Chapter Twenty-Five

It was like watching someone play a video game. One of those first-person perspectives where the arms enter the screen and show a weapon. I hate those, by the way. So annoying. This was even worse. Because it was real.

The Hounds had crept up to the Host house and entered without being seen. At first, they used daggers to dispatch the people they encountered. Each death was swift and quiet, but that was because they had the element of surprise and no one fought back.

But then they came across a group and the quiet was broken with a shout. It was then that their true prowess shone.

My stare shot from feed to feed as the men spun, kicked, and shot off rounds from their guns with impressive precision. A strange feeling came over me, sort of liquid and full of awe but also horror. The horror was over the fact that I was so fucking turned on by the violence. My brain said it was awful. My brain said these people had been conned and deserved mercy. My brain said—

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” I growled at my brain as I watched Darius punch a man in the chest and send him crashing into a wall so hard that the wall cracked. “Holy fuck.”

They were beasts even in their man forms. No, not beasts. Warriors. Which was just another word for talented killers. Hades had chosen their souls from the multitudes in the Underworld because they possessed—bear with me as I turn into Liam Neeson for a second—a certain set of skills. Those skills had been chained by divine law, allowing only a portion to be used. The lifting of the law broke those chains and released the Kraken. Or the Cerberus, rather.

That being said, the Host wasn't defenseless or without skill. They shot at the Hounds. Stabbed them. Punched them. But with my magic in place, none of those attacks landed. Bullets pinged away, knife tips skidded off them as if hitting metal, and punches rebounded. But the Host kept coming. Even after getting shot, they'd climb to their feet and come back for another go.

Oh, yeah, those first kills? The quiet ones? They didn’t exactly take. Those people came running down the hallway, their clothes soaked in blood but otherwise fine.

“Take their heads!” Darius shouted.

“Already ahead of you,” Dominic said.

Darius's body cam swung to show me Dom, his hands around a man's head. He twisted sharply and broke the guy's neck.

“Get it? I'm a- head of you?” Then Dominic frowned and twisted more. “Shit. It's hard to get one of these off.”

“Use your knife!” Darius snapped.

“Do you know how long it will take to hack off a head with a little dagger?” Dominic shot back. “Next time, we bring swords.”

“There will be no next time because we're ending this tonight,” Declan said, his voice coming through my feed and their earpieces. “Now stop bickering and start slicing!”

“Damn it,” Dominic muttered as he balanced the limp body against his leg and drew a dagger. The body started to twitch just seconds before Dom made the first slice across its throat.

I looked away and my disgust was a relief. It wasn't the violence that was arousing me. It was the talent of these men. Their virility. That's a big difference. Being attracted to a man's virility was natural. Being attracted to the blood he spilled was psycho.

I had to turn off the audio because even the sound of Dominic hacking through the man's neck was enough to turn my stomach. And in that silence, as if it had been waiting for my attention, came the buzz of a phone call.

I looked over at my phone in surprise. Then I saw it was the bar. “Shit!” I grabbed the phone and answered it, “Hello?”

“Amélie!” Jackie shrieked. “You need to come in. Now!”

“What's wrong?”

“That guy is back. The one you threw out.”

“You mean the one Devin threw out?”

“Devin? What are you talking about?”

I blinked. “You don't remember Devin helping me?”

“No. You called for Wreck-It, and he tossed the guy out on his ass.”

Oh, that's right. Devin had whammied the bar.

“Whatever,” Jackie went on. “The guy is here, and he's brought a bunch of people with him. They're all strong. Crazy strong. And they're holding a knife to Ralph's throat. They're gonna kill him if you don't get here in fifteen minutes.”

“Call the police, Jackie,” I said as if that were obvious.

“Oh, why haven't I thought of that?” she growled. “Maybe because I'm fucking surrounded.”

There was a shuffling sound and then a man came on the phone. “Hello, Amélie. Your friendly neighborhood god isn't here to save your bar this time.”

“Michael,” I hissed.

“That's right. You're not going to sacrifice your friends to stay safe are you?”

I looked at the monitor. The Hounds were doing fine. Bloody, but fine. They had my magic protecting them and weren't hobbled by a god law anymore. But to finish this, truly finish it, they needed to take Michael back to the Underworld. Even then, there would be Silas to deal with. So, this probably wasn't going to end tonight, despite their confidence.

“I'll be there soon.” I hung up, still staring at the video feed, then sighed deeply. They weren't going to be happy. Clicking on the microphone, I grimaced, then said, “Michael is at Hair of the Dog. He's got my employees, and he's threatening to kill one of them unless I show up in fifteen minutes.”

The action slowed.

“What?” Dominic snarled.

“You heard me,” I said. “I've got to go.”

“No, you don't!” Darius shouted. “You stay put, Amélie! We'll go.”

“You can go, but I have to go too.” I clicked off the microphone and got up. I didn't have the time to argue.

“Amélie!” Darius shouted. “Amélie!”

But I was already leaving the room.