“Lucky me.” I was still wearing Ronan’s sweatshirt, and now I pulled the hood up over my head, losing myself in a wave of his cloves-and-campfire scent. The back of my nose stung with unshed tears. “Where is Ronan? I really need to see him.”
“He’s taking care of some other business, but he’ll meet up with you soon.” Deirdre held out her arm. “Come. I’ll show you around the casino while we wait.”
I nodded, numb, grateful to let someone else make the decisions. The conversation with Sebastian had worn me out, and the unspent magic inside was making me feel fidgety, like I’d had too much caffeine. A walk would probably do me some good.
The hounds and I accompanied Deirdre back through the corridor maze to a sleek and silent elevator, which we took to the lobby level below, forty-two stories down. I had no idea what time it was; there were no windows anywhere in sight.
The casino, I learned, was called Inferno—a little on the nose for my taste, but the decor was a good fit, with deep reds and oranges on the carpeting and walls, accented with golden lights and a massive fountain in the center, lit up to look like real flickering flames.
If I didn’t know so much about the owner, I might’ve been impressed.
The main gaming area looked exactly like the ones I’d seen on television—bright and glitzy, screaming with the sounds of music and cheers and beeping, blaring slot machines. The only difference was that this casino was packed with supernaturals, all of them blending right in alongside the clueless humans.
“I guess no one’s immune to the siren call of of the slots and the tables,” I said, watching a fae woman blow seductively on the dice of her vampire companion.
“Sebastian’s built quite an empire on our many vices,” she said. “This is one of six properties he owns in Nevada.” She told me a little bit more about the casinos, the demon security team, and the live shows, painting a glossy sheen over the less savory but even more lucrative parts of the business—prostitution. Drugs. Smuggling of all sorts. I pretended to be interested, and she pretended to be happy to give the tour, and a million unsaid things hung in the air between us.
I had so many questions for this woman, and under normal circumstances, I would’ve leaped at the chance to spend time with her. My grandmother. The mother of the father I couldn’t even remember. A witch, like me, who’d somehow ended up in Sebastian’s service.
But each time I opened my mouth, I lost track of my words. Every potential question felt loaded and dangerous, a Pandora’s Box of possible pitfalls and fresh heartaches.
“Tell me about them,” I said instead, indicating hounds behind us, still glaring at me with those creepy red eyes. “I take it they’re not invisible.” People were definitely noticing them. The humans in the casino shot us curious glances, but the supernaturals gave us a wide birth.
“To humans, they look like service dogs,” Deirdre explained, just as a man backpedalled out of our path. She let out a soft chuckle. “Big, scary service dogs, perhaps, but nothing so horrifying as their true form. Supernaturals can see them as they are.”
“Are they always going to follow me around like this?”
Deirdre nodded. “They are charged with keeping you safe as well as preventing your escape.”
“They’ve got their work cut out for them,” I grumbled, but if Deirdre heard me, she ignored it. “Do they have names?”
“Sebastian has never bothered to name his beasts. As far as he’s concerned, they’re possessions like any other.”
For some reason, that made me sad. Every being deserved a name. Even grotesque, cranky hellhounds. Especially hounds that were going to spend the rest of eternity getting up close and personal with me.
The last time I’d been this close to hellhounds, they’d damn near killed me protecting me in my magical realm. I hadn’t forgotten the sharp pierce of their claws, the weight of those massive paws knocking me to the ground…
Toughen up, buttercup. You’ve stared down a lot worse than hellhounds in recent weeks.
Swallowing my fear and revulsion, I knelt down before them, meeting them at eye level. Their eyes glowed like hot coals, their breath carrying the stench of rotten meat and blood.
I really, really hoped I wouldn’t be in charge of feeding them. Or cleaning up after them.
“Male or female?” I asked Deirdre, tentatively holding out my hand for them to sniff. They approached at the same time, their noses cold and wet as they pressed them to my palm.
When they didn’t attack, I took a gamble and shifted my hands to their heads, rubbing just behind their ears. Their fur was coarse and matted, but not all that different from a dog’s.
And, just like dogs, they melted into two happy, goofy puppies at my touch.
“Aww, you’re not so tough after all, huh?” I laughed, moving in to scratch a little more. When I started showing one more attention, the other one nipped playfully at my hand.
Sophie had always wanted dogs. Two of them, actually.Witches need familiars!she’d said.And we can’t just get one. Two at a minimum. They need companionship, just like we do.
I’d always shot down the idea—I didn’t need a familiar, because I wasn’t a witch. Not out loud, anyway. Besides, dogs seemed like a lot of work.
But now, as they snuffled and licked at my hands, wagging their tails as if we’d always belonged to each other, I was overcome with a sense of rightness so intense, it brought tears to my eyes.
It was crazy—this wholethingwas crazy—but I suddenly knew without a doubt that these animals—these hellhounds—were supposed to be with me. Not because Sebastian had ordered it. Not because of any stupid contract or demonic spell. We just… belonged to each other.
