Page 47 of How to Hack a Hellhound
“Just hurrying to get home to my boyfriend,” I said. His face softened a bit at that. I wasn’t surprised he wasn’t a bigot—he smelled way too pure for that.
He looked down at my documents. “Liam Smith?”
Ugh. That freaking last name. Atlas had gotten the honor of picking our most recent last name, and he’d gone with the most boring choice possible. Really, it was better than what Jude or Corbin had come up with in the past. I did not enjoy being Liam Lennon, and Liam Crowe was only vaguely better.
“Yup, that’s me.” I tapped the steering wheel a bit impatiently. I figured I probably had at least ten minutes before Dev woke up, maybe longer. Still, it wasn’t impossible that he’d wake early. “I have a romantic evening planned for my boyfriend and I, and I hate to keep him waiting,” I explained, trying to rush the sheriff along. I wasn’t lying, either—bringing my little hellcat one of the villains who had orchestrated his kidnapping was definitely a romantic gesture.
He nodded at me and headed back to his car, and I continued to impatiently tap the steering wheel. How long did a ticket take? Would it be suspicious if I went into my trunk to make sure the victim stayed incapacitated? I wouldn’t let the sheriff see in, obviously, but I wasn’t sure what excuse I could have for goingin the trunk at all. Plus, if he happened to walk up at the wrong moment, that wouldn’t be fun for anyone.
I heaved out a sigh, and I saw him get out of his car and head back. Well, that was quick.
“I’ll let you go with a warning today, but be more careful,” he said, handing me back my documents. “Your family bought the two houses out by the woodlands, didn’t they? Lots of property out there.”
“Yup, it’s a beautiful area,” I responded. I wasn’t sure what he was getting at.
“That suspense writer lives out there, too. There was a bit of trouble with him, but nothing seems to have come of it,” he continued, looking at me.
“Oh, I wouldn’t know about that,” I said, smiling. I certainly wasn’t aware of the fact that Toby’s stalker had been killed on our property. Nope. Definitely not aware of anything like that.
He looked at me, and I had the urge to shift under his gaze, but I kept still. This sheriff was a predator in his own right, shining soul or not, and I did not need him poking into our business.
“Perhaps I’ll come around and check on him,” he said.
I just shrugged. “I’m sure if he had some trouble he would appreciate that. I haven’t heard much, but I only moved here recently.”
He looked at me for another moment, then he patted my hood and walked back toward his car. There was a light thump from the trunk, and I looked quickly in the rearview mirror, but the sheriff was back at his car. I put my blinker on and pulled out onto the road without waiting. No need to hang around if Dev was going to start thumping and yelling. He was gagged, but he could still make noise.
The rest of the drive back was uneventful and mostly quiet from Dev—he’d probably just rolled around a bit. The sheriffdidn’t follow me back, at least. He seemed to know a bit about us, and I did hate for human law enforcement to get involved in things. It was always so messy. I’d have to do some digging into him.
When I got back, I hauled a semi-conscious Dev down to the basement and texted Quinton. He bounded down the stairs not five minutes later.
“Thank god. Toby was getting really shifty looking. He isdefinitelyup to something, and Ireallydon’t want to find out what is on his twisted little mind,” Quinton announced. “What is he, anyway? He said Dexter was a hellhound, not that anyone believed him, but he didn’t say what he was.”
I blinked in surprise. “Toby?” I asked, confused.
“Yeah. Is he like a vampire or something? Shapeshifter? Demon?” Quinton said, walking over to look at Dev. The man was barely conscious and was just sort of vaguely staring at Quinton in confusion.
“Toby is human,” I answered.
Quinton looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “No fucking way. He’s so bloodthirsty, I figured he was something ferocious, despite his cute little exterior. I mean, the guy takes notes on torture methods.”
“He’s a writer,” I reasoned. “Dexter helps him out with plot points sometimes.”
Quinton snorted at that, shaking his head. “I’ll bet he does,” he muttered. He looked back at Dev, pulling the gag out of his mouth.
I had secured Dev to the chair, so I wasn’t concerned with their proximity. My hellcat wanted a chance to get his claws into the hellbound mortal, and I had no problem with that. He really did need to be a little more awake first, however. I walked over to a drawer and took out a syringe.
“Oh, what’s that? Truth serum? A torturous liquid that will slowly burn him from the inside out? Poison that only we have the antidote to?” Quinton asked gleefully.
I shot him a droll look as I injected Dev and then stepped away. “A little bit of adrenalin, just to get him focused and aware.”
“Aw, bummer. But I guess it’ll do,” Quinton said.
Dev was starting to look more aware, and he was staring at Quinton in confusion.
“Q,” he rasped out. “Fuck, where are we? You gotta untie me, and I’ll get us out of here. We must’ve been kidnapped.”
I stepped forward so he could see me, and he gave a little shriek in surprise.
