But for this I needed to concentrate, and that was hard to do with souls screaming and wailing.
My residence was a bit stark and smelled of brimstone—which was understandable since it had probably been two months since I’d been there. I brushed the ashes off my bed and sprawled across the crimson sheets, resting my horned head on the pillow. Just a quick peek, and then I’d get back to that scammer. I’d just project myself into the mortal plane, using Yeth’s location for guidance. Once he had Faust’s soul, then I’d return to my work. But if the hellhound got distracted by liver treats or scary giant parakeets, then he was going to find himself the one drinking a quart of spoiled milk and running on the treadmill.
I closed my eyes and projected myself, racing through the ether, across the fields and to a completely unremarkable neighborhood. If I hadn’t seen Yeth skulking his way across the lawn, I would never have known this was the house. They all looked exactly the same. What a perfect place for Faust to hide. With a blink my spirit was inside the house, inside a bedroom that did not smell like brimstone and did not have ashes on the sheets. I took a second to orient myself, and noticed the truly giant bird on the footboard of the bed.
Huh. I guess Yeth wasn’t exaggerating after all. That really was one big-ass bird. I waited a second to see if the vulture could see me, but he remained asleep. Reassured, I opened up my senses and took it all in. There was a lingering scent of buttery popcorn coming from outside the bedroom, and a stronger aroma of vanilla and ginger inside. The bedroom was a bit of a mess with clothes tossed in piles, and wrinkled clean laundry in a basket. A dresser sat off to the side with cosmetics, a few books, and a bra on top. I couldn’t help but pick up the bra, because hey, I might be a demon, but I’m a guy. And I’m nosy.
It wasn’t a very exciting bra. Nothing lacy or red or silky. It looked like the kind of underwear human females wore when jogging or going to their gyms. I heard something stir, and quickly put the bra back.
The noise came from the bed. I glided over, hoping to find Faust under the covers with the woman who owned the utilitarian bra, but there was only one occupant in the bed—the woman. I caught my breath, thinking I had been very, very wrong in my assumptions about this woman from her choice in bras. But before I could do more than admire her silky auburn hair, I was sucked unwillingly into a dreamland.
By Satan’s leathery wings I hated this. Human dreams blew. You never knew what you were going to end up doing. I could wind up salsa dancing with an elephant, or I could find myself discussing embroidery with a blue-haired woman who smelled like medical ointment. But this time I found myself chasing the woman through the woods.
Oh, hell yeah. Now this was a good dream. She was wearing a gauzy white thing that did nothing to hide the sweet curves of her ass as she ran. Her auburn hair swung around her shoulders, her bare feet pounding through the leaves on the dirt trail. Just as I was closing in on the woman, the dream changed. Suddenly we were beside a truck. The woman faced me, and I’ll admit I was suddenly struck speechless.
I’d thought she was beautiful as she slept, but here, awake in a dream, she was gorgeous. She was fucking jaw-dropping sexy in that gauzy thing that was suddenly so short it barely covered her crotch. Not that it mattered. I could see her long muscular legs, her round breasts, the curve of her hips and the slim line of her waist as if she were standing naked right before me. Her mouth opened, and I found myself transfixed by her lips.
Then she screamed and began throwing cages at me—cages that opened and encased me, trapping me in a mesh of wires. I’ll admit, it only turned me on further. For her, a human, to face down a horned, glowing-eyed demon and try to cage him? That took some serious balls. Or the female equivalent.
I melted the metal of the cages, only to have her continue to throw them at me. Just as I was beginning to think I was going to spend the whole night breaking out of cages, this sexy woman moved away, the dream changed again and I found myself once more chasing her down.
But this time it was different. It was almost as if she wanted me to catch her. The white gauze vanished and she was naked, her pace about half of what it had been before. I easily caught up to her, inhaling the smell of the vanilla and ginger lotion on her skin as I wrapped my arms around her and took her to the ground.
Only we weren’t on the ground. We were in her bed, and her warm brown eyes stared into mine, filled with desire. It was as if she wove a spell around me, as if I were trapped far more securely than those wire cages could ever have done. By all that was unholy, I wanted this woman. I rubbed against her, everything but my need for her fading from my mind. Then just as I was about to seal the deal, an infernal sound filled my ears. Some horrible kuk-kuk noise. The woman vanished from under me and I fell—fell through the ether and back to the ashy sheets of my own room. The smell of popcorn and lotion was replaced by that of brimstone. I sat bolt upright in my bed, now knowing why Yeth had been so afraid of that bird, why he’d been seduced by the liver treats and rib bones.
Seduced. I’d been seduced as well, and not by scraps of food. Me, Master of the Hellhounds.
I’d been seduced by a witch.
Chapter 4
Adrienne
“Adrienne, does the vulture really need to be inside?” Cassie asked, glaring at Drake. “We made Hadur’s raccoon stay outside.”
“And I think that’s a horrible way to treat a member of the family,” I countered. “Diebin is just as important as Lucien.”
The demon bristled at my comparing his value to that of a raccoon and a vulture, but I ignored him. He might be the son of Satan, but I knew he enjoyed our family squabbles. Did he have any brothers or sisters, I wondered? Maybe we could have some giant multi-family holiday dinner. We’d need to rent a conference hall because I didn’t think there was room enough in our family home for even the Perkins’ extended family.
“Drake isn’t going to eat the meatloaf or get up on the table,” I told Cassie. “He brought his own meal.”
The vulture’s meal was outside. Even though I insisted Drake be allowed to socialize with the rest of us—because vultures were extremely social creatures—I did agree that the groundhog roadkill he’d picked up off the side of the highway needed to be as far away from our own dinner as possible.
I looked around at what had always seemed like an enormous dining room and winced. Honestly if our family got any bigger, some of us might need to eat outside just from a lack of space. We were seven sisters, and our cousin Aaron, all over for Sunday dinners, but five of my sisters had shacked up which meant instead of eight, we needed to set a table for thirteen. Our table didn’t hold thirteen, so Cassie had added a folding card table to the end along with those metal folding chairs typically used at funerals. We all drew straws each week because no one wanted to sit at what amounted to the kids’ table.
Lucky for him as well as us, Aaron was off on a weeklong cruise he’d been suckered into by some time-share spiel the travel agent had given him. That meant we could all squash along the dining table, cheek-to-jowl, rather than four of us drawing the short straw for the kids’ table.
I’m not sure which was worse, being teased for ending up eating on the card table, or packed so tightly against my family that I could barely raise a fork to my mouth. I looked around, thinking that if Cassie knocked out a wall, or stuck an addition onto the back of the house, we might be able to get one of those enormous U-shaped conference tables and use it for dining instead.
This Sunday I was here early, feeling the need for family time—for human interaction. Cassie hadn’t even started the meatloaf yet. The two of us were peeling potatoes while Lucien sat at the kitchen table and snapped fresh green beans. It was kinda funny that the son of Satan was prepping veggies for dinner, but I kept my amusement over that to myself.
“So how’s your week been?” Cassie asked as she waved a potato peeler.
“Not bad. There’s lots of bat removal now that the babies are out of their nests and I can legall
y evict them. I include two bat boxes with every service, and even hang them up for people. It’s important to educate folks on the value of having bats in their neighborhood.”
Cassie didn’t look particularly interested in hearing about that, so I didn’t elaborate further.
“I had a drunk and disorderly case, and it looks like my assault charge is going to go to trial after all,” Cassie told me.
I made a sympathetic noise. “Yesterday I moved four squirrels out of a woman’s attic. I couldn’t get them to relocate to the woods, so now they’re in my attic.” In my living room, actually, but I was reluctant to admit to that.
Cassie wrinkled her nose. “Can’t you just tell them to get out?”
My sisters knew my powers. I could communicate with animals, and I could persuade them to do my bidding—usually. Every now and then, like with the squirrels, an animal blocked my attempts at communication and refused to cooperate. I had one other skill, but I refused to break out the nuclear bomb unless a life was on the line. A witch has to have ethical limits after all.
“They’re not so bad. I named them Oak, Maple, Pine, and the leader is Hemorrhoid.”
Lucien snorted. “You named a squirrel Hemorrhoid?”
“Rhoid for short,” I told him. “He’s the leader of the crew, and a bit of an asshole. He’s really wary of strangers. I hope I can eventually win him over.”
“Hard to win someone over when you’ve named them Hemorrhoid,” Cassie commented.
She had a point. “I’m hoping once the weather warms up in the spring, they’ll leave my house and head for the woods, but I’m pretty sure they’re here for the foreseeable future.”
“So they’re hanging out in your attic?” Lucien asked. “That’s not too bad other than the noise of them running around.”
Crap. Here’s where I admitted I was a total softie. “Um, they’re living downstairs. They’re actually sleeping in my bedroom,” I confessed. My sisters already knew I was weird. One more thing wouldn’t send me over the weirdness cliff in their eyes mainly because they believed I’d already gone over that edge.
“That’s gonna totally kill your sex life,” Cassie said.
As if I had a sex life.
“I’m pretty sure Drake is enough of a mood killer on his own.” I laughed. “The squirrels did ruin a really awesome sexy dream last night though. Actually, it wasn’t really their fault. That huge dog-thing was back in my front yard and they were all freaking out about it.”
“I totally want to hear about this sexy dream,” Sylvie said as she walked into the kitchen.
“Me too.” Eshu, her main squeeze, was right behind her. He had a case of beer and handed us each one before he began stacking them in the fridge.
“Please tell me you’re not going to take in the stray dog as well,” Cassie pleaded as she popped open her beer. “You’ve already got a vulture and a bunch of squirrels. Soon you’ll be sleeping on the couch and all the animals will be in the bed.”
“Ooo, Adrienne could use some animal action in bed,” Sylvie teased.
“Eww.” I made a face at her. “I’m not doing it with any animals. Doggy-style, yes. Doggies, no.”
“I totally picked the wrong time to come in on this conversation.” Glenda made her way through the door carrying a pie.
It smelled heavenly and I smiled, feeling completely at home here in the place I’d grown up, surrounded by my sisters and the demons who were as good as my in-laws at this point. Everyone else arrived and we all were busy preparing the meal and catching up. I didn’t say anything further about the squirrels, my dream, or the dog-thing until all the food was in the oven or on the stove and we were relaxing in the living room with beer and chips.
“So tell me about this sexy dream,” Sylvie said.
“No, tell us about these squirrels,” Ophelia chimed in.
“I want to hear more about the dog.” Babylon sighed. “I’ve always loved dogs.”
“You have always loved dogs,” Glenda said. “Remember the Schafers’ black Lab?”
I reached out and touched Babylon’s arm. She’d adored that dog and animated him after his death, but as nice as zombie Rocky was, he wasn’t the same as living Rocky. After he’d started to smell, Cassie had convinced our five-year-old youngest sister to let zombie Rocky rest, and gotten Babylon a hamster instead.
“He’s huge—like Mastiff huge,” I started. “Black fur. It’s not fluffy or smooth, but kind of wiry. He likes freeze-dried liver and rib bones—”
“Doesn’t every dog?” Hadur laughed.
“True. But this dog had weird shoulders and haunches, and huge white teeth, and glowing red eyes. And a forked tongue.”
Lucien frowned. “Sounds like a hellhound, although I don’t know why a hellhound would be eating rib bones off your front lawn.”
“Those ribs were amazing,” I countered. “And there was still a little bit of meat on them too. Any dog, or not-dog, would totally love them.”
“What if it is a hellhound?” Nash asked. “They’re dangerous and vicious.”
“I don’t think Adrienne needs to fear anything from hell,” Lucien drawled. “And the days of rogue hellhounds are long in the past. The last two thousand years, they’ve been under rule of a skilled demon.”
Cassie shrugged. “So one slipped his leash and found his way to Adrienne’s? He doesn’t sound as if he’s a danger to her, but maybe you should let this demon know one of his hounds is roaming around and scavenging for food scraps.”
“Maybe Adrienne can catch him next time and keep him in her garage for the demon to retrieve,” Babylon said.
“If there is a next time.” I thought of the way I’d yelled at the dog-thing and felt ashamed. Poor guy. I hoped he did come back so I could give him more liver treats and apologize for my behavior.
“Enough about the hound, let’s hear about the sexy dream,” Sylvie chimed in.
“After dinner,” Glenda told her. “Xavier and I made some shrimp puffs and we need everyone to taste test them.”
My stomach growled. Glenda was an amazing cook, and Xavier wasn’t bad in the kitchen either. The pair of them always had these running contests to see who could make a certain dish better, and I loved it when I got to taste test. Both shrimp puff recipes would, no doubt, be amazing, and there would be all sorts of laughing and joking over whose was best.
It was so cute how Glenda and Xavier had this friendly rivalry with each other in the kitchen. And it was especially cute to see them together, hand-in-hand and slipping each other mushy glances. I looked around the room at my sisters and their boyfriends, feeling a pang of jealousy. Being alone never bothered me before, but suddenly with nearly all of my sisters in serious relationships, I felt particularly lonely. It was just me and Babylon that were single out of the family. Babylon didn’t seem to be bothered one way or another by her single status, but as Xavier brought in the trays of shrimp puffs and Glenda playfully bumped his hip with hers, I found myself wanting what my sisters had.
The horned dude from my dream appeared in my mind and I almost laughed. Not that. That was sex, and I wanted more than sex. Besides, a sexy horned monster in a dream was a whole lot different than what I was envisioning as a life partner.
We tested the shrimp puffs, deciding that they were both equally good, then we all sat and caught up on each other’s lives until the oven buzzer sounded. Everyone sprang into action, putting the final items on the table and helping bring in the food. Once they were all seated and eating, the conversation turned to the situation in Accident.
“How are things going with the werewolf move?” Glenda asked Cassie.
Cassie grimaced. “One step forward, two back. Clinton’s group was supposed to be moved out by now, but there’s been one problem after another.”
“The word in town is the mountain’s cursed,” Nash chimed in.
Cassie snorted. “There is no curse. I’ve been up there and the only problem is that we’re trying to move a co
mmunity of werewolves onto a bunch of land that hasn’t been occupied in ages.”
Bronwyn shook her head. “Even using one of my magic dousing wands to find the best spot to place a well, it took nearly a week from drilling to putting in the pump, to running the main line. And don’t get me started on trying to put in a septic field with all those rocks up there.”
“The framework for a dozen structures is up, but that’s it,” Hadur said.
The werewolves were used to living with a bare minimum of modern services. They could move in without electric and with barely cleared roads, but clean water and waste management were deal breakers. Cold weather would be here soon. If Clinton’s new territory didn’t have more than roughed-in shelters, they’d need to stay where they were until spring. And that would mean more friction between two packs that already had an uneasy peace between them.
“What can we do to help?” Ophelia asked. “I’m no good at construction, but maybe we can fundraise and hire a crew from outside Accident to help get these buildings ready faster?”
Cassie nodded. “It’s a good idea, but I’m not sure how much more we can ask the community to contribute. They helped rebuild Dallas’s compound and chipped in money for that. They’re bound to be feeling kind of tapped out at this point.”
“Then let’s make it a party,” Babylon suggested. “Beer, food, magical fireworks. There have got to be some tasks that can be easily done under supervision, like putting insulation in the walls and nailing up drywall, or running the electrical cord through the walls, or stuff like that.”
“We can give it a shot, but I’m not sure how many people will come,” Cassie said. “Again, we’ve been pushing the townsfolk a lot this year to help out on stuff like this.”
“Then tell Dallas and Clinton to get all their people over there and get it done,” I chimed in. “There’s no reason why a few hundred werewolves can’t get a dozen structures up and ready in a few weeks. They’re stalling.”
Fiends and Familiars Page 3