Hell Bent

by Blaire Valentine

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE Tabby

  CHAPTER TWO Tabby

  CHAPTER THREE Tabby

  CHAPTER FOUR Tabby

  CHAPTER FIVE Tabby

  CHAPTER SIX Tabby

  CHAPTER SEVEN Tabby

  CHAPTER EIGHT Tabby

  CHAPTER NINE Tabby

  CHAPTER TEN Tabby

  CHAPTER ELEVEN Tabby

  CHAPTER TWELVE Tabby

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN Taby

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN Tabby

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN Tabby

  Hell Bent: My Franken Harem Book 1

  Blaire Valentine

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any electronic or

  mechanical means -except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or

  reviews -without written permission from the publisher. The characters and events

  portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is

  purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover by Katherine Bogle

  Copyright © 2018 Blaire Valentine

  All rights reserved.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Tabby

  Death is a kinky bastard.

  The women in my family weren't very lucky. Not for the last hundred years. Somehow some way a curse was placed upon us. That curse was a pretty shitty one.

  Every woman in the Monroe family was to die on her twenty-first birthday. It didn't matter that they were all witches. There was shit all they could do about it. They all died one by one.

  It started with my great-grandmother, Lola. She was a cabaret performer which I think is an old-timey way of saying she was a stripper. Died on her twenty-first birthday of a fever, only a few months after her daughter, my grandmother May was born.

  May was something of a troublemaker. She got knocked up with my Mom at sixteen and died five years later when a bus ran her over.

  Mom was almost too painful to talk about. I was only two when she died but I remembered her so vividly that it didn't matter. She had beautiful white blonde hair down to the small of her back, which to this day I was still imitating though my natural hair was mousey.

  She died too of course. A freak accident. She fell off a building. To anyone else, it would sound like suicide but there were witnesses. It was an accident. She would never leave me willingly.

  I spent my whole life knowing that I was going to meet him. We all do, really but very few of us know the exact date. Mine was cemented into my mind. With every year that passed, I noticed my time running out. Then it came. November third, exactly twenty-one years after I was born.

  I'd figured I might be stabbed. I often rubbed people up the wrong way. I was loud and a little obnoxious and I liked to party a bit too much. That could describe half the twenty-one-year-olds in America but I maintain that I was particularly difficult. The way that it actually happened came as something of a surprise to me.

  It was a sign. Not like that. An actual, literal giant metal sign on the top of a building. It was advertising a burger joint called Mad Max's Meat Mansion. Yeah, I wasn't too keen on the name either though I was told afterward that their blue cheese and bacon burger was to die for.

  It fell hundreds of feet and of course, I was the drunk idiot on the pavement underneath it. I saw it coming, and I was prepared.

  I wasn't a very good witch. My father was a mortal and he had fucked off to South America with his barely legal girlfriend the moment I came of age. I was able to keep Mom's house because it was in my name and they were never married. She would have been an idiot to marry him and my mother was no idiot. I didn't have a coven to work with and learn from but I'd flicked through a few old spell books here and there.

  I created a forcefield around myself and the sign bounced off of me. I was only able to maintain it for about a minute, but that was all I needed. I had saved myself. Death couldn't get me.

  He came for me that night.

  Most people are scared of Death but I wasn't. I'd spent so many years waiting to meet him that he was like an imaginary friend to me. Sometimes I talked to him when I was alone. In my head, he was a skeleton with a black hood. Some people would find that image scary but I found it oddly comforting. His face was blank, expressionless and judgment-free. He wasn't taking me because he wanted to or because he thought I deserved it. He was just doing his job. In an odd way, I respected that.

  Too bad my image of Death was totally wrong. All right, so it was a bit stereotypical but the last thing I expected him to look like was a male model. He was tall and slim, but muscular, dressed in a leather jacket. His features were refined and handsome, his eyes dark and intense. He was a little late finding me. I'd gone home after midnight like a slutty Cinderella and was curled up in bed with a filthy romance novel (too lazy to take off my clothes) when he knocked on my bedroom door. It was obvious it was him straight away.

  He wasn't of this world.

  "It's time Tabitha," he held out his hand, "Come with me."

  I looked him up and down. There was gray steam rising from his feet. A sure sign of these things.

  "Who are you?" I asked. I was playing innocent now. I knew who he was just like a pig instinctively knows to fear a knife. He was inevitable.

  "Death. Obviously. That sign was supposed to fall on you and you know it," he said. I looked him up and down again.

  "I thought you would look different," I said. He folded his arms and leaned against my door frame.

  "That's original. I haven't heard that before. Let me guess? Black cloak and bones? Come on. Make my job easy," he said which was silly. Why would I do that?

  I leaned against my chest of drawers and made sure he got a good view of my body in my tight little corset dress. I was always into the whole goth chic thing, though I wasn't so into the dower attitude that seemed to go with it. My style was Baywatch meets the Addams family -a lot of black, a lot of cleavage and a lot of attitude. It worked for me.

  It looked like it worked for him too. Death's lips parted and his eyes fell to my breasts. I pretended not to notice and picked up my little crucifix.

  "Are you looking at my pendant? My Mom gave it to me when I was little. She said it would keep vampires away, though I guess you're not supposed to say that anymore, right? It's not politically correct."

  His eyes narrowed and he looked at me.

  "You're not scared."

  "No."

  "Why not? I'm Death?" he raised one eyebrow. I smiled at him and took a step forward. I was feeling brave. I put his identity to the back of my mind. He was Death, but the way he looked at me was so human.

  So filled with lust and he desire.

  "Yes. But you're a man too," I said with a whisper, "It's my birthday you know."

  "Is it? I don't have a birthday so I can't say that I care about these things."

  "People get presents on their birthdays," I said. I took another step towards him. We were dangerously close to each other now. He smelled like leather and rain. Death was sexier than any lame guy who would approach me in a club.

  "Do they?" he asked. He was watching me now. Tempting me. Daring me to move closer. He wanted me just as much as I wanted him.

  "Yeah, anything they want," I said with a smile. I let my eyes fall to the bulge between his legs. Fuck. I was right. He was a man first, before he was Death.

  "What do you want?" he asked. I knew he would give to me.

  "I think you know."

  Then he took me by surprise. Death didn't give me a moment to think. He was finished with flirting.

  His hand slid into the back of my head and he brought my mouth close to his.

 
"I'm not what you're used to. I've seen every way it can be done," he said. His breath was hot on my neck.

  "What do you like?" I asked and he grabbed my throat. Gently enough that I could still breathe, though his fingers pressed into my skin just a little too much. He would be rough with me then. That was all right. I loved it.

  "I like making pretty girls like you suffer," he growled, "And you'll love every minute of it."

  Then I was naked and on my knees in front of him. He made me beg for his cock. I'd never done that before but he made it so easy. He had me every way he could think of. Bent over, against the wall, on my back. He fucked me until it hurt and fucked me some more. I loved every second of it.

  Death came for me but he ended up coming on me instead. My tits to be precise. It was the hottest fuck I'd ever had.

  He promised me another year. Then another. He visited me once or twice on days that weren't my birthday. It felt good. Out of all the people he had met I was the one he was addicted to. He told me that on multiple occasions but he particularly liked to say it when my legs were on his shoulders and he was making me scream with every thrust.

  "I'm fucking addicted to you Tabby," he grunted, "Fucking addicted."

  On my twenty-third birthday I was expecting him. I'd dressed for the occasion in black heels, thigh highs, a lace garter belt, and panties. Technically I was wearing a bra, but my breasts were on full display with my nipples pink and hard. My platinum blonde locks fell around my shoulders in bouncy curls. Death should be grateful. I'd gotten a blow out for him.

  The finishing touch was the pretty black collar. It looked like a normal choker to anyone who saw it but it wasn't of this world. It was his symbol.

  I sat in front of the roaring fireplace on my knees, patiently waiting for him to grace me with his presence.

  "Tabby."

  I always heard him before I saw him. I looked up and there was Death, as beautiful as ever in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and perfectly fitted pants. The tie around his neck was undone. It was like he was in the middle of dressing up and he got interrupted.

  "Master," I purred and I could see him bite his lip. He loved that and I loved calling him that. So many people feared him but I didn't. I worshipped him and he loved that.

  "You can get off the floor," he said. His voice was a monotone. He wasn't happy. I shakily got to my feet. My heart was pounding. Didn't he like how I looked? I'd spent such a long time picking out my outfit.

  I saw him inhale sharply at the sight of my breasts and I knew I had made the right choice.

  "Sit down," he said and I obeyed. I sat on his lap, straddling his legs between my thighs. He groaned, "I meant on the couch."

  He held me all the same.

  "You look beautiful," he said, drinking me up, "Your body is amazing."

  "Then why don't you use it?" I whispered and I felt him shiver. He still wanted me. That much was clear. Yet there was something wrong.

  "You have no idea how much I'd like to do that," he said. He gave my ass a restrained little pat. It felt strange. I was more used to him biting it or spanking it until it was red raw.

  "I can't give you another year, Tabby. I just can't," he said. I grabbed his face in my hands.

  "Yes you can," I said, "You want me and I want you. We can't do this anymore if I'm not alive."

  "No, we can't. I'll miss it. But we've dragged this out for as long as we can. You got an extra full two years."

  "Don't you get to decide who lives and who dies?" I said, "How could you do this to me?"

  "Tabby, please. I don't decide that. I just do what I have to do. And I have to take you. It's not that bad, I promise. It won't hurt," he said. I folded my arms and glared at him.

  "Since when was I afraid of pain?" I snapped, "I don't care about that. I just want to live."

  "I know you do. And I want you to live. I shouldn't have let you stay for this long. I've got so many people on my ass about it..." he said. I looked at him.

  "People? Like who?"

  "It doesn't concern you. Important people. People who are higher up than me. They call the shots. I don't."

  "Wow, so you just bend over and let them fuck you in the ass then?" I asked and Death masked a chuckle. All right, Maybe I should not have been so graphic.

  "It's usually you bending over," he said, which was true. Except for anal was a limit of mine. It felt too much like having a stick shoved up there. I didn't argue.

  "There has to be someone who's been escaping death for longer than me. What about vampires? Aren't they the worst offenders? They live forever. Immortality can't good for business," I argued.

  Death nodded and stroked my hair.

  "It's not, but there's nothing we can do about them. They live by different rules to the rest of us. They have their own Death, who I've never met," he said, but he was thinking "It is a good idea. I have three guys in particular who I've been trying to get for years."

  "Then it's settled. Give me the list and I'll bring them to you," I said, getting to my feet, "Then people will get off your ass and I'll have more time to suck your dick."

  He looked at me. His mouth opened and I knew the sight of me in my underwear was too much for him. A second later and my wrists were pinned against the wall, his mouth was on my neck and my body was his for the taking.

  "Such an obedient slut," he growled, rubbing me through my panties. I pushed myself onto the palm of his hand and ground against it, "How can I reward you for being so clever?"

  "Let me live!" I gasped as his hand worked his magic on me. He gave a low growl.

  "What else?"

  "My...my wand!" I groaned.

  Every witch has a magic wand. Only mine was the kind that comes with a big ass cord and three different vibration settings.

  He tied my wrists behind my back and gagged me with my own panties. I could taste myself off of them and the thought only aroused me more.

  "You've got such a beautiful little pussy," Death turned on the wand. The sound of its low buzz filled the room and my body shivered with anticipation.

  He ran it along my breasts and I moaned, though it was muffled by my gag. My nipples were so hard now. I wanted him to touch them,to touch all of me. I wanted to cum more than anything at that moment. Good thing Death never let me down.

  He brought the wand between my legs and I groaned into the fabric in my mouth. Fuck, he knew exactly how to angle it to bring me closer to the edge in seconds. The pleasure built up inside me and I felt myself hanging on for dear life.

  "Are you trying not to cum?" he asked and I nodded my head. It was so difficult that I could feel tears of frustration running down my cheeks. I wanted to cum. I wanted to cum so badly, but I wanted to cum while he was fucking me, "That just won't do."

  I didn't have a say in the end. I gave a muffled scream and the pleasure washed over me like a massive wave hitting the shore. I was surprised I managed to stay standing up.

  Death leaned towards me and whispered in my ear.

  "My turn now."

  Then he was fucking me from behind and thank God I was gagged, because if I wasn't I would scream the house down. He dug his fingers into my hips and slammed into me, each movement more forceful than the last. I came again, my pussy clenching around his long thick cock. He wasn't far behind me.

  He came inside me but that was all right. Death didn't have a habit of getting girls in trouble.

  Not like that.

  A while later and my head rested on his bare chest as the two of us lay in my bed. He didn't usually stay for so long after one of our fuck sessions but I was happy he did.

  "Were you serious?" he asked.

  "Serious about what?"

  "That you would reap the other two guys for me? Because I think that could actually work. You know how to scry, right?" he said. I nodded. I did know how to scry. Just about. It was kind of like saying you spoke French fluently in a job interview when really you just took it for two semesters in college. Still
, I was competent with a crystal ball, "You'll be able to find them then."

  "What do I do when I find them?" I asked. My voice trembled more than I wanted it to. Death kissed to top of my head and stretched out my fingers in front of him. A silver ring manifested on my right hand.

  "You reap them," he said, "You reap them with this."

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tabby

  Scrying wasn't something I did very often though my mortal friends often begged me to do it for them. Truth be told, I wasn't that interested in what other people got up to in their spare time. The few times I'd actually scryed for myself, I'd found out things I would have been happier not knowing. I learned my lesson when I was young and didn't want to learn it again.

  This was different. Witch hunters didn't exactly have business cards. They kept a low profile in their attempt to dodge the law. The bastards.

  That was what this guy was. A witch hunter. Death told me all about him.

  "He should have died about thirty times by now," he said while he slipped his pants back on, "I just haven't been able to pin the bastard down. But I have a feeling that if anyone is going to get Ezra it'll be a witch. How ironic would that be?"

  Ezra Shepard wouldn't just appear at my side if I left the house wearing a tight top and jeans. He wasn't some loser I could find looking for bargains at the supermarket at 5 AM or picking fights with people on public transport. If he had beaten Death he was smart. He wouldn't be found all that easily.

  I got everything I needed for scrying together in the dining room. I placed a tall candle on either side of the table to light my way. I wore a sheer black nightdress, just in case Death felt like visiting me again. In front of me were my scrying tools. A crystal ball, some incense, and sugar-free peach iced tea because I was trying keto again and it was the only vaguely nice drink I could have.

  I took a sip of my iced tea and lit my lighter. It was a purple one studded with diamantes, a gift from one of my friends at my last job during secret Santa. The mystical smoke from the candles began to fill the room and then I could see it swirling within my crystal ball.