Prologue
Abe knew the smell of a hellhound; the stench of death, rotting and foul, and invading everything it touched. His old human instincts told him to run, that it was idiotic to be in the middle of a cemetery. It was feeding the hellhound. If he left it too long he’d have to call in to the council for backup. His comrades would never let him hear the end of it.
Peering out across the vast cemetery he watched as the low mist swirled ominously amongst the tombstones, glowing beneath a full moon. Double-bad juju, as Ingrid might mutter. His hand hovered over his sword, twitching anxiously. He wouldn’t draw, not until the hellhound appeared. After all, he may have been immortal, but he wasn’t about to tempt fate. It had a way of stinging him in the arse when he least expected it.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are little hound,” he sang quietly as he made his way down amongst the tombstones. “I’ll make this quick.”
A shadow flashed in the corner of his eye. He spun to face it but it vanished out of view. What a quick little hound you are, he thought admiringly, and smart too. Normally, hellhounds were mindless servants of Hades, which was normal after a long time under his control. For one to be smart still, to be wary of him and not attack immediately, was rare, and meant it had only turned recently. He felt a stab of pity. Most hellhounds have no idea of their origin until they turn. Heck, how they even come about is a mystery; some say people strike deal with Hades, other say genetic like werewolves, a few even say they’re cursed souls. None lived long enough to be asked. They’d all been too far gone to save.
The shadow darted again, closer but still out of sight, out of reach. It seemed curious, lingering wisely just out of his range, and measuring him. Then, as he lifted his gaze, sensing the mist shift slightly, he saw it. Two luminous blue eyes from within the mist itself, a mere shadowy form of a large wolf, half hidden behind a tombstone. As it held his gaze the hellhound remained where it was. He took a step forward, it took two back. His hand brushed his sword and a low, feral snarl resounded before him.
“So, you know what this is, what I am.”
To his surprise the hound took a brazen step forward, snarling. “Hunter.”
The voice sounded female, though hoarse and thunderous. Power resounded in that voice. He stilled. Never in his long life had he heard a hellhound talk. It seemed impossible. Yet, he knew he wasn’t hearing things. The hound said what he was, knew his sword – maybe it even sensed all the lives claimed by it. It was possible.
“So, why did you stop here? I mean, points for the creepy factor and this is a usual haunt for your kind but I’ve been hunting you for three days now. You knew I was following you. So, why stop here?”
He didn’t expect some sort of long winded explanation but he was curious. As far as tracking had gone it had been three hard days. The hellhound was quick and knew how to cover her tracks. It hadn’t been easy to find her but then, barely ten hours prior, he’d found more and more clues. At first, it had seemed like she was becoming sloppy, then it was obvious. She was drawing him in but why? So, he’d followed, somewhat cautiously and come to the cemetery.
The hellhound circled closer, clinging to the shadows until it stepped into the moonlight before him. Black fur shimmered silver, the ends translucent as she shifted from paw to paw, uneasy at being still. Frost blue eyes stared back, watching him keenly.
It took a step forward, then another – the wind gusted suddenly through the cemetery. Her head pricked up suddenly, eyes narrowing. Her mouth peeled back, snarling low and viciously, and her hackles pricked up.
“What is it?”
“Death,” came the snarled response.
Abe followed her gaze through the low mist. A man materialised from shadow, clad in black leathers and a tattered cloak hung across broad shoulders. He felt that familiar chill snake down his spine. It had been two thousand years since he saw the figure walking towards him. He stopped a couple feet away when the hellhound’s snarls grew into furious barks, teeth gnashing together. She was holding back, however, though Abe didn’t know why. He felt confused, like he’d been cornered. Only, he didn’t know who was pulling the strings. The hellhound? Or the prick walking towards them?
“Hello Thanatos. Been a long time,” said Abe coldly. “How is the God of the Death?”
“Waiting for you,” he replied. “Now, step aside. I’m here to collect.”
The hellhound shifted a fraction closer to him. It started to dawn on him. Had she seen him as the better option to Thanatos? She didn’t know him but maybe she thought he might be able to do something. It was far more intelligence than he was expecting. Far more than any hellhound he’d met before. She glanced up at him with those far too knowing eyes, judging him. Trusting him, too, though quite reluctantly, eyes seeming to say, don’t make me regret picking you.
The clever hound had backed him into a corner. Bureau protocol stated he should step aside and let Thanatos claim her. On the other hand, he hated Thanatos for a myriad of wonderful screwed up reasons, so one-upping the God of Death by denying him the collection of a hound for Hades was sorely tempting.
“I’m probably going to regret this – you know what? I’m not. I take that back,” declared Abe. “She’s with me.”
“No, she’s not. She’s using you to ignore what must happen. Besides, you’re only going to kill her,” he said calmly.
“Those are my orders but pissing off the council I can live with. What is really rewarding, however, is denying you. Childish I know but I’m petty like that. Besides, this one doesn’t want to go with you and besides, I’m a sucker for a damsel in distress – or hellhound in distress as the case is,” Abe replied breezily. “So, unless I’m mistaken, given I’ve already staked a claim on her as a living person, you can’t touch her.”
Thanatos scowled; an ugly expression on a usually dark and beautiful face. Death was beautiful, if not anything else. His mouth, after a moment, pressed into a tight line before relaxing into a deep, irritated sigh. Then he smiled, a Cheshire cat that had all the cream.
“She won’t be bound to you or anyone. Why do you think Hades sent me personally to collect her? Your word will only protect her for so long. It’s not permanent.”
“I know but do run along little God. This one isn’t yours or Hades today.”
It looked like Thanatos wanted to fight it but he was bound. He had rights over death and the hellhound was a creature of one. Yet, when a living soul claimed ownership, especially one who still held enough unpaid debts with the right deities, the God of Death’s hands were bound. So he bowed with a stiff smile, then rose, dissolving into a plume of smouldering ash, carried away by a gust of wind.
Alone, the hellhound looked up, just for a split second, then took off. Abe stepped forward.
“If you run he’ll just come after you and I can’t let you leave, not alive anyway,” he shouted after her.
At the tree line she stopped dead. A low, resonating snarl ripped through the trees. Slowly, she turned and latched those cold, furious eyes on him. The anger radiated off her in thick, heavy waves.
“Leave me.”
“I can’t. If I fail the council will just send someone else and we both know Thanatos will return. The only way you’ll be safe is if you’re bound to someone living, which will keep you from Hades and may be enough to make the council happy to keep you alive.” He swallowed hard. “Look, I can’t die, so I’m your best chance at someone living that Thanatos can’t kill. Unless, you think you can find another like me in the time it takes for him to find you again?”
She snarled again at him and dug her paws into the ground. “Die.”
“You’re welcome to, if that’s your choice. Look, if you want to live, be my partner. I won’t command you to heel, I won’t control you. You’d have a life, a place to learn how to control what you are. So, what do you say? Live as my partner, be enslaved by Hades or die before you leave this cemetery. Your choice.”
She stalked slowly towards him, her teeth glinting dangerously in the moonlight, threatening in low, vicious snarls. Reminding him of what she was, that though he couldn’t die, she could still hurt him. She stopped right before him, almost as tall so that those dangerous eyes stared nearly straight back at his, and stopped snarling.
“Live,” she growled and, with a final short snarl, bowed her head.
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