Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hellhounds aren’t from hell or anything. They’re shifters, but not just any kind of shifter. They’re six to eight hundred years old to be at that power level. Think shifter Terminator. Oh, and we can’t forget the magic—fire magic—hence the hell part of their nickname.
Shifters are immortal, as when they shift, their cells regenerate. However, like most creatures, they can be killed, and due to their hot tempers, reaching an age where a shifter can potentially develop fire magic is unlikely, which is why they’re so rare.
To exist, hellhounds must be strong and emotionally intelligent, making them scary.
“They’re not my Claw Brotherhood,” I mumble. “There are more of them?”
“There’s always more of them, but you don’t have to worry about that.”
Don’t worry my pretty little head, right? I don’t know who he thinks he’s talking to. I dealt with the Claw Brotherhood myself, knocked them all out, and could have killed them all on my lonesome while he napped in the multi-storey car park.
I have to count to ten in my head so I don’t get mad or run my mouth. I can’t do that with this guy, as we are still tiptoeing around each other. Besides, I need his help. I side-eye him. Look at the size of him. He’d probably kill me if I said the wrong thing.
A part of me wishes I could turn into a dragon and eat people. The other half doesn’t want to eat other creatures. I wouldn’t even have to eat them; I could chomp on them and spit them out. I wouldn’t have to swallow anything.
I’d use my giant dragon gnashers and pulp them a little bit. Or, if I’m as big as the silver dragon, I could squish them with my feet.
Yeah, that would be pretty cool. But of course, “I’ve got the dragon magic without THE dragon magic.”
“I wish you were a dragon,” Soren says.
Oh heck, I must have said some of that out loud. I’m still not right, and my filters are broken.
“If you could shift into dragon form, that’d solve many of our problems. No one would mess with you then.”
I huff out a small laugh. “No, no one would.” Especially Anton Hill. “Hey, did you get Damien Hass?” I ask, taking a bigger mouthful of the soup.
“Damien Hass?”
Great. I should have told him about Damien as soon as I woke up.
This is the information that the good guys need.
If they’re the good guys. I swallow. “Yeah, he calls himself the Grand Claw.” I roll my eyes at the stupid title.
“He’s the leader. He was the guy that abducted me off the street; he has floppy blond hair, a big nose, and is over six feet tall. ”
He uses a nasty charm called the Dragon’s Eye while pretending it’s his magic. A charm so evil that it eats away chunks of his soul. I obviously don’t say the last bit.
“No, we didn’t get him. This so-called leader wasn’t there when we came for you, but don’t worry. We’ll get him; it’s only a matter of time. You will be fine. You’ll be safe with your twenty-four-hour security.”
That sounds fun… twenty-four-hour security. A bossy gargoyle and probably equally bossy hellhounds, all telling me what to do while trying to protect me.
While attempting to nudge me in the right direction of creating spells. Charms that I probably don’t want to make. I know, I know. I’m going to get Stockholm syndrome, and I’m going to start liking these people, and then it’s a slippery slope.
I drop my head and stare into the soup, searching for answers to my future in the bowl.
“I need to ring my mum and dad and tell them what’s happened.
Well, not tell them what’s happened. I can’t blurt it all out on the phone, but I’d like to tell them I’m okay and apologise for being out of contact for so long. ”
Soren adjusts his bowl and taps his spoon. “I spoke to them a couple of days ago. I let them know you’ve been unwell. You can see them this afternoon if you’re ready.”
“Really?” I sag in my seat. “You’ll let me see them in person? What about the people watching them and the cameras?”
“There aren’t any cameras now.”
How does he know that? Unless… “The gargoyles have removed them?”
Sheepishly, he nods. “But maybe you should speak to Emma first.” He pulls out a phone, presses a few buttons and places it gently on the counter. “She has been calling every few hours, and her mate is getting mad. He’s incredibly protective of her and their unborn child.”
“Do you know her number?”
He taps the counter. “It’s already ready for you to call.”
“Thank you.”
The phone rings twice, and a soft, gentle voice answers. “Is she okay?”
“Hi, Emma, it’s me. I’m okay.” I twist the spoon in the soup, feeling a little awkward. I haven’t known her long, but she’s rapidly becoming a friend.
She sighs in relief. “Oh, thank fate. I was so worried about you. They said you almost died and that your heart stopped.”
I stare at the gargoyle, who can no doubt hear both sides of the conversation. “My heart stopped. Really?” I raise an eyebrow. “He neglected to tell me that.”
“Two minutes, fifteen seconds. Your healing charm shocked your heart, along with the doctor who was trying to help get you back.”
“Wow, I’m sorry. Was he okay?”
Soren takes the bowl and spoon from me and wipes down the island. “The doctor is a shifter, and he’s fine. He said it tickled.”
“Tickled. Shit.” I pull a face and then continue the conversation with Emma. “I’m sorry about that. I got distracted. I’m fine. I feel great. I’m just a little bit tired, which is ridiculous because I’ve been asleep for four days. Um, just, uh, don’t tell my mum.”
“I will not tell your mum,” Emma squeaks out. “I’ve not got a death wish. Your mum’s scary.”
I giggle. “Yeah, she is a little bit. You should see her with my brothers and my dad. She keeps us all on our toes.”