Corrupt Cravings

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by Jennifer Salaiz




  The Soul Collector 2

  Corrupt Cravings

  Until Marcella meets Donavon, sneaking into the wolf pack alone was the most of her problems. Now, surrounded by chaos, will Marcella be able to learn to get control over her sexy wolf before she has to take him back, or will Donavon's possessive behavior be too much when confronted with her other men?

  There’s nothing more that Donavon wants than to live a happy life with Marcella, but when her other men come into the picture he’s faced with a reality he thought was only in his dreams. Will the alpha inside of him allow things to go as planned, or will his domineering ways prove too much for any of them to handle?

  Genre: Multiple Partners, Paranormal

  Length: 87,986 words

  CORRUPT CRAVINGS

  The Soul Collector 2

  Jennifer Salaiz

  POLYAMOUR

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: PolyAmour

  CORRUPT CRAVINGS

  Copyright © 2010 by Jennifer Salaiz

  E-book ISBN: 1-61034-050-7

  First E-book Publication: November 2010

  Cover design by Jinger Heaston

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2010 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  DEDICATION

  To my publisher, and the whole Siren team. Thank you for making it possible to share my stories. You’ll never fully know how much I appreciate what you’ve all done for me.

  “Appreciation is the purest, strongest form of love. It is the outward-bound kind of love that asks for nothing and gives everything.”

  — Kelly Corrigan

  CORRUPT CRAVINGS

  The Soul Collector 2

  JENNIFER SALAIZ

  Copyright © 2010

  Chapter 1

  Fate rarely gives people what they want. The pieces of love and happiness they receive along the way are what inspire them to feel fulfilled. Samael wasn’t stupid. That little thing everyone called destiny had screwed him on more occasions than he cared to remember. But when it came to Marcella, now that had been the ultimate fuck you.

  Yeah, he hoped Lady Luck was looking back down on him. She’d see him raising his middle finger high in the air with a proper response to all the damn heartache he’d been caused. Bringing Marcella back should have been what saved him, but no, when she returned, so did her men. He hadn’t expected that to happen. Yeah, the bitch Fate had fucked him once again. She always did. Maybe Samael should have learned, but once upon a time, he had been shown what good could do, and ever since, he felt the beginnings of a faith he couldn’t explain. Daddy would be so proud.

  Rubbing his eyes, he went over the last few weeks in his head. Making Marcella believe she’d asked to come back was just one of his many lies. If she knew the entire truth, she would loathe him. And he deserved every ounce of hate her body harbored. But Samael couldn’t help the events he’d started by selfishly resurrecting her. She was the light he needed, and now, thanks to him, she was probably condemned to an agonizing death all over again. He truly was his father’s son.

  Looking down the long table, Zepar, his older brother and the president to all the master demons, stood as he went over reports. The look on his tanned, boyish face was one of complete boredom. Of course, after so many meetings, everything did seem to remain the same. Same old shit, different century. Go figure.

  “Samael, do you have anything to report before I close up?”

  Crystal blue eyes, the same as his and his father’s, stared back at him. Fingers rushed through the short, black hair while Zepar waited for a response. A smile came to Samael’s lips. Yes, my brother, dear. I’ve brought back the love of my miserable life, and instead of us living happily ever after, it seems the war between good and evil is back on. Except this time, my sweet Marcianna, AKA Marcella, has made other plans. Plans I’m not even aware of.

  Samael cleared his throat. “No. Nothing new.”

  “How is Ipos? Is he faring well with the humans?”

  Samael thought of the demon prince, who happened to be Marcella’s mate. He went by the human name of Dominic. Just hearing the man mentioned sent a rage coursing through his blood. How could the man have been right under his nose, and he never knew who he truly was? Damn, he’d been stupid. Regardless, he couldn’t hate Dom, no matter how hard he tried. The guy was just too good to the woman he loved.

  “Ipos is a success in the human world, that’s why I sent him there. How many times are we going to go over this?”

  Zepar narrowed his eyes, a smile lifting the edge of his full lips. “As many times as it takes, my dear brother. You know I never approved of letting the prince leave to begin with. He’s too much of an asset. If something happens, you know I’ll hold you responsible.”

  Samael knew exactly what he was talking about. The fear that Dominic would turn good and they’d lose one of the fiercest leaders to their troops weighed heavily on his brother’s mind. And Zepar should have been worried because as far as Samael was concerned, Marcella was capable of anything. Turning someone toward the good side would be a piece of cake. Hell, she’d made him, a dark angel, take a step back and ponder things. Who would have thought that was possible?

  “I take full responsibility.” Samael stood from the plush, black velvet chair. The rest of the masters followed suit.

  “Good. Meeting adjourned. Until next time.”

  Samael headed for the door, ready to escape the confines of the stuffy room. A throat clearing had his feet coming to a stop. He should have known his brother wasn’t done with him.

  “Shut the door and take a seat. There’s something I wish to speak to you about.”

  “What couldn’t possibly be said during the meeting? You know my schedule is pretty tight. I really don’t have time for this.”

  A low laugh brought his eyes up. Zepar gestured to the chair, his expression saying only one thing, you’re so fucking busted. Shit. Sitting next to the head chair, Samael kept contact with his stare.

  “So, where have you been lately? You rarely spend time in your quarters anymore. Is there something you should be telling me?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. Last I checked, you weren’t my keeper. But, if you must know, I have a place on earth. Human women are rather enjoyable. They’re different from the ones here. Less drama, if you will.”

  “You sure that’s all?”

  “Well, actually,” Samael continued, letting his smile mirror his brother’s, “there is something.”

  “Do tell.” The all-too-eager look of evil flashed behind Zepar’s eyes. Buying some time, Samael looked at the dark, red and gold lace-patterned walls. Everything in the underworld was nothing like what people expected. There were no raging fires or torture devices in mile-long rows. No. The place was a lot like earth.

  The people who resided in the underworld didn’t physically go through pain. Not unless they enjoyed inflicting it in their previous lives. The majority of them dealt with mental anguish as their persecution. Needless to say, every day, they relived the hell they exhibited to others. Nothing like a cold slap of reality.

  “Well, I’m waiting.”

  “Right.” Samael pushed his long hair back out of his face. “One word. Angels. I’m thinking
of setting a trap.”

  There it was. Pure malevolence poured from his brother’s skin, leaving the room musky and metallic. “You let me know when. I have to see this. If it’s who I think it is, I’m going to snap his Goddamn wings off.”

  Samael laughed. “Nemmy would kick your ass, Zepar.” Nemamiah, or Nemmy as they referred to him, might have been an angel, but he was a warrior, nevertheless. The damn man was a force to be reckoned with. If stalking was against some sort of law for their kind, Nemmy would have been slapped with a restraining order a hell of a long time ago. The guy always picked Samael to watch over. They shared way too much history.

  “Fuck you, Sam. That angel doesn’t have shit on me. I should rearrange your face for even saying something like that.”

  “Well, as I hear it, Nemmy isn’t alone anymore.”

  Blue eyes widened as his brother leaned in closer, resting his chin on his fist. Samael knew the wheels were spinning inside of Zepar’s head faster than he could dish out the latest gossip. “Really. Now that’s something new. Who’s Nemmy paired up with? Gabriel?” Zepar asked curiously.

  “Yeah, right. Like he’d leave his position pouncing through the clouds. You couldn’t even guess.”

  A growl left the demon master’s mouth. “No.” He drew the one word out for what seemed an eternity. “Tell me it’s not that bastard Caspius. I swear, if you say it is I’m going to blow that son of a bitch back to where he came from.”

  “None other. So, you want me to summon you when I have everything worked out?” Samael ran his fingers over the stubble on his face. Zepar looked way too distracted, and it was exactly what he needed.

  “You’d better.”

  Samael nodded and dematerialized before his brother could say anything else. Fuck, that was a close one. The whole angel crap might have bought him some time, but it was truer than he wanted to think about.

  Appearing in his penthouse, Samael stood at the room-length windows, motionless, staring out over the Gulf of Mexico. With the way Corpus Christi was located along the Texas coast, he got a perfect view of the edgings of Ingleside. He knew if Dominic hadn’t shielded the fortress, he’d be able to see it from here. Where was Marcella? Was she standing out on her balcony like she always was? No, not this early. With a sigh, he walked over and collapsed into his bed. The sun was just starting to come up, which only meant one thing. Sleep.

  * * * *

  An overpowering need caused Marcella’s eyes to open. Walking disoriented out to the balcony of her fortress, she stood dazed as the smell of salt water engulfed her senses from the mere miles that separated her from the Gulf.

  Wind whipped through her long, dark hair as the sun broke over the small town, casting off beautiful shades of pink and orange. From as high as she rested off the ground, the murky, dark green water aligning the coast came into clear view. The buildings of the nearby city grabbed her attention, but they didn’t hold her attention for long.

  Flashes of her past life began to project before her. They were getting stronger the more she learned about the queen she used to be. Somehow, this vision didn’t seem any different from the others, except that she had woken up to have it. Locked with the familiar face, her own face, she couldn’t turn away from watching Marcianna stare at her. The crown resting on her forehead glistened in the sunlight as she began to come forward.

  Marcella could feel her heart race at the advance of her former self. She knew no matter what her dark angel friend, Samael, had said, they couldn’t be the same person. Not when Marcianna seemed to have a mind of her own, not to mention her own personality, separate from Marcy’s. Of course, it could have just felt that way because she hadn’t regained all of her memories. Hell, when it came to figuring out her past, she was lost.

  Golden eyes came to rest inches in front of her face, pulling her from focusing on her racing mind. The beginnings of a smile started to form at the corner of the pale queen’s ruby lips. The need to smile back was strangely instinctive. It was almost as if they shared something, something Marcy couldn’t decipher. This person didn’t seem so ruthless. Not at the moment, anyway.

  “We have done well, my young self. If you’ve grown this open, then I have advanced as far as I knew I would. Do not fear me, for I know you will. I wouldn’t trust myself, either, were I put in this situation.

  “If you haven’t figured it out, then know this is nothing more than one of my memories speaking to you. I have left a few that you will cross in your progression. I fear I do not know where I rest on this conquest as of now, but there is something imperative you should know. Heed my advice well, for if you do not, we are doomed to repeat our past.” There was a pause as the queen seemed to think on how to relay the message. “There are certain men in our life who are not what they appear to be. Only one holds the key.”

  A ripple distorted the image Marcella could see before her. As Marcianna’s concerned face twisted with sadness, the soft touch of her hand to Marcy’s cheek ended the vision. A cluster of emotions poured through her as she sunk to all fours on the empty balcony. Heartache and sorrow like she’d never felt before exploded through every part of her being.

  What did she mean the men weren’t what they appeared to be? And who held the key to what?

  Tears splashed against the stone as sobs wracked her chest. The instability of her mind was doing nothing but crippling her lately. How could she focus on bringing everything together to protect her and her followers if she couldn’t even get a grip on herself?

  “Love, what’s wrong?”

  Marcella looked up into the blue eyes of her demon mate, Dominic. The blonde curls framed his face while he lowered his large, powerful body down toward her. His angelic features turned beyond beautiful as the sun haloed out from behind him. In awe, Marcella momentarily lost her train of thought. The muscles in his chest flexed while his hand reached for her shoulder. The tightening in her lower stomach was automatic.

  “Nothing is wrong. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

  He scooped her body in his arms, carrying her to the bed. Energy caressed her skin, and she didn’t have to look up to know her boyfriend, Jason, or her newest lover was awake and waiting to hear what happened. Mindlessly, Marcella shook her head and wiggled down from Dominic’s arms. She was not weak, and she wasn’t going to start acting like it, either. Easing to the edge of the bed, she closed her eyes while Dom started to pace.

  “Just give me a minute to collect my thoughts,” she whispered.

  “Marcella, tell me what’s wrong. I can feel the difference in you.” Jason’s voice was hoarse as he tried to speak to her soothingly. The need to tell them about the vision brought her mouth open, but she closed it just as fast. They couldn’t know this kept happening. Ever. Somehow, she knew that.

  “It’s the voices of my creatures. I can’t think on my own.”

  Jason eased forward on the bed, making her turn in his direction. A yawn came from his mouth as he ran his fingers through his dark brown hair. The tribal tattoos of his collector trailed down the length of his arms. Marcella studied the ink covering his whole upper body. The dragon on the middle of his chest drew her attention. It was something she’d wondered about a lot lately.

  “Babe, when was the last time you shifted into something besides a collector? You know this happens when you wait too long.”

  “I’m fine, seriously. I was a bit overwhelmed, that’s all.”

  “Marcy, you haven’t changed form since Gwendolyn, have you? I know you haven’t with me.”

  Jerking her eyes to Ambrose’s dark green vampire depths, she looked down quickly. The hysterical laughter of her demon haunted her dreams. She could still remember it chanting excitedly as she exploded the fire from her skin, resulting in the murdering vampire’s death. But if she hadn’t done that, she had no doubt Gwen would have ripped her throat out without a second thought. No one holding that amount of anger wanted to willingly give over the souls of her servants, or herself. Not even if
it was for her own good.

  Dominic cleared his throat. “Answer him, Marcella. I know you haven’t shifted into anything with me. I just assumed you did it with one of the others.”

  She glared over at her mate. “No, Dom, I haven’t. But it’s only been a few days.”

  “A week,” Jason corrected her, collapsing back to the pillow. Ambrose stood and walked over closer to her, as did Dominic.

  “A week is not a big deal. I’ve gone nine days without my succubus coming.”

  Dominic’s blue eyes penetrated hers. “Yeah, and do you remember how much you drained me? I slept harder than the dead. No one could have awakened me if they tried.”

  “Yes, I remember.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, but I have three of you now. When she comes, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Anyway, enough of this. I need details on my missing man. Let’s go over what Ben said about Donavon again. I want to hear every word that came out of his mouth.”

  “Do not change the subject, love. I think we need to address your problem. It’s already getting out of hand if you’re overwhelmed, as you put it.” Dominic tilted his head as he looked at her. The all too familiar anger associated with her collector coursed through her blood. An arm wrapped around her waist and pulled back, keeping her from opening her mouth.

  “Leave her alone, Dom. We have all day to address her changing into something else. Let’s just lie back down and relax. The freaking sun is barely up. I want to go back to sleep.”

  Marcella curled into Jason’s body, burying her face into his chest. The agitated growl from her mate was quickly followed by a shift in the mattress. Ambrose remained quiet as he also climbed into bed on the other side of her boyfriend.

 

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