Page 88 of Leashed

She sat and waited them out, unsure if she should intervene, hang up, or listen in. Her decision was made when Charlotte returned the phone with a rushed apology. “I’m so sorry. I’ll answer whatever I can. Shoot.”

Blinking, she slumped back in the sofa.

What did she want to ask this woman she didn’t know?

“So,” she began slowly. “Alex…he’s also a—”

“Hellhound, yes,” Charlotte replied. “Ryan too. Human is their base form topside, but in the underworld, they’re drawn to the hound.”

Of course.

“And Hades and Persephone?”

“Hades is way too freakin’ tall and Seph is like the ultimate smother-in-law,” the woman said. “Her twins are her pretty little prized ponies, so…” There was a pause as a voice spoke low in the background and the speaker became muffled. “Yes, you are and you know it…” Charlotte was once again crystal clear. “So she’s incredibly overbearing, but sweet enough.”

Dozens of questions flashed through her head, disintegrating on her tongue.

She didn’t want to ask Charlotte. She wanted to ask Bo.

She rose back to her feet and looked outside. “Is he there now? In the underworld? I mean, I texted him on New Year’s and he didn’t answer, so I thought maybe?”

As Charlotte and Alex whispered, she strained to pick up the conversation, frowning when she wasn’t able to catch a word.

“He’s there,” Charlotte finally answered, the speaker rustling while she spoke to Alex. “Just say what?” There was a pause. “Bo’s taking care of some unfinished business.”

“Off battling monsters?” she joked, knowing “unfinished business” was probably code for Dionysus and a lot of wine.

Charlotte went quiet for a moment. “That’s a question Bo should answer.”

*

Bo remained hunchedover, his hands on his knees as he took a few precious seconds to refocus on blocking Sage’s voice from his ears and her face from his mind.

The Eidolon hadn’t let up for hours, barraging him with a constant stream of pleas and teasings punctuated with a familiar laughter chilling him to the bone. The mimic was monitoring his every reaction, cataloguing every stumble or hesitation as it tested him. When he’d become immune to the crying two miles back, the copycat had switched to seduction in an attempt to elicit an image it could use against him.

He had to be closing in on the end of the cavern.

Fighting the overpowering urge to sit, to rest his exhausted body and mind, he trudged on. The effort it took to keep Sage from his thoughts while he was assaulted with her voice was draining him, blurring time and distance even more and leaving him disoriented. He’d inadvertently allowed a few flashes of her into his thoughts, innocuous images he knew would be turned on him once he left the blackness of the cave and encountered the Eidolon face-to-face.

The ground beneath his feet had become rockier, the smooth incline he’d been climbing now wrought with divots and peaks tripping him up and throwing his concentration. His hands were bloodied from the jagged walls, his forearms raw from scratching over the stones as he fought to regain his footing with every faltered step.

“Bo,” the voice sang, a soft fluttering against his ear sending ice through him.

Fingers trailed down his arm, lacing through his and gently pulling him forward.

He tugged his hand back, forcing his feet to continue to move as the delicate touch moved across his chest and crept up his neck to his jaw.

“I’m waiting, Bo.”

His skin crawled while the Eidolon’s fingers wound through his hair and skimmed the nape of his neck. Soft lips that felt frighteningly familiar grazed his and he squeezed his eyes shut in the blackness, clenching his teeth against the assault until it came to a sudden stop and the ground beneath his feet gave way, sending him skidding down a mudslide on his ass. He grappled for the walls, desperate to get a grip as he sank into a slimy pit.

The jolt snapped his fatigued mind awake and he flung his arms out in the dark in search of a way out. Inching forward until he made contact with the perimeter, he ran his hands across the stone and cursed when his fingers found his only way out.

“You’re a bitch, Lach,” he rasped, hefting himself into the small cavity. “Crawl on my belly? Yeah, screw you and your kinks,” he snarled, his fogged mind hating on the goddess with rapt precision as he used his elbows to drag himself through the narrow tunnel.

*

Nixon’s key jiggledin the door for a moment before he swung it open, frowning when he saw Sage sitting on the sofa, remote in hand and TV off.

“I told you to go to bed,” he stated, placing his shoes in the closet with the others. “You need to rest up.”

She snapped out of her daze and gave him a smile. “I’m good,” she said, shoving her thoughts to the back of her mind. “How was the meetup?”

Heading straight to the kitchen, he opened the fridge and stood back. “Good. We have a cake tasting in Spokane on Tuesday.”

Joining him, she filled her water glass and hopped onto the counter, sliding off when his lips drew into a thin line. “We’ll be back by Friday, though, right? I have tickets to that exhibit, and we’re supposed to drive down to Boise for the weekend showing.” When he gave her an exasperated look, she set her cup down. “We discussed this. I took a ton of extra shifts to cover the costs.”

“Yes, we discussed it,” he retorted, turning his attention back to the fridge. “Before we agreed a wedding was a prudent move.” Selecting a beer, he popped the tab and put his hand under her chin. “We need to adjust our priorities to make this work, right? We can catch another exhibit.”

Her mouth opened to argue back, snapping shut when the tightening across her chest flared up. With a nod, she followed him into the living room and handed him the remote.

---