Page 7 of Hellhound AU

Kevin was nodding his head and mumbling what seemed to be agreement with me.

Milo smacked him across the back of the head. “Shut the fuck up, asshole. When you beat your wife, you don’t get a say in how you’re punished.”

The guy looked pissed off at that, spitting and yelling unintelligible words behind the gag. He was looking at Milo, and I didn’t appreciate the anger in his eyes.

“Settle down, or I’ll make it so you can’t talk,” I growled.

“Ohhhh,” Milo said, clapping his hands. “We can cut out his tongue. That would be fun!”

I tilted my head in thought. “I mean, that’s just as bloody as ripping out fingernails, but maybe we could break all the bones in his hands? It sounds pretty awful, but there’s no blood. I mean, not as long as you make sure no bones poke through the skin.”

Milo was behind Kevin, and he winked at me for some reason. Kevin was looking at me like I’d just betrayed him.

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t rip out your fingernails because I feel sympathy for you. You beat your wife. You tried to attack Milo. You deserve to suffer.”

“Aww, boo, you really do care,” Milo interrupted.

I rolled my eyes and continued. “I just don’t like things to get bloody, but there are lots of ways to hurt you.”

Before I could say anything, Milo reached over, grabbed the guy’s pinkie finger, and bent it in a way it should not have bent. I heard the crack, Kevin screamed, and Milo cackled in glee.

He was so cute. For a human, he was vengeful and had no problem getting messy. It was really cute.

Milo only broke one other finger, then he did a lot of talking. I was fascinated, and I knew he would be fantastic at psychological torture. I think even my sisters would be impressed. He talked to Kevin about all sorts of shit—his parents, why he hit Marcy, his son, his anger, his inadequacy issues, being a bully… Kevin was a crying, blubbering mess not even two hours in, agreeing that he was a piece of shit for what he’d done.

Most impressive of all, I could sense actual regret from Kevin. Milo really had made him feel like a shitty human being.

I sniffed again, but Milo was all human. Maybe he was raised by a demon? He was just so damn good at chaos.

Kevin was barely aware of his surroundings, still crying and blubbering, when Milo meandered over to me. “I think that’s pretty good, but I wish there was some way to guarantee things.He’s scared of us, and he feels bad now, but who knows if it’ll stick.”

I grunted. I could take care of that.

I walked over to Kevin, knelt in front of the chair, and put my hand on his shoulder. “Look at me, Kevin,” I commanded.

He lifted his head, and I let my eyes go all blazy with hellhound fire. Kevin whimpered.

“If you ever touch Marcy again, I will hunt you down. If you ever bother Milo, I will hunt you down. If you ever do anything to hurt your kid”—Kevin was shaking his head in denial—“I will hunt you down. And you willsuffer.” On the last word, I let some of my hellfire burn through my hand and into his shoulder. He screamed in agony, whimpering and blubbering. I smelled urine; he’d wet himself.

I stood up, sighing, then I looked over at Milo. He looked suitably impressed, and also a little adoring. I might have proudly puffed out my chest a bit.

“Do we need to clean this up?” I asked, motioning towards the mess on the floor beneath the chair. “I don’t want Marcy to have to do it.”

“Nah,” Milo answered. “We’re gonna grab some of Marcy and Aaron’s stuff, and Kevin here can clean up his own fucking mess. After all, he made it.”

I grunted in agreement, then followed Milo down the hall to help pack up a woman and her kid. All in all, it was a pretty good day. Cultists dealt with, abusive husband threatened, and I’d gotten to spend time with this cute chaos demon of a human.

I wondered how I could do it again tomorrow.

4

Author’s Note:

So, did you know “bsf” stands for best friend? I always thought that was “bff” but I’ve been told that it’s not, and that “bf” means boyfriend, so “bsf” means best friend. Apparently I’m old, since I’m officially behind on the lingo of the current generation. You know, if you live forever, I bet it’s super hard to stay up on all theslang. I’m amazed that immortals aren’t going around saying stuff from the 1800s by accident. Or, maybe they are. If you meet someone who uses old slang, I’m just saying—be cautious. They could be a hellhound or a demon. Or a vampire. (I’ve been informed that vampires aren’t real, but I think they’re just that good at hiding. Like ghosts.)

Also, is calling someone a “ginger” offensive? Because I want to have Milo call Rowan his sexy ginger, but I don’t want to offend redheads, because, newsflash, redheads aretotallysexy. I love red hair. If I weren’t madly in love with my man, I’d find myself a redhead for sure. So, redheads everywhere, I love you, and know that I use ginger in only the most positive and sexy way possible.

And OMG I think I should write a story about a redheaded vampire. But, that’s enough squirrel brain—here’s Milo.