Chapter 6
Typhon
A witch. It all made sense now—not that I was going to admit any of that to Yeth.
“She told me to go away,” the hellhound whined. “She yelled at me.”
If there needed to be any more proof that magic was afoot, Yeth’s heartsick sorrow was it. The hellhound was devastated over the woman’s anger, and was moping that he’d never get to have liver treats or rib bones again. It was so ridiculous. He was a hellhound. He could go anywhere he wanted, do anything he wanted. Some human yelling at him shouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference in his habits, and if he wanted a snack, he was absolutely capable of walking right into someone’s house and taking the dinner off their table.
But the witch had clearly cast some sort of spell over him. If I didn’t manage to break it, Yeth might end up switching his loyalties and becoming no more than a witch’s lapdog. Poor guy.
Although Yeth wasn’t my priority, it was Faust. I wasn’t about to admit that I’d gotten sucked into the witch’s dream and been far more interested in sex than in locating my quarry and bringing him back to hell. No, boinking a sexy witch and rescuing Yeth from a horrible fate were not allowed to be at the top of my to-do list.
“Did you locate exactly where you-know-who is?” I began to pace, completely ignoring the soul before me, who was in hell for a multitude of sins including habitually double-dipping in the queso and never returning his library books.
“He’s somewhere in the house.” Yeth pouted, his thoughts still clearly with the witch. “I believe he was in the bedroom, but I’m not positive. He moves around, but he clearly is staying inside the house—no doubt because of those wards. He knows we can’t get through them.”
Normally I would have argued that point. A mere witch’s spell should have been no hinderance for a demon who was Master of the Hellhounds, but I’d already been seduced by this witch’s lurid desires, been rendered helpless against her magic. I wasn’t about to downplay the possible effectiveness of those wards. I always enjoyed solving problems with brute force, but it was clear this time I would require another technique.
I could show up in force with my pack of hellhounds and bluff—demand that she hand over Faust, or I’d lay siege to her home. That idea had great appeal, but there was a good chance the witch would call my bluff and I hated to look the fool, especially in front of my hellhounds.
We could wait from a distance until the witch let down her guard or until he got tired of hiding out in her house, then make our move. However, I wasn’t known for my patience and after searching for Faust for centuries, I didn’t want to risk him getting away once again.
I needed more information. I needed to send another hellhound with Yeth this time. Hopefully with two of them, they’d be able to resist her liver treats and remain focused on the job at hand. And if I needed to go visit her dreams a few more times…well, that was a sacrifice I’d be willing to make.
“Go back to her house and see if you can get inside,” I instructed Yeth. “Take a few of the other hellhounds with you, that way if you’re distracted by liver treats or rib bones, one of the other hounds can go retrieve Faust.”
Yeth sniffed, insulted. Still he obeyed, taking Snarl, Barghest, and Vartun with him. I got back to work torturing a pharmaceutical lobbyist and waited for them to return. I wasn’t exactly surprised when the three hounds came back to hell without Yeth, or Faust.
“Let me guess, more rib bones?” I asked.
Barghest shook his massive furry head. “Ham.”
“It was very tasty ham,” Vartun added. “Honey glazed. Lots of fat. I’ll definitely go back.”
For fuck’s sake. I hadn’t sent them out to review a new restaurant in town. They were supposed to bring me Faust.
“And Yeth is still there eating ham? Is it too much to hope that he’ll remember to get inside her house and get the soul I sent four of you to retrieve?”
The three hellhounds cringed. “She promised him the bone,” Snarl whined. “I wanted the bone. It’s not fair that Yeth gets the ham bone and we don’t.”
I set aside the nail-studded board I was using on the lobbyist and sighed. There was no way around it. I’d need to go myself, pry Yeth away from his ham bone, and get Faust.
I’d see her again. Was it late enough that she’d be in bed? Naked? Dreaming? Or maybe I could knock and she’d answer the door in some silky negligee, and we head into her bedroom. I imagined all the things we’d do, any thought of Faust completely vanishing from my mind.
“Master?”
I jerked from my reverie and realized I’d been standing there, staring into the distance while my hellhounds awaited instruction and a soul awaited torturing.
“You hounds continue working on this lobbyist,” I told them. “I’m going to go get Yeth and the soul. If I’m not back by the time you’re done, then chase the internet trolls around a bit. Make sure you bite them and not just chase them, okay?”
“Got it.” Barghest did a little salute with one of his paws, then picked up the board in his mouth. He wouldn’t do as good of a job as I would, but it wouldn’t be right to leave this soul unpunished while I ran off and got laid—I mean, retrieved an escaped soul.
The witch lived in a modest, one-story house that looked nearly identical to every other house on the block. A huge oak shaded most of her lawn from the moonlight, and a thick hedge defined both sides of her property. A truck sat in the driveway, cages and other equipment stacked neatly in the bed. I eyed the cages, but unlike in the dream, none of them jumped out and attempted to enclose me.
All the lights were off in the house. I reached out with my senses, trying to determine who and what was inside only to encounter a solid wall of very effective wards. They ended abruptly just before the garage, so that’s where I headed.
The garage door was open about eighteen inches at the bottom. I knew how loud those suckers were, and didn’t want to demean myself by crawling underneath, so I went around the side and found a door.
Unlocked. No wards. I opened it and stepped into the garage only to stop, staring in disgust at my missing hellhound. Yeth was sound asleep, curled up on a stack of towels and pillows as if he were a pampered Pomeranian. The ham bone cradled between his two front paws was absolutely cleaned of all meat. I could see the grooves from his teeth marks from clear across the room. Beside him was a half-drank bowl of water.
As I watched, Yeth snorted. His nose twitched in his sleep and a line of drool dropped from his jowls to his bedding. One of his paws shook in mimicry of running.
Idiot. I should have been angry with him, but I knew how powerful and tempting this witch could be. Besides, it probably was a good thing that he’d remained, just in case Faust attempted a midnight escape.
Leaving my hellhound to his dream, I exited the garage and went back around to the front of the house. Looking around to make sure I wasn’t being observed—because even demons don’t like having the police called on them—I probed the wards.
Even the best of witches make mistakes, and I was looking for a weak spot, or better yet, a hole that would allow me entry. I could forcibly break my way through, but it would hurt and leave me vulnerable to attack by a rudely awakened, very pissed off witch. The idea of the attack bothered me less than the thought of her being angry. I shook my head, annoyed that I was under this woman’s spell just as much as poor Yeth was.
The area along the front of the house was solid, as I’d expected it would be. The wards did seem to get a bit weaker as I went around the side of the house, but not so weak that I wanted to attempt entry. The best point to try was probably going to be where the garage joined the house, but I figured it would be best to check along the back, just in case.
I’d been inside the house—in a dream projection, but still I felt the representation I’d seen was fairly accurate to reality. That meant I knew the layout enough that I paused under the witch’s bedroom window.
She’d be in there,
asleep, that utilitarian bra that I was beginning to find very sexy draped across the end of the bed or on the dresser. I envisioned her naked, stirring in her sleep as she sensed my presence, reaching down between her legs to touch herself, moaning just a little at the thought of me.
Damn it. An erection was not comfortable in these pants. Besides, I needed to concentrate on getting inside and getting Faust, not a lithe, auburn-haired beauty, her gaze losing focus as an orgasm rolled through her.
I shook my head, cursing under my breath. Then I reached out and checked the ward right under her window.
An electric shock stung my fingers and I felt myself falling as my spirit surged forward. Suddenly I was in the front yard once more, looking up at the witch’s house that had inexplicably become six stories high.
What…? A dream. She’d sucked me into a dream clear through the wards. I eyed the window above me and wondered how I’d managed to completely lose control of the situation. I knew how. Thinking about sex did that.
Just then the witch leaned out the window. Glossy hair, pale face, naked shoulders, naked breasts. I stared transfixed.
“You came back!”
She sounded happy to see me. I tried to pull my attention from her breasts, only partially succeeding.
“Let me in,” I urged. “I can’t get past your wards.” Two could play this game. If she was going to enchant me with her magic, then I’d use that to gain entrance to her house. Then I’d grab Faust—right after we had sex, that is.
Her hair unrolled nearly forty feet down the side of the building and onto the ground. I stared at, then looked back up at her breasts, then back down at the hair.
“Climb up,” she called out.
I frowned, not understanding how her scalp could possibly hold my weight. Was this some sort of fairy tale reference? I think it might be.
“Won’t that hurt?” And did she intend on dismissing the wards on her walls? Because if she didn’t, then both of us would wind up in pain.
She sighed and started gathering her hair up. “I guess you’re right.”
Once her hair was back to its normal length, and my gaze was once more fixed on her breasts, the house morphed into a wagon filled with hay. The witch sat in the middle, fully clothed. Before I could protest her lack of nakedness, she jumped off the wagon, grabbed my face in her hands and kissed me.
It’s not my fault one thing led to another and soon we were both naked, sweaty and going at it like rabbits on some very soft grass. I lay there with her on top of me, caressing down the smooth skin of her back to that delectable round ass. My heart still pounded, my mind still swirled, and I’d never felt so alive. Staring up at the strangely indigo sky of her dream, I realized that I just couldn’t resist this witch. If I wanted to get Faust I’d have to try to get into her house during the day, when she wasn’t there, otherwise I was positive we’d end up in bed, just like we had the last two times I’d attempted to retrieve the soul.
Would she know it was me? If she came home to find her wards broken and Faust gone, would she ask me about it? Because I knew tonight wouldn’t be the last time I’d visit her. I was enchanted, wrapped around her witchy little finger. I was hers and if I wasn’t here physically, I’d be inserting myself into her dreams as often as I could. There was no way I could ever stay away from this witch.
And that was a problem. If she asked me about Faust, I’d have to tell her. And then she’d never want to see me again—which would destroy me. No, if I were to retrieve the soul, then I needed some way of breaking this spell she had over me.
I didn’t want to break this spell she had over me.
The witch stirred in my arms, nuzzling my neck and nipping at my ear. “So, my horned lover, shall we do this again?”
I caught my breath, feeling myself rise, feeling my heart kick into overdrive once more. No, I most definitely didn’t want to break the spell she had over me. I needed help. I needed advice. And there was only one demon I knew who had solid, recent experience with witches. I’d need to talk to Lucien.
But first, I was going to get it on one more time with this witch.
Okay, maybe two more times.
Chapter 7
Adrienne
I brewed an entire pot of coffee the next morning, knowing I was going to need it just to stay awake all day. The squirrels had been a nervous wreck all night, racing all over my room and making all sorts of noise. They even woke Drake up. He wanted to herd them out into the living room and shut the bedroom door, but I felt a bit sorry for them. Just as Rhoid had been afraid of the dog-thing, I knew the other squirrels were too. How many times in their lives had they been chased up a tree by dogs? And kicking them out of the bedroom would only make their anxiety worse. They seemed to get some comfort from my presence, especially Rhoid who kept trying to get under the covers or squeeze under my pillow. With all their noise I probably only got four hours of sleep, and I wasn’t the sort of girl who did well on less than her usual eight.
Um, and then there was the sex.
If Saturday’s night’s dream had been sexy, last night’s had been downright orgasmic—as in three or four times orgasmic. That horned, fiery-eyed demon had been back, and although I awoke very satisfied, I was still exhausted.
Wow, I really needed to get laid. Not necessarily a boyfriend, because I wasn’t sure I really had the time for an actual relationship. Friends with benefits would sure be nice though. Or just the benefits. If the last two nights were any indication, I was sex starved and desperate for a hot night of mattress aerobics. The dream stuff was great, but how long would that last? What if my unconscious sexual exploits stopped and I began dreaming about boring stuff like roofing repairs, spoiled lettuce in the fridge, my truck breaking down midweek twenty miles from home? I’d had two nights of getting it on. I didn’t want it to stop.
So a relationship—preferably a casual one—needed to move up higher on my to-do list. Although that might be a problem when I was sharing my bedroom with a vulture and four squirrels—especially when the squirrels had a habit of chattering all night long and darting around as they looked out the windows.
I think part of the reason they’d been so upset was that there had clearly been at least one canine in the garage last night. I’d peeked when I woke up, and hadn’t seen any of them in there, but the bone and the eggs were gone, the water bowls had been drunk from, and the beds and blankets were clearly slept on. Maybe with the food I’d left, they hadn’t felt the need to be hunting all night, and had finally gotten some rest. It made me smile to think that I’d done something nice for the poor hounds who’d probably not had anyone be nice to them their entire lives.
Leaving the garage door open a bit, I emptied my fridge of luncheon meat, refilled the water bowls, and straightened the blankets and beds. Then I made sure the ward-stone I’d moved to the doorway into the house was in place, and locked back up again. I felt bad using physical and magical means of securing the house from the hounds, lumping them in with all other intruders, but a girl couldn’t be too careful. I could protect myself, but I wouldn’t be here all day, and just as I wanted to set safeguards on myself and my belongings when I was sleeping, I felt I should continue to do the same when I was away. Trusting these dog-things with my garage was one thing. I didn’t want to come home tonight to find my house had been trashed, and my fridge was empty and tipped over onto the kitchen floor.
That done, I wolfed down some breakfast, poured the extra coffee in a thermos, then began to load up my truck for the trip up to Accident to assist with Clinton’s pack’s new residence. Hornets meant I might be relocating a nest, so I made sure to pack a long stick with a hook, a bunch of strong twine, and a small saw. The badger might be tricky, so I threw a few humane traps into the back. Badgers weren’t usually seen on the east coast, and I was curious why one was living here as well as why he’d taken up residence in one of the mountains that were inside the wards of Accident. They liked grassy meadows, not forested mountains. Th
ey liked to dig burrows, which wasn’t an easy task in the rocky mountain ground. Admittedly there would be lots of food for them there. Mice, voles, and birds were plentiful as well as insects.
I grabbed a few other things from the house, and got ready to head out. The squirrels dashed past me before I could close the door to the house. I watched in surprise as they jumped into my car and piled into the back seat.
“So did you all change your minds?” I asked them. “Would you rather live in the woods instead of my house?”
I’ll admit I was a bit hurt by the idea. They were a total pain in my rear. They’d eaten all my almonds, had kept me awake all night, had interrupted that amazing sex dream Saturday night. I should be relieved that they wanted to ditch me and go live in the woods, but instead I was insulted.
For once, Rhoid was the one who spoke up, telling me that they had every intention of living in my house. They were just afraid to stay there alone, so they were going to accompany me on my travels today.
Now I was wishing they were going to live in the woods.
“Guys, get back in the house,” I said. “The doors are locked. The windows are locked. There are magical wards in place. It’s safe there. It’s not safe to come with me today. I’ve got to relocate a badger. Badgers eat squirrels.”
They exchanged a volley of chatter, arguing the best option. Finally Rhoid twitched his tail, letting the others know that he was the one deciding this and that they were going with me. It seemed they had faith in my ability to protect them from hungry badgers as well as anything else that might come to attack them—including the hound.
I didn’t have time to argue. “Fine. Just stay out of my way and don’t disturb me when I’m driving.”
Squirrels evidently have a different idea about what constitutes disturbing someone, because they spent most of the drive asking me what I was going to get them for lunch, if they would have an opportunity to forage while I was doing my work, and if we could all watch movies and eat popcorn again tonight—but not that bird movie again. That was too scary.
Fiends and Familiars Page 5