have been rubbing elbows and making the kind of small talk Emilio Ruffino got off on. Like I’d been sent to do. But of course, Colt was off fixing some shit that went sideways with our cousin, Dante, who couldn’t steer clear of trouble even if he had a compass, a map and a GPS.

  I hadn’t wanted to come, but I’d done it, and now Emilio Ruffino hadn’t even had the courtesy to show up tonight. I’d looked for him for a while – but down in the gallery of bastards, it was too dark to even see who was sitting next to you.

  I sat straighter and tried to talk myself out of the darkness threatening to pull me under. Why should I give a shit what happened to Joan of Arc? These girls were hookers, right? They wanted money just as much as the gangsters bidding on them wanted ass. Free trade. Capitalism. Supply and demand.

  Because America.

  But I couldn’t look away from her. No matter how much I didn’t want to, I gave a shit. Something felt off.

  Up on stage, Gabrielle had taken a quick break to apply a fresh coat of lipstick. It stood out like a dark circle of blood on her pale face. Then she tapped the mic to get the audience’s attention back.

  Silence fell instantly.

  “And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for…” She paused, breathless, and her eyes gleamed out at us.

  In spite of myself, I sat up straighter and my gaze went to Joan of Arc, who was being thrust forward. She almost tripped on the flimsy sheet covering her body, and again I wondered, with a sinking feeling, why she was the only one “dressed”. The girl regained her poise as she took center stage, throwing her shoulders back and holding her head up high.

  “Mary,” Gabrielle cooed. “Our barely legal virgin.”

  Virgin.

  My entire body went cold. Hands shaking with rage, I had to curl them into fists to stop it. Hot acid bubbled up in my stomach, my jaw clenched shut so tightly, I thought I heard a goddamn tooth crack.

  Around me, whispers and murmurs were rising in excitement. The slob next to me was mouth-breathing like he’d just run a mile and I wondered with disgust if he was getting himself off under the table.

  Mary gazed out at the gallery, awash in radiant fury. She probably couldn’t even see us – that hidden swath of demons lusting over her in the darkness. Yet she chose to stare down into the gallery, a challenge lighting her green eyes.

  The golden spotlight engulfed her like a halo. She looked otherworldly, pure as a goddamn a
ngel. But the fire in her gaze was a stark reminder.

  Angels were heaven’s warriors. And this one?

  Wanted to see us all burn.

  Her thick hair was tied up in a ponytail, waving and curling in a heavy mass down her back, like a cascade of black silk. Green-blue eyes, as alluring and unfathomable as the sea, flashed from her face. A face as delicate and beautiful as it was striking. Like a tigress. Untamable.

  Looking into her face, it felt as though someone was crushing my heart – splintering the dark walls around it. I couldn’t understand why – surely I had seen worse than this as a Capestrana. Baseball bats to kneecaps. Straight up hits on rival families.

  But this girl seemed so young to have such pain and hate in her eyes. It contrasted sharply with the soft curves of her cheek, her elegant line of neck, her un-kissed lips...

  I knew it as sure as I knew my own name that Mary wasn’t like the others. If she’d signed up for this, she’d been blackmailed or coerced into it. There’d been rumors of this kind of shit on the street, but to see it in action still sent a jolt of shock through me.

  I tried to ignore the fury rising in me and focus only on that face. There was still a hint of hope in there somewhere – not all of her innocence had been stripped away. That alone kept me from flipping the table over to get to her. I needed to think this through, or I could make her situation worse.

  Gabrielle was talking again, warming to her sales pitch now.

  “Mary has never been touched by a man, she’s been preserved. All for this momentous night. All for one of you.”

  Mary flicked her eyes sideways at Gabrielle and I saw her full lips twitch into a fleeting snarl. An unfamiliar feeling tore at me, something I’d never felt before.

  “While Mary is a virgin, gentlemen, she’s by no means meek. If you like spunk and perhaps a bit of a fight before the big payoff… Mary is your girl. Sweet, sweet nineteen…” Gabrielle’s tongue darted out and licked her garish lips. She left the podium, walking over to Mary, and grasped the flimsy sheet in both hands. “So, let’s all wish our Mary a very, happy birthday, now!”

 

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