Page 36 of Hounded: Ashes to Ashes

Loren put his pen to a fresh piece of paper, and I peeked over his shoulder to watch him write,She has a contract on her soul. Like me.

Not anymore, though. Moira was gone, and Loren was free. At least, that was how I assumed it worked. He didn’t have a collar. He might not even be a hellhound anymore. But then what was he?

He’d told me before that if he killed Moira or even hurt her, he would die. The hound spirit would leave, and he would be an empty husk. I hadn’t realized before that, when the demon mistress evaporated from the middle of Sully’s living room,Loren could have disappeared, too. I could have killed him by handing over my vial of tears. Almost did.

Pitching forward, I wrapped my arms around Loren’s waist and pressed my face against his back. I’d picked the sweater he was wearing because it was one of his favorites. Cable knit and cozy with the sleeve cuffs fuzzed from constant fidgeting. He rubbed at one now, pinning it between his fingertips and palm and smoothing his fingertips across it.

Sully skimmed the additional note and hummed. “So, it’s blackmail. That’s a hard thing to combat considering we don’t have anything to offer.”

“That’s how they prefer to do things,” Whitney grumbled. “All demons see is leverage and means of control. And those contracts are watertight, so don’t bother trying to find a loophole.”

I wanted to ask ifhe’dtried—I knew Loren had—but the answer became obvious when he lifted his teacup from the counter and frowned into it.

“My wards won’t help, either,” Sully continued, seeming to think out loud as she processed the information. “Any spell can be countered…” She glanced at Loren. “Do you think she’s very skilled, Lore? Very old?”

He paused, then stood, yanking a nearly complete braid out of my grip so I had to watch it unfurl as he walked across the room toward the apartment door. Bending, he grabbed a bulky tote bag from the floor. I hadn’t noticed it before.

Carrying it back to the living area, he delivered it to Sully, who peered inside.

“What is this?” she asked.

Loren tipped his chin in a motion for her to see for herself, and she stirred her hand through the unseen contents before deciding to upend them on the rug instead. That felt risky, especially after I saw the collection of arcane items tumbling out.Bundled herbs and dried flowers, crystal shards, an entire deck of tarot cards, and what looked like a pocket grimoire littered the ground.

Sully knelt among the assortment, brushing her fingers over one thing then the next. Her eyes widened as she aimed them at Loren.

“This is hers?”

He nodded.

What I mistook for surprise shifted rapidly into panic, maybe even terror, as Sully began scooping up the items and shoveling them back into the bag.

“It can’t be here,” she muttered, shaking her head and causing her dreadlocks to swing. “She’ll come for it.”

I stood and gawked after Sully as she ferried the bag and its contents to the kitchen sink. She dumped them into the steel basin, then yanked open a nearby drawer to grab out a pack of matches.

With a swipe and a swish, fire struck, and she dropped the match on top of the satchel. The fabric was slow to catch, and the rest of us stared while Sully cupped her hands on either side of her mouth and blew on the tiny flame.

What should have extinguished the match turned it into a blaze. The bag and everything in it went up in a belch of fire that made me worry about the smoke detectors. After a few moments, the fire began to die back, and I glanced over at Loren. He looked perplexed while he worried the cuff of his sleeve.

Sully noticed him, too, and her expression eased into one of remorse. “It’s okay, Lore. It was good to take it from her, just not for us to have it. There are all kinds of tracking spells…” She trailed off, then offered a wavering smile. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

Loren stayed in place, Sully monitored the smoldering fire, Whitney glared at his tea rather than drinking it, and I realized it was my turn to participate in the discussion.

“Hey, Sully?” I began in a small voice. “Remember the guy who gave me the spray paint?”

The dying fire lit Sully’s dark eyes as she fixed them on me. “The angel?”

Loren’s head whipped around to catch my gaze as I grimaced.

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “The angel. He said the hounds are all loose now. Not just you guys.” I shared a meaningful glance with Whitney and Loren. “He acted like it was a bad thing. Like they’ll cause trouble for everyone, and I think?—”

“You’re quite the popular fellow, aren’t you?” Whitney interrupted, finally moving from his stool. “Making contacts on every plane.”

As he approached, Loren moved into his path. There was a sudden air of tension that I didn’t understand. Both hellhounds focused on each other in a seconds-long stare down. When Whitney reached toward his hip, Loren let out a low growl.

“I won’t hurt your pet, Lorenzo,” Whitney scoffed, “but he owes some explanation for this. Miss didn’t care about the phoenix before now. Didn’t care about ascending. I’d like to know what he said to change her mind.”

I stepped forward only to be stopped by Loren’s arm barred across my chest.

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