“Duty calls,” Gideon said as he and Garret got up as well.
“That's . . . that's a ghost alarm?” I asked.
“Hades is summoning us,” Garret said. “We'll be back in a few. Just relax. It's probably just a regular escaped soul.”
“A regular escaped soul,” I murmured as I watched them jog up the stairs. “Regular as opposed to Michael. Holy shit. They really are telling the truth.” Then I shook my head. “No.Just because an alarm went off and they're being summoned, it doesn't mean that they're who they say they are.”
I sighed and leaned back against the couch. I was trying to be as unbiased about this as possible, but I knew I was looking for reasons to believe the hounds. They were just so incredible—every woman's dream guy times three. Their actions demonstrated genuine warmth and affection. After getting over my initial reservations about being taken care of, I realized how wonderful it was. Even as a child, I hadn't felt this well-looked-after. This secure. Nothing felt like mine when I was little. I realized early on that everything given could be just as easily taken away. Clothes, food, a home—all of it was transitory. Now, it felt as if I was getting a proper childhood. Just as I thought, that birthday party had been for more than them. It had been a fresh start for me too. The birth of a new life.
Yes, there were adult issues at work that complicated things and might have influenced me. We were attracted to each other, and I was still learning about the implications of being with them. If I was even their mate. But because nothing was certain about our relationship, nothing sexual had happened between me and any of them. Nothing beyond light touching and hugs. So, it was still innocent.
That being said, the unsettled state of things ruined my feeling of security a little. But not a lot. Being with them made me realize I could move on from Jake. Even if I wasn't their mate—and let's face it, I probably wasn't—I felt strong enough to love again. And I'd make sure he was a normal man. No ghosts, no gods, and no Hounds of Hades.
“We'll be back soon,” Garret called as the hounds raced down the stairs and out the front door.
“Just a soul retrieval,” Gage added. “Don't go anywhere, Indie, okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
Seconds later, I heard an engine turn over. I got up and went to the front window to see the hounds drive off in Garret's pickup truck. I stayed like that, just staring out the window like a forlorn puppy for a while. And then it occurred to me that I was alone. In their house.
It was the perfect time to go snooping.
Normally, I was not a snooper. If you went looking, you'd find something—usually something terrible. And people deserve to have secrets, even from significant others. But I wasn't the hounds' mate, might never be, and I needed to know their secrets. I needed to know especially if I was their mate.
So, I left the living room and went upstairs. I knew where I wanted to begin my search.
The hounds shared an office on the second floor. They didn't keep it locked, but they had never invited me in either. With us spending most of our time together, they didn't need to lock anything. Either they'd forgotten to lock the office before leaving or they trusted me. The latter gave me a twinge of guilt. But not enough to stop me.
I opened the door and paused on the threshold, waiting for an alarm to sound. Nothing came. Or maybe it was silent. Maybe they'd already received a notification of the breach.
“Oh, well. Damage done.” I stepped inside and flipped the light switch.
A line of overhead fixtures came on—frosted glass softening the light. The room below didn't go with the antique lighting. A very modern, very long desk supported a row of monitors with three keyboards placed before them. A container of pens, scissors, and the like stood off to one side, but nothing else cluttered the desk. Three leather executive chairs sat behind the desk. In front of it were three more chairs gathered around a circular table. It looked as if their mate wasn't to be included here. To the side of the table was one of those dry-erase boards you see in television cop shows.
I went right to the board, shaking my head at the ease of this. I didn't even have to root around in drawers—they had it all on display for me. Photographs of Silas, Jake, and me dominated the board. My jaw fell when I saw one of Jake and me in my car, my expression strained while I hunched in the passenger seat. I was pretty sure that had been the day we arrived. Then there were more of Jake with members of the Host. Some were on the street, some inside, but all showed Jake with a kind expression on his face that I instantly saw through. Either Michael had been in control, or Jake had known he was leading those people into a horrible situation. There was a brittleness around his eyes that screamed “liar.”
“Jake,” I whispered. I felt awful about leaving him behind. But what else could I have done? He was housing the entity that attacked me. Until Michael was gone, I couldn't be with Jake. “Oh, who am I kidding? I'll never be with him again. It's over.”
Saying those words aloud was anticlimactic. I'd been prepared to lose Jake for a long time, and I think I decided the moment he got aggressive with me that it was over. It wasn't even Michael. It was Jake. The way he had grabbed me and triedto “convince” me to have sex with him. Would he have raped me? Absolutely not. But I'd seen a part of Jake that I didn't know existed. And I did not like it.
I wasn't a woman into violent men or even forceful men. I liked kindness. I appreciated men who appreciated others. Especially with men like the hounds, it was attractive. Their power was immense, but they wielded it with restraint and consideration. They never made me feel weak, even when they were taking care of me.
“At least, they haven't so far,” I murmured as I moved on to look over the blueprints for Silas's log palace. “Damn. They're thorough.”
Besides the blueprints, there were shots of the neighborhood and sticky notes all over to label things. Nothing contradicted what they told me. But nothing corroborated it, either. They were watching Silas and the Host, just as they said, but that didn't mean they weren't demons. I turned away from the board and scowled at the desk. I'd have to do some digging after all.
I looked through the drawers and found your standard office stuff—notepads, packs of pens, and a stapler. Nothing unusual. Then I sat down and pulled open one of the deeper drawers. I found some hanging files, but all they had in them were maps of Montana and some paperwork for the house. Oh, and an account book. I nearly shrieked when I saw how much money they had in the bank. I would never protest them paying for something again.
“What's this?” I had brushed against something when I put the bank book back. I moved things aside to see a button. “How very James Bond.” I pushed the button.
A whirring came from behind me. I spun in my chair just in time to see a wall panel slide over. Again, my jaw fell. Deeper this time. I just sat and stared for a few moments. Then I picked up my jaw and stood up.
“James Bond has nothing on you three,” I murmured as I peered at the weapons that hung in the recessed space.
On a white pegboard, guns hung on specialty hooks, but there were also swords and things I didn't recognize. Medieval things. Or maybe older than that. Shit, maybe they weren’t even Earth-made.
My hand hovered over a strange, bladed weapon with a chain attached. “Did you come from the Underworld?”
