Page 3 of Reluctant Rebel

“You bet,” Sabre replied. She bent over, tugging Cronos’s jacket off him. “Here …” She held out the black material to Jinx. “I know it has vampire cooties, but it’s better than nothing.”

Jinx took the jacket, gratefully slipping it over her bare shoulders. It was long, and she was short, so it covered her to mid-thigh. “You’re really going to kill Weka?”

“I really am,” Sabre confirmed merrily.

“And Asmodeus?” Jinx held her breath, not daring to believe it.

“If you want me to,” Sabre replied easily.

Jinx shook her head, not understanding. “Why does what I want matter? Why do you care?”

Sabre shrugged and glanced away. She looked uncomfortable as hell. “Beats me, kid. I have no fucking clue.” Then she met Jinx’s gaze squarely. “But Idocare. So, you wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Before Jinx could say anything else, Sabre strode purposefully across the room, expertly dodging the fornicating bodies in her path. Wide-eyed, Jinx remained locked in place. Nothing happened for a couple of minutes. But then Jinx’s ears picked up a series of bangs, glass breaking, and heavy thuds.

A familiar roar met her ears, and she cringed. The sound of an angry Asmodeus was very much the same as a pleasure-filled Asmodeus. Jinx would recognise it anywhere. This meant Sabre was either fucking the lust demon, or she was pissing him off. She wanted to believe that it was the latter, but she was afraid to.

When a headless body was propelled through the black curtains a moment later, people started running. The dregs of society who frequented the brothel fled like the cowards they were the moment violence of the non-sexual variety broke out. Slaves like herself were not free to do so. The collars prevented it, and they huddled together in a corner. An electric shock would be administered the moment they crossed the threshold of the pleasure house. And it wasn’t a small shock. It was one designed to render the victim unconscious.

Weka’s head tumbled from the back rooms before Sabre emerged, dragging a banged-up Asmodeus with her. Jinx’s hand flew to her chest, where she could feel the rapid pounding of her heart. Was Sabre truly going to kill the lust demon?

“How dare you come into my establishment and kill my patrons!” Asmodeus roared, tugging against Sabre's sure grip. “I’m a friend of Carlisle’s. Wait until he hears about this!”

Sabre rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised that you’re chums with a piece of shit incubus?” She leaned in close to hisface and smirked. “Oh, and spoiler alert, your patrons aren’t the only ones I intend to kill. Now, how do they get the collars off?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Asmodeus yelled. “Release me!”

“I’m not releasing you untilyoureleasethem,” Sabre informed the lust demon, gesturing to the eight collared slaves wrapped around each other, wide-eyed. “Tell me how to get the collars off.”

“They don’t come off,” Asmodeus snarled. He turned his head, spitting in Jinx’s direction. “They get buried in them when they’re dead.”

Sabre tsked, back-handing Asmodeus and sending him to the floor. “I’m going to show you all the ways how that is thewronganswer, fuck-face.”

It didn’t take long. Perhaps one minute in total and the removal of an ear for Asmodeus to explain the locking mechanism—a combination of magic and technology—to Sabre. Another two minutes and the woman successfully removed the collars of the eight sex slaves watching the show avidly. With Asmodeus crying in a puddle of his own urine, Jinx held her breath as Sabre walked towards her. She thought she might pass out until the other woman reminded her to breathe.

Jinx sucked in a startled breath and stumbled as the cursed collar clicked, opened, and fell away. Only Sabre's strength kept her upright, the other woman taking a firm grip on her forearms.

“Easy,” Sabre said quietly.

Jinx gave Sabre her weight for a heartbeat before she pulled herself upright, breathing free air. “Thank you,” she whispered. It was the best she had to offer in her shocked state.

“No problem,” Sabre replied blithely, as if she hadn’t just performed a miracle. She gestured to Asmodeus. “Do you want to do it?”

“Wha-what?” Jinx stuttered.

“Kill him,” Sabre explained, holding out a wicked-looking blade. “Do you want the honours?”

“I …” Jinx edged closer to the demon. He was responsible for selling her to the highest bidder daily. He was the demon who forced himself on her and stole her innocence when she was just thirteen years old. And here Sabre was, asking her if she wanted to kill him with her own hands. “I want to rip him to shreds,” she snarled.

And with that, her tiger woke up. She heard the satisfied rumble of her soul animal as it took in the scent of blood that filled the air and the dagger in Sabre’s hand. Vengeance was finally within their grasp.

Sabre chuckled darkly. “Excellent. Here you go.”

Jinx took the weapon from Sabre’s outstretched hand and tested its weight. It was surprisingly light. She stalked towards Asmodeus, a low growl falling from her lips. He opened his mouth, but she didn’t want to hear it. She never wanted to listen to him speak, call her names, or give her orders again. She kicked him in the chest, sending him to his back. The adrenaline pumping through her system and her newly awakened tiger gave her strength in her malnourished state.

She pounced on him, pinning him in place with the blade to his throat and her slight body weight. His green eyes were wide and sweat dripped down his forehead. Beneath the surface, her tiger hissed, opening its mouth to better scent Asmodeus’s terror. The dagger pierced his flesh, red blood bubbling quickly to the surface. Jinx watched it roll down his neck, and she pressed harder. More blood flowed, even as her hand began to shake.

At first, when her vision blurred, she didn’t understand why. It wasn’t until Sabre gently took the blade into her own hands, encouraging Jinx to move away, that she realised she was crying. Scrubbing furiously at her wet cheeks, Jinx knew why. Shecouldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill him. And it made her feel like a failure. Asmodeus deserved to die. She had pictured doing it countless times. Yet here she was with a literal knife in her hand, and she couldn’t do it.

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