Heroes and a Hellhound: Book One

by Eleanor Rousseau

  Now there were far more options open to me, but I didn’t let myself linger on any of these thoughts.

  In the moment I just relaxed, tasting the salt on the breeze and listening to the soft crash of the waves on the shore. Pete nuzzled my hand and I obligingly petted his soft fur. Even the dumb creature was uncharacteristically subdued. Perhaps there was something to the theory of a familiar having an internal connection to their person.

  “What about you, Nevaeh, know any ghost stories?” Juliette asked, the use of my name catching my attention.

  I grinned and glanced at Terra, she smiled back knowingly. Horror stories were a dime a dozen down in Hell, and yes, there were technically spirits but, for the most part, they had corporeal form down there. However, when one talked about a ‘Ghost’ in the Underworld there were usually referring to one person. “I know one. There are rumours down in Hell of a hound who is neither fully alive nor fully dead.”

  “How is that possible? Hounds are immortal,” Rosa pointed out.

  I nodded slightly. “We are, but we are vulnerable in our youth before the blood lust kicks in and our power settles. This hound was fated to have died in the womb, alongside her mother. However, her demonic father was rather sentimental and he stepped in to save her. This was very unusual. Typically demons impregnate humans and then bugger off until the hound comes into their power and is of use to the demon.

  “She was never given a human name but, due to her pale skin and white hair, all those who knew of her called her Ghost. She was taken by her father to be raised in Hell, where he thought he could protect and raise her. But, after only a few years, her father disappeared. He was a powerful demon, one who many feared and respected, but no one ever learned what became of him.”

  And not for lack of trying. I’d been enduring my own torment when I’d been trapped there, but one could only sustain terror for so long before wanting to pursue other things. I’d spoken to a number of creatures who knew of Ghost. Some feared her, although I’d got the sense it was more her father’s unusual affection for her that made them wary. And that was no small feat, especially for a demon who was considered missing and likely dead.

  “Poor little Ghost, barely old enough to talk, was left in the hands of the worst monsters imaginable. Now, you may think you know monsters, but you truly can’t imagine. These people punish the damned, and they do it for centuries; some truly are masters of their craft, coming up with new and inventive ways to torture those who have passed. I’m pretty sure she would have soon been eaten if her father wasn’t so respected, and feared.”

  “They’d have eaten a baby?” Dee asked, scrunching up her nose.

  “Oh yeah, some of those beasties would eat anything that’s fleshy.” Pete whined softly and pressed his nose against my palm. “Yeah, buddy, they’d eat you, too. Anyway, as you can imagine, this wasn’t the type of crowd to be real respectful-like, which might give you some idea of how powerful this chick’s father was.

  “We Hounds are not all equal in power. Being fireproof is fairly standard, but if your demonic parent is weak, you’ll still feel the heat, not to mention you won’t have the control over fire that some of us have. With weaknesses like that, you’re also more likely to succumb to the blood lust and become someone’s pet as a result. My demon daddy must be pretty strong; that’s why I heal so fast and why I can also control shadows, a gift that really isn’t that common. But I can guarantee you that if I’d been in Ghost’s position, I’d have been dead within an hour.

  “What I’m saying is that, compared to her father, mine has about as much power as a week-old kitten. So, from what I’ve heard, she has my whole bag of tricks and a hell of a lot more. Pun intended. The point is, she’s a badass motherfucker. All that time in Hell would have made anyone else insane, although some do speculate that she’s not entirely sane.”

  Terra glanced at me. “Wasn’t it true people thought she was going to take your title?”

  “I heard that too, but part of me thinks that was the demons just trying to freak me out. She never challenged me and, if she had, I would have handed the damn thing over and run the other way. I don’t need that shit. I don’t think it was true; she was Ghost, she didn’t need any other title.”

  “So this chick was like the hellhound equivalent of the boogeyman?” asked Jason.

  I nodded. “Oh, yeah.”

  “What’s the deal with this title?” asked Rosa.

  I frowned, it wasn’t really relevant to the story but there was no harm in explaining. “In Hell, there are five rivers. There’s an area where Phlegethon loops back on itself—don’t think about it too hard, the rules of physics don’t apply in Hell. Anyway, in the middle of the loop, someone thought it would be a swell idea to set up an arena.”

  “Like a gladiatorial arena?” asked Juliette.

  “No ‘like’ about it, it was a gladiatorial arena. If violence isn’t involved, the folks down there just don’t typically take an interest. The deal was that if you could make it across the river unscathed, you’d be given the chance to battle it out.”

  “What was so hard about getting across the river?” asked Jason.

  “The river’s on fire,” I explained. “It’s like that game ‘the floor is lava’ except the floor is a river and the lava’s made of Hellfire. I could handle the Hellfire lava but that shit moved like water, and if you didn’t burn to death, the currents could drag you under and you would either die or be swept away from the loop.

  “Anyway, every millennium or so they have a tournament. All survivors of previous battles within the ring get the chance to fight for the Black Diamond. It’s both a title and a literal black diamond. At the time the tournament came around, I’d decided it would be a fun way to commit suicide. Didn’t quite turn out that way though.”

  “That’s a little heavy, Neva,” warned Terra.

  I glanced at her before nodding my agreement. “What I’m getting at is that she was one scary son of a bitch. She was like the boogeyman of the Underworld. The demons would tell their young that if they screwed up the Ghost might hunt them down and disembowel them, feeding off their entrails.”

  “That shit’s messed up,” Rosa commented.

  “That shit is messed up,” I agreed. Perhaps the grim subject should have put a dent in my mood but I was with friends, lying on a beach, completely free to do as I pleased. If Pete’s drool couldn’t irritate me, then talk of death and destruction certainly wouldn’t. I patted the idiot dog’s head and he wagged his tail contentedly.

  I smiled.

  9

  9 - Bar fight

  Nevaeh -

  I prowled into the club wearing tight black jeans and an equally tight black top. It had long sleeves, but showed a generous amount of breast. I was hoping that the glimpse of the goods would keep anyone from noticing how out of place my shoes looked. The foolish women were walking around in heels that made their feet arch in unnatural ways, and positioned their posterior in a way that subliminally conveyed that they were ready for mating.

  I didn’t know that because I was a hellhound, creatures sometimes thought to be animalistic in nature. I knew it because I’d Googled the subject. I could see the value in them, but it didn’t seem worth the pain, and I wasn’t here looking for a male. Well, that wasn’t true, but I didn’t want to have sex with him. I wanted to tear out his throat with my teeth and then pour salt into the wound, then maybe set him on fire.

  I liked fire.

  But there were rules about setting public places on fire. I knew this because Jason had written up a list of rules and put them on the blood fridge at the base. He hadn’t put one on the food fridge so I got the feeling that maybe it was a pointed message, but I could be paranoid. Rule three was ‘Don’t set public places on fire’. Above that was Rule two, ‘Don’t set people on fire’.

  The latter felt a little too general, as if there would never be a situation where I needed to set someone on fire. What if the Multiverse was threate
ning to collapse unless I set a guy on fire, just a little? I chose to view his rules as more like general guidelines.

  I was sure there would be exceptions.

  I finally made my way to the bar, pretending that the noise level wasn’t playing havoc on my senses. “What can I get you?” the bartender asked, speaking loudly to be heard over the music.

  “Um, club soda,” I called back, trying not to wince as the song changed. Maybe they called this dance music because the music was designed to infect you with its sheer volume, so you’d be writhing in pain. It certainly looked like the people on the dance floor were in pain. If there was less grinding of crotches, I might have thought they were being tortured by some evil puppet master.

  The barman gave me my drink and I gave him money before turning back to survey the club. With the amount of alcohol these people were consuming, it would probably be really easy to set them on fire… not that I would.

  I took a sip of my drink, then almost spit it out. Club soda was sparkling water? What the fuck! Why on earth do people order that shit in movies? It’s not water and it’s not soda. It’s some kind of vile hybrid which had no business even existing.

  I should have ordered a Coke. That’s what I get for trying something new. Only humanity could find a way to ruin water. Carefully setting the glass back on the bar, I focused on my true purpose for being there.

  I didn’t understand the appeal of clubs such as these. Why want to be in such close proximity to so many humans? Especially when some of those humans felt they had a right to lay their hands on you. Of course, physical contact was practically unavoidable. I knew this because I tried very hard to avoid it.

  I prowled towards the raised section at the back of the club where people with sticks up their butts liked to lounge. Ignoring the burly man by the stairs I headed up, glancing around until I noticed a familiar face.

  “There you are, you trashy fuck-weasel,” I greeted.

  She quirked an eyebrow at me. “As eloquent as ever, I see, little bitch.”

  “Now, now, you keep using big words and insults and you might give me a complex.”

  “One bigger than what you already have?”

  “I see you’ve developed a sense of humour since leaving Hell. I’d say you’re showing signs of personal growth, but you still dress like a whore who’s twenty years younger than you look.”

  Her eyes flashed with fury, not helped by the fact that her companion was looking me over with interest. He was too doped up on something to notice her reaction, or perhaps he was missing his soul.

  “And what exactly is your look, 90’s grunge?”

  “Ooh, sick burn, I’m all torn up,” I assured her. “Now, why don’t you tell me where Wrath is lurking and then go back to Hell.”

  “Sure, I’ll tell you exactly where he is. I’m sure he’ll be happy for you to join him, he loves attention,” she murmured bitterly. Although, now I thought about it, everything she said sounded bitter.

  I rocked forward on my heels. “He won’t love the type of attention I intend to give him. I’ll give you a hint: It rhymes with castration.”

  She glared at me. “Then maybe I won’t tell you. You’d understand if you’d seen his package. But then again, maybe you have… Didn’t he keep you as his pet for a few years?” Her eyes were lit with malice but her smile only served to reveal more wrinkles on her face.

  She had the appearance of someone in their mid-forties who thought they were still in their twenties. The result was unappealing and therefore suited her quite well. “I was never his pet!” I snarled, flashing my fangs at her. “He trapped me in Hell, but he could not control me any more than you can pull off that shade of lipstick.”

  She leapt to her feet, shoving her stoner boy-toy away. “Clearly he was mistaken in his belief that it would be enough to break your mind. He was always foolish; breaking the body is so much more fun.” She looked me over, her eyes sparkling with manic glee.

  “Oh, wow, look, I’m very flattered but I feel I need to make it clear that I don’t date women,” I said, feigning embarrassment.

  She glared at me in response.

  I grinned. “No, wait, I didn’t mean women, I meant ‘ugly old hags’. Easy mistake.”

  Her eyes spat fire, though not literally. You’d be surprised by how few demons actually had an affinity for fire. “You bitch!” She lunged at me.

  I danced back. “Ooh, she’s got the temperament of a two-year-old but the vocabulary of a seven-year-old. I see you’ve matured.”

  She screeched in a way that was pretty comical. “It’s far past time you learn your place, hound!”

  “Oh, and where might that be, beneath your cheap, knockoff heels?”

  “Aah!” She grabbed a table and tossed it at me as if it weighed nothing.

  I dropped to the floor, narrowly avoiding being decapitated. “Hey, brainless fuckwiener, work on your aim.”

  She screamed again and began to tear up the place in what was undoubtedly a world-class temper tantrum. “Bitch!” she screeched.

  “Tell me where he is and I’ll leave you alone,” I promised, ducking and weaving to avoid flying projectiles.

  “I want you to die!”

  She was the very definition of uncooperative. I was reaching the end of my patience. Dodging a couple of glasses that were headed my way, I lunged for her, slapping my shoulder into her abdomen and causing her to go crashing into the barrier to the main floor.

  The landing sent pain shooting from my shoulder down my arm but, luckily, Envy had cushioned my fall. She screeched again as I pushed to my feet. The main floor was mostly empty now, people had started evacuating the moment Envy had started throwing shit around.

  I stomped on her face, hearing a satisfying crunch. As it turned out, it really wasn’t that hard to subdue her. She fought how she behaved—like a whiny little bitch. She was pretty much a goner the moment I broke her jaw.

  That was probably the wrong move; after all, I needed her to talk. I planted my feet on either side of her, stepping on her forearms with the toes of my boots to keep her pinned. Reaching down, I managed to shove her jaw back into place long enough for it to start healing.

  “This ends when you tell me where I can find Wrath.”

  She glared up at me. “You’ll never defeat him, you may not be brimming with Envy the way most people are, but you’ve clearly got plenty of emotions for him to sample. He’ll beat you with your own power.” She cackled, the sound of it and her words slightly strained from her injury.

  “Alright, we are about to find out if those breasts are real, or if they’ll burst and turn out to be as saggy as your ass.” I pulled out a dagger and aimed it at her breasts.

  Her eyes widened, showing fear for the first time. “No! Fine, I’ll talk. Do you have any fucking idea how hard it is for a demon to get implants?” she snarled.

  Ha. Totally called it! I imagined that she was right; after all, how could you explain the accelerated healing to a doctor? She must have paid a pretty penny, and then probably killed the doctor afterwards so he couldn’t talk. Vanity must suck.

  “Alright, where can I find Wrath?”

  “There’s some event coming up, an office party or something. He’s been working on the people for weeks and that’s when he plans to tip them over the edge.”

  “Address?”

  She gave me the address, time and date, all of which I typed into my phone, as my memory was shit.

  I nodded. “Cheers.”

  “You’ll let me go now, right? You said you’d let me go.”

  I shrugged. “Sure.” I brought up my foot again and slammed it down onto her skull. She was out like a light and, if she’d been mortal, she would also have been dead. I pulled out a lighter, flicking it on before dropping it onto her body. She was immortal. There was a chance that she’d survive being burnt to death, but it was the best I could do.

  I walked away as the fire really began to take hold.

  “Shit,”
I muttered when I saw who was sitting in my path.

  Pete cocked his head, staring judgmentally at me.

  “What? She’s free to go,” I said defensively. He didn’t move. “She’s a demon, Peter, she was probably planning to kill everyone in this bar.” That was a lie; if everyone was dead, then she couldn’t feed from them. He didn’t seem any more convinced.

  “You know what? Fuck you, I told you to stay in the car.” I stormed past him and out of the bar. The judgemental son of a bitch soon caught up to me, walking at my heels. “You shouldn’t have come in. You know mortals get emotional around you. You could have given her more to feed on.”

  He panted happily.

  “Don’t be smug; if you weren’t cute, you’d be totally useless.” We reached the car and I glanced from it to Pete, trying to work out how he had gotten out when all the doors were still closed and locked. I soon gave up and clicked open the locks before holding the passenger door open.

  I was just climbing into the driver’s seat when he leaned over to lick my cheek.

  I suppressed a smile. “Dumb fucking dog.”

  10

  10 - Blackout

  Nevaeh -

  Humans are gross. They might seem nice and clean in the light of day but then they do something stupid like get roaring blackout drunk. Then they get all handsy and they reek of alcohol, and sometimes they even vomit. It’s disgusting. That’s why, most days, I thank my lucky stars that I’m a hellhound. Even if I wanted to, it would be virtually impossible for me to get drunk off of human liquor.

  Unfortunately, the bottle Terra had handed me the previous evening hadn’t contained human liquor. It had been straight outta Hell, literally. Although I’d soon realised the drink was having an effect on me I hadn’t stopped drinking because it had been Zo’s birthday, and I was honour bound to participate in the festivities. However, that didn’t mean I was completely without regrets.