Page 17 of Hounded
Sully pulled away, holding onto my elbows as she looked me over. “Well? How’d it go?”
“I was late.”
“What?” Her grip on me tightened. “Why?”
In my century of life on Earth, I hadn’t admitted many people into my circle of trust. Really, my confidence was less of a circle and more of a one-way street between Indy and me. I was content with his company alone, but Indy preferred to branch out. He made friends with gas station attendants, dog walkers, strangers in parks, and Sully.
Sully was a witch, unsurprised by the existence of the afterlife or the creatures who inhabited it, and she took to Indy and me with curious enthusiasm. It felt natural, comfortable, in her presence. I could be more honest with her than with Indy. She remembered what he forgot, and I didn’t need to be strong for her.
In addition to running the art gallery, she also owned an impressive library of books on arcana and mythos, and she knew more about being a hellhound than even I did. She also knew about my mistress and the eternal contract that bound my soul to the demoness’s service.
So, when I answered Sully’s question with chagrin, she knew what I meant in saying, “Duty called.”
“That bitch,” Sully grumbled. “Did she know? Did she do it on purpose?”
“No,” I said quickly, then added, “and no.”
She sniffed and gave her head a toss, unsettling her bleach-tipped dreads. Some of the angry wrinkles smoothed from her face before she spoke again. “Okay, so you were late. Then what happened?”
“He made it home,” I said. “He was waiting for me.”
“And?”
Weeks spent anticipating Indy’s return had culminatedin a letdown. Sully had been as excited as I had. Maybe more so since my enthusiasm had been heavily tinged with dread. She was new to this, having only met me and Indy in his last lifetime. I’d tried to explain how it usually went, but it proved impossible to prepare someone else for what I myself was never ready for.
I tugged on my sweater sleeve. The woolen material felt soft between my fingers. “I let him in the trailer, told him where the food was, gave him his keys, and left.”
“That’s it?” Sully pressed.
I nodded.
“That’s all?” she tried again.
Another nod.
“Doesn’t sound so bad.”
I shrugged. He hadn’t even been angry, and it surprised me to realize I would have preferred that to the apathy I got instead. Now, I was the one feeling apathetic, almost numb, but my face must have betrayed something deeper because Sully clucked her tongue.
“Oh, honey.” She drew me in for another hug, then stepped back and rubbed her hands down my arms. “It’s early yet,” she said. “He’ll come around. Doesn’t he always?”
He did, but it took time. I wanted him beside me now, close and safe. I wanted to hold him, to feel his body contour to mine, to hear him laugh and tell me he loved me… But Sully was right. It was early, too soon for me to need those things so desperately. I knew better. That didn’t make it any easier.
Using the hand affixed to my arm, Sully turned me toward the end of the sidewalk and the diner a blockahead. The neon sign in its window read Neighborhood Nosh.
“Dinner,” she declared. “Then we’ll figure out where you’re gonna sleep tonight. My couch is yours if you want it.”
I shook my head. “I have to go back. Indy might need something.” Though I couldn’t fathom what. The Airstream was fully stocked. I’d washed and hung all his clothes and outfitted the bathroom with every necessity.
In hindsight, I might have had too long to prepare for this. Too much time to think and worry that I had done something irreparably wrong last time, so everything had to be perfect now. I cringed at the thought of how imperfect it had been thus far.
“C’mon, Romeo.” Sully looped her arm around mine. “I’m gonna fatten you up with the best cinnamon rolls and the worst coffee in town.”
Dodging foot traffic and traversing a crosswalk, we reached the entrance of Neighborhood Nosh. It billed itself as “modern retro dining.” Inside, checkerboard floor tiles and the jukebox situated front and center were true to the theme.
A pigtailed waitress guided us to an empty booth and handed out laminated menus.
“Coffees, please,” Sully answered the unasked question, and the waitress stepped away only to return seconds later with a steaming carafe and two mugs.
