Chain of Lust (3 page)

Her face turned magenta. “Pervert.”

He couldn’t help laughing. “Has anybody told you, you look so cute when you’re angry?”

Chapter Two

Maddie had felt jumpy ever since she’d come home from her botched interview. She half expected Jean-Luc to barge into her apartment when she least expected it.

He didn’t scare her.

No, not at all.

She dreaded the fact that that she owed him something. She’d never kissed a bounty hunter from Hell and it unnerved her.

She wasn’t a prude or anything. She’d dated a few times in the past, when Aunt Liv had still been around—back when her life had been normal. Ghosts and spirits hadn’t dared to bug her like they did now. Aunt Liv was crafty at making wards and amulets to keep the Unseen at bay. Maddie’s main stupidity had been in assuming Aunt Liv was going to be around forever. Maddie was too lazy to learn the ways to protect herself. One day, when she’d found Aunt Liv on the bathroom floor, unconscious from the stroke she had suffered, she knew her life had taken a downhill turn.

Maddie turned off the stove and checked her baked mashed potatoes in the oven. They had turned out nicely. The crispy cheese topping bubbled. She lifted the foil on the pork chops. They seemed almost ready as well. Maddie closed the oven and checked on the chicken noodle soup. She yanked the ladle out and drew a long breath, feeling frustrated.

She was at the end of her rope. When she’d verified her bank account today, she only had twenty-eight dollars and seventy cents. Wasn’t nearly enough to buy groceries next week, let alone to pay off her rent. Her last paycheque from the hotel had dried up. She hoped she could borrow some money from her mom when she came over for dinner tonight. Or perhaps she would be allowed to move under her roof until her money problem was solved. Problem was, her mom was afraid of her because of her uncanny gift. The very reason she’d gone to live with Aunt Liv after her parents’ divorce.

Maddie shut the oven off and sank on a kitchen chair. She glanced at her gloomy studio apartment that she could no longer afford. Six months after Aunt Liv’s passing, she’d been reduced from promising yuppie to almost homeless. She’d had a nice job at an insurance agency and had been seeing a nice guy. A month after her Aunt’s death, she’d got fired from work for allegedly splashing hot coffee on her boss, which wasn’t really her doing. A ghost of an opera singer had done that because the diva was angry Maddie had ignored her. And Thomas, the nice guy she was seeing, had simply run away after he’d realised he was cuddling a skeleton. Maddie had been in the bathroom when that had happened. Thomas had become allergic to her afterwards. She couldn’t really blame him. Any man would freak out if they had been in his shoes. Her ex-boyfriend had been traumatised when he’d found out he was making out with a ghost.

She covered her face with her hands, wondering what she had done wrong.

But if she took Jean-Luc’s offer…

Maddie pushed the thoughts away. Aunt Liv had religiously drilled a credo into her head when she’d been growing up. Never make a pact with the Unseen beings. Never trust them. Never let herself become indebted to them, no matter what. The Unseen were self-serving beings. Devious. Wicked. Their way of thinking was totally different to that of humans. That was because of their code of honours. They always had ulterior motives. One would be wise not to get involved with their kind.

Her aunt was a medium. When Aunt Liv was young, she had got into a sticky situation and made a pact with an ancient djinn. The powerful spirit had sexually enslaved her for thirty long years, and physically abused her. And when she had finally been able to trick the djinn into releasing her from their pact, Aunt Liv had sworn no descendent of hers would suffer the way she had done.

Maddie’s mind drifted to Jean-Luc, thinking about his offer. Her body in exchange for his protection. He wanted her as his sexual slave. Just like Aunt Liv’s djinn. Her aunt had made a pact to save Grandma from terminal cancer. The spirit had taken the cancer away, but Grandma still died from renal failure a year later. Had it really been worth it? Aunt Liv said at the time it was, but Maddie knew she regretted her decision. The djinn might be one of the most beautiful creatures, but he was very cruel. And sadistic. Aunt Liv had been very open with her ordeal and the stories Maddie had heard scared the hell out of her. Really, she didn’t want to take that chance. She didn’t know what kind of man, or Hellhound, Jean-Luc was.

Even though he was straightforward about what he wanted, Jean-Luc hadn’t tried any hanky panky after she flat-out rejected his proposition. They had had dinner and when they were done, like he’d promised, Jean-Luc had escorted her home safe and sound. But just before he was leaving, he’d told her he was a patient man. He said he felt confident she’d come around. With the way shit rolled down the hill, Maddie had a bad feeling she’d end up crawling to Jean-Luc for help.

Maybe, if he wasn’t a Hellhound, things would be different.

One thing was for sure, he was cute. Okay, he was sexy as hell—the type of man a woman wouldn’t hesitate for a second to jump bones with. He met all the requirements of that tall, dark, and handsome stranger cliché, and so much more. But he was a dead man walking, an agent for the Pit, and those facts alone took away all of his brownie points as an eligible bachelor. Maddie had hoped to have a normal life, and perhaps a family in the future. And being Jean-Luc’s plaything didn’t offer her any of those possibilities. And if Jean-Luc turned out to be as wicked as Aunt Liv’s djinn…

No. She couldn’t make a pact with him.

God forbid…

The doorbell rang.

Maddie jumped from her seat and padded across the living room. It must be her mom and her stepfather. If this went well, she might not need to ask Jean-Luc help.

She hoped.

* * * *

“Any problem with your last gig?” Paolo Basso, his boss, drew a long puff from his cigar and exhaled luxuriously.

Jean-Luc wrinkled his nose, trying to avoid the cloud of smoke, but the nauseating stench found its way to his nostrils. Basso seemed to be fond of a certain cheap cigar he used to smoke when he’d been human. His boss had been a
capo
for a mob family that had ruled the Bronx in the forties, until he’d got capped, execution style, while consorting with his mistress. After his death, Basso made a deal with a head honcho of the Pit, who’d turned him into a Hellhound. At the rate Hell was filling up, the Management was starting to find there was a lack of resources and manpower in order to keep ruling.

Jean-Luc himself had been Pit resident, once. He’d been sent to Hell after he was sentenced to death for exacting his revenge on the man who had raped and murdered his wife. After his death, he’d managed to find that bastard in the Pit. And did he make that man wish he’d never been born. His plight had generated attention from the Upper Management and one thing led to another and he was contracted as a Hellhound.

It had happened almost a century ago. When the roads hadn’t been filled with cars and their lung-suffocating fumes, and women’s skirts hadn’t been so short.

Jean-Luc moved slightly in his chair to avoid the constant smoke his boss puffed out. He had abhorred smoking when he was alive and he still abhorred it now. Sometimes he wondered if his aversion to smoking was caused by his hatred of his wife’s killer. Elliot Perrault, the rapist and murderer, had been a heavy smoker. Elliot also happened to be his first cousin and his business partner.

“Sieg pulled out the usual stunt, but there was nothing I couldn’t handle.” Jean-Luc grabbed his drink and slowly downed it until it was empty. The whisky burnt his mouth and throat. Just the way he liked it. Maison Plaisir’s own vintage brew. Sharp. Strong like rocket fuel. One might shit fire afterwards.

Basso tapped the end of his cigar and drew another long puff. “It’s not Sieg I’m worried about.”

Jean-Luc arched an eyebrow, inquiring.

“It’s Sieg’s patron. I’m sure you know who she was.”

Jean-Luc snorted. He was more than aware. Siegfried Chacon, his last hunt, had been a gigolo in his mortal life. From his reputation, he appeared to be one of the rare few who knew how to use his cock. Siegfried went to Hell because he schemed to have his far older wife murdered for her inheritance. In the Pit, his legendary skill had attracted the attention of Lilith, the demoness who had self-proclaimed herself as the queen of Hell. Lilith had taken Sieg as her consort. The bastard should’ve been content. But no, Siegfried decided to sneak out of the Pit and run off.

Balam, the Duke of Hell, wasn’t happy with it and had assigned Jean-Luc to retrieve Siegfried. Jean-Luc had hauled the gigolo’s ass back into the Pit’s holding facility after three weeks’ pursuit. He’d heard Balam wanted to stick Siegfried into the dreg as his punishment. Lilith wanted the crafty gigolo back in her bed. And when two powerful demons bickered among themselves, things could get ugly really, really fast.

“I’m aware. But I take no part in their politics. I caught the guy as I was told. I processed and locked him. He’s not my headache anymore.”

“Right. But until Sieg is given his formal sentence, he’s still officially your charge.”

“And your point is?”

“Lilith wants her boytoy back. And what Lilith wants, Lilith gets. If Lilith gets Sieg before Lucifer awards his formal sentencing, you’re going to look very bad in the eyes of the Upper Management.
Capiche
?”

“It only takes a couple of days for formal sentencing. I processed Sieg yesterday. Today should be his sentencing time.”

Basso shook his head. “Lucifer’s on vacation. It’ll take a couple of weeks for his return. At least.”

Jean-Luc swore. “Why do I always have to deal with shit like this?”

“Your own fault.” Basso crushed the bud of his cigar in the ashtray and drained his whisky in several gulps. “Why do you have to be so good at your job?”

Jean-Luc snorted. Among the contract Hellhounds, he was one of the few who always got his men. Before his demise, he’d been a plantation owner, running a vast family estate in New Caledonia. He didn’t know why the bounty hunting job came almost naturally for him. Perhaps it was because he’d liked hunting when he was alive. He had spent hours honing his skill in his spare time. It was the thrill that made him addicted. And hunting deer, game, or escaped souls from the Pit wasn’t so different after all.

“So, what do you suggest?” Jean-Luc asked his boss.

“Nothing. Just sit tight and do nothing until Lucifer’s back. I’m taking you off rotation until this one is sorted out. The last thing you want to do is to get dragged into a shitstorm when Lilith has one of her tantrums.”

“
Merde
,” Jean-Luc murmured. “Fine with me.”

“Oh?” Basso looked surprised. “You usually hate idling and vacations.”

“Well, I need one this time. I’m burnt out,” Jean-Luc threw out his excuse. He had never taken a day off since the day he’d become a Hellhound. He had two hundred more years to go, according to his contract. He’d drowned himself in work to forget his pain of losing Selene, his wife. And so far, it had worked. Hellhounds were given seven days a year where they were allowed to roam strictly for leisure purposes. He planned to take one.

Maddie was his reason.

He was planning to ask Basso for some time off after he met Maddie. He wanted to woo her. With a little persistence, he might be able to convince her to become his. For the first time in decades, he felt human again.

Maddie made him feel like that.

And he surely wouldn’t waste any opportunity to claim her. It wasn’t every day he met a woman who set his blood on fire. Just like Selene had once done.

Basso gave him a sidelong glance. Jean-Luc couldn’t guess if his boss really bought it. If Basso didn’t, he certainly kept it to himself. Basso reached into his pocket and extracted another cigar. “You deserve some vacation,” his boss growled. “Just keep your eyes peeled. I don’t like the way things are going right now. Lilith’s tantrums are always a pain in the ass.”

Jean-Luc groaned instinctively. He couldn’t agree more.

* * * *

The rain thickened as Maddie left a local adult bookstore a block away from her apartment building. She was on her way to buy milk and crackers when she saw a man put up a ‘Help Wanted’ sign on the window. She leapt on it and asked the owner about the job. She didn’t care if the establishment was less than reputable, hell, she desperately needed a job. Her mom couldn’t help her with her current situation and she hadn’t the slightest idea where her next paycheque would come from.

The owner of Jerry’s World had hesitated in hiring her. He was looking for a male employee, on account of his store being a holy grail for perverts and weirdoes. But Maddie persisted and twenty minutes after the haggling started, she got the job. The pay still wouldn’t enable to her make ends meet, but at least if she had a job, she might be able to convince her landlord not to evict her next week.

She abandoned her attempt to go to the grocery store and headed home. Jerry, her new boss, told her she could start working today. Maddie wanted to change her sundress to something demure that wouldn’t attract unnecessary attention during her shift.

The rain had turned into a downpour by the time she reached her apartment building. Shaking like a wet dog, Maddie went into the lobby and headed to the stairs. After the incident with the poltergeists, she’d avoided elevators like the plague. There was nothing worse than being confined in an enclosed space with a bunch of nasty spirits and no way out. Stairs were a pain in the butt, but it was better than a metal death trap.

Maddie was out of breath when she finally got to her apartment. She was usually in good shape, but since Aunt Liv’s passing, she felt as if she’d been stretched out too thin. She was halfway to the kitchen when she saw someone sitting on her living room sofa. Half of his body shielded by the darkness. Being accustomed to seeing things that shouldn’t be noticed, she usually ignored what she saw, unless whatever it was started to bug her. But she couldn’t ignore this. She would recognise that trench coat anywhere…