Page 13 of Hellhounds and Homicides

“Follow us.” They said. Rowen and Dumas fell into step behind them.

Dumas looked over at Rowen but did not speak. Their eyes locked, and Rowen nodded. They were on their way to the Wazir; Rowen's request had been accepted. They walked for quite a distance before entering an open area, a large room with soldiers positioned along each wall. At the far end of the roomwas a raised platform, and on it was a thick, intricately decorated throne.

The Wazir was a king among his people, and that was very clear. He stood as they approached and descended the platform as they came to stand before him. He wasn't what Dumas had expected, although he wasn't sure what he'd expected. This man was tall and lean but solidly built and moved with a fluid-like agility that was mesmerizing. He did not appear old, although he had lived for several thousand years, with his presence dating back to the days of the pharaohs. He was an enigma in the truest sense of the word.

He looked of Mediterranean decent dark and tanned. His hair was black, as were his eyes that saw all and knew everything and remained suspicious. He was stunningly handsome, dressed in silks and gems, and held the air of a man who feared absolutely nothing. Dumas would remember this meeting, and he would remember this man.

The Wazir looked at Rowen, who then dropped his head and stared at the floor. "What is it that you seek from me, Rowen, and why do you bring this man to my court?" His voice was like soft, rolling thunder with the undertone of an ever-present threat.

He looked at Dumas and held his gaze, and it wasn't long before he had a full grasp on who stood before him. Understanding snapped between them, and suddenly, Dumas felt the connection take form. Heat and energy pulsed through him, leaving a mark on his soul. Dumas was shocked at the power this man could wield. The Wazir had just claimed his first hellhound.

"Welcome, Dumas, to the land and lair of the stray cats. I am the King of the Felines and the Prophet of Bastet herself."He stated with a half smile that showed straight white teeth and incisors sharp as daggers. "I am the King of all the strays and of one hellhound." He was now beholden to his Bard, Master Hadden, and the Wazir. Dumas smiled in return, warmed by the welcome and inclusion.

"Thank you for having me, sir," Dumas responded respectfully.

"It's a pleasure, a true pleasure." He said and then turned to Rowen. "You chose wisely, my son. Your mate is a treasure, a hellhound of note, and worth and a valuable addition to my community of strays."

Rowen seemed confused at first but caught up quickly and gave Dumas a subtle but cheeky grin. “I agree, sir.”

“Presenting your mate to me was not your only reason for requesting this meeting.” He stated and waited.

Rowen explained the deaths and disappearances in the lowlands and the rising evil. He made clear the need for a rapid end to the threat that hung over them all. "I'm asking on behalf of Master Nikolas Hadden for your pack's assistance. They wander the lowlands and see so much, and no one notices." Silence fell for several minutes.

"They will not fight for him." He said, and Rowen interjected immediately.

“He’s not asking for that kind of support. He’s asking for eyes and ears on the ground so he can locate the evil and dispatch it before more are killed and the human’s interest grows deeper.” Dumas was impressed with how his mate stayed calm and focused in the face of this powerful individual. Everything he’d heard of the Wazir might be true, but at this moment, he knew him as a strict, formidable, and devoted leader.

“He will owe me a favor in exchange.” He stated.

Rowen nodded in agreement. Dumas wasn’t sure if the man held the power to be answering for the Master but now was not the time to nitpick the details. “Are we agreed?” Rowen asked and again the Wazir made him wait as he looked him up and down and with a glance over to Dumas he responded.

"Yes, we have an agreement." Without another word, the Wazir turned and walked away, and the two guards took them back to the doors where they'd entered. As soon as they stepped out, they returned to the back lot of the warehouse and were standing in the sunlight. Only a few minutes had passed, although it felt like hours.

Once back in the SUV Dumas called Josef and let him know the agreement was struck and the strays would join the surveillance team. He also mentioned the favor exchange and was relieved when Josef laughed, referring to a similar deal they’d made with Master DuCane many years ago and how that had turned out.

He closed the call and reached over, taking Rowen's hand in his. "That was interesting."

“Sorry I didn’t tell you that there was a possibility he would connect and mark you as one of his own. It rarely happens so I didn’t bring it up. I’m sorry.” Rowen was very apologetic, but it was unnecessary.

“I’m honored to be a part of your pack, and your Wazir is a respectable man.” Rowen smiled. “He didn’t appear to hold any grudge against you.”

"The grudge was all mine, I'm afraid. I said things in anger and thought he wouldn't want to see me again, but all he was waiting for was for me to reach out. Life lessons, I fucking hate life lessons."

"Don't we all." Dumas laughed, pulled out of the lot, and headed downtown. Rowen needed to report to work, and Dumas wanted to join the foot patrol in the lowlands.

Rowen entered the station and was immediately congratulated for solving the lowlands case. Cal Grainger came in and confessed to the killings and said that Det. Dalhousie was the reason for his decision to come clean. The memories they'd placed in his mind painted a perfect picture of a man believing he was trapped with no way out.

"Good work convincing that creep to come clean." His Sergeant praised him.

“Thank you.” Rowen played along.

“He’s refusing to tell us what he did with the other bodies, but we’ll get it out of him in time.”

“I hope so.” Rowen went to his desk and decided to finish the write up on this case following the information given to him by the vampires. It was awkward as hell but necessary for the safety of all paranormals.

"Grainger has confessed to the crimes." The Mage shouted. "He got scared and probably believes that the police will protect him from us no doubt."

“It works in our favor either way.” The magic assisting with the ritual commented. “The cops will let down their guard and we can find another sacrifice without them breathing down our necks.”

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