Page 41 of Hellhound AU

Rowan looked at me, raising his eyebrows before he looked back at the road.

I chuckled. “Yeah, they never publicized it; they were from a different generation, and if they held hands in public that was a huge declaration for them. At home they were open and affectionate with one another, and it only took my idiot adolescent brain a few months to figure out they were actually together.”

Rowan snorted. “What finally clued you in?”

“Okay, maybe I didn’t figure it out, and a friend who came over to visit casually asked how long my aunts had been together, at which point I’d finally started to wonder. But I never asked, and they never outright told me. I don’t know why I never asked if they were a couple.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Because you were respecting them and what they chose to share, and you knew they loved each other dearly. Whether they were sexually involved is irrelevant. Besides, wouldn't it be odd to ask your parental figures about their sex life?”

I laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re not wrong. And they never hid their love for each other from me. They just weren’t demonstrative in public. They shared a room, though. You think I would have known right away when Ethel moved in, but I wasa typical, self-centered teenager.” I looked over at Rowan's face. “She and the crew are all the family I have left, and she’s the glue that holds us together. For a long time after Aunt Anabelle’s death, she was… Well, we were both wrecks. It was so hard, but we leaned on each other. The crew at the retirement home really rallied around her, making sure she didn’t sink too far into depression, making sure she still had a reason to look forward to each day. Beatrice was a big part of that, and I know she cares about Betsy like the girl is her own. We have to find her.”

“We’ll do everything we can,” Rowan assured me again. “I know we’ll figure it out.”

I knew the unspoken part of what he wasn’t saying. We’d figure it out, but hopefully it wouldn’t be too late for Betsy by the time we did.

17

Author’s Note:

So, a lot of people have sent messages asking about the whole kidnapping thing. I think it barely counts, since I was only technically “kidnapped” for like an hour. I was just doing some research on neo-Nazis for this book, and apparently white supremacist gangs don’t like when you go poking into their business. But anyway, everyone is sufficiently dealtwith, and I’m fine. I didn’t even get tortured or anything. Not that I wanted to be tortured, but the threats and stuff were all a little tame, and they seemed a little confused when I kept giving them better suggestions for making me talk. (Which, according to the one guy, I apparently do too much of already.)

ROWAN

We went to the dorm first, which was supposed to be a secure building that you needed to swipe your card to get access to. It was easy enough to just walk in, though, because some college students held the door open for us as they were leaving. I wasn’t sure if it was a testament to how unaware humans were or to how safe they felt their college was. Perhaps a combination of both.

The dorm was co-ed, so two guys walking around didn’t cause any upset. We made our way to Betsy’s room first. No one answered our knocking, and we heard no noise from inside. The door was, predictably, locked. Milo made a sound of disapproval, but I just put my hand on the knob, forcing a little hellfire into the lock. Yes, it wouldn’t quite work correctly after this, but I figured finding Betsy was more important.

“Neat trick,” Milo said as the door opened, then he went in, pulling me in after him and shutting the door.

The room was… miniscule. “Is all college housing so small?” I asked.

Milo snorted. “The girl has a single; she isn’t rooming with someone. This is practically spacious by college dorm standards.”

We both started looking around. The room was neat, with some posters of artwork and some photographs hung on the walls. There were stars stuck on the ceiling that looked like they probably glowed in the dark, and it made me think of Betsy as younger than she was. The room was decorated, but the furniture was sparse. There was a dresser, a desk, which had books and a computer sitting neatly on it, and a bed, which was made.

Milo went over and started looking around the bed, in the dresser, and even in the garbage can. I walked around, scenting the air. It was almost impossible to distinguish individual people. Although Betsy lived alone, this room had not always been hers, and there were plenty of people who must have visited her. I didn’t pick up a hellborn rot in the air, but that didn’t mean much. After all, we weren’t sure exactly where or when Betsy even disappeared. She’d gone to at least one class yesterday, and she hadn’t been in class this morning, so it was obviously at some point in that time frame.

“Nothing around to give any clues,” Milo said. “No cell phone or purse sitting out, so she had those with her at some point.”

“I can’t smell anyone distinct, and there’s no stench of the truly evil, but that doesn’t mean much. Someone could still have kidnapped her.”

Milo raised his hand. “Hold on. Wait a minute. Are you saying someone could kidnap a sweet art student and not be evil? What the fuck kind of rule is that?”

I sighed. “Humans are… human.” I shrugged. “They make mistakes. They do bad things. Sometimes they do really badthings, but there are a lot of factors that go into making someone hellbound.”

“Such as?” Milo asked.

“Well, intent matters. If someone was coming to kidnap Betsy and torture her to death, they would be hellbound. Finding joy in the pain and misery of others is pretty irredeemable. But someone could kidnap her for ransom and have no intention of harming her, and then, no, they wouldn’t be hellbound. Morally gray and on their way, but it isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

“Her family doesn’t have money for ransom,” Milo told me.

“Well, a stalker would think that their motives for taking a person were good, especially if they didn’t mean to hurt them. Again—morally gray, but not hellbound.”

“What about bullies?”

I had to think about how to answer that question. I sighed. “Bullies are… more difficult. Children are almost never hellbound, and they’re often bullies. But they’re learning, and they’re still redeemable. Most bullies are redeemable. Usually they have to have other horrible traits or cross some very huge lines—like murdering the person they bullied—before they would become irredeemable.”

Milo looked thoughtful.