The gangster stared at him with a look of part disgust, part unease.
“You are in so much shit,” chortled Sam, when eventually he could talk.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” snarled the gangster, looking increasingly alarmed. “You are a no one.”
Sam nodded in agreement, “True, but my boyfriend is not someone to mess with.”
The gangster’s eyes widened and he put his sunglasses back on, but it was too late. Sam had seen his fear. He knew nobody stayed in power in the crime world without being good at reading people. The young man was obviously picking up on his honesty.
“You are bluffing,” said the gangster, trying to sound certain.
Sam shrugged, “I guess we will see.”
He wondered why he felt so confident. Sure, Lucifer’s husband had pretty much admitted to fearing Tally, but Tally had no magic here. He had once stopped the Roman empire single handedly, but that was with a body that could wield power. Would Tally even be able to find him?
Tally hadn’t stopped the pimp from dragging him off? But maybe he had panicked or Benji had been in control. Perhaps Sam had jumped in before Tally had needed to do anything.
Sam chuckled to himself as he realized he had, at some point, finally accepted everything Tally had told him. Tally was his past life lover, had escaped hell after thousands of years to be with him again. He was friends with demons and hellhounds. There was no way he was going to let these silly little humans hurt him. He had never been more sure of anything.
All he had to do was sit back, wait, and enjoy the show.
He was aware of more gangsters behind him out of sight and as he sat there he heard more come in from outside. Had the young man signaled for reinforcements? The thought was deeply amusing.
“Should I start breaking his fingers?” asked the bald man.
The young gangster glowered at his henchman as if he had never been so offended in his life. “No, we wait,” he snapped.
Sam hid his chuckle, he didn’t want to annoy the young man even further and risk provoking him into action. Right now, his captor was scared enough to wait, no doubt thinking if Sam was telling the truth, breaking his fingers would only make the situation worse. Pissing the gangster off and making him change his mind was a terrible idea.
So they waited. He knew the minutes would seem like hours in this situation, but still he felt the drag of time. Anxiety unfurled within him, threatening to bring him out in a cold sweat. Tally was going to come, wasn’t he?
An image flashed of him taking the bin out in a stupid strop, feeling Tally’s eyes on him. Tally had known he was upset, what if he thought Sam had just gone off in a huff? What if he was putting Sam’s absence down to Sam being a jealous jerk who didn’t like seeing his boyfriend dance for other men?
Sam swallowed. It was an awful thought. He couldn’t tell if he was more upset that Tally would think so poorly of him, or that it would result in getting all his fingers broken. It was a close call.
He tried to reassure himself. Tally knew he supported his dancing, hell he had paid for the lessons. But people were fickle, and it wasn’t too unreasonable to think he had changed his mind when seeing the actual results, because he had. Just not in the way Tally might think. He wasn’t jealous, just worried he had pushed Tally into it.
A door slammed, and Sam looked up hopefully. Sure enough, Tally came running into view. He had swapped the heels for his battered trainers but was otherwise still wearing his dancing costume of tight teal shorts and corset. His pink hair was all messy, and he looked out of breath. He grinned when he saw Sam and stopped a few feet away, placing his hands on his hips.
“There you are!” said Tally brightly. “I’m sorry I took so long.”
Sam merely grinned and nodded.
“Untie him and give him back,” ordered Tally imperiously.
The bald man laughed, but his boss looked worried.
“Last chance,” warned Tally.
The silence was deafening. Tally sighed and then put his fingers in his mouth and let out a loud, high-pitched whistle. Immediately, ominous growls sounded from every corner. The gangsters flinched and looked around nervously. Several whipped out guns.
Tally shook his head in disapproval, “Put those away, Hellhounds are made of shadow, you will only end up shooting each other.”
Sam watched in glee as the shadows in every corner of the warehouse twisted and morphed into huge hellhounds. He counted six. Growling, they all stepped forward.
The gangsters pointed shaking guns at the beasts. “Put your guns away, you idiots!” hissed the boss, and Sam was glad the man had intelligence. It was also a measure of his authority that, as scared as they were, they all immediately obeyed him.
“Jinx, untie Sam and bring him to me,” said Tally.
