The weeks have gone by quickly or slowly, depending on your perspective.
We’ve had no contact with the three Hellhounds nor have there been any police calls from the humans. It’s as if they fell down the hole they crawled out of and I’m not completely sure how I feel about it.
On one hand, I’m relieved that I don’t have to worry about the safety of my sisters. I don’t have to worry that some hellfire wielding beast is after them. But on the other hand, I’m slightly, marginally, just a teeny tiny bit disappointed.
Okay, I’m completely disappointed. I think a good dog fight would have been amazing. I’ve never had the blood of a dog before but I wouldn’t mind getting a taste of Green’s fiery blood.
“You’re going to blow yourself up if you keep mixing potions like that. Where’s your head at, Roxy?”
Rory’s voice pulls me out of my musings.
“You’re one to talk, Ror. You broke the vials yesterday but you didn’t see me complaining.”
Rory opens her mouth for a comeback but I toss my blade between them, nailing the post behind them. Truth is, we’ve all been a little off our rockers since the Hound brothers disappeared and I for one am done being a simping bitch.
“Let’s go out!” I clap my hands and try to put a little Roxy flavor into the suggestion. Rox always gets her way when she’s all bubbly about something.
“No way, Ron. Those hellfire dogs could be anywhere just waiting for a chance to strike.”
“Don’t be a chicken shit, Rory. You’ve never run from a fight before, why now?”
I know I sound like a tantrum throwing brat but seriously? What is she so scared of? Three dogs are nothing for us. We once fought a rogue group of Blood Crows who were part of a rebellious faction. They believed they’d find salvation in starvation.
The five male Blood Crows were gone in the head, madness having taken over, and they began slaughtering humans without care. After my sister and I contained them, the elders took over.
That’s the thing with the elders, they let us do their dirty work yet they still see all Blood Crows as the lowest kind of all supernaturals. Sentencing the Blood Crows to eternal damnation in Hell was a bit of an over kill if you ask me.
Seems that justice is always corrupt, no matter the race.
“She’s not running from a fight, she’s using it as an excuse to hide from that sexy man she’s been panting over.” Roxy tosses a vial stopper at Rory’s head in her frustration and the little cork splatters goo across her brow.
Roxy and I howl in laughter, holding our stomachs at the homicidal gleam in Rory’s eye.
“Fine, you two little rodents want to go out, let’s go out but we’re going to Club Libidine.” Rory wipes her brow, gathering the gunk and rushes over to Roxy, rubbing her hand against Roxy’s lips.
Whatever the substance was made of it makes Roxy’s lips puff up bigger, making her natural bee stung lips look like Botox gone wrong.
I want to puke and laugh.
Laughing wins over especially when Roxy starts screaming and cursing in a rage. Even her screams are muffled behind those burger buns. The effects will wear off in a few minutes so she’s freaking out over nothing.
I run out of the kitchen just as Roxy pulls out her daggers, looking to kill Rory.
Once I’m in my room I pick my outfit for the club.
Libidine is the hottest supernatural club in Nola. Latin forlust,Libidine is a sex club slash rave club. The owner, Mayfly, is a Nymph who has a wicked taste for Blood Crow, male or female. He has often tried to seduce my sisters and I but being bounty hunters for the Elders has allotted us certain potions that block hypnosis of any sort.
It’s helpful against Mayfly and his seductions which is damn good too because if he likes how you taste, he’ll tie you to him. Similarly to a mate binding but not quite.
Mates.
The word makes me think of Green eyes. I wonder where he went and if Rory is right and they’re lying in wait for us to slip up.
I let out a growl and shove thoughts of Hellhounds to the back of my mind. Tonight I’m going to get fucked up, take some mushrooms and drink some spiked blood.
I grab my black slingshot bodysuit, blood red bondage leggings and black nightshade lace skirt then pair the outfit with my Scream Queen platform boots. The strappy outfit is very fucking revealing but at a blood rave, the less clothing, the better.
Two hours later, I’m snorting lines of Insania. A pink powder drug created with herbs and a special plant that only grows for witches. It’s a mild hallucinogen and a major upper but ingest too much and you’ll go insane, hence the Latin name. You’ll begin to see hallucinations of your worst fears but these feel so real that you can’t talk yourself down from the high.