Entering Hell's Time Out Zone, Lucifer broke through the wall of Hounds and Angels to get to Asher.
"Step aside," Lucifer elbowed his way over to the cell door and popped it open.
Asher was on the ceiling, clawing at the stone like a dog unearthing a bone. Blood poured down his eyes and dripped off his chin. "Make it stop. Make it stop."
"Asher!" Lucifer used his most authoritative voice. "Get down. Now." He used his power of influence and cringed when he felt a pang of pain for it. "Asher. Listen to my voice. Climb down."
Lucifer owned his Hell Hounds now. Not just their souls, but every fucking thing about them. He could force them to eat cat shit if he wanted to and they wouldn't be able to fight back. Not that he would ever abuse his power like that. "Asher. Down."
The Hell Hound rocked a serious case of the tremors. Keeping his eyes on his maker, Asher crept across the ceiling and down the wall. On all floors, he made his way over and dropped his head to the ground by Lucifer's boots. "Make it stop, sire. Make it stop."
"Make what stop?"
Asher's face twisted in pain, his limbs and head shook as he looked up at Satan again. "The screaming. I can't save them. I can't save any of them. They keep screaming. The dead keep screaming!" Asher started slamming his head into the ground over and over again, begging someone to make it stop.
Lucifer snatched Asher by the hair and yanked him away before he could bust his head open more. Like he didn’t feel pain at all, Asher tugged out of Lucifer’s grip and the Hound's hair ripped right out and dangled in Lucifer's fierce grip. Then Asher bashed his head one more time against the floor and fractured his skull. Blood gushed from the wound. Asher’s pack kept barking for him to stop. Everyone broke out into a frenzy.
Lucifer roared, "SILENCE!" the same time he ripped Asher off the ground. "Constantine, a little help here."
Constantine ducked into the cell and placed his hands on Asher's neck and gently squeezed. The Angel’s wings flared out and his skin started to glow a little. With a gasp, he stumbled back, "Fuck, I can't penetrate him."
"The world," Asher whispered, "the world will know now. The world will know."
"About what?" Lucifer's heart hammered.
Asher passed out.
“God damnit,” Lucifer snarled, “Lay him on his side so he doesn’t drown in blood or puke or whatever else might come out of him next.”
“Look,” Constantine ripped the back of Asher’s shirt away. Black ribbons curled over the Hound’s spine, spreading out like wings across his entire back.
Oh shit.
Chapter 8
Tilly had to be carried back into the house. Yup, and you can just imagine how Drake beamed with pride. She wanted to slap that grin off his face, but she couldn't. He totally earned bragging rights.
"You're gloating already," she purred.
"Haven't even started, Goldilocks." The sun shined blindingly bright and there was a beautiful, lovely breeze. "Happy Death Day, by the way."
"This is a good day," she nuzzled Drake’s neck as he carried her inside.
Drake walked into the back of the house and looked around. "Where the hell is everyone?"
Tilly’s ears perked up. Her sense of hearing was off the charts now. Drake's heartbeat pounded like a bass drum against her ear. The whirl of the refrigerator sounded like it was about to take off into outer space. The birds tweeting in the woods might as well have been a symphony with a full chorus. And the slapping of a—
"Put me down, D."
Drake carefully placed her down and Tilly took a second to memorize this moment. Drake’s hair was a mess. Instead of its perfect slicked back style, it was all over the place and hung in his eyes. Every inch of his perfect body was hard but relaxed. His pants were unzipped and open enough to see a dark splash of hair. His hands weren’t balled into fists like usual, either.
He arched an eyebrow at her, “What?”
“Nothing,” she smiled. “Just admiring the view.”
Drake rolled his eyes but his smile got even bigger. “Go on,” he tapped her ass lightly, “Go find the rest of your pack, woman."
Tilly’s legs wobbled and there was a nice little burn between her thighs. Drake stayed close behind her and she knew it was to catch her if she fell down.
Damn her body was like a rag doll today.
"You'll get stronger, don't worry." Drake's reassurance rippled down her spine. Becoming a Hell Hound wasn't as natural as you'd think. It was like being born again. Her veins pumped fizzy energy into her system. Everything had a thin halo around it. That lady bug over on the window screen made a fuss so loud it might as well have been a car engine revving. The soles of Tilly’s feet were sensitive enough to feel every fiber of the carpet that was still on the floor. Her hair stood on end, too. And her skin felt on fire.
Tilly tilted her head, closed her eyes, and inhaled.
"Bishop." She could smell him. No... She could smell his lust. And holy hell did it smell dynamite.
Tilly would have taken off at a dead run if her legs worked right. It should have taken her three seconds to find him, instead, it was about a minute and a half before she reached his bedroom door.
Damn those steps!
She didn't knock. In her lust-filled haze, she almost busted down the door to get to her Hound Dog. Stepping into Bishop’s room, Tilly’s breathing turned ragged. “Oh God.”
Bishop was propped up against his bed, his eyes on her, his dick in his hand. She began salivating like the Hound was a piece of steak and she'd just dropped her vegan diet.
He crooked a finger, "Get your ass over here, Sweetness."
Instincts she couldn't fathom had her drop on all fours and she crawled over to him like an animal in heat.
Bishop flicked his gaze to Drake, "You staying, D?"
Ohhh shit. Tilly's heart did a jig at the thought of the two of them together with her.
Drake shook his head and closed the door. Before she got too disappointed, Bishop distracted her. His fist pumped wildly over his cock. “You like what you see?”
Hell yeah, she did. Bishop’s dick was big and thick. She wanted her name on it. That appendage now belonged to her.
Mark your territory.
A new instinct snapped into place while Tilly crawled across Bishop’s lap and mounted him. Whacking his hand away, she grabbed his cock and rose her hips up. Then she rubbed her pussy against him. "This..." Tilly coated the tip of Bishop’s cock with her lust, "This is mine now."
"Has been since the moment I fucking saw you, Sweetness."
She bit her lip and sank down, easing him into her wet heat slowly. Bishop leaned into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply. Drake's scent clung to her skin. They could both smell it. "You smell like pack, woman."
"Good."
They rode each other over the edge until dinner time.
While Bishop and Tilly stayed upstairs, the rest of the pack was in the kitchen. The tension in the room wasn’t good or bad. It was one hundred percent awkward.
Or maybe that was just Drake’s head doing a job on him.
Damn, he felt so different on the inside now, it was hard to figure out what was worth mentioning and what he should keep to himself. His heart felt like it was trying to jack hammer its way out of his body.
Baz grabbed something out of the fridge and slammed the door closed. As twins, they always had a special connection that was hard to explain to everyone else. Twintuition they called it. And their body language was easy to read. Talking about shit, however, was a total no-go. The twins kept their thoughts to themselves. That preservation strategy started when they were separated as kids in their first life. Old habits don’t die hard. They don’t die. Period.
"What the hell is wrong with ye, Sebastian?" Valor sat back in his seat at the kitchen table.
"Nothing," he lied.
Normally Drake would drop it. If Sebastian didn't want to talk, no one ever pushed. But this felt too important to swipe under the rug an
d Baz was famous for keeping his mouth shut and rolling around in his misery behind closed doors.
"Hey," Drake gripped Baz by the shoulder, "The fuck is wrong, brother?"
His twin's eyes darted from Drake to Valor, then to the floor. "Nothing. Seriously. Leave it the fuck alone."
"I'm going to check on Matilda Jane," Valor announced, "when I return, I expect whatever the hell this is," he waved his hand between the twins, "to be over. Our focus needs to be on her right now and doing our job as Hounds. Fix it. Whatever it is, mend it now." Their alpha rose from his seat and walked away. He'd given that same speech a million god damn times. The twins were notorious for having arguments.
Drake leaned against the kitchen island and crossed his arms. Was this about Drake finally getting a bite of what everyone else feasted on? Was Sebastian jealous? "You could have had a turn. No one stopped you from coming out there with us."
Baz slammed back his drink, "Is that what you think this is about?"
What else could it be? Drake didn't have a clue. "So this attitude isn't about Goldilocks?"
"Will you stop calling her that?" Baz pounded his fists on the counter and took in a couple deep breaths. "I don't want to talk about it right now."
"You never talk about anything ever."
"You the pot or the kettle, brother?"
Drake deadpanned him, "I'm the fire beneath it."
Sebastian rolled his eyes and stalked away. "You're a selfish fucking prick. That's all you are."
Selfish p—
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Drake went after him. Fuming with every step, he followed Sebastian down the stairs and into the billiard room. His twin snatched a pool stick and pointed it at Drake. "Get the fuck out or I'll shove this so far up your ass, you'll be plucking chalk outta your teeth, D."
Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell was wrong with him? Drake waved away the threat. His brother would do no such thing. Baz was more bark than bite.
"Look at me," Drake said. When Baz continued to ignore him he yelled it, "Look at me!"
Their gazes met. Their eyes were identical in shape and shade of fucked up with flecks of fiery rage. Both had the same shape and color eyes as their mother too, so every time they looked at each other, it was difficult to not think of her. "God damn, brother, after everything we've been through, we've finally got something good and you're acting like an asshole."
"Because I need to always be the better one so you can sulk and take the crown for emotionally bankrupt king of the century."
"That wasn't my fault."
"The fucking hell it wasn't." Baz leaned across the pool table. "You weak piece of shit. Everything I've done, was for you." His voice was low and controlled and downright deadly. “And if you end up destroying Tilly’s soul, so help me god, Drake, I’ll fucking spend the rest of our lives making you suffer for it.”
He knew Baz was protective of Tilly. He felt it every time he took in his twin’s soul. Hearing Sebastian’s threats did nothing but make that piece of Tilly’s soul, now rooted in Drake, grow warm and bite a little. He didn’t blame Baz for being worried. And he sure as fuck appreciated Baz’s protective instincts over Goldilocks. That woman needed a pack who would kill for her.
And she’d fucking found it.
"You have no idea what it’s been like for me, Sebastian.” When his brother turned away, Drake rammed him against the wall, knocking down one of the framed pictures. Unlike Baz, Drake was more bite than bark. “I know you didn’t have the best life the first time around, but I did everything I fucking could to make sure it was nothing like mine. So if we’re going to dig up old skeletons, be careful what bones you want to fucking shake. And as for Tilly," damn but it hurt to breathe right now, “I’d never hurt a hair on her head. Nor would I piss on a gift like this. You think I’m not scared shitless that I’ll fuck this up? Well you’re wrong.” But I’ve always kept your soul safe, didn’t I? I’ve always kept you safe, brother.
"How could you risk it?" Baz snarled. "How could you willingly take a piece of her soul into you like that?"
"How could I not?" Drake backed away from his twin. “I’d take anything Tilly offered me.”
A smile. A joke. A sip of her wine. A smart ass compliment. A dance. A conversation. An insult. A tease. A punch. Anything.
Always the guy everyone stayed away from, Drake never learned how to accept kindness or mercy. He never expected it either. But Tilly didn’t give him sweetness and patience and cuddles. Hell no, she gave him fire and fuel and something to sink his teeth into. Never once had she tried to tame him or smooth his rough edges down. She accepted him as he was, pushed his buttons to get him fired up, and encouraged him to break free of his leash.
That’s why they fought so well. That’s why they understood each other on a deeper, unspeakable level. She was his match in every way. She understood him. She saw him.
Some Hounds were so wounded, they whimpered and tucked their tails and cowered in the corner. Drake wasn’t one of those. He was always alone because no one had the guts to come close to him. Not until Valor came into his life. And Bishop. But even those two stayed back most of the time.
Didn’t mean Drake disliked their company though. He’d have nothing without this pack. Shit, he’d be nothing without this pack. Drake didn’t accept gifts lightly. He had to fight his instinct to not bite the hand that fed him because he’d been raised to believe that if he didn’t bite first, he would be eaten alive later.
Always with his defenses up, Drake never let anyone past his castle gates because he was afraid of what they’d see inside his kingdom. All that dark hate, anger, and desperation to cling to the last bit of joy he had, which was his pack, made him extra cautious of all intruders.
Then Tilly came into his life and that woman scaled his fortified walls and peered into his dark dead soul with a two thousand watt flood light. She didn’t back away either. Instead, the fearless woman smiled and said “I see you.” And she liked what she saw. Tilly didn’t try to change him. Tilly never once told Drake to be something he wasn’t. She took what he dished out and slung it right back – all with a big, beautiful smile on her face.
Before today, Drake would have flown high for the rest of his life if she’d kissed him just once the way she always kissed his twin and the others in the pack. But he wasn’t a thief, so instead of stealing a kiss on a night she was in the theatre room or alone in the kitchen making those burnt as fuck grilled cheeses, Drake waited. And waited. And waited. He allowed himself a tiny bit of hope that maybe one day, before she died, Tilly would find him worthy enough of her affections like she did the others….
He never planned on her taking it to the next level like this. Giving Drake a piece of her soul? Fuuuck. It was too much to ask for and too precious to turn down.
"You're right, Sebastian. I am a selfish motherfucker. I've spent so long doing right by everyone and keeping my shit all contained so it didn't dirty up anyone else's precious sensibilities.” They all thought he was a cold-hearted asshole and probably put up with him because he and Baz were a package deal. One more thing he hated about himself: Drake was baggage. Therefore, he stayed out of the way to make the burden of bearing him easier for the pack. “You think I like being cold and numb?"
"You certainly did all you could to stay that way."
"Well, now I've got enough rocking my core to blow me to the moon and burn it to ashes, alright? And I'm scared fucking shitless about it because the last thing I will ever do is purposefully destroy that woman."
"You..." Baz took in a couple of deep breaths. His body was so hard and hot, it was a wonder he didn't burst into flames with his anger. "You didn't even want her.”
“You have no goddamn clue about my desires, brother.”
Baz shook his head, “All this time, you've watched and didn't make a goddamn move with Tills. You accused her of being trouble for this pack. Couldn’t even look at her during breakfast." His eyes glassed over, "And after being the world’s biggest d
ick to her, she just gives you the greatest gift."
"I know I'm not worthy, so save your goddamn breath. And I tried to talk her out of it, but the deal was made and Satan approved. And you know what?" Drake beat his fist on his chest, "It fucking hurts in here. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to move. That woman's buried deep within me now. I can feel her like an ember burning inside me and after I finally got a taste of what you and every other motherfucker in this house has been feasting on for the past few months, I've been set on fire. I'm not sorry I took it. I'm not sorry I kept her for myself out there in the dojo either. And I'm not sorry she fucking died!"
Baz’s punch came out of nowhere and rang Drake's church bells.
Drake didn't care. He deserved the hit. No man in their right mind would say some shit like that, but it was the truth, damnit. You live until you died. Tilly’s life was always going to be a short one because of that curse on her. Thank fuck they found her beforehand.
Drake spat out a mouthful of blood. "I've done everything for you, Baz. I was the whore that got beat, the hole that got fucked, and the dog no one fucking came near." He took a couple steps back, his chest heaving with every breath. "And I'd do it all again, be all those shitty worthless things again, just to fucking spare you. But if this is my break in the clouds, I'm taking it. I'm sick of being the storm."
Baz's jaw ticked. They stared at each other for a few heartbeats before Sebastian said, "You weren't the whore or the dog. I was. So spare me the pity story, D. Your life was far better than mine, I made sure of it. I've always made the best out of every sucky situation we were in. I'm the one who told our owner to use me and spare you."
Drake froze.
Baz moved forward. "And I could have handled it. I could have kept going until I died, but then you had to jump in that night and act like the fucking hero."
"They were whipping you to shreds!"
"They'd done worse!" Baz roared. "And you had to go and get yourself taken down by the entire fucking party so what was I to do? Stand there and watch? I felt you, brother," Baz hit his chest, "I used to cling to that connection of ours like the only life line I had. If you died, I'd have nothing left. So yeah, I jumped in and like a fool, I tried to save your ass. And when I failed? I followed you right to Hell."
Hard to Kill (Hell Hounds Harem Book 6) Page 6
