Hard to Find (Hell Hounds Harem Book 4)

by Briana Michaels

  “I’m so sorry, Val. I’m trying. I am.”

  Then why did it feel like she was playing with him? Chloe came highly recommended and he normally would take everything she said with a wee grain of salt, but lately her calls were nothing more than false alarms and a waste of time. His hopes had been raised and shot down so often, Valor was beginning to build walls around his heart.

  Chloe, a psychic, was his best shot at finding the twins. No one else had come close to even sensing them, but this woman seemed to catch a whisper from her “other sources” every now and then. Lately, her calls became more frequent, which only raised Valor’s hopes higher, but every time he went where she instructed, he was left alone and hopeless by the end of the hunt. It was a fruitless effort now. The twins might never be found, but damn if he didn’t pick up on the first ring and always go running to wherever Chloe told him to go.

  “We’ve been to every place ye tell us to go, lass. The twins are never there.”

  He heard her sigh into the phone. “I know and I’m sorry. I don’t mean to do this to you, but I’m literally giving you everything I see, when I see it.”

  “But ye see nothing!” he hadn’t meant to yell it, truly. Maiden, Mother and Crone, he was so fed up, he thought he’d snap.

  “Val, listen…”

  “No, ye listen to me, lass. I’ve paid ye a small fortune for ye to help us find the rest of my pack. Ye send me on wild goose chases and have been for weeks. Ye tell me to go to The Blue Lizard, and like a fool I go. But they’re not there. They haven’t been anywhere ye send me or Bishop. I’ve got enough to deal with already woman, without ye adding more to my plate by feeding Bishop false leads and glimmers of hope only to have it all crash down upon our heads when nothing turns up. Your services are no longer required.” He hung up and stuffed his phone back into his pocket.

  It started ringing again.

  Blast that woman! Growling, Valor pulled his phone back out and snarled, “I SAID NO MORE!”

  “Val? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  Bishop’s voice was like pouring ice cold water on Valor’s frayed nerves. “Bishop, where are ye?”

  “Leaving Tilly’s apartment.”

  Valor stiffened. “You’re there now?”

  “Well, not anymore. I’m about a block away. Heading east.”

  “Did ye find out anything?”

  “A little,” Bishop said quietly. “Where are you?”

  “I’ll be home soon. Meet me there.”

  “Not a chance and you know it.”

  Valor frowned. He knew that was a long shot. Bishop didn’t like being at home any longer than what was absolutely necessary. Not with all that’s happened in that house. And they weren’t about to sell the damn house anytime soon. Not with the twins still out there somewhere. What if they were being held prisoner somewhere and escaped? The first place they’d go would be back to their home.

  Or Hell.

  No, knowing the twins, they’d return to their pack before they saw the Devil. Assuming they ever returned, which… Gods, it seemed less and less likely.

  Was this what it felt like when Kalen lost Sara? This terribly heavy hollowness taking up all the space in your heart - It numbed you and turned your world into shades of grey.

  “Fine. Meet me at The Blue Lizard then.” Valor hung up and pulled onto a side street to park. Guess he and Bishop were in for a long night of hunting again. Valor parked and stepped out into the night. The wind whipped through his dark red hair and felt good on his skin.

  He was the first to arrive, so he surveyed the space for threats. Bishop showed up about five minutes later and Valor gave him the signal that everything was clear and they both took a seat at the bar. Valor flicked his finger to get the bartender’s attention and ordered two shots of whisky. Once poured and placed before them, Valor laid a hand on his glass and ran his finger along the rim. "So what did ye find out, Hound?"

  Bishop sucked down his drink before answering, "She's definitely something."

  Valor took a small sip and carefully placed his glass back down. Gods this cheap shit was like kerosene. “Did ye find out she was other?"

  "No, not that I can confirm. But," he frowned, "she had a very interesting book sitting on her coffee table."

  "Go on."

  "It was ancient, Val. And for black magic."

  A deadly growl rippled out of Val's throat, "Is it Lucifer's book?" The Devil had a precious book stolen from him during the malanum attacks. No one had found it yet and the Angels were still looking for it.

  "No, I don't think so. It's not old enough. And not the right size going off the specs Lucifer gave us. But it was definitely rare and dangerous, I believe."

  "You think she’s a practitioner of dark magic?" If that was the case, then perhaps they could use her to find the twins. Any other time, Valor would give the order to stay away from her. But not now. He would do anything to find the rest of his pack. Black magic included. He could be judged later for his actions, pay the price when it was all done. He didn't give a shit. He just wanted his pack back. "Why are ye here and not bedding her right now, Hound?"

  "She kicked me out."

  Valor paused, his drink halfway to his lips, and he placed the glass back down. "Why?"

  "No clue. One minute she was asking me to stay, the next, she was pushing me out the damned door."

  "Did ye say something to her that would cause her to react in such a way?"

  Bishop snarled, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

  "I mean ye no offense, but we both know you're off lately. I doona care that the black flames helped ye find some sense, ye still need to fight and fuck. Ye've done neither, so I can only assume ye scared her or insulted her in some fashion, even if it was unintentional."

  Bishop slammed his fist on the bar and glared at Valor. "I didn't do a goddamned thing."

  "Then why did she make ye leave?"

  "I don't fucking know!"

  They sat in silence, both brewing with frayed nerves and hair trigger tempers.

  "She seemed scared." Bishop swiftly shoved his finger in Val's face, "Not of me, so don't even ask, asshole. But she acted like... I don't know... like something scared the shit out of her. Something I couldn't see."

  Valor's instincts roared to life. "What direction was she facing? The window? The door?" Valor wondered if Tilly's aura changed like it had when he saw her the other night, but Bishop couldn't read auras so there was no point in asking him what it looked like.

  "I searched her whole place, inside and out. I sensed nothing, Val. I don't get it."

  "You must return to her."

  "And say what? I lost my in, Valor. I can't stalk her, it'll freak her out and we'll get nowhere. Not to mention, she's not our priority right now, the twins are."

  "Which is precisely why I want ye to go back to her, Hound." Valor took another sip of his drink and continued to stare straight ahead. Gods the cheap whisky tasted like fiery piss. "We need that book."

  "You want me to steal it?"

  "I didna say steal. Get it however ye can. Borrow it, pay for it, do whatever ye must to get your hands on it and bring it to me. I want to know what's in it, perhaps it'll help us find the twins."

  "I told you," Bishop leaned in and snarled, "It wasn't a safe book. It was black magic, Val."

  Valor placed a fifty on the bar and spun around, "Do it, Bishop." He hopped off his stool, his head cast down as he growled, "I'm hunting for the night. Go back and get that book, Hound. It will either be a waste of time, or the answer to our prayers. Either way, get it and we'll find out. I want the twins home and I'm going to do all that's in my power to see it done."

  "Me too," Bishop said quietly.

  "Then get that fucking book and keep close to Tilly. My instincts are roaring her name." Valor disappeared into the crowd.

  The twins laid on the floor - one face up, the other face down. Their senses were so dulled they couldn't smell the dried urine nor th
e coppery blood dried in layers on their skin.

  "You... okay... D?"

  "Mmmph."

  Sebastian tried to crack open one eye but his eyelashes were coated in crusty blood. "We need to… get out of here."

  Drake half-chuckled, half-moaned. "But we're having so much fun."

  "I'm going... to try again… as soon as I get... my energy levels... up." Shit, his ribs must still be broken. Sebastian placed his hands flat on the ground and tried to rise. "Fuck, I hurt."

  Those bastards shoved so much magic in their systems it was a miracle he and Drake hadn't melted like birds in a barrel of acid. At the end of every failed experiment, the one in charge would do something to heal them enough to keep them breathing.

  Every night it was the same. The pain, the rage, the cutting and magic. The blood and power. The failure and cursing. Sebastian didn't know how much longer they could survive it.

  Thank fuck the twins shared a soul. It made the torture more bearable. Whoever was on the slab was soulless. The other twin would stay restrained, dangling or caged, and would harbor the soul for safekeeping. When the twins were switched out, so was their soul.

  Though it seemed to be their saving grace in this clusterfuck, it left little time or energy for them to escape. Instead, they would send a sliver of it out into the world, in search of their alpha, Valor, or their maker, Lucifer. But the sliver was growing weaker and weaker. The twins were being too used, too violated, too abused for them to keep the strength they needed to make actual contact with anyone.

  Hell was impassible for them. Somehow, their soul couldn't cross any spiritual barriers, which meant wherever they were was a real place in the human world. Right?

  Fuck his head hurt. Sebastian moaned and collapsed back down onto the ground, face first. "If this situation sucked any harder, I might just blow a load."

  Drake coughed up a wet laugh, wincing with the effort. "We've been through worse, Baz. We'll get through this."

  Their Hell Hound magic had been stripped first when they were captured. There was no ghosting out for them.

  "I can't hear anyone, can you?"

  "Mmmph, I think my eardrums were busted again with that last round," Drake rolled over and sat up, "At least my left ear seems to be in poor shape. Can't hear shit out of it." He crawled over to Sebastian and tried to roll him over and help him sit up. "Fuck, brother."

  Sebastian's stomach was cut wide open. Raw flesh was swollen and angry around the tissue trying to knit itself back together. Blood oozed from the wound, more black than red. "Shit," he groaned. "This can't be good."

  "We're running out of time," Drake growled.

  "We're running out of options."

  The twins stared at each other for a long moment. They only had two options to begin with: live or die.

  The sound of boots on stone broke their gaze and Drake looked behind him to see it was time to go another round with the hocus pocus shit. He made sure to brush his hand against Baz's arm long enough for their soul to go to him for safe keeping. Their enemy came in and dragged Drake by his ankles over to the slab again.

  Drake could have walked over but his legs were broken in so many places. Running wasn't an option today. Not that it ever was. And now they didn’t have enough energy to fight back at all.

  Live or Die, that was the choice they needed to make. So far, they'd chosen to live, but if they didn't get the hell out of here soon, dying might just win them over.

  Chapter 12

  Tilly woke up still in her closet. She’d stayed unconscious until the worst was over. With a shaky hand, she unlocked the closet door and tumbled out. The closet was like a sauna compared to the cool temps of the rest of her apartment. Crawling out on her hands and knees, she took in a couple big gulps of air and regained her clarity. "Good job, Tilly. You made it through another epic failure of black magic bullshit."

  She stripped out of her soiled clothes and went into the kitchen to grab the cleaning supplies. The floor was hardwood, which meant easy clean up. After a few spritz and swipes, Tilly cleaned up the mess in her closet and tossed her dirty clothes into the hamper. She was going to have to do laundry today. She'd run out of her favorite clothes and wasn't about to try and stuff her ass into a pair of jeans in her "one day I'll fit into these again pile." She'd had enough torture for one week, fuck you very much. Besides, the tattoo on her ass would scream for mercy if she tried to squeeze into a pair of her old jeans. As it was, the damn thing was starting to itch like crazy.

  After an hour’s worth of freshening up and getting into a maxi dress, Tilly called her sister. “Hey.”

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  Her chin trembled and her throat constricted. She hated calling her sister like this – it wasn’t that Vivian would mind, but now that she was married, Tilly felt like she was always disturbing them in some way. When Tilly didn’t say anything for a moment, Vivian’s voice dropped on the other end of the line, “Tilly, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” her voice cracked. “I just… wanted to let you know that…” that I just suffered again and for no good reason because I still don’t have answers. I just crawled out of a closet. I’m scared and alone and hate it. “I just wanted to let you know that they are running a cult movie classic marathon on TV tonight.”

  “Ohhhh! What channel?”

  “Two Twelve, I think.”

  “Awesome! I’m totally vegging all day. I’m still hungover from my birthday night out anyways, so this is perfect. Thanks!”

  Tilly swallowed the lump in her throat. She never told Vivian what it cost her every time she tried a new spell. Actually, Vivian didn’t know Tilly still dabbled in magic, nor did she believe in the family curse. Vivian lived in a world where everything was roses and rainbows.

  Tilly was more jaded than that. Dreams don’t come true just because you wished on a star. Hopes don’t float just because you toss them high. And lives were short, no matter how careful you tried to be.

  “Oh, shit, let me call you back. James just came in to serve me breakfast in bed.”

  “No need to call back. I’ll talk to you next weekend, okay? You’re still coming over right?”

  “Yup.”

  “Okay. Love you, Viv.”

  “Love you too,” she hung up.

  Tilly sat on her bed and looked around her apartment. She loved this place, but it was closing in on her right now. She couldn’t breathe. Going over to the window, she yanked it open and got bitch slapped with a cool breeze. Deciding she couldn’t stay put, Tilly snatched her jacket from the back of a chair and decided there was only one thing that could make her happy right now: Donuts and coffee from her favorite café.

  She took the steps gracefully, humming to herself, and hip bumped the lobby door to open it. The street was busy and the wind whipped her hair around. Yanking it into a pony tail, she bustled down the street and was all too grateful when she reached the café. Someone came out just as she was going in and Tilly was struck stupid for a moment.

  “After ye, lass.”

  Oh good god. A red headed Highlander with a big beard and cobalt blue eyes held the door for her while carrying a to-go cup. Normally she didn’t go for gingers, but this guy’s coloring was that of a dark sunset, you couldn’t buy that shade in a bottle.

  “Thanks,” she slid past him and tried to not look back. It was hard though, actually… fuck it, she looked back. The guy was gone.

  Tilly shook her head and made her way up to the counter, “Large dirty chai, and also a honey glazed and a toasted coconut, please.” It was a double donut kind of day. After handing money over, she stepped aside to wait for her food. The door opened three more times as other folks funneled in. And of all people to come in last, it was –

  “Bishop,” Tilly whispered.

  She must have said it too loud, even though she’d barely breathed his name, because the guy’s gaze sailed right to her as if he knew she’d be there.

  Awkwardly, Tilly smiled and wa
s so confucklebobbered, she didn’t hear the barista call her name. Tilly just kept staring at Bishop and he stepped out of the line, up to the counter, and grabbed her bag of donuts and drink. “Thanks,” he said to the annoyed woman behind the counter, then he spun around and gently pressed the bag and cup into her hands, “Smells delicious.”

  “It’s just donuts and a dirty chai.” Smooth, Tilly. Really fucking smooth.

  “Wasn’t talking about the food,” Bishop tossed her a killer smile and stepped back into line.

  Unsure of what to say, Tilly kind of shuffled into an empty seat and placed her food on the small table for two. Bishop faced the counter. He didn’t turn around to look at her either, which was just fine by her because she got a spectacular view of his ass from this angle. Was it weird that he was here right now? Maybe, but Tilly enjoyed weird things. She’d like to enjoy Bishop too.

  Maybe this would be a good opportunity to smooth things over a little bit since she made shit awkward by kicking him out of her apartment so suddenly last night. Was he mad about it? No, he didn’t act mad just now. Actually, he acted as if that whole thing hadn’t even happened.

  That’s weird, right? Fuck, she couldn’t think straight. Taking a sip of her dirty chai, she purred with content. Bishop finally made it to the front of the line and ordered. He pulled his wallet out from his back pocket and she stared at the tats on his hands and fingers. Not a lot of men could pull off having so much ink, but Bishop sure as fuck could. That man was work of art.

  It made her think of the little show me yours and I’ll show you mine game they’d played. Tilly suspected Bishop would strip naked and let her see every inch of his skin if she asked. He didn’t hide. He… well, he probably didn’t care. Bishop seemed like the kind of guy who was transparent and comfortable with himself.

  Shit, that was presumptuous of her. As was sitting at this table for two, expecting him to join her. When he grabbed his food, Bishop only winked and saluted her with his coffee cup.

  Wait, what the fuck? Was he leaving? Tilly’s heart slammed into her chest going all types of No, wait! Don’t leave! and then she simmered her ass down when she realized he was pulling his phone out and had gone to the corner of the café to answer it.