Hard to Find (Hell Hounds Harem Book 4)

by Briana Michaels

  She was silent for so long, he was about to regret asking when she finally piped up with, “Never.”

  Another piece of his insides crumbled. “Why not?”

  “For lots of reasons. None of which I really want to talk about right now,” she propped her head up to look at him, “Are you trying to ruin the mood more than I did? Because if so, you’re doing a fantastic job, Hound Dog.”

  Bishop laughed and forced her head back down to rest on his chest. “How about we start over.”

  “Again?”

  “Mmm hmmm. Third time’s a charm, right?”

  Tilly reached down to wrap her hand around his dick and he caught it before she had the chance. Then he brought her hand up and kissed the back of her knuckles. “I’m Bishop.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “And you are?”

  “Are you joking?”

  “Nope, I’m Bishop.” He smiled into her hair, “And I’m a Hell Hound. It’s nice to meet you… what was your name again?”

  Tilly laughed despite how flustered she was. “I’m Matilda Jane. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

  “Come here often?”

  “Only once.”

  Bishop laughed so loud she jumped. When he finally settled back down, she propped up on one arm and rested her leg on his thigh. Being like this with her in his arms felt really fucking good. “So… Matilda Jane, that’s a nice name.”

  “Tilly. Just call me Tilly.”

  “Tell me something about yourself, Tilly. Something no one else knows about you.”

  “Are we actually doing this?”

  Bishop cocked an eyebrow and waited for her to give him an answer to his question. They stared at each other for a long minute and she huffed, “Fine. Okay.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully, “I’m scared of heights.”

  He didn’t believe that for a minute. He found her on the rooftop of her apartment the other night. “Really? So why did you live on the top floor of that building and go up on the roof?”

  “Because I think you should face your fears head on. Just because I’m scared to do something doesn’t mean I won’t do it.”

  This woman was fearless. “Nice,” he grinned. He traced a circle around the tattoo on her ass with his middle finger. “Your turn to ask me something. If you want.” Would she want to know shit about him? He hoped so.

  “When did you first realize you were claustrophobic?”

  Ouch. She went right for the jugular. “A long time ago.”

  “Tell me the story.”

  It wasn’t a question. It was a command. He debated on changing the subject and distract her with some kissing, but didn’t go that route. Later, he would look back on this and see if for more than just a sharing moment, but for now, he figured if he was going to expect her to help them find the twins, he needed to establish some trust. Trust came with openness. Openness came with sharing shit about yourself you might not necessarily want to share.

  The last thing he wanted was to sound like a fucking pussy. This story wasn’t exactly badass Hell Hound material. “I was trapped in something and couldn’t get out. I didn’t deal well with it.” There. That was the truth without any of the ugly shit attached.

  “What did you do?” Tilly lifted her head again to look at him, “When you didn’t deal well with it?”

  He had to stop himself from clamping his jaw shut. Inhale, exhale. It’s not a big deal, Hound. Just tell her the truth. She’s in the thick of it anyway, might as well let it all out. “I went crazy. Then I died.”

  Yeah, that was probably not the best way to answer.

  “You… died?” Was Bishop talking in code or something? He couldn’t have died unless he was a ghost right now, which he wasn’t, because his massive warm body was pressed against her skin and he was breathing. Ghosts can’t breathe, can they? Fuck, she didn’t have a clue. Tilly was in way over her head. “Explain.”

  It was another demand. She made sure to keep eye contact with him and wait. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest, its speed picking up until she thought it was going to burst. “I’m sorry,” she shook her head. “I’m not being very sensitive. You don’t have to tell me if it’s upsetting to you.”

  She moved her head off his chest to give him some space but he stopped her with a hand on her wrist. Gently, he placed it back on his bare chest. The tattoos across his pecs were exquisitely detailed, they looked life-like. “No, you should know what you’re with.”

  “What I’m with?” He meant who, right?”

  “We didn’t tell you how Hell Hounds are made.” Bishop swallowed and took two deep breathes. “I’m a dead man, Tilly.”

  “That makes two of us,” she tried to half-joke. Honestly, the way he was staring at her made her so nervous, her first line of defense was to lighten the mood a bit. It didn’t work though. Bishop’s intensity only seemed to grow with every heartbeat. “You’re serious?”

  Bishop nodded.

  “But you don’t seem dead. You’re not a zombie. Are you some kind of ghost?” Was she talking to a spirit the same way she could see the cree— uhhh, Baz or Drake? “Wait, wait, wait, start at the beginning, please. I want to understand this and I don’t think that’s going to happen without the whole story.”

  Bishop’s exhale was his surrender. “I was buried alive,” he spoke quietly. The pain in his eyes said he wasn’t even close to joking. “I’d been drugged and announced dead. I was put in a pine box. The drug wore off just as they started to shovel the dirt over my casket.”

  Tilly’s cheeks grew tingly. “Oh my god.”

  “I uhhh,” Bishop’s whole demeanor changed, he closed up a little bit, his gaze broke away from hers, “It took me a few minutes to understand where I was… what had happened. It was so dark and tight. There was no room to move. Everything was muffled. I couldn’t see. I didn’t understand what was happening until it was too late.”

  Tilly got a chill up her arms.

  “I tried to bang on the top of the casket. The smell of pine and dirt and worms filled my nose. I screamed for them to stop. For them to let me out.”

  “They didn’t hear you?”

  “Oh, they heard me. They just didn’t care.”

  Tilly’s blood drained from her face and she felt woozy. “Holy shit,” she whispered. “Why would someone do that?”

  Bishop pulled away from her and she let him. If he needed space to get out the rest of his story, then so be it. “What happened after that?”

  The way his shoulders bunched, the shaky exhale he made, the pain in his eyes, she would never forget this moment for as long as she lived. But she needed to know. “What happened next, Bishop?”

  You just had to go there, Bishop thought. Couldn’t you have fucked her senseless and never said a word? She has plenty of scrumptious body parts to stuff into your mouth to keep your tongue busy, but nooo you just had to get all personal and dark and sabotage this moment. Why did he have to do that? Because he wanted more than just her body. He wanted her secrets, her thoughts, and anything else she had to give. To get those things, there needed to be an exchange. A truth swap.

  Bishop sat at the edge of the bed, grateful the far window was cracked open a tiny bit so he could feel the breeze. It made telling the story a little easier because the wind was a good reminder that that was then and this was now. He was safe. Fresh air always helped his sorry ass cope with this past.

  “What happened next, Bishop?”

  “Well,” he looked down at his big, strong hands and saw the ink that stretched from his knuckles to his wrist to forearm. “I pounded my fists against the top of the casket. I screamed until my throat was raw. I tried to kick, but there wasn’t enough room. I was still too weak from the drugs and failed to splinter the wood.” He continued to look down at his hands. “I tried to claw my way out next,” he stretched his fingers, staring at his clipped nails, “I failed to do that, too.”

  He felt Tilly’s hand on his lower back and he cring
ed. “Don’t touch me right now. Not when I’m telling you all this.”

  “You can stop,” she said, “I don’t want you to have to relive something that awful.”

  “No,” he sighed, “You need to fucking understand what you’re living with.” Bishop turned to her. God damn she was beautiful with her round cheeks and sad eyes. “I’m not sure how long I lasted, but it felt like a month and a minute all at once. I tried to break through, but there was too much weight on the casket and my air supply ran out. I remember…” fuck you motherfucker, don’t you break down in front of her, “I remember asking why. Why me.” Why her? “Why this way? And you know what?”

  “What?”

  “No one fucking answered, Tilly. Because there was no damn answer. Sometimes shit just goes wrong and stays wrong.” There. That was the truth. He wasn’t going into the details of what put him in that casket. He couldn’t bear to retell that part of his dead man tale. Bishop cleared his suddenly dry throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I suffocated and died. Then,” he put up his finger to silence her before she could ask another goddamn question. “I found myself standing in front of an Angel.”

  Tilly straightened her spine and nodded for him to go on.

  “I was offered a deal. Become a Hell Hound and protect the living, or go to a place where there was peace and light.”

  “Heaven?”

  “I suppose,” he shrugged. “I don’t know because clearly I chose Hell Hound.” He stood and walked around to grab his pants from the floor. As he stepped into them he said, “I traded my soul for an eternity of protecting the living and I’ve never looked back.”

  “Satan,” Tilly scowled, “You sold your soul to Satan instead of going to Heaven?”

  “You bet your sweet ass I did.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  Bishop zippered his pants and reached for his shirt next. He needed to get the fuck out of here. Too much emotion was swirling in him and he couldn’t afford to go crazy in front of Tilly. “I had my reasons.”

  Tilly grabbed his arm as he tried to leave. “Why?” she urged. “Why would you choose this life instead of an eternity of endless joy and peace?”

  “That might be what Heaven is for you, Matilda Jane, but it wouldn’t have been for me. Heaven was my Hell.”

  “Why?”

  He closed his eyes and tried to reign in his agony. “Because,” he gritted out, “My daughter was there. Seeing her every day for the rest of my life would have been Hell.”

  Tilly’s eyes were round as moons, “Why?”

  Because I fucking failed to protect her. “Because I wasn’t worthy enough to be her father. And I didn’t deserve to be with her in the afterlife.” Bishop all but ripped the door off the fucking hinges to get out of that room. Storming down the hall, he almost ran into Valor. “Don’t,” he warned as he passed his alpha.

  Valor didn’t get close and Bishop was all too grateful to get the fuck out of the house and into the backyard. He sucked in the chilled air, his breathes turning ragged.

  Fuck the world and what it did to him. Fuck the world for what it’s done to his pack. Fuck the world for cursing Tilly. And fuck him.

  Dropping to his knees, Bishop tilted his head back. “Fuuuck!” he roared. “I hate you!” He pounded his fists into the frozen ground. “I HATE YOUUU!”

  Bishop felt like everything in him turned inside out and upside down. He’d just told the worst story of his life to a woman who should never hear such horrors. Shame on him for thinking being honest was a smart thing to do. And shame on him for trying to find a bit of comfort in the arms of an innocent woman who was in a fragile fucking state right now.

  Shame, shame, shame.

  Damn his motherfucking piece of shit soul, but Bishop wanted to run back up to her bedroom, hold her tight and be the man he wished he’d been in his first life. He wanted to be a good Hound for his pack. Fuck! He wanted his pack back so he could make up for what he might have done to them too.

  But none of that was going to happen because he was too broken and all he did was wreck everything he touched. Hot, unshed tears stung his eyes and he glared up at the sky again. Was his daughter looking down at him right now? Did she see what he’d become?

  “You’re better off without me,” he choked.

  Everyone would be better off without me. Bishop inhaled icy air and howled until his throat was raw.

  Chapter 31

  The air whooshed out of Tilly when she heard that animal howling outside. It was Bishop. Somehow, she just knew it was him making such a sad and terrible noise. After he stormed out of her room, she quickly got dressed, but that howl stopped her in her tracks. Actually, it rattled her so much, she had to sit back down.

  A knock brought her attention to the doorway. Valor stood at the threshold with a scowl. “Are ye alright?”

  “I’m not the one howling like a wounded animal. Your Hound is.”

  Your Hound. How could this all feel as normal as it did? Tilly suspected it was partly due to the fact that she’d studied and practiced magic since she was old enough to get away with it. She was no fool – she knew there were things out there that lived amidst the mortals. But Hell Hounds? Real Hell Hounds?

  Bishop didn’t look like a big black beast that did the Devil’s bidding. He didn’t have fur or talons or razor sharp teeth. Neither did Valor. And it was a full moon. Neither were shapeshifting. God, did Hollywood get anything right?

  Another thought crept into her. If Bishop died and sold his soul to be a Hell Hound, did that mean Valor had too?

  “How old are you?” she asked nervously.

  “Old enough, lass.” Valor moved into the room, looking uncomfortable. “Why do ye ask?”

  “Bishop told me how he died.”

  She heard Valor suck in a breath. “He usually doesna speak of that day. I’m shocked he shared it with ye.” The mattress sank as Valor took a seat beside her. “So now ye ken that we sold our souls for this life.”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “Do ye think us lesser men now?”

  What a crazy question to ask. Tilly looked over to see Valor staring at the floor and she said, “Not at all. To each their own, right? You must have had your reasons, just like him. I can’t say I would do the same, but…” she shrugged and didn’t say anything more.

  “Ye seem to accept things verra easily.” Another howl erupted from the open window and Valor squeezed his eyes shut, “We never share our stories or our secrets. This life is a verra lonely one sometimes.”

  “Probably because you have to move around a lot. Can’t stay in the same place for too long, right? Mortals would grow suspicious.” Valor looked surprised that she would guess that. “I watch a lot of movies, Foxy Boy. I’ve read a good amount of PNR, too, so I get it.” And also books of magic, but she left that out.

  “PNR? What the hell is that?”

  “Paranormal romance.”

  “Ah,” Valor cleared his throat and stood again. “How about we get out for a wee bit?”

  “Where too?” She was down with getting a little fresh air. As big as this house was, it really didn’t feel huge at the moment. It felt as small as her apartment. And she was still burning up. Annnd sexually frustrated, no thanks to her having ruined yet another moment with Bishop.

  They descended the steps and Tilly paused, “Should we tell Bishop we’re leaving?”

  “No,” Valor handed her a random coat from a closet in the foyer, “Leave him be. It’s best to give him space when he gets like that.”

  Tilly bit her lip and followed Valor outside into the night. The coat Valor gave her smelled like him. The scent made her insides flutter for some dumb reason. She inhaled deeply, like an addict chasing her next high.

  “Come,” he urged. “I want to show ye around.”

  The wind blew hard, but it felt good on her cheeks. Tilly was seriously fucking hot so she shrugged out of the coat Valor gave her and carried it instead.

  “You�
��ll get sick if ye doona bundle up. This weather has been brutally cold, even for this time of year.”

  “I’m burning up,” she explained. “Bishop said he figured it was because of the energy you gave me.”

  Valor touched her head with the back of his hand and frowned. “Christ, you’re on fire.”

  “I thought it was a fever but Bishop didn’t think so.” They continued walking. “He said it would go away once yours cools off.”

  “Aye,” Valor’s voice was gruff and low. “Maiden, Mother and Crone, I didna expect my energy to stick to ye. That’s never happened before.”

  “How often do you go around healing people?”

  He frowned harder, “Never. I doona give my gift out to anyone other than my Hounds.”

  Well now she felt a little special. Of course, he needed something from her, so she wasn’t fooling herself into thinking this was something it wasn’t. “Tell me about them. About Sebastian and Drake.”

  Valor’s features softened. “I was hoping ye’d want to learn about them.” He stopped in front of a large area with stunted shrubs and stone work. “This is Drake.”

  Tilly arched her eyebrow, “This nice big hunk of dead bushes and grass with some rocks is Drake?”

  He chuckled. “Look closer, lass. Really see the beauty hidden here.”

  Tilly walked around slowly. It was hard to see everything with it being night time. She bent down and looked at a series of stones balanced on top of each other. Were they cemented that way? Valor flipped a hidden switch and the area came to life with a warm glow, showcasing a lot more.

  “This stone is amazing.”

  “That’s Drake’s passion. He likes to take busted rocks and re-configure them until they fit together like that,” he pointed over to a large area with a fire pit in the center. Every rock was carefully chiseled and positioned to make a spiral in bursts of color variations. Some were smooth, others were rough, all laid down in a perfect display. It was a masterpiece of nature. “There’s a walking labyrinth in the garden as well.”

  Stunning, she thought. It must take an extreme amount of patience and thought to create something like this. “What’s that over there?” she pointed at a small building closer to the tree line.