by Holly Evans
A playful smile burst across Elise’s lips as she said, “Has Kadrix claimed the kiss from Quin yet?”
I hadn’t dared ask; it was an odd subject. Kadrix had demanded a kiss from Quin in return for helping me find him when the coven had kidnapped him. I had no choice but to agree to it, despite the fact I’d have quite happily offered him a kiss myself. Elise’s eyes danced at the implied question and potential there. Quin had always been firmly a ladies’ man, yet there was no denying the way Kadrix looked at him. I gave a small shrug and tried to focus on more pressing matters. Quin was happy, and that’s what counted. The more important question was, what were we going to do about the other hellhound?
Nineteen
The hound’s misery had eaten at me until I sent him away to run in the park. Elise was oddly calm about the second hellhound; I began to wonder if perhaps it was all melodrama and nothing more. I paused to watch the pink and lavender sky above the red rooves and the bright green buds on the trees, desperate to erupt. I hoped that we’d have a day of full sunshine soon; the city looked spectacular when it exploded with colour.
Hellhounds were a fabled beast, something that hunters spoke of in reverent, hushed whispers, much like the demons that controlled them. There had been rumours of hunters of old keeping them, but they were nothing more than rumours told to small children. Yet there I was. They had said that only those with demon blood could bond with a hellhound. I was a purebred human hunter. I wondered how the old hunters had owned the hounds and what had happened to them. I idly traced the engravings on the bracelet, barely realising what I was doing.
My life was changing, and I had no idea what I was supposed to do about or with that. My hound had said that his bond with his ex-master had shattered when he came to this plane, that he was able to stay due to a bond with me. I rolled the idea around my mind; that would suggest that someone else was bonded to the other hound. I chewed on my bottom lip. It wasn’t a huge leap in logic to believe that the witch responsible for the ritual was bonded to the hound.
I’d been trying to contact the hunters to get as much information as possible. Someone, somewhere had to have some answers. Quin was too busy looking for answers elsewhere. The sky dispelled any trace of the sunset, the pink losing its grip on the horizon in favour of the blue with a smattering of stars. The hunters had ignored my texts and phone calls. They were petty fools with egos that should have gotten them killed years ago, yet they were all I had. I gave the gate a small kick as I leaned on it to open it; my mind wandered of its own accord, touching on the varying topics and situations I’d found myself in the middle of. My chance of an easy quiet life had very definitely evaporated.
Quin had a rather large smile on his face when he bounced into the living room. I’d been stretched out on the sofa feeling out the presence in the back of my mind, the hound. My hound. I hadn’t figured out what I was supposed to do with him. Did I treat him like a pet dog? A particularly large and snarky pet dog? There were too many questions and not enough answers. I knew that I had to figure the bond out so that it worked in a way I could live with. Elise had told me that I could hide my emotions from him. I planned on figuring out how to do so as soon as possible. I didn’t like the idea of him knowing me so intimately.
“You have a hellhound, Evie! You own a hellhound!”
I laughed softly at him. His enthusiasm bubbled up through his very being. I was glad one of us could be happy about the situation. I was still quite sure that it was a disaster, but I was trying to look on the bright side. I chewed my bottom lip and wondered how much of his happiness had come from Kadrix. He adored exploring new things, but the elf had clearly had an impact on him.
Once he’d started cooking some food he turned to me, his brows knitted. “Where is the hound? I had more questions.”
I shrugged and lay back on the sofa. “Running, probably around Strahov Park. I told him not to harm anyone, his misery was insufferable.”
“Misery?” Quin asked absent-mindedly.
I sighed. “He’d hoped so desperately for freedom.”
“Ah. Well, he’s a hellhound, he was born into slavery, he’ll adapt. Anyway, you’ll give him a better life than a demon.”
I looked at him pointedly. “You sound as though I’ll be keeping him.”
There had to be a way to return him to wherever he came from. The fae could come and go from the fae realm, as had been demonstrated by the pixie taking Christian there. I saw no reason why I couldn’t return the hound to the infernal realm. He wasn’t meant to be on our plane, and my role in life was to keep the supernal community balanced and hidden. He went against that.
He looked at me aghast. “You can’t send him back! You’re the first human in decades, possibly centuries, to own one. We could learn so much from him, from you...”
I glared at him. “Quin, you are not experimenting on me.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be experimenting per se...”
“Quin...”
He flashed me his most charming grin. “Of course I wouldn’t, sis.”
I huffed and returned to trying to block the presence in the back of my mind.
The hunters had of course answered Quin. The city was old-fashioned in its gender roles; the hunters weren’t usually as bad, but I had clearly upset them somehow. They remained suspicious of my connection to the hound. I hoped that the suspicion wouldn’t evolve into something more bloody, I wasn’t ready to become one of the hunted. We arranged to meet them somewhere quiet, a small park not too far away. We needed to gather information; Elise was researching the possibility of the second hellhound being able to open the hellmouth. It seemed absurd. As far as I was aware, it would take a full coven of strong full-blooded witches to pull off such a feat. Even then, it was hardly a small task. Lysander couldn’t lie, though, so we had to cover every angle.
Quin had hinted throughout the evening that I should call Lysander back so he could ask him more questions. I ignored him, there was no reason to keep the hound nearby. If nothing else, he was happier when he could run, and that placed less weight on my mind. I didn’t particularly want the hound close by, he was a constant reminder of what had happened to me.
Breakfast had been frustrating, with Quin asking incessant questions about the bond with the hound. I loved him, but I had too much on my mind to be pandering to his curiosity. I gave him as much patience as I could, but it remained a finite resource. We walked down to the park in a comfortable silence; Elise joined us when we reached the main road. I was glad of her presence. If nothing else, it gave Quin someone else to question.
She hooked her arm with mine and smiled serenely. It was a little odd seeing her in normal clothes two days running. I’d grown accustomed to her priestess garb. Her pale blue jeans clung to her long lean legs, and her white shirt was simple and elegantly tailored. The calf-length white coat finished the ensemble. She was wearing ice-blue eye shadow. I had to assume that the colour choices were a middle ground with her lady, a small nod of respect.
“I’ve done a little research and spoken with my lady,” she said quietly.
Quin’s ears pricked, but he kept his mouth shut, waiting for her to continue.
“It seems that this other hellhound may be able to open a hellmouth, if he can secure some help. I’d like to hope that the covens of this city have more sense than that, but we can’t be sure.”
The memory of Lysander’s words bloomed in my mind; he had needed the bond with me to remain here. That suggested that the other hound had a bond himself, potentially with a witch. A heavy weight descended over us. If a hellmouth was opened, we’d lose the city, potentially the country.
Quin said, “We need to see if the other hunters know anything, perhaps they have a lead we don’t. They’ve been dealing with the shades after all.”
I simply nodded. The potential situation whirled around my mind, forming a maelstrom of panic and terror. We would find a way; we always did.
Twenty
Matyas stood and greeted Quin with a man-hug; he gave a firm nod to me and Elise. Viktor grunted. Dimitri hadn’t bothered to show. The small park was empty apart from us. The water feature hadn’t been turned on yet, leaving the shallow concrete bowl dry and empty. The water pipes burst up at regular intervals, looking lost and bland without the fountains of water flowing from them. We stood near the wooden benches, each eyeing the other, waiting for someone to break. Matyas’ eye trailed down my arm and lingered on the sliver of silver that emerged from the sleeve of my leather jacket. I wanted to cover it, to hide my secrets from him, but covering it would only draw his eye further.
Quin opened the conversation, “Do you know of any strong covens who might align with demons?”
“She killed the strongest witch in the city and drove her coven out. We haven’t heard hide nor hair of the others since,” Viktor growled.
“She tried to kill me; was I supposed to stand by and allow her, for your convenience?” I spat.
Lysander’s presence pressed into the back of my mind, the clicking of his claws on the tarmac registered alongside it. He appeared at my side a moment or two later. I brushed my fingers over the top of his head without realising what I was doing, before he shifted back into his human form. I felt his words press into my mind, I felt your stress and anxiety. That made me feel weak, yet I couldn’t help but be grateful for his presence. He stood close to me, his eyes fixed firmly on the hunters. I caught the twitch of Elise’s mouth out the corner of my eye, she was fighting back a smile.
Matyas stepped closer, his eyes shining. His hand slipped over the long broad knife at his hip. It remained in its sheath, but I allowed one of my throwing knives to slip down against the heel of my hand, just in case.
“You’re with this hellhound?”
I smiled. “He’s mine, yes.”
Both hunters’ eyes fell on the thin silver band around Lysander’s throat, and they passed questioning looks between each other before Viktor said, “You collared it? You managed to claim it?”
“I did. Any more stupid questions?” I said in as bored a tone as I could muster.
Matyas sputtered, “It’s not possible.”
Elise cut in, “It clearly is. Now. Stop wasting time and tell us, have the shades made any mention of a hellmouth? Have any of the covens shown signs of infernal interference?”
Their eyes hardened.
Viktor said, “No. The shades have eluded us. The covens won’t speak to us, thanks to that bitch.”
Lysander bristled and bared his teeth. Viktor and Matyas both took a step back; I smiled. Maybe the hound would have some uses after all.
Quin held up his hands and looked between the two groups.
He said calmly to the hunters, “There have been rumours about the second hound’s plans to open a hellmouth.”
Matyas shook his head and said, “That’s not possible.”
I smiled sweetly and said, “It seems that a lot of impossible things are occurring as of late.”
His nostrils flared, but he bit back his words and looked at Quin. “I am not a witch. I do not know of such things. You have your hound, the other is your problem. We’ll collect the bounty from the shades.”
“You’re not going to make any effort to try and stop a hellmouth being opened?” I growled.
Viktor shrugged, the others made non-committal noises.
With that, Matyas nodded to Viktor and they walked away. Lysander bristled next to me, but remained still and quiet. Elise shook her head.
“That could have gone better,” she said softly.
“They’re pathetic fools,” I spat.
“It’s an age-old argument, Evie,” Quin said.
I paced around a small circle.
“There is more to being a hunter than keeping the supernals in line. We have a duty to protect the city,” I growled.
“Not everyone agrees,” Quin said.
“Then they’re wrong,” I snapped.
Quin shook his head and sighed.
“We’re on your side, Evie,” Elise said.
“How can they shrug off this situation? How can they walk away from this in good conscience?” I asked.
“They believe that duty falls to the priests and priestesses,” Elise said.
I muttered curses under my breath. “They’re fools, nothing more than mercenaries.”
“This isn’t helping things, Evie,” Quin said.
I narrowed my eyes at him. He grinned at me, that infuriating grin that made me melt no matter how foul my mood.
He said to Lysander, “Lysander, what can you tell us about this other hound and its plans?”
The hound looked at me, I gestured for him to answer Quin. “He was... rather devoted to our master. He can’t do it alone, though, he’ll require some local help.”
I hadn’t managed to speak to any of the covens since I’d killed Serena; as the hunters had said, they were too scared of me. The fae wouldn’t be of any use. I paced up and down the path. Quin returned to questioning Lysander about his experiences in the infernal realm.
“What sort of local help?” Quin asked.
Lysander curled his lip and growled, “Witches. Strong witches.”
“Well, that’s specific,” I said.
The hound glared at me.
“Is there nothing else?” Quin said.
“I was told nothing. I was supposed to be nothing more than muscle. It was offensive. I am a marrok, and he put me beneath that whimpering pup. Our old master gave me no details, nothing more than to do as I was told and spill the blood that pup told me to,” Lysander growled.
I’d heard enough. I started walking off down the path. Elise’s hand settled on my arm, bringing me to a stop.
“Come with me back to my church, we’ll speak to my lady and ask for guidance.” Her voice was soft, and it calmed me somewhat.
I paused, looking into her silver eyes. “Could the hound pull this off? Could it really open a hellmouth?”
She held my eye contact. “With the right help, yes.”
I looked over to Lysander and Quin. Lysander had tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans; laughter danced along his lips, Quin was grinning and talking animatedly. He was in his element.
Elise hooked her arm through mine. “Leave them to follow their own trail, we’ll meet them later.”
I allowed her to lead me off to her church; a break and some answers would do me a lot of good.
I couldn’t organise my thoughts; they fluttered and entangled themselves around each other, leaving me with a sense of dread and nothing much more. The angels on the architecture caught my eye more than usual; perhaps they would aid us against the potential new threat. They stood tall and proud, gazing out from balconies and spires, watching over the city. The tram made its way up the hill, the driver clearly in a rush as he hit the brakes coming into the stop. Everyone glared at the back of the driver’s cabin when they almost fell into each other; Elise and I braced ourselves against the back of the plastic seats in front of us.
The cobble-stoned street was empty, barring one lost-looking tourist who paused to look at the signposts at the cross-road. Elise’s pace increased, pulling me along to her church; her usual calm and peace were shrivelling and revealing something darker. She breathed a sigh of relief as we stepped into her sanctuary; she wasted no time in kneeling before the white altar. I remained back in the shadows giving her room and space to do what she needed to do. I couldn’t help but trace my mind around Lysander’s presence at the back of it. I had so much left to learn. Everything had been turned on its head over the past couple of weeks.
Twenty-One
Elise was still knelt before her altar when I heard the scratching and scrabbling. I didn’t dare disturb her in her sacred time. As quietly as I could manage, I crept out to the front door, thinking it a stray dog that she fed or something equally charitable. I opened the large wooden door to see a wild-eyed man. Claws protruded from his fingertips, and his eyes k
ept shifting between blue and amber. A throwing knife fell into my hand. I hadn’t even realised I’d done it.
He said, “Please. Help me. I heard this was a safe haven.”
His claws dug into the door as his legs buckled beneath him. Without thinking, I pulled his arm around my shoulders and helped him into the church. He went down onto all fours; his face began to extend, but it never made it past a slight deformity. Thick coarse hair sprouted down his spine, agony echoing through his growls and cries; there was nothing I could do. He fell over onto his side panting, his eyes never settling on one thing for more than half a second at a time. Elise walked over to him, her mouth in a small tight line, her eyes dark. She knelt at his side; I stepped back, giving them room.
Her voice was soft, yet stern. “Who did this?”
The man, the abomination, swallowed hard and looked at her. His eyes finally focused. He moved his mouth as though feeling out the new shape of his jaw before he tried to speak.
“There was so much pain, so much blood. The women, they appeared from nowhere. I woke up in blood. I woke up like this. What am I? What did they...?”
He growled and began convulsing, screaming with pain as his ribs broke and reset again and again. His body was trying to shift, but it wasn’t able to. Someone had made him something between a human and a lycan. A botched experiment, or some form of twisted torture. Elise stroked his hair tenderly and whispered soothing words in a language I didn’t understand. After a few minutes of his muscles tearing and resetting, he calmed and settled again. Panting and dripping with sweat, he gripped onto Elise’s hand and looked into her eyes.
