Page 47 of Hell Raising and Other Pastimes (Grave Concerns 2)

I figured magic was a bad answer, so I kept quiet.

“The dragon, the beast of smoke and fire, that’s our true form. At the heart of it, however, we carry a spark of the living. When we were created, a drop of mortal blood was added to allow us passage into the living realm. We are of hell, but our strength comes from that tiny drop, that spark. It’s what gives us an edge over things wholly from hell.”

“Still not getting your point.”

He tilted his head, as if waiting for me to get it.

He had to be overestimating my intelligence because nothing came to mind.

He blew out a slow breath. “That spark isn’t just blood—it’s the life force of a mortal, andyouhave one of those.”

“But you can go to the living world. Why not just pick up a mortal there?”

“Because hellhounds are made in hell, but with a spark of life. That means, to us, there isn’t anything more delicious than a mortal who has spent time in hell. It appeals to every side of our being. Nothing better.”

Delicious.

There was no worse word to hear as a descriptor, and it made it clear that while rape was beneath him, eating people wasn’t.

“I’m super gamy. I don’t exercise either, so my fat content is really high. Also, I eat alotof sweets, so expect a sugar spike and crash,” I rambled. There was no way to pretend the words coming from my lips weren’t random, but I wasn’t sure what else to do or say.

I’dseenHunter in action, and even if Jerrod wasn’t as powerful, he was far higher up the evolutionary ladder than I was.

“I never understood why Hunter abstains. He used to revel in what he was, but now? Now he pretends he doesn’t even want it anymore, which I knew is a lie. No one ever loses that craving.”

Now?

“Hunter neveratepeople.”

Jerrod laughed as he rose to his feet. “You see who he wants you to see, who he pretends he is now. Everyone has a past and that past is who they really are. Trust me, Hunter and I tracked and slaughteredplentyof mortals side by side, the unlucky ones who ended up down here. There is nothing quite like that. Killing and consuming humans in the living realm? Boring. When they cross that barrier, though,that’swhen they’re good, as if that cooks them, makes them ready. You’ve been here in hell fordays,basically marinating. How he’s resisted this long, I have no idea.”

He came forward and leaned in, drawing a slow breath as if savoring a steak fresh off the barbeque.

I kicked him, but he didn’t even budge. Instead, he slid his fingers into my hair and inhaled again, burying his face against my throat. “I wonder if I started, if Hunter would join in. He couldn’t possibly turn down a meal like you, not after I’ve unwrapped you.”

Unwrappedhad one hell of a bad connotation then.

He shifted, his hand turning to smoke before his body transformed into that huge beast. He barely fit in the room, his scales dark without any real light to reflect off them. His muzzle was large enough that he could have bitten down on my head in a single bite.

That gaping maw of his opened, teeth sharp and long, breath like fire, before he was slammed backward, regaining his human form in the blink of an eye as his body fell to the ground.

“You failed to invite me to dinner? That’s just rude.”

I turned and scooted away when a new man stood in the small room, someone I hadn’t seen enter. He wore a black suit with pin stripes and a red tie. His hair was black and smoothed backward, with large horns that left his temples and curled back.

He looked like another other citizen but…better, as if hell hadn’t shifted him into a monster but somehow only made him more handsome. His eye were red, like Kase’s when he lost control, but this man showed no lack of control.

Jerrod pushed himself up weakly, and with one look at who was there, dropped to his knees. “I didn’t mean to—”

Again the man flicked his fingers and Jerrod slammed against the wall. Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth when he hit the ground.

“I have few rules here, and even fewer for beasts like yourself. My one consistent, however, is to not meddle in my affairs.”

“I didn’t—” Again, his explanation was cut short, this time when the man lifted his hand and Jerrod’s body hovered as if held aloft by some invisible grip. His toes brushed the dirt as he was pulled closer to the man.

“You did. You hoped I wouldn’t notice, believed yourself too smart, but you chose to insert yourself into something you had no business in. I have few rules and even fewer consequences.”

Jerrod’s eyes widened, and he kicked his feet. Nothing could shake whatever held him, though, and the tattoos that wound around his body, just like Hunter’s, pulsed. They shifted, until the black gave way to red, until the smoke marks turned to flames.

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