Lord of Chaos (The Dragon Demigods Book 7)

by Charlene Hartnady

  “Nia,” I blurt. I hadn’t planned on telling him, but I’m desperate. “He’s after me.” It’s true.

  “Who?” Rage’s eyes turn murderous. “Your husband…your boyfriend? Who’s after you?”

  “Not my boyfriend anymore.” I shake my head. “We were…together, and then…” I stop there.

  “You have some asshole ex after you?”

  I nod. It’s not a lie. Not really. “He’s threatening to kill me. He will kill me if he finds me.”

  “That’s why you’re so desperate?” Before I can answer, he goes on, “It doesn’t matter, you shouldn’t break into people’s homes and offer them sex. That’s fucked up!”

  “I’m desperate!” I plead, meaning it. “I need help,” I repeat the same words from earlier. Also, I need to find a way to get him to have sex with me. It’s key to my plan working. Why did I walk out of that club last night? Why did I let my emotions get the better of me? Why was I feeling so emotional in the first place?

  I see his stance soften but not by much. “Where are your clothes?”

  I shrug. I don’t have clothes. How do I tell him that? He won’t understand.

  “Forget it!” he growls. I hear him mumble something about my hair doing a good job of covering me up. All except my pussy. I have to bite back a smile. I follow him as he walks back into his room. He opens a door, rummages through his closet, pulling out a t-shirt. “Put this on.” He throws the garment at me before pulling some shorts on himself.

  I tug the shirt over my head.

  “One night.” He sounds stern. His eyes are dark and narrowed. “I will give you a ride to the police station in the morning. You can tell them about your situation. I’m sure there must be a shelter in Newfolk that helps women like you.”

  I nod.

  It’s something, I guess. I don’t tell him that a shelter won’t do me any good. That the local police won’t be able to save me. I’m looking at the only person capable of doing that. I need to somehow convince him to let me stay longer. I need to…get onto his good side. I need his help in a big way. Rage isn’t inclined to help me. It isn’t personal. He isn’t inclined to help anyone. He’s a closed-off loner with anger issues. The latter is why I need him. The former is why I will struggle to convince him. My life depends on it, and so I will keep trying. There is no other way.

  Rage opens another closet and takes out a pillow and a blanket. “You can sleep on the sofa.” His face wrinkles in disgust.

  He tries to hand me the items, but I don’t take them. “There’s a perfectly good bed.”

  “That’s my bed. I will be sleeping in it.”

  “There’s enough space.” I know I’m pushing it, but I’m not sure what his problem is.

  “I don’t share,” he growls, his voice low.

  No, you don’t! I know this is a sticking point. I can see it. It’s written all over him. “Of course,” I push out. “Thank you for letting me stay. I knew when I saw you that you would be able to help me.”

  He looks at me pointedly. “Don’t get too used to it.”

  I can see he means it. Rage plans on taking me to the station first thing in the morning. “Thank you,” I say.

  “Go and sleep. No fucking around.”

  I nod.

  “I mean it!”

  “So do I.”

  “I have excellent hearing. I’ll—” His eyes narrow. “Why are you smiling?”

  “If your hearing is so excellent, how did I sneak up on you earlier?”

  He frowns. “I have no idea.” He takes a small step forward. I think I see him sniff the air. “Don’t try it again. I’m ready for you this time.”

  I smile and then turn and walk away. Maybe there’s some way I’ll be able to convince him to let me stay longer in the morning. Somehow, I doubt it.

  I don’t want to give everything away just yet. If I come clean too soon, he’ll treat me like I’m a hot potato. I need him invested first. Right now, that seems impossible. I stretch out on the sofa and close my eyes. I need a good night’s sleep. Maybe the morning will bring new ideas and possibilities. I wish I was more skilled at seducing a man.

  6

  Rage

  There is a knock on the door. It’s only six-thirty. Who the hell is at my door at this time of the morning? I’m yawning as I open up.

  It’s Death.

  I frown at him. Then I turn and walk back into my house. I know he will follow, and he does.

  “Where is it?” Death says as he closes the door.

  “It? What it are you referring to?” I ask as I fire up the coffee machine.

  “The dog,” Death says, looking around my place.

  I mutter a curse as I see Death’s nose twitch. “I smell a woman.” He sniffs the air again.

  I can’t believe I forgot about the girl. I curse again as I look around the space. The blanket is crumpled on the sofa. I think she did sleep here. Where is she now? The bathroom door is open. I double-check inside anyway. Then I check my bedroom and bathroom. My cabin is small. I like it this way. Neat, tidy, and uncomplicated. It’s home. I’m at relative peace here. I frown when I get done searching.

  She’s gone.

  I should feel relief, but I don’t. I’m not sure what I feel. Where did she go? When did she leave? Why did she go? It seemed like she wanted to stay.

  “So there was a woman here?” Death folds his arms. “You had a woman over?” He sniffs the air again, frowning hard.

  “It’s a long story,” I mumble. “It was nothing, and not like that.” I shake my head. My mind wanders to thoughts of her naked body.

  Fuck!

  I knew she was drop-dead gorgeous, but I hadn’t been prepared for all of her nakedness. Not even close. Not like that! Hell, I very nearly took her up on her offer of sex. My body was all in. I’m glad I refrained. I would never take advantage of someone in a bad situation. Besides, she isn’t all there mentally. She followed me home. That’s stalking.

  Pity.

  Such a waste of a beautiful woman.

  I try to bring my focus back to the conversation. “Why are you here, and what do you want to know about the dog? I already took her to the pound, if you want to give her a home.”

  “That’s no ordinary dog,” Death says.

  It’s my turn to sniff the air. Has Death been drinking? Wine and nectar can be a lethal combination. I can’t scent either on him. “Don’t look at me like that,” Death says. “I haven’t lost my mind. There’s something off about the dog. You must have noticed.”

  I shake my head again. “I haven’t noticed anything. You need to say whatever it is you came to tell me. Or you need to leave.”

  The coffee is finally brewed. I pour myself a cup, taking a big sip.

  “Mmmmm…yes…” Death nods. “Thanks for the offer. A cup of coffee sounds great. You’re a great host, Rage.”

  I scowl at him for a few moments before grabbing another cup and filling it. I hand the beverage to Death. He smiles as he takes the cup. “No cream or sugar; exactly how I like my coffee in the morning.” He takes a sip. I get the distinct impression he’s being sarcastic. It’s wasted on me. I ignore the fuck out of his sarcasm.

  “What the fuck is going on?” I ask.

  “I just came from the Underworld. Hades isn’t happy because his Head Hunter isn’t happy.”

  “Hunter?” I frown, taking a sip.

  “Hades has several Hunters. Gaire is the Head, and his most respected, Huntsman.”

  “What does he hunt?” It’s too early for this bullshit.

  “More like who,” Death says, taking a sip of his coffee. “They hunt lost souls. Ghouls and ghosts who hide among the living. Gaire is a bit of a sick fuck; he likes to hunt the odd human…for sport. He says it keeps him sharp. Hades condones it…of course.”

  “I thought you brought all of the souls into the Underworld? There are more of you? Are you a Huntsman?”

  Death’s mouth twitches. “I am one of several beings who ta
ke souls to the Underworld. My father tasks me with specific duties. Souls he has taken a personal interest in. There are many more needing…transport. Sometimes souls get away. They escape or get lost. Gaire and his men track those souls down and bring them to the Underworld. The Hunters can transition easily between the various realms. It’s necessary to find the lost.”

  “Why isn’t this Gaire fucker happy?” I don’t like where this is going.

  “Hunters of the Underworld use dogs to help them track these missing souls. Not just any dogs, they use hellhounds.”

  I nod. I don’t say anything, even though I now know for sure where this is going. I fucking hate it.

  “Gaire’s dog went missing just over a week ago. He found out she was gone last night, and all hell is breaking loose in the Underworld.”

  I nod again. “You think the dog I took to the pound is this Gaire asshole’s dog?”

  Death nods. “I think your dog is no ordinary dog.”

  “Not my dog,” I grunt.

  “Gaire would agree with that statement. I somehow think that the dog will feel differently since she seems to have latched onto you.”

  “Do you see a dog around here? I sent the creature to the pound. Send Gaire there if he wants his dog back. She’ll have a home. Problem solved.”

  “Gaire is a piece of work. He’s going to be pissed that she disobeyed him. He’ll hurt her. Might even kill her, if or rather when he finds her. Also, I know there’s a good reason she ran away in the first place. People don’t run for no reason.”

  “Nothing to do with me,” I force the words out. I don’t want to get involved. I can’t! “Tell Hades to intervene.” I don’t like any kind of animal abuse.

  “The dog belongs to Gaire. It’s out of Hades’ hands how the Huntsman decides to punish her.” Death makes a face. “Also, this is Hades we’re talking about. God of the Underworld….he doesn’t give a shit.”

  “That’s fucked up.”

  “It is.” Death nods.

  “This still has nothing to do with me. Surely a hellhound would be able to take care of herself. Surely the beast must have skills—”

  “It’s all very complicated. She’s ultimately no match for Gaire.”

  “That’s fucked up,” I grumble again. “Why did she run away in the first place?”

  “It’s a long story, but bottom line, Gaire is a sadistic fuck. He hunts for a living, and his sights are firmly set on her now that he knows she’s gone.”

  “How did it take him a whole week to realize she was missing?”

  “Again, it’s a long story.” Death is looking around my place; there is interest in his eyes. “Tell me about the woman who stayed here. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner. I got this feeling when I saw the dog, but…” He rubs his chin. “What does she look like? Was she—?”

  “I’m not discussing her with you.” I frown. “It’s none of your business. She’s gone. I don’t think she’s coming back, and that’s all you need to know.”

  “Did she give you her name, by any chance?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I snap, putting down my cup with a bump. “As much as I’m enjoying our chat, it’s early, and I’m not feeling much like company.” I wish he hadn’t told me about the dog. A hellhound! Fuck me! I can’t get involved. I don’t want to. That’s the end of it. I’m irritated that he felt the need to come here and to tell me all this. Then again, it’s probably better he did, so that I know to stay far away from the pound.

  “If it’s the woman I’m thinking of, she goes by several names; that’s why I was curious.”

  I feel my jaw drop for a moment. “How did you know she has several names?”

  He gets this glint in his eyes. “Oleander was her most recent one. Before that, it was Nia, although Gaire liked to call her Bitch when she was in her dog form. Hades named her—”

  “In her dog form?” I feel my blood run cold. Surely not!

  Death nods. “Hellhounds are shifters too, you know?”

  I scrub a hand over my face. “I didn’t know.” I feel dumbfounded. I feel stupid. It was staring me right in the face, and I didn’t even see it. Not only was the Doberman not a dog, she’s not just a hellhound, either. She’s a shifter, and a beautiful one at that.

  “Do you want to tell me more about the woman now?” He smirks over the coffee cup before taking a sip.

  I shake my head. “No…not really.” Nia is a hellhound shifter. I can’t believe it. “I took a hellhound to the pound.” It all makes more sense now.

  Death chokes out a laugh. “Yes, seems that way. The question is, what does she want from you? Although I can guess.” He cocks his head.

  “She told me she needs my help. She said she’s in trouble.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. Gaire is a shitstorm of trouble. Nia went against a direct order, one given by her master. Then she disappeared. He’s out for blood. He will destroy all who stand in his way.”

  “She’s gone,” I say simply. “As much as I feel for her…” I shake my head. “I don’t want to get involved. I can’t! You know that.”

  He lifts his brows. “I think it might be too late for that.”

  “The hell it is!” I glare at Death like he’s the one who caused this all to happen in the first place.

  Death shrugs. He puts down his coffee cup. “I thought you should know what was going on. If an angry asshole arrives at your door, you’ll know who he is. You can prepare.”

  My blood immediately starts to boil at the prospect. “He’d better not…if he knows what’s good for him.”

  “Don’t underestimate Gaire.”

  “Gaire can go fuck himself,” I grind out.

  “You really need to—” Death gets ‘the look’.

  “You’re being summoned.”

  He nods. “It gets old. I’m tired!” Death rubs a hand over his face. I notice for the first time how pale he is. That he has black smudges under his eyes.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  He heaves out a sigh and nods. “Take care of yourself. I think you’re right about staying clear of this mess.” He groans, looking pained. “You know where we are if you need help. I need to go.” Then he disappears.

  My mind is crawling with unanswered questions. I shove them all aside. I feel bad for the hellhound, but… No. Just no!

  Not.

  My.

  Problem.

  7

  Rage

  Later that night…

  It’s dark. All is quiet.

  I hear the clock ticking in the hallway, and the soft noises of the refrigerator in the kitchen. There are crickets chirping, and in the far distance, dogs are barking. A breeze is blowing softly through the trees outside my window.

  I don’t hear her, but I do catch her scent. Wild and exotic. Nothing remotely like a dog at all, so I’m assuming she’s in her human form. I hear her heart beating in her chest as she draws nearer. She’s nervous. She should be. What the fuck is she doing in my house? Why is she back? When she’s almost standing over me, I leap up.

  I grab her wrists and pull her onto the bed, flipping her over so that she’s on her back. Her eyes are wide, and she’s breathing hard. “You could have told me that the dog bed would’ve worked just as well as the sofa.” I use my body to hold her down. Her arms are above her head. I hold them down too.

  “You know?” she whispers.

  “Yes.”

  She tries to pull free, her features changing to reflect her focus and determination. I hold onto her tightly. “Stop!” I growl, irritated that yet again my body is responding to her. She’s naked and underneath me. Her hair has spilled across the pillow. Her breasts are full. Her nipples are as plump as fuck. My dick is taking note.

  She sucks in a breath and looks between our bodies. I’m glad I decided to wear sleeping shorts to bed. I had a feeling she might turn up. Right now, my dick is straining against the fabric. I can’t help it. “Why are you here? What do you want?”r />
  I see her throat work. “I already told you.”

  “You need help. You’re in trouble. Your ex is after you,” I deadpan.

  She nods. “Yes.”

  “I’m not your guy,” I say as I get off of her. My jaw tightens when she stays right where she is, namely, on my bed. She pulls herself onto her elbows. She has this tiny strip of hair between her legs, which are open. I know when I’m being played. I keep my eyes on hers.

  “You are exactly my guy.” She sits up, with no shyness about her nudity. Now I know why. She’s a shifter.

  My sleeping shorts are tight. My cock feels like it’s throbbing. I don’t try to hide the fact that I’m horny as fuck. I don’t try to make explanations for the fact, either. She’s naked…in my house…in my fucking bed. “I’m not your guy. You can forget that idea and move right on.”

  “There is no one else strong enough to help me. It’s you or…” I see her eyes fill with fear for a moment before she schools the emotion. Only, I’m still not buying it.

  I throw out the start of a laugh. It sounds like a bark gone wrong. I clear my throat. My lip twitches. “You’re really good.” A class-A manipulator if I ever saw one.

  “It’s the truth.” She stands. “There are very few people strong enough. Almost all of them are affiliated with Hades…or the Underworld. They can’t help me. You can! You’re the son of Ares…lord of war, bloodlust, and chaos. Lord of destruction. You’re also my only hope.”

  “I’m not buying it.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “There must be someone else. Anyone else! Did you know I have a brother?” I find I don’t like the idea of Nia going to Maddox. Even though I am suggesting it. I go on anyway because it makes sense. “Maddox might be willing to—”

  She shakes her head. “Your brother doesn’t have your strength. He doesn’t have the power that you do. Besides, your brother is…nice.” She shrugs. “Nice won’t work. Nice is no good. Nice doesn’t work for me at all! I need the opposite of nice. I need you.”