Page 1 of Muzzled

Chapter One

Ryan lifted thechair an inch off the cement of the makeshift restaurant patio, ensuring the cheap plastic legs wouldn’t catch and buckle as he pushed it in for Persephone. Waiting until Hades was seated, he pulled up his own chair and tested the stability of the table, shifting it slightly to the left to eliminate the imbalance the parking lot pavement created.

“This is unique,” Seph murmured, her bright-blue eyes looking over a group of young men jostling down the sidewalk, their leather jackets covered in metal spikes and chains. “How does one make one’s hair stand straight up like that?”

“Glue,” he replied and thanked the server as she set menus on the table. “I’ve been following the Pirithous scent across three provinces, and I’m certain the guy I’m looking for is following the festival circuit.” He sat back and scanned the street. “It could be difficult to locate him in the crowds since an unleashed dog will attract attention, but at least I’ve narrowed the hunting zone.”

It had taken months of research, followed by months of tracking, to pinpoint his target, but he was glad he had good news for his master.

Spat in a fit of rage by Hades upon the kidnapping—failed kidnapping—of his lovely wife, the centuries-long hunt to fulfill the curse on the Pirithous bloodline had consumed the lives of the three brothers who united to form Cerberus. Every male carrying the bloodline was sentenced to be hunted and dragged into the underworld by the three-headed hellhound. Ryan was finally on the tail of the final one, and he needed to act fast.

One sighting of a hellhound would trigger the curse in the bloodline, turning the man’s thoughts and desires darker. With a second sighting came action, the craving for blood and death settling in and taking hold. The third brought with it physical changes and bloodlust, a morphing of the body into a clawed predator whose sole purpose was death. Those with stronger wills fought the instinct to kill longer, but once the bloodline had a taste to kill, Cerberus was all that stood between the Pirithous and a rapidly growing pile of bodies.

Hades reached behind him and gave him a quick squeeze on the shoulder. “You’ve done well, boy.” He opened a menu and nodded slowly. “Greek selections. Good choice of kitchen, Orion. Even if the ambience leaves much to be desired.”

The small outdoor patio was little more than a parking lot enclosed by portable barriers and packed with plastic outdoor furniture adorned with large umbrellas advertising local breweries. Traffic sped along the road, horns blaring, while small crowds formed and began to zigzag between the cars, the performers already gearing up hours before the festival was set to begin. Guitars and violins fought against speakers blaring Top 40 songs, the lounges and bars lining the street beginning to fill with patrons eager to get an early start to their weekend.

It was an ideal location to observe the busking festival that would flood the narrow street for the next three evenings, kicking off the summer event season in the small prairie city of Saskatoon and bringing his target into his scope.

The server returned to their table, and he snapped his attention back to the menu. “Three souvlakis, two gyros, a Greek salad with extra olives, and three sides of tzatziki.” When Seph arched a brow, he smiled. “And three orders of baklava, please.”

“Add three ouzos to that,” Hades interjected, reaching across the table to take his wife’s hand. “I refuse to toast with water.”

Seph smiled over at him. “And toast we shall, Orion.” Her elegant hand plucked his phone from the table and began flipping through his photos, cooing over the older shots of him and his brothers. “At least I have one boy who’s still loyal to me.”

“You know you still have their loyalty,” he stated in defense of his absentee brethren. “You just don’t have their hearts. And you never needed those anyway.”

She brought the phone to her chest with an exaggerated sigh. “My babies have been taken in by a succubus and a siren. Allow me my moment to wallow.”

Hades chuckled, accepting the ouzo from the server with a thanks. “My dear, you only wallow when you have an audience eager to appease your thirst for adoration. Now let’s toast.” He lifted his small plastic cup and waited for them to do the same. “To Orion. May his final hunt be swift, and his final kill be glorious.”

*

Ryan pulled afew bills from his wallet and tossed them into the open saxophone case, eliminating the young musician from his list. All his research pointed to a thirty-two-year-old, and the fresh-faced saxophonist was definitely nowhere near his thirties.

He re-entered the throngs of people swarming the street, staying tight to the outer edges as he carefully unfolded his map to jot a quick note. Six of the eleven performers he’d encountered so far remained on his radar. He’d revisit their busking locations in hound form later to track their scents and, if luck was on his side, to make a positive identification of his target.

Joining a small crowd gathering around an artist crouched on the sidewalk, he inched closer to get a good look at the man.

“He’s good,” a woman whispered to him. “Not quite as good as Maestro, but his prices are fair if you’re into the whole space-and-planet thing.”

Adding a mental note to revisit the site of the potential Pirithous later, he watched the man work silently over a piece of paper, his hands angling scraps of cardboard and cans of spray paint with a practiced flair. When the piece was complete, he held it up for the crowd, taking the highest bid within seconds.

Arching a brow at the woman beside him, he leaned down. “That’s impressive.”

She nodded, opening her large messenger bag and pulling out a thick plastic bag. “It’s good, but this? This is impressive. I just bought this down at the five corners. Amazing, isn’t it?”

He glanced down, his breath catching as he recognized the image on the paper. “Who did that?”

“Maestro Mike,” she said, holding the charcoal artwork gingerly for his appraisal. “This page was completely blank when I walked by and within thirty minutes, I had this.”

*

“This” was aperfect likeness of Hades and Seph in their reception room, the detail precise down to the arcs of the throne arms. The contours of his mistress’s favorite dress, the placement of Hades’s hand on hers, even the slight tilt of Seph’s chin was captured flawlessly.

Impossibly flawless.

He swallowed hard and glanced toward the end of the street, seeing nothing but hundreds and hundreds of people. “And this Maestro is that way?”

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