“Make me,” Randy taunted, followed by a pause and then laughter as he added, “Oh man, guess you didn’t know? Unlike Lou, your googly-eyed mind trick won’t work on me.”
“But you can die like him,” she hissed.
“Oh no,” I gasped. “Randy!”
“Don’t worry,” Cillian murmured. “He’s got this.”
To show me, Cillian pivoted with me in his arms so I could see Randy stalking towards us with Sophia’s body slung over his shoulder. Gwen trotted by his side, long blade in one hand, a severed head in the other.
“Brought you an early gift, boss,” Gwen chirped giving her trophy a shake. “Dumb cow was so focused on Randy she never heard me sneaking up behind.”
“What do you want me to do with her, boss?” Randy asked.
“Dump her torso with the other bodies, but make sure the head isn’t anywhere close, just in case. Set the place on fire before you leave.”
“That seems wasteful,” I stated, the strain in my throat easing. “Surely you can dispose of the corpses another way so that the toys in those crates can be donated to kids. It is, after all, Christmas.”
“I don’t think their parents would appreciate that.” Cillian inclined his head and that apparently acted as a signal for Gwen to stab one of the loose soccer balls causing it to puff white powder.
My eyes widened. “Is that cocaine?”
“Yes. There’s also fentanyl, opioids, and other nasty stuff hidden inside the crates. The drugs were set to be shipped across the country and sold dirt cheap, which would have triggered an overdose crisis.”
“Pretty sure the country’s already in the midst of one,” I pointed out.
“And this would have exacerbated it by the sheer volume Sophia planned to dump.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Quick money to replace some poor investments. Put cities in turmoil to make live hunting less noticeable. Because she is sadistic.” Cillian rolled his shoulders. “Criminals don’t need many reasons to break the laws and cause harm.”
Grawr.
Well damn, I’d forgotten about the hellhounds. Apparently, they’d finished their satyr meal, but only one of them lifted its head to lazily curl a lip and make a sound. The other three appeared to be in a drugged stupor, collapsed around what remained of Tom.
“What’s wrong with them?” I asked.
“They’re high on satyr blood, and before you ask, it doesn’t have the same effect on vampires.”
“Bummer.” Then because of how he might take it, I quickly added, “Not that I want to get fucked up. Hell, it’s been ages since I’ve even had a toke.”
“You don’t have to worry about overdosing or addiction anymore. While we can get high, the effects are short-lived.”
“Seems weird drugs will affect us but we can’t be nourished with food and drink,” I noted.
“Guess I should have clarified. I’m not talking about human drugs. It’s about the type of blood we ingest. Leprechauns, for example, are magically delicious.”
“You’re fucking with me.”
“Only once we get home,” was his deadpan reply. “Speaking of which, Randy and Gwen,” he raised his voice, “Don’t forget to handle the hounds before we set the place ablaze.” Cillian gave his orders and began walking away from the clusterfuck, still holding me in his arms.
“Hold on a second, you’re going to euthanize the dogs?”
“It’s the usual protocol for murdering beasts,” his dry reply.
“Tom gave them no choice. Seems wrong to kill them after they helped me.”
Cillian arched a brow. “Are you asking me to spare the hellhounds?”
