Page 32 of Lust

Lillian crumpled like a paper napkin at a rib fest. “The NAC?”

“Three times.” Sophia held up three precisely manicured, pink-tipped fingers. “Your performance was so…compelling.”

Lillian giggled and curled a lock of hair around her finger. “Oh, that.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I was so much more inexperienced then.”

“I didn’t know you were part of the Paradise Players.” Sophia’s giggling was like tinkling bells on a Christmas tree. “It’s almost like fate that I wandered in here.”

“No lights, no play,” Dean bellowed from the lighting booth.

“Shall we take this to the greenroom?” Lillian waved her arm like a benevolent dictator casting money to the masses. “And take this conversation further.”

“Quite right.” Peter cleared his throat. “Perhaps you can tell us how we can help you.”

“We’d love to help you.” Barrie flexed the opposite bicep as he motioned the way. “We’re a very inclusive theatre company.”

Rodney seemed to shake himself out of his reveries. “Are we certain that dog is down the road? I felt sure that sound came from inside the building.”

“There are no dogs in the building.” Eddie brazened it out. “What, do you think I have a dog chained in the basement?”

Sophia cut a sharp gaze at Eddie. It made her want to confess her lie and beg for forgiveness. “Greenroom?” she managed weakly.

“Splendid.” Peter rubbed his hands together. “And perhaps Sophia can tell us her areas of interest.”

Patty gathered her wool. “Hehehe.”

Ugh! He made it sound dirty, and Eddie hurried off to deal with her noisy hounds.

Chapter

Nine

Yesterday met her at the basement entrance, his face creased up like an old shoe. “Not good. Not good at all.”

Just once, it would be great if the little shit had good news for her.

Eddie followed him into the basement, conspicuously empty of hell hounds. “Where are they?”

“With their master.” Yesterday scuttled, rotating his arms like helicopter blades in a way she guessed meant he wanted her to hurry up.

“They went back to hell?” That was good news. Maybe that last howl had been a kind of so-long-see-ya kind of howl.

“No.” Yesterday blinked at him. “Why would they be back in hell?”

“Because—” And a horrible thought struck her. If the hell hounds were with their master, and their master happened to be the same being who created them. Following that golden line of fuck no—and the hounds were not back in hell, but in her basement—

Her brain stalled as Eddie outran Yesterday to the hell gate.

At first, all she could see was two large, furry bodies. Then one hound turned to her with a mournful expression, whimpered, and shifted aside.

And Eddie saw Shade.

Only so much worse than when she’d seen him in her vision. Both eyes were swollen shut, his face distorted and bruised. Gashes across his torso and thighs that looked like claw marks oozed blood on the floor. One leg jutted at an angle that made her queasy, and his beautiful wings lay like broken, plucked birds beneath him.

Nope, not good at all. Her stomach in knots, her heart thumping uncomfortably, Eddie hurried forward. “Is he dead?” The idea tugged at something in her chest and made her breath catch.

The other hound nuzzled Shade’s side.

She was not good with blood. It kind of made her lightheaded, and Eddie took deep breaths as she knelt beside Shade. She needed to help him, put his broken pieces back together.

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