Chain of Lust Page 8

  “But my Lord—”

  “I know your reputation, Berthier. You’ve always got your men. What’s the matter? You don’t like to see your record broken?”

  “That is not why I’m here, my Lord. I’m asking you for a boon. I wish you to pass a judgement in favour of Duke Balam.”

  Jean-Luc had thought long about his decision to bring this matter to Lucifer’s attention. After he’d found out that Jezebel, under Lilith’s order, had used Adrian Storke’s death omen to harm Maddie, he’d calculated it was only a matter of time before Jezebel tried again. He wouldn’t win against Lilith. In Pit hierarchy, a Hellhound was only an ordinary grunt, compared to a powerful demon like Lilith. Maddie was a pawn and he couldn’t lose her. The only person who could solve this problem was Lucifer. Once he had passed the judgement, there was nothing Lilith could do about it.

  “Give me one reason why I should grant you a boon.”

  Jean-Luc took a deep breath and chose his words carefully. Maddie’s image flashed through his mind. Her pretty smile. Her sparkling eyes. “There’s a woman. I don’t think I can live without her,” Jean-Luc began. “Her name is Madeline…”

  * * * *

  That asshole! Maddie struggled in her bonds. If I get my hands on her, I swear I’m going to strangle that bitch. Demon. Monster. Whatever. Maddie rolled to her side and bumped her face against the wood. She had been stuffed into a cupboard and the dingy, enclosed space gave her the willies. The ropes dug into her skin and the socks stuffed in her mouth made her stomach roil. She had been so furious, the only thing she could hear right now was the wild galloping of her pulse. If someone turned into a monster right before their eyes, one would think to scram far, far away immediately? Not rooted like a dumb vegetable?

  Maddie let out a long, muffled exhalation. She couldn’t believe she had been this stupid. So gullible. How could she not see that Madame Ronnauds was an imposter? A real socialite would never ask for a newbie personal shopper. That bitch had tricked her employer in order to get close to her. Genevieve wouldn’t send just anybody. First Realm should be her safe haven. Just as Jean-Luc had promised her.

  Through the crack of the cupboard’s door, Maddie could see her kidnapper pace around the room with a cell phone stuck to her ear. Occasionally, she barked at the person at the end of line, threatening how she’d love to gouge the poor sap’s eyes out if he didn’t do what she wanted. Maddie thrashed on the cold floor. I’ll show you who loves eye gouging too… Irritation bubbled in her chest. Man, if I could smack that bitch good…

  She didn’t know why she was this furious. Her fear had been replaced with a cold sheath of anger. She had been too stunned to move when Madame Ronnauds had turned into a tall, scaly demoness. But when that demoness had spirited her to this place, bound her and taunted that she couldn’t see what Jean-Luc had seen in her, all Maddie could think of was to get even with her kidnapper.

  She had introduced herself as Jezebel. She and Jean-Luc were fuck buddies, and would be again once she got rid of Maddie.

  At first, Maddie couldn’t see what Jean-Luc had seen in Jezebel. Horns, leathery scales and all. After Maddie had been shoved into a cupboard, Jezebel revealed her human form. Blonde. Perfect rack and long legs, with flawless skin, as pristine as white stone. God, Maddie hated her. Something territorial snapped inside her chest. She and Jean-Luc were together now. Sure, they became lovers under unique circumstances, but damn it, Jean-Luc’s drool-worthy ass was hers.

  That bitch was lying.

  Jean-Luc had never mentioned Jezebel. She guessed it was normal for a guy like him to have a few flings over the years, but from the vibes she’d picked up from Jean-Luc, he was practically celibate. He had told her about his late wife, Selene, and his hell-bent desire for revenge. Maddie admired him. More so when he confided she made him feel the way he had once felt for Selene. Jean-Luc didn’t seem like a man who smooth-talked his way into a woman’s panties, so yeah, she felt damn special.

  The fucking bitch was lying.

  Demons always lied. Didn’t they?

  Maddie wondered if Jezebel was the one who had sent the death omen. She must be. Maddie was sure. When the death omen failed, that bitch decided to finish the job personally. The question was why Jezebel had a bone to pick with her in the first place? Jealous ex-girlfriend trying to get even? That was so clichéd.

  Jean-Luc always dismissed her when she asked who wanted to hurt her, saying he was taking care of it and it was none of her concern. After a few unsuccessful attempts, she gave up. Jean-Luc was more stubborn than she was. She figured he’d tell her when he was ready.

  The door burst open.

  Maddie squinted at the crack, trying to get a better look. Jezebel jumped from her seat. Jean-Luc was at the door, looked utterly pissed off.

  “Where is she?” he barked.

  “Berthier,” Jezebel said, “I’m hurt. We haven’t seen each other in a long time and all you can say is ‘where is she?’ You know, where I come from, we say hello. I remember you were a much more cultured person the last time I saw you, darling.”

  Jean-Luc shoved her out of his way. “Where are you keeping her? I can smell her scent. She’s here.” His gaze scanned the room.

  Maddie made a noise to catch his attention. He didn’t hear her. Maddie screamed through her gag. Jean-Luc still didn’t notice.

  “Oh, Berthier, you’re so predictable.” Jezebel ran her hand over the lapel of his coat. “Always to the point.”

  Jean-Luc snagged her hand and wrenched it off him. “Last time. Where is Maddie?”

  Jezebel sighed theatrically. “Do you have Siegfried?”

  “No.”

  “Then you can’t have her.”

  “I despise your dirty games, Jezebel. Your mistress’, too. I don’t plan to play one and never will.”

  “That’s not the way it works, darling. My mistress wants Siegfried. When she gets him back, then you shall have your little slut back. Unharmed.”

  A flash of fury hurtled across his face. “What did you do to her?”

  “She’s alive, if that’s what you mean.”

  Jean-Luc growled like a beast. The sound of it made the hair on Maddie’s skin stand on end. “We’ve never crossed paths before, but I’ll tell you, you just fucked with the wrong guy.”

  “Oh, please.” Jezebel’s phony laugh rang to the ceilings. “I’ve fucked with all different guys before.”

  With one agitated swoop, he grabbed Jezebel by her shirt and smashed her against the wall. “Listen, demon. Lucifer has passed a judgement. Siegfried must do the time. I escorted that sorry ass prick to Level Twelve an hour ago. He’s going to be there for a very long time. So you can tell that bitch of a mistress of yours, she can kiss my ass.”

  “You’re bluffing. Lucifer is indisposed.”

  “Not anymore. He’s back and he would be very interested to hear what you and your mistress have done. The Pit is no longer Lilith’s own sandbox.”

  Maddie squirmed and pressed her face near to the crack. She couldn’t see Jezebel clearly from this angle. She just saw her arm flailing next to Jean-Luc’s bulk.

  “Where is she?” Jean-Luc’s angry voice filled the room.

  Jezebel replied with derisive laughter.

  Why didn’t Jean-Luc notice her, she wondered. The cupboard’s door was thin. He should be able to hear her. Maddie leaned on her side and smashed the heel of her shoes on the wood, rattling the whole door. She screamed through her gag.

  Jean-Luc jerked his head. Alarmed. He released Jezebel. The woman stumbled to the floor. “She’s here,” he hissed. “You veiled her. Show her to me, demon.”

  He noticed! Maddie kicked the door over and over, as hard as she could.

  “Lift your spell, Jezebel,” he warned.

  “You wish.”

  Another hissing growl swept the room. Black fury darkened Jean-Luc’s face. He pounced at Jezebel. Maddie couldn’t believe what she saw. One moment she saw an angry man and the next
, he’d shifted into a gargantuan black dog from Hell.

  Maddie cringed. She’d never seen Jean-Luc in his beastly form. Not in such an obvious way. She’d seen the shadow of a great dog when he’d saved her from being flattened on the pavement. The beastly Jean-Luc was scary. He looked like a Rottweiler on steroids, the size of a male bison. His fangs were bigger than Maddie’s arm and his paws were larger than a car’s hubcap. A feral anger emanated from the great beast. Not a drop of humanity was left in him.

  The dog snatched Jezebel in his mouth and shook her like a rag doll. The demoness screamed in pain. He gave a rough yank and flung Jezebel like he was tossing a Frisbee. Jezebel slammed against the wall and crumpled. The dog pounced on her and shook her again, as if he wanted to tear her to pieces. Jezebel begged him to stop. When he did, Jezebel was lying in a heap, a mess. She didn’t look like the gorgeous diva she had been a few minutes ago. She looked like a leathery dragonfly that had had its wings plucked.

  The dog sniffed the air and turned in Maddie’s direction. He ran and pounded the cupboard’s door. The wood splintered everywhere. Maddie closed her eyes. When she opened them the great big dog was crouching next to her. Happy.

  “Whoa. Easy boy…” she said through her gag.

  Jean-Luc shifted into his human form. He removed her gag and the ropes. “That bitch,” he murmured. “How dare she do this to you?”

  Maddie was relieved. She rubbed her forearms and wrists. The ropes had made her legs fall asleep. He helped her to stand.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Kinda.”

  “Let’s get out of here.” Jean-Luc swept her off the floor and carried her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

  Maddie protested. A heartbeat later, everything blurred. Jean-Luc moved at such incredible speed, all she could see were moving shadows. She was dizzy. When the vertigo finally stopped, she found herself on the roof of a building.

  It was night-time. The sky was clear. The air was pleasant, with a slight chilly breeze.

  Jean-Luc put her on her feet and gave her a bone-crushing hug. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “I…can’t…breathe…”

  He released her. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  Maddie patted her chest, coughing. “Maybe now you can tell me what it’s all about?”

  “I guess I owe you that.” Jean-Luc sighed. He told her everything. About the political strain in the Pit. Power struggles between the demons. His charge, Siegfried, and his regret that Maddie had been used as a pawn.

  When Jean-Luc finished his story, a wave of relief washed over Maddie. So, this wasn’t about a jealous ex-girlfriend wanting to get even after all. Maddie let out a weak laugh. “Damn. I thought I’d taken somebody else’s boyfriend.”

  Jean-Luc’s lush brows arched. “Boyfriend?”

  Maddie told her what Jezebel had blabbed earlier.

  “Boyfriend?” Jean-Luc repeated in disbelief. “Why would I want a demon as my lover?”

  “Well, I don’t know.” She snorted. “I thought you had a thing for the leathery scaly chick.”

  Jean-Luc studied her face. A triumphant smile hovered at the corner of his lips. “You’re jealous.”

  “I’m not,” she retorted hotly.

  “Yes, you are.” His grinned from ear to ear. “You love me.”

  Maddie rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother.”

  Jean-Luc smiled. “You do love me,” he pressed.

  She gave him a look.

  “You love me, admit it.”

  Humph.

  “Admit it.”

  “Fine. I love you.”

  “Sorry, I can’t hear you.”

  “I love you.”

  “Mmm. One more time.”

  “I love you. I love you. Happy now?”

  “I’ve never been happier. I love you too, Madeline. More than you’ll ever know.” He lowered his head and kissed her until she was out of breath. He groped her ass and squeezed her. “Let’s go home, shall we? We should celebrate.”

  Maddie grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck. She liked where this was going. “What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe dinner, hot bath, then you could show me how much you love me?”

  “Deal.”

  New from Total-E-Bound Publishing:

  Night of the Lions

  Lizzie Lynn Lee

  Released 23rd April 2012

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  She didn’t belong to this most exclusive gentlemen’s club in Manhattan, but the attendant who manned the lobby had let her in because he was mesmerised by her boobs.

  She had a great pair.

  They were real, thank you very much. Clothed in the black, lacy, padded Victoria’s Secret bra and a white cocktail dress with a dangerously low décolletage, her best assets had charmed many men and let her nose around places that were usually out of bounds.

  Catherine Kovac was a private investigator. Not a good one at that, since she barely had a hold on this trade. She had inherited the business from her late brother Jon. She used to be his secretary before Jon died in a car accident a few months ago, and already the agency was sinking like the Titanic. Detective work wasn’t like answering calls or running the payroll, and she’d found herself lousy at locating missing cats or tailing a cheating spouse.

  Her current gig, which she hoped would save the business, was to dig up as much dirty laundry as possible on a businessman named Gabriel Larousse. Her client, a forty-something reclusive named Judith Rossi, insisted that Gabe, as he was known, had been responsible for the death of her brother, Cameron Rossi, fourteen years earlier in Africa. Gabe was currently thirty-five years old. The incident must have happened when Gabe was twenty-one, three years before he’d started his real estate business.

  Gabe was a self-made billionaire. He’d started from nothing, working his ass off to flip the first property he’d managed into a profitable venture, and had built his empire from there. He had also been voted this year’s most eligible bachelor, on account that he’d reached the pinnacle of his success at quite a young age. It didn’t hurt that Gabe was easy on the eyes.

  Okay, Gabe was hot.

  Like, smoking hot.

  He and his brothers, Alexandre and Renaud, were the talk of the town. There must have been some good genes in the Larousse family because they were all devastatingly handsome. Cat wasn’t a gal who used that type of hyperbolic shit in her vocabulary, but the brothers were really gorgeous. They all stood over six feet tall, with signature coppery-blond hair, broad shoulders, tapered waists, and long legs. They could have passed as GQ models. And, armed with deep pockets, they were chick magnets. Too bad they were all socially tight-assed—it would take gallons of prune juice to clear up their plumbing. None of the brothers liked reporters, the media, or people like Cat. If they got a whiff that a nosy PI had invaded their personal playground, she would see her ass thrown to the kerb in a blink of an eye.

  She tried to be inconspicuous as the club attendant seated her at a table near the bar. His gaze was still hovering over her chest. She sighed inwardly. It was as if he’d never seen natural D cups before. But who was she to judge about men and their obsession with breasts? The compulsion was deep, as if it were coded into men’s DNA.

  She ordered a gin and tonic and threw the attendant the sweetest smile she could manage. She hoped he’d be distracted enough not to ask why she was here in the first place. The gentlemen’s club, Rococo Country, was a private establishment catering to members only, a watering hole in which wealthy businessmen in the upper crust of society could socialise, kiss ass, and plot on how to make themselves even richer. She told the attendant in black livery that she was here to meet her lawyer. He was going to be suspicious when her lawyer never arrived.

  In the meantime, her target, Gabriel Larousse, stood in the billiards room about twenty yards from where she sat. He was leisurely chalking his cue. His gaze was fixed o
n the white, red and yellow balls strewn across the table as if they were his mortal enemies. He tapped the cue ball with the precision of a sniper, scattering the other balls into the pockets.

  Cat didn’t know much about pool, but that had been pretty impressive. Gabe seemed like one of those people who treated everything as if it were a challenge to conquer. Maybe that was why he was a successful businessman.

  As she’d suspected, one of Gabe’s brothers was with him. Alexandre Larousse, Gabe’s second—or Gabe’s shadow, as people nicknamed him—was leaning by the wainscoted wall, talking in hushed tones on his cell phone. Gabe never went anywhere in public without one of his brothers. Alex and Ren, both younger than Gabe, were very protective—like capos to the don. One didn’t just flounce up to Gabe without Alex’s or Ren’s approval. If Alex or Ren didn’t like what they saw, one couldn’t get within ten feet of Gabriel Larousse without risking one’s neck.

  Luckily, she wasn’t here to talk to the big guy today. She was just stalking him. Observing what he was like in the flesh. The media had painted him as an enigmatic young god. Rumour had it he was a dangerous man to have as an enemy, and yet some vouched for him as a child-loving philanthropist. No one had ever figured out what kind of man Gabe really was.

  Aside from the fact that he was fucking hot.

  The club attendant came over with her order. She murmured her thanks and batted her eyelashes, flirting a bit.

  The man looked happy with the attention. “If I may ask, what would be the name of the gentleman you’re waiting for?” He drew himself straight, as if to make himself taller than he really was. “So I can direct the gentleman straight to your table, madam.”

  “Jackson,” Cat lied smoothly. “Marvin Jackson.”

  He inclined his head in a perfect gesture. He withdrew in silence. His eyes weren’t straying to her boobs any more.

  Good riddance.