How the fuck did things spiral so out of control for him? Valor still wasn’t completely balanced, but what they did was enough to take the edge off… for now. He didn’t have the heart to push things further with Tilly, and he’d never in his life done something with Bishop in the goddamn room as a motherfucking participant before.
Valor barged into his bedroom and shut the door. Scrubbing his face with both hands, he growled at nothing in particular. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Tilly’s face. The way her head tilted back and her eyes burned with desire as she took him into her mouth. He kept telling himself that this was only to gain some balance. But that was a lie. He wanted her the moment he first saw her. Unfortunately, so did Bishop.
Would Valor be willing to step aside and allow his Hound the chance to be with her? Yes. Was he going to? Fuck no.
Valor did everything for his pack, but he had no intentions of sacrificing Tilly. Something in him howled for her on a primal level. It made no goddamn sense, either. This was nothing more than lust at first sight. She wasn’t even going to be around much longer.
All the more reason to love her while ye can, his instincts said.
He stuffed his legs back into his pants and zipped them. His dick was still hard. Valor realized that even though he was slightly better now, he would never be fully right again. No amount of sex was going to cure his sorry ass. No amount of hunting would either.
Are you two okay? Are you better now? Tilly’s concern hadn’t been for herself in her bedroom. Her focus was on them. Gods, what a woman. How could one be so selfless? She might have agreed to the threesome for her own self-preservation, but somehow, during the madness of so much pleasure, the woman’s priorities had shifted.
Was he okay? Not at all. Without his pack back under this roof, safe and sound, Valor was never going to be okay. What made it worse was, in the throes of passion, Valor hadn’t thought of the twins at all. His focus was on saving the beauty who knelt down and gave as much pleasure as she’d received.
A small knock on the door had him reaching for a fresh shirt and tugging it on. He felt too vulnerable to answer it without being fully clothed. He cleared his throat and smoothed back his hair, “Come in.”
Tilly popped her head in first and looked around the room.
“Come all the way in, mo leannan.”
“I just wanted to thank you,” she was in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt big enough to hang off one shoulder. Both pieces of clothing belonged to Bishop. “You saved my life.”
He didn’t see it that way. She’d saved their asses too. “Ye look cold,” he said gruffly.
Tilly rubbed her arms, “The window in my room is open and it’s like forty degrees out.”
“Ye can shut the window if ye like.”
“No, I don’t want him to feel trapped.”
Valor froze. “He’s told you much about himself then.”
Tilly walked over and sat down on a chair in the corner of his room. “And you haven’t really told me anything about yourself.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
He watched her cautiously. Tilly looked around his bedroom. It was decorated in deep crimson fabrics, furnished with mahogany, and the lights were dimmed so it felt sensual and warm.
“Red must be your favorite color,” she smiled. “It suits you if it is, Foxy Boy.”
Yes, red was his favorite and not because of his deep auburn hair. “It would be any warrior’s favorite color. It’s what ye see the most of in battle. Everyone bleeds red.”
She tucked her legs under her luscious ass. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
Valor turned his back to her and walked over to his dresser to grab socks. “What?”
“How did you die?”
He should have known that was coming. Valor braced his hands against the top of his dresser and stared at her through the reflection in his mirror. “Violently.”
“In battle?”
“Aye.”
Tilly bit her lip. Her cheeks reddened. “What was it like? To die… violently.”
He had a feeling he knew why she was asking this and his insides squirmed. “It was verra painful.” He turned around and leaned against his dresser with his arms crossed over his chest, “and quick compared to what others suffered.”
She unleashed a shaky breath.
Valor walked over to her. He bent down on one knee and reached for her hand, “If I can save ye from that, I will, lass.”
“I don’t want to die horribly,” she sniffled.
I don’t want ye to die at all, he thought. She was too young. So fresh. So wild. So… precious.
“Can you tell me how you died?” Tilly squeezed his hand, “Just… give me the worst of it. I want to know what to expect, just in case.”
“You willna die the same as I did, mo leannan.”
“I still want to know.”
Why? Why was she so fixated on this? “Alright.” He released her hand, and took a seat on the edge of his bed. He would give her the short version of his treacherous death. The basic facts.
“My clan was attacked. I watched as my world was stripped away, one clan member at a time, all around me. In the end, I was run through with a broadsword. Several, in fact.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. His death never rattled him, it was what he witnessed right before it that haunted his worst dreams at night. Sara, screaming her rage with her last dying breath. A woman who meant the world to him and whom he could not save from dying savagely before his eyes.
Valor looked away from Tilly. Fuck, this was harder than he thought it would be.
“The pain was sharp. The first stab felt like an explosion. Stars burst in my vision and every molecule in my body screamed. Then I was stabbed again and again. The pain dulled with every slice. I dropped, my face in the mud, and was gone.”
When he looked over at her, Tilly had tears streaming down her cheeks. Well now he felt like an asshole for telling her the truth. “I shouldna have told ye this.”
“I’m sorry,” she swiped her tears away before he could do it for her, “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s I who am sorry, lass. I should have not been so… detailed.”
“No,” she wiped her nose with the back of her hand, “I’m not sorry I asked. I’m sorry you went through that. I’m sorry you weren’t saved.”
“Och, mo leannan,” he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. “Death comes for us all. No one is ever saved from that.” Tilly fell apart in his arms. It made him feel all torn up inside.
“This isn’t fair,” she cried into his chest.
No, it wasn’t. A blood curse like hers was a terrible, evil thing indeed. There had to be some way to save her. Maybe Lucifer had forgotten something? Maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly when he’d told Valor there was no hope for her. The Devil hadn’t been himself lately – his mind no doubt preoccupied with the missing book, the need for new Gate Keepers, and his own imbalance. Maybe there was a way to save their girl.
“Would ye wish to be a Hell Hound if ye had the chance?” It was a shot in the dark. Sara was the only female Hound, but –
“No,” she said, “I don’t want to sell my soul to Satan. I don’t want to be damned.”
A coldness washed over Valor. Damned. Was that what she thought Hell Hounds were?
“I shouldn’t have brought this up.” Tilly pushed away from him and wiped her face again. “Let’s forget about this okay? I ummm, I just…” she sighed and walked over to the door. With her hand on the knob she said, “I was going to make something to eat for me and Bishop. Are you hungry?”
Valor swallowed another lump in his throat. There she goes, trying to take care of them again. “Aye,” he said softly. “I’m famished.” Not for food, he thought, but for more of you.
Tilly smiled, the change in her was instant. “I make a mean bowl of cereal.”
Valor laughed. “Sounds delicious.”
She opened the door and gasped. “V-v
-valor.”
He stepped up behind her and looked out at nothing. Her aura was radiating with fear. “What is it? What do ye see?”
Tilly took a small step forward, her one hand outstretched behind her to grab Valor’s, the other reaching forward into an empty hallway. “Oh my god,” she gasped. “Where are you? Tell us where you are!”
Valor looked everywhere and still saw nothing. His instincts were screaming to do something, but he didn’t know what the Hell to do!
“Please! Tell us where you are! Can you hear me?” Tilly moved forward, stopped, and then jerked back with a yelp. “No, no, no, no!” She spun around and looked up and down the hall.
Bishop ran out of his bedroom with a blade in his hand. “What the fuck is going on? Is there a malanum in the house?” The Hound was on defense, one hundred percent prepared to attack the intruder and protect their woman.
“No,” Valor said numbly, “It wasna a malanum.”
“What the fuck was it then? Christ on a cracker,” Bishop grabbed Tilly and brought her into his chest, “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost or some shit.”
“She did,” Valor said. “Didn’t ye, mo leannan?”
Bishop backed off enough for her to answer with, “I just saw one of the twins.”
“What?” Bishop stepped back even further and looked around the hallway. “Where? Are they still here?”
“N-n-no,” she said.
Whatever she’d seen spooked her. Dread shrouded Valor as he watched Tilly’s aura swirl in ugly colors. She was scared shitless. Valor felt all his emotions fade like fog burning off by the sun. There was no feeling in his tone when he asked, “Was he turning black?”
Tilly’s mouth clamped shut. With a big, shaky breath, her gaze rose until she stared at Valor. “Black water was pouring out of his mouth and his eyes were… unnatural. They were purple and pink and red and black.”
“Awww fuck, fuck, fuck!” Bishop panicked. “We’re running out of time, Val!”
“I have an idea,” Tilly said, “but I’m not sure how to do a part of it. Can you call Jack?”
Valor didn’t even ask what her idea was. He swiftly moved to get his cell phone, dialed the number, and handed the phone to Tilly. When he heard what she was asking about, Valor wanted to protest, but bit his tongue.
As she asked Jack questions, Bishop also realized what she was going to try to do and he shook his head at Valor, silently begging his alpha to not let her continue. Valor ignored his Hound’s pleas to step in and stop her.
Tilly hung up and frowned. “He doesn’t know how to do it, either. Damnit!” She ran her fingers angrily through her hair. “Okay, okay, I know what to do,” her hands trembled, “but you’re—” she bit her bottom lip and her cheeks flushed. “You…”
“What, lass? Speak!”
“You’re not going it like, but you’re going to have to trust me, okay?”
Chapter 38
Baz’s body jolted when his spirit slammed back into him. He coughed and black liquid spewed out of his mouth, spraying his twin in the face. Drake slapped his back a couple times while he continued to choke. Once Baz was able to catch his breath, he blinked the tears back and searched for the child who was imprisoned with them.
Something was very wrong. His body was shutting down in a strange way. His vision was so blurry it was hard to make out objects, and even though they were in nearly complete darkness, he felt like the one meager candle lit in the corner of the room was too fucking bright.
“I saw her,” he coughed.
“Same woman?”
“Yeah,” Baz rolled onto his hands and knees. “Where’s the kid? I can’t see her.” He wanted to keep an eye on her at all times.
“She’s in the corner,” Drake frowned. “She’s fine. Not like she can go anywhere.”
Baz wasn’t so sure about that. She didn’t act right for being a young kid who just watched her twin get murdered and also happened to have her tongue cut out at some point. The girl was awfully calm and unafraid, especially considering she was trapped with two strange men who were naked in a cold and dark room. This place was nothing more than a cave – dank, primitive, and fucking gruesome.
“Did she respond to you this time?” Drake helped his brother stand.
Baz swayed on his feet and leaned against the cold stone, “Yeah,” he coughed, “Yeah, she saw me. She tried to ask me something, but I couldn’t make it out.”
“Where was she?” Drake asked. “Could you figure out her location?”
Every time they tried to astral project, their soul would automatically be drawn to this same strange woman. It was never in the same place, either. And, as far as they could tell, she wasn’t calling them with some kind of magic. Actually, she seemed just as shocked and terrified to see them as they were surprised and confused to see her. Each and every time.
“I think,” Baz blinked hard and fast, “she was at our house.”
Drake stiffened, his one hand clenched around Baz’s arm to help him stay standing. “Are you sure, brother?”
“Yeah. I was in our hallway. Upstairs.”
“Did you see Bishop? Valor?”
“I only saw her. Just… her.” Baz slumped forward, his legs giving up and buckling. Drake caught him before he fell.
The girl crawled over on her hands and knees. She grabbed Baz’s leg to get his attention, then bit the inside of her wrist, drew blood and dipped her finger into it.
“What the hell, kid? What are you—” Words failed Drake as he watched the child draw across Baz’s stomach. “Holy hell, what are you?”
The child didn’t respond, she just kept finger painting.
This was probably a very bad idea. No, scratch that, this was most definitely a terrible idea. Tilly turned to Valor, “I need salt, all the candles you have, a marker, a knife, and a bowl.”
Bishop groaned, “I don’t like this.”
“Do you want your pack back or not, Hound?” Tilly felt strong. Confident. It’s like she’d been training her whole life for a shot like this. A chance to save someone, even if it wasn’t who she thought it would be. And it felt good, it felt right. “Get me what I need, Bishop. Let’s get this done.”
The Hound obeyed, growling and cussing his way down the steps.
“This is dangerous, lass. Ye ken what you’re trying to attempt?”
She noticed Valor wasn’t trying to stop her, just warn her. “This ain’t my first rodeo, Alpha.”
His eyes darkened. “You’ve called upon the Loa before?”
“No,” she looked down, “someone else.”
“Who?”
She felt her face grow hot. Valor was making her feel like a child – or maybe this just felt like a flashback. “Zaza.”
It was obvious by the look on his face, Valor didn’t know who that was. She’d have rather not used the cursed Loa, but he was her last hope at finding the right spin of magic since Jack didn’t know the spell. There wasn’t enough time to research it – not after what she saw what Baz looked like.
Tilly turned and started towards the steps. Holding onto the banister, she felt her courage rise with every step she descended. Bishop was in the kitchen still rummaging through the drawers to find a marker. “I can only find this.” He held up a piece of chalk.
“That’ll do.” Tilly snatched it from his hand and started drawing the alphabet on top of their kitchen table.
“I really don’t like this,” Bishop said for the tenth time. “Val we can’t allow her to risk herself.”
“It’s her decision,” Valor growled as he watched her mark up their nine thousand dollar, hand-carved table. The chalk didn’t stick to it very well, but it was enough. “We have several wards up, this Zaza may not be able to get in, lass.”
“He will.” Tilly didn’t look up as she drew all over their table, “Wards don’t stop him. He’s slicker than snot on a door knob.”
Bishop left the kitchen and came back a few minutes later
carrying two daggers and a gun. He handed the gun and one blade to Valor. “Just in case.”
She wasn’t about to say Zaza couldn’t get stabbed. She had no idea if the spirit could or not, but if anyone was able to do some damage to him, it would be these Hounds. Tilly just hoped it didn’t come down to that. The last thing she needed was a pissed of Zaza.
Tilly lit the candles and poured salt on the floor around the table. Next, she yanked out a few of her hairs and placed them in the bowl. Taking the small knife Bishop retrieved for her, she placed it at the center of her makeshift Ouija board. She lit the hair in the bowl on fire, placed both her forefingers and middle fingers on the handle of the small knife and made sure the tip of the blade was pointed at Hello.
“Zaza, Zaza, Zaza, I summon thee.” Nothing happened, of course.
The schmuck.
“Come on now, I know you hear me, damnit.” Tilly repeated the summons three more times.
Valor cleared his throat, “Like I said lass, this Zaza may not be able to cross our threshold with our charms and wards.”
“We had to amp them up a few months ago,” Bishop explained.
Tilly didn’t care about their wards or why on earth they had to ramp up their magical barriers. She knew damn well Zaza heeded no warnings and not even an ocean made of holy water could keep him from swimming to what called him.
“Fuck it,” she hissed, “You’re such an asshole, you know that?” She thumped her fist on the table for good measure. What a dick Zaza was! “I’m telling you right now,” no good piece of shit, “If you don’t come here when I call you,” dark ass demonic fuckhead, “then I swear to God I will tell,” trying to play all hard to get acting like you can’t hear me say your name, “Lucifer what you did in 1983 to that goat.”
Tilly’s arm jerked as the blade in her hand jumped around the chalk letters. She stabbed each one, her blade controlled by the asshole she’d summoned. “Y-o-u w-o-u-l-d-n-t d-a-r-e.”
“Don’t. Tempt. Me. Zaza.”
The table shook in fury. Bishop and Valor both jumped between Tilly and the table and started growling and snarling like angry wolves.
Hard to Find (Hell Hounds Harem Book 4) Page 28
