“I don’t think this was just a punishment; I think he was being silenced.” Jaw hard, Knox glanced out of the window that overlooked the deserted beach and choppy water. “Fuck, he didn’t deserve this.”
No, he hadn’t. Harry had been a good guy, and they’d all known him a long time. He hadn’t just been a member of their lair, he’d spent years of his childhood in the same home for orphaned demonic children that Knox, Tanner, Levi, and the other two sentinels had. Knox had long ago bought the place, knocked it down, and then built a luxury hotel over its remains.
Whereas the five of them had stuck together on leaving Ramsbrook House, Harry had gone his own way like many of the others. It hadn’t been until eight years ago that Harry reappeared in their lives and joined their lair.
Tanner inhaled deeply again, filtering through the smells of rust, stale air, and must to focus better on that fake scent, trying to find a way past it to get just a brief hint of the real scent beneath it. But he hit a wall each time.
His hound was having the exact same struggle. It no doubt would have cursed a blue streak if it had the ability to speak.
A person’s inner demon could surface just enough to talk and take control. But hellbeasts, no matter the breed, couldn’t use speech to communicate; they used telepathic images or impressions. Though the entities lacked the ability to talk and had all the instincts of a predatory animal, they were more human in their way of thinking. His hound fully understood exactly what had happened to Harry, and it was mightily pissed off that it couldn’t yet do anything about it.
Tanner gave the sparse room another once-over. “There’s no sign of a struggle.” No blood spatter on the walls, no objects flung around or knocked over. “Harry’s killer must have somehow subdued him while they did this sick shit to him, but he doesn’t have any marks to suggest he was tied down.”
“What are your reaper senses picking up?” Knox asked Levi.
“Harry’s pain and fear are so prominent they’re almost tangible,” said Levi, who could read any left-over emotional vibes from death scenes. “But I can still feel faint echoes of other emotions—ones that didn’t belong to him, which means they belonged to the killer. Given the severity of the mutilation, I would have expected killing rage, battle adrenaline, or even a mild sense of satisfaction. There’s none of that. Just cold determination and an odd sense of righteousness.”
“Harry didn’t fear much,” said Knox.
“He was afraid of whoever killed him.” Levi’s nostrils flared. “What pisses me off is that we can’t confront Sloan over this without admitting that Harry was a plant.”
“We can, however, make our displeasure clear by treating his own plants to some pain.” Knox’s eyes glittered with what could only be described as bloodthirst. “And I don’t mind admitting that I’ll enjoy that.”
Tanner believed him. Knox had a well-earned reputation for being utterly merciless. But then, his breed of demon was a part of the fabric of hell, so he’d hardly be a fluffy bunny. Not many knew what breed of demon the Prime was, and Knox intended to keep it that way.
Tanner’s phone began to ring. He fished it out of his pocket and saw a familiar number flashing on the screen. He felt his jaw harden. He could admit he was somewhat tenacious and often got tunnel vision when he wanted something, but this female hellhound had him beat by a mile.
“I’m guessing that’s Eleanor,” said Levi. “You grind your teeth whenever she calls.”
“She’s not hearing my ‘no.’” Tanner canceled the call and pocketed his phone. “I honestly don’t know how I can make myself clearer.”
“Female hellhounds are persistent creatures,” said Knox. “You know that.”
Tanner did know that, so it didn’t surprise him that she wasn’t initially put-off by his refusal. But it had been three months, and she was still bugging the shit out of him.
“You’re not even in the least bit tempted by her offer?” asked Knox. “You’ve walked this Earth for a long time, Tanner. Most hellhounds your age have fathered at least four children by now. You don’t even have one.”
“It’s not like Eleanor’s asking you for a relationship—she knows that won’t happen,” said Levi. “She’s more interested in your genes. Female hellbeasts want the biggest, toughest, most badass males to father their offspring. You’re an alpha, so it can’t shock you that she’s not backing down easy.”
Tanner sighed. “Like I’ve already told both of you, I’m not interested in her offer.”
“What about your hound?” asked Knox. “Because if it’s pushing for you to start your own line—”
“It’s not.” Tanner didn’t doubt that the demon would eventually do it, though.
Male hellhounds rarely committed to one female; they tended to have children with several different partners and were content to be a perpetual bachelor—it was just the primitive way they operated. They weren’t family orientated or built for relationships; their inborn purpose was to protect and defend the gates of hell, not families or mates.