Chapter Four
Gabriel shoved open the door to his suite as a bell rang, beckoning the attendees to take their seats. The room was dark with black walls and mahogany flooring. Gannon sat in one of the eight luxurious leather recliners situated in front of a wall of tinted glass, which provided a private viewing of the auction floor. A stage flooded by bright lights rested in what Gabriel assumed was a circle of suites.
Gannon turned in his seat. “The show is about to start. Is it worth watching?”
Gabriel nodded.“She’s here.”
The tension that tightened Gannon’s shoulders eased. “Good.” He held up a thin booklet. “I didn’t see her listed in the brochure and was beginning to sweat.” He thumbed through the pages as Gabriel claimed a seat beside him. “This is some sick crap. They’ve set it up like a menu. Photos paired with summaries of the mortal’s backgrounds and skill sets.” He growled. “There are taste descriptions like you’d find when shopping for wine or scotch. And the Lead Slave Handler, Ross Klein, makes recommendation for what type of slave the mortal would best serve as: labor, entertainment, bleeding—it goes on and on. They also include a preview of future auctions.” Gannon cursed. “There’s even a ‘buy now’ option with a phone number. Major credit cards are accepted.” Sensing his king’s fraying control, Gannon wisely snapped his mouth shut and tossed the program into the trash bin beside his chair.
After a too tense moment, he gave Gabriel a brotherly punch in the shoulder and smiled. “Hey, we’ve found her.” Promptly changing the subject, Gannon said, “I counted four exit doors on the main floor and there are only windows on the second and third. If necessary, I suggest we jump, tuck, and roll. Guards number thirty plus, hard to determine the exact total. I saw no weapons, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t pack’n.”
“Noted.”
The lights shining on the stage dimmed and a cheery chime played. X-Tina entered the room and crossed to the stage. A deceivingly sweet smile curved her lips as she declared the auction open.
Gabriel leaned back in his chair, forcing himself to relax.
“Here we go,” Gannon whispered.
After a short tutorial, explaining how bidders can use the electronic tablet provided to place their bids, X-Tina summoned the guards to bring the first slave to the block. Excitement sparkled in the hostess’s eyes when Number One appeared. The mortal man’s legs shook as he stood on the stage with his head bowed. After a brief description of the man’s skills, his robe was removed, revealing his nakedness and the bidding began.
Memories Gabriel had buried long ago began to rise. He’d been dragged to the auction block. Chains had chewed at his wrists, snaked up his arms, and wrapped around his neck. Shackles gnawed at his ankles. Blood and filth clung to his cold flesh. Vampires stood in groups, their soulless black eyes boring into him. The demons had been intrigued by his warrior’s spirit and the females had gasped in delight when he’d been stripped bare. His strength, vitality, and cursed ‘beauty’ had enchanted the evil creatures and provoked a vicious bidding war.
Gabriel watched in a daze as one by one the humans were paraded out on to the stage. Every time the hostess gleefully shouted, “Sold,” a sharp chill sliced through him like an executioner’s blade. He didn’t know how much more he could withstand. His control was unraveling by the millisecond, his rage boiling. Gabriel’s muscles strained and his fingers dug into the arms of the chair. Every cell in his body demanded action and his vampire clamored for the blood of his enemies. He forced himself to be still.
Gannon mumbled curse after curse. “God, this is disgusting.”
Gabriel remained silent while Number Fourteen was hauled off the stage. His mortal was next. Anticipation spiked his pulse when Gannon handed him the tablet. The screen instantly illuminated with a photo and description of Jordan.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a special prize for your bidding pleasure this evening,” X-Tina announced.
On que, the side door opened. Gabriel’s heart slammed to a stop.
Jordan dangled between two large guards. Each had a hand wrapped around her upper arm.
“We’ve saved the best for last,” the hostess said as they joined her on the block. She motioned to the man on Jordan’s right. He released his hold and came to stand beside X-Tina, who smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Mr. Klein is our Lead Slave Handler. He is the one who discovered this little diamond. Thank you, Mr. Klein.”
“My pleasure, I assure you,” he replied, a twisted smile distorting his lips.
Feral desires tore through Gabriel’s chest—a dangerous, combustible combination of rage, hate, and possessiveness. He wanted to crash through the glass, tear out the hostess’s throat. Behead the guard. Rip Klein’s dead heart from his chest and shove it down his throat. Then he’d slaughter the audience with no regard to the shifter’s neutral territory.
Gabriel hadn’t noticed he’d shot to his feet or that he’d charged the window, but someone was holding him back. Snarling, he spun and struck out. His fist a fraction of a centimeter from connecting with Gannon’s face, he pulled his punch back.
“Easy, man,” Gannon growled, his eyes going black. His vampire rising to meet the threat. “We can’t blow our cover.”
Heavy breaths hissed past Gabriel’s fangs as he reined in his demon. Fuck. Where was his famed control? He never lost his shit, but when it came to the tiny human… So close now. Focus. Rescue the mortal and end this crazy emotional crap.
Releasing him, Gannon asked, “You good?”
Gabriel nodded and reclaimed his seat. “Solid.”
Gannon picked the tablet off the floor and handed it back to Gabriel before sitting down and turning his wary gaze back to the auction floor.
Closing his eyes, Gabriel counted ten measured breaths. Keep it together. It would all be over soon and his life would return to normal.
His mind clear, his emotions calm, he opened his eyes.
Jordan swayed, but the remaining guard held her upright. Her brow pinched as the guard tilted her head toward the light, displaying the delicate, sensual features of her face. Perfectly arched eyebrows, a thin nose with a button tip, sharp cheekbones, and her chapped lips were so alluring and plump. Directly under the light, her dark hair shimmered with rays of red, gold and hues of deep purple. Its long length curled wantonly around her slender frame, a striking contrast to the white robe she wore. She’d soon be stripped bare like the other. He could almost hear the deranged vampires in the audience lick their lips at the prospect.
“Number Fifteen is an exceptional beauty. Her hair, thick and soft as silk, is naturally colored.” X-Tina twirled a lock between her fingers. “Her skin is smooth and unmarred, with the exception of two tattoos.” The guard grabbed Jordan’s hands and turned them out for the spectators to view. “True” and “Honest” were scribed in flowing, black, cursive across the inside of her wrists.
The hostess cupped Jordan’s chin and gave her head a little shake. Jordan’s eyes fluttered open. She tried to pull away, but was too weak.
“As you can see, her eyes are unique and flash with defiance.” X-Tina giggled. “For those of you interested in a spirited slave, look no further. She is perfect.”
Gabriel growled knowing she meant, “For those of you looking for a slave to beat, torture, and rape into submission, she’s the one.”
“Number Fifteen is more than just a pretty face. She is also a talented singer.”
The tablet in his hands lit up once more and the video X-Tina had promised began to play. Jordan sat on a stool, center stage of the bar where she frequently preformed in Denver. The music started and her glorious, haunting voice rang out. The song started slow, the tempo picking up until she was on her feet swaying to the beat. Enchanting. Gabriel’s heart clenched.
When the song ended, the screen returned to Jordan’s profile.
“Impressive,” X-Tina said clapping.
Klein stepped behind Jordan and untied the waist band of the robe. With a light tug the garment fell.
Gabriel’s eyes flashed demonic black. Gannon’s arm shot out across his king’s chest. They both knew Gabriel could easily shake free, but he remained in his seat. Grinding his teeth, his jaw locked, Gabriel bit back an outraged roar.
He gave his Second a tight nod. As much as he wanted to commit murder and ignite chaos, he would stay in his seat.
Gannon leaned back.
Gabriel should be grateful Jordan wasn’t naked, but the white lingerie she wore left little to the imagination. Lace covered her luscious breasts. The baby doll design revealed the creamy flesh of her trim stomach, accentuated her round hips, and the lace panties…The handler’s goal was to tantalize the audience, tease the perverse blood-suckers. The winner would have the privilege of stripping her, the prize of Jordan’s body for his or her eyes only.
Klein moved back to his post beside X-Tina, but his gaze remained on Jordan. Gabriel read the lust in the vampire’s eyes and the Slave Handler just moved up to number one on his hit list.
“Lovely,” the hostess sighed. “Number Fifteen is an owner’s dream and,” her lips turned up in a greedy smile, “she is untouched.” She paused for emphasis, allowing the meaning of her words to sink in. “Yes. She is a virginal beauty. To validate our claim, a physical conducted by a medical professional will be provided, if the winner so choses.”
Gannon muttered a litany of curses then finally groaned, “We might as well gift wrap crates of weapons for Boras.”
Gabriel didn’t respond. Focused on Jordan, his mind sharp, analytical, he waited.
X-Tina’s smile brightened. “The bidding will open at $50,000.”
***
The bright lights of Hell burned. Too tired to keep her head raised, her face dipped forward, her hair slipped over her like a veil. For a blissful moment she escaped the harsh blaze that illuminated the auction block. But, as always, her relief was short lived. A cold, heavy hand gripped her chin and forced her face back up.
Jordan tried to protest, her sluggish brain formed a scathing curse, but she was unable to speak. The drugs had stolen her voice and taken control of her body. Her limbs were heavy as stone and her chest felt like an iron cage around her lungs. God, it hurt to breathe. If it weren’t for the guard’s hold, she’d crash to the ground, unable to move her arms to break her fall. Yeah, she’d face plant, like she usually did when tossed back into her glass cell.
The vampire shifted, turning her around, making sure everyone was able to view the merchandise, her nearly nude body. She’d felt mortified the first few times she’d been put on display, now it was routine.
Jordan’s legs trembled and her knees gave out. The guard uttered an oath as he caught her. The hostess gave a light laugh and made some sweet comment regarding humans and their frailty. Naturally X-Tina didn’t mention the drugs pumping like poison through her veins. Jordan didn’t know what they kept shooting her with. Whatever it was, the drug was strong and, sadly, lacked a pleasurable high. It left her mind fractured and her body numb. Catatonic. Exhausted.
She’d lost track of how long she’d been in Hell. Weeks. Months. Years. It didn’t matter. She could feel the end drawing closer every second. The vampires kept her on the edge of life and death and Jordan didn’t know how much longer she could endure. Hunger gnawed at her gut. Her lips were cracked, her mouth dry, and her throat burned from dehydration. Cruel shivers continuously plagued her. She clenched her jaw, trying to keep her teeth from chattering even now. It did little good. Damn, her body ached, every muscle sore from the endless cold.
If deprivation and exposure didn’t kill her, the drugs eventually would. Jordan found some peace in knowing she may fall asleep any minute and never wake up. She could sense Death was coming to call. Should she greet the specter with open arms or continue to fight?
Fight for what? Freedom? She would’ve laughed if she could. Hope was such a dangerous emotion it should be a sin. If she were smart, she’d give Death a kiss when he came to collect, but she would never surrender. She was a warrior. And there was also Erhard. The blond male. Her captor’s enemy. The Outcast blood bastard turned Clan Chieftain and his relentless attacks on the slave traders. He’d been at the boathouse the night they moved her, she’d seen him…hadn’t she?
Jordan tried to focus, but her head swam as she drifted in and out of consciousness. She attempted to shake herself awake, but her body remained unresponsive, leaving her defenseless against the shadowed memories of her captivity. The horrors she’d witnessed turned to nightmares, attacking every time she fell into the darkness.
She relived helplessly watching the guards brutally beat, rape, and kill her cellmates, while she remained relatively uninjured, constantly reminded that she was their “golden bitch.” She was the prized slave, the one who would bring Boras unimaginable riches. With enough money he could buy an army to dominate his enemy.
Still, the guards easily forgot to feed and water their “pet” properly and, when she wasn’t drugged, Jordan had fought them with all the strength that remained in her frail body. Never showing her captors fear. She refused to grant the fuckers the pleasure.
Her mother and aunt had been pillars of strength, teaching her to never bow. After their deaths, she’d been forced into the system and lived on the streets. If you were weak, you were prey. “Vampires and shape-shifters aren’t the only demons that exist, baby girl,” her aunt would say. “Humans can be just as dangerous. Remember, demons are in us all.”
Her aunt had been a hunter—dispatching rogue vampires and shape-shifters. Living as a drifter, she traveled from city to city, state to state, killing those that threatened humans. She’d made it her mission to teach Jordan how to defend herself; skills Jordan had used countless times. And after killing two of her vampire guards, they’d begun drugging her, keeping her on the brink of death. Too dazed to cause trouble, but alive enough to garner the interest of buyers. Ending the demon’s lives had given her a tiny taste of revenge and she wanted more. But her actions had also drawn the attention of the head Slave Handler, Ross Klein.
“I admire your grit,” he had whispered after dosing her for the first time. “No slave has ever killed one let alone two of my men. You’ll pay for your crime. You have my word. When the war is over, you’ll be mine and I’ll teach you your place, human.” He licked her ear. “I’ll break you.”
Jordan struggled to wake up, but couldn’t stop the memories from crashing over her. The Slave Handler had become fixated on her. He couldn’t torture her physically, so he made her watch as he tormented others. When it came time to brand the new slaves, he’d make sure Jordan had a front row seat. Their cries of agony echoed through her mind. The stench of burning flesh made her heave. But it was witnessing what he did to the women deemed unworthy of the auction block that sent her into a blind rage.
He’d throw the female into the glass cell beside hers. Pinning Jordan with his black demon gaze, Klein would rape them. The more the women struggled, screamed, and cried the harsher and crueler he became, deriving pleasure from their suffering. He’d sink his fangs into their necks as he came, drinking them until they teetered on the edge of death. Then, he’d use a blade to slit their throats. Dropping their bodies, he left them to bleed out as he straightened his clothes. Fangs dripping, he’d press his palms against the glass divide and say, “They’re all poor substitutes for you.”
Jordan viciously slammed back to consciousness, her mind beating back the horrific nightmare. Her body violently jerked, the need to kill her enemy thundered through her. She tried to pull away from the guard, but her limbs refused to respond. Her heart began to pound, her lungs burned as they desperately worked to draw in more oxygen. The brightness stung her eyes as she blinked, desperate to bring the auction room into focus. Blacked out mirrors stared at her, concealing the identities of the bidders.
The guard who held her tightened his grip. An unintelligible mumble escaped her lips.
She felt the vampire’s eyes on her. Every one of them. God, it was sickening.
“Hold her steady.”
Her body stiffened at the sound of Klein’s voice. Blinking, she brought him into focus. He moved to her side. His fingers snaked out and dug into her upper arm.
“Behave,” Klein hissed. His breath whispered over her ear.
Bile rose in her throat. She would have puked if it weren’t for the drugs.
“500,000 dollars,” the hostess called out.
Focusing on her breathing, Jordan tried to clear her head. She could feel the drug’s effects beginning to fade. They wouldn’t dose her in front of the clients.
Jordan opened her mouth to scream, but only silence feel from her lips. The exertion caused the world to begin to sway. Her heavy lids drifted shut, the lights becoming unbearably bright again.
The hostess’s voice grew louder and louder, announcing the bids, the price driving higher and higher. A disturbing sense of pride fluttered in Jordan’s chest when the amount tipped over a million.
“Purchased!”
The shrill, excited sing-song lilt of X-Tina’s voice made Jordan’s skin crawl. Did she really have to sound so damn cheerful?
“To ensure confidentiality, the final paperwork and transactions will be conducted individually. We will go in order of auction number, one through fifteen. An attendant will come to your suite and escort you to the purchasing room.”
Jordan felt the robe slip over her shoulders. She was shuffled between the guard and Ross as they dressed her. Then, Klein’s bruising hands circled her upper arm once more and she was carried from the platform.
“Thank you for coming. I hope everyone enjoyed themselves. Please, if you didn’t win or if the selection wasn’t to your liking, join us next month. You can find upcoming auction information in the program provided.”
The hostess’s voice slowly faded into the background as Jordan was hauled down a flight of stairs, back to the Tasting Den. Her head bounced as the world flash by in a blur of color and movement.
“Damn, Klein, how much did you give her?” the guard on her left asked. “She’s a lump.” He grunted in response and the other vampire chuckled. “The bidders didn’t seem to mind. Hell, she brought in the largest purse in auction history.”
Klein growled low. Was he jealous? The thought made her stomach knot. Ross wanted to make her his own. Jordan would die before she ever submitted to that demon.
The sound of the glass cell door gliding open hissed in her ears.
“Leave us,” Klein demanded.
The guard released her arm. Panic spiked her blood. No! She was alone with him and paralyzed.
Klein’s hand slipped over her throat while the other roughly groped her breasts. “The bidders liked what they saw.” He pressed his hips against hers and groaned. “But no matter how much they pay, they’ll never have you.”
Jordan struggled against the drug, willing her body to life in vain. She couldn’t even form a fist. God, she wanted to hit the bastard. She wanted to drive a blade through his heart. And she would. Before Death claimed her, she’d send the Slave Handler to Hell.
Klein licked her cheek. Jordan thought she’d be sick, but the sedative wouldn’t allow her to heave. He whispered, “You’re mine.”
Rage stole her breath. Swallowing hard, she forced her lips to move. Her voice scratched her throat, “N-Never.”
Klein chuckled and released his hold. Jordan’s knees buckled and she crashed to the floor. She felt no pain and, for a second, was thankful for the drugs.
“Ross,” the hostess called as she entered the hall leading to the cells. “Every purchased slave must be bathed and readied. Drug them if necessary. I don’t want any problems.”
“Sure.”
The clicking of X-Tina’s stilettoes grew louder as she approached. Ross nudged Jordan with the tip of his boot, rolling her over to her back. “Can you believe the asshole who bid on her?”
Jordan squinted up at the vampire pair.
“1.3 million,” X-Tina whistled, “It’s a record. The boss will be pleased. Boras needs some good news after the boathouse raid.” She sighed, “That was a close call. We almost lost our top shelf inventory.”
Jordan concentrated, straining to hear their whispers. Squinting, she read their lips.
The boathouse? The attack? Were they talking about Erhard? The tall, blond, sex god she’d met the night of her abduction. She’d never forget him, always fantasized about him. He’d worn power like a second skin. After they started drugging her, she’d begun to believe he was a character designed by her brain to help process the terrible things that had happened that night. But as she sank deeper into the demon’s realm of darkness, she learned Erhard was more than a record executive looking to sign new talent. He was a vampire. And they had a common enemy.
“Erhard has united the East Coast under his rule,” X-Tina grumbled. “All that remains for Boras is the North West.”
Yes! They were discussing Erhard and she’d been right. He was responsible for the attack on the boathouse. Jordan wanted to shout in triumph, instead a pained moan escaped her lips.
The hostess’s gaze dropped to her and she smiled, revealing her fangs. “But if we keep selling her, Boras will be able to buy allies.”
“Have you heard the Shaw are withdrawing? They’re returning and gathering for the Sequester. Erhard won’t have the witch’s help any longer.” Klein’s lips contorted with a snarl. “I’ve heard plans that by month’s end we’ll strike Erhard. The bastard won’t see it coming.”
X-Tina’s eyes leapt with glee. “Good. I hope the cur burns.” Her smile widened. “And we’ll win the war with this bitch.” Her gaze snapped to Ross. “If you can manage to keep her alive. Make sure she is fed and watered. She’s too thin. We can’t afford for her to lose her curves.” Her sharp gaze slipped over Jordan’s body, calculating. “And ease up on the poison. She’s a level above looking like a cracked out whore. My reputation is built on providing the best. Our high end clientele will not be disappointed.”
“While we kept her at the waystation, she had a forty-eight hour reprieve. That could be why she looks…so haggard. Withdrawal,” Klein mused.
“Be that as it may, I want her dosage lowered.”
“She’ll have to be kept in restraints.”
The hostess shrugged. “As long as they don’t cause too much bruising, that’ll be fine.”
Jordan could sense Klein’s irritation. He knew the best way to keep Jordan under control was to keep her on the edge of consciousness.
“What will we do with the bidder?”
The hostess gave a carefree wave, “Same as before. Collect the money, then kill him.”