Page 44 of Hybrid Heroics

“If you’re going to bitch at each other, then you can leave,” I informed them. “If you’re going to stay, then figure out how to be productive. This isn’t fucking helping.”

“I’ve got some ideas,” Palmer muttered. “But I need some space to think through all the shit in my head. When they decide why they’re here, let me know.”

He walked away, and I trailed behind him. Despite his earlier snark with Amelia, we were the only two people in the group thinking somewhat logically and consistently.

Someone had to start making sound decisions for the group.

We needed to know what we were doing here and how long we were staying.

Who was supposed to lead while Barbie was out of commission?

Before we met her, we would have said Vaughn was the one who would make big decisions for the group. Because he was the most logical and sound of us…

But that wasn’t necessarily the case anymore.

And the new pecking order being in disarray was wearing us down.

Tuesday, June 23rd

Late Night

After Palmer and Briggs left, I sat on the floor with my back against the sofa, twirling a lock of Sloane’s silver hair around my finger.

A few moments passed before Stone left the room, too. York stared after the demon, concern creasing his brow.

He tipped his head toward the door, murmuring, “I’ll be right back.”

That left Novak and me in the living room with our unresponsive mate... and her parents. I wasn’t sure what to say. And for maybe the first time ever, the vampire was speechless as well.

“Where are the hounds?” Sam asked, peeking around the room.

“Cronus is inside,” I responded. “Atlas and Helios are outside somewhere.”

“I didn’t see them.”

Novak shrugged. “Well, they’re currently butterflies, so…”

The Second Devil of Hell nodded slowly. “Butterflies?”

“Yep.” There wasn’t much else to say.

“Makes perfect sense,” he assured us. “Who would expect such delicate insects to be demon-eating hellhounds?”

“I believe that was Trouble’s thinking as well,” Novak admitted.

“You call her Trouble?” Amelia asked. “As a nickname?”

He grinned. “She is trouble, but that’s my vice. I’ve called her that since day one.”

“You say day one like we’ve been with her for fifty years,” I teased

“Sometimes it feels that way.”

“Don’t I know it?”

Amelia studied us curiously before she asked me, “What do you call her?”

“Usually, Lo, but occasionally, Princess.”