“There’s always the suburbs.” A shiver works through Rhys, and I swear she thinks that’s the more hellish option than coming with us. If only she knew. Suburban housewives have nothing on me.
“Aric!” I scold, needing to shut this shit down and act as the buffer between the two once more. Every minute we spend here is a risk I’m done taking, but that’s all I have time to get out.
Magic tingles in the air and then zaps through it like lightning. Aric’s growl of pain is almost as surprising as the rip of fur and the harsh mewl that crawls down my spine like nails on a chalkboard. Not even Hell’s creatures are immune to that fucking sound.
In fact, it’s one of our more creative punishments for the wicked.
An afterlife of that sound grating on your ears is enough to drive anyone utterly insane. I know, because I’ve withstood that punishment.
Several times.
Where there was once a small gray cat now stands a monstrous feline as large as a lion and twice as fierce. Of course she would have a guardian. I almost kick myself for not realizing it sooner, except watching it attack my friend is worth the entertainment. Razor-sharp teeth sink into Aric’s meaty thigh, and he curses with the force of the strongest tempest as he tries to dislodge its jagged maw.
“This thing better have its fucking rabies shot,” he grits out as it slashes at his arms with razor-sharp claws.
“Loki?” Rhys squeaks in a terror-ridden pitch, her hands white knuckling her bag as she backs up until she hits the wall. Not Kyvain, not the information about taking her to Hell, not even the news I dropped about her mom made her eyes this wide. But watching her tiny cat turn into a guardian from Hell seems to have broken her brain.
“Fucking hellcats!” Aric spews as he fights off the predator determined to slash him to ribbons.
I chuckle. “Here, kitty kitty.” The coo is a melody filled with sarcasm as I watch Aric struggle—until the beast’s slitted eyes lock on me. Then it lunges.
“Fuck!” Flames shoot from my hands in a whirl of magic until I’m holding a fireblade. My arms lift with an arc of power. I lash out, and then swallow when the blade does nothing but swish through the cat’s fiery image without injury. The fire of my weapon is consumed, leaving me defenseless from the snapping jaws. The bones of the hellcat are cast in a shadowy glow as flames illuminate its insides.
I barely have time to whisk away in smoky magic before it shoots fire back at my face, trying to singe off my goddamn eyebrows.
Together, Aric and I work to tame the fucker, or at least that’s what I’m trying to do. I have a feeling Rhys will never forgive us if we kill her beloved cat—hellish guardian or not. I flicker in several times here and there, taunting it away from my friend, but it’s clear Aric doesn’t give a single fuck if the cat lives. With every vicious attack, he’s clearly trying to end its immortal life.
Claw marks tatter the wall in thick lines. The scent of fire is heavy in the air. Drops of blood are flung all over the floor with every lashing move Aric makes.
“Loki,” Rhys says in a steady tone, a whisper so quiet I barely hear it.
Big beastly eyes finally look away from us. Then, without warning, the hellcat shifts again, falling to tiny feet that pad happily out of the room and bound out of the open door.
My arms sting from the razor-thin cuts it slashed into my skin, and Aric’s leg is bleeding profusely. Dark blood coats the floor of Rhys’s bedroom, turning it into a more murderous scene than before.
I look up to find her. I expect her to be huddled in the corner, away from the mess we’ve created of her room. My stomach drops instantly. Slowly, my eyes harden to ice as they clash with the angry fire in Aric’s.
“She’s fucking gone!”
Chapter Nine
Four Mates
Rhys
In a matter of minutes, I’m nearing the fence with a small—possibly deadly—cat in my bag. I run so fast I can’t even feel the ground beneath my feet. It’s exhilarating to see how much faster and stronger I am since letting my wolf out into the world.
Loki lets out a low disgruntled meow whenever the bag jostles against my back.
“It’s okay, pretty boy,” I coo, but I have no idea if I’m saying the right thing.
My house cat almost killed a dragon shifter.
And that fucking dragon shifter almost killed my innocent pet.
Would those men kill me too if I became too much of a hassle for them? They led me on with talk of my mother, but they insulted me when they continuously threw it in my face that I have no one and nothing here.
I do have a friend. A bond with someone that’s stronger than family.
