Page 19 of All Good Dogs Go to Hades (The Hounds of Hades #5)

The next morning, Ace texted to ask if I was awake and ready to receive my suitor. How adorable is that?

I gleefully got dressed, pushing aside any lingering thoughts—especially guilty or concerned thoughts—about my Cerberus, and went downstairs to greet my suitor.

He was knocking by the time I reached the bottom step.

I opened my door and there he was. Those hell doggies were hot; I'd give them that.

But Ace was stirring up feelings in me that they didn't. It had to be his manner.

Charisma. Oh, I know, maybe it was because he didn't break into my house in the middle of the night or stalk me.

In short, Ace knew how to treat a lady, and that held more weight than three handsome faces and bodies to match.

“Hi,” I said.

“Good morning.” Ace inclined his head. “I've already taken Bruno on his walk, so we're ready for breakfast. Are you hungry?”

“Oh, yes.”

He took my hand and it, like everything else I did with him, felt familiar.

Comfortable. Easy. Safe. I locked the door one-handed, not wanting to let go of him, and we went down to his car where it was parked in front of my house.

Ace opened my door, of course, and I slid in to greet Bruno, who was in the back.

In seconds, Ace was in the driver's seat, smiling at me. “Ready?”

“Absolutely.”

We drove off. As he made a U-turn at the end of my street—where the park was—I noticed a man standing under a tree. No, not a man. A hound. I stuck my tongue out at Jake, then gave Ace a smile full of sugar and spice and everything nice.

I don't know why I thought I could give the Hounds the slip.

They were dogs. Trackers. And I was their destined mate.

They could find me anywhere. And they did.

At breakfast, throughout our stroll along the Mississippi, when we took Bruno home, and even at the lunch William and Jane Goldring invited us to.

Everywhere I went, I saw a hound. Somewhere on the sidelines. Watching.

And not only them.

At first, I thought I was being paranoid. But then I saw Cyrus chase one of the other watchers. I know that sounds ominous, but that's how it felt. There were non-hound people watching Ace and me. And occasionally, they'd attack a hound. Or a hound would attack them.

It happened so subtly that the first incident didn't register.

Then it happened again. I realized after a while that these people weren't watching Ace and me at all.

They were after the hounds. They had to be a part of that army Hades had told me about.

The one his enemy was gathering. Silas—that was his name.

He was the god I was supposed to unmask.

Damn. How had I forgotten that? And I had a personal reason to find Silas.

I just couldn't remember what it was. No, wait.

It was a who, not a what. My reason for hunting Silas had something to do with a woman.

But who was she? Why couldn't I remember?

Oh, there went another Silas-soldier. Every altercation I noticed was over in a matter of seconds, ending with the hound dragging the unconscious human off into the bushes or leaning them against an alley wall.

This last one got propped against a lamppost before Jake glared at Ace, then at me, and then walked off as casual as you please.

Unbelievable.

How many of Silas's people were in New Orleans? The city seemed saturated with them. And why weren't they ganging up on the hounds? You'd think they'd learn after the first few times that hounds don't go down easily.

“I thought you weren't interested in romance?” Mrs. Goldring whispered to me, pulling me out of my dark musings and back to lunch.

“When you meet the right one, all plans fly out the window,” I said.

She smiled and looked at her husband. “That's how it was with us. I had several suitors when I met Billy, but they all vanished for me after our first date.”

“And how did you two meet?” Mr. Goldring asked Ace.

“Well, sir, she hit me with her car,” Ace drawled.

“What?” William asked, laughing.

“I sure did,” I admitted. Looking at Jane, I added, “I was backing out of my driveway and didn't see him. Thankfully, I wasn't going too fast, but it was enough to knock him over. When I came out of the car, I found Ace on the ground, curled around his puppy, Bruno.”

“Oh, my gracious!” Jane pressed her hand to her heart. “Was the poor thing all right?”

“Bruno was fine, ma'am,” Ace said.

“Because you protected him!” Jane fanned the same hand at him. “Aren't you the most adorable thing?”

“She wasn't going very fast.” Ace shrugged. “I knew I'd be fine, but Bruno's still little. If he got under her tire, it could have been bad. So I dove for him. Automatic reaction.”

“Well, no wonder you won the admiration of our fair lady here.” William waved his hand at me. “I knew it would take something dramatic to break through her shell. She all but growled at every eligible bachelor who approached her at our little soiree.”

“Oh?” Ace looked at me.

“That's not saying much.” I grimaced. “The men at the auction were full of themselves and terribly boring.” I waved at Goldring. “Present company excluded, of course.”

William burst out laughing. “I have to agree.

I only invited them because the proceeds went to charity, and I knew they had the money to spend.

They have to give a certain amount to charity every year for tax purposes, and it's always better to get something in return than to make a straight donation.”

“I don't believe purchasing art counts towards a tax write-off.” Ace leaned forward as if hoping to be proved wrong.

“Oh, but it does if you pay more than 'fair market value' for the piece and if the proceeds go to charity,” William said.

“Oh, here we go,” Jane drawled.

“He's interested, cher.” William shrugged and went on, “And here's the thing about art, young man—fair market value is determined by a piece's current worth. So, if you buy a piece from an up-and-coming artist who hasn't been established yet . . .”

“The fair market value is low.” Ace smacked the table. “But what it goes for at auction will be higher because of all the collectors.”

“Yes. You still might score some art at a great price, but it will be more than the Internet says it's worth. And so, whatever dollar amount more than that fair market price that you pay can be used as a tax write off.”

“What I'm hearing you say is that I need to invest in more art.”

“Give me your card. I'll invite you to the next auction.”

“I'd be much obliged.” Ace pulled out a business card and handed it to Goldring.

I realized then that I hadn't bothered to ask what Ace did for a living. When you don't want to discuss your livelihood, you're less inclined to ask about someone else's.

“You're that Pouderoux?” William asked in surprise.

“Which Pouderoux?” Jane asked.

“Pouderoux as in the pharmaceutical company, cherie.” William handed his wife the card, then looked back at Ace. “How have we never met?”

Ace shrugged. “I don't care for mucking it up with the upper crust. No offense.”

William laughed. “Son, if I didn't have to, I wouldn't either. I admire you for staying out of the spotlight. You took over from your daddy not too long ago, right?”

“I'm flattered that you know so much about my family,” Ace said. “Yes, I did.”

“If I recall correctly, he didn't much like socializing either,” Jane said.

“Now, my father loved socializing.” Ace grinned and leaned back in his chair for the server to set down his plate.

After a quick thank you to the server, he went on, “But only with his closest friends.

People he could trust. He never let a person's bank account influence his opinion of them.

I learned that from him. Most of my friends are men I've known for years.”

“Good for you. My closest friends are those I met in school.”

“Yes, except he went to a private school. So all of his friends are rich,” Jane added. “Billy likes to act as if he's come up from nothin', but don't let him fool you. Same as you, he inherited his company.”

“I'm not ashamed of that!” William tsked his wife.

“I dunno,” I said in a sing-song tone. “I recall you saying something to me about working hard in the past, so you don't have to work now.”

“Oh, you wound me, cher.” William held a hand to his heart. “I did work in the past. Just because I inherited my job, it doesn't mean I didn't put my all into it. I worked very hard, and I made Sazerac into what it is today. Now, I'm retired. My children oversee most of the operations.”

“Most,” huffed Jane. “He still sticks his nose in.”

“Well, it is my company. And I'm not dead yet, sugah.”

I lifted my iced tea. “To not giving up control until you're dead.”

“Wooee! I like that!” William clinked my glass while the other two laughed.

Just as I took a sip, I saw Cyrus staring at me from one of the other tables, his hand around the base of a glass. His eyes narrowed as if he'd heard my toast and didn't approve. He certainly didn't lift his glass to me. Which only made me more rebellious. I leaned over and kissed Ace's cheek.

A crack came, and I spun to see Cyrus shaking glass shards and liquid off his hand. Most of that liquid was whatever he'd been drinking, but some of it was blood. The server rushed over to help clean the mess and fuss over Cyrus's wounded hand while the rest of the restaurant gaped at the display.

But even with the server bustling about him, Cyrus stared only at me.

“Do you know that man?” Ace asked.

Blinking out of my Cyrus-trance, I looked at Ace. “No. I have no idea who he is.”