Hell Bent

by Blaire Valentine

  I waved my hands around and murmured the incantation. I shut my eyes and breathed deeply. When I opened them again his location was plain as day.

  Secrets.

  It was a club. Not just any club. A strip club. The dirty bastard. I would have thought that he would be at some elite meeting for asshole witch hunters in the middle of nowhere, trying to come up with new ways to fuck us all over. Secrets was only across town and it wasn't fancy by any means. It was the kind of place where if a girl was of age and could stand in a vaguely parallel fashion to a pole then she would be hired. If a patron could hold himself up for more than a second he would be allowed inside.

  I didn't know any witch hunters personally and I planned on keeping it that way, but this wasn't what I imagined they would get up to in their spare time. I smirked to myself. This would make a funny story for Death. He wasn't so interested in nudity. He had seen so much of it over the centuries. So many people had died mid-orgy that it wasn't even interesting to him anymore. Ezra was a witch hunter but clearly, he was a man first and he had needs that had to be met.

  I could use that.

  My sheer robe would have been perfect but it wasn't quite politically correct enough to wear in public, even after nine. I compromised myself and threw on a pair of black fur-trimmed heels and a wet look mini dress. My normal clubbing look topped off with a few dozen coats of mascara and some deep red lipstick. Goth Barbie.

  The bouncer at Secrets looked me up and down when he read my ID.

  "Tabby Monroe?" he repeated my name slowly as if it was the weirdest thing he'd ever heard, "Really?"

  "Really."

  "And you work here? I haven't seen you before," he said. I shook my head and gave him my best smile though he was getting on my nerves.

  "No. I'm just a patron," I said. He raised one eyebrow.

  "Really? Usually, when chicks come here it's because they want to keep an eye on their boyfriends. Or stop them spending money," he said, "That wouldn't be you, would it?"

  I shook my head and opened my purse. It was stuffed with notes. My Dad had been pretty good to me lately. He had found God or something in South America and decided that he didn't need so much money anymore. That worked out pretty well for me.

  "See, I'm here to spend money," I said.

  "You're a weird girl, Tabby."

  It wasn't the first time I'd heard that phrase in my life and I didn't mind it. It was true after all and who could argue with the truth.

  The club wasn't as seedy as I thought it would be inside. There was a stage where four girls were performing in various states of undress and disco balls hanging from the ceiling. The light shimmered against the glitter on their bare bodies. They were actually pretty good and they looked sexy as Hell up there. If the guys watching were a little bit hotter I might have tried it myself.

  Apart from the dancers themselves, the place was full of men. Businessmen pouring champagne and talking shop without so much as acknowledging the performance. Guys who were only just legal to get in staring at the girls with their mouths hanging open like they had never seen a pair of titties in real life before. Maybe they hadn't. Middle-aged men trying to flirt with the girls serving at the bar who laughed at their jokes and then looked at their watches. I stood out like a sore thumb but I tried not to let that phase me. Girls went to strip clubs sometimes, right? This was perfectly normal.

  I wandered up to the bar and ran my finger along Death's ring. It was weird to be wearing it. It fit me so well. I'd had a boyfriend in high school who had promised me his class ring, but we broke up before he gave it to me. Was this the closest I'd ever get to having a vanilla relationship like that again? I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

  A beautiful girl wearing a red crop top that showed off a lot of her tanned, slender body smiled at me from behind the bar.

  "Goth spice. I like it. You must be the new girl?" she said. I shook my head.

  "I'm just visiting actually. Can I get a drink?" I asked. The girl seemed a little embarrassed but she didn't say any more. She prepared my whiskey sour as I surveyed the room. Then I spotted him.

  Ezra was sitting alone in front of the main stage with an empty seat on either side of him. He was handsome, with dark hair and stubble and a nice suit but he looked frazzled. As if he hadn't slept in days. He took a sip of his drink and I laughed when I realized he was drinking coffee. Coffee? At a strip club? Who does that?

  I grabbed my whiskey and turned on the charm. Ezra might like paying for girls but he would like getting free attention a lot more, I'd bet. I just had to be typical flirty, charming Tabby and he would love me.

  Ezra didn't love me. In fact, he didn't even like me.

  I took the seat next to him and he temporarily took his eyes off of the dancer and looked at me. His nose wrinkled in disgust and he gave me a scowl before focusing his attention on the naked babe again. There was a long silence where the only sound was the pumping beat of the club music. Then he spoke.

  "I'm not interested," he said through gritted teeth. I hadn't been expecting him to speak like that. His voice was deep and gravely. I could have listened to it all night long if he wasn't a jerk.

  "Excuse me?"

  "I said I'm not interested in you," he said, "I don't buy private dances."

  "Why not?"

  "Because I don't like them. Maybe if you get up there and do a few tricks like her you'll get some money from me," he said. At that moment he stood up and fed the girl a note between her teeth. She took it from him and continued to shake her ass in a way that he seemed to like. I didn't blame him. She had a great body.

  "I'm not a dancer," I said. Ezra looked at me and narrowed his eyes.

  "No. You can barely walk in those stupid heels. You have no rhythm. You don't need to tell me that," he said. He took another slurp of his drink.

  "Is that coffee?" I ask. He sighed and rubbed his temple as if he had a throbbing headache. I'd always expected witch hunters to be jerks but this guy really took the cake. No wonder he had to pay girls to get naked for him, "I said is that coffee?"

  "Jesus!" he snapped, "Do you ever shut up!"

  I did just for a second.

  I studied the guy. Once upon a time, he could have been a model, with that strong jawline and chiseled features. Even under the strobing lights, his sharp green eyes stood out. His body was hard and strong. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair looked like he had been raking his hands through it. Besides that he was perfect.

  At least, physically.

  Ezra groaned again.

  "Stop staring at me! Can't you sit somewhere else?"

  He was the rudest man I'd ever met and I'd worked retail. The way he looked at me with disgust in his eyes was something I wasn't used to. I was cute and I had a nice body. Men usually liked me. What was his issue?

  Oh yeah, he was a witch hunter. He was bound to be a jerk. Out of all of the legitimate careers a person could pursue becoming a witch hunter was disgusting. Witches and warlocks were people too, not just bodies that you could use to get a cheque.

  I stroked the ring on my finger but Ezra didn't seem to notice. He deserved to die. I wondered what he'd done to avoid Death for so long. Death had been cagey about that. I guessed he didn't want me getting ideas.

  "You're rude," I said quietly, but with just enough volume for him to hear it. Ezra rolled his eyes. I had a feeling that a guy like that was used to being called rude. It didn't hurt him. Not that I was expecting it too.

  "And you're annoying," He reached into his wallet and pulled out a five dollar bill, "Here, take this."

  I took the note in my hands and looked at it.

  "What's this for?"

  "It's payment. So you'll leave me alone. Or at least sit over there. If I wanted to talk I would have a wife. And I'm not going to wife a stripper like you," he said. I frowned and tried to give the note back to him but he put up his hands as if I was trying to give him something filthy, "No, It's yours. Just get o
ut of here."

  I stood up and a dancer with purple hair, wearing big hoop earrings and little else came towards me. I looked down at Ezra as I slipped the money into her g string.

  "I'm not a stripper," I said as she moved her body against mine, "I'm a witch."

  That was all it took. I knew that I was taking a risk but so be it. It was genius really. Even a pig like him wouldn't do anything when there were so many witnesses around.

  Lavender played it up with me. She slid her lithe body against mine and turned and wrapped herself around me. The men were watching. They liked the little show because she was getting more and more tips.

  She pressed her lips against mine and I kissed her back, fully aware of Ezra's green eyes taking in my every move. The men liked it. He liked it too.

  Then she pulled away and swayed towards another guy with a handful of hundreds. Good for her. She was a good performer, she deserved it. I wished that I could give her more.

  I locked eyes with Ezra and smiled. It was time to go.

  He was behind me but I pretended not to notice. I also pretended not to notice that I was walking through a dark alleyway when we got outside. He had his chance now. I just hoped he would take it.

  I walked through the alleyway and suddenly he had me pressed against the wall. I screamed but no one took any notice.

  "Shut up!" he snarled, "You were lying, weren't you? You stupid girl. That could get you killed. Just admit you were lying and I'll let you go."

  "I wasn't lying Ezra Shepard," I glared at him.

  "You are too stupid," he pulled away from me, "Where did you hear about me? Who told you."

  I made a point of stroking my ring and I looked at him. He was disgusting. Beautiful and sexy as Hell, but disgusting all the same. How could he be all right with living the kind of lifestyle that he did? I needed to make it hurt too.

  "Death told me."

  The color drained from his face and he looked at my ring. He couldn't see the inscription from where he was but he knew. I wasn't bluffing.

  "He sent you?"

  "He did."

  Then I did something stupid. I charged toward him with my hands flying, ready to take him straight to Hell or wherever fuckers like him went after they finally died. I heard a clunking sound.

  Fuck.

  My ring. It was gone. He saw the panic in my eyes and he pushed me out of the way. He dove on to the ground to search for the ring and I dove right after him. If he found it before I did then I would be toast. This guy didn't give a shit. I was another witch to him. My body would probably pay his rent for the month. I couldn't let that happen, I just couldn't. I was still young and full of life. This guy already acted like he was dead. I had to find the ring and fast.

  I felt around on the ground as Ezra did the same. I hoped he had shitty eyesight.

  Then a pair of massive shoes appeared in front of me.

  I looked up to see the man who was wearing them.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Tabby

  I found myself at the feet of a man who could barely stand. A big man, older than me and made out of pure muscle. Maybe he was in the army or the navy or something. He was huge and my heart dropped into my stomach the moment I saw his terrifying pink face.

  "Hey sweetheart," he said and I could hear Ezra cursing to himself in the background. I was frozen to the spot. My fight or flight radar was going haywire but I couldn't move. I just couldn't. He could crush me like a bug.

  He wasn't a good guy.

  I didn't speak. He frowned.

  "You can talk you know. But I kind of like you on your knees like that. Are you a dancer honey? How would you like to do some dancing back at my place?" he said. My mouth was dry. I shook my head.

  "No thank you."

  "What?" he snapped. I didn't speak. I didn't have to. Ezra spoke for me. He got to his feet and narrowed his eyes at this beast of a man.

  "She said no," His voice was low but powerful. Something told me this huge man wasn't used to being challenged. He lunged forward. He was bigger than Ezra and stronger, but Ezra was quick and smart. In a moment he had the guy on the ground groaning and moaning to be let go.

  "Scram," he said and the guy did just that. Not without calling me a frigid bitch first, but it was all right. I was safe.

  I looked at Ezra. I was speechless.

  He tossed the ring to me.

  "Why are you giving that back?" I asked and he shrugged. For the first time since I'd met him, I saw a hint of a smile on those rugged features.

  "You won't kill me," he said. I wanted to argue but I wasn't sure that he was wrong. He had just saved my life. How could I kill him?

  I would have to kill someone if I wanted to live.

  "I might," I said. It was a lie.

  He shrugged.

  "I'm going home now. Alone, so don't even think about it."

  We ended up going back to his place, obviously. Ezra lived in a nice apartment complex a few blocks over. It wasn't fancy, but it didn't have teenagers peeing in the elevator or people shooting up on the staircase. It was nice. The kind of place a normal person lived. Not a witch hunter.

  Ezra's place was on the top floor.

  "The penthouse," I said and he didn't quite laugh, but he seemed amused. He stood as far away from me as possible in the elevator and just looked at me with his arms folded. It made me feel so uncomfortable. He wasn't afraid of eye contact but I was.

  His apartment was cleaner than I expected and slightly Spartan. He had nice, modern furniture and nice walls and floors but he didn't seem to decorate the place at all. It looked like it was straight out of a magazine. Nice, but no personality.

  He threw on the coffee pot.

  "Do you drink coffee?" he asked. It was weird. I wasn't sure if he was asking me or talking to himself. He didn't look at me.

  "Not really. I'm more of a tea gal."

  "You'll drink coffee tonight," he said. He poured me a cup and didn't offer me any cream or sugar. I felt stupid asking so I just took it as it was. This guy was so unnerving it made me feel sick.

  I saw the mug he gave me and I laughed. It had a picture of a Dachshund wearing sunglasses on it and it said 'hot dog'. It wasn't that funny but it seemed so ridiculous that this cup was from Ezra's house that I had to laugh.

  He frowned as he drank his own coffee from a plain blue mug.

  "That's not mine," he said.

  "Whose is it?" I asked but he didn't answer.

  He didn't speak for a while and when he did it was just as kind and encouraging as I expected him to be.

  "You're not a very good witch, are you?" he said. I choked down a sip of the vile stuff. It was so bitter I didn't know how he could drink it with a straight face.

  "Hey!" I snapped, "You don't know shit about me."

  "That's true. That's how I know you're not a good witch. I would have heard of you. I doubt there's even a reward for you," he said.

  "I bet there is a reward," I said, but he was probably right. He chuckled, reading my mind. It was infuriating how arrogant he was.

  "Yeah, maybe a bag of candy or something. But I'm looking for money," he said, "You got any relatives I might be interested in?"

  "No. I'm an only child and my mother is dead and my father is out of the country," I said. Ezra nodded.

  "Ah. Sorry for your loss."

  "You're not sorry."

  "Not really, no," he said, "no offense but one less witch is a good thing even if I didn't get the reward for them."

  "What's your deal with witches? You're so behind the times. We're pretty much mainstream now," I said.

  Ezra took a long time to answer. So long that I thought he wasn't going to say anything. When he did speak he spoke carefully.

  "I think there would be a lot less suffering if you weren't around," he said. I rolled my eyes.

  "What did witches ever do to you?" I asked. Ezra sighed and got to his feet.

  "I don't know why I invited you back here," he
said with a scowl, "You were annoying in the club and you're annoying now."

  "Gee, thanks," I said.

  I got up to leave but suddenly my front was pressed against the wall. I could feel him hard against me, pressing into my ass.

  I gasped as he pawed at my breasts just roughly enough for it to hurt.

  "Tell me to open that door right now and you can go home," he said and I knew I should, but I couldn't. I was too enraptured by him. He even smelled like sex. At that moment I just needed him. It turned me on to think that even though he couldn't stand me that he wanted me enough to lose control.

  He waited a second and I could feel him smiling against my ear.

  "I knew you wouldn't," he said and before I knew it he'd pulled down my dress enough to expose my breasts. He spun me around so my back was against the wall and got to his knees in front of me. I moaned as he bit and sucked my breasts like he hadn't had a woman in years. He played with me like a man who'd just gotten out of prison and was desperate for release.

  I loved how it felt. I loved how it hurt. I groaned and arched my back against the wall when he bit my nipple and sucked on it. He smirked at the effect he was having on me. I'd be disgusted with myself later but in the moment I didn't care. He was sexy and I was worked up and I needed to cum now and think later.

  "How do you like it, Barbie?" he asked as he pulled up my dress. I was wearing a skimpy little thong underneath, not unlike what the strippers had been wearing. He liked the way it looked. That much was obvious.

  He didn't have the patience to slip it off. He ripped it off me instead. I was totally exposed to him now, apart from the dress covering my midsection and my high heels.

  His hand slipped between my legs and his fingers teased my pussy. He was rough around the edges that was for sure, but fuck he knew what he was doing. He rubbed and teased me until I was practically dripping wet and craving his cock.

  He picked up speed and my knees began to buckle. I could see myself approaching orgasm and quick.

  He smirked and stopped just as I was reaching the crucial point. I groaned in frustration and he laughed.