Hellhound (A Deadtown Novel)

by Nancy Holzner

  “That’s the glove you took from your trunk last night,” I said.

  “The gauntlet, yes. I thought it would be a good idea if Evan were to join us for this discussion. After all, the situation concerns him, as well.” Mab picked up the gauntlet and fitted it onto her right hand. The fingers looked big and clumsy, and the cuff nearly reached her elbow.

  She stood, holding her right arm out straight before her. In a loud, clear voice, she said, “Hebog, tyrd!”

  The words meant Falcon, come! in Welsh.

  She repeated the phrase twice more. The third time she said it, there was a change in the air, an electric charge. I took a breath; it was like inhaling lightning, a sharp, tingly feeling in my lungs. Kane grabbed my hand. Mab watched the ceiling, holding her arm before her. The gauntlet glowed with a pulsing light. The buzzing pressure grew.

  A shape slammed through the ceiling, a hurtling white blur. Mab staggered back a step as the blur hit her arm. The blur took shape as a falcon, his talons grasping the gauntlet. The bird’s head turned, taking in the room. When he saw me, his body relaxed and he folded his wings. “Hi, Vic.” Dad greeted Mab, too. Although he stared at Kane, he didn’t speak to him. Instead, he looked at Mab. “Well, that was weird. It’s good to see you, but I’m not sure how I got here.”

  “Weird, yes,” said Mab. “Almost as weird as being spoken to by a falcon in the voice of my long-dead nephew.”

  “Touché, old girl.” He chuckled. “You should’ve seen your face.”

  “Weirdness aside, what happened, just now, when I called you here?”

  The falcon tilted his head. “Do you remember those old science fiction films I used to watch? It was like being pulled into a tractor beam, like you sometimes see in those. However hard I strained, whichever way I tried to fly, it sucked me here.”

  “I used the gauntlet to call you. Can you leave it?”

  Dad didn’t move. He grunted and twisted, but he stayed where he was. “Nope. My talons won’t let go.”

  “The white falcon is bound to this gauntlet unless I release him.” Mab snapped her fingers. Dad hopped off the glove and perched on the back of a chair. He shook himself and started preening. Mab sat in her own seat, then turned to Kane and me. “Now you see why we must not allow the Night Hag to get possession of it.”

  Dad stopped preening. “The Night Hag? She knows about it?”

  “She saw me with it last night.” Mab took off the glove and laid it flat on the table, her fingers smoothing the leather. “Were you aware of it, Evan? Before I used it to call you, I mean.”

  “No, but the falcon was. Or at least, I got a flash of recognition when you called. There’s a memory buried deep in this brain, but it feels old, something almost forgotten. Where did you get the gauntlet?”

  “In the very distant past. It was a gift from Lord Arawn.”

  That surprised me. “Really?” I’d met Arawn in the Darklands, and he didn’t seem like the gift-giving type. He’d loaned me a sword, but that didn’t work out too well. During our brief acquaintance, the main thing Arawn had given me was an order to get out of his kingdom or die.

  “As I said, child, it was long ago. I brought the gauntlet with me because you told me you’d brought the falcon into our world from the Darklands.” She turned to Dad. “What she didn’t tell me, Evan, was that you had come with him.”

  “I promised,” I muttered, staring at the table. Kane, his hand still on mine, gave a squeeze.

  “Vic, it would have been okay—” Dad began.

  “Victory has not been entirely forthcoming with any of us—including you, I’m afraid. That’s why we’re meeting here now, to lay our cards on the table, as it were, so that everyone involved fully understands the situation.”

  Dad cocked his head at me. I’d gotten used to the falcon’s constant sharp-eyed, almost angry expression, which never changed, no matter what Dad was feeling. Even so, guilt permeated my gut. I ignored the feeling. Time to stop trying to carry everything myself, as Kane said. I loved everyone sitting around this table, loved them so much it hurt sometimes. If anything ever happened to any of them . . . But they didn’t want my protection. They wanted my trust. I took a deep breath.

  “Dad, when I was in the Darklands, Kane followed me there. To bring me home.”

  The falcon’s head swiveled to Kane. His stare lasted a full minute. “How did you get in?”

  “The same way I did,” I answered. “He made a deal with Mallt-y-Nos.”

  “She’s well known to werewolves,” Kane put in. “One of her titles is Mistress of Hounds. But normally she leaves us alone.”

  “What did you promise the hag?”

  “He promised . . .” My voice cracked, and I couldn’t seem to get any more words out. Kane moved his chair closer to mine and put his arm around my shoulders. A warm, gentle squeeze reassured me.

  “I promised to join her pack for a year and a day.”

  “As a hellhound?”

  “Yes. For the three nights of each full moon.”

  Kane and my father locked eyes across the table, Kane’s steady gray-eyed gaze meeting Dad’s bright, sharp one. With a start, I realized that this was the first time they’d met, not counting the business at the airport. Oh, great. I was glad we’d had no time for formal introductions. Dad, meet my werewolf boyfriend; he moonlights as a hellhound. Kane, meet my father, a talking falcon from the realm of the dead. Even under the best of circumstances—which these were not—we’d all be chowing down on supersize portions of awkward.

  “Well, Vic,” Dad said. “He looks strong. He might survive. You say he came for you in the Darklands? How come?”

  “Because I love her.” Despite our grim situation, Kane’s words sent sparkles of pleasure through me. He sounded so natural, so sure.

  “Really? Vic, are you two an item or something? Because I swear I can’t remember you ever mentioning . . . what’s his name again?”

  Kane stiffened, but he didn’t pull away. I could feel his questioning gaze on me, but I kept my own eyes on my father. “Kane, Dad. His name is Alexander Kane. And if you’d think for a minute, you’d realize my love life has never been a big topic of discussion between you and me.”

  “But he’s a—”

  Don’t say it, Dad. “He’s my boyfriend. And I—” I was going to say, “I love him,” but my voice cracked again and Mab took the opportunity to tsk at all of us.

  “Based on my own observations, Evan, I will attest to the fact that Victory and Mr. Kane are indeed in a serious and exclusive relationship.”

  A serious and exclusive relationship. How romantic. Why couldn’t I get the L-word out in the easy way Kane said it? Damn it, I didn’t want to leave any room for doubt.

  “I love him, Dad.” There. Not a hint of a crack. My words came out clear and strong. My father stared at me and didn’t reply. I broke from his gaze and turned to Kane. He didn’t speak either, but the soft glow in his eyes said everything.

  Mab broke the silence. “Examining the validity of their relationship is not the purpose of this meeting. Although I’ll admit it does affect our current problem. To catch you up, Evan, I’m sure you’re aware that Mallt-y-Nos was furious when you escaped from her.”

  Dad quit staring at Kane. He chuckled and puffed out his chest feathers. “The old hag didn’t have her claws on me for more than half an hour.”

  “She blames Victory. She’s convinced that Vicky somehow stole you from her. She has sworn that at the next full moon, she will set her hounds—Mr. Kane among them—on Vicky in revenge.”

  Dad’s chest deflated. “Vic, is this true?”

  I nodded, miserable.

  “The hag has offered Vicky a way out. She will release Mr. Kane from his promise on one condition.”

  The falcon’s gaze fixed on the glove lying on the table. “If Vic hands me over.”

  “That’s correct. So you see—”

  “That’s why you brought the gauntlet, isn’t it?” Although the
falcon’s expression never changed, hurt permeated my father’s voice. “You called me here to tell me that you’re giving me to that horrible creature.”

  “No, Dad. It’s not that simple.”

  “Of course it is. I understand, Vic. Your boyfriend gets his freedom, and the Night Hag leaves you alone.”

  “If we planned to do that, Evan, why would we be here now? We could have given Mallt-y-Nos the gauntlet at the airport last night.”

  “Without saying good-bye? You wouldn’t be that cold, Mab.” The falcon shook himself, and the sadness in Dad’s voice deepened. “Honestly, Vic, I do understand. When you made your first bargain with the Night Hag, you never expected me to be part of it. You couldn’t have known I’d use this body to leave the Darklands or that I’d abandon the hag the first chance I got. So I take responsibility. But . . . if you could hold off one more day, give me a chance to see your mother.” He shook his head and spoke quietly, as if to himself. “I’m sorry now I wasted so much time getting up the courage to speak to her.”

  “Dad, stop.” I rapped the table a couple of times to make him look at me. “We are not handing you over to the Night Hag. In the first place, you should know me well enough to know I couldn’t do that to you.”

  “And I couldn’t let her sic her hellhounds on you. They’d rip you to bits.”

  “She’ll probably do that anyway. Calling the hounds off was never part of the deal. All she offered was a one-for-one exchange: the falcon for Kane’s release. That’s where I got stuck. It’s an impossible bargain. No matter how many times I thought it through, I couldn’t come up with an acceptable solution.”

  “Besides,” Mab put in, “there’s even more at stake.” Awe crept into her voice. “The white falcon can kill the Morfran.”

  “I was as surprised about that as anybody,” Dad said. “In fact, I was planning to come over and discuss it before you called me here. I don’t know if Vic told you, Mab, but I’ve been trying to read the book. And now I finally understand what it was telling me, telling the falcon part of this brain. The Morfran is the falcon’s food.” He clicked his beak in what was perhaps the avian equivalent of smacking one’s lips. “Better than cheeseburgers.”

  “What happened last night, Evan?”

  “I was perched on a rooftop near the harbor, looking out at the water and trying out different things I might say to Anne. I can’t seem to figure out a way to break this”—he opened and closed his wings—“to her gently. So there I was, watching the planes come and go. Now that I think of it, Mab, I probably saw yours land. Anyway, all of a sudden there was this clamoring in my head. And hunger. Good lord, I’ve never felt so hungry. Like what I felt while reading the book, but stronger. I didn’t even try to understand what was happening; I simply let this body act. I let the hunger guide me, and you saw what happened. The falcon wanted the Morfran.”

  “You expelled it from Bonita. That’s the name of the zom—” I glanced at Kane. “I mean, the PDH who attacked Mab.” Dad’s talons hadn’t done her face much good, but he’d saved her life by getting the Morfran out before it fed on her. Not that that mattered after Pryce grabbed her again.

  “It’s clear,” Mab said, “that the falcon must remain at liberty to help us in the coming war. If we act now to destroy the Morfran, Pryce’s demon troops will never gain the strength to march out of Hell. We could prevent the war.”

  Silence fell upon the table. I closed my eyes against visions of Boston burning, of death and slaughter, of a bloody sword in my own hand. If only we could turn the path of fate so that instead of solidifying into reality, those visions would dissolve and fade like a bad dream. With the falcon’s help, we might have a chance.

  “So,” Kane said, “let’s look at what we’re dealing with, point by point.” His logical lawyer brain was taking control of the conversation. Good. He spoke dispassionately, holding up his free hand and counting off each point on his fingers. “One, there’s my bargain with the Night Hag. Two, there’s her threat to kill Vicky.” He paused and looked at my father. “I’ve hired four of the country’s top witches to shield her apartment during the full moon, if we can convince her to stay home.”

  “I already told you I can’t promise that. And I still think you’re wasting your money. That charm I wore didn’t keep the Night Hag away; she blew it apart like dandelion fluff. When the Night Hag comes after me, nothing will stop her.”

  “Unless,” Mab said, “we can think of a way to make Mallt-y-Nos call off her hounds.” She nodded at Kane. “Please continue.”

  “Three”—he ticked off another finger—“the white falcon carries the spirit of Vicky’s father. Four, the Night Hag wants the falcon. And five, the falcon can kill the Morfran—but only if it’s free of the hag’s control.”

  Each point felt like a hundred-pound weight settling on my shoulders. “See?” I said. “It’s impossible.”

  “Hush, child. You can’t think that way. There’s always a solution.” But the way the minutes stretched out, everyone staring gloomily at the table, seemed to contradict that notion.

  “Okay.” Dad’s voice made me jump. “Let’s say Vic did hand me over. Without the gauntlet, I mean—that was never part of the deal, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’ll escape again. The first time the hag sends me to dive-bomb some poor soul she’s hunting, I’ll fly away. Same as before.”

  “It’s too risky.” Mab shook her head. “Mallt-y-Nos would not have proposed the exchange without some way of binding the falcon to her. If she gets her hands on you, Evan, I’m afraid there’ll be no flying away this time.”

  “What about a substitute?” Kane said.

  “Where would we get one?” I asked. “It’s not like they sell white falcons at pet stores.”

  “True, but we might get something that’s close enough. Remember when I was stuck in wolf form? Roxana Jade created a charm so that everyone who looked at me saw a German shepherd. We know that charm worked. If we got a different bird—a parakeet or a canary or something—and the charm gave it the appearance of the white falcon . . .”

  “It wouldn’t work.” I shook my head. “The bird would have to wear the charm somewhere, and the hag will inspect every inch before she releases you.”

  “I believe Mr. Kane has the right idea,” Mab said, her eyes alight. “Although we can effect the substitution much more simply. Victory, you will contact the Night Hag. Tell her you’ve agreed to the exchange, and set up a time and place.”

  “And then what? If not Dad or a charmed canary, what can I give her?”

  “Me, of course. I’ll shift into a white falcon.”

  21

  I DIDN’T LIKE IT. IF HANDING DAD OVER TO THE NIGHT HAG was too risky, it was an equally bad idea to give her Mab. If anything went wrong, my aunt could end up as a hostage, or worse.

  “Nonsense, child.” Mab waved away my objections. “I’ve thought it through. We’ll make a replica of the gauntlet, and you’ll offer that to Mallt-y-Nos if—and only if—she promises to prevent her hounds from attacking you. She’ll want to test it, of course. I’ll be close by, and when she calls I’ll arrive immediately. When she’s convinced of the gauntlet’s authenticity, I don’t doubt she’ll be willing to give whatever you want in exchange for it.”

  “But you said she must have some way of binding Dad to her. I don’t want her doing that to you.”

  “I’m not a falcon, child. As soon as she’s released Mr. Kane and vowed not to attack you, I’ll resume my usual form.”

  Something would go wrong. I could feel it. I argued; I reasoned. I even considered pulling rank—if Mab really thought I was the Lady of the Cerddorion, maybe I should use that to my advantage. But I couldn’t bear the thought of my aunt on her knees before me again. It wasn’t right.

  So eventually I agreed. I couldn’t think of a better plan, and I’d sacrificed weeks to my own indecision. As soon as darkness returned and she could ride forth, I’d call the Nigh
t Hag and set up our exchange.

  Kane stood, announcing he had to get to the office. He said a general good-bye. Mab replied that it was a pleasure to see him again, but Dad fixed him with a cold predator’s stare. I got up to walk him to the door.

  “Your father doesn’t like me.” He said it as though puzzled. Kane was a charmer, and most people responded warmly to him. He had his enemies, of course, but they were usually political. His eyes held a question: What did I do?

  I thought I knew. It wasn’t anything Kane did; it was who he was. But that was Dad’s problem, not Kane’s, and I intended to have it out with my father as soon as Kane left.

  “I’m sorry he was rude. You know how some fathers are. He’s not used to the idea of me dating.”

  “Of you dating, or of you dating a werewolf?”

  Kane was right on the money, but I didn’t want to go there now. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever the issue, it’s his problem, not yours.” My demon mark twinged as I thought about how unfair Dad was being. Kane had dedicated his life to fighting discrimination. He shouldn’t have to face it from his girlfriend’s father. “I’ll make sure he understands that.”

  Kane pulled me into his arms for a kiss. “Thanks for standing by me. For saying what you said. Those are words I’ll never get tired of hearing.”

  So before he left, we said them again.

  WHEN KANE HAD GONE, I RETURNED TO THE KITCHEN. WITH each step across the living room, my irritation grew. My demon mark heated up to a slow burn, but the anger felt good. Dad had no right to judge Kane before he even knew him. It was an insult to both of us, and I wasn’t going to put up with it.

  I slammed open the kitchen door. “Dad,” I yelled, “you were totally out of line.”

  Two heads turned to me. Mab muttered something about more tea and went over to the sink. My father’s sharp, rainbow-eyed stare irritated me further. Okay, so it’s impossible for a falcon to look contrite, but all I could see was defiance.