Chapter 46
Gideon swallowed the last bite of granola bar he’d taken and stopped eating. He kept a close eye on the creature that had appeared on the far bank. It seemed to be limping slightly as it went down to the water. So far, it hadn’t noticed them.
Maybe because it was busy drinking.
The creature looked like a dog, but he had no idea what kind. It had molten-gold eyes, massive paws with thick black nails, and a stocky body that was all muscle and sinew. Its brindle coat was black with flecks of orange and red, making the animal look like it was covered in embers.
Maybe it was some kind of Rottweiler-mastiff mix. With a little wolf thrown in. And some wolverine. And a touch of something not of the mortal world.
For a moment, it looked up but still not in their direction. Smoke curled from the beast’s nostrils as it dipped its head toward the water again.
Then the breeze shifted and took their scent to the creature. It looked up at them and went very still. Its ears went down.
It couldn’t possibly be afraid of them.
In a voice that barely registered, Julia whispered, “Hellhound.”
As if understanding, the creature whined. A surprisingly sad sound. As they watched him, it limped back a step, still favoring the same foot.
A crazy idea entered Gideon’s head. He broke off a small piece of his granola bar and carefully tossed it across the stream.
The hellhound jumped back, then sniffed it, decided it wasn’t a threat, and gobbled it down.
Gideon broke off a second piece, inched forward, and tossed it across.
Again, the creature ate it.
This time, Gideon put a piece on his palm and held it out. “It’s okay. We won’t hurt you, so don’t hurt us, all right?” He stayed low and worked his way toward the edge of the stream, his heart racing. For a cursed man, he recognized he was probably making a huge mistake.
“Gideon.”
Sabrina’s quiet plea reached his ears, but he slowly shook his head. He was doing this. The hellhound watched him, eyes wary, nose twitching as smoke wafted from its nostrils. Its gaze shifted between Gideon and the piece of granola bar.
The hellhound stepped into the stream, gingerly moving his right paw.
Gideon’s heart was in his throat. He spoke softly, his tone as sweet as he could manage. “That’s a good boy. I know you’re hungry. I won’t hurt you, I promise.”
The beast took another step toward him. The forest had gone quiet. Not a leaf rustled or a bird sang. Eyes on Gideon, the animal sniffed at the granola.
“Good boy,” Gideon repeated. “Did you hurt your foot?”
Ever wary, the hellhound snatched the last piece of granola, its teeth grazing Gideon’s palm. It retreated, letting out another whine as its right paw touched the ground.
“Hey, it’s all right. You want more granola bar?” He held his hand out behind him, not taking his eyes off the creature. “Help me out here,” he said to the women.
Someone put another piece of granola bar into his hand.
He broke it in two, then slowly straightened, holding out one of the pieces. “Here you go. This is for you. I can look at that paw, if you want. Maybe we can help you. Would that be okay, boy? If you are a boy.”
The animal didn’t retreat, just watched as Gideon began to wade closer. He’d never been so happy that he owned waterproof hiking boots, although he was currently wishing his jacket was bulletproof. Or something that could stand up to the creature’s teeth.
Gideon made it to the bank but stopped when the animal cowered. “It’s okay, boy. I’m a friend, I promise.” Still keeping his movements slow, he crouched down and extended his hand.
The animal took the granola bar with less urgency this time.
Gideon kept his hand out. “What do you think? Can we be friends? Maybe I can look at your foot?”
The hellhound cautiously sniffed Gideon’s hand. His warm, wet nose made contact. Then he licked Gideon’s palm.
Gideon smiled. “Good boy. See, I won’t hurt you.” He lowered his hand, wondering if this was the last thing he’d ever do. Had he lost his mind? Was this how he died? “Can I look at your foot? See what’s wrong?”
The creature blinked. He tipped his head, then blew air through his nostrils, sending out another plume of smoke.
“I promise, I only want to help.”
The beast put his enormous paw in Gideon’s hand. Behind him, one of the women gasped.
“Good boy,” Gideon repeated. Could the creature feel him shaking? If so, Gideon hoped the animal didn’t see that as a sign of weakness and attack. He tossed the last piece of granola bar toward the hellhound as a distraction.
Then, carefully, Gideon turned the paw so he could see the underside. A tiny, prickly burr was wedged between the animal’s paw pads. “I see the problem. Getting it out is probably going to hurt.”
The animal bared its teeth as it whined, almost like it understood. Was that possible?
“Once it’s gone, it won’t hurt anymore. Okay?”
His answer was a soft but distinct woof.
Gideon blew out a breath. He was going to pretend that the paw was a delicate antique clock and the burr was a tiny piece of dust clogging up the mechanics. That’s all this was. Just another ordinary repair.
Using his thumb and forefinger like tweezers, he managed to get hold of the burr. Its sharp spines dug into his skin.
The hellhound whined again, but the sound turned into a low growl that wasn’t remotely friendly.
“Easy, boy. I’ve got it. Almost there.” He squeezed his fingertips around the burr as much as he could, hoping to shield the creature from further injury. Then he yanked it out.
A yowl erupted from the hellhound as Gideon covered his head with his arms and tried to make himself as small of a target as possible.
That’s when he felt the hot breath and killing bite of—wait. It wasn’t a killing bite. It was a wet tongue against his ear.
He moved his arms so he could see and was immediately bowled over by a fur missile.
The hellhound stood over him, licking his face and making happy little grunts.
Gideon put his hands out, connecting with the animal’s chest. He did his best to push the beast off him while laughing and trying to get up.
“Gideon!” Korrin yelled.
“Gideon, are you hurt?” Sabrina sounded panicked. “What’s going on?”
He looked up, realizing Korrin, Sabrina, and Julia’s view of him was blocked by the plants growing along the water’s edge. “I’m fine,” he called out. “Just being thanked.”
He finally got the animal off him and sat up. The beast wagged its tail and let out a little yip. Gideon raised his hand to show he was all right.
Sabrina was on her feet now, shaking her head. “That was the bravest, dumbest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”
“Yeah,” Korrin said, hovering next to her. “Brave and dumb.”
Gideon scratched behind the hellhound’s ear. “You don’t listen to them. I knew you weren’t going to hurt me. You just had an issue that needed dealing with, didn’t you, boy?”
The hellhound woofed, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.
Gideon got to his feet and brushed himself off. He stared at the hellhound. “Any chance you know where there’s a book around here?”
The creature let out a soft yip and backed up, watching Gideon like he expected his new friend to follow.
“No clue if that was a yes,” Korrin said. “Sorry, but hellhound is one of the few languages I don’t speak.”
Gideon knew it was a yes. He kept eye contact with the animal, but raised a finger to Sabrina, Julia, and Korrin. “Guys, we just got the help we were looking for. Get over here.”
“You sure?” Julia asked. “He might like you, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to like us.”
“It’ll be fine,” Gideon reassured her, not really knowing that but also deeply knowing that at the same time.
The hellhound could have killed him already if it had wanted to, but it had understood Gideon.
And Gideon had shown it kindness. They were friends now.
“You’re not going to hurt anyone, are you, boy? Although boy isn’t much of a name.”
He went back toward the stream’s edge to give the women a hand across. They stayed close to the water, eyeing the hellhound. Korrin seemed fixed to Sabrina’s shoulder.
Gideon stood beside the animal. “Try to think of him just like any other dog.”
Julia’s skeptical expression seemed to say her brain couldn’t make that leap. “Except he’s not any other dog.”
“No,” Gideon said. “He’s a bit more special. Aren’t you, Zeus?” He crouched down next to the animal.
“Zeus?” Sabrina smiled. “I like it. You really think he’s going to lead us to the book?”
Gideon looked at Zeus. He’d been thinking about getting a dog.
He’d just never imagined it would be this much dog.
Of course, he was assuming two things. One, that he could actually get rid of this curse and two, that hellhounds could even be kept as pets, but he supposed he’d find out.
“What do you think? You want to help me get rid of this curse?”
With a gravelly woof, Zeus lowered his chest to the ground in a stretch, then turned and trotted off toward a new part of the forest.