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He didn't say anything, and that in itself was damning.
"Turn around and place your hands behind your back."
"There is no need for this," he said quietly, even as he obeyed. "And there was a good reason for sending you home last night."
"I don't care if there was or there wasn't. And there is every need for me to do this. There are consequences for every action, Quinn. It's about time I started making you pay for yours."
"We - "
"Are finished." I looked at Rhoan. "You ready?"
He nodded, then looked at Quinn. "Don't try anything. If she doesn't shoot you, I will."
"For interrogating a suspect?"
"No. For abusing Riley's trust yet again." He picked up Maisie, throwing her like a securely cuffed sack over his shoulder. "Let's get this show on the road."
I stepped back and waved Quinn past me. He gave me his vampire face, but the air fairly burned with his anger. And surprise.
He hadn't expected that I'd really end it. Hadn't believed that I'd meant what I said.
Now all I had to do was find the strength to really walk away. on, we have a problem. I was gripping the knife so hard my knuckles positively ached, but I hadn't yet drawn the blade from the sheath. I had a bad feeling that if I moved, if I so much as twitched, the thing in the corner with the fearsome-looking teeth would attack.
And those teeth looked strong enough to bite me in half.
There's a demon? Quinn's tension suddenly flooded the link between us, until I wasn't sure where his ended and mine began.
If a hellhound is classed as a demon, then yeah, one of them.
A hellhound is a stronger class of demon, and won't be stopped by the salt. It can, however, be burned by holy water.
I awkwardly began to undo the lid of the water bottle one-handed. As shields went, it didn't inspire a whole lot of confidence. Particularly when the creature lowered its head and snarled again. The sound rolled around the room, and if I'd been in wolf form, hackles would have risen. This thing might be a demon, but it was a doggy demon, and my wolf soul just didn't take to being threatened by anything canine.
Which is why I mostly kept my wolf in check. Sometimes she had absolutely no sense.
Do I need to slice its head off to kill it, or will any old well-placed stab work?
Slowly, carefully, I began to draw the knife from the sheath. The rumbling growl got louder, the threat in the creature's eyes sharper.
I'm afraid you'll have to take its head off.
Crap. That meant getting closer to those needle-sharp, feet-long teeth than anyone with any sort of sense would want to.
The knife finally inched clear of the sheath. The hellhound's growl reverberated again, a low sound of warning and anger. Tension crawled through my limbs and sweat broke out across my brow. With the knife at the ready, I continued my awkward attempt to undo the water bottle.
The hellhound sprang. I threw myself sideways, hitting the wooden floor harder than necessary and driving the air from my lungs. As I gasped at the shock, the bottle slipped from my hand and rolled away, spurting droplets of water that sizzled and steamed across the floor as it did so. I cursed and lunged after it, only to hear the click of sharp nails tearing wood as the creature came at me again. I rolled away and slashed sideways with the knife. The blade scraped across the hound's hide, slicing through hair but not skin.
It snarled, revealing nasty-looking gums to accompany the nasty teeth. I jumped to my feet, waving the knife in front of me, trying to catch the creature's attention long enough to try an attack. It was smarter than that. Its gaze stayed on mine, luminous and deadly. The fear stirring my stomach got stronger. I hadn't signed on to fight creatures of myth and magic. Psychos and rogue vampires were more than enough for me.
The hellhound sprung again. I twisted out of its way, slashing at the soft flesh of his neck, hoping to at least sever something vital. Rut it shifted at the last moment, becoming something less than substantial, and suddenly it was behind me.
Teeth sank into my flesh, spilling warmth down the back of my leg. I bit back a scream and twisted around, driving the knife blade deep into the creature's right eye, into his skull.
Blood gushed from the creature's eye socket, spilling warmly over my fingers. The creature roared and wrenched its head backward, tearing my flesh in the process. Pain Hashed white hot through my body, and my breath hissed through clenched teeth. But I kept a grip on the knife, and forced myself to move - hobble - out of the creature's immediate reach.
My knife blow had been hard enough, and deep enough, to have struck brain matter. It should have killed it outright. It didn't, because this was no ordinary beastie. Something I'd partially forgotten in the heat of battle.
The hound shook its head, spraying droplets of blood that hit the force-warding stones and sizzled out of existence. Then it leapt, arcing across the small space that separated us. Again I twisted out of the way, but this time it must have been expecting the move, because it shifted in midair. Its body hit mine, thrusting me forward with incredible force.
