by Julia Mills
“Me? What can I do?” I was running my hands through my hair, pacing back and forth and plotting an escape from Hell to keep my already dead ass from being flambéed and the crazy yente in the chair was telling me I had to save Hunter, the son of Cerberus. (You see the irony here, right? Okay, good. Because here is the part where I completely lost my shit.)
“Like I told you before, bubbala, you’re going to challenge Luci to a duel, turn into a Hellhound and rip out her throat.”
I launched myself at Matilda, landing squarely in her lap. Her flask flew one way, her lit cigarette the other as I grabbed the collar of her muumuu, pulled her face to mine and screamed, “I have no EFFING clue how to change into a Hellhound and Luci is the Devil’s daughter and… you are fucking crazy!”
Rolling her eyes as Hunter’s hands closed around my waist and he yanked me off his Auntie, Matilda watched as I fought against my Hunky Hellhound’s hold trying to get back to her and said, “Now, that’s the kinda fight I like to see and of course you can’t change into a Hellhound you are ‘the one unable to shift’.”
Totally stunned, suddenly hanging like a ragdoll in Hunters arms, I watched the squatty little demon witch take another swig from her flask, take out another cigarette and light it from the one already hanging from her mouth while muttering to herself asked, “What? Did she think I was new here?”
Unable to find my voice, I was glad when Hunter asked what I was thinking, “But Auntie, if she can’t shift then how can she be in a duel with Luci?”
Shaking her head and once again rolling her eyes, she gave an exasperated sigh before answering, “She has to schlep to Beatrix’s. What? Did ya’ think I was a miracle worker or something?”
I felt rather than heard Hunter’s deep inhale before he asked, “But wasn’t Auntie Beatrix shipped topside, to control the rogue witches?”
Nodding, Matilda tried to take another drink of what I was now thinking of as her ‘special juice’, because the more she drank the less sense she made, (And considering she was bat shit crazy when I met her, that is really saying something.) found the flask empty and tossed it aside before reaching into yet a third pocket on her ‘magical muumuu’ (Just go with it.) and retrieving yet another. After slurping a huge gulp and burping with satisfaction, she finally said, “Yes,” like a petulant child.
Another deep inhale from my Hunky Hellhound, this one with a slow count of three as he exhaled, before he asked, “And how is Heidi supposed to go topside if she can’t draw on her magic?”
Shaking her head and muttering something in yiddish, Matilda took a long drag off her cigarette and while blowing smoke in our direction tsked, “How the hell do I know? Do I have to do everything for you?”
Chapter Five
“West Virginia?” (Yes, I was screaming again. So, sue me. This shit was stressful.) “West-by-God-Virginia? Land of flannel and…”
Matilda’s hand slapped over my mouth as she shushed me and through gritted teeth whispered, “You want to be careful throwing the Holy Guy’s name around. Lucifer still gets a bit testy when you mention his dad.”
Nodding in agreement, mostly to get her nasty, smoky-smelling hand off my mouth and out from under my nose, I continued with a few less decibels when I could once again speak, “What the heck is your sister doing in West Virginia?”
“She was sent to stop a coven of rogue witches. Weren’t you listening?” She let out another exasperated sigh. “Anyway, the coven had resorted to the use of white magic and were,” she visibly shivered and shook her head, “healing people. If you can imagine that.”
Still not sure why that was such a bad thing, I motioned for her to go on, and after watching her roll her eyes with incredible exaggeration, (I wanted to say, “If you keep that up, they are going to get stuck that way,” but decided against it since she’d probably like them rolled up in her head, crazy bat shit yente.) and sighing like I’d asked her to give me a pedicure or something, she said with a click of her tongue, “Beatrix is the daughter of Hacate, the goddess of magic and witchcraft.” (I know you’re wondering why she and her sister have different mothers. I was, too and I never got an answer so I stopped asking.)
Holding up her hand, she started coughing so badly her ‘little bowl of jelly’ tummy jiggled all about until finally I handed her my glass of water with the hopes to hurry things along. After several gulps and a series of noises that otherwise would’ve driven me from the room, Matilda cleared her throat one more time for good measure and picked up right where she’d left off, “Now, before you go getting’ all high and mighty and telling me Hecate was a good goddess and all that freck, you remember I’m older than her and…the little kvetch is also in charge of necromancy and the stories I could tell you about how she fercockt that all up when she was learning. Oh vey! Zombie apocalypse, my tuches. It was a toga party at the cemetery run amok, but that’s for another time.”
She was once again tipping back her flask, which was cool as long as she kept talking, because at the moment I was contemplating a number of awful things, to and including, going to my boss, (You remember him, right? HUGE, three-headed dog, my Hunky Hellhound’s dad, Keeper of the Gates of Hell, the one whose gonna make me into a chew toy when I inevitably fercockt – to steal a word from Matilda – this whole thing up? Okay, good. Then we’re on the same page.) and telling him that I was his son’s real mate and would gladly give him the throne of Hell if he would save my rather round, nevertheless still mine and still in one piece, ass.
It took a few seconds, but old Matilda got her crap together and continued, “So, as I was saying, Beatrix was put in charge of controlling rogue witches and this coven in West Virginia was seriously out of control. It’s been a few years since I’ve talked to her, but she’s the only one I know of that can fix what your mother did to you.”
“My mother?”
Looking at me like I was the one with three heads, Matilda picked a piece of only the Devil knew what out of her teeth, looked at it, flicked it over her shoulder and wheezed, “Yes, your mother. You thought you got in this mess all by yourself?” She laughed out loud, which again, ended in her hacking and sputtering for what seemed like an eternity before she finally went on, “Your mother, what a schmendrik.” Pointing her first two fingers at me with her cigarette burning between them she spat, “Did that woman ever do anything good for you?’ Then shaking her head with such vigor that her triple chins swung back and forth, she huffed, “No… no she didn’t. That I could get my hands around her neck.”
Taking a long drag off her flask, she burped, again, before saying, “Well, she’ll be here soon enough and then that little goy is all mine. But until then, let me explain.” She looked at Hunter, who was still sitting behind me, with a flick of her fingers said, “Boychick, go get your Auntie some fresh tea, please doll.”
“Yes, Auntie Matilda,” my Hunky Hellhound agreed, rubbing my back and kissing me on the top of the head before leaving the room. (He really is a keeper. A little old for me, but meh, he only looks thirty-five – who’s gonna know? Now, that doesn’t mean that I’m not gonna chew him out for not telling me any of this BS before now. Oh no, no frikkin’ way. I’m getting the biggest, baddest diamond Tiffany’s of Hell, Inc. has to offer for all I’ve gone through. I mean if I survive and save him from a life with Luci. He owes me, right? Yep, I knew you’d agree.) When I turned back around, Matilda had gotten out of her chair and was standing right beside me, I mean, right beside me.
“What the fu…?!” I screamed before once again she had her hand over my mouth. Shaking her head, she got so close our noses touched and whispered, “Shut up and listen. I don’t want my boy hearing this. He’s fallen for you already and with his temper and the fact that you’re his one true mate…well, I’m afraid we’ll find out what has more fury than Hell if he gets miffed. You get my drift, bubbala?”
Trying not to gag as her fetid, old smoke, dead fish smelling breath beat against my face, I nodded and didn’t breathe again until she’d taken a s
tep back. “Your mother made a deal with some low level pawn broker demon, who sold her the soul of one of his customers before their time was up and let her use your soul as collateral. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, the schumuck’s customer came back early to collect what was rightfully his. When the schmendrick didn’t have the guy’s soul, also known as his magic, the dumbass pawn broker gave him part of your enchantment, the one you were born with, - the part that gives you the power to shift - to avoid an eternity in the River Styx as a fade for forfeiting on a deal.”
Taking a puff of her cigarette, she went on, “And you need that magic, now, more than ever, ‘cause without it we are floating down shit creek without a boat or a paddle. Unfortunately, I can’t help you, but I know my Beatrix can. All you have to do is find her.”
Unable to catch my breath, floored that even in Hell my good-for-nothing, piece-of-shit, worthless-as-tits-on-a-boar-hog mother had found a way to royally screw me up the old wazoo, I laid back on the couch, curled up in a fetal position and decided to stay right there for, oh let’s say a century or two, and that was where Hunter found me.
All but throwing Matilda’s cup of tea at her, he picked me up off the couch, sat down, put my butt on his lap and wrapped his big, strong arms around my shoulders while demanding in the most forceful voice I’d ever heard him use, “Auntie, what have you done to my mate? What did you say?”
“Nothing, boychick,” she cooed, sounding like a sweet little old lady instead of the she-demon-witch who had just put a handful of jalapenos on the shit sandwich that was my life and force fed it to me. “We were just having a bit of girl talk.”
Now, in retrospect, had I been in my right mind, I would’ve called bullshit and told Hunter what she’d just told me. Because at the time, I had no clue why the true extent of my mother’s betrayal was a secret but Matilda’s next words snapped me out of my stupor and had me up and screaming.
“But Hunter, my dear boy, you really need to get her up and moving. By my count, you only have sixteen days until your wedding to Luci and if your bubbala there hasn’t challenged and beaten the Devil’s daughter by three moons before the scheduled day of your nuptials, all of this will have been for nothing.”
Springing up from my Hunky Hellhound’s lap, I grabbed Matilda by the Peter Pan collar of her ugly ass muumuu, jerked her from her Laz-Z-Boy until we were eye to eye and her feet were dangling a good eight inches off the floor, put my nose to hers and with a growl that came from somewhere deep inside me, snarled, “Are you telling me that I have less than two weeks to escape Hell, get to West Virginia, learn how to turn into a Hellhound, sneak back into Hell, challenge the Devil’s one and only daughter to a duel and beat her?” I pulled her even closer, smooching her bulbous, age-spot-covered nose with my own, I asked, “Is that what you’re telling me, Aunt Matilda?” I said her name with all the contempt I could muster then flung her back into her chair, spun on my heels and marched out of the house, leaving the door hanging on a single hinge and Hunter roaring, “Heidi, come back!”
Stomping on every critter that dared slither, crawl or limp across my path, I had made it about halfway home when my Hunky Hellhound caught up to me. Grabbing my arm, he spun me around, grabbed the fist that I was aiming at his jaw and shook his head, “Heidi, why did you leave? What did Auntie Matilda say? Talk to me. We have to figure this out...together. I cannot…no…will not live without you.”
As hard as it is for me to admit, my usually rock hard, doesn’t believe in love, use ‘em-abuse ‘em-leave ‘em-in-the-dirt heart did a little flip-flop in my chest when the hottest guy I’d ever seen in my life (both undead and dead) said he couldn’t live without me but thank my lucky stars (If I ever had them.) that Lola had finally woken up from her Disco nap and was there to kick me in the ass and snap my backbone back into place.
Tearing my hand from his, I reared back and slapped him across the face. Hunter was so surprised that he let go of my other arm at which time I punched him in the gut, took a step back and screamed, “You can’t live without me? You, the big, bad son of Cerberus, can’t live without me, the stupid bitch who can’t even shift. Who got thrown into Hell because her mom’s a fuck up and sold her soul. Me?”
I twirled around, because frankly, if I kept looking at him, my anger would just melt away and at that moment my rage was all I had. So, I grabbed onto it with both hands, gritted my teeth and spun back around, bellowing, “What kind of…”
But the words froze in my mouth. There suddenly wasn’t enough air. My legs refused to move and heart beat so hard I was sure it was gonna pop right out of my chest. (Like one of those cartoons, you know the ones I mean? The character is standing there and their heart is on a spring bopping and out of their chest. Yep, that one!)
Standing before me, in the same spot that my Hunky Hellhound had been standing not three seconds before, was the biggest, scariest, fiercest Wolfman- looking creature I’d ever seen. He had to be ten feet tall with paws that could’ve palmed my head, muscles that looked like corded steel and long terrifying fangs that seemed to grow in length the longer I looked at them.
Finding my breath, I squeaked, “Hunter?”
The beast threw back his head and howled. I cursed Lola for her big mouth and myself for listening to her. Why does that hooker always get me into trouble?
Trying again, I gasped a quick breath and mumbled, a little louder than my previous squeak, “Hunter? Honey?”
To which the Wolfman leaned forward and roared, covering me and everything in a twenty-foot radius with slobber and spittle. I told Lola I would be finding an exorcist at my earliest convenience, if I lived through her latest attempt to kill me, and having her permanently removed from my brain, to which she replied, “Fat chance, hooker.”
Absolutely positive that if I ran, the Big Bad Wolf would chase me and eat me, I tried one more time. “Hunter? Is that you, or did this big guy eat you, sweetie?”
Before he could howl again, roar, or worse yet, cut me to pieces with his big sharp claws, I heard someone stomping through the burnout woods behind me. Dropping to his knees, the big wolf-type-thing bowed his head and believe it or not whined, just as Matilda came bursting into view, sweating like a sinner in church, spitting and sputtering and cursing, “Damn you Heidi! Now, look what you’ve done. You’ve gone and made my boychick mad.”
“I made him mad?” I shrieked, completely ignoring the huge Hellhound I now knew was Hunter and stomped over to Matilda. “I made him mad?” I pointed at where he was still on his knees behind me. “Are you telling me I caused this shit?”
Nodding, she lit up, took a drag and said, “Yep. Why do you think I told you about your mother when he was out of the room? He’s your mate, you yutz. He’s wired to protect you. The whole mate thing is real and now, you have to deal with getting him back to normal, cause,” she stepped up to me, pinched my cheek and winked, “You’re gonna need the big lug on your side and as his normal lovable self, bubbala.”
With a final pat to my cheek, she turned around and left. It took several seconds before everything that had just happened registered. It was probably the fact that Hunter, in Wolfman, scratch that, scary Hellhound form, licked my hand but however it happened, I was jolted from my stupor just in time to catch my last glimpse of Matilda’s fluorescent orange with royal blue and Kelly green hibiscus flowers on it and to yell, “How the hell do I get him back to normal?”
A quick glance at Hunter, who was now bathing up my arm with his large, scratchy Hellhound tongue had me adding at the top of my lungs, “And what the fuck is normal?”
Chapter Six
Having nowhere else to go and refusing to return to Matilda’s, I did the only thing I could think of…went back to my dungeon and looked for Bert. It wasn’t as hard to ‘sneak’ a ten-foot Wolfman through my special corner of Hell as it would’ve been through say…Times Square, but it was still a bitch and I’m pretty sure most people knew who he was which meant I had maybe fifteen minutes before, Luci o
r the Devil or Cerberus or any combination thereof showed up to kick my ass and take my man.
Working as fast as I could, I got Hunter into my dungeon, where he promptly curled up in the corner and fell asleep. “Wow! Thanks for the help there, big guy,” I huffed, walking around his huge sleeping form and making my way to what everyone around here referred to as my ‘quarters’. It wasn’t a suite at the Ritz but it was pretty good for accommodations in Hell - a one room studio that Bert said was the best he’d ever seen.
Pulling a fresh pair of undies from my drawer (Cause, well…you know.) and leather pants and a jacket from my wardrobe, I changed as fast as I could, pulled my hair up into a ponytail, applied fresh lip gloss and called it a win. Checking on my sleeping Hunky Hellhound, I prayed he’d stay asleep until I got back and went on an imp hunt.
Thankfully, Bert wasn’t hard to find. All I had to do was follow the smell of hellhound slop, coupled with the sound of off-key whistling and bingo-bango there he was. Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I stood in the shadows and waited until he looked up, at which time I waved my arms like a crazy person until he finally nodded that he was on his way.
Squeaky little red wagon and all, Bert ambled his way towards me with a cheery, “Hey, Heidi, any luck?”
“Depends on what you call luck?” I sighed.
His smile faltered for a second before he perked back up and said, “Oh, anything I can help with?”
“As a matter of fact,” I answered while putting my hand over his on the handle of his wagon and pulling them both behind me.
Catching him up as we hurried to my dungeon, I explained what Matilda had told me and that Hunter was now in Wolfman form, conveniently leaving out that it was my fault, and ended with, “Do you know how to get him back to Hunter form?”
“You have to go where?” Was his question, to which I replied, “West Virginia, but that’s not the pressing issue at the moment. Right now, I need to get Hunter back to being Hunter before Luci finds him, because I have a sneaky feeling she knows what makes him go all wolfie and so, if she sees him in his present form the gig is up, if you know what I mean?”