A Streetcar Named Demonic (Madder Than Hell Book 3)

by Renee George

  I kicked my feet and nailed Bobby several times around the knees and shins, but it only made the werewolf laugh. "I can't wait to make you pay for ruining my deal with Leonard," he snarled in my ear. "I think I will eat that pretty little nose of yours. But first...Grady Conrad, I have your woman! If you want her, you'll have to come and get her."

  Four more hellhounds surrounded us along with six additional shifters. "No! Grady don't come out here. There's too many."

  "That's right," Bobby said. "Call out to him. It doesn't matter what you say. Grady will come for you. It's his nature."

  "Because he's a good man," I gritted out. "Not like you."

  "I think that's been established," the Alpha said without concern.

  Grady exited the cave, in his human form, his clothes stretched and torn. "Let her go, Bobby, and fight me," he said. I didn't see his mom. She had to be exhausted. I'd never been able to appear more than once or twice in a day, and she'd done it multiple times in an hour. I was beginning to wonder how powerful she must have been in life to be able to manifest herself this often in death.

  "Offer me your belly, Grady, and I'll consider sparing your girlfriend's life."

  Kobal clapped his hands. "The drama, the suspense, the showmanship! Bravo," he said to Bobby. "Bravo. You might be my biggest entertainer, yet."

  "You know he only wants you to fulfill his sideshow freak category in Hell, right? When you die, and you will die," I said to Bobby, "he will put you in a cage and you will serve as a novelty act in his Cirque de Fiery Pits."

  "Oh, Eliza," Kobal said. "You're wonderful. I should have made my bargain with you and not Charlotte."

  Grady snarled and growled as Bobby's packmates forced him to the ground. I knew his fear for my safety was the only thing that kept him from wolfing out and ripping them to shreds.

  The hellhounds surrounded him, too. "No!" I shouted. "Don't touch him." The monster hounds hesitated. To my shock, they stepped back from Grady.

  "What are they doing?" Bobby asked Kobal.

  "I'm not sure. I've never seen them listen to anyone like that, except..."

  "Leonard," I said. He was the angel of animals. It made sense that he would make friends with the only animals in Hell.

  "Yes," Kobal said in an annoyed voice. "He does have a way with dogs." He tipped his top hat to Bobby. "No offense."

  "And I'm still Leonard's servant," I said. "Hey, Hellhounds!"

  The five black creatures turned to me at once.

  "You can't make them attack anyone," Kobal said. "Only a demon lord can command them to fight."

  No, but I might be able to get them to leave. I hoped. "Go back to Hell," I commanded. The hounds disappeared into five wisps of black smoke.

  Kobal gave me an appraising stare. "You are full of surprises."

  I wasn't afraid of Kobal. Without the hounds, he was harmless to me and to Grady. I was still Leonard's minion, and as such, I was off limits to another demon lord, and Grady was one of Leonard's creatures. Again, he'd be messing in another demon lord's territory. "What is your end game, Bobby? What did Kobal promise you?"

  "He promised to help me get rid of Grady Conrad and reclaim the territory that should have been mine twenty-five years ago."

  "And in return?"

  "I would bring him you."

  "Did you happen to tell him I was Leonard's minion?"

  "He left that part out," Kobal said dryly. He looked at Bobby. "I've done as much as I can for you, Broderick. You cannot deliver what I want. Contract cancelled." He held up a piece of parchment then threw it in air and it burned in a bright flash of white, hot flame. Kobal. Always the showman. I'd seen my brother-in-law Jared, who was a magician by trade, do the same with flash paper. A cloud of smoke ingulfed his entire being and when it dissipated, Kobal was gone. I'm sure I'd see him again one day. His vendetta against my sister was far from over.

  With the hounds and the demon gone, I turned my attention back to Bobby. "If you harm Grady or me, my sisters will hunt you and put you down," I said. "If you haven't heard about Olivia before, let me tell you, she is not known for her mercy."

  "No, I'm not," I heard my sister say.

  My eyes widened as my heart jumped into my throat. Olivia stepped out into the field holding a gun in her hand, the werewolf-killing Luger. David stood next to her, holding two silver machetes.

  "Liv!" How in the world had she found me?

  With her other hand, Olivia held up her phone. "GPS, sister dear. With an assist from the family tracker app."

  And my phone was in my back pocket. I grinned. "You're in for it now, Bobby."

  "Not while I have you in my grasp," Bobby said.

  I yelped as he threw me over his shoulder, caveman style, and took off in a loping run. I heard my sister shouting, Grady's roar, gunshots, more shouts, and howls of pain behind us, but Bobby never slowed down as he stole away with me across the rocky field.

  Chapter 16

  I wasn't surprised when Bobby took me to his house. I was, however, surprised when he dumped me into a cage in his dark basement and locked me inside. I heard weeping in the next cell over.

  "Carol Ann? Is that you?"

  "Eliza?"

  "Yes. I'm here. Are you hurt?"

  "No," she said. "But Randy...I'm not sure what's wrong with him. He's real sick. He's in the cage on the other side of me." Her voice choked up. "I think he has that flu. The one the killed that pack in Indiana. He's not running a fever, but he threw up until he passed out. I think he's dying."

  Alarmed, I said, "You shouldn't touch him, Carol Ann. From what I hear, it's highly contagious."

  "I don't care," she replied. "If he dies, I will die with him. We're not officially mated, but he is my mate," Carol Ann said. "I don't want to live without him."

  I realized right then I felt the same way about Grady. And, I knew in my heart, Grady was mine as much as I was his. But I couldn't be with him if I stayed trapped in this cage.

  "Have you tried to get out?"

  "It's impossible," she said. "Dad made these out of stainless silver rods. Werewolves have severe allergies to silver. I can't touch the bars without blistering my hands."

  I sat down. On my phone. Crap. I still had my phone in my pocket. I had hope Olivia might be able to use it to find me, but I had zero bars of reception in the basement. Still, I pushed the side button to wake it up. I could see Carol Ann’s face in the faint glow. Her hair was a tangled mess, her eye bruised and her lip bloody. "Did your dad do that?"

  She nodded. "I've never seen him so riled up before."

  I held up my phone and paced the small cage, desperate for a flicker of reception, but couldn't find any good spots.

  "The walls down here are concrete fortified with steel. It was meant to keep a werewolf captive," Carol Ann said. "Dad uses it to punish anyone in the pack who defies him. Even me, it seems."

  The room smelled of urine and excrement, along with the iron smell of blood and rust. This wasn't just a prison—it was a torture chamber. Bobby Broderick was a sick as they come. I shuddered to think what would have happened if he had been allowed more power. I touched the bars and felt a mild discomfort at the silver, because of my minion status, but nothing more. "What kind of locks are on these cages?"

  "It's magnetized with an electronic key pad by the door. With a push of a button he can open or close the gate."

  I wasn't an engineer like Charlotte, or tough like Olivia, and I certainly didn't have the brains of Elise. However, I like to think I had a little something of all them in me. "Is there a power box or even a plug in anywhere near the cages?"

  "I'm not sure. This is the first time I've been in this horror show of a basement."

  I held my phone outside the bars and saw a socket a few inches out of my reach. I needed something bendable and metal. I began to search all around the floor in my cell and the area just outside it.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I'm trying to find something to jam in the light
socket over there."

  "Are you trying to electrocute yourself?"

  "Yes," I said. "And disable the damn locks at the same time."

  "I don't understand."

  "Magnetic locks need electricity to work," I told her. "If I can blow the breaker and cut the power, or at least cause a surge, it might be enough to open these damn doors."

  "How large a piece of metal do you need?" Carol Ann asked.

  "Five or six inches will do."

  "Hold on." I heard her grunt and sigh, then a snap, and another sigh. I held the light toward her. "What are you doing?"

  She held up a cloth-covered piece of thin metal about six inches long. "Will this underwire work?"

  I rushed to the bars of her cage. "Carol Ann, you're a genius!" I reached through and took the bra underwire from her.

  "Says the girl in the cage to the other girl in the cage."

  "We're women," I told her. "Powerful women who are getting the Hell out of these silver prison cells right now." I scrambled over to the other side again. It took me several misses before I finally got the end of the underwire into one of the openings. "Wish me luck."

  "Luck," she said.

  I jammed the wire into the socket and bright sparks shot out as a gazillion volts of electricity shot through me.

  I passed out.

  I woke up a few second later with Carol Ann slapping my face to wake me, and Bobby roaring his way downstairs. "Come on," Carol Ann said. "There is a way out from down here, but I can't save you and Randy, so you need to get up and save yourself."

  I wanted to, but my legs were numb. I'd shocked the feeling right out of them and my right ankle was smoking. Crap. Bad news, I'd cooked myself. Good news, I was still a minion, which made me resilient. “Take Randy," I told her. "Don't wait for me. Go."

  She squeezed my hand. "Thank you, Eliza."

  A few seconds later, Bobby stormed the basement. He had a flashlight in hand and he shined it on the three open doors. "Son-of-a-bitch," he cussed when he saw his daughter and her lover had escaped. He turned his attention to me. "I'm going to make you pay for this." He grabbed me up by the back of the shirt. My cell phone skidded from my pocket and slid across the room. Bobby dropped me and retrieved it. In the glow of my screen, a smile I didn't like one bit formed on his lips. He grabbed me again and hauled me upstairs like a sack of wheat.

  He plopped me down on the sofa just as some feeling came back into my toes. I wiggled them in my shoes. "What is your plan, Bobby? What good do you think can come from any of this? Your pack will never trust you. The Ralls pack will never follow you. No demon will ever deal with you again. How do you think you can turn this into a win?"

  He held my phone up. "I'm going to text your boyfriend and tell him to come alone and unarmed if he wants to see your pretty face again."

  "You can't kill me."

  "Maybe not. But will you want to live after I sever your limbs from your body?"

  Ouch. I didn't want to find out. "Why would you even want all the power? It won't make you happy. And it won't give you want you want."

  "How could you possibly know what I want?"

  "I understand—"

  He cut me off. "You understand nothing. All this should have been mine twenty-five years ago."

  What happened back then that would have made him think he could have both packs? My phone dinged, and Bobby smiled. "He's on his way. He'll be here in five minutes, and I will make him submit to me."

  That was the third time I'd heard him talking about Grady as if he wanted him as a member of the pack. He'd said that Grady would be his second at the contract meeting, then outside the cave, he wanted Grady to submit to him by showing his belly, and now he said it again. Other than when he was shouting in the caves, he acted like he didn't want to kill Grady. "Why not just kill Grady? It would make the process of taking over much easier."

  "Are you eager to see him die?"

  "Of course, not. But neither are you. What is it about Grady? Were you true friends with his father?"

  Bobby's brow furrowed, and I could see the vein in his forehead pulsing.

  "No, not his father. Maybe his mother?"

  Bobby winced. Nailed it.

  "You cared for Grady's mom. I can understand why. She is beautiful."

  "Is?"

  "Uhm, I mean, was, she was beautiful. You know, in her pictures."

  "She was," Bobby said. "And talented. She could have made Harold a king, but he treated her gifts as if they were madness. I cherished Lara." He poked his chest. "I loved her."

  I nodded. "But she was mated to Harold, a binding that was unbreakable, even by love. Is that why she killed herself?"

  Another expression crossed his face. Shame.

  I finally understood then. Lara had not committed suicide. "You killed her. But why?"

  "I'd put wolfsbane concentrate in Harold's beer. He was the only one who drank it. Or so I thought." He ran his hand over the top of his head then rubbed his face. "She wasn't supposed to drink it. I found her in the bathroom of their home, throwing up, the poison working its way through her system. I tried to give her the antidote, foxglove leaf juice, but it was too late. She'd drank too much and was too far gone."

  "But why did people think it was suicide?"

  "I wrote a note on her stationary. She'd been unhappy with Harold, and he was dumb enough to believe it. If he had really known Lara, he would have known that she would never leave her son."

  Bobby had known Lara well. She hadn't left her son, not even in death.

  "And so, because of her, you don't want to harm Grady."

  "No," he said. "But that same sentiment doesn't apply to you, just so we're clear."

  I could feel my hips now but didn't move them. "Perfectly clear."

  Grady kicked the front door in and strode inside, his claws down and ready to rip. Bobby stood behind me and put a knife to my throat. Grady stopped. "Let her go."

  "First swear fealty to me. Make a blood oath of loyalty, and I will let your woman go."

  "I wish you'd quit talking about me like I'm property,” I said. “I'm not. And neither was Lara."

  Bobby's grip on my neck tightened. He didn't want me spilling the beans about his part in Lara's death. But I had a different plan in mind altogether.

  "But Grady," I said, "when someone has sunk as low as Bobby here, sometimes you just have to take the high road." I stared at my hunky, angry werewolf, trying to convey my haphazard plan. "Your mother would agree with me."

  On cue, Lara materialized in the room. "Hello, Bobby," she said.

  I grabbed the knife when shock loosened his grip then I dropped low on the couch and stabbed Bobby in the upper thigh where his hip met his groin, effectively severing his femoral artery. Grady, full on claws and fur and teeth, sailed over the top of me and slammed Bobby to the floor. Without ceremony, because let's face it, Bobby didn't deserve any, Grady ripped his head clean off his neck and it went rolling across the living room floor.

  "Ewww!" I said.

  "You were always squeamish," Olivia said, stepping through the open doorway. David came in behind her.

  "And you're late," I told her.

  "It took a minute to get your signal back. Besides, it looks like you guys had it under control," she said, but I could see the sheer relief on her face.

  "How did you know to come?"

  "You texted me that Leonard had let you out of your contract and canceled the pack contracts, and that you were heading to Hannibal to tell Grady."

  "Yes. None of that sounds like a cry for help."

  "Excuse me, sister dear, but you aren't a minion anymore." She narrowed her eyes at me. "Or at least, you weren't when you texted. Did you really think I was going to let you play alone with a pack of wolves while mortal?"

  "You know, Liv, for once, I'm not sorry you're an overbearing older sister."

  "Good to know," she said. "And what about you? Are you a full-time minion again?"

  "No, Leonard is
letting me go. On Monday."

  She walked over and hugged me. "Good. Now, since this is not demon business, I will leave you and the werewolf to clean-up." She eyed Grady who was changing back to his human form. "Will I see you at home?" she asked me.

  "Soon," I promised.

  "Take care of my girl," Olivia told him.

  "I think Eliza has proven she can take care of herself." The adoration in his face blew my heart apart--not literally, obviously--but I was undeniably smitten with him.

  "You're absolutely right," Olivia said. Then to me she added, "Don't trip over the head."

  It had rolled near my feet. I jumped back. "Ew."

  Grady picked me up, my feet dangling a more than a foot off the ground. He kissed me, and I tasted blood from his victory and gagged. "No, tongue. Not until you rinse."

  "Then I better get to rinsing because I plan to use my tongue a lot."

  "My word," I said, as I considered kissing him again blood and all. "I'm sure we can find a glass of water somewhere."

  Chapter 17

  Monday, three days later...

  Grady was waiting for me when I came out of the bathroom at his house. I'd gotten up early, cut myself on the arm to make sure it wasn't going to heal right up, and sure enough, I was mortal. After, I gussied up a bit for him. Grady, who'd done little more than brush his teeth, was stunningly gorgeous in nothing but a pair of loose pajama pants. His wide chest and large arms had become my favorite place to reside.

  "You look damn sexy in just my T-shirt and those black panties," Grady said.

  "Why thank you kindly. You look pretty sexy this morning, as well." I rose up on my tip-toes and kissed his lower lip. "Do you know what day it is?" I asked him coyly.

  "Is it President's day?"

  I grinned, "Nope."

  "Saint Patrick's?"

  "Not even close."

  "Valentine's day?"

  "You're getting warmer."

  "Labor Day?"

  "It's Sex Day!" I squealed, throwing my arms around his neck.

  "So, Labor Day is right."

  I smacked him then kissed him, hard, as he folded me in his arms. I'd been waiting for this day it seemed, for all my life. For three days, we'd done just about everything you could without actually having sex, because I had wanted to wait until my minion status was final. Besides, it had been nice getting to know Grady without all the threat of damnation hanging over our shoulders.