Page 72 of Dead Heat

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I saton the red leather sofa, still basking in the afterglow of Gun and Cam’s group hug. I felt … content.

Ray materialized in front of me. “You need more hugs.”

I glanced up at the ghost. “Excuse me?”

“There’s a chapter in the psychology book I’m reading that says you need a minimum of four hugs a day just to survive.”

“Four per day? That sounds like a lot.”

“That’s because you have a hug deficiency.”

“Pops wasn’t much of a hugger.” And after he died, there was no one left to hug … until Fairhaven.

My phone trilled. I snatched it off the sofa the moment I registered Chief Garcia’s name. “Everything okay, chief?”

“Just got a call from Mrs. Baker. Sounds like the Hounds of Hades are back.”

My heart palpitated. That was faster than I anticipated. “I’ll head over there now. What’s the address?”

“62 Fuller Street. I’ll meet you.”

“No, absolutely not,” I said quickly. “No humans.” I hung up the phone before she could argue and hurried to the door.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” Nana Pratt asked.

“To stop a problem before it starts.” Although I didn’t understand why the Erinyes wouldn’t come straight to the Castle now that they knew where I lived. A question I’d hopefully get answered in a few minutes.

“No weapons?” she asked.

“No time.”

I bolted from the house and started the truck, which wasn’t the smooth experience I hoped for. Gary was growing increasingly temperamental. The winter months seemed to have taken a toll on the aging pickup.

After an exercise in extreme patience, I drove to Fuller Street, searching the sky along the way for any sign of flying hellhounds. Nothing seemed amiss. No squawking birds. No dark clouds.

I parked in front of number 62 and exited the truck. An elderly woman stood behind the exterior glass door of the simple white house. I waved at her and indicated to close the interior door. I didn’t need an audience and Mrs. Baker didn’t need to endanger herself for the sake of a show. Just because she had the Sight didn’t mean she’d understand what she was seeing. Most of the local humans filled in their gaps of knowledge with their own explanations.

Mrs. Baker opened the exterior door. “Around back,” she shouted and let the door swing shut. Then she slammed the interior door, and I heard the lock click. I felt mildly better.

I inched along the side of the house, still baffled by their choice of location. The Erinyes were too sharp to have forgotten where they’d met me only days ago. Maybe this was some sort of trap.

The wind rustled, sweeping dirt and debris past the shed. A monstrous shadow formed on the side of the wall. Three giant heads—but only one massive body.

Not the Erinyes after all.

The sight of the three-headed shadow triggered an emotion in me I couldn’t identify. It wasn’t the rush of fear I expected.

“Cerberus?” I whispered. “Is that you?”

The creature crept out from behind the shed. I should’ve been terrified to see three giant heads with glowing eyes, fangs like obsidian knives, and acidic tongues aimed straight at me. Here was the physical manifestation of my longtime nightmares, except…

I didn’t simply recognize him—I knew him. My father’s vicious beast, the same one that had stationed himself beside my cradle each and every night when I was a child. The one that had accompanied me on all my travels throughout the underworld. My protector.

My best friend.

Tears streaked my cheeks. How was this the same creature that had tormented me in my nightmares for years? How had I failed to recognize him?

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