Page 52 of Hounded
Nero’s eyes glowed acid green, indicative of the sin he most closely identified with at the moment: greed.
He wanted Indy as decoration for this barren space. He would leave my phoenix to wither and fade in a cage worse than the one in which I first found him. That memory drummed up latent anger, and my hound stirred in response.
Treasure,he said. He sounded as sorrowful as if the battle was already lost.
A few feet away, Moira had recovered and joined in the scheming. “Once the hounds are ready, you can have your pick of the litter to hunt for you and represent your interests.”
Nero stabbed his gnarled finger at Whitney.
“I want that one,” he declared.
My heart stuttered.
Moira followed the archdemon’s gesture. Her scarlet lips fell apart, and her eyes flicked from Whitney to me while panic wreaked havoc on her features. After a startledsecond, she spun toward Nero.
“Oh, sir, you misunderstand.” The sound that came out of her might have been a laugh, but it was too soft and jittery to be convincing. “I meant one of thenewhounds,” she said. “Something fresh. All your own.”
Nero scoffed. “You said I’d have my pick, and so I have. That dog has more experience than all the young pups combined, and he’s already scented the bird. Why should I settle for less?”
I dared a glance at Whitney and found his jaw set and his features rigid. He faced forward so steadfastly I almost believed he was unbothered, but the slight quake in his knees betrayed him.
All I knew of Nero was that he delighted in cruelty, and that was enough to make me wary. Moira had her own claws, of course, but I was familiar with their sting. The enigma frightened me much more. In this instance, the phrase “better the devil you know” applied literally.
Moira shifted and swayed while wringing her hands. “There’s time yet.” She tried for another tittering laugh. “It’s another few weeks till they are fully trained. You can think about it. Perhaps one of the others will strike your fancy.”
Nero strode forward, and his steps echoed on the polished floor. “I’ve made up my mind, and I believe I’ll take him now.” He held out an empty hand, palm up.
Moira sagged as though the archdemon had reached into her and removed her spine.
“Now?” she asked breathlessly.
“The phoenix is out there, roaming free.” Irritation gave Nero’s voice a raw edge. “Why delay?Heneeds nofurther training.” He indicated Whitney. “And a slight head start will be my reward for placing my faith in you.”
The room felt cavernous, and we shrunk within it. Moira couldn’t refuse him, just as we couldn’t refuse her. All of Hell was a hierarchy, and that was most evident to those of us on the bottom rungs.
When Moira spoke again, her voice wavered. “Please, sir. Not my boys. You can have any of the others.Allthe others—”
“Should I take that one, too?” When Nero indicated me, I leaned back, fighting the impulse to make a full retreat. My unchecked fear caused the archdemon to smirk and add, “Perhaps they work better as a team.”
“No!” Moira blurted, then was silenced by Nero’s glare. She cupped her palm to her mouth, and her head hung low. I’d never seen her so defeated.
Nero grunted a satisfied sound. His hand remained outstretched, waiting for the offering Moira had yet to remit. “I will take your pretty soldier and put him to the test. If he impresses me, I may decide to keep him permanently. And for him to impress me would be a boon for you, Mistress of the Hounds.”
Relief came with a chaser of guilt. I had been spared, but Whitney’s fate was sealed.
Moira glanced at me, looking like a mourner at a funeral. Then she turned toward Whitney with her hands fisted at her sides. I imagined she wanted to fix his hair, straighten his jacket, and groom him for his new master. But fond farewells were not exchanged in Hell, especially not in front of hard-nosed archdemons. So instead, Moira opened her palm to reveal a coiled gold chain leash. Shefumbled through clipping it to Whitney’s collar, then stepped back and gave a gentle tug.
“Come,” she murmured.
While she led Whitney to Nero’s side, I hung back, afraid to so much as twitch and draw attention to myself. For someone who dealt in binding contracts, our mistress had left this arrangement unclear. It wasn’t an actual transfer of ownership—that required paperwork. This was a short-term lease. A test drive. That knowledge failed to give me peace as Moira handed the leash to Nero.
He gave it a jingle while looking my fellow hound up and down, then his lip curled.
“Don’t you know to kneel in the presence of your betters, cur?” He jerked on the leash, snapping the choke chain tight around Whitney’s throat.
Whitney grunted and dropped to his knees with his hands behind his back and his blond head lowered.
Nero rumbled a laugh. “That’s better.”
