His limo stopped in front of him and the bulky Lucas stepped out. Bla’Gar was still violently mad at the Lycan for almost killing Raven. Severe punishment was due. As Lucas opened the limo door, Bla’Gar clasped the Lycan’s forearm. A whimper escaped the wolf as Bla’Gar increased his grip. He could feel the bones under the muscles crack with pressure.
“Home, Lucas, then to the dungeon with you. Am I understood, mutt?” Bla’Gar restrained his snarl as an elderly woman passed them. The Lycan’s jaws were clenched, his eyes wide in panic from the force crushing his arm.
“Don’t cry, little wolf, save the tears for your punishment,” Bla’Gar cooed. “Now, are we understood?” His last words ended in a low growl.
Lucas only nodded. Bla’Gar let go and climbed in while speed dialing the Alpha.
“My boy, how are you this morning?”
“Good, Mr. Bla’Gar.”
Bla’Gar frowned at the soft, quavering voice coming through the speaker.
“Now, I told you not to call me that, little one. Tell me, have Bruce and Niko returned?”
“Yes, they have Mr.— I mean Bla’Gar.”
“And Niko? Has he been bitten?”
The soft laugh on the other end relaxed Bla’Gar a fraction.
“Bruce is walking like a log, but yes the mating bite has been given. Niko will make a good wolf.”
“I agree, unlike some others in your pack,” Bla’Gar immediately pressed the button sending up the window, separating him from Lucas. The back of the limo was designed to soundproof, even from a Lycan.
“Hi, I’m James. Forensics.” James waved as Jessy and Raven walked toward the crime scene.
She blushed as James stood, took off his glasses and wiped them clean. If the twink smiled any wider his mouth would tear.
“Jessy, Para-Super Tact Division,” she said taking his hand.
“Hoo, the beasties. Enforcer, nice. You Rave’s new partner?” James nodded toward Raven in greeting.
“Can it, Jefferson,” Raven barked and stepped past the two.
“We’re going out for drinks later tonight, you wanna join?” Raven heard him ask, the twink clearly ignoring Raven’s command.
“Love to.”
Well, we have a hatching pair, the two geeky nerds on the force have the hots for each other.
“No, you can’t, we have class tonight,” Raven growled in irritation. Was he the resident babysitter now too?
“Class? No one said we were to attend class?” She sounded disappointed.
“Story of my fucking life, missy, now stop ogling the twink and come here.”
“What’s a twink?”
Raven grimaced and ground his teeth. Chetlér’s unexpected appearance had him all kinds of fucked up this morning, making him irritable, or maybe he was just mad at himself for letting the demon get under his skin. ’Cause that kiss...Raven gave an inner shudder, shoved his annoyance aside and walked to the crime scene.
“The weirdest shit this is,” James said coming up next to Raven. “So I figured it had to do with you, no way in hell a headstone snaps and breaks over someone, squashing their skull.”
Raven could clearly see that; the headstone lay over the top of the body, blood seeping out around its corners. The stone clean cut, from where the base was implanted into the earth. Half a bottle of whisky still gripped in the teenager’s hand.
“Wowsers,” Jessy said. At least Raven could give her credit for not fainting at the sight of a dead body like he had the first time.
“Did you find anything else, James?” Raven asked, reading the print on the poor kids t-shirt—All Hail Cthulhu—and rolled his eyes.
“No, siree, this is not my field of work. I didn’t want to touch anything before you showed up.”
Jessy knelt, “This seems like one really bad inconceivable accident. My hunch, Hellhound.”
Raven heard her words and stood flabbergasted, gulping at empty air. “How the hell do you know that?”
“First, Rave,” she tilted her head to the side, winking at James. “If you weren’t so busy with your lover-husband, toy-daddy, whatever he is, you could have read my file and seen that I studied the occult before enrolling in the Enforcer Program.” She turned to him. “I want to be an Enforcer, not a cop or a homicide detective, but an Enforcer.” She had a sternness to her face and fierceness in her eyes. Maybe Raven had bitten off more than he could chew with this one.
“OK,” he huffed, scratching his forehead. “What you know about them?”
“Hellhounds—Canis Lupus Diabolus.” She scuffed her hands together and smiled when Raven glared at her. He wasn’t here for a lecture, he left that for Professor Bloodimir.
“Originally created by Death to do his bidding, playing fetch with wandering souls that didn’t pass on to the afterlife. Some scholars speculated a hybrid litter had been bred through Cerberus and one of Death’s hounds, thus the Hellhound was born. No one truly knows what their purpose is, but going on history, they either guard Hell or hunt.”
“Hunt?”
“Ever heard of Welsh mythology—Cŵn Annwn?”
Raven shook his head hoping she was going somewhere with this at least. He had better things to do, like figure out what the hell was up with him and Chetlér and how he could set things right. God, was he that attracted to the demon? One night of lust and now he wanted to court him.
“It’s said they were companions of the deceased, guiding them into Annwn, the Welsh equivalent of Heaven. Though, the Cŵn Annwn also hunted during winter or fall —”
“What did they hunt?” Raven interrupted her great history lesson.
Jessy planted her hands on her hips, “They hunted murderers, Detective. They would chase them till they tired, just like the killers would do to their victims.”
Raven hissed, feeling his emotions boiling over into anger. This little fire princess was fanning the flames.
“My point is, Detective,” she continued, “that maybe our victim over here isn’t so innocent to begin with, but,” there was sharp glee in her words as if she was savoring the honey on her lips. “Cŵn Annwn have white fur which signified them as good. Hellhounds, on the other hand, do not. They have leathery black-grayish plated scale armor covering their backs and upper legs, leaving the lower body vulnerable. A whip-like tail that can cut through steel. Each paw is equipped with hooked claws laced with poison that could turn your organs to liquid. Their flat head resembles a lioness with bat-like pointed ears.”
The picture forming in Raven’s mind was a menacing thing that he didn’t want to face in real life…or in his nightmares.
“But most deadly, their breath, a sulfuric poison that’s toxic to humans. Once a person sees them three times —”
“You die.” Raven stopped her short. Someone really liked the sound of her own voice. Little miss flame hair had just blabbered on about nothing to help solve this.
She stepped close to him and dropped her voice to a whisper.
“Don’t play with a Pyro, baby, you’ll get scorched.”
“Pyro?” Raven looked at her. She beamed back, her eyes held flickering flames inside. He blinked and the flames were gone. He’d read about Pyros before, witches attuned with the element of fire, and now he had one for a partner? What troubled Raven was that Pyros obtained their true power from a demon father.
Maybe he deserved her scorn, or perhaps she knew how to help Raven forget his personal life and focus on what was in front of him. Either way pissed him off.
The teenager’s arms were laced with scratches which seemed different from ordinary claw marks. Each cut had seared skin around the wound.
“Jessy, can Hellhounds burn their victims?”
“Yes, Raven.” Her voice was proud, full of contempt when she spoke. Maybe she just wanted to be recognized as his equal. He knew he wasn’t normally like this; all morning he had been wrong, irritated at everyone and everything. Chetlér had rejected him and clearly throttled his axis.
“Hellhounds are little furnaces of Hell. Whatever they touch sizzles from their heat.”
“And the head stone? Cut with its tail?”
“Correct.” She bent down next to him.
“I’m sorry, Jessy. Like I said, bad night, and this morning… Chetlér just showed up unexpected. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“Freshán Chetlér?” Jessy’s face went white.
“What?” Raven asked surprised. There was something in her expression, something not good.
“Nothing, it’s nothing. Just stay away from him. He’s bad news.”
“Won’t be the first time I’ve heard that one.” Raven mumbled and stood.
“Jefferson, bag the kid,” he shouted over his shoulder to the forensic team.
“We’re leaving? You haven’t even fully assessed the crime scene.” She pointed to every visible area around them.
“Don’t need to, Jess. How’s about I take you for some breakfast? I have a hunch someone summoned this hound.”
“Wouldn’t be a bad hunch, but summoning is not gonna be possible.” She followed Raven out of the graveyard. “Usually Hellhounds do their own bidding, or drag their targets into Hell toward their Master.”
“Master?” Raven asked when they reached the car.
“Yeah, Hellhounds, or a pack of them, usually belong and only take commands from their Master. They are branded behind the ear with their Master’s symbol. It’s like a contract that binds them to that particular demon. They will only do their Master’s bidding and only their Master can control them.”
“Can a human summon a Hellhound?”
She shook her head and climbed in.
“You can’t. From birth the pups are branded, no one except a higher demon can command a Hellhound. By the way, where are we going, because I’m vegan?”
Raven laughed. The day was one surprise after another.
“The Drunken God,” he said as he started the car, “It’s a little —”
“I’ve heard of it, they’ve got good veggie fries.”
“Indeed they do, Miss.”
Bla’Gar walked down the steps toward the dark room, the chilled air wrapped around his human skin. Perhaps if he was human, he would shiver. The Lycan knelt naked in the center of the room, candlelight drawing eerie shadows over his skin. Lucas’ hands were clasped behind his lower back, his buttocks clenched. The blond fluff on his bottom caught the light, giving them a golden glow. A sweaty odor hung in the air along with a hint of nervousness, yet there was no fear. Lucas’ broad muscled back gleamed with perspiration. Vapors danced off his heated skin, emphasizing how much colder it was.
“I do not deny it, Lucas, you have a beautifully sculpted body. Many would be honored to have you as theirs.” And he is a breathtaking sight.
A sharp intake of breath resonated through the room. “I only wish to be yours, Master.”
Bla’Gar clamped his hand around the back of the Lycan’s neck, pulled him up from his knees. “Such ignorance. You are a fool to not see what is in front of you.” Bla’Gar’s voice rumbled, causing the candles to flicker. He leaned in, and had to stand on his toes to bring his mouth to the Lycan’s ear, his breath sending goose bumps over the mutt’s skin. Lucas’ arousal spiked with his touch and voice. Bla’Gar knew the Lycan was smitten with him, wanted him, would most likely do anything for him, but Bla’Gar had not even the slightest inclination to accept such gifts.
“We demons do not know love, Lucas. It is a rarity for our kind to find it. I had two lovers prior to meeting Raven. The first; a black French slave. I was young and stupid. Do you know what I did to him?”
Silence, not a word came from the mutt, not even a quickening of breath.
“I ripped out his tongue and fed him to my hounds.” Bla’Gar grumbled in his ear. “Watched as they tore flesh from his body while he futilely tried to scream, drowning on his own blood.”
Bla’Gar heard Lucas’ heartbeat increase rapidly.
“My second lover, I was more careful with. I had wed her. She was ignorant of what I was till the night of our wedding.” Bla’Gar swirled the bitter taste the memory left in his mouth. “I revealed her my true form, and she leapt off a cliff because she thought she was going mad.” He tightened his hold on Lucas’ neck. “I mourned her death, Lucas, I wept for her.” He released his grip, trailing his hand along and over Lucas’ shoulder, drawing the outline of his chest and down the center to the Lycan’s abdomen.
“As demons we are only taught hatred, anger, fury and pain. Twelve thousand years I hung, chained in a cage. Twenty-four hours a day I was whipped, battered, cut open, and raped. My organs were pulled from my body only to have them re-grow and be torn from my insides again. Some days they would peel the skin from me and rub me with sweltering oil, before setting me alight. My eyes would blister and melt from their sockets, my intestines turned to liquid as they spilled to the bottom of the cage, and then they would leave me until I would awake anew and start again.
“The iron and steel used to torture me with would become red hot from the heat, on impact it would burst upon my skin and the molten mess would burn, eating its way into my flesh. There it would stay, blistering and searing, as my flesh tried to heal itself.”
Bla’Gar reached for Lucas’ face with his right hand, and tilted it down to his gaze. Sorrow lingered in those gray eyes, tears silently slipping from them.
“Those were considered the lesser punishments, but I will not bore you with details of my nightmarish memories.”
“I wish to take them away, Master.” The anguish in Lucas’ voice was powerful enough to have brought any other to stay his punishment and cradle the mutt, but not Bla’Gar.
“In Hell, time is almost non-existent. A millisecond on earth is the equivalent of a year in Hell. My years of torture taught me something.” Bla’Gar gazed deep into the mutt’s eyes. “Through each pain induced second I learned to understand the gift love can bring. The tender touch a lover can flare. The stolen breath a kiss can snip.” The nails of his left hand extended, puncturing Lucas’ abdomen, causing a gasp from the Lycan.
“I will be damned if Raven slips away from me or if another tries to take him!” Bla’Gar snarled into the Lycan’s face, saliva flying.
“He does not deserve your touch, Master,” Lucas choked out.
“What the fuck do you know about who deserves my touch?” Bla’Gar sunk his talons deeper into Lucas’ flesh. “You know only lust for this human skin of mine. That’s what you long for, but there is someone…” Bla’Gar gently unhooked his nails from the mutt’s stomach, “someone that longs to hold you close, feel you breathe against them, a desire so powerful they just want to fall asleep to the sound of your beating heart.” Bla’Gar brought his lips to the Lycan’s ear one last time as Lucas dropped his gaze to the floor. Bla’Gar’s voice gently brushing over Lucas’ skin when he spoke. “You will shame yourself if you do not follow the path I push the two of you in. It would truly sadden me and demonstrate your own stupidity.”
Lucas raised his head, blinking, confused, “I don’t understand, Master,” he gritted out as the wounds on his abdomen began to slowly heal. “Please, I do not desire Méric’s touch as I do your—”
Bla’Gar silenced Lucas with a finger against the lips. “I will not hand you your punishment from this day forward, nor will Méric.” Oh, how Méric loved to see Lucas’ flesh bleed.
Méric, the distasteful Lycan, was a nuisance in the pack, always feeling he should be the one in control, but the relationship between Lucas and Méric was unique. Méric enjoyed inflicting pain on Lucas. Bla’Gar had allowed Méric to punish Lucas for one sole purpose—he hoped that the Alpha Seth would become infuriated, thereby sparking some flame in the young pup, forcing him to step up and take control, to be the Alpha that Bla’Gar knew he could be. But perhaps Bla’Gar had been going about it all wrong.
Lucas sensed Bla’Gar’s face inches from his own. He closed his eyes, saddened because Bla’Gar w
ould never touch him again even if it was only to inflict punishment.
“Maybe by his hands you will understand compassion, grace, and honor. Maybe if you allow him and yourself to be, you will know love, Lucas.”
As Bla’Gar stepped away and walked toward the stairs, Lucas fell to his knees in shame, disappointment clawing angrily at his soul.
The door opened, carrying a new scent Lucas knew well. He flared his nostrils as footsteps cautiously approached him. Forgiving fingers trailed over Lucas’ hard stomach inspecting the wounds. The lick of a tongue lapped up his blood. Lucas held his breath, eyes still tightly shut. His muscles quivered as his frame shook when delicate hands cupped each of his cheeks.
The soft voice was a silky melody playing in Lucas’ ears. “Please.” His breath blew against Lucas’ face, smelling sweet like chocolate, “I beg you. Look at me, Lucas. Just this once. Please, please look at me with your beautiful eyes.”
Lucas opened them, staring into the big green eyes of his small alpha.
“Hey,” his Alpha said, “there you are, handsome.”
A smile reached his alpha’s tiny mouth and Lucas came to realize, that since his alpha’s despair had befallen him not once, had anyone brought a smile to those lips. Not the way Lucas could, and now Lucas understood why his alpha smiled only when he was present.
There was a new crowd in The Drunken God eyeing them suspiciously, but then again there was always a new crowd in the tavern.
Raven walked up to the counter, Jessy close on his heels. Nervously she stood beside him her eyes catching every super displayed in the mirror behind the bar’s shelves.
“Holy shit, Raven! You could have warned me.”
Raven chuckled. “Well, what were you expecting with a name like The Drunken God?” Raven stared at her a bit puzzled. A Pyro should’ve been used to this, it was partly the reason why he’d brought her here, thinking she would feel more comfortable. On the other hand, witches in general were an odd lot, preferring not to be associated with others of their kind. They were always guarded when it came to speaking of their paranormal abilities.
Neon White Season One: A Tooth, Claw and Horns Chronicle Page 5