Hard to Find (Hell Hounds Harem Book 4)

by Briana Michaels

  “I’m going to have to smuggle ye out of here, lass.” He looked up at her and Tilly’s breath hitched. He looked… Ugh, stop thinking with your head in the fucking gutter, Tilly. For crying out loud, now is not the time for this shit!

  “Are ye ready?” Valor stood and towered over her.

  She didn’t have much choice other than to go with Valor for now. She couldn’t go back to her apartment, and she couldn’t stay here in the hospital and she definitely needed to get the hell out of here as fast as possible. That creeper was still out there and he most likely worked for Marco. It made perfect sense. He must have been tailing her, following her around the city, and finally reported back to his boss about where she was living. Asshole.

  And the shittiest thing about it was, he had been so damned good looking.

  What the fuck was up with all the hotness lately? She growled, “What the fuck is wrong with you, woman?” Tilly talked to herself as she marched towards the door to leave, “You’ve got the most fucked up views.” She glanced at Valor and shrugged, “Sorry. I wasn’t talking to you.”

  Valor arched an eyebrow and almost smiled, “I’m used to that sort of thing. Ye have met Bishop, right?” He opened the door and brought Tilly in close to him, tucking her in tight under his arm. “Stay quiet.”

  Nurses were talking over by the desk, there was a patient with an IV rack shuffling down the hall, and an old woman with a bag of food was heading towards one of the other rooms in the opposite direction they headed in.

  Tilly and Valor made it to the elevators and Valor hit the down button with his middle finger. Once the doors opened and they stepped inside, he didn’t let go of her like she expected him to. Tilly didn’t try to pry herself out of his grip, either. Valor was warm, smelled nice, and gave her a weird sense of comfort, which she really needed right now.

  Tilly wasn’t some badass ninja warrior who handled her shit with grace and skill. She’d only gotten this far in life with a bad case of fuck its and luck. So yeah, if Foxy Boy here was going to offer her help, Tilly would take anything he had to offer.

  Once they reached the bottom level, Tilly figured they could walk out of here like two visitors and be good to go, so when the door opened and Valor held her tighter, she didn’t understand it.

  Valor pulled out his cell and made a call, “Aye, I’ve got her downstairs. Meet us out front.” He hung up and escorted her out the front door. “Bishop didna give them your real name and we paid cash for the bill so there’s no need to fret over a paper trail. We’ll have someone scrub the file from the database regardless. Whoever this Marco is willna find a record of ye having been here, lass.”

  Holy shit, she hadn’t even thought of that.

  Just then, Bishop came out of nowhere. “Tilly.” He said her name with so much relief, it made her heart flutter. She would have run into Bishop’s arms if Valor would just let go of her.

  But Valor continued to hold her tight. “I was afraid she’d run once we got down to the first floor,” he said in low tones. “I’ll leave her with ye now. Get her home safely and stay there until I return. That’s an order, Hound.”

  “Wait. Whoa.” Tilly was already being steered away by Bishop and she swerved around to see Valor walking in the other direction. “What the hell is happening here?”

  Valor didn’t respond, the son-of-a-bitch. He kept walking away until he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

  Bishop squeezed Tilly’s hand, redirecting her attention, “You’re staying with us and we’re going to protect you.”

  “In exchange for Marco’s information so you can get that book back?” She couldn’t tell how pissed she was nor how grateful.

  Bishop looked like he was going to say something, but instead, he clenched his jaw tight and nodded.

  Again, what choice did she have at the moment? None. So she would play nice for now. Unless they tossed her into a hole in the ground, like some Silence of the Lambs shit, she would find a way to escape once they let their guard down.

  There was just one small, teensy-weensy little problem with this plan: Some fucked up part of Tilly was already dreading the day she’d have to walk away from them.

  Chapter 18

  Valor couldn’t get the scent of that woman out of his nose. Her hair smelled like rosemary and even though she’d been violently ill, her skin still carried the fragrance of female and she smelled divine. As he marched down the street and headed towards his car, Valor kept a wary eye out for malanum.

  Och, what he wouldn’t give right now for a swift and vicious hunt. His aggression and desire warred within him and if Valor didn’t stab something soon, he was going to lean the other way on the Hound spectrum and want to fuck hard enough to be bedridden for days.

  Right now wasn’t the time for either of those things. He arrived at Tilly’s apartment prepared to look for the book and grab some of her things. Bishop offered to do this while Tilly was in the hospital, but Valor denied his request. He wanted that Hound guarding the outside of the hospital while she recovered. Besides, Valor wanted to learn a little more about the woman they would now harbor in their home.

  As if he needed this responsibility added to his plate right now. Maiden, Mother, and Crone, what the fuck was he thinking offering to help her?

  He knew damn well what he’d been thinking and none of it was altruistic or honorable. Valor would do anything to find the twins and this was his best shot for now. Seeing Matilda Jane in The Blue Lizard was a sign, Valor was convinced of it. The more he learned about this woman, the louder his instincts roared to keep her close. The fact that she worked with magic was an even bigger sign. And when Bishop scaled the walls with his Hell Hound power, she didn’t freak out at all.

  Either she knew more than she let on or she was more than she let on. Time would tell.

  Valor arrived at Matilda Jane’s building and cautiously entered her apartment. The door was still slightly ajar, so he slid into the space like a shadow. His first instinct was too scan for malanum. He found none. Actually, there was nothing here at all.

  “Gods,” he whispered. Whoever came here had wrecked her place, but there was a minimal mess. She didn’t have much in this small space. Valor sniffed the air, trying to capture the scent of the intruder so he would know it when he smelled it again. It was a harsh cologne and a faint scent of cigarettes.

  It didn’t take long, considering the apartment was the size of Valor’s office at home, for him to go through the place and confirm that the book was indeed gone.

  Random drawers and three small cabinets in her kitchen were all left open. So was the freezer door. There was a piece of paper on the refrigerator: “Bucket” was written in bold lettering with a few lines crossed off. He snatched it and stuffed it into his pocket to read later. Now wasn’t the time to get sidetracked.

  Growling in frustration, the Hell Hound went over to a heap of clothing on the floor and grabbed what he thought were useful before rummaging through her closet next. Valor froze when he saw a lock on the inside of the closet door. What the hell? What kind of trouble did this lass get into that she would need to lock herself in the closet?

  A deadly growl rose from his throat. No woman should feel so frightened that she would have to lock herself away. Was it paranoia? Caution? Or something even more dangerous like habit?

  Valor examined the tiny space more thoroughly. The hardwood floor held the scent of cleaning products. There were also a few scratches in the wooden planks, like fingernails had carved ribbons into the floor.

  “Christ, almighty,” he groaned. In the corner of the closet was a wooden spoon, which he picked up. “Teeth marks,” he whispered to himself. “Maiden, Mother, and Crone, lass, what is all this?”

  He took the spoon and stepped out of the apartment with a duffel bag full of women’s clothing and a great weight in his heart. Something told the Hound that Tilly wasn’t just important to the pack, she was probably going to be detrimental to it, too.

&nbs
p; One thing at a time, he thought. First get the book, then find the twins, and then find a way to handle Matilda Jane.

  Bishop drove home with the windows cracked down. He tapped along to the song playing on the radio, looked over at Tilly and smiled, trying to coax her to get into the music more. When she didn’t, he cranked up the volume and scream-singed to the song. “Oh yyyeaaahhhhhhh- ahh-ahhhhh.”

  She almost laughed. Almost. “You know what that song’s about?” Bishop turned the radio back down, “It’s about a man in war.”

  “It’s about resilience.” Tilly stared out her passenger side window.

  “Same, same.”

  Tilly crossed her arms over her chest. Tilly was in a war herself right now. It was against the world, against fate.

  “You hungry, Sweetness? I can stop and get you something. We don’t have a lot of food at the house and I’m sure with everything you’ve yacked up, your stomach is probably trying to digest itself now.”

  “I’m okay, just really thirsty.”

  “There’s a case of bottled water on the floor in the back.”

  Tilly twisted around but didn’t see the water, so she unbuckled her seatbelt and halfway climbed into the backseat. Stretching as much as possible, she grabbed a water and guzzled the whole thing in four chugs then grabbed another. Fuck it tasted good.

  She spat her gum out into the second empty water bottle and reached for a third. The entire time, she didn’t pay attention to the road like she should have. Call it denial, numbness, or a fake sense of relief, but Tilly didn’t feel worried with Bishop.

  She had seen enough shit in her short life to know there were more than just humans roaming around. He could be some kind of demon. Could be a Hell Hound. Could be something else…

  After a while, they arrived at a gate. Bishop hit a button on his visor and the gate swung open so he could drive through. When they pulled up to the house, Tilly had to pick her jaw up off her lap. “Nice place.”

  “Thanks,” Bishop pulled around to the top of the circle and parked by the front door. He hopped out and went around to help her out of the truck like a gentleman. “I’ll call for delivery. You like pizza? Subs? Chinese? Name it and I’ll have it sent. I’m not much of a picky eater, so I’ll gobble down anything, but I want you to have whatever you want.”

  Geez, Bishop was a talker. Tilly couldn’t figure out if she was just now realizing this or was his chattiness a new thing.

  “I’m not picky either. I like everything.”

  Bishop unlocked the front door to the white mansion and held it open for her. The breath whooshed out of Tilly’s body when she stepped inside. “Wow,” she sighed.

  It was a lovely home. Sleek, modern. It smelled faintly like fresh paint and new carpet. The imperial staircase was exquisite with its white marble and iron rails. It was seriously impressive.

  “Come on, Sweetness.” Bishop grabbed her hand and started leading her up the steps. She went along with it because, again, what choice did she have right now. Once they reached the top, Bishop took her down the hall and into a bedroom that was most definitely his.

  It smelled like Bishop in here. His room was painted in neutral colors on the cool side. His bed was unmade. Clothes littered the floor. A few pieces of artwork hung, but weren’t by any artists she was familiar with. They must have been commissioned. If they were prints from a famous painter, she’d have recognized them.

  Tilly put her hands on her hips. “You mean to tell me that there isn’t a spare bedroom in this big ass place, Hound Dog?”

  “None that are set up for company,” Bishop smirked, “But while you shower in there,” he pointed at his private bath, “I’ll get a room ready for you.”

  She felt a wave of relief.

  “And here’s a charger for your phone.” He handed her a plug and turned to leave so she could have privacy.

  Sooo, yeah… this was… mmmph… Tilly didn’t know what the fuck this was. She hurried into the bathroom, then shut and locked the door.

  “Good god.”

  The bathroom was gigantic and decorated with white subway tile, marble, and stained glass. The shower boasted three nozzles and a wide bench. Live plants climbed the side of one wall adjacent from the window, and extra fluffy towels hung on a warming rack. There were two different kinds of razors on the counter along with some shaving cream and a bar of soap. There was also a beard brush and some kind of oil.

  Now she felt super weird. This was Bishop’s private space and he’d just let her in without even trying to hide anything first. She could snoop around all she wanted in here and he’d never know.

  Clearing her throat, Tilly slipped out of her clothes and started the shower. While the water warmed up, she snooped through his cabinets to see if he had a spare toothbrush. There was no such luck so she guzzled the mouthwash she found in the bottom of the vanity and prayed it would be enough for now.

  Next, she got into the shower and sighed loudly. Fuck it felt good to be drenched in heat. Her muscles began to relax and she grabbed the bottle of shampoo and got to work. Too bad cleaning her body wasn’t going to scrub away her troubles.

  Valor walked in with a bag full of Matilda Jane’s belongings strapped to his shoulder. He heard Bishop ordering food from the kitchen so he went in to check on him and their new houseguest. Once Bishop hung up the phone, Valor asked, “Where is she?”

  “Upstairs, in my shower. I wanted to order her food before I made up the spare room.”

  “I’ll help ye,” Valor carried the glittery pink and white duffel back with him and took the steps two at a time. “I didna find the book at her place. It’s gone.”

  “You so sure we should be looking for it right now, Alpha? I mean, given that—”

  “Given that half our pack is missing and we’ve not a trail or scent to follow? Aye, this is a good plan. It’s the only plan.”

  “It’s bad fucking magic,” Bishop growled.

  Valor wasn’t going to argue. Lucifer had strict rules about what magic they could and could not use, but right now Valor didn’t give a flying fuck. He also knew that a lot of Bishop’s unease stemmed from what had happened the night the twins went missing.

  Bishop rubbed the back of his neck as he reached the top of the steps. “I can’t even begin to understand how a woman like her had a book like that.”

  “We doona ken a thing about this woman, Hound. She may look like a rose, but…”

  “She’s not a bad person. She’s just in a bad way.”

  Valor wasn’t going to argue with that, either. Not yet, anyway.

  “Why do we have to focus on this damn book? Why can’t we just ask Lucifer for the boost in spells or something?”

  Valor stepped into the spare bedroom and marched over to the linen closet in the bathroom. “The Devil canna perform any kind of dark spells right now.”

  Lucifer’s balance, after what happened with Hell’s walls not too long ago, was in terrible shape. His good side and bad side weren’t to be tipped, for any reason. Valor and Bishop were on their own with the hunt for the twins – with the help of a few other packs who were keeping their eyes and ears open for clues. Asking Lucifer to help with magic would cost Satan too much. Cost the world too much.

  “If Lucifer could help us, he would have by now. Ye ken that as well as I do, Hound.” Valor turned Bishop’s attention to something else, “Ye could have let her take a shower in here,” he growled.

  “So?”

  He tossed Bishop a set of sheets. “Ye take that end; I’ll get this one.” Together, they made the bed and Valor pounded the pillows to fluff them up. Just as he went to retrieve some extra blankets, he heard a sound and froze to listen better.

  A light melody rang out from across the hall.

  Gods, he thought, what a voice.

  “That woman can carry a tune,” Bishop’s smile was huge and obnoxious. He went for the blankets while Valor just stood there, dumbfounded. “And she’s got one hell of an ass too, in ca
se you failed to notice, Alpha.”

  Val gripped the pillow so hard he almost tore the fabric. Once, right after Bishop was exorcised of the malanum in his body, they had a discussion about women. Valor said he wanted a woman who could sing. Didn’t matter if she was good at it or not, he just liked the idea of a woman who would belt out a tune if it pleased her. But this? Tilly’s voice was straight up angelic.

  And Bishop was right, the dirty Hound. Tilly had an ass that beckoned for a good spanking. Round, full, and perfectly proportionate with the rest of her curves.

  Valor cleared his throat and tossed the pillow back on the bed. “I’ll call ye down when the food arrives. See that she doesna try to sneak out of the house by climbing out of a damn window.”

  He left Bishop to set up the rest of Tilly’s things. Gods, what have they gotten into? Every step Valor took to get out of there, his body roared to pivot and get closer to her instead. It was maddening. She had a siren’s voice and Valor wanted to sink down into the depths just to keep hearing it. She was a vixen to boot. If he didn’t know any better, Valor would accuse of her being sent by the Devil. Only a creature made for Hell would be so divine and alluring.

  “Hell and Heaven help me,” Valor finally made it down to the first floor. He just allowed a black magic spinner, who had enemies coming after her, into his home and made her a goddamned bed.

  Trouble. Matilda Jane was going to be big fucking trouble.

  Gods, what a woman.

  Chapter 19

  Bishop really had zero boundaries. He opened the glittery pink and white duffel bag and thought to himself, This is not my business. I’m probably crossing the creepy line right now touching her belongings. Fuck it, after everything she’d been through lately, Bishop wanted her to feel as comfortable as possible, which meant he would unpack her bag and make sure everything was folded or put away nicely.

  He hung up a bunch of wrinkly clothes into her closet and even set out her toothbrush and toiletries on the bathroom counter. He couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Valor thought to grab Tilly’s shampoo and whatever the hell this face cream gloop was in the glass jar. Hounds weren’t strangers to women, they knew how particular those creatures could be about their products. Women, not the Hounds.