Page 48 of Hellhounds Never Lie

And there it was.

She darted toward the stairs. But if she was wearing that amulet, there was only one place she would have gotten it. She was working with the damn wolves and there was no way I was letting her escape.

I dropped down to one knee and grabbed the extension cord. I yanked it, hard. My side pulled awkwardly, but I ignored the odd flash of pain as Dot tripped over the cord and fell forward. The gun flew from her hand and skidded across the floor. I dove for her before she could get any further. Even as I tackled her to the ground, I expected her to shift and gallop away. Instead, her whole body went lax in defeat.

With trembling hands, I fished the handcuffs off her belt and used them to secure her hands behind her back. I probably put them on too tightly, but I wasn’t risking her getting away. As soon as she was taken care of, I flopped off her and scanned the room for other threats, but it looked like everything was finally under control.

None of the wolves were standing or even conscious. They weren’t moving, so maybe they weren’t even alive. Dillon and Van were going from person to person, sniffing at them. I gagged at the thought of purposely filling my nose with the stench of burned flesh.

Van’s wish that no one be killed had obviously been overly optimistic.

An unexpected coldness swept over me as I eyed the carnage. I shivered. I was used to being cold but not like this.

But Dillon was alive and so was Van; that was all that mattered. Dot wiggled into a sitting position on the cold concrete floor, and I did the same. My arms were shaking something fierce, and my side was really starting to hurt now. Damn it. It looked like I was in shock or whatever. I’d be okay, though. I just needed a cookie, some juice, and a snuggle with my sexy hellhound under a warm blanket.

Van swung around to face us. His hellhound form faded away in a flash, but the fire of his beast danced in his eyes as he glowered at his deputy. He spit out a gob of blood and flesh, then wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. Bile shot up the back of my throat at the sight and I barely kept my supper down.

Dillon didn't change back to his human form. Instead, he edged closer to Dot, growling menacingly. Blood-soaked saliva dripped from his long sharp teeth as he pushed his face right up to hers. Dot quaked. Dillon didn't scare me, not even a little bit, but I could see where someone—particularly if they were on the wrong end of his anger—might find my boo scary as fuck.

The idea of it made me snort. I barely kept my wildly inappropriate laughter to myself. Why was I so giddy and lightheaded? It had to be the shock, right?

But now that I was thinking about it, I figured hellhounds had probably inspired more than a few nightmarish horror movies. Silly humans, couldn’t they see how pretty they were?

Especially Dillon. So pretty.

Wispy flames undulated along his fur, his fangs, and his claws. And the heat. So good. It poured off him. I shivered again. I hugged my arms over my chest and tried to warm myself. Stupid shock. Traumatic events sucked. I’d had more than enough of them in my life. It was time for them to stop.

Dillon stepped back from Dot to allow Van to approach his deputy.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Van demanded. Smoke curled from his mouth.

Dot cowered.

"Dot," he barked. “Answer me.”

"My sister. They have my sister." Tears streamed down her face. "They only wanted things. What were things compared to my sister? She’s ten. A little kid. She doesn’t deserve this."

"Fuck," Van muttered.

Static blasted out from the radio on Van’s belt, which had somehow survived his transformation. Could all shifters do that? As much as I understood magic, shifter magic was in a league of its own.

Whatever the other person was trying to say, the message wasn't coming through. Let’s face it, the basement probably wasn’t the best place to get good reception. Van grabbed Dot and roughly hauled her to her feet, dragging her behind him as he went up the steps.

"Guard the fucking tunnel that no one fucking told me about," Van shouted over his shoulder. "I'll be right back. I need to tell Hayden to look for the girl."

Dillon, still in his hellhound form, stepped closer to me and whimpered. “Are you okay, little witch?”

"’M fine…” I slurred. I pushed myself onto my knees and peered at Dillon, trying to assess his body for injuries. "Are you hurt?"

“Ash… Something doesn’t smell right. Are you…?” Dillon edged a little closer and lifted his head to sniff me. Remembering Dillon's warning about how badly I’d be burned if I touched his flames, I resisted the urge to reach for him, even if that’s all I wanted to do. I wanted to curl up with my big, beautiful hellhound and sleep for the next seventy-two hours. At least.

So sleepy.

My eyes kept closing.

Damn it.

We had to find that girl. Then we needed to get our party started. We’d stopped the wolves. And I had a round of drinks to buy to celebrate getting my magic back. So many plans. Plans that did not involve sleeping. Sleep needed to wait. At least until after I’d had my way with my hellhound again. I moved to get up.