Chapter Three
The café sat on the fringe of Cairo, far enough from tourist traps that Lamont could blend in without effort.
His wide-brimmed hat shadowed his face and hid most of his hair, and the casual jeans and T-shirt marked him as just another traveler looking for a decent coffee that could be drunk somewhere shady.
He’d chosen a dim corner table, positioned so his back faced the wall, and he could watch the street through grimy windows.
The coffee was bitter and too hot, but Lamont wrapped his hands around the cup anyway, needing something to do with them while his hound paced restlessly beneath his skin.
Ten days.
Ewen had been missing for ten days, and every hour that passed made Lamont’s chest tighten further. He’d spent more lifetimes than most could count, going with his gut and the instincts of his hound, and both were telling him Ewen was in danger.
Putting down his cup, he pulled out his phone and stared at Coda’s direct line. Lamont wasn’t sure what the protocol was – approaching someone from Lord Zeus’s network, rather than Lord Hades – but he was fast running out of options.
A flick of power created a sound barrier around his table. The café’s ambient noise - clinking cups, low conversations, the hiss of the espresso machine - dulled to a distant hum. Anyone watching would see a man making a phone call, but wouldn’t hear a word of it.
The line connected after three rings.
“Lamont?” Coda’s voice carried the faint distraction of someone multitasking. “If you’re calling to complain about the social media posts from Tuscany, I already told Giorgio I’d edit out the shirtless photos.”
What freaking shirtless photos? I was dressed in a suit most days.
Not even wanting to think about it, Lamont shook his head. “I thought all those photos were being removed – shirtless or otherwise. But anyway, I need something else - information on a missing person.”
Keyboard clicks stopped. “I beg your pardon?”
“His name is Ewen Cross. He’s an American journalist who works for the Manhattan branch of The New York Times. He disappeared from Cairo ten days ago.” Lamont kept his voice as calm as he could under the circumstances. “I need his location.”
“This is highly irregular and outside of my usual purview.” Coda’s tone shifted to cautious. “Why are you asking me? This sounds like a job for local authorities or maybe one of your investigative journalist contacts.”
“Local authorities in New York were notified, but they’re no help.
Now no one else from The Times is even looking for him, because someone had enough power to make the newspaper scrub Ewen’s name from their systems.” Lamont’s grip tightened on the phone.
“Whoever took him has government connections somewhere along the line. I’m calling you because I need answers faster than regular channels can provide. ”
“I understand that sounds like a potentially dire situation for the gentleman concerned. However, you know the rules. No god, or those who come under their jurisdiction, can interfere in mortal affairs.” Coda sighed.
“You’d do better to speak to Lord Hades and ask if he can help.
That non-interference law applies to hellhounds as much as it does to me. ”
Lamont’s hound snarled, pushing against his control. He breathed through it, forcing his voice to stay calm. “You did plenty of interference in Tuscany.”
“That was different. The situation with Giorgio and his mate gave rise to a potential test where we in the Lord Zeus’s network could ascertain the use of social media engagement in releasing information…”
“You had the four of us posing for photos for influencers and tourists.” Lamont still couldn’t think of that situation without shuddering.
Some people had no idea how “being nice” could be downright scary.
“You got so involved with the spread of data, and the likes and shares the posts were getting, nothing was done during that time to help Giorgio and Enda find out who was actually targeting them. For goodness’ sake, Giorgio ended up getting shot at.
And this was after I specifically told you that amount of publicity could turn dangerous. ”
Silence stretched across the line.
“You said you owed me a favor,” Lamont continued. “You said on that first day, when we called to complain, and I quote, ‘Lamont, you’re a lifesaver. I’ll make it up to you…’”
More silence. Then Coda said quietly, “You’re really going to hold me to that?”
“Yes.”
“Look, I understand that you feel compelled for some reason to help this journalist, but the protocols are in place for a reason. If anyone connected with the gods interferes just one time, and it’s overlooked and let go…”
“He’s not an ordinary mortal,” Lamont said, thinking fast. “I… I… My hound seems to think he’s my mate.” Yes, it was a lie – even if Lamont felt the attraction, he didn’t know for sure.
In theory, it was the only situation that made sense now he’d said the words out loud.
The way Ewen had come right up to him and spoke to him, for no real reason at all.
The way Lamont hadn’t been able to forget the man the ten days since.
The way his hound, who was usually a laid back beast, was so damned sure they needed to find the man.
No one had ever lingered in Lamont’s brain and agitated his gut the way Ewen did.
So he lied, because no matter what, Ewen needed saving.
“Your mate?” Coda’s voice had gone soft. “Lamont, I didn’t know…”
“We met at a restaurant. Pier888 on the Nile. He approached me, said he had information about a story.” Lamont could still see Ewen’s face, those intelligent eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses, the way he’d switched to French like it was natural.
“I could see he wanted to say more, but we were in public, and then…two men dragged him away before we could finish talking.”
“You didn’t stop them?”
“Lord Hades had already summoned me to Tuscany. I was on my way out the door to answer that summons when I bumped into Ewen.” The bitterness leaked through despite Lamont’s best efforts.
“I texted him constantly while I was in Tuscany, but the texts remained unread. By the time I got back and started looking, he’d been gone for five days or more, and I lost his scent.
For all I know, he’s been held captive since the night I saw him.
His phone’s clearly dead now. Apparently, his apartment’s empty.
The people who took him know what they’re doing. ”
Coda exhaled slowly. “Clearly, you haven’t claimed each other yet, or you’d know where he was.”
“I couldn’t claim him, because I was in Tuscany, posing for your social media campaign while my mate was being held captive somewhere in this city.” Lamont’s voice dropped. “So yes, Coda. I’m collecting on that favor. Find him.”
The line went quiet except for the distant sound of typing. Lamont waited, his hound coiled tight and ready to spring the moment they had a direction to move.
“I understand,” Coda said finally. “I’m pulling up Lord Zeus’s satellite network. Give me Ewen’s full name and date of birth if you have it.”
Lamont repeated what he knew, which wasn’t much. Ewen Cross, American, journalist, worked at The Times. He didn’t have a birthdate, didn’t know Ewen’s middle name, and had barely exchanged two dozen words with the man before everything went to hell.
His mate. Even if that wasn’t true, Lamont knew he was doing the right thing.
His hound had never cared about anyone but his pack mates - had never felt a pull to be with someone so intently before.
Sure, he might get into shit with more than a few godly persons if it turned out the mate comment wasn’t true, but Lamont was fine with apologizing after the fact.
Lamont had let the man down – gone against his gut reaction when he’d left Ewen to face danger alone - and mate or not, Lamont was going to find him.
“I’ve got him.” Coda’s voice pulled Lamont back to the present. “He’s...actually, that’s weird.”
“What’s weird?”
“His location hasn’t moved in days. Same building, same coordinates.” Keys clicked rapidly. “Based on the thermal signature, he’s in a basement. Underground level, maybe twelve feet down.”
Lamont’s heart kicked against his ribs. “Where?”
“In an industrial area on the east side of Cairo. That’ll give you an idea of where to start searching. But Lamont, I can’t give you specifics. The rules…”
“Are you seriously going to lecture me about rules right now?” The sound barrier around Lamont’s table flickered, his magic responding to the surge of rage.
He clamped down hard, forcing it to stabilize.
“You just told me my mate is in a basement somewhere in this city. People who are willing to make a journalist disappear are holding him. Every hour I waste increases the chance they’ll kill him. ”
“I know, but…”
“You owe me, Coda.” Lamont leaned forward, voice dropping even though he knew no one could hear him.
“After all I did for you in Tuscany. Don’t you realize that if you’d found out who was hunting Giorgio and Enda any faster, instead of wasting your time collecting likes and shares, Ewen could have been saved by now.
I’d never let a pack mate or his mate down, and I’d never go against Lord Hades, but in all that time I was running around for you, my mate was in danger. ”
Coda muttered something that sounded like a curse in ancient Greek. “Understood. But when Lord Zeus finds out I accessed the satellite network for this, I’m telling him you coerced me.”
“Tell him whatever you want. Coordinates. Now….please,” he added, because even angry Lamont did appreciate any help he could get.
“Pulling them up.” More typing, then Coda rattled off a string of numbers.
“That’s the exact location, accurate to within three feet.
The building’s registered as an abandoned textile factory, but the thermal readings show at least six people inside.
Maybe more on upper floors where the signatures get muddy. ”
Lamont committed the coordinates to memory, his hound already calculating distance and translocation points. “Six people?”
“Give or take. And Lamont?” Coda hesitated. “The thermal signature for your mate is...weak. Weaker than it should be for someone his size. Either he’s injured or…”
“Don’t.” Lamont stood, dropping cash on the table for the barely touched coffee. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
“Right. Good luck.”
Lamont disconnected without responding, already pulling his magic for translocation. The sound barrier dissolved as he left the café, stepping into an alley that was mercifully empty. Perfect. No one would notice when he vanished.
His hound pushed forward, eager to start hunting in earnest. Ten days of worry, eating through Lamont’s control and finally, they had a direction. The coordinates burned in his mind, a fixed point he could lock onto.
But he forced himself to pause, to think. Six people minimum, and Ewen’s thermal signature reading weak. Charging in without a plan was stupid, and stupidity got people killed. His mate needed him to be functional, not reckless.
Lamont closed his eyes and reached for his magic, feeling it coil through his body like smoke. Hellhounds could create objects, translocate across distances, and were immune to magic from anyone other than a god. But they were also built for hunting, and right now, Lamont needed to hunt smart.
He’d go in human first, he decided, and assess the situation. If Ewen was injured…you know he’s injured, that’s what a weak thermal signature meant… The six guards or whoever they were could be a problem, especially if they were human. They’d be potential witnesses.
I can’t kill them without permission from the Fates. Lamont tilted his head, hoping for some form of divine message, but his head only held his muddled thoughts.
I can’t show up as a hellhound and scare the shit out of them. That was really tempting, but that sort of revelation would have him pulled into Lord Hades’s office before he’d have time to blink.
Dig him out? Lamont shook his head. That would take too long. He did think that if Ewen was alone in…wherever he was…then Lamont could just zap to him and translocate him out. No one would see him, and at least Ewen would be safe.
I need to take a look at this place first. Lamont knew that was the sensible thing to do, but if he didn’t see an obvious way in… He was just going to wing it.
“One step at a time,” Lamont muttered, then let his magic take him. At least when he landed, he’d be in the right vicinity.