Page 2 of The Hellhound's Mate
What the hell was I seeing?
Just as the person took a sharp turn to avoid running into the windows, something large and black slammed into them. Fangs and teeth tore at the person’s legs, screams rising up from them as their body turned to ash in the creature’s mouth. What hadn’t solidified seemed to become mist and float away, back the way they’d come. In just a few snaps of terrible jaws, the beast had destroyed that ghost-like person.
A beast like those on the front doors.
Pitch black from snout to tail, it looked like a wolf that had mutated into somethingmore. Entirely too many pointed teeth filled a square jaw, and a long blood-red tongue swept out to lick over thin lips. The inside of its mouth was the deep orange of a flame, and I couldn’t help thinking there might be a furnace within the beast since its chest glowed and flickered like there was a fire inside it, beneath the midnight fur. It sniffed the air for a moment, big ears swiveling, before it suddenly stood up on its hind legs and…walked away.
Metal creaked alarmingly before it sounded like a heavy door slammed shut.
I was panting as I eased back from the window, my back feeling sweaty, and the hairs all over my body standing at attention. What had I just witnessed? Had a demonic wolf just eaten a ghost? No. I scoffed at the very notion. But…I had seen…something. Something that had looked an awful lot like a beast with fire inside it devouring a spirit.
A spirit that had been trying to escape?
My attention fixed on the one gravestone I could see clearly, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if the cemetery’s inhabitants were unhappy with their accommodations, while their warden was determined to keep them interred.
“So what do you think, Ambrose?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin as I spun around to see Jenny returning. She flinched, too, and apologized profusely forstartling me. I waved it away, my other hand over my pounding heart.
And then I went and said the single most insane thing I’d ever uttered in my life… “Do whatever it takes for me to buy this house.”
I knew there were humans in the mansion, but I wasn’t about to stop doing my job as the only hellhound on the property and let a soul escape Hell. I was sure no one had been at the back of the house to witness my kill. Like, eighty percent sure. Maybe seventy. Usually, when a human spotted me, they screamed. So maybe I was ninety percent certain I hadn’t been seen since the only screaming had come from the damned.
I lapped up water from the rain-filled planter at the mouth of the mausoleum. It quenched my thirst and temporarily extinguished the fire inside me that let me do my job of returning the damned to Hell. When it blazed back to life within me, I knew I wasn’t done yet. The gate beneath the cemetery was old and the number of souls consigned to Hell grew every day, so I was still needed.
But it would’ve been nice if I could’ve gone on living in the house.
Dodge had known about me for decades and, though he’d treated me like a pet most of the time, he’d been kind to me. I had been given a room in the basement, access to the library, and truly excellent food. But Dodge had never married, never produced an heir, and the secrets of the property had gone to thegrave with him. Because of that, whoever had inherited hadn’t even bothered to visit before putting the place up for sale.
And I was back to living in the mausoleum on the edge of the cemetery again.
I walked inside and collapsed onto the unforgiving granite floor with a heavy sigh. I should be grateful that I’d gotten to live almost like a person for as long as I had but… Hunting for game took me farther and farther from the center of the property where the gate was—and I would soon reach the boundary that contained me. I was becoming nocturnal again. And I hadn’t had a good sleep for over a month now.
Rolling onto my back, I tried to stretch out and relax but with a free-standing crypt in the middle of the room, there wasn’t much space for me. Maybe the new owner wouldn’t notice me. Some never did, to the point that I could stand right in front of them and they’d see nothing. Others, like Dodge, had made me the moment I stepped into view and had even claimed to have heard the gate open and close just like I could hear.
Actually, I wasn’t sure which version I’d prefer.
Part of me wanted to be left alone to do my duty and nothing more. The rest of me knew of the comforts inside the house, the companionship I’d lost, and wanted that back. Dodge hadn’t been the best of souls, but he’d been good enough. The new owner might be better… Or worse.
I had been enslaved once. A necromancer could do that to me with just a few words, and then use me to take lives. I’d slaughtered entire villages of people long ago. Surviving that had earned me the reward of becoming a simple gate guardian on an entirely different continent. So maybe it would be better if I didn’t risk my luck on the new owner at all. Just hide away from them and never peek.
I got back to my feet and shook myself. Since not a bit of the souls I devoured fed me, I was hungry. Despite being wearyall the way down to my bones, I trotted from the mausoleum in search of something to hunt.
CHAPTER
TWO
I was a homeowner.I’d owned property before, but now that I had a real house with a yard and a garage—and a cemetery—I felt like I might’ve achieved something on a new level. I was domesticated. Could it be that I felt like an actual adult?
Chuckling to myself, I shoved my easel a little more to the right. The rest of the house was fine as it was, but the conservatory-turned-studio was where I would be spending most of my time. The upgrade from a corner of my old loft to a twenty-by-twenty space with natural light had me running around doing my best to spread out and fill up the space with all the toys I hadn’t had room for until now. I might try sculpture. I might learn photography. The possibilities were endless!
And while I set up my workspaces, I’d also heard that creaking and slamming gate twice more. No sign of the great black beast either time, but I had heard a scream or two. My theory of escaping souls had brought me to learning about the various creatures that guarded the afterlife. Hellhounds sounded like what I had seen, and I was desperate to witness one again. I’d set up cameras all around the property but hadn’t caught any evidence yet.
Still, it was thrilling to have actual proof of a paranormal world operating in the shadows of reality. The very thought of something dangerous lurking just out of sight had inspired me to begin my new collection. My excitement grew with every sketch I made.
And beastly creatures kept popping up in my work, too.
As I carried in more canvases to fill new shelves, I walked past the planters and realized they were freshly watered. The dirt was definitely saturated. I hadn’t done that. Had the caretaker been in? I’d tried calling the number Jenny had for Mister Sable, but it had rung the fancy rotary dial phone in the foyer. Maybe I should leave a note amongst the plants for the man to reach out? I wouldn’t be against communicating by sticky note if that was all Sable could handle.
