Page 28 of Hound

My lips pressed against each other. “Thank you, Sonia.” With one more bow, she left, leaving me alone with my screaming thoughts.

Do I go to Christopher? He was still my employer, and as a guardian, rules had to be followed. Never had I broken them before—except for Lace.

But fuck that. I wasn’t going to run to Christopher like a fucking dog. If he needed to talk to me, he could find me. But that had to wait. Something else needed answers. Tonight.

Leaves crunched beneath my steady footing as I followed the passing wind, cold air brushing the short hair on my scalp. I’d never gone longer than two weeks without shaving. But thinking about everything that’s happened in less than a month, it slipped my mind.

That needs to be fixed. After.

Adrenaline coursed through my veins as my legs pumped faster, each push blurring my surroundings. Trees parted the deeper I ran into the crisp night, rich woodsy scents mixing with the damp air. Running was the only release the beast and me could fully surrender. A freedom that sharpened all of our senses yet numbed our thoughts until I could only hear my pounding heartbeat.

Our relationship had always been complicated. Confining. I reigned the chains around his neck, but on nights he came out, my hold thinned. But running was the compromise that didn’t gamble it.

My lungs strained. The beast hovered over my skin and darted forward. Further. Faster. Until the parlor came into view. With heavy breaths, I pulled Mallory’s note from my pocket, his signature taunting me. But Sophia’s written words diminished them as pieces slowly came together.

A vampire-born hybrid led the Forgotten Wave. Mallory was a vampire, but he was ostracized by his kind. Could it have been because he turned into a hybrid?

Search the painting and find his whereabouts.

Vampires pranced around the entrance, forcing my body to turn onto a side wall where trees concealed me. Fire lined my cuticles, claws emerging as flesh colored nails blended into my skin. I pounced onto the stone wall, and when I reached the fourth floor, I tugged at the window. Surprisingly, it was open, but why wouldn’t it be when these vampires didn’t have an ounce of regard for their safety?

A familiar painting came into view next to the window. That was number four. So where was five? My nostrils flared as I tracked the air, Mallory’s scent leading me down the hall and into the opposite den, a single painting decorating the dark empty space.

It was creepy as fuck. Reds and browns fused into an animal—if it’s supposed to be one—the mangled form contouring with exposed teeth as it devoured a body.

And the corner of the painting, there it was.194.5.

The beast's whispers grew louder, an instinct seizing my fingers as I stepped forward and ripped the horrifying painting apart. A piece of paper fell on the floor.

Hairs stood on my arms and a tingle pulled my attention to the side. A body thudded onto the floor. The stranger’s round face missed the carpet by a hair, the flush in his sepia skin deepening as he tried to stand. Short, dark hair swayed as he tried to find his balance.

He was the bartender from the first time I visited Le Maudit. Unlike that night where he was collected and proper like a vampire, right now, he was a mess as he tried to unsteadily walk toward me.

He audibly gagged into his fist. Gross. “Didn’t think this liquor could do this much. Sorry, buddy. Didn’t mean to scare ya,” he said, his words slurring.

Suddenly, my body froze, anger boiling my skin and seeping into my words. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Didn’t mean to piss on ya.” His head lolled to the side, his gaze widening. Slate-gray eyes fell on me as recognition glazedover. “I remember. You’re from that night, yeah? What’s ya name? Mine is Ian.”

“None of your business.” I pushed forward, my legs stiff as the word echoed in a different tone. Why did it soundtoofamiliar? Memories blurred in my mind, figures clashing, and as I pushed through the fog, a headache pulsed.

Before I could pass him, a forceful hand met my chest, stopping me in my tracks. The man’s shoulder met mine as he turned his head to me. Those blank eyes suddenly sharpened. “I thought you’d play nice after finding ya mate.”

“I’ll show you a fucking mate?—”

Everything blurred as his hands wrapped around my shoulders and hurled me through a window. Glass pierced my skin and floated all around until my back tumbled onto hard ground. Pain exploded and seeped into my bones, muscles instantly throbbing.

“Fuck!” I bellowed into the frigid air. Every movement forced the sharp glass pieces deeper into my torso and hips as I tried to stand.

Feet pounded onto the gravel, the fucker straightening himself with ease. There was no trace of his lowered eyelids and stumbling body. He was tall and intense like the shadows hovering in my head.

“What do youwant?” I growled, the beast’s voice surfacing. Shit.

Ian pointed at the paper still in my grip. “That.”

“Over my dead fucking body.”

“Nothing’s stopping the Wave from crashing. Especially not that fox Syl. A changed mind won’t change the ripple.” Ian glanced up at me, amber gleaming in the silver pools of his eyes. “Then so be it.”

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