Junkyard Dog

by Katja Desjarlais

  Opening the sofa bed, Ryan carefully moved his backpack to the dining table and checked it over. “You okay?”

  He dropped onto his bed and tossed his arm over his eyes. “Nope.”

  The mattress shifted when Ryan sat down. “You can come with us tomorrow,” he offered. “Once we track down the Pirithous online, we can set up shop in the area and deal with this once and for all.”

  “And then what?”

  He lifted his arm as Ryan looked over at him. “What do you mean?”

  “And then what?” Alex reiterated. “We return to the underworld to eat table scraps and listen to the gossip of a bunch of irrelevant gods while they scratch our ears and remind us of our place?” He rose up on his elbows. “What are we gunning for? It’s not freedom. Or money. Just back to the junkyard until the boss sends us on another senseless errand.”

  Ryan’s eyes hardened. “We have a duty.”

  “And you know I’ll obey orders, so let’s drop it.” He fell back on his pillow. “It doesn’t matter. I’m paid up here until the end of the month, so I’ll jump ship once we figure out where the Pirithous is. Clean break, fresh starts, and all that.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Alex tossed his dirty socks into his hamper, balancing his phone against his shoulder. “It’s been a week. Do I bother paying another month’s rent or do I put in my notice?”

  Ryan went quiet for a moment as Bo grumbled from the background. “Stay put until we know where we’re moving,” he finally stated. “Bo’s getting back to work here.”

  “And you?” he asked, knowing Ryan had been stressing about his own monetary situation in the wake of his absence.

  “I’m on probation,” he replied tersely. “Putting in overtime for the next little while. If we get a bead on the Pirithous, we’ll regroup and examine the best location to set up shop.” He paused as Bo muttered something behind him. “Would you feel better relocating now? I have a futon you can crash on for the time being.”

  Dumping his quarter collection out to count it, Alex grunted. “I might go grovel at Thomas’s feet and try to score enough shifts to pay the bills.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?”

  “Probably not, but a man’s gotta eat. I won’t go against the decree, Ryan. I know our duty, and I know what’s at stake.” He gathered his coins up and tossed the container into the hamper. “I need to hit the laundromat, so call me in a few days and tell Bo he’s a frog-fucker.”

  Adding his phone and wallet to the basket, he felt around the sofa cushions for his keys, huffing in annoyance when someone knocked on his door. “Gimme a sec,” he called out, hooking his finger on the keyring and pocketing them before he misplaced them again.

  He grabbed on to the frame and pushed his door open slowly to avoid thumping anyone, taking a reactive step back when Charlotte came into view. “Hey.”

  She tugged at the hem of her red tank, her thumbs digging into the fabric. “Hey.”

  With his brain firing in dozens of different directions, he clung to the frame, knowing he was staring at her but unable to stop.

  She always looked so goddamn gorgeous in red.

  “Could I come in?”

  He blinked, backing into his trailer wordlessly as she gave him a tight smile and followed, pulling the door shut.

  She glanced down at his laundry pile. “Is this a bad time?”

  “It can wait,” he replied, eying her cautiously. “What’s up?”

  She scanned his place intently, craning her neck slightly to peer past him into his bedroom. “Are your brothers still here?”

  “Left last Sunday.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the counter, trying desperately to read her as she looked everywhere but at him. “Were you looking for me or them?”

  She pursed her lips and stared at the floor for a few seconds. “I’ve gone over this a thousand times,” she began slowly, tilting her head and finally looking at him. “Probably more than that. I’ve spent way more hours on Google than I should’ve, and I’ve watched some really weird homemade YouTube documentaries.”

  His muscles tensed, his head battling with his instinct to run.

  But she’d sought him out, and he had to know what she knew, and what she’d said about the things she’d seen.

  At least, that was the excuse he would be giving Hades and Ryan for his moment of weakness.

  “None of the videos really fit with anything I saw,” she mused, her brow knotting. “But some of the articles I read were interesting. I mean, there was a lot of crackpot to weed through, but at least I knew I wasn’t losing my mind.”

  Easing his hands from his pockets, he crossed his arms over his chest, even the most veiled restraints on him feeling stifling. “Bounty hunter was a really loose explanation,” he said quietly.

  She exhaled, mimicking his position. “Can you do it at will?” When she was met with silence, she lifted a brow. “Can you make it so Butch is right here, right now?”

  Refusing to answer, he copied her expression, his mind replayed the various scenarios he’d been imagining for weeks.

  Screaming.

  Hysterics.

  Disgust.

  Fear.

  She stared him down, her dark eyes clinical. “Alex.”

  “You’ve kind of got me by the balls,” he finally stated, running his hand through his hair. “Either you’re going nuts, or I’m hauled into some Area 51–level nightmare. I care for you too much to feed the first option, and I value my own ass too much for the second.”

  She nodded, her eyes narrowing as she considered his words.

  The slight downturn of her lips didn’t escape his notice. “Hypothetically,” he said, digging his fingers into his ribs, “if we were to take insanity off the table, how likely would it be for me to find the FBI or wildlife officers pounding down my door at three a.m.?”

  “Zero percent,” she replied, rubbing her elbow.

  He glared at her arm. “That still bothering you?”

  Charlotte dropped her hand. “Show me I’m not losing it.”

  “Promise me you won’t scream,” he countered, his instincts howling in protest.

  She crossed her heart. “I swear it.”

  He pushed off the counter, nudging the sofa bed with his foot to tuck in the final few inches. “This is probably a huge mistake,” he said softly, turning his back to her as he pulled his shirt over his head. “If, when, you freak out and talk, I’m probably going to be hoofing it out of here empty-handed. End up sleeping on Ryan’s couch for the next few months and delivering pizza for five bucks an hour.” He chuckled humorlessly, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them off his hips. “What the fuck am I doing?”

  He kicked off his jeans and boxers as he transformed, internally preparing for the scream while Charlotte drew in a deep breath. When it didn’t come, he placed his paws on the sofa, shuffling his hind legs awkwardly as he turned around in the tiny space before he dropped to all fours, his head bowed.

  Time froze as he waited for her to react. He locked his eyes on the floor and inched back to give her room to run, her silence more terrifying for him than her screams. The longer the stillness stretched out, the tenser he became, his hackles rising when she took a step toward him and slowly lowered herself to the floor.

  He risked a glance up at her, the scent of her lotion almost overwhelming him as her hand stretched out to him and she tentatively ran her thumb under his chin.

  “Oh, wow,” she whispered, one hand covering her mouth.

  He remained motionless as she examined him, tilting his head from side to side and lifting his ears.

  “So this is why Butch never let me see his eyes,” she murmured, holding his muzzle steady. “Sneaky thing, aren’t you, boy?”

  Ducking out of her grip, he sat back.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, covering her face with her hands. “Not a dog,” she whispered to herself, pushing her hair back. “Okay. I… Okay. I have questions.
And you…” She gestured toward him. “You need to be you.”

  *

  Alex emerged from his bedroom fully clothed, his eyes averted as Charlotte placed a filter into his coffeemaker and counted out the scoops.

  “I suppose this is your way of saying you have a lot of questions,” he muttered, standing as far from her as he could in the tiny trailer.

  She bent down to glare at the machine, tapping buttons until he reached over and flipped a small switch on the side. “Thanks,” she said, straightening up and sitting at the kitchen table. When he remained tucked tightly against his fridge, she sighed. “Does it hurt?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Can you control it?”

  “Yeah.”

  Pursing her lips, she crossed her arms and sat back in her seat. “Are you going to give me more than one-word answers?”

  “Probably.”

  When he smirked, she rolled her eyes, the tension in her body releasing a little. “Are you going to sit?”

  “Only if you command it.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  He gave her a tight smile and looked over to the coffeepot. “Once that fills.” He ran his hand through his hair and shifted his weight. “I should have said this earlier, but whatever I tell you doesn’t leave here.”

  Her brows shot up. “Of course not.”

  “Not even Max.”

  She tilted her head and watched him as he opened a cupboard and pulled out two mugs. Every muscle was tense, the tendons in his neck taut. He had yet to really look at her, the usual fluidity of his movements abrupt while he poured the coffee, wetting a dishcloth to wipe the small spill before he picked up the cups and carried them over.

  She inched her hand across the table to his, giving it a quick squeeze of reassurance. He glanced down at her fingers and drew his arm back. “Ask away.”

  Ignoring the ripple of hurt that hit her, she lifted her mug. “What are you?”

  He grunted and stretched his arms across the back of his seat. “Might as well go big or go home, eh? We’re the original junkyard dog.”

  Keeping her face as expressionless as possible, she waved her hand. “Go on.”

  He took a sip of his coffee and resumed his position. “Once upon a time, there was an old god named Hades. He oversaw the souls of the dead, broke up fights, assigned punishments, all that stuff.” He paused, watching her reactions. “He had a dog named Cerberus that helped him monitor the perimeter to make sure no one got out. Or, in some cases, got in.” He leaned his head back. “You’d be amazed at how many people inadvertently find themselves in realms they shouldn’t be in.”

  She leaned forward. “You’re kidding.”

  “Woof, baby.”

  She downed half her coffee, wincing when it burned down her throat. “Cerberus. The hellhound.” Frowning to recall the image she’d spent sleepless nights erasing from memory, she pointed her pinky at him. “That’s what I saw, isn’t it?”

  “Bo, Ryan, and I can exist separately, but the only way to transport ourselves and our kills back to Hades is to unite,” he replied slowly, his attention drifting around the trailer. “And yeah, that’s what you saw.”

  She nodded to buy herself time to think, her head struggling to reconcile the three-headed beast she’d seen with the man drinking coffee feet away from her. “Why are you here?”

  “Glutton for punishment?” he grumbled. “Our master is a little impulsive and vindictive when it comes to his wife. Some poor dumbass nabbed Seph a few thousand years ago.” He lifted a brow when Charlotte opened her mouth to speak. “Persephone. She was back right away, totally fine, but thanks to Hades and his flippant curses, every male who carries the blood of the Pirithous line has to be eliminated before the job’s done and the hex is satisfied.”

  Hunting for signs of deception in the tale he was spinning, she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “How hard could that’ve been? I mean, thousands of years ago? There were, like, five developed civilizations.”

  He scoffed. “I made that very point when Hades booted us topside a few hundred years ago. Had he sent us up at the time, the three males carrying the Pirithous line would’ve been dead and gone within the year.” Getting to his feet, he scooped up her mug and refilled it. “Instead, he kept us on the shoreline until the believers dried up and he didn’t need the guard dog anymore. And Seph liked having her golden boys around to show off to her family. So, by the time we were sent topside, the line was all over Europe and Africa. One spinoff in India.” He set her cup down for her. “That one was a real bitch to hunt down.”

  She tested the drink before taking a sip. “So this line is the guy who was in the park. The one who attacked me.”

  Alex’s expression morphed, his eyes hardening. “I dropped the ball on that one.”

  “How so?”

  He looked at her pointedly. “I was distracted.” He bit his lower lip and stared at the table. “The Pirithous males turn after their first run-in with one of us. Totally normal guys until we cross paths.” He drummed his fingers along the back of the bench seat. “After the first time, they start to have violent thoughts. Controllable, but dark. They start to hunker down in their future kill zone without realizing what they’re doing. The second run-in triggers the movement from thought to action.” He reached down to rub his ribs. “The sedan hit was the second.”

  “Which is why the bodies began turning up,” she mused. “He’d staked out his site.”

  He nodded. “I’d scented him in the area months earlier, but hadn’t been able to track him. And by the time I did, the park was knee-deep in dead hikers and I was head over…” He paused. “I was slacking on the job.”

  Setting his fumbled words aside to think about later, she pressed on. “If you got him, why are you still here? I thought you were supposed to be gone once you got your target.”

  “Miscalculation.”

  She leveled him with a dead glare.

  “Ryan and I believed we had the last one,” he continued, lifting his hands in surrender. “Bo had been insisting the Pirithous in Albany thirty years ago had a kid, but nothing came up in our preliminary hunt, so we walked away.” When she remained silent, he sighed. “With the last one, we’ll return to our duties in the underworld. Prowling the grounds. Scaring the residents. Getting belly rubs.” He patted his toned stomach. “Speaking of, I’m starving.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Alex stayed tight to Charlotte’s little coupe, following her to the empty lot of a restaurant off the main road.

  We can eat, but I still have questions.

  Of course she did.

  The calculating dark eyes, the pursing lips, the way she tilted her head while she thought through his words.

  Wary as it made him, her intelligence drew him in as much now as ever.

  Pulling in beside her, he took his time getting out of the SUV. With the shock of her arrival at his door waning and the apprehension of her grilling wearing off, he was coming to terms with a truth he wasn’t ready or equipped to deal with.

  He missed her.

  Missed her enough to recognize he’d been functioning through little more than routine for the past month. That the persistent apathy in his mind since he’d walked out of her apartment drew directly from her absence.

  Missed her enough to expose everything he was.

  Missed her and needed her.

  “The dry ribs here are incredible, but stay away from the wings.”

  He grabbed his phone and got out, tightening his grip on it when his hand instinctively reached for hers as he scanned the deserted lot. “Are you sure this is the place?”

  She led him to the unwelcoming metal door and heaved it open. “We have two hours before it fills. And I have a lot of questions.”

  “I don’t know how much more you could want to know,” he stated, following her to a small booth at the back of the restaurant. “I pretty well summed it all up.”

  She lifted a brow a
s she sat, accepting the menus from the waiter with a sweet smile and waiting until he walked away with their drink orders. “Are you still you in there? Like, do you think in words or, I don’t know, barks?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” He snickered, schooling his expression when she folded her hands on the table. “Words. The physical change doesn’t affect my head at all.” He paused. “I’m more interested in rabbits, though. Lizards, too. Pretty much anything I can hunt and eat.”

  Her eyes widened as she unclasped her hands and lay them palms down. “Do you have any cool powers?”

  “Aside from realm jumping?” he asked drily, grinning at her when she rolled her eyes and ignoring the guilt creeping through his mind over Hades’s decree. “My senses are more refined, for sure. Faster, stronger. But no, no lasers shooting from my eyes or telekinetic powers or anything cool.”

  A hint of disappointment crossed her face.

  And for a brief moment, he wished he was a hellhound with laser eyes.

  He leaned back as the waiter placed their drinks down and took their order, resting his elbows on the table once they were alone again. “Anything else?”

  “How old are you?”

  He bit his lip as he did the math. “Three? Four thousand? Time was kind of irrelevant for most of my life, and I spent all but a few hundred years as a dog, so are we counting that differently?”

  “I…” She shook her head. “Moving on. Where were you during the month you were gone?”

  “Hades.”

  She drew in a deep breath. “Elaborate, please.”

  “Not much to say.” He shrugged. “Good food, dark ambience, and a lot of ear scratching.” When her eyes narrowed slightly, her expression shifting quickly to a feigned pleasantness, he slid his hand across the table. “I’m a pet down there. I spend most of my time on all fours snagging smoked meats from the banquet hall and sitting beside Hades, bored out of my head while he welcomes the one or two new arrivals that trickle in.” He hooked his pinky around hers, his heart almost stopping when she didn’t pull away. “I swam in the river a few times, but it has a weird smell to it I can’t quite identify and it takes forever to get it out of my fur.”