Betrayals
Page 55

“But if it’s the Huntsmen …” I whispered. The tusk was from the Cn Annwn, to protect us against everything else.
“It’s … wrong,” he said, still searching the street and the surrounding buildings.
“Not Cn Annwn?”
“I … I don’t know. It’s just wrong.” He rolled his shoulders. “Sorry. I’m—”
“No, stay with that.” I tugged his own tusk from his pocket and pressed it into his hand. “Follow your gut. Always.”
He nodded, started the bike, and rolled it slowly down the street. I kept my helmet off and continued searching the shadows. He stopped a few doors from the drop-in center, turned into a gap between the buildings, and killed the engine.
I hopped from the bike while he kept it steady. Helmet off, he scanned the street. Then he nodded, as if satisfied that whatever he’d sensed was gone. There was no one in sight. No one even peeked out from behind a window blind at the very distinct sound of a Harley rolling along their street.
We were about to cross the road when I noticed that flicker again, dark movement in the shadows. This time, I spotted a large shape hunkered down behind a parked car. I tapped Ricky’s elbow, but he was already turning that way.
As I reached for my gun, his hand closed on mine, and he shook his head. He took a slow step toward the shadow. It moved, and the moonlight glinted off dark red eyes.
“A hound?” I whispered.
That couldn’t be right. Hounds didn’t cower. As Ricky walked toward the car, the dark shape shrunk back, and I thought for sure he was mistaken.
I tucked the tusk into my pocket and palmed my switchblade instead. Ricky didn’t seem to hear me even as I jogged up, gravel crunching. But then he lifted his fingers, holding me back as he continued until we were close enough to see black fur.
The beast lay flattened against the pavement, as if thinking itself safely hidden there. I lifted my switchblade and flicked on the penlight.
It was definitely a hound. And yet not like any hound I’d seen. Its fur was matted. One eye was glazed white. One ear a stump. A leg crooked, as if broken and not allowed to heal properly. The worst, though, was the look in its eyes: absolute terror.
“No,” Ricky whispered. “How …? Who …?” He dropped to one knee on the sidewalk and lowered his hand to the ground. “Come here.”
The hound backed up.
“It’s all right,” he said.
The hound stopped. It lifted its eyes to Ricky, and the hope in them was heartbreaking to see.
“Who would do this?” Ricky whispered. “Who would dare …?” He shook his head and crooned, “Come here. It’s all right.”
I turned off the penlight. The hound started at the click but then crept forward, still belly to the ground, gaze fixed on Ricky’s face.
“That’s it,” Ricky said. “Come on.”
The hound crawled closer, good ear pricking forward. Then a car skidded around the corner, tires squealing, music blaring, and the hound wheeled and took off running.
“No!” Ricky shouted. “Come back—”
He ran a few loping paces after the beast, but it disappeared down a side road.
“Fuck,” he said, shooting a glower at the car as it sped past. “What the hell happened to that hound? Who would do that?”
Rage pulsed from him, his eyes glowing with it. Rage and indignation, that one of his hounds could be so mistreated. Yes, his hounds. Arawn’s hounds. That’s what he felt—the fury of Arawn for his beasts.
“Go after it,” I said. “It was coming to you. It knows you.”
He shook off the idea. “No, it was just—”
“It knows you, Ricky,” I said. “At the very least, it recognizes your blood. Go after it, and I’ll take care of this.”
“You got a mysterious call in the middle of the night,” he said, already crossing the road, headed for the drop-in center. “From a freaked-out girl. Remember what happened the last time?”
“She’s not a girl.”
“Yep, which only makes her more dangerous. The hound can wait. I’ll talk to Ioan. See how the hell something like that can happen.”
He was pissed off enough that he nearly strode through the front door. It was only when I caught the back of his Saints jacket that he halted.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Sorry. Have you got—?”
“Gun out, switchblade and tusk in pocket.”
He nodded and took out his blade.
“We should circle the building,” I said as he reached for the knob. “See if the lamia is around.”
“Right. Sorry. Distracted.”
“I know, so fall in behind and watch my back.”
I added a “please,” but he was already moving behind me. We conducted a full circle of the building. There was no sign of Melanie or anyone else.
“Before we go in,” Ricky said, “text Gabriel, presuming you haven’t already.”
“I don’t want to bother him.”
“When he came after you the first time you were here, he texted me so someone knew where you both were. We should do the same.”
“I’ll leave a message at the office—”
“He didn’t ignore your cry for help when you were trapped, Liv. He ignored what he thought was just you trying to get in touch after your fight. He won’t do that again, either.”