Sabin, A Seven Novel by A.M. Hargrove

body—a very large man—but he’s invisible. Then he appears, right before my eyes, and first, I nearly faint from fright. That is right before my legs turn into spaghetti. My brain says RUN . But I want to pinch myself because how can I accept what I just witnessed with my own eyes? Before I can do anything except scream, he clamps his hand over my mouth and binds me with his arms—they’re more like iron straps. I’m incapable of moving except for an inch or so. In a deep, hoarse voice, he tells me he’s here to keep me safe. Safe from what? From him? Like I’m supposed to believe that ? He just turned into the invisible man—no wait! That’s backwards. He was invisible and now he’s visible. Am I going fucking crazy? Did that incident yesterday underwater deprive my brain of oxygen for too long and now am I losing it? When he starts spouting crap about that stupid necklace I found, I realize this dude knows! He knows about those scary things that attacked me in the water. He describes them! Part of me wants to trust him. The woman part of me, because this man is sex on a fucking stick. And then it nails me—that scent rolls off of him . Coupled with his voice, I’m embarrassed to say that I’m wet. How long has it been that this has happened? Well, I’ve never had this happen. But the wet thing? It’s been ages since I’ve had sex, other than the do-it-yourself kind. And I’ve never gotten wet from just smelling a man. What the hell is that all about? My slutty twin has emerged in full force. She’s rolled up her sleeves, unbuttoned her shirt, and is ready to play. Dark, dark eyes. Almost black and freakishly intense. They seem to tunnel all the way through to my soul. When he looks at me I have to remind myself to breathe. And his face. Gah! It’s one women dream about, and that includes the thin scar on his cheek that runs from his left eye to the corner of his mouth. At one point I have to stop myself from grabbing him and licking the thing. That was right before I home in on his mouth. Oh what a mouth it is, too. He has this way of twitching the right corner of it. It makes me want to bite his lower lip. Tug that sucker right into my mouth and suck … hard. His black hair is thick and he wears it like he doesn’t give a damn about it. In fact, he probably doesn’t give a damn about any of his looks. He just is, take him or leave him. But I’d like to take him, hard and all night, if possible. With some chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and a cherry on top, please. Oh, please!
    What the hell, Serena? These men—oh, did I mention another one joined him?—are taking me with them. They say they want to protect me. We’ll see. Honestly though, if they wanted to hurt me, it would be nothing for them to kill me immediately. Snap me in two. They’re huge. At least six feet three or four, I’d say.
    “What’s your name? I would think if you expect me to travel with you, you’d at least mention your name.” There goes my smart mouth.
    The corner of his mouth twitches. “Call me Sabin.”
    “Hmm. Sabin. Is that your name or is that what I just call you?”
    “It’s my name.”
    “First or last?”
    He cocks his head then glares at me. “Both,” he snaps.
    “You trying to mimic Madonna?”
    The other one named Rafe runs interference. “We all only have one name.”
    “‘We all?’ How many of you are there?”
    “Seven.” Rafe answers.
    “Fuck that. Do you mean I have to put up with seven of you?”
    Rafe laughs. “That’s correct.”
    Sinfully sexy Sabin says, “Quit gossiping and finish packing.”
    “It sounds like Mr. McGrumpy over there woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
    “Nah, he’s always like that.”
    Sabin continues to glare at me. It doesn’t change the fact that I still want to see him naked. It’s almost as though I’ve spoken that thought out loud because his eyes momentarily widen and then his lids drop to half-mast. The left corner of his mouth curls and