Annnd then there was the damage control and cleanup of Bishop’s malanum driven massacre Valor did alone.
That’s exactly what Bishop thought of it as, too. No matter how many times Valor argued against it, Bishop could only look at what happened that night as nothing short of a massacre. People died by Bishop’s hands. Bishop saw it no other way. He’d killed innocents. Even if he had no control of his body, nor a single fragmented memory of doing it, it was his hands that had blood on them. It was his hands that were soaked in bleach and fresh paint because he insisted on helping Valor remove all traces of death and violence in the house afterwards.
Bishop blew out a long sigh. His alpha had gone to great lengths to save Bishop from being completely devoured by evil that night. Fuck, just hearing about how Valor showed up at Jack’s house and the fallout that happened there still made Bishop want to puke. Some weak piece of him was so relieved he had no recollection of anything that happened while he’d been possessed. He could hardly handle the knowledge of what happened, he knew damn well his sorry ass wouldn’t cope at all if he had the actually memory of it.
Why the hell was he thinking about this right now? Because you’re about to face your truth, fucker. You’re going to finally find the twins and see what you did to them. All their suffering is your fault.
Before he knew it, they were standing at the opening of the catacombs and Bishop’s throat grew tight. Shit.
“Ye doona have to come.”
“The hell I don’t, alpha.”
Valor gripped Bishop’s shoulder and squeezed. “Let me rephrase this. Ye canna come.”
Bishop blew up. “What?” he smacked Valor’s arm off his shoulder. “Fuck you, alpha. I’m doing this.” They glared at each other for several heartbeats. Bishop’s body started to tremble in fury. “You can’t do this alone.”
“And ye canna handle closed spaces.” Valor tried to push him back, away from the opening. “I have to keep my focus on the twins, I canna spare ye—
“Spare me?” oh fuck you fucking fucker fuckhead, “Spare me what? The time? The pity? The energy?”
“Your life,” Valor growled. “I canna spare you from your fears and your mind, Hound. We all have our limits. You’ve reached yours and going in there,” Valor pointed behind him at the opening, “that’s going to unravel the small amount of sanity you’ve managed to regain since the malanum possession.”
Bishop’s heart beat so hard, it felt like it was going to explode. “I’m fucking going!” Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. “I’m the reason they’re there, Valor. I get that you want to protect your pack and that my sorry ass is all that’s left of it, but you can’t stop me from doing this. If that was the case, you’d have left me home, but you didn’t,” he shoved Valor back a couple steps, “You didn’t leave me—”
The look on Valor’s face coupled with his silence was like a punch in the balls. “Oh my fucking god.” Bishop stiffened, “You… you fucking brought me with you to take me away from her, didn’t you?”
Val almost looked away. His gaze flickered with hesitation. “Aye.”
Bishop’s hands balled into fists. He had no words. Rage blazed inside his veins.
“I mean to keep ye both safe. Leaving ye behind with her wouldna have done anyone any favors.”
“You don’t trust me,” Bishop tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “I can’t fucking believe this, Valor. After all we’ve… after everything that…” he couldn’t breathe. His heart broke into a million shards.
“It’s because of everything we’ve been through.” Valor’s voice was much softer now. He took a step closer. Then another and another, until he was inches away from Bishop. Val grabbed him by the nape of the neck and brought their foreheads together. “I’ve seen ye at your worst, Hound. And I’ve loved ye even when ye didna think ye deserved it. I’ve gone to great lengths to save ye from yourself because I love ye.”
Valor squeezed the back of Bishop’s neck even harder, massaging it in a meditative way. Bishop continued to glare at his alpha and keep his mouth shut. He was too jacked up with fury to talk.
“I trust ye, Hound. Always have. Always will.” Val paused and cleared his throat. “If I’d have left ye home, you’d have found a way here anyway and Tilly would have followed ye. I couldna allow that. If I brought ye, at least I’d have back up for when I get the twins out of there. You’d be the first to see that they’re neither dead nor harmed by your hands, which I ken is the nightmare that haunts ye every night.” He continued to keep Bishop’s forehead pressed to his. “After everything we’ve been through - not just lately, but since the beginning, ye should ken I’ve only ever done what’s best for the pack. Ye going in the catacombs is not what’s best for the pack. Ye being here to help is. So stay. Here.”
“No.”
“Bishop—”
“No!” He grabbed Valor’s throat and squeezed the shit out of it. “I need to do this. I need to be a stronger Hound, god damnit. For –,” he caught himself, “For us, for the future.” He gulped down the rock in his throat, “I’m not a man who can sit back and watch the fight. I never was and you know that. I have to do this for the same reason I had to pry up the blood soaked carpet, paint the walls white, and pour gallons of bleach on everything my madness touched in our house. I have to do this, because there is no other choice for me. This pack is all I fucking have, Val. It’s not just yours, it’s ours. I hold just as much responsibility as you do here. If I—” fuck his chest felt too tight, “If I can’t keep up, then go on without me. I’ll have your back. I will always…” deep breath, deep breath, “I’ll always have your back, Valor. Just like you’ve always had mine.”
Valor’s shoulders sagged and he yanked Bishop into a stiff embrace. “Maiden, Mother and Crone,” he grumbled. “Alright. Alright.”
They stared at the graffiti covered entrance. Valor pulled out his cell and tapped a few buttons, pulling up a map of the catacombs. “This is all we have to go in with and my battery is nearly dead.”
“We need flashlights then and I don’t have my cell with me so,” Bishop looked around like they were going to find a flashlight stand. They’d left in such a rush, neither of them had really thought about the supplies they needed beyond the weapons strapped to their bodies.
“Let’s get better prepared and find our pack, Hound.”
They set off to get what they needed to go on the most important hunt of their life.
Chapter 43
Ten hours. That’s how long it took for Tilly’s plane to touch down. Not bad, really, but it was ten hours of being unable to do a damn thing and that was torture. Grabbing her bag, she got off the plane and asked for Paul and Dwayne to sit tight because she didn’t plan to stay long. No, this wasn’t a shopping trip, she’d said, but she didn’t know how long she’d be either.
Tilly shoved her cell, with a fully charged battery, into her backpack along with a spare charger. This wasn’t her first trip here. It wasn’t even her second or third. Tilly had been in those catacombs several times and knew the underground city like the back of her hand.
Thanks to her father’s willingness to spoil his children, and Tilly’s obsession with the dead, she’d been in the Catacombs of Paris multiple times. Exchanging currency before leaving the airport, she had enough to get a taxi to the catacombs and back.
Hailing a cab just outside the airport, Tilly climbed in and told the driver where she wanted to go. The traffic was heavy, horns honked, people yelled, and pedestrians struggled to cross the street without getting hit. What the hell? The traffic lights were all blinking, the taxi driver cursed as they slammed their brakes, almost causing another accident.
Crazy.
The trip should have taken a little less than an hour. Instead, it took two. By the time she got to where she needed to be, Tilly was so fucking frustrated, she was ready to spit tacks. Then the driver told her the fare total and she growled – actually growled – at the bastard. He was trying to charg
e her double the right amount.
She tossed the correct amount of money at him and got out, flipping him the bird. What was he going to do? Chase her down? Cuss her out? Report her for not allowing him to swindle her ass? Fuck him.
Tilly slammed the door shut and walked away with the driver still yelling at her. Again, this wasn’t her first time. She knew the games folks played and wasn’t about to be a victim of a greedy asshole.
Finally, she reached the entrance of the catacombs. Dark, cold concrete surrounded her and the colorful graffiti was like an urban welcome sign. Boosting the backpack on her shoulders, she took a deep breath and walked forward. Being in here was such a no-no, but it never stopped her from diving into the underground world. In fact, being forbidden was part of the draw.
Over 200 km of tunnels and bones beckoned her to come inside. The place was tightly patrolled, but Tilly knew how to sneak in. She was by no means a cataphile, but she had a tremendous respect for those who were and had made a few acquaintances during her days exploring the tunnels before. She stared up at the entrance to the legal tours. No way would it be possible for the twins to be tucked away in the controlled sections of the tunnels. She needed to go a little deeper and that required a shortcut. The tourist section wouldn’t get her there, but the back way would.
She headed to an old train station littered with more graffiti. Pictures of strange faces and poems decorated the concrete walls. Sticking to the railroad tracks, she grabbed the straps to her backpack and set off to find the hole in the wall.
Yes, an actual hole. The dirt dugout at the base of the structure was smooth and worn from all the trespassers. Shit, she hoped she could still fit. Why did donuts have to stick to one’s thighs for so long?
Tilly breathed deep, her palms growing sweaty, her nerves starting to get the better of her as she slipped into the tunnel. Rock and dirt, graffiti and trash, it all added to the creepy factor. She heard small voices echoing from behind her and saw another group of people entering from the same place she just had. They stared at one another.
It was the first time Tilly actually got afraid. She was in the catacombs by herself. There was safety in numbers and, well, shit, this was a really stupid fucking plan. What the hell was she doing here?
Being a badass, that’s what.
Normal people would take one look at this situation and say, “Oh shit, this is seriously scary.” People like Tilly were more like, “Hold my beer.”
Digging out her flashlight, she clicked it on and looked around. Somewhere, in this massive grave, were Hell Hounds. Valor and Bishop were in here somewhere. The thought eased her anxiety tremendously.
I can howl if I have to. They’ll hear me.
That might not be true though. Squeezing her eyes shut, Tilly had a serious case of what the fucks. What the fuck was she thinking? What the fuck was she going to do? What the fuck was going to happen? What the fuck was Valor and Bishop going to think once she found them?
Because she would find them.
And they would find the twins.
Tilly had no idea why this meant so much to her. It’s not like she really knew these guys. She didn’t have an attachment to them, nor did she owe them a damned thing anymore. On top of all that, her being here wasn’t what they wanted, it’s why they left her ass at their house. Yet, she couldn’t help but think there was a reason for all this. A reason why the twins came to her and not them. Baz had somehow sought her out. Was drawn to her. And for her to have been able to summon his soul? That had been a motherfucking miracle. One that even Jack said was most likely an impossibility when she’d talked with him on the phone about how to get it done.
Shit like that just didn’t work out so conveniently without a reason - Not even in movies or romance novels.
Maybe, in some twisted ridiculous way, Tilly was here for selfish reasons. This was just as much about her as it was about the pack. She needed to do something to earn a get out of jail free card for when she died.
Tilly hadn’t spent her life playing house and making good things happen. She’d spent it in much sinister and forbidden ways. Every spell she cast grew darker and darker – much like these tunnels she was slinking through right now.
Hit a dead end, you try a new way. Stumble and fall, you bleed and get back up.
God, this was depressing. Her life was exactly like the catacombs – cold, hard, and lonely. And what was it all based around? Death.
Oh the irony.
She kept aware of her surroundings and climbed down, down, down, deeper into the dark madness. At some point, the graffiti and manmade hangout areas were gone. Trudging through water that came up to her ankles, her pants were soaked and she was freezing cold.
Bracing herself with her hand on the wall, Tilly slowly trudged further into the tunnels. Her heart started pounding. This was a mistake. A huge, big, massive mistake.
She should have told her sister where she was going. She should have told Paul and Dwayne too. Why was she so fucking stupid?
It wasn’t stupidity that kept her secrets, it was fear. Fear of being judged or put away for her crazy ideas. Fear of being asked if she wanted help. Fear of the possibility of someone actually caring about what she did and what would happen to her.
She’d spent her life with no attachments – friends or otherwise. All she had was her sister, and lately, Tilly had been pulling away from her too.
Detachment was a lovely coping mechanism.
That’s what you do when you die. You detach. Break away from the life you had. Hide from the living. Keep to yourself in your cold and dismal grave.
Damn, why was shit getting so heavy in her head? She needed to snap the fuck out of it.
The tunnel curved and gave her choices of which way to go. Thus far, she knew where to go, but pretty soon her path would become completely foreign to her. Tilly hadn’t a clue where Valor and Bishop would be, but took some comfort in the fact that they’d have to arrive at the same place eventually.
She shivered. There was a vibe to this place. If you were sensitive enough to feel it, you could navigate through. The Hell Hounds would definitely pick up on the energy here. She hoped.
Shit, this was such a stupid idea.
A flicker of something up ahead snagged her attention. A shadow moved from around the corner and Tilly’s heart slammed into her chest. Big build, all black, deep voice… “Bishop?” A small relief nestled into her gut as she took another step forward. She didn’t want to shine the light directly into his face so she pointed it at his black pants.
“I knew it,” she smiled.
The man in front of her stumbled forward, the shallow water splashing around him. He dropped down and scrambled towards her on his hands and knees. Tilly froze watching the figure coming at her like an animal.
Not Bishop! Not! Bishop!
Tilly’s eyes peeled wide and she screamed.
Chapter 44
Valor and Bishop entered the catacombs through the legal tour. It was all dusty stone, walls of skulls, pillars of crumbling bones and signs about the dismal fate of the dead. They’d gone through it in their ghost forms. This way, barriers couldn’t stop them.
Valor had to give Bishop credit - He said he was going to do this and so far he was, even though the Hound struggled every step of the way. Sweat poured down the Hell Hound’s temples. His t-shirt was soaked.
Valor led the way and whispered words of encouragement whenever he could hear Bishop struggling to breathe.
He didn’t envy Bishop right now. The Hound had been buried alive and died trying to claw his way out of an early grave. This was nothing more than a glorified tomb, and looking at the map of the catacombs, they were several miles deep into the labyrinth now.
Darkness wasn’t an old friend to them. Darkness was a cloak for malanum, which they’d already killed fifteen of down here so far.
Never in Valor’s life was he so grateful to see their enemy. He didn’t go after a single one of them – he’d lef
t each evil motherfucker for Bishop to handle. It was a small reprieve from the madness he was fighting. A balance of sorts.
The Hound would want to protect – so Bishop’s instincts kicked in every time they discovered a malanum down here. Valor would stand back and watch the show of fine form and deadly skills that Bishop had in spades. No malanum stood a chance.
Hours passed and Valor was starting to give up on the infinitesimal amount of hope he’d had when they first started this mission. No matter which way they turned, they got more lost. Scents were confusing. Darkness crowded them. Echoes, wind whistling, the stale scent of old death and rock. The energy felt just as strange. Like little gnats crawling upon your skin.
Six malanum hovered in yet another dead end. This time, Valor pulled out his blade and stepped next to Bishop, ready to take them down. Bishop’s body trembled fiercely, the growl that rumbled out of his throat crackled and grew deeper, louder. He was turning animal in this darkness.
Valor allowed it to happen.
If Bishop needed to tuck his humanity away to survive this, then so be it. It was his decision to come down here. It was his decision to face this fear. If he wanted to lose his mind to regain his pack, then that was on Bishop. It wouldn’t be the first time they had to drag the Hound back from the brink of madness.
One way or another, in this pack, they were all damaged dogs.
A small cry captured Val’s attention. Next to him, Bishop froze and the growl died in his throat. Malanum crept around – some on the ceiling, some on the walls, and one walked right up to him.
“Houndsssss,” the bastard hissed. “How did you escape?”
Bishop rushed at the malanum and tackled it to the ground. While he rolled around punching and choking the damned thing, Valor took on the two that dropped from the ceiling. It was a lot of fists, barking, snarling, and blood – both black and red spilled. In the end, the two Hell Hounds stood victorious. They opened a Hell hole in the wall because the tunnel was too narrow for it to be on the floor. They didn’t want to risk falling in while they fought this last malanum.
Hard to Find (Hell Hounds Harem Book 4) Page 32
