Page 2 of Reluctant Rebel

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the woman said dangerously. She leaned closer to Cronos, whispering, “I told you I’d snap you, Cupcake. You don’t want me to show you how. Trust me.”

The woman released his fist, turning to Jinx once again. “How old are you?”

“She’s a slave. Unless you’re paying for her, she doesn’t speak,” Cronos grumbled, clutching his hand to his chest.

“Shut the fuck up!” the woman roared abruptly, making Cronos jump and hiss. “I wasn’t talking to you.” Her fierce expression gentled a bit as she looked at Jinx. “How old are you?” she repeated.

Jinx didn’t need to look at Cronos to see the combination of fury and caution on his face. She could sense it. Instead, she cleared her throat before answering, “Fifteen.”

When mauve eyes flicked to the collar around Jinx’s throat, she ducked her head, doing her best to hide the offending piece of metal that declared to the world exactly what she was. Even if she wanted to pretend that she wasn’t a commodity, she couldn’t. The collar wouldn’t let her.

Above her, Cronos chuckled, leaning down and leering grotesquely at her exposed body. “We like ‘em young here,” he boasted. “Supple flesh, you know?”

Jinx didn’t see exactly what happened—the woman’s hand whipped out too fast—she only saw the result. And that was Cronos falling to the floor, eyes and mouth opened wide in shock. And in death.

Jinx blinked and then blinked again, her eyes trying to convince her brain what they were seeing. “He’s dead,” she said hollowly.

“Fucker was pissing me off,” the woman muttered, running her hands through her short hair. “I was more patient with him than he deserved. Now, what’s your name?”

Jinx shook her head, staring at the vampire's body. She felt delightfully numb. “I don’t have one here,” she murmured.

Leather creaked as the woman squatted down. A slender hand reached out, gently grasping her by the chin. Jinx trembled a little but didn’t pull away.

“Do me a favour; pretend you’renothere. What would your name be then?”

The dead body next to her and the warmth of the hand holding her chin in a gentle grip galvanised her to respond truthfully. “Jinx.”

“Jinx,” the woman repeated, a small smile gracing her lips. “I like it. I’m Sabre.”

Jinx remained silent. She had no idea what she was supposed to say. She wasn’t used to people asking her questions or introducing themselves. She also had no idea what was going on. Cronos was dead, she was stark naked, and a random woman in leather was talking to her like they were best friends.

“Now, you said Weka was behind those curtains. Is that the truth?” Sabre asked, dropping her hand but remaining on her haunches before Jinx.

Jinx was silent for a moment, looking around to find that no one had noticed a dead vampire lying on the floor of the brothel. But then, drugs and sex were good distractions. “Yes. It’s the truth.”

Sabre hummed. “Will he be alone?”

Jinx shook her head. “He’ll be with a handful of sex slaves and prostitutes. My Master is also back there. There are private rooms for scenes, but Asmodeus watches most of them.”

“Asmodeus. Lust demon. Looks like he just walked off the cover of a fashion magazine, but is as filthy as they come?” Sabre questioned quickly.

Jinx snorted. Sabre nailed Asmodeus with that description. “That’s him.”

“He’s your owner?” Sabre pressed.

Jinx’s jaw clenched, and she gave a brief nod, unable to say the words out loud.

“I see,” Sabre said.

Jinx had no idea what the woman ‘saw’, and she didn’t have time to wonder because Sabre was dragging her to her feet in the next instant. Jinx stumbled a little; her feet were all tingly from the blood rushing back to them after so long kneeling.

“You see what I did to Cupcake here?” Sabre asked, kicking Cronos’s body with her black boot. “I intend to do the same to Weka, only much slower. I can throw in Asmodeus, too. On the house.”

“What?” Jinx questioned in confusion.

“I’m an assassin, Jinx. I was paid to kill Weka. But I’m inclined to do you a solid. Pro bono,” Sabre explained.

Jinx sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re an assassin?”

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