Hard to Kill (Hell Hounds Harem Book 6)

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Hard to Kill (Hell Hounds Harem Book 6) Page 17

by Briana Michaels


  He stiffened. “And what would those things be, Sweetness?”

  She didn’t know the right combination of words to answer with. You. Us. The fate of the world. The fate of this pack. So she grabbed Bishop by the front of his shirt and dragged him in for a searing hot kiss instead. It took him all of one millisecond to get on board with that diversion. When she pulled away and released his shirt, she poked his pec, “Take me hunting, Hound Dog.”

  Constantine returned with a thumbs up that the Paris pack was going to survive, but they were in rough shape.

  God damn, Lucifer thought, Tilly had been right. Sometimes, temptation, once you gave into it even a little, would start to fade and could eventually be defeated. Guess it was like going on a diet and having a nibble of dessert instead of none at all. It was all about self-control. Something Hell Hounds and Angels knew a thing or two about.

  “That girl is one smart cookie. I can’t believe we didn’t figure that out.”

  “Well, it’s not like we had the deduction skills. When we stepped into the cell, Asher lost his shit and took it out on himself. How were we supposed to know to toss his pack in there with him and let him go buck wild? Talk about being thrown to the motherfucking wolves,” Gabriel plopped his ass into a chair, “Tilly already tested it out twice on her Hounds, no thanks to her giving zero fucks about the outcome, which,” he waggled a finger in the air, “all comes down to her being cursed.”

  “You trying to make yourself feel better about that, brother?” Constantine laughed, “Damn I’m sorry I missed you getting your ass handed to you by a pup.”

  “She was super pissed,” Sara nodded. “And I don’t blame her. You’ve got brass balls cursing an entire bloodline like that.”

  Gabriel shook off Sara’s nasty stare. “If you think I enjoy cursing people, you’re mistaken, Hound. But it was necessary. Everything an Angel does is fucking necessary.”

  “So what was the purpose then?” Sara leaned back and rubbed her belly. “What was so damn important that you had to kill off generations of women like that?”

  Gabriel’s gaze flicked to Lucifer, then the other two Angels.

  Lucifer cleared his throat and took the lead, “It was a safety precaution, Darling. We have certain individuals whose purpose is to mark times and alert us for what may come. Prophecies aren’t accurate, but, if we’re sure about one being true, we can’t stop the inevitable, but some Angels - who have the capability - can at least put safeguards in place so we know what’s coming.”

  “And… what’s coming?”

  Lucifer kept his expression guarded. “You should rest, Darling. You look exhausted and this much stress isn’t good for the baby.”

  “Oh no you don’t,” Sara growled, “You’re not going to send me to bed like a fucking kid when there’s a big problem that needs to be handled.”

  “We’ll handle the problem,” The Devil snarled, “And you’re not to be part of it. So do me a favor so I have two less things to worry about and go get some rest. You and the baby are too important to me and I won’t be able to concentrate if I’m worried about you on top of everything else.”

  “We’ll get started,” Gabriel and the other two Angels went out the door without saying another word.

  “I don’t get you,” Sara frowned. “You don’t do anything in the right order, Luce.”

  “And what’s the right order, Darling?” Lucifer was keeping Sara close now. She would be staying in Hell until the babe was born. He wanted control in a world where he had very little, so keeping her down there with him was the only way to solve that.

  “You just sent Valor’s pack away when we finally have something to go by.”

  “And what would that be?”

  Sara tossed her hands up in the air and practically screeched. “Those sketches!”

  “Are you questioning my priorities?”

  She bit back her next words and put her hands on her hips. “Luce,” she finally huffed, “explain this to me okay? I’m worried.”

  “About?”

  “You. Not the world. You.”

  He wanted to tell her to not worry. Say that he’s got this and there was no need to panic. But he was the Devil, not a liar. “I’m doing things the only way I can, Darling. You need to trust me.”

  “I do, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to question your thought process.”

  Did he need to spell it out? Fine, he could do that if it would ease her worries. The last thing Lucifer wanted was for Sara to go into early labor because of a panic attack or high blood pressure or anything else that might go haywire in her delicate condition. “Your pack was always the strongest because of the bonds you formed together.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “The other packs don’t have that, Sara. They don’t even have something close to that.”

  She stood there with her hands on her hips, her belly round and adorable stretching out a shirt that definitely had to be one of Kalen’s. Was she ever going to buy maternity clothes? He made a note to ask her Hounds to send more clothing down when they came. She would grow out of all she owned in just a few weeks.

  “I’ve always been able to use the black fires to balance anyone who became unstable.” He’d even done it for Sara’s pack during the five years she’d gone missing. The Hounds remained loyal and faithful to her even when everyone thought she was fucking dead. “We all depend on one another in some way.”

  She continued to stare up at him, and now her toe was tapping.

  “Hell Hounds draw their powers from me.”

  Sara nodded.

  “I can draw energy from the other Angels.” That was something few knew about. And he only started doing it recently because of his own terrifying imbalance. “I need my Hounds to be stable and strong so they don’t keep pulling from me, that way I’m strong enough to fight the need to pull from my brothers, and thus prevent them from weakening too. The world, and Hell, are frail. All it takes is one thing to collapse and it’ll be like dominoes in pig shit.”

  In the midst of this little confession, Lucifer escorted Sara to his bedroom. He wanted her to rest. She looked pale and exhausted. “Everything has a purpose, Sara. Tilly was made for Valor’s pack. She’s the missing link that has the capability to force them together and strengthen their bond. Just like you were able to do for the Hounds in your pack.”

  “Are you trying to give them a quick Happily Ever After before the world burns down, Luce?”

  “I’m trying to give them something to fight for, Darling.” Lucifer thought back to what happened in the beginning of all this mess…. Fuck, even now he couldn’t stomach it. “I can’t save every pack, Sara, but I’ll certainly try. They need to be strong enough to fight for me when the time comes that I call upon them. Valor’s pack is easy to strengthen right now because they’ve found what they were missing and she’s got what it takes to bring out the best in each of them. They’ve always been a fractured pack, Darling. You know that.” He didn’t need to point out their downfalls. “My priorities are to save my Hounds, save myself, and then save the world.”

  Might sound a little selfish, but Lucifer couldn’t very well save the world if he was fucking dead and he couldn’t fight this war alone, either.

  “Do you know who has the power to make dark angels like Tilly spoke about?”

  “There are many who have such power.”

  “And they can resurrect the dead too?”

  That was forbidden. No one, not even an Angel, was allowed to fuck with death. Once again, it came down to balance. Life and Death had no room for a third player in their games. And the power it took to raise and manipulate the dead was precarious and costly. Definitely not worth the risk.

  Sara sat at the edge of the Devil’s bed. Lucifer kneeled down and started to pull off her shoes.

  “You know who it is, don’t you, Luce?”

  He tossed her boots over by a set of his and pressed her shoulder so she would lay back on his pillow. “We n
eed to focus on what’s important.”

  “The enemy is pretty important.”

  “Which is why my brothers are studying the sketches.”

  The Devil couldn’t leave Hell yet, and his brothers still could, so Lucifer focused on what he was able to control here. Like Sara.

  “Why didn’t you say something about the tattooed hand?”

  “Why didn’t you, Darling?”

  They stared at each other. They both knew why. Damnit. “You’re scaring me, Lucifer. You’re not telling me something, I can feel it.”

  His smile didn’t reach his eyes. Yeah, he wasn’t telling her everything. Just like his hands were tied and he was stuck in Hell and couldn’t do shit about it, Sara was in a tight spot herself. It wasn’t like she could go after the enemy in her condition either. To tell her more would only make her rage and that wouldn’t do the baby any favors.

  With a gentle hand, he tucked some of her hair behind her ear, “Timing is everything, Darling.”

  And The Devil’s time was almost up.

  Chapter 20

  While they set off to find a good hunting spot, Tilly stayed quiet in the truck. Her Hounds carried on about what was going on in Hell, Baz’s wings, Lucifer’s state of mind, and yada-yada-yada, but she couldn’t contribute to a single thing they talked about, nor did she have the capacity to make words come out of her mouth. Every time she tried, a growl came out instead. It had only been about an hour since she’d left Hell, but time held zero weight right now. She was stuck in some kind of zone where she couldn’t feel a damned thing accept this crazy hunger to hunt, chase, and destroy. Tilly’s body trembled like she’d been hooked up to a V-8 engine.

  She didn’t feel human anymore. Didn’t think human either.

  “Hey,” Drake snapped his fingers in her face, “Goldilocks, look at me.” Guess she didn’t answer because the next thing Tilly heard was tires squealing and car doors slamming shut. “Shit, grab her and pull her out.”

  Someone started man-handling her out of the backseat. Her vision was wavy, like she was looking through a glass of water. Colors were so damn bright she had to blink and squint. Yet it was in the middle of the night and the moon was barely visible.

  The moon.

  Barely a sliver in the sky, it smiled down on her and filled her up with something potent and heady and her mouth opened wide to release her howl.

  "Fuck, I’ll never get tired of hearing that," someone said.

  Something caught her attention and she prowled closer to it. In the back of her mind, there was a little voice that sounded like reasoning and logic. It was asking her Hound-side questions.

  Where are we? A parking lot.

  What time is it? Dark.

  What do you smell? Enemies.

  What else do you smell? Pack.

  Are you alone? No.

  Are you ready to run? Hell yes.

  Will you be seen?

  Tilly scanned the dimly lit parking lot and looked around for humans. There weren't any. Just an old brick building that looked abandoned and a couple stores across the street with their lights off. No. She could hunt unseen here.

  Someone snapped their fingers in her face again. Tilly blinked and looked into a pair of dark brown eyes. Drake. My Hound.

  "Stay with us, okay?"

  "You sure this is a smart idea?" Sebastian's voice brought her attention over to him next.

  Baz. My Hound. "She's too unstable. What if we can't control her?"

  Control. Tilly snapped her teeth at the word. Would they try to stop her from killing? Would they impede her hunt?

  More movement came from across the parking lot. Instead of going for her gun, she snatched the blade from Drake's waist, disarming him in less than two seconds. She palmed the thick handle and kept her gaze fixed on the thing moving closer.

  "She'll have enough to go after in the building. There's at least four, possibly five, in there. Hounds, secure the perimeter. Mo leannan, come with me."

  Valor. Alpha. My Hound.

  Tilly stayed alert as she followed her alpha across the parking lot, through the rusty graffiti-ridden door and into the building. It was dark and smelled like stale cigarette butts, wet metal, and piss. Her eyes watered.

  Immediately, her instincts went into action and she smelled around, her eyes peeled wide as she put one boot in front of the other and kept her blade out and ready to strike. Whatever this building was, it had been abandoned for a long time. A broken swivel chair with the springs and stuffing hanging out of the cushion was dead center in the open space. Broken glass, old hypodermic needles and a few used condoms decorated the cement floor.

  She stared at an empty bag of chips while she listened. There was a scuttle of rats running round, the drip drip drip of a leak somewhere - the roof - and there was a –

  Her head snapped to the right and she hurried through a hallway into another section of the warehouse. Mildew coated what was left of the drywall. She heard the sound again. It was a heavy breathing noise. Not a hiss, or a sigh, it was like... like an animal trying to breathe through a rubber mask. Strangled, muffled, and thick sounding. The scent of her enemy soon followed and she stalked closer, following the stench of malanum.

  She had no idea they smelled so disgusting and pungent. They hadn’t before when she was only human.

  Her enemy clung to the ceiling and looked down at her. Tilly smiled and jumped, trying to grab and yank it down. The malanum's hair was long and stringy, easy to snag if she could just jump a little higher. When she tried and failed a second time, the malanum didn't give her a third chance. With a hiss, it scurried away and her Hell Hound skills were put to the test. Her only thought was CATCH IT! So she ran up the wall, onto the ceiling, and snagged it by the ankle. It screeched and kicked to free itself. She felt the leg bone snap and crunch in her hand. Unless this thing was going to rip off its leg, there'd be no escaping Tilly now.

  “Over here, lass.” Valor already had a Hell hole opened. “Toss it in.”

  But she didn’t want to just toss it in. She wanted to shred it. Destroy it. Make it never come back. Ignoring her alpha, she put her knife to good use, snarling when her alpha grabbed her arm to stop her handiwork. “In the hole, mo leannan.”

  She stared at the whimpering piece of shit pinned under her legs. She was still on the ceiling, blood was starting to rush to her head. Her eyes darted to the Hell hole and she growled, clenching her knife harder.

  “There are more. Ye canna waste time.”

  More? There were more? She smiled, grabbed the wounded malanum, and tossed it into the Hell hole. She got goosebumps when she heard its screeching fade into the blackness. “Where?”

  “Ye tell me, lass. Hunt them.”

  Tilly jumped down from the ceiling. Her body felt disconnected and foreign. Not sparing a second thought to her state of being, she concentrated on finding another target. Maybe she could do more damage to it before her alpha commanded she send it back to Hell.

  Three malanum were in a corner staring at her. Had they watched what she did to their friend? Do malanum have friends? Feelings? Do they get hungry and feel fear? By the looks of the one in the middle, they certainly felt something. Rage most likely. She could work with that.

  Pulling out her gun, Tilly clicked off the safety and gripped her dagger with her free hand. Pop! She shot the one to the left. Pop! She took out the one to the right. Her heart raced but she didn’t have time to hesitate. She slung her dagger through the air and clipped the third malanum’s cheek because her left hand wasn’t as accurate as her right with knives. Shit!

  The malanum began climbing up the wall and abandoned his friends to save his own miserable ass. Tilly aimed her gun and fired, hitting her target in the back of the head.

  Hearing the blast of the gun and watching his head explode sent her spiraling down a rabbit hole she couldn’t afford right now. With a cry of frustration, she distracted herself by grabbing the first evil jackass and dragging it towards the Hel
l hole. Black inky fluids smeared in a trail across the warehouse. For being lanky and boney, these things sure did have some weight to them. Valor didn’t help her toss the enemies in the hole. After she disposed of the three bodies, she collapsed on the ground.

  Triggered by the sound of those gunshots, Tilly burst into tears. She didn’t see the last malanum running straight at her, mouth agape, claws out. Another gunshot echoed through the warehouse and scared the shit out of her.

  She looked behind her to see a black lump on the ground about ten feet back, and Valor standing off to the side, his gun still pointed and ready to shoot again if necessary. Fear and anguish warred in her. Tilly sobbed so hard she couldn’t hear anything but the beating of her heart.

  Valor didn’t say anything as he grabbed the malanum and tossed it back into the Hell hole like it weighed no more than a soda can. As she sat there shaking and crying, Valor silently approached. He knelt down and dipped his head so she could see more than his knees. “Ye did well, mo leannan.”

  She knew she’d done well. All the way until she fucked it all up. “The pop,” she cried. “And hitting him in the head did me in.” Her sorrow renewed just saying that much and she cried even harder.

  “What’s the matter? Is she hurt?”

  “No, Bishop, I think the gun firing was a trigger for her,” Valor took the gun out of Tilly’s hand and shoved it into the back of his pants. He kept close but didn’t touch her.

  “Fuck, Sweetness, please don’t cry.” Bishop tried to scoop her up, but she jerked away from him.

  “Let her walk out on her own,” Valor’s command was non-negotiable, “when she’s ready.”

  “This was a bad idea,” Drake boomed from the busted doorway. “She’s too fresh for hunting.”

  Tilly started to ugly cry now. Fresh was right. She’d just died. She was a dead woman with a soul that now belonged to the Devil and no amount of soft leather in her wardrobe, nor shiny sharp weapon, was going to make her feel like she wasn’t a victim. And feeling like a victim was the worst sensation in the entire world.

 

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