The Hellhound King

by Lori Devoti

  Sim tossed the cylinder in his hand. “Interesting. You’re saying Geir stole her from you? Perhaps a hellhound wasn’t the right choice for this job.” He slipped the locator into his pocket. “I’ll tell the portal guards to let you through.”

  Raf’s eyes narrowed. “I’m here to get her back.”

  Sim twisted his lips to the side. “Are you? You realize you stand out here? How exactly do you plan to get her?”

  Raf smiled. “As you said, I’m a hellhound. Hunting is what we do.”

  Sim snorted. “Bravado means nothing to me. The elf lords pay for results—nothing less.”

  Raf’s jaw tightened. “Do you still have the stone?”

  The Lord tapped his chin with one long finger. “Of course we do. What would make you think differently?”

  “And it can answer whatever question I ask of it?”

  “I’m not an expert on the artifacts of Alfheim.”

  Raf frowned. He had heard that in Alfheim there were three objects that could reveal past, present and future. Further research had unearthed the name of one—the stone of Ord. He needed the stone to look back in time for him, to tell him who attacked his family, who killed his wife, child and brother. “But the elf lords have it, and are willing to give it to me in exchange for Marina?”

  “Getting Marina is no longer the issue. As you know she is back in Alfheim now.”

  Raf raised a brow. “But you don’t have her. Her uncle does.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “That bothers you.”

  Something in Sim’s gaze flickered. “Alfheim is a strange mix of modern and ancient. While we, the Lords, embrace technology, many cling to old superstitions.”

  Raf didn’t comment, knew he’d learn more by letting the man talk.

  “There have been rumors for years that Marina is destined to sit on the throne of Alfheim. That the throne itself won’t be satisfied until she does.”

  “The throne?” Raf asked.

  Sim made a noise of disgust. “Ignorant peasants fed lies, by the royals I’m sure.”

  “So, this throne? It exists? Does a Lord sit on it now?”

  Sim’s gaze hardened. “It’s myth. The day Marina’s parents died, their throne disappeared. Obviously, it was stolen just so such a legend could be created.”

  He slid his mouth to the side. “However, legend still has power here—perhaps more than fact. And Marina’s name is tied to this one.”

  Raf smiled. He got it now. The elf lords were afraid. If the citizens of Alfheim believed this legend, whoever had Marina on their side held a huge advantage. No wonder the elf lords had been so happy when she had appeared to be working with them in Gunngar. And less wonder why they wanted her back.

  But Marina had betrayed the elf lords, been responsible for releasing Amma…. “What about Amma?” he asked.

  “The witch?” Sim waved his hand in the air. “Her spirit escaped. It was disturbing, but we have bigger issues at the moment.”

  Bigger issues, like keeping control of Alfheim.

  “I want the stone,” Raf stated.

  Sim tapped his chin. “I know you do, and it is still in play, but the job has changed.”

  Raf stepped forward, his hands automatically reaching for the elf lord’s throat. Sim raised his gun.

  “That is no way to get the prize.”

  With a growl, Raf stepped away.

  Sim turned his back on Raf. Raf fisted his hands at his sides. The elf was arrogant. The move was obviously meant to remind Raf of his inferior position, but only made Raf want to snap the male’s neck more.

  “The problem we have now is that Marina is firmly affixed in her uncle’s household. Geir is a master manipulator of the press, and he has, in a very short time, unraveled all the good we had done.” Sim turned back. “We had Alfheim accepting Marina as a part of the elf lords. For a brief time all of the uprisings settled down. Alfheim needs the elf lords, but they want a princess. We plan to give them both.”

  “Very generous of you,” Raf murmured.

  Sim ignored him. “Now that Geir has her back with him, things are touchy. If we simply grab her…rumors will spread. We need Marina to join us willingly.” He paused. “Or for it to appear that way.”

  “So, no grab and go?” Raf kept his expression bland. “Our deal was that I got her to you. I don’t remember any details on how.”

  Sim’s gaze was steady. “Our deal is done. You’re here asking for a new one. Lucky for you, I think we can make one.” He tapped his chin. “You weren’t the only spy I had in Gunngar. You realize that don’t you?”

  Raf stared off toward the portal. If he didn’t need the damned stone he would have left by now. The elf’s manner of speaking was grating and his attitude condescending. Raf could not imagine the spirited Marina he knew mingling with him or others like him. He jutted out his jaw; Marina and these elves…they didn’t go together.

  “These spies had some interesting stories—about a hellhound and the princess. If I hadn’t known there was a hellhound in Gunngar, one I sent there, I would have thought the stories insane.”

  Raf turned his head back to Sim, barely stopping a snarl from curling his lip.

  The elf continued. “This spy told me Marina was taken with this hellhound. He even suspected they were involved—sexually. What do you think?”

  “I think your spy left out a big piece of the tale. Marina rejected me publicly. She had me locked in a box. What kind of involvement do you call that?”

  Sim smiled. “One of a very smart princess. This spy, the one I mentioned? He wasn’t our…best. I discovered he’d left evidence of his work lying around. I suspect Marina found it. I suspect that is why she rebuffed you.” He took a step forward. “I suspect she is still taken with you—or could be, if the proper situation presented itself.”

  Raf shook his head. Marina had already told him her reasons for locking him in that box, but that didn’t mean everything else Sim said was true. Still, Raf’s mind wandered to their last time together, their kiss, her story. He swallowed, tried to shove down the guilt that surged inside him yet again.

  Still standing close, Sim rubbed his finger over the barrel of his weapon. “Are you saying you can’t do the job? Are you backing out? My offer of escort through the portal still holds.”

  Raf tensed, realized what he’d been doing. It didn’t matter if Marina had been taken with him, cared for him or, as he suspected, completely despised him. What mattered was that he turn her over to the elf lords and be paid with the seer stone for doing so. He couldn’t be swayed from why he was here. Couldn’t…

  He stared down the elf lord. “No, I can do the job. Just tell me your plan.” He forced the words through his teeth.

  With a smile, the elf lord shoved open a door behind them and gestured for Raf to step inside. Once seated in a small café, Sim laid out his plan.

  He wanted Raf to pretend to have feelings for Marina, to convince her to trust him, to tell her he’d come to save her from her uncle. Sim seemed sure she wasn’t with Geir of her own will, even without Raf confirming it. Then when Marina trusted Raf, he was to get her to walk away publicly, with Raf as her guard. Once she had declared her loyalty to the elf lords, Raf would get his payment and be free to go.

  Raf leaned back and placed one hand on the table. “And how am I supposed to get close to her? I don’t believe Geir will exactly open his doors to me.”

  Sim laughed. “You know nothing of elves, do you? Don’t worry about Geir. We’ll use his love of the media against him. He’ll have no choice but to let you in.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a phone. “I’ll make the calls now. In a few hours you will be sitting on a couch sipping tea with a princess.”

  Somehow Raf doubted he and Marina would ever sit idly and sip tea. When they were together, there was always something much more exciting to do.

  His heart beat faster, but he kept his emotions masked, fisted his hands and concentrated on why he was here. He couldn’t let gui
lt or doubt sidetrack him. Couldn’t let Marina sidetrack him. He had a job to do, that was all. Marina meant nothing to him, was nothing except a tool to get the stone.

  He repeated the words in his mind, as if saying them would trick his weakening heart into believing them.

  Chapter 8

  G eir held out the crystal as Marina leapt to her feet. “Something to help you remember what’s at stake.”

  She grabbed the box without looking at him, then hurried down the stairs to the sitting room where she’d left Ky, where the light on Geir’s computer had faltered.

  Ky lay on the ground. Tahl leaned over her, his ear pressed to her heart.

  “It’s beating,” he said, low, unaware Marina stood beside him.

  She fell to her knees, and pushed him away. “Call someone,” she yelled. She grabbed Ky’s head, twisted it to the side, and shoved her hair away from her neck. The ruby fleck was there, shining at Marina, mocking her.

  She held her hand above it unsure what to do. If she pried it out of her sister’s skin would it save her…or kill her?

  “It’s never wise to mess with something you don’t understand.” Geir entered the room, carrying a cup in his hand. “Besides, my niece…your sister…is strong, and if how she conducts herself otherwise is any judge, stubbornly hard to kill.”

  Marina’s hands balled into fists. She glared at her uncle. She hated him; she’d never thought that before. She hadn’t loved him, but she’d accepted him for what he was—but right now, at this moment she hated him. She glanced down at Ky. Slight shallow breaths whispered from her sister’s lips, kept Marina from throwing herself at her uncle and clawing at him with rage.

  “Stubbornly hard, but not impossible,” he continued.

  Marina bit her lip until it bled. How she wished she still had her blade.

  The doorbell rang. Tahl, who hadn’t left Ky’s side, glanced at Geir. Her uncle waved his hand and the younger elf walked from the room. Near the door he looked back, but Geir motioned again and the guard disappeared from view.

  “She’s been having these spells lately. Tahl has been a bit worried about her—although I assure him she’s fine. And she is…will be…as long as everyone remembers their place.” Geir walked toward Ky and tipped the cup’s contents onto her face.

  For a second there was no change, then her eyelids began to twitch and her heartbeat to grow stronger. Marina released a breath.

  “Niece…” Geir tapped the bottom of the cup with one finger, held it over Ky’s face and let the last few drops of liquid fall onto her face. “I feel the need to say that the inset…it wouldn’t react well to being taken out of Alfheim. You might want to remember that.”

  Ky took a deep jolting breath. Marina forced the hatred for her uncle out of her eyes, and smiled down at her sister.

  “Did I…I had another spell, didn’t I?” Ky asked.

  Marina brushed her hand over her sister’s forehead. “You’re fine. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “But—”

  The doors to the sitting room flew open, cutting off Ky’s response. Tahl and three other males entered the room.

  “Cas Dwin from the daily news with a photographer and a…guest,” Tahl said.

  Marina’s uncle started when Tahl made his announcement, but recovered, quickly taking two steps forward. As the second male stepped fully into the room, Geir froze, and all color raced from his face.

  But Marina hardly noticed. She was too occupied with her own shock, too occupied with staring at the last being she’d expected to see again—Raf.

  Her uncle recovered quickly. “Cas, I didn’t expect you. Welcome.”

  The reporter who Marina had met a few times before leaving for Gunngar stood back a bit studying her, and her sister. Ky, realizing they weren’t alone, attempted to sit up.

  Marina grabbed her by the arm to keep her in a reclining position. “My sister isn’t feeling well.” She glanced at the reporter, kept her gaze studiously off Raf. She prayed the rapid beating of her heart wasn’t audible to anyone besides herself, and tried desperately to crush the hope springing to life inside her. “I was just telling my uncle I thought time out of the mansion would do her some good, but he feels her health is better served staying here.”

  Despite not looking at the hellhound, Marina was aware of every move he made, even the slightest twitch of his fingers. He crossed his arms over his chest and openly stared at her, his gaze dark. He seemed to be absorbing the scene in front of him. It made Marina want to cover up, hide.

  The reporter shifted his gaze over the group, studied every nuance of what was passing between each person. “Geir, I believe you know Raf.” He gestured to the hellhound while keeping his gaze on Marina’s uncle, then shifted his gaze again to Marina. “I understand Raf is responsible for saving her royal highness from a rogue hellhound, and returning her to her family.” He frowned. “I wasn’t happy when I realized you didn’t give me the full story first time around. The princess, rescued by a hellhound…. Our readers will love this.”

  Geir muttered something, his gaze darting from the reporter to Raf and back again.

  Raf walked forward and bent to hold a hand out to Ky. Marina’s sister’s eyes widened, but she slipped both hands into his. With a quick and graceful tug she was back on her feet.

  Suddenly uncomfortable on the floor, Marina rose, too.

  Ky stared at Raf as if he were a prince straight out of some human fairy tale. Remembering her sister’s questions about what it had been like to be abducted by a hellhound, Marina slipped her arm around her sister’s waist and pulled her against her side.

  The reporter’s gaze settled on them for a second, then he turned back to Geir. “After how well we’ve worked together over the years, I’m assuming you haven’t told anyone else. Raf has agreed to give me an exclusive, but he wanted to clear it with you first. He was very concerned that you might not want the story to get out. That isn’t true, is it?”

  Geir’s hands shook; the cup he held clattered to the floor. He didn’t look down, didn’t acknowledge the dropped item in any way. “Cas, you know that anything I deem important enough to share with the press, I share with you first. I just didn’t think…” He waved his hand and stepped forward, his heel crushing a bit of the porcelain cup as he did.

  “That Alfheim would want to know how their princess was rescued? To meet her prince?” Cas pulled a small recorder from his pocket. “Do you mind if I have a few moments with her royal highness? Some pictures perhaps? With Raf?”

  Geir stuttered and paled. “Her prince…I hardly think—He is a hellhound. I know Alfheim has become more liberal, but seriously—”

  Cas laughed. “Oh, I only meant that in the rescuing sense. It makes for a great headline, though, don’t you think? Her hellhound prince…” He shook his head. “And with things the way they are in Alfheim right now—” he curled his lip “—nothing would surprise me. And it is unique. Hellhounds don’t come to Alfheim. Readers will be glued to this story.”

  Ky’s fingers slipped into Marina’s, reminding Marina she was there. She squeezed. Marina squeezed back. She needed her sister now—was glad her desertion hadn’t seemed to affect Ky.

  Their uncle closed his eyes, then opened them. Resolve shone from behind his green gaze. Marina could see his intent—to blow a hole in Raf’s tale, to get the hellhound expelled from Alfheim, or worse.

  She stepped forward. “Yes, Raf saved me. I don’t know what I would have done without his assistance. The other hellhound, he…” She shivered.

  Behind her, Ky let out a sigh, and Cas’s eyes lit up. His fingers wrapped around the recorder, and he stepped closer. “Would you be willing to talk about it?”

  Geir held up a hand. “Marina has been through so much. We didn’t want to distress her by making her relive everything. I’m sure you understand.”

  Marina patted his arm. Her years playing the perfect princess were serving her
well now. “My uncle is overprotective. Actually, I spoke with a doctor, and he suggested talking about everything might help me work through it.” She lowered her voice as she said the last.

  Nodding, Cas leaned closer. His eyes were huge and eager. She had him hooked. Keeping her gaze away from her uncle, she slipped her hand through the reporter’s arm. “Would you like the photos first, or the interview?”

  Geir bounced back and forth on his heels. His gaze when it hit Marina was steely, but when the reporter glanced his direction he was springtime and smiles.

  Still the reporter seemed to sense the tension. “Photo I think. Then I can call you for the full interview.”

  “I think—” Geir started.

  Marina interrupted. “No, let’s do everything right now. I have no plans of talking to another reporter, but…well, the doctor did say I should talk to someone. Things can get out.”

  After that the reporter was locked on his mission. He lined Marina up next to Raf and the two posed for a multitude of shots. Ky, sitting on the couch, watched every move, seemed to suck in the scenes like they were part of a live play being acted out in front of her.

  Marina was amazed at her sister’s seemingly never-ending attention. If anything, Ky’s focus on what was happening grew more intense with every pose. To the point Marina felt uncomfortable when her sister’s gaze fell on her, as if she was doing something wrong, was guilty of some act Ky was about to call her on.

  Catching Marina looking at her, Ky smiled—a smile so sincere and filled with joy, Marina felt silly for her discomfort. She returned her sister’s smile, and put her all into playing her part.

  But after what felt like hours, Marina didn’t think she could play any longer. She was exhausted both by standing in the impractical shoes her uncle had provided and by the act.

  When Cas told the photographer to head back to the paper, she couldn’t help letting out a breath of relief. One glance at Raf assured her the hellhound wasn’t faring any better. His smile had turned to more of a grimace, and even it looked pasted on.

  While Cas walked the photographer to the door, Marina stole a second glance at the hellhound. She had no idea what had brought him here, or how he had managed to get an in with the reporter, but she couldn’t deny she was glad to see him. His presence upset her uncle. That alone was enough to make her happy. But it was more than that. She and Raf might have a less-than-perfect history, but they had a history—and strange as it sounded, an honest one. Except for that one moment when she’d had him captured and locked up, she had always been herself with him. Standing here in her uncle’s living room made her realize how important that was, how much she craved a relationship where she could be herself.