Page 13 of Wayward Daughter

And every monster in that house just realized there were three of them standing on neutral ground out front.

Iwas still trying to figure out how to deal with that house when we got noticed because these fuckwits couldn’t monster hunt in regular clothes. Everyone in that house had different weaknesses and had to be dealt with in different ways. We were also vastly outnumbered.

We didn’t have to worry about the vampires because the sun was still out, but the werewolves, witches, and demons were a problem. I wasn’t opposed to the burn it with fire approach and committing a little arson, but those demons were riding a human and if I could save them, I would.

These groups, in and of themselves, weren’t evil. I was friends with plenty of them and didn’t go after them unless they gave me a reason to. There were plenty of them I could have texted to come help because they knew if one of their kind exposed them to humans, they would be hunted by more than just us and the Church.

A bunch of them would have even fought beside the three stooges to show them they weren’t agents of Satan. If course, we couldn’t do that because wolves were spilling out of the house and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. The witches had put up a protection spell.

I could get it down, but I’d have to get close, and the wolves were prowling. I had my gun with the silver bullet, since silver was an allergy for plenty of supernaturals, but someone was definitely calling the cops if I fired a gun in this neighborhood and I couldn’t try to say it was just fireworks.

Werewolves weren’t actually allergic to silver. They had no known weaknesses like that. That was a movie invention. You just had to shoot them and cause enough damage that their speed healing couldn’t fix it.

And the priests thought they needed to do some chanting mumbo jumbo with holy water to get them to change back before they could deal with them. Holy water just got a werewolf wet because being a werewolf was a virus transferred by bite. It had nothing to do with God or the devil.

They were going to stand there hollering at charging werewolves while we all got mauled.

“Pan!” I yelled.

Not many people could sense Pan was a Hellhound, but shifters could. None of them wanted to fuck with that and Pan seemed to hate every shifter that hit on me. There had been several shifters I wouldn’t have minded being thrown around for a bit, but I never got to explore that because once they realized my dog wasn’t really a dog and Pan showed his teeth, they stayed as far away from me as possible.

Pan reveled in getting to beat up shifters and who was I to tell him he couldn’t play? Saul broke rank with the chanting and tried to catch Pan when he took off to meet the werewolves. Yeah, it should hit me in the feels he was willing to fight a werewolf to save my dog, but Pan could not only handle this, he adored doing this.

I started chasing Saul because if a werewolf decided to go around Pan, it could kill him. I was smaller and faster, so I caught up to him. I jumped on his back, trying to tackle him. This priest was a fucking beast. I was five foot ten and one hundred and sixty pounds of muscle.

He didn’t go down. He didn’t even slow down. I was now riding the back of a massive priest towards three werewolves. The wolves hadn’t noticed Pan wasn’t a dog yet and sometimes, even when they did, a few thought they could take him. Those brawls tended to get violent.

“Stop, you menace! Pan can handle this.”

Saul just grunted and kept going. He was officially out of the running as my favorite priest, since I didn’t know many. He was going to get us all killed.

“Pan is a Hellhound,” I hissed in his ear. “Three werewolves is child’s play to him.”

I tried to say it where his coworkers couldn’t hear me. Saul seemed like the most open-minded and he’d snuggled with Pan in the bar. I just had to hope he would keep it a secret. If not, I’d let Pan eat them.

Saul screeched to a halt, but the werewolves didn’t. Idiots. I guess they thought because there were three of them and Pan hadn’t shifted into his hound, they could take him. He’d been practicing for his protection. Pan could shift his claws and canine so he could fight and no one knew better.

Telling Saul that Pan was a Hellhound seemed to have gotten through to him. I hadn’t let go because I wanted to make completely certain he wasn’t going to try to get involved in that fight. He reached behind him, hooked my legs, and gave me a piggyback ride back to his friends.

“Unhand the Jezebel,” Caleb growled.

“This Jezebel and her dog just saved your lives. While my dog handles the werewolf problem, we need to come up with a plan for the witches, vampires, and demons. I’d say burn it with fire while they have the protection spell up, but some of the people in there are human.”

Solomon cleared his throat. He’d never said two words to me on all the jobs we ended up on together.

“I didn’t have much time to gather intel before we were ordered to leave. Saul told me what you said about your methods being easier on the humans. I want to save them too. When the police shot them and they didn’t stop, they started taking head shots. None of the humans are still alive.”

“Oh, shit. Well, then I guess we are doing some arson.”

“We can’t just burn that house down!” Caleb said.

“The sun is going down. When it’s gone, the vampires will be next. They probably won’t kill us. They are going to drag us inside. We’ll either be a snack bar, new vampires, or they will keep us until more of their friends break out and we’ll be possessed. You do you. If you don’t want to commit a felony, you can bounce.”

One of the witches opened the door. Pan was the only one who could get to her beyond the protection spell, but he was finishing up with the last werewolf. She looked terrible. Witches could get addicted to bad magic like drugs and it took a toll on them. Magic always came with a price.

“The Yellow King will rise and have you, girlie!” she shrieked, flinging a hex at Solomon.

I tackled him and he went down much easier than Saul did. The hex hit a bush that shriveled up and died. I wasn’t debating this anymore. I always had supplies for arson.