Page 36 of Muzzled

Ryan folded histhin motel towel in half and hung it back on the bar, giving himself a quick once-over before he joined Micah. She was noticeably sniffing the air as he walked by her to take a seat at the table. “What on earth are you doing?”

“I was wondering if you’d smell like wet dog after your shower,” she replied, flipping through the TV channels with interest. “You don’t, in case you were worried.”

“Never thought about it but thank-you for conducting the experiment.” He flipped his laptop open and nudged the chain collar and leash aside. “What do you like on your pizza?”

Glancing over at him, she shrugged. “Whatever.” She turned her attention back to the television. “It doesn’t even phase you, does it? Barking at cheap-ass women one minute, ordering pizza online the next. Just like that.”

Entering his credit card information into the online checkout, he shook his head. “A few thousand years of practice, and it loses the ‘wow’ factor.”

“Thousand?”

“A few thousand,” he corrected, slouching into his chair and giving her a tight smile. “You’re actually handling this rather well. From what my brothers have said, that’s not always the case.”

The volume on the TV turned down a fraction. “There’s been a ghost following me around for thirty years. I’ve had some time to process that, so the jump to werewolf isn’t that big.”

“Hellhound.” She looked over at him and he shrugged. “Sorry. The werewolf bloodline is a curse similar to that of the Pirithous line I’m hunting. Except it was woven by Zeus, not Hades. Our lineage isn’t damned.”

She muted the TV and hugged a pillow to her chest. “Those pictures you showed me of your pretty brothers. How are they twins, and you aren’t a part of that if you’re Cerberus? How are you not triplets? Not that you aren’t hot in that intense, alpha-growl way.”

He rolled his eyes at her addendum and checked the time. “Before I was born, I was promised to Hades. But a single pup wasn’t quite the intimidating beast he needed to guard the banks of the Styx. So my mother bore twins who shared enough of my bloodline to form Cerberus when called upon.”

He dropped his elbows to his knees and examined the worn threads of the carpet.

Hades had been fine with a single-headed hound, Ryan’s size and appearance enough of a deterrent for most when he prowled the river and bared his newly cut teeth.

Seph had been less than thrilled with her new pet.

He’s not enough, Hades.

“That’s very creepy and cool,” Micah said, yanking him back into the moment. “But it must have sucked for you, going from a solo act to a trio.”

Thinking back to the twins’ early years, he grinned. “Alex wasn’t too bad. A little willful, a bit lazy, and he had real issues with staying on Hades’s good side. But Bo? That pup was a nightmare.”

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “That pretty boy? I don’t believe you. He’s too angelic-looking.”

“Angelic?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “When he was really young, it hit a point where Hades had to tether him to me just to make sure he didn’t go topside. Or slip out to Olympus. Or sneak into the abyss and scare the shades again. When he hit what you’d refer to as the teen years, though? He single-handedly coined the term ‘horndog.’ Every nymph, every goddess, every deity…didn’t matter who they were married to, who they were promised to. He went after every one of them, and being who he is and what he looks like, he didn’t hear ‘no’ a whole hell of a lot.”

“I can see why.” He looked up at her and she gave him a bright smile. “Again, pretty boys aren’t my type.” When he rolled his eyes at her, she smirked. “I like my guys tall, blond, and organized.”

He stood and walked to the window, checking the lot for signs of the shade or the delivery driver. “Pizza’s here,” he announced, grateful for the distraction from the personal details he was sharing way too easily.

*

Micah looked pastRyan’s shoulder into the darkness. “And you’ll be close enough to get here fast if it shows, right?”

“No more than three blocks away,” he said, handing her the keys to his car and shifting the messenger bag slung over his shoulder. “Keep your phone charged and on you at all times, and take a lot of pictures. I’m not sure shades show up in photos, but we’ll find out.” He hesitated at her door for a moment before backing away. “Have a good night, Micah.”

She watched him prowl the narrow sidewalk to the street, waiting until he hit the end of the block before she closed and locked the door and went downstairs to her suite.

The place was empty, Logan’s texts indicating he wouldn’t be home anytime soon. Taking her time, she set about returning the room to a state of pre-show organization, where canvases and art supplies weren’t strewn around the floors and clothes weren’t tossed into piles in the corner. She opened every tube and jar, noting which colors needed reordering before she carefully placed them into their cases. Every brush was thumbed through for breakage, each canvas examined for flaws.

The repetitive routine was soothing, known.

The sun had been down for two hours when her phone buzzed.

Everything okay?

With a quick ‘yes,’ she snapped a picture of her spotless suite and sent it, certain Ryan would appreciate the order and meticulous organization Logan would likely destroy within minutes of his arrival.

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