Orthus watched me from three feet away, florescent light glinting off disturbingly pointed teeth rising from black gums. Seeing him so close up, I was struck again by howun-doglikethe hellhound seemed, in spite of clearly canine features. Something in his stance, something about the way he held himself, spoke of death and despair, rather than walks in the park, wagging tails, or anything else inherently pet-like. He didn’t cock his head at me in that adorably inquisitive way some dogs do. He didn’t pant with his tongue hanging from one side of his mouth. And he certainly didn’t scratch behind one ear with his hind foot. Though we’d just met, I was certain Orthus would never stoop to something so undignified and cute. Hell, he was probably scary even as a puppy. Assuming he’d ever been a puppy.
“Hey, Orthus.” I’d decided to keep it casual. So long as he showed no sign of aggression, neither would I.
The hellhound bobbed his head in greeting, and as light shifted on his coat, the color seemed to ripple from black to dark red, then back again. No wonder Lacey was spooked. What would he do if he ever saw the beast sans fur?
“How did you get here?” I asked, passing Orthus on the way to the back of the car. It went against my instincts to turn my back on the dog, but I did it anyway, to show him I wasn’t afraid. And that I trusted him—sort of—after he’d had my back last night. “Did you come to see me?” I asked, peering around Rusty’s now-open trunk to watch for his reply.
The dog nodded, and I could no longer pretend that was just coincidence. He’d understood my question and had answered to the best of his ability. Just as he’d done the night before.
I dropped my duffle and gun box into the trunk next to my travel bag and slammed the trunk closed. “Are you here in a professional capacity?” I couldn’t bring myself to actually ask the hellhound if he’d come to deliver me to hell for eternal torture. Things like that don’t just roll off the tongue.
Orthus shook his head as I stopped at his side, and I breathed easier, surprised to realize how nervous I’d really been about that part.
The dog’s gaze shifted to look over my shoulder. He growled, and the sound rumbled across my skin, reverberating inside my head, like my own private echo. My left hand flew to my temple. “Stop that! You’re making my brain itch.”
Orthus bit his growl off in a sharp yip of reproach. Then his gaze slid back to whatever was behind me. I turned to find Lacey standing frozen on the sidewalk, staring in terror at my second uninvited guest of the day.
“That’s Aaron Lacey,” I told Orthus. “He’s my friend and employee, and you’re scaring the piss out of him. Lay off, or I’ll take you right back to that warehouse for a reunion with the goblins.”
I would do no such thing, of course. I wouldn’t go near the Three Stooges again without the promise of another paycheck. But he seemed to respond best when I let him know he didn’t scare me. Even when he did.
“Got it?” I demanded, frowning down at him with my best I-mean-business face.
He huffed, then blinked at me, and I wasn’t sure whether I’d just been mollified or flipped off in doggy-speak. Either way, that was clearly all I was gonna get.
“Lacey, get your ass in the car.”
Lacey glared at me. Then he puffed out his chest, squared his shoulders, and raised his chin as he swaggered onto the sidewalk, thin arms swinging. He looked downright intimidating—for an unarmed, four foot eleven, ninety-six-pound man-boy.
He strutted his way across the sidewalk, pausing at Orthus’s side just long enough to bob his head in greeting and mumble a faux-confident, “’S’up,” to the clearly confounded hellhound. Then he continued to Rusty’s passenger side without giving either of us so much as a second glance.
“Okay, go on home now,” I told Orthus, as Lacey slid into my passenger seat. “Wherever home is now.” The dog just stared at me, and I shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourself, but I have to go.”
I locked the office door, then slid into the driver’s seat next to Lacey. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I glanced in the rearview mirror to find Orthus still watching us, red eyes gleaming in the dark.
On the way to the airport, I told Lacey all about Cari and Cale Murphy, the goblins, and my new canine acquaintance. By the time we pulled into short-term parking, he was staring at me in a mixture of pride and exasperation. “What good does it do for me to maintain your weapons, if you’re going to leave them in the car when you need them most?”
“I’d never have gotten in with the Ruger. Sometimes a girl has to use her brain instead of her gun.” Though breasts come in handy too.
And no, that wasnotme being a hypocrite. Lori used sex appeal against Aaron Lacey so she could suck him dry, whereasI’dused it against three armed bad guys who’d kidnapped an innocent child.Totallydifferent.
“Don’t worry.” I snuck a sidelong peek at Lacey. “My guns are all packed and ready to go.” Devich hadn’t given me much to work with, and I had no idea what I’d be facing. In a case like that, my chances of success—and of survival—were directly proportionate to the number of weapons I carried. I’d learned that long ago.
“Got the paperwork?”
I turned Rusty into an empty space half-way across the lot from the nearest entrance and shifted into park. “Always.” I patted my inner coat pocket. “Thanks for keeping it up-to-date.”
“No problem,” Lacey said, and I glanced at my watch in the dim yellow glow of the parking garage light shining through my windshield. “You gonna make it?”
“If I run.” I popped the trunk and turned off the engine, but by the time I made it out of the car, Lacey was already there, unloading my luggage. “Thanks.” I settled the strap of my travel bag over one shoulder and the duffle over the other. The gun box in my right hand left my other one free, just in case.
Weighed down by luggage, I turned to Lacey for a quick set of instructions—the same things we went over every time I left him in charge of the office. “You have your key?”
He dangled his overloaded zip drive keychain in front of my face.
“Okay, I don’t know how long this will take, so don’t accept any more jobs until you hear from me. I’ll check in sometime tomorrow and let you know how it’s going.”
I glanced at my watch again. My flight left in less than an hour, and it would take every bit of that to get through security and declare my weapons. I tugged my duffle strap higher on one shoulder. “Take care of Rusty for me,” I said, walking backward toward the entrance. “And pay the electric bill out of petty cash.”
