Page 9 of Leashed

He pocketed his wallet and phone and walked into the kitchen in search of his keys. “Riddley’s Roadhouse. Up the road from the, uh, library on Fourth,” he grunted, mumbling the last words.

“You’ll be the best-dressed guy there.”

Flipping Ryan off on his way by, he pulled his newer high-tops from the closet, tying them up before second-guessing his decision and loosening the laces again. “I left my check on the kitchen counter if you want to deposit it into the bills account.”

“Sounds good,” Ryan called out. “We’ve got about six months of expenses saved up in there already, so whenever I nail down a starting point for our next hunt, we’ll be ready.”

The eldest of them, Ryan was Hades’s right hand. The tracking and elimination of the final Pirithous was more than an assignment for him. It was an extension of the loyalty he provided the god who owned them.

Before computers, Alex had been the chief tracker, his ability to scent out the bloodline unmatched. But it was Ryan who had first embraced the new technology, who recognized the power of the internet before Bo or Alex realized how strong a tool it would become in the hunt.

It bothered Ryan immensely—his perceived failure to follow an old lead years ago, tying them to the curse Hades had spat in a fit of rage. Bound to the will of the god, it fell on Cerberus to wipe the Pirithous bloodline from the earth, a responsibility Ryan took to heart.

The wait was hardest for Bo. Online research and dead-end leads meant nothing to a hellhound born to attack. But once they were on the ground, their target in their sights, he came alive. He was a ruthless predator, as intuitive as Ryan was methodical. He took risks before the others saw the peril, moving on adrenaline and instinct to trap and capture his prize, his brothers flanking his attack.

But for now, he waited and tried to tamper the restlessness creeping through his veins.

He did a final inspection of his outfit, tossing his leather jacket over his shoulder. “Clotho’s been hanging out topside for a couple days. I’m meeting up with her tonight, actually.”

“Really? How’s she doing?” Ryan asked, his brows furrowing. “Tell me you aren’t sleeping with her.”

“What the hell? No. Fuck, man.”

Giving him an apologetic smirk, Ryan refocused on his work. “Good. Having her sister pissed at you is bad enough. No need to tip the destiny scales any more than you already have.” Leaning forward, he scrawled a note on a piece of paper. “She’s probably bored. Let her know she can crash in my room and I’ll take the couch if she wants to stay topside for a while.”

With a wave, he walked out, and when he got in the car, he cranked up his music to drown out the beast scratching at his thoughts. His foot hovered the brake until he spotted an open space alongside a familiar park, and the green neon of the Riddley’s sign pulsing farther down the road.

He hesitated, the soft yellow library sign in front of him calling to him.

Crossing the street, he scanned the large windows for long black hair as he adjusted the collar on Ryan’s button-down and walked inside.

His recollection of libraries from the days of his pre-internet Pirithous hunt was vastly different from the open space. He slowed his pace, eying the pods of sofas and chairs interspersed with computer stations and tables, towering shelves of books relegated to the exterior walls in long, precise rows. As he made his way to them, an involuntary smile crossed his face quickly before he schooled his expression, zeroing in on a small form huddled deep in the stacks. “Good book?”

The startle of surprise he caused Sage brought with it a strange pang of guilt when she scooted back, eyes wide until recognition set in.

Little mouse.

“Oh! Oh. Bo. Hi. I was just…sorry.” She began jotting down page numbers in a notebook, slamming each book shut as she scrambled to get organized. “You gave me a bit of a scare. How are you?”

He watched as she slid a few books into a separate pile and began filing the others. Kneeling down to help her, he checked the spines for their numbers and helped her slip them into place on the shelves. “Fine. You aren’t working?”

“I was,” she replied, passing him the last of the books and shoving her laptop into her backpack. “I hide back here after shifts so I can study without being interrupted.”

Offering his arm, he helped her to her feet, reading over the last title in his hand. “Art history?”

Sage tugged her coat on and swung her backpack over her shoulder with a self-conscious laugh. “Yeah. I’m trying to get a jump on the paper due at the end of the term.” She plucked the book from his hand, holding it tight to her as she led him to the checkout desk. “Are you taking anything out?”

“Just passing through on my way to Riddley’s. I had a few minutes to kill and figured this place was as good as any.” He tugged an elastic off his wrist and pulled his hair back into a ponytail, glancing toward the exit as a group of men passed by, hollering and jostling each other on the sidewalk. “If you’re cool with it, I could walk you to your car. Or not, if it creeps you out.”

She regarded him for a moment, her dark eyes narrowing briefly before she nodded. “I’d appreciate it. Thank you. It gets a little wild out there on Friday nights.”

He stood aside while Sage made small-talk with the woman at the counter, her demeanor shifting from skittish to animated as she leaned over the desk to look at something on the computer screen. Giving the woman a big smile, she slid the book into her bag and looked up at him. “Sorry. I’m ready to head out.”

“You apologize way too much,” he replied, holding the door for her. “So what’s up with the research? What are you taking?”

As he held out his hand to take her book bag, she frowned, eyes widening when she realized his intent. “Oh! Thank you.” She gave him a quick smile and passed it over. “I’m working toward a doctorate degree in museum studies and art history focused on the influence of mythology in the Baroque period.”

Following her lead, he crossed over to walk street-side. “What does that do for you?”

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