Page 109 of Hounded
“Get some sleep,” I told him and turned, needing to hide the tears I felt brewing.
Indy called after me. “Where are you going?”
My cellphone was like a lead weight in my pocket, containing text messages I hadn’t read and voicemails I hadn’t listened to. I wouldn’t, either. Whatever spite and vitriol Moira had for me, I was about to get it from her directly.
“I have to check in at work,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Really?”
I’d said it only half-thinking, or perhaps wholly hoping. But he’d told me to stay, to be with him, and I was too tired of being without him to resist anymore.
I glanced toward where he sat on the mattress. His curls were mussed, and his head was cocked, quizzical.
“If that’s all right,” I said.
His head tipped to the other side, and he blinked in that avian way. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Okay. But you’reon the couch.”
Relief washed over me as I nodded.
“And we’re gonna talk in the morning,” he tagged on.
I nodded again.
I was tired of talking, but I owed him this. Tomorrow, in the morning, I would tell him about Nero, Moira, and Whitney. I would tell him about the phoenix hunt. And I would tell him about us.
39
Loren
I grabbed a changeof clothes from the truck—too many clothes, Moira would say—then stopped at the bathhouse to wash up.
After a quick soap and rinse, I dressed in jeans and a cowl neck sweater. It was warm and comforting, and I had a feeling I would need all the comfort I could get.
Placing my palms on the cinderblock shower wall caused the portal to open, and my heart flopped as I stared through the doorway. It was Moira’s dressing room, where I’d met her before the Howl for Hope gala. I didn’t see her, but she must have been there. That was how it worked. My soul was bound to her, and every return to Hell was a call to heel.
I tripped over my own feet stepping into the dark space. I was unsteady enough, wavering and looking around until I saw the demoness reposed on a chaise lounge. She held an old book of poetry by E.E. Cummings, I’d owned a copy some years ago, and used it to fan herself.
As the portal wisped shut behind me, Moira tossed thebook to land splayed open on the ground. I stared at it for a moment before dragging my eyes up to meet hers.
“Lorenzo.” She said my name like it was a statement in and of itself. “What am I to do with you, pet?”
She stood, wearing a navy-blue gown with a plunging neckline that exposed her chest and most of her stomach. Her skin was the faintest shade of pink, as nearly human as she liked to pretend she was. The train of her dress trailed on the ground as she sauntered toward me.
As always, she crowded in, but she didn’t touch me this time. She stood near enough I could barely breathe without brushing against her breasts, but she didn’t raise a finger toward me.
Her head tilted, and her brows drew together in the slightest furrow. “I am benevolent, am I not?”
“Yes, Miss.”
Her gaze raked over me, casting scathing judgment. “I allow you your whims. Your freedom to come and go. I don’t keep you fettered or caged like the other dogs.” She hummed a discontented sound. “You’re quite a spoiled boy, aren’t you?”
A nod wouldn’t do. She wanted me to say it, so I forced the words out. “Yes, Miss.”
She stepped back. The dressing room was cramped with little walking space between the mirrored dressing table, clothing rack, and the couch, so she cut a tight circle while she spoke.
“Then why do I feel I must force you to keep my company? Have I done something to offend, or have you simply forgotten that your place is by my side?”
I had no excuses, nothing truthful or marginallyacceptable to pardon my behavior, but I had to try.
