by Lynn Hagen
* * * *
“This isn’t right.”
Demonian watched his mate pace back and forth in the kitchen as he sat on the counter, his hands curled around the edge on either side of him. “They tried to kill me, love. They set me on fucking fire. Am I supposed to just let that go?”
“That’s my point.” Syphon walked over to Demonian and pressed his hands against Demonian’s thighs. Fuck, man. The love he felt for Syphon couldn’t be put into words. They had been through so much together, had fought so hard to escape Hell, and those bastards had tried to send him back, had tried to take him away from the only man who had ever meant anything to him.
How was Demonian supposed to just let that go?
“You yourself said we weren’t like the other hellhounds,” Syphon argued. “All we want is someplace where we can find peace. Do you really think chasing after these shifters will end on a good note?”
“Aren’t you the least bit upset about what they did to me?”
Demonian cupped Syphon’s jaw, and his chest grew tight when his mate leaned into his touch. “Of course I am. I wanted their hearts ripped out when you told me what they had done. But…” Syphon pulled away and started pacing again. “But is this really worth risking our freedom over? They were just doing their jobs.”
Demonian jumped from the counter and stormed toward Syphon. “Doing their jobs? Aside from Estelle, we haven’t hurt anyone. They were hunting us down like wild animals even before we came to this house. Being a hellhound warrants being killed without knowing the circumstances? Tell me how fucking fair that is.”
He didn’t like being short with Syphon, but Demonian couldn’t get past what Mitch and the others had done to him. He and Syphon might not be like the other hellhounds, but they were still hellhounds, which meant they had, or at least Demonian had, an inborn need for revenge.
Syphon grabbed Demonian’s hand. “Let’s just go. Mitch and the fox shifter will be found. Let’s just leave this place. We could go to some isolated island or simply travel the globe. I don’t care what we do. I just want to leave this town behind us and start living our new life.”
A war waged inside Demonian. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for Syphon. The guy was his entire world. With a grunt, he pulled his hand from Syphon’s and walked from the kitchen. He stared at the basement door, debating on whether he should leave with his mate or go down there and end their miserable lives.
“So that’s it?” Syphon asked when he joined Demonian at his side. “You’re just going to ignore me?”
“They tried to take me from you,” Demonian said through gritted teeth.
“Yet here you stand,” Syphon said in a calm, almost defeated voice. “You’re alive and ready to throw our future away.”
Demonian turned to look at Syphon. “I’m not throwing it away.”
Tears brimmed Syphon’s eyes, making Demonian feel as though he had been gut punched. He hated when his mate cried. Any other time, when tears were shed, Demonian would cave to whatever Syphon wanted.
But not this time. Damn it. Not this time. He couldn’t simply walk away.
“Fine,” Syphon said. “Feed the stereotype of our kind. Kill those men if that’s what you want.”
Knots formed in Demonian’s stomach as he watched Syphon walk out of the house. He balled his hands into fists and squeezed his eyes shut, cursing under his breath as a dullness settled in his chest.
Demonian opened his eyes and stared at the basement door. He grabbed the knob and turned it, ready to get his payback.
Chapter Seven
Stabbing pain shot down Mitch’s left arm. He hissed as his entire hand stung as though an army of red ants were biting him. Mitch gritted his teeth and suppressed the growl that threatened to spill. Pat was already afraid. Mitch refused to add to his mate’s anxiety.
“Mitch?”
Mitch forced his attention away from his hand and turned his head to look at Pat. “Yeah?”
“If we don’t make it out of here alive—”
“No.” Mitch shook his head. “We’re not going there.” He pushed from the floor and walked over to where Pat stood by the door. “Hey. Aren’t you Mr. Optimistic? Don’t go changing on me now. I can use all the sunniness you can give me.”
“We’re trapped in a windowless room right now. Am I supposed to pull the sunniness you need out of my ass?”
Mitch grimaced. “That sounds uncomfortable as hell.”
Pat gave him a wobbly smile. That had been what Mitch had been aiming for. The only thing Mitch wanted was to make it out of this situation alive so they could start fresh with their lives together.
The more he thought of what he and Pat were going through, the more solidified he was about no more field missions. The growing numbness was also a factor. Mitch wasn’t sure what was going on, but if his arm and hand were going to flip-flop between better and worse, he couldn’t take the chance of going on missions.
His little redhead would just have to get used to having Mitch around all the time.
Pat held up a hand as he pressed his ear to the steel door. “Someone’s coming.”
Mitch yanked Pat behind him as his canines descended. He took a few steps back, keeping his body between the door and his mate. Mitch’s body coiled tight. He blew out a few breaths to control his heartbeat and took a battle stance as he waited for whoever it was to enter.
“I’m scared,” Pat whispered. “I don’t wanna die.”
“You’re not dying.” Not if Mitch had anything to say about it. He had waited hundreds of years to find his mate, and he wasn’t losing Pat because some firstborn had beef with Mitch.
When the thick metal latch began to move, Mitch’s throat went dry. If he had been in this room alone, his fears wouldn’t have gripped him hard. But Pat was here, and as much bravado as Mitch had about facing his opponent, he was terrified that something would happen to his little fox shifter.
The steel door squeaked as it opened. Demonian stepped through, closing it behind him. He stood there staring Mitch and Pat down. What had Mitch nervous was the fact that Demonian wasn’t glaring hatefully at them. If he wasn’t mistaken, there was confusion in the man’s eyes.
Even so, Mitch kept Pat behind him as any hope and happiness he possessed drained away.
Demonian gestured his hand with a flourish to encompass the room. “You should have asked me why I was here killing that woman instead of attacking me.”
“Well, considering you were in your Rottweiler form, and you had three heads, I kinda wasn’t taking any chances,” Mitch said. “It wasn’t personal.” He held up a hand. “I was just fighting for my life is all.”
Demonian smirked. “I really hate smartasses.”
Mitch took a step back, putting more distance between the hellhound and Pat. “Okay. Tell me why you killed that woman.”
Mitch had to stall for as long as he could until help arrived.
If help arrived.
Please let Darren and Moose figure out where we are.
That was Mitch’s only hope to survive this. With his left arm regressing, he didn’t stand a chance of winning a battle against Demonian.
Pat curled his hands into the back of Mitch’s shirt while Mitch waited for Demonian to explain himself.
“You shifters and other creatures think you know all about my kind.” Demonian leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his beefy chest. “You haven’t the first clue about me and Syphon. You think we escaped Hell and are now on some kind of mission to torture and kill as many innocents as possible.”
Mitch shrugged. “That’s kind of what hellhounds do.”
Demonian slammed the side of his fist into the wall as he snarled at Mitch. Cinderblock crumbled and fell to the floor from where the hellhound had made a hole with his anger. “We’re not…fuck you. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“But you just asked why I didn’t question you first.” Mitch strained to hear any noises coming
from above, but aside from them, the house was silent. “Where’s Syphon?”
Hopefully not digging two graves in the backyard.
Demonian’s eyes flashed from rage to sorrow before he looked at the floor. “Do not speak of my mate.”
Pat gave Mitch’s back a nudge. “Don’t piss him off.”
“I think he was born pissed,” Mitch replied.
“I was,” Demonian admitted. “Until I found Syphon.”
The guy was still staring at the floor. If Mitch hadn’t been wounded, he would have used the opportunity to attack. But he was injured, and Pat was there, so he stayed put, praying some form of help arrived soon.
“Your mate,” Pat said from behind Mitch. “Your entire world changed after that.”
Mitch didn’t like the way Demonian eyed Pat. “What do you know about it?”
For fuck’s sake, don’t admit we’re mates. He’ll only use that against us. Mitch made a noise in the back of his throat, trying to warn Pat to stop talking.
“I know what love feels like,” Pat said. “I know a person in love will do anything for that one guy or girl that means everything to them.”
Demonian shoved away from the wall, balling his hands into fists. “And you tried to take that away! You tried to take me from my mate!”
Black hairs sprouted along Demonian’s arms as he flashed his canines. Mitch flashed his, too. He gripped Pat’s hip, ready to throw his mate backward if Demonian shifted.
Demonian curled his lip as he gave Mitch his back. Mitch had no fucking clue what was going on. Not that he wanted the guy to attack, but why was Demonian holding back?
“What’s he doing?” Pat whispered. “Is he waiting for you to attack him?”
“You two do realize that I can hear you.” Demonian turned to face them as he tapped his ear. “We all have supernatural hearing.”
Pat audibly swallowed then gave a nervous laugh. “Kind of forgot about that.”
Mitch was seething that his mate was so frightened. “What kind of game are you playing?”
“Game?” Demonian moved so fast that Mitch hadn’t had a chance to react. The hellhound’s hand was curled around Mitch’s throat as he lifted him off his feet. “You started this!”
“If we could all just remain calm,” Pat said.
“Shut up!” Demonian lifted his free hand and flung it. Pat cried out, and the next sound Mitch heard was his mate hitting the wall. The room went silent.
Mitch yowled as he shifted into his cheetah and wriggled his way out of Demonian’s grip. He hit the floor and then leapt, going for the bastard’s throat. Mitch’s front leg gave out, and he crashed to the floor before he could make his move.
A deep, hearty laugh filled the room as Demonian hunched down next to him. “Problem with your leg, kitty cat?”
Mitch lay there panting as he watched Demonian hold his hand out. A single black claw slid free.
“One more slice from me and you won’t survive the next round.” He pushed to his feet. “And by the way, your arm will never fully heal. That’s the price you’ll pay for what you did to me.”
Mitch shifted back into his human form and lay there, gasping as he asked, “So why did you kill that woman?”
He wanted to turn around and check on Pat, but he didn’t want to draw Demonian’s attention to the fox shifter. He wanted to keep the hellhound’s focus solely on him.
Demonian stood by the door, his hand on the metal handle. He had his back to Mitch but turned his head. There was so much hate in his eyes that Mitch should have died on the spot.
“I guess you’ll never know. Follow me or Syphon and you’ll regret ever laying eyes on me.”
Demonian walked out, leaving the door open as he disappeared.
Mitch ground his teeth as he flipped to a sitting position. He looked behind him to see Pat slowly getting up. His mate shook his head and worked his jaw from side to side, one arm around his ribs.
“Are you okay?” Mitch got up, holding his left arm close to his body as he limped toward his mate. “Tell me you’re not hurt.”
“I-I don’t know.” Pat winced. “I think I need to shift. A few of my ribs might be broken.”
Mitch spun and snarled when he heard a noise outside the door. Relief flooded him when Darren and Moose filled the doorway.
“Is everyone all right?” Darren asked as he looked around the room.
Moose sniffed the air. “I smell sulfur.”
“Demonian just left.” Mitch turned to Pat. “Go ahead and shift. I’ll protect you.”
With a quick nod, Pat shifted into his fox form. Mitch reached down and, with his right hand, scooped the small red fox up and held him close.
“Let’s get out of here,” Mitch said to Pat.
“What happened?” Darren asked.
“I have no fucking clue.” And that was the damn truth. Mitch wasn’t sure if the hellhounds were done chasing after him or if Demonian would be back. But right now, he needed to get his mate home.
But as he walked out of the house, Demonian’s words rang in Mitch’s ears. He would never fully heal, which meant his cheetah was affected, as well.
Regardless of Demonian’s warning, for hurting Pat, Mitch would track the bastard down and send him right back to Hell.
* * * *
Pat snuggled closer to the warmth next to him. He yawned and stretched and then slowly opened his eyes. It took a moment for him to realize where he was.
Mitch’s bedroom.
Pat looked over his shoulder and saw Mitch sound asleep, his left arm cradled to his chest.
Crap. He had been hoping everything that had happened had been some strange nightmare. But it hadn’t been. Demonian had kidnapped them, and…did what? Talk a lot. That was about it. Pat recalled Mitch shifting and lunging for the hellhound after Demonian had knocked the shit out of Pat.
He felt his side, but nothing hurt. He had healed, but Mitch never would. Pat might have been dazed, but he had heard what Demonian had said to Mitch.
As quietly as he could, Pat rolled over and studied his mate. In sleep, Mitch looked so peaceful. His face didn’t hold those hard lines that were present when the guy was awake.
Pat ran his fingers over the stubble that lined Mitch’s face. How had he gotten so lucky? It hadn’t been roses and sunshine being with Mitch, but he was Pat’s mate, and whatever problems they had, they would work through them.
Shit! Pat needed to call his mom and check on her. He also needed to find out if Zack was okay.
He started to toss the covers back, but Mitch snagged Pat with his good arm and pulled him toward him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I was just…” Pat stumbled on his words when he saw the glint of lust in Mitch’s pretty blue eyes. “I was just…I don’t remember.”
How could he when his brain turned to mush. All he could think about was being in Mitch’s arms.
“I think your skills are needed again,” Mitch said as he bounced his brows.
Pat chuckled. “And what skills are those?”
Mitch led Pat’s hand to his erection. “I got this hard problem that needs your attention.”
“Mmm.” Pat squeezed Mitch’s cock. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Mitch rolled to his back and tucked his right hand behind his head. He was already naked, which made things a lot easier. Pat grabbed the lube from the nightstand and rolled to his back, lining himself up with Mitch as best he could since the guy was much taller than him.
Pat stretched himself, keeping eye contact with his mate as his lips parted and tiny moans escaped. Mitch stared at him with a clenched jaw and hard lust in his eyes.
When Pat pulled his fingers free, he climbed onto Mitch’s waist. “Now let me see if I can help you out with your problem.”
Pat pressed his palm into Mitch’s muscled chest and used his other hand to guide his mate’s cock to his stretched hole. Pat leaned down for a kiss, teasing Mitch, prolonging the pleasure that was soon
to come.
“While I enjoy kissing you, I’d rather feel your tight ass gripping my cock.” A strange look entered Mitch’s blue eyes. Pat had no idea why Mitch was staring at him that way. Not until Mitch said, “I love you.”
Pat was blown away. He hadn’t expected to hear those words. Not yet. It was too soon, wasn’t it? They hadn’t been together that long for Mitch to declare his love for Pat.
“Don’t leave me hanging,” Mitch said. “I know you love me, too.”
It was the truth. Pat hadn’t realized it until Mitch had said the words. He loved his cheetah shifter. Pat loved everything about him, and if Mitch had died at Demonian’s hands, Pat would have been devastated.
“You’re right.” Pat gave him a quick kiss as he inched the head of Mitch’s cock into his ass. “I do love you.”
Pure joy entered Mitch’s eyes as Pat bottomed out. He didn’t care if Mitch’s arm was wounded or if he would never use it again. Pat had no problem being on top or helping Mitch in any way his mate needed it, just as long as they were together.
Pat moaned and closed his eyes as Mitch’s cock stretched him. The burn felt delicious as Mitch moaned and placed his hand on Pat’s hip.
“Ride me, baby.”
Pat started to move, pulling up and thrusting down. He rode Mitch until the buildup became too much. Mitch grabbed Pat’s cock and jacked him off as Pat rode his mate, crying out when he came. But he didn’t stop until Mitch joined him, growling out his release.
Pat dropped to the bed and curled into Mitch’s body. They’d worked up a sweat, but Pat didn’t mind. He didn’t care if they had been covered in it. Mitch’s arms felt right, safe, and Pat never wanted to leave them.
Chapter Eight
“I still don’t understand why he let Mitch and Pat live.” Darren looked toward the closed bedroom door as he took a seat on the beige recliner. “That doesn’t make any sense. If Demonian was hell-bent on revenge, why would he walk away without inflicting any damage?”
“You’re asking the wrong guy.” Moose sat on the sofa with a container of ice cream and a spoon. His large frame ate up two cushions as he watched some cartoon about a baby in a suit. Darren would never understand the giant’s obsession with the show. “I’m just glad they’re okay. Things could’ve gone a lot worse today.”