Page 14 of Fiends and Familiars
Typhon
Awitch. It all made sense now—not that I was going to admit any of that to Yeth.
“She told me to go away,” the hellhound whined. “She yelled at me.”
If there needed to be any more proof that magic was afoot, Yeth’s heartsick sorrow was it. The hellhound was devastated over the woman’s anger, and was moping that he’d never get to have liver treats or rib bones again. It was so ridiculous. He was a hellhound. He could go anywhere he wanted, do anything he wanted. Some human yelling at him shouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference in his habits, and if he wanted a snack, he was absolutely capable of walking right into someone’s house and taking the dinner off their table.
But the witch had clearly cast some sort of spell over him. If I didn’t manage to break it, Yeth might end up switching his loyalties and becoming no more than a witch’s lapdog. Poor guy.
Although Yeth wasn’t my priority, it wasFaust. I wasn’t about to admit that I’d gotten sucked into the witch’s dream and been far more interested in sex than in locating my quarry and bringing him back to hell. No, boinking a sexy witch and rescuing Yeth from a horrible fate were not allowed to be at the top of my to-do list.
“Did you locate exactly where you-know-who is?” I began to pace, completely ignoring the soul before me, who was in hell for a multitude of sins including habitually double-dipping in the queso and never returning his library books.
“He’s somewhere in the house.” Yeth pouted, his thoughts still clearly with the witch. “I believe he was in the bedroom, but I’m not positive. He moves around, but he clearly is staying inside the house—no doubt because of those wards. He knows we can’t get through them.”
Normally I would have argued that point. A mere witch’s spell should have been no hinderance for a demon who was Master of the Hellhounds, but I’d already been seduced by this witch’s lurid desires, been rendered helpless against her magic. I wasn’t about to downplay the possible effectiveness of those wards. I always enjoyed solving problems with brute force, but it was clear this time I would require another technique.
I could show up in force with my pack of hellhounds and bluff—demand that she hand over Faust, or I’d lay siege to her home. That idea had great appeal, but there was a good chance the witch would call my bluff and I hated to look the fool, especially in front of my hellhounds.
We could wait from a distance until the witch let down her guard or untilhegot tired of hiding out in her house, then make our move. However, I wasn’t known for my patience and after searching for Faust for centuries, I didn’t want to risk him getting away once again.
I needed more information. I needed to send another hellhound with Yeth this time. Hopefully with two of them, they’d be able to resist her liver treats and remain focused on the job at hand. And if I needed to go visit her dreams a few more times…well, that was a sacrifice I’d be willing to make.
“Go back to her house and see if you can get inside,” I instructed Yeth. “Take a few of the other hellhounds with you, that way if you’re distracted by liver treats or rib bones, one of the other hounds can go retrieve Faust.”
Yeth sniffed, insulted. Still he obeyed, taking Snarl, Barghest, and Vartun with him. I got back to work torturing a pharmaceutical lobbyist and waited for them to return. I wasn’t exactly surprised when the three hounds came back to hell without Yeth, or Faust.
“Let me guess, more rib bones?” I asked.
Barghest shook his massive furry head. “Ham.”
“It was very tasty ham,” Vartun added. “Honey glazed. Lots of fat. I’ll definitely go back.”
For fuck’s sake. I hadn’t sent them out to review a new restaurant in town. They were supposed to bring me Faust.
“And Yeth is still there eating ham? Is it too much to hope that he’ll remember to get inside her house and get the soul I sentfourof you to retrieve?”
The three hellhounds cringed. “She promised him the bone,” Snarl whined. “I wanted the bone. It’s not fair that Yeth gets the ham bone and we don’t.”
I set aside the nail-studded board I was using on the lobbyist and sighed. There was no way around it. I’d need to go myself, pry Yeth away from his ham bone, and get Faust.
I’d see her again. Was it late enough that she’d be in bed? Naked? Dreaming? Or maybe I could knock and she’d answer the door in some silky negligee, and we head into her bedroom. I imagined all the things we’d do, any thought of Faust completely vanishing from my mind.
“Master?”
I jerked from my reverie and realized I’d been standing there, staring into the distance while my hellhounds awaited instruction and a soul awaited torturing.
“You hounds continue working on this lobbyist,” I told them. “I’m going to go get Yeth and the soul. If I’m not back by the time you’re done, then chase the internet trolls around a bit. Make sure you bite them and not just chase them, okay?”
“Got it.” Barghest did a little salute with one of his paws, then picked up the board in his mouth. He wouldn’t do as good of a job as I would, but it wouldn’t be right to leave this soul unpunished while I ran off and got laid—I mean, retrieved an escaped soul.
The witch lived in a modest, one-story house that looked nearly identical to every other house on the block. A huge oak shaded most of her lawn from the moonlight, and a thick hedge defined both sides of her property. A truck sat in the driveway, cages and other equipment stacked neatly in the bed. I eyed the cages, but unlike in the dream, none of them jumped out and attempted to enclose me.
All the lights were off in the house. I reached out with my senses, trying to determine who and what was inside only to encounter a solid wall of very effective wards. They ended abruptly just before the garage, so that’s where I headed.
The garage door was open about eighteen inches at the bottom. I knew how loud those suckers were, and didn’t want to demean myself by crawling underneath, so I went around the side and found a door.
Unlocked. No wards. I opened it and stepped into the garage only to stop, staring in disgust at my missing hellhound. Yeth was sound asleep, curled up on a stack of towels and pillows as if he were a pampered Pomeranian. The ham bone cradled between his two front paws was absolutely cleaned of all meat. I could see the grooves from his teeth marks from clear across the room. Beside him was a half-drank bowl of water.
