Page 117 of Hounded: Ashes to Ashes

A swell of sobs overcame his words as we stood there, quietly mourning while Sully and the hounds looked on. It hurt, but it healed, too. I rarely knew exactly when I was going to die, and Iliked the idea of doing it right this time. Going out on my own terms. Getting to say goodbye.

We spent the night doing all our favorite things. We lounged on the pillow pile on Sully’s living room floor, eating snack cakes and drinking wine. The others crowded around while we watched the Golden Girls. And we laughed and cried some more.

After a while, everyone else went to bed. I wasn’t sure how they vanished in the small apartment, but they were determined enough to give Loren and me some privacy that they made it work.

The TV played an oldies marathon and, with no other lights on, the colors from the screen painted Loren’s face. I watched him, studying every piece that put him together because they were my pieces, too. He was in me, weaving through my insides like soft thread, and tying a pretty bow around my heart. I would gift it to him forever. No hesitation. No regret.

Shifting my cross-legged position, I turned toward him.

“Lore?” His gaze cut my way, and I smiled, then asked, “Can I play with your hair?”

He nodded, eager but aching. I felt the same while I braided his hair and kissed his neck.

Somehow, he worked his way into my lap. He balled up small to fit as much of himself as he could in my arms. And he cried. Quiet, cringing tears dampened his cheeks before I wiped them away.

I dried his face, and the television played, and I held him.

I wanted him as imprinted on my body as he was on my heart, so when I died my last thoughts would be of him, and I would be too full of love to be afraid.

Sometime before dawn, we dozed off, entangled in each other and finally at peace for my last night on Earth.

Indy

Evander had warnedthat the hounds were coming, and they were kind enough to wait till after breakfast. They didn’t knock or do anything to herald their arrival, they just poured in, knocking down the apartment door and shattering the window by the fire escape.

Sully’s wards worked like an electric fence that fried skin and hair, deflecting several of the attackers while others crawled through the barrier sizzling and snarling. Loren, Dottie, Abigail, and Gunnar armed themselves and went to work. It was a bloody display. The incoming hounds were stunned and wounded, giving our pack an advantage that showed in severed limbs and disembodied heads sent rolling across the floor.

I stood back with Sully, torn between horror and some kind of weird fear boner I didn’t have time to sort out. It was a little bit hot to see Loren’s towering silhouette swinging the glaive with deadly precision, awakening some sexy grim reaper fantasies I never knew I had.

But this was merely the opening credits to a much bigger show. Slaughtering hellhounds was akin to cutting the heads off a hydra. They would respawn and return as long as their mastersent them. My fight was with Nero, and he wasn’t here, so I shouldn’t be, either.

A lull in the action permitted me to sprint forward and catch the sleeve of Loren’s sweater. He whirled around with his glaive gripped in both hands and a wild look on his face. Black blood stained his hands and dripped from the curved blade of his weapon while I tried not to swoon.

When I opened my mouth to urge him to leave, I blurted instead, “You look so fucking good right now.”

He twitched, like his brain was glitching trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with me.

Terror and nerves and performance anxiety collided in a maelstrom that made me want to dive out the broken window and fly away. It made me stupid. And shaky. And stumbling over myself to course correct as I batted at the air as though I could shoo the dumb away.

“Forget I said that,” I said, feeling tense and breathless. “I’m gonna remember this, is all.” My gaze flicked over him from head to toe, and I flashed an uneven grin. “Battle-mode boyfriend.”

“Indy!” Loren’s prompting stopped the verbal vomit and put my thoughts on board a productive train of thought.

“Right.” I bobbed my head. “We have to go. Do you know where Nero is?”

Loren nodded back, and the polearm vanished.

We’d discussed it last night during commercial breaks and quiet moments. The other hounds believed the archdemon had retreated to Hell after the bowling alley attack. Odds were even he would come back, which was why Loren and I had waited for our venture into Hell. Well, that and because I had selfishly claimed those final hours for myself. I’d wanted that last meal, last kiss, last everything.

The clash of metal and yelping of wounded dogs cluttered the air. Sully’s neighbors would be wondering about the mid-morning battle royale. Like a puppy playdate that had gone horribly awry when the puppies started trying to rip each other’s throats out.

I tugged on Loren’s sleeve again, then pointed at a patch of brick wall between Sully’s bookshelves. I’d seen him open hellish portals all kinds of places, so I assumed anywhere would do. I also assumed I could go through them, which might have been a logical leap considering I was, apparently, a heavenly being, and the gates of the lower plane might be closed to me. If that were the case, I would have to wait for Nero to make his next appearance topside, but without being sure how long my phoenix batteries would hold a charge, I didn’t dare delay.

We broke into motion and almost collided with Sully, who had come up behind us with her arms spread wide enough to catch us both in them.

“Good luck, you two.” Her voice muffled as her face pressed between our shoulders. Leaning away, she brought her hands to press one to my cheek and the other to Loren’s. Her mocha-brown eyes shimmered. “I want you both back, you understand? If there’s a way, promise you’ll find it.”

My mouth went so dry I knew my voice would crack, so I nodded, then hugged her while angry yips and howls rang out behind us.

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