Adze was getting more and more short-tempered since Nicor had disappeared without a trace. It grew with every passing day.
"How can nobody have seen anything?" he growled.
This wasn't supposed to happen. They paired up for a reason for fuck's sake. He'd made calls to everyone he could think of in the city and so far nothing had turned up. Even the local office was coming up empty. Adze couldn't even contact Nicor through their link. It was just a big blank nothing in response. He couldn't understand why either. His team always answered through their connection when called.
The connection wasn't cut, it still vibrated with something, so that gave him hope that his friend and teammate was still alive. But that was all he had.
His mobile let out a shrill sound causing Adze to jump at the unexpected noise. Everyone else in the living room turned to stare at him. They'd all been so quiet, Adze had almost forgotten they were there. It was only ten in the morning after all, and they had been out late last night—well, this morning—searching for Nicor, incubi and mermaids.
Their wanted list was growing and getting out of hand.
Adze reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The number was unknown. He thought about ignoring it, but he couldn't bring himself to hang up. He swiped to answer the call and pressed the phone against his ear.
"Hello," he answered, maybe a little to gruffly. There was no immediate answer.
Then a tentative melodious male voice came through. "Hello. Is this the leader of the Australian hellhound pack?"
Adze stiffened and stopped his pacing. "It is. Who may I ask am I speaking to?"
"You can call me Jay."
"Jay?"
"Yes."
"That's not your real name is it?" Adze enquired.
"That's neither here nor there. You haven't said yours."
"Adze. Why won't you tell me your name and how did you get this number? What are you?" he growled. That voice. It's pure sultriness. He didn't have time for this shit, he had a packmate to find and a smuggling ring to dismantle.
He had to be part of the sup community, otherwise he wouldn't know about hellhounds.
A heavy sigh down the line was all Adze received in response. Even the sigh sounded nice.
"Tell me," he said, his voice deepened, turning menacing.
"What I am doesn't matter. It's none of your business."
Adze was about to open his mouth to say Hell knows what when Jay continued.
"What is your business is that I know where your missing hound is."
Adze tensed and felt instant relief at the same time. Finally, they were getting somewhere.
"Where is he? What have you done to him? What do you want?" he asked all at once, his tone forceful as ever.
"I haven't done anything to him, well, not on purpose anyway."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Adze snapped.
"Would you for fuck's sake stop yelling and growling at me? I'm trying to do the right thing here."
Adze took a deep breath. His worry for his friend was making him an ass… more than usual.
"Tell me where I can find him."
"He's my mate."
"The fuck you say!" Adze dropped into a chair, not thinking his legs could hold him through this conversation. Except he missed the bloody chair and ended up ass down on the floor.
When he righted himself he put the phone back to his ear.
"I said he's my mate."
"What the fuck are you?" Adze asked again. The voice made him want to trust the man, which made him not trust the unknown. "And don't bother telling me it's none of my business. It just became my fucking business."
The others were all gathered around him. He had no doubt they could all hear the conversation thanks to their expert hearing, but they were leaving it to him to handle this.
"Incubus," the soft reply came nearly thirty seconds later.
"Like fuck I'm going to let you get your hands on him. Tell me where my packmate is right now."
A deep breath came followed by a soft, "No."
Adze growled. "What the fuck do you mean 'no'?"
"No, I won't tell you. Not like this. I told you he's my mate and you don't want to respect that due to your prejudices against my kind."
"I've got my reasons."
"I'm sure you do. But still… fuck you for not even wanting to give me a chance."
"I don't know you!" Adze growled.
"Precisely. Don't bother looking for us. We're leaving the city for a while."
"You're fucking kidnapping him? You're really going out of your way to prove how trustworthy you are, aren't ya?" Adze asked sarcastically.
"Not kidnapping." He paused for a moment. "I did technically adopt him though."
Before Adze could say anything else, the line went dead in his ear.
Adze growled and threw his phone against the wall. He didn't even flinch when he heard it shatter.
Now what the fuck were they supposed to do?
Jordan hung up the phone. Furious. He'd been expecting it, but really, he'd hoped for different. He should have known better.
"Shit!" Jordan cursed when he realised he hadn't gotten his hound's name once through the entire conversation.
He'd have to come up with something soon as he couldn't keep calling him the hound.
Picking up the duffle he'd packed, he carried it to the car. He'd already packed everything else he wanted to take to the Hunter Valley before he'd made the phone call. Jordan placed the duffle in the back and closed the boot, his esky filled with the perishable foods he was taking with him in the front seat.
Jordan doubled-checked to make sure the house was locked up tight then closed the garage door behind him and headed to the vet clinic to pick up his pup.
An hour later, another million pieces of paper signed, and instruction on the care of his animal noted, they were finally back in the car and on the way out of the city. John might've laughed at the name Spot—those from Hell understood—being on the adoption papers but Jordan couldn't very well put the hound's real name down since he had none.
It would take at least two and a half hours to make it to Rothbury. Hopefully the traffic would ease once they made it through the congestion in the city and hit the freeway.
Every few minutes Jordan glanced in his mirror at the large black passenger he had lying on the back seat of his vehicle. His hound seemed to be awake at the moment, but Jordan wasn't sure how long that would last.
"What am I going to call you?" he asked. There was, not unexpectedly, no answer forthcoming. However, the hound's ears did perk up slightly.
"Okay, well, let's see. What name suits you…" Jordan paused and thought about what name a hound from hell would have.
"How about Abraxis?" Jordan asked.
The hound snorted.
"I guess not then. Okay, what about Dagon?"
To this, the hound's ears drooped and he seemed to lose interest.
"Fine, be that picky. How about Balor?" Jordan asked. "That's a good strong name."
The hound growled, his teeth and gums bared, like he would take a bite out of Jordan if he didn't take back what he said right then and there.
"Okay, okay, I get it. Balor sucks."
The hound seemed to be mollified and placed his head back down on the back seat, listening as Jordan continued to rattle off name after name.
"Damn, you're picky about your name…" Jordan paused and thought long and hard about it before he finally settled on something that he thought might suit his hound. "How about Nikker?"
The hounds head popped up and he glanced at Jordan in the mirror before licking his lips then dropping his head back down again. Was that a nod? Weird.
"Okay then. I guess that's about as good as we're going to get. I'll call you Nik for short."
He didn't get an immediate growl, so it seemed he had the hound's approval.
The drive was long and smooth, roughly a hundred and sixty clicks, the radio playing softly in the background. He'd watched as Nik's eyes had drooped then refused to stay open for a second longer as the large hound had once more succumbed to sleep.
Jordan sung along to the radio quietly, not wanting to disturb his hound. He still had trouble believing that he'd met his mate and he was a damn hellhound. And currently seemed to be stuck in his beast form.
The scenery in this part of the country was stunning. Jordan never got sick of it, no matter how many times he made this drive. It was one of the reasons he'd bought the house in the Hunter Valley to begin with.
Jordan's muscles relaxed and he breathed easier the closer he got to his home away from home. Large properties with acres of grapevines soon bordered the roads. He really loved this area. The small towns, the people, the views. Everything spoke to the artist in him. Jordan suddenly couldn't wait to get to his house and start painting.
Jordan pulled down the long gravel drive that led to his house. The brick building with a wrap-around porch sat on several acres of land. Rolling hills covered in grapevines could be seen in every direction. Jordan broke out in a grin as he pulled the car to a stop in front of his house.
Peace and quiet settled around him like a welcoming blanket as he climbed out of the car. Everything looked to be on the up and up. Jordan hired someone to clean the house and mow the lawns on a regular basis. The fresh scent of cut grass still lingered on the air as he breathed it in deeply.
Jordan opened the back door so when Nik finally woke up he wouldn't be trapped and started unpacking his belongings.
He unlocked the door to the house and walked inside carrying the esky. Once the food was packed away in the fridge, Jordan checked the cupboards and made a note of what he needed. A quick trip to the local supermarket this afternoon would be in order. He usually called before he got to the house, but he didn't want to do that today with a hellhound in his back seat.
It didn't take long to get the rest of the car unpacked.
It was time to make the most of his escape from the city.
Jordan opened up the large bifold doors which made up most of his back wall, enjoying the cool breeze that swept through his house.
He settled on the back porch with a pad and some charcoal, a pot of tea, and started to draw. He hadn't gotten very far when his large, dark hound slowly padded around the corner, head up, sniffing.
What was the hulking hound scenting? Was he hunting? Jordan carefully placed his pad and charcoal down while he waited for Nik to come closer. His hound hadn't shifted back yet so he couldn't be too cautious until he knew what they would have to deal with.
Nik sniffed the air again and glanced about himself, his ears perking when he noticed the group of kangaroos down the back of the property under the shade of a large tree. Nik seemed to wrestle within himself, dropping into a crouch then standing at alert then dropping again, before finally deciding to let them be and headed over to Jordan. He sat down at the foot of Jordan's chair and placed his head in Jordan's lap.
Scratching behind Nik's ears seemed to be what the pup wanted. His hound sighed and grew a little heavier in his lap.
"You like that?" Jordan asked.
The huff he got in response told him everything.
They sat there for god knows how long, Jordan constantly touching his hound and Nik not wanting to go anywhere.
When his stomach growled, Jordan figured it was time to actually move. Couldn't have his hound starve. Reluctantly Nik moved so Jordan could stand and he made his way inside to the kitchen. Jordan managed to put together a sandwich with the few items he'd brought with him. He made one for Nik as well and placed the plate on the ground for his hound. Nik wolfed it down, the food disappearing in seconds flat.
Jordan took his food and headed back to the patio, resuming his earlier seat. Nik didn't follow him straight away, his hound sniffed around and explored Jordan's house a little. Jordan left his mate to it.
He resumed his earlier drawing, the charcoal lightly scratching away at the paper as he worked. The dark figure of his hound fast asleep in the back of Jordan's car came into shape on the page. When he was satisfied with the drawing, he flipped it over to the back and a fresh, blank page appeared before him.
It wasn't surprising that Jordan had drawn yet another rendition of his hound. All he'd been able to concentrate on since meeting the damn sup was him.
Jordan closed his eyes and concentrated on the sounds around him. The twitter of small birds, the occasional laugh of a kookaburra, the sound of the windchimes he had hanging in the back-right corner of his porch as the breeze flowed through them, and the click of toenails on hardwood floors as his hound explored his house.
Opening his eyes once more, Jordan took in the view. It was a view he had seen many a time over the years, and one he'd drawn just as many. He never got tired of it though. The trees, the rolling hills, the grapevines, the wildlife.
Before he even registered what he was doing, his hand was once more smoothly moving over the paper in front of him. For the thousandth time in his life Jordan got lost in his art, ignoring the world around him.
A gentle nudge to his leg broke Jordan out of his trance. He shivered as he blinked rapidly. It was like those first minutes after you wake when your brain needs time to go from sleep mode to awake.
Without thinking about it Jordan reached down and scratched Nik's head. He glanced around and realised hours had passed. The sun sat low on the horizon and would be gone in another hour or so. The temperature had dropped and Jordan realized he was quite cool.
It looked like he'd missed the shops today. They'd be long closed by now. He'd have to go in the morning.
His stomach growled loudly making Jordan notice he'd only eaten half his lunch. He hated wasting food, but this wasn't going to be the last time he'd get lost in his drawings and forget to eat. Jordan grabbed his plate and artbook.
"Come on, let's go inside and start a fire."
Nik seemed to understand and followed Jordan inside. He padded into the living room and curled up on the rug in the middle.
Jordan closed the bifold doors behind him then cleaned up the few dishes they had made. Once everything was tidy and in order, he headed to the potbelly fireplace. A small stack of logs sat to the right. He checked, finding it was already laid and ready to go. There was plenty enough wood to get them through tonight. He'd restock tomorrow.
It didn't take long before the room warmed up. The soft glow from the stove comforted him in ways Jordan couldn't explain. Seeing the fire brought him closer to his youth, his days with his mother and their tribe. Fire was life.
If the temperatures dropped in the next couple of days, and they looked like they were going to, Jordan could throw a stew on the top of the potbelly and let it simmer all day long. Those always tasted the best in his opinion. And soups. Jordan loved a good soup.
Thinking about food had his stomach reminding him that he hadn't gotten sufficient intake today. He was so warm and comfy though. Nik shuffled closer, laying his head in Jordan's lap. The huge hound gave him a pitiful whine.
Regretful he had to move away from his hound, Jordan gave Nik an ear scratch then managed to get out from under the hound to make some dinner. He wouldn't starve his mate, especially when he still had no thumbs to speak of. Jordan defrosted some lamb chops he had in the freezer and pulled out a packet pasta from the cupboard.
They had to make it to the shops tomorrow.
Half an hour later Jordan's kitchen filled with the scent of French onion lamb chops with a carbonara pasta side. He removed the bones before he placed a plate on the ground for his hound. Maybe he should try seating them at the table? Jog Nik's human memories. Jordan pictured the hound at his table and snorted. No, too weird.
"Be careful, it's hot," he admonished as Nik headed right in for the food.
When his hound spat the first mouthful of food back out Jordan laughed.
"I tried to warn you. Maybe next time you'll listen to me."
Nik ignored him as he concentrated on his dinner.
Jordan climbed onto the couch, his dinner resting on a lap tray. He turned on the TV and flicked through until he found something he wanted to watch. The couch jostled when Nik jumped up and joined him. The hound sat on his own square, carefully out of Jordan's way. As soon as Jordan placed his tray to the side, though, Nik scooted closer, resting his head once more in Jordan's lap.
"What am I going to do with you?" he asked quietly, not expecting an answer but wishing his mate could talk back.
Instead of answering Nik rolled over and exposed his belly for scratches. Jordan laughed. He gave gentle scritches as he ran his hand over his hound, absently watching TV.
Without being able to communicate, Jordan had no idea how much pain his hound was still in. He knew the creatures healed faster than normal. But he had no idea what that rate was, and he didn't know if that included them being stuck in their hound form or only when they were in their human form.
Jordan wasn't about to call Adze again. Not after the last phone call.
For now, he'd be gentle until it looked like his hound wasn't in any pain. Nik's back leg started kicking lightly and Jordan chuckled. Didn't seem to matter the species, if you scratched that one spot on the bellies, they kicked.
Jordan kept scratching.
When the fire dimmed, Jordan turned off the television and headed for the doors. As comfortable as he was on the lounge, he wasn't going to stay there all night, and Nik had to go out, at least for a little while. It wasn't like he could use the toilet. Jordan chuckled quietly to himself as a mental image of Nik attempting to use the bathroom flashed in his head.
Nik didn't hesitate and toddled off outside to relieve himself. Jordan left the door open and cleaned up the dishes from dinner. When Nik walked back inside and looked expectantly at Jordan, he locked up the house.
The click of nails on the wood floor followed Jordan as he headed to the bedroom.
Jordan rifled through his small wardrobe and grabbed a pair of boxer briefs before he headed to the bathroom. He kept his shower brief, too exhausted after the last few days. All Jordan wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for a week.
When Jordan re-entered his bedroom, clothed in nothing but his underwear, he was surprised to see Nik still sitting on the ground, staring up at the bed with desperate longing.
"What's the matter pup? Can't make the jump?" Jordan asked him.
Nik whined low in his throat so Jordan headed over to help the poor guy out. His hound placed his front two paws on the bed and Jordan bent down to lift up his back legs. Once the beast was fully on the bed, he sniffed, circled a couple of times then curled up in a ball.
"Oh, no you don't!" Jordan admonished. "That's my side of the bed, you can bloody well move over!"
Nik ignored him and Jordan growled at the damn animal. Not giving up, Jordan turned out the lights and headed to his side of the bed. He lifted the covers and scooched in, pushing Nik over as he went. Jordan had never had to fight so much for his sleeping space before.
"Stubborn bloody hound," he bitched.
Jordan received a long tongue bath for his troubles.
"Ewww." Jordan wiped his face. "Not cool dude! I just had a shower!"
Jordan laughed as Nik went to lick him again, but he was quicker and playfully pushed his hound away.
Usually Jordan would do something to wind down once he crawled into bed, whether that was watching some TV, or playing some mindless game on his iPad, or even picking up a small sketch pad and doodling for a little while. Tonight though, he didn't feel like doing any of that, instead he curled up on his side, the weight of the massive hound beside him, strangely comforting, and closed his eyes.
The hound stared at the human next to him. The man looked so familiar to him, but not, all at the same time, and he couldn't understand why. A whine escaped, low and imperceptible to the sleeping man. He felt the need to comfort him so he placed his head and a paw on the human's chest. He heard the sorrow in his voice when he talked sometimes. A voice that pretty shouldn't be sad.
Maybe he needed "Nik", as the human called him, to protect him. Deciding that was an issue for another day, the hound snuggled up against the nice-smelling human, happy to be on such a soft and cushiony surface and closed his eyes.