Chaos Conspiracy

by Holly Evans

  “Then we will initiate her,” Dante said matter-of-factly.

  “We don’t know what her magic is,” Kane said.

  Dante’s eyes hardened at that.

  “She has two strong and capable witches to help her,” he said slowly.

  “What am I going to do with the hound?” I asked.

  That topic wasn’t something I could afford to allow to keep going.

  “Push him to take his human form, and we’ll ask him,” Dante said.

  “I’ll bring down some jeans and a shirt, he’ll likely be naked,” Kane said.

  “You make it sound so simple, but I’m lost here,” I said.

  Dante softened. He took my hand in his and looked at the small tattoo on my inner wrist.

  “I’ll be here with you every step of the way,” he said softly.

  My heart fluttered as I looked into his ice blue eyes. It sounded like he was sticking around, and I found I liked that idea. Still, that would change if he ever found out about my magic.

  “So, how do I, er, push him to change?”

  The hound had curled up and hidden his face with his tail. He was in the far corner, trying to hide from the rest of us.

  “You feel him in the back of your mind?”

  “Yea, he’s a ball of sadness,” I said frowning.

  I’d caused a good deal of that sadness on him. I felt awful.

  “Hold onto it in your mind and press the idea of him taking on human form,” he said.

  “Isn’t that… cruel? Pushing him against his will?” I asked.

  “To an extent, but we need to hear his side of things,” Dante said.

  Kane returned with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt in his arms. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and pushed the thought of shifting into a human on the ball of dark sadness in the back of my mind. The ball squirmed and pushed back, but it finally relented. I opened my eyes to see a naked man standing where the hound had been. He kept his eyes down and his hands behind his back. Kane walked to him and gently pressed his clothes into the hound’s arms.

  “Put these on, you don’t want to freeze,” Kane said gently.

  The hound was an inch shorter than Kane, but he had a similar lean muscular build. He looked to be a year or two older than me, but he could have been anything from 26 to 206 - hounds had exceptionally long lives and didn’t really age past their prime. When he turned around and I saw the web of white scars on his back and across his shoulders, my heart broke for him.

  “Hounds are not treated well in the infernal realm. They are dogs of war, so their masters inflict pain and abuse on them for entertainment and in attempts to strengthen them,” Dante said, sadness flickering through his bloodsong.

  “I was deemed too small and weak,” the hound said quietly as he pulled the t-shirt over his head.

  “Do you have a name?” I asked.

  He turned to look at me with beautiful golden-hazel eyes.

  “Gideon.”

  I smiled and walked over to him, holding my hand out. “Wren.” I gestured to the guys. “Kane, and Dante.”

  Gideon frowned at my outstretched hand, deep creases formed between his eyebrows. Uncertainty formed in my mind.

  “We’re not going to hurt you,” I said softly.

  “When did you last eat?” Dante asked.

  “A few days ago,” Gideon said.

  “Come and sit,” I said gesturing to the sofa.

  He sat as far from me on the sofa as he could manage. Kane stood watching him with his hands in his pockets while Dante found food in the kitchen.

  “What is it you want, Gideon?” I asked.

  His frown deepened.

  “I want to please my new mistress,” he said cautiously.

  My heart broke.

  “What do you really want?” I pushed.

  “Hellhounds can’t lie to those they’re bound to,” Dante said as he handed Gideon a pile of sandwiches.

  “He’s worried you’ll hurt him if he tells you,” Kane said.

  “I wouldn’t hurt him!” I said.

  “We know that,” Kane said as he leaned down and kissed my temple.

  Gideon devoured the sandwiches while we watched him, waiting for his answer.

  He put the empty plate on the table before he sat a little taller and said, “I want to be a protector. I want to make the world better.”

  I grinned at him. “Me, too. That’s why I’m a mercenary; I want to make the world a better, brighter place.”

  A flicker of a smile passed over Gideon’s lips.

  “So, you won’t send me back?”

  I looked to Dante and Kane. I couldn’t do that to him.

  “No, we won’t send you back,” Dante said.

  Gideon relaxed some, and a genuine smile formed on his pretty mouth. He could easily have gotten work as a model with his short dark hair and sharp high cheekbones. He certainly had the body for it, although his elegant hands looked more suited to playing the piano.

  “What is you wish from me, Wren?” he asked, my name sounding foreign and awkward on his tongue.

  “I, er… I guess I want you to be happy,” I said, feeling completely lost.

  “He can feel your emotions down the bond as clearly as you feel his,” Dante said in warning.

  So, he would have felt the thoughts I was having about his tight, muscular body. I was so royally screwed.

  “Wait, you said everyone who bonds to a hellhound must be a strong witch, what about that hunter? The one who’s on the Council? She was involved in the Prague incident and bound the first hellhound,” I said.

  A small bloom of hope formed. Maybe I could tell him I had what she had.

  “Her parents cut a deal with a demon to keep her and her twin safe,” Dante said drily.

  There went that hope.

  Gideon edged a little closer to me, the need for affection and tactility pulsing through the bond. I reached out to him and gently pressed my fingertips to the back of his hand, a small gesture to show I didn’t mean any harm. He smiled at me and edged a little closer.

  “Just rub him behind the ears already,” Dante said.

  “He’s not an actual dog,” Kane said.

  “He’s been without a pack or any positive contact for I’d guess at least six months. He’s been severely abused. He needs quiet, gentle affection,” Dante said.

  “Are you offering?” I said, grinning at Dante.

  “He needs it from you,” he said with a smirk.

  I extended my arm in what I thought was the universal gesture for ‘come here for cuddles’ and pushed aside the weirdness of the entirely situation.

  Gideon scooted up to me and rested his head on my shoulder. I stroked the nape of his neck and felt him relax into me.

  “He’s still a war dog, Wren, don’t forget that. Once he’s settled and healed, he will make a formidable warrior,” Dante warned.

  I couldn’t see it as he leaned on me, his eyes closed in blissful happiness to finally have a little affection.

  FORTY-TWO

  “So, we’re back at square one,” I said.

  “Well, square minus one, given we now have Gideon,” Kane said with a smile.

  Gideon briefly opened his eyes to glare at Kane before he closed them again and went back to blissful happiness while I stroked the nape of neck. Dante had settled himself down in the armchair, and Kane was squeezed into the other end of the sofa.

  “We need to try the Olapireta again and get into the cult,” Dante said.

  “I’ll knock some heads together in the witch community,” Kane said as he stretched his legs.

  “I’ll join you,” Dante said as he stood.

  “Stay here and get to know Gideon,” Dante said.

  “Hey, I’m good at knocking heads together,” I said.

  Dante smiled. “I don’t doubt it, but you need to establish and settle the bond between you two. He needs you.”

  “Sorry, but he’s right. You need to help Gideon get his feet
under him,” Kane said as he leaned in and kissed my cheek.

  “We’ll have our phones; we’ll let you know if anything fun happens,” Kane said.

  Great, so I was left puppy-sitting.

  The door had barely closed behind Kane and Dante when Gideon turned his head and grazed his teeth over my throat, sending a thrill through me. I frowned at him.

  “Hounds fulfil their master’s every need,” he said as he nipped a little lower.

  I pulled away. Ok, so it had been a while, but I wasn’t going to take advantage of him.

  “No, I’m not screwing you. It’s not right, and no, not because you’re a hellhound, but I’m meant to help you heal and be a badass war dog,” I said.

  He tilted his head and looked at me with strikingly intelligent eyes.

  “You mean it… you don’t want to use me…”

  “That’s what I said,” as I stood up in case he started trying to seduce me again.

  He frowned. “But I’m a hellhound…”

  “And a person. You’re also a person who has needs and rights.”

  Confusion filled the bond between us. I was lost, had no idea how I was supposed to handle this. I was tempted to text Kane and ask for help. Maybe there a 101 guide on the internet somewhere.

  “You want me to be happy and fulfil my desires?”

  I laughed. “Yes, that’s what I said.”

  His face lit up with a stunning smile that captivated me, his eyes practically glowing with delight. I could see why the demons wanted him in their bed. He was in the running to push Dante off the pedestal for the world’s most beautiful man.

  “You’re beautiful too, you know, and your mates see that.”

  “My what?”

  He tilted his head slightly again, an adorable gesture that softened him.

  “Are they not your life partners…?”

  “I… no. They’re, no. Kane’s my best friend and Dante’s my work colleague.”

  “But you wish they were your life partners…”

  Fuck, was he getting that from the bond? Or was it just some weird misunderstanding. Oh, gods, how did this conversation get so awkward and difficult?

  He pricked his ears and shot up the stairs. I ran after him, not knowing what was going on or what else to do. The bond filled with the alert sense of him hunting. There was an intruder. That bond could be handy in the future.

  He was prowling back and forth in the hallway outside of the bedrooms when I got to the top of the stairs. There was a gentle tapping sound coming from my window. Gideon held his finger to his lips.

  “Let them come in. We will corner them,” he whispered.

  I pulled my daggers and waited, listening to the soft footsteps coming across the room. I heard two distinct sets. Gideon flattened himself against the wall, and I followed suit. It took every fibre of restraint to remain still as I watched them crack open the door and peer out. The moment the door opened fully, they darted out into the hallway. Gideon leapt on the one at the back of the trio, and I blocked the way to the stairs as I slashed at the throat of the leader. They were wearing all black and wore those ridiculous red masks. I moved away from the stairs as the wannabe-ninja almost landed a heavy kick to my stomach. We kept darting in and out, me slashing at their thighs, wrists and throat, them trying to punch me in the ribs and take my feet from under me.

  Gideon tore the first ninja apart. So much for being a broken puppy; he did a good job there. It would have been nice to have something left to analyse, but the body turned into a puff of smoke anyway. He turned his attention to the middle member of the trio, the small one that kept trying to slip in and slash the back of my thighs.

  My wannabe-ninja was distracted by Gideon’s sudden presence, enough that I managed to pin them against the wall. I slashed open their inner thigh with a deep cut that would bleed them out in a few minutes. I held my other blade against their throat before I ripped their mask off.

  “Who sent you?”

  The woman bared her teeth at me in some semblance of an insane grin. The final gurgle of death came from behind me and, given I could still feel Gideon, I assumed that was him killing the last free wannabe-ninja. I pressed my blade tighter against the captured one’s throat.

  “Who sent you?”

  Gideon grabbed onto her wrist and yanked up the sleeve.

  “The tattoo will tell you more than she will,” he said.

  I glanced down at it.

  “Give me your spare dagger. I will preserve it,” Gideon said.

  The ninja squirmed at that. “No, that grants me entrance to the afterlife.”

  “Shouldn’t have tried to kill me, then, should you? Why did you come after me?”

  “You are a threat to our bright and glorious future,” she spat.

  “Do you have anything less cliché?” I said as I handed the dagger to Gideon.

  He wasted no time in cutting the tattoo off her. She screamed in frustration and anguish only to vanish into a puff of smoke ten seconds later.

  Gideon looked at the flap of bloody skin in his hands as though it were a normal piece of paper.

  “This symbol is talked about in the infernal realm, but I was not high enough ranking to know why,” he said as he handed it to me.

  He was covered in blood, and none of it his. He was still alert, his ears pricked, but gone was the fragile broken puppy that I’d seen only a few minutes prior.

  “Were you screwing with me? With the need for affection and everything…?”

  He looked alarmed, his focus entirely on me.

  “No… I, I’ve been alone for a long time. My instincts took over. Did I fuck up?”

  The deep crease between his eyebrows was back as worry filled the bond.

  “No, no you did fine. I mean, it might have been nice to not get coated in blood,” I said with a smile.

  He pulled off the t-shirt and began unbuttoning the jeans.

  “No, keep those on. We’ll buy some new ones,” I said.

  “Does my body offend you?”

  I dragged my fingers through my hair. Why was this so hard?

  “No, but it’s not appropriate to walk around naked,” I said.

  “My previous master-”

  “I’m not them.”

  He smiled and moved his hands away from his jeans.

  “I’m not going to use you. There will be nothing non-consensual happening here. You’ll have to work because I’m broke, but we’ll figure it out. Ok?”

  He grinned at me and closed the space between us before he gently nipped my throat and pressed his cheek against mine.

  “What’s with the biting?” I asked.

  “Hounds show affection and appreciation with their teeth,” he said, the worry back.

  “Well, just… don’t draw blood,” I said.

  It was weird, but I wasn’t complaining at the sinful shivers it sent down my spine. Now to figure out what to do with the scrap of skin in my hand. I led the most glamorous life.

  FORTY-THREE

  I looked at my phone, trying to decide whom to ring about this latest development. The scrap of skin had been wrapped in a hand towel and put out of sight.

  It didn’t matter which one I rang, the other would be grumpy because I didn’t ring them about it. I opted for the coward’s way out and sent a group text to them both.

  WREN: Been attacked again. Gideon kicked ass. Got souvenir this time. Lead?

  It took a grand total of five seconds for them to reply.

  KANE: You ok!?

  DANTE: You’re in one piece? Any injuries? Souvenir?

  WREN: I’m fine, all good. I have a tattoo thanks to Gideon.

  DANTE: Be there in five mins.

  KANE: Gideon ok?

  WREN: Not a scratch on him.

  I almost said the clothes were ruined, but given we didn’t know who was tracing our texts I decided it was best not to add the blood part in.

  Gideon had relaxed and sat next to me his arm resting against min
e.

  “You really need the tactility?” I asked.

  “Does it bother you that much?”

  “I’m just figuring out how to give you what you need.”

  “Yes, being tactile with pack is important to me.”

  It felt so weird being called pack. I wasn’t a shifter.

  The skin was in the towel on the table in front of us, and while I wasn’t really squeamish, I had my limits. I turned on the tv and waited impatiently for the guys to get back. They came in the front door like they were expecting a full-blown war, bursting in on high alert.

  “I told you we were fine,” I said with a smile.

  They both looked at Gideon with a frown, likely due to the amount of blood on his jeans, although I bet the lack of shirt wasn’t helping.

  “What happened?” Dante asked.

  “You sure you’re ok?” Kane asked, looking between me and Gideon.

  “Attempted assassins broke into Wren’s bedroom window. We dispatched them and kept the tattoo marking their origin,” Gideon said, nodding towards the towel.

  “We’re fine,” I said to Kane.

  “You’re sure?” Kane asked Gideon.

  Confusion flickered over Gideon’s face before he smiled.

  “I don’t have any injuries. The deaths were messy. All of the blood is theirs.”

  Dante picked up the towel and looked the skin within. His deep frown slowly turned into a triumphant grin.

  “We can track this,” he said.

  He held it out so we could see it. It was a simple black outline of a sword with a large drop of blood dripping from it. Classy.

  “So, they’re blood witches?” I asked.

  “I’ll analyse the blood from Gideon’s t-shirt and confirm,” Kane said.