Page 28 of City of the Lost
The hound studied me for a long beat and then began to shrink. Not much but enough to fit through the door.
“Well, ain’t that a neat trick?”
He followed me into the kitchen and parked his butt beside the table. A plate of bacon floated across the room and landed in front of him.
“You saved my Wila,” Gilbert said. “You get as much bacon as you want.”
The hound didn’t flinch or seem surprised by Gilbert’s presence. He simply lowered his head and snarfed the bacon. It was gone in less than two seconds, and then he raised his head to lock eyes with me. There was calm intelligence in those amber eyes.
I parked my butt on the nearest chair. “Why have you been saving me?”
The hound offered me another slow blink.
I raised a hand, fingers hovering by his head, eager to pet him but not wanting to be presumptuous. This was no ordinary animal. This was something new, something astute. He nudged my hand with his head, giving me permission, and then closed his eyes as I ran my fingers through his silken fur.
“Where did you come from, eh?” Of course he couldn’t answer me, but a warm, safe feeling shot through me.
“Oh, fuck!” Trevor said from the doorway. His tiny body was frozen in horror.
The hound opened its eyes and slowly turned its huge head in Trevor’s direction. My leg muscles contracted, ready for action if needed, but the hound merely chuffed and turned away again, nudging my hand for another petting.
I chuckled. “I think you’re safe, Trev. I don’t think he sees you as a threat.”
“Well, that’s one way to kick a guy in the balls.” Trevor warily entered the room, giving the hound a wide berth. He hopped into his seat on the opposite side of the table, side-eyeing the beast. “This is the creature that saved you?”
“Yep.” I continued to stroke the hound, and he laid his head on my lap and closed his eyes.
“Trust me, he looked a lot more ferocious when he was scaring off the Lupin and ripping the shit out of the Lost underground.” I examined the hound’s side, probing gently with my fingers, and sure enough there was scar tissue from the spear a Shedim had jammed into its side under the mausoleum. “He’s saved me too many times.” I looked up. “I’m not going to kick him out if he wants to stick around.”
Trevor sighed. “I guess you can’t. And as long as he keeps his chompers to himself, we’re good.”
The hound opened one eye to glare at Trevor, then closed it again with a harrumph.
I chuckled. “I think you have an agreement.”
“Good, because I’m fucking starving.”
Gilbert placed a plate of bacon in front of Trevor and a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich in front of me.
“Thanks, Gilbert. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Starve,” Trevor said around a mouthful of food. “Or die of food poisoning, because you can’t cook for shit.”
“Hey, I can cook just fine. I just need a mobile phone and a takeout menu to do it.”
Trevor snorted. “Speaking of mobile phones, where’s the video of razor mouth doing the fandango?”
“Azren was dancing?” Gilbert sounded amused.
“Yeah, but not the fandango.” I whipped out my phone and loaded up the video. “Check it out.” Music filtered from my phone, covered by hoots of encouragement, and there was Azren, snake-hipping his way all over the table.
Trevor choked and then spat out a gob of masticated bacon. Gilbert let out a guffaw.
“Ahem.”
Azren stood in the doorway, hair still damp from the shower, still slightly pale but upright and coherent. “Youwilldelete that.”
I tucked my phone into my bra. “Not happening, dude.”
