Page 14 of How to Hack a Hellhound (Hellhounds of Paradise Falls #2)

Chapter 14

Liam

“ W ell that’s just gross,” Quinton murmured as Todd peed himself.

I agreed. I had tried to keep bodily fluids to a minimum for my little hellcat since he was apparently squeamish. It didn’t take much to get Todd talking, at least, and Quinton hadn’t seemed to mind the light beating or the various threats of torture.

Quinton was actually rather inventive with torture ideas—he had threatened to cut off Todd’s dick and shove it down his throat, rip out his tongue, pull off each of his fingernails, and cut open his sack and remove his testicles to juggle with them (he had turned around and made a vomiting face at me when he threatened that one, and it had been quite difficult not to laugh).

Quinton seemed to enjoy the threatening part, and my hellcat definitely let his claws out on poor Todd. I didn’t blame him in the least for not wanting to get those claws dirty. After all, that’s what I was for.

“I think we have enough for now,” I stated, wrinkling my nose at the smell of urine and leading Quinton over to the stairs.

Quinton looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “Are you gonna come back down and torture him some more later while I’m sleeping?”

“If you’d like,” I said as we started upstairs. “He’s hellbound, and it wouldn’t be a hardship. And honestly, once he’s dead, the really horrific torture will start. I typically don’t do much wet work—it’s very messy—but if you have any requests or want me to carry out any of your threats, it can be arranged.”

Quinton gagged a little at that, which made me smile. He was so cute.

If he didn’t want to see messy torture, that suited me just fine. I didn’t much enjoy making a mess of things. Psychological torture, like the threats Quinton had given out, had been quite effective, especially since Todd seemed to sense that I would do anything my little hellcat wanted.

With James’s disappearance, Todd had been promoted in the human trafficking ring. His final decision to try to kill me and kidnap Quinton had sealed his soul’s hellbound fate. Unfortunately for us, he hadn’t learned very much in his short time in the more inner circle. He had a contact, just like James, and I could only hope that we could surprise this one and get him in for an interrogation before he went off the grid.

“So what’s next? Going after his contact, I’m assuming?” Quinton asked as we reached the kitchen.

Corbin was lounging in one of the chairs, feeding a crow. He gave us both a nod. “Would you like assistance? Dexter is with Toby, and Jude went over to keep Aiden company. And to steal some baked goods, I think.”

I looked speculatively at Corbin, then turned to face Quinton. He had every right to want to be a part of this, but at the same time, I thought about his mortality. Breaking into a hellbound soul’s home presented a bit more danger than going to a club.

Quinton sighed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, Sexy Stalker, I’m not going to insist on going with you to capture the bad guys. I don’t expel bullets, and tasers and pepper spray do not sound like a good time to me.”

“You got tased? Lucky,” Corbin murmured from the table. “Bullets are no fun, though.”

I ignored him. “I’ll bring him back here if you’d like to be in on the interrogation. Hopefully he’ll have a few more leads for us.”

“I want you to burn it all down,” Quinton insisted. “Every last fucker who had any part in this.”

Corbin cleared his throat loudly from the table, and his crow even cawed. It was a different bird from earlier, I thought. Sometimes I could tell by the caws.

“What do you have to say, Crow Daddy?” Quinton snapped, turning to stare at him.

I tried not to laugh, and Corbin and his crow both looked disgruntled.

“It’s just that human trafficking is sort of like human snot when you get sick. You blow and blow, and more just keeps coming. It’s almost impossible to get rid of it entirely, because more just gets made before you can clean out what was there to start,” Corbin explained.

“Well that’s a fucking gross analogy,” Quinton said.

“Gross, but true. And tracing human trafficking back to its source would require leaving the country. It would also be like trying to trace the origin of the cold from its original infector.” Corbin shrugged and the crow hopped up onto his shoulder, staring at Quinton.

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Quinton snapped, looking at me.

“Chances are that this ring is part of a bigger ring,” I explained. “We can probably trace down the people who are connected to this area and shut that down, but there are layers. Shutting down this layer won’t shut down all the other layers. The victims are more than likely not kept on US soil—traffickers often smuggle them out of the country.”

“So, what, we shut it down in this area, but then whoever was already kidnapped is just shit out of luck? We can’t save anyone?” he asked.

“Not at all. There are hellhounds in other territories. I have contacts across the globe, and once we start learning who some of the victims are and where they went, we’ll put other packs on it. We’ll work to shut down this layer, and we’ll give the other layers to people who are familiar with those areas,” I reasoned.

Quinton frowned, thinking it over. “You have a list of a couple of the missing guys already from your internet sleuthing. You think they can be found?”

“I do,” I answered. “I think we can shut it down here, recover who we can, and pass it along to the next pack to handle. It’s what we tend to do.”

I didn’t know what shape those men would be in, but I didn’t mention that to Quinton. I also didn’t think we’d have that many victims from this area. The nearby city wasn’t huge, and an extensive operation wouldn’t have gone unnoticed by the humans. I had confidence that with my skills and connections, we could find out what happened to those people who were taken.

Quinton looked at me. “It could’ve been me, Liam. It could be someone I danced with or even hooked up with out there going through god knows what. I don’t want to leave them out there if we can save them.”

“We won’t,” I promised, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

He breathed out. “Alright. You and Corbin go get this guy. Get names if you can. Let me know what happens. I don’t need to watch the ‘wet work,’ because that’s just gross, but I want to know everything he says. Ok? And I’m helping you do the computer shit.”

I kissed his lips lightly. “Of course, my little hellcat.”

I think he actually hissed at me (so adorable), and then he was turning and heading out the door.

I walked to a window and watched as he made his way to the other property, and when I heard the door slam shut I turned around to face Corbin.

He was smiling, and the crow was hopping excitedly along his shoulder. “Time to hunt.”

“Best bagels in town,” Corbin stated, taking a bite of his bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich.

I rumbled in agreement. There was nothing like a good breakfast sandwich after a night of torture. This shop was the best—the bagel was fresh, the egg perfectly fried, the cheese melty, and the bacon not too crispy but not fatty. Still, nothing beat Cass’s shop for coffee and Aiden’s pastries.

Corbin hadn’t wanted to venture over there, though, and possibly get a million questions. Cassius was a nosy oracle, and he was still probably bitter that we’d rehomed Aiden and Quinton. So instead, we had come here, and we were sitting on a picnic table outside the bagel shop, eating breakfast and watching the sun rise. The only thing that could make the morning more perfect would be if Quinton were by my side.

“You think your mate will be happy with what we got?” Corbin asked.

Rather than answer him, I looked over. “Mate?” I asked.

“Probably,” Corbin shrugged.

Well, that was about as helpful as a pop-up ad on a website. I sighed and thought about the info we had. Our hellbound soul had quite a few names for us, and I was able to track down a decent amount of information through his computers while Corbin did some wet work.

Corbin was right that most of the victims went off the grid to a third-party seller. Apparently only one guy had the information for the third-party seller. That guy also happened to be one of the ones who gave them the victim types, and sometimes even chose the victims—probably based on what sellers were looking for.

Unfortunately for us, this contact knew enough to stay anonymous. So we had a list of seven guys to hunt down who were involved in the ring, and that appeared to be our current layer. It probably wouldn’t be too hard, especially if everyone pitched in. We could finish that in a night or two.

The problem was finding out exactly who the contact was so we could trace them to the third-party seller. Our guy from last night was sure that no one in the circle knew. Those guys did all the messy work, drugging people and delivering them to locations, but they were all puppets being told what to do. They handed over people and got cash for it.

“I think Quinton will want to find the contact person,” I finally answered.

“Especially if he wants to find the victims,” Corbin commented.

“Yeah. They are the key to tracing the victims and finding the next layer of the ring. Taking down this layer will be easy, but the contact can just set up shop elsewhere. All the guys we’re getting so far are just expendable muscle,” I mused.

Corbin finished his last bite and hopped up. I followed suit, heading to the car. I was suddenly itchy to get back to Quinton. I hoped to catch him before his shift at the coffee shop.

We drove back in silence, enjoying the dawning morning and the peace of town. Corbin offered to fill in the other guys, and I agreed. He knew where I was heading when we stopped the car.

It wasn’t until I got to the door that I hesitated. I didn’t want to startle Aiden, and I could hear footsteps inside, so I guessed he was up. Was I supposed to knock? Usually I just walked in, but they were expecting me, or Aiden was in his room and I was coming to see Quinton.

I didn’t have long to ponder before the door was pulled open.

“Hey Creepy Stalker, you can come in,” Aiden said, turning and walking back towards the kitchen. He kept talking as he walked. “I got up early to head into the shop and get some baking done, and Cass is picking me up. Q has off today, so he’s still sleeping.”

“Ah, ok,” I answered. Then, because I couldn’t help myself, I added, “I was upgraded to Sexy Stalker days ago.”

Aiden just laughed. “Yes, you were. But I’m not calling you that. And you were creeping outside the door, so it seemed to fit.”

“I didn’t want to startle you,” I admitted.

Aiden’s face softened. “I appreciate that. I appreciate all you guys, just so you know. You’re looking out for us, and you don’t expect anything in return. And I know Q has all sorts of walls up, but he really appreciates you all too. Especially you.”

Aiden handed me some type of pastry, and although I had just eaten, I certainly wouldn’t turn down Aiden’s baked goods. We both ate in silence for a minute. I thought about Corbin saying Aiden was pack, too. Quinton felt like he was mine, but I also felt a kinship with Aiden. I did want to protect him.

I had information about Aiden, and I didn’t want to upset him, but he probably needed to know. This was the problem with humans. You never knew how much to tell them or how they would react. But Aiden had been reasonable about everything so far, even if I knew he had a lot of trauma.

“They’re looking for you,” I told Aiden.

His face paled, his eyes widened, and the air left his lungs in a rush. Well, shit. Apparently this was one of those things I maybe shouldn’t have told him.

“Who?” he whispered, although he seemed to know.

“Your blood relations. Toby has told us all that is not what constitutes ‘family,’ and they don’t seem very familial,” I answered.

“I…” Aiden trailed off and sat in his seat. He looked towards Quinton’s bedroom, and his eyes got wet.

“I know this is distressing news,” I said, unsure how to make him feel better. Perhaps I should call for Quinton? Or even, god forbid, Toby? Surely another human could deal with the tears better than me.

“You’ll take care of him, right? When I’m gone?” Aiden asked.

I was confused for a split second, and then I was angry. Aiden thought he should leave? Was that why he was distressed? Of all the idiotic, human stupidities…

“Aiden, where the fuck do you think you’re going?” I asked, and yes, maybe I was a wee bit angry. But really, we were hellhounds , for demon’s sake. “Do you think we can’t protect you? Did you really think a few humans, no matter how wealthy or dangerous, are any match for us?” I growled.

“Uhh…” Aiden started, staring at my eyes.

Well, yes, I’m sure they were on fire, but really. “I’m sorry, but it’s rather insulting that you have so little faith in us,” I muttered, trying to get myself under control.

Aiden was speechless, but at least some of his color had come back.

“Like we can’t handle ourselves,” I muttered. “Like dealing with your blood relations is beyond our ability. It’s completely absurd. I could bankrupt their accounts tomorrow. I could hack my way into their databases and cause them utter havoc. Never mind the fact that you act like I can’t hide your whereabouts. Do you think I’m that much of an amateur?”

Aiden mumbled something, but I was on a bit of a rant now. “And really, do you think Quinton would just let you run off? Do you think any of us would just let you go it alone? Corbin said you’re pack now, and he would know. And you’re certainly Quinton’s pack, and Quinton is mine , so that means you’re ours . So if you go somewhere or sneak off into the night to try and spare us trouble”—I snorted at the thought, because we loved trouble—“then I will hunt you down and bring you back. Is that clear?”

Aiden was still staring at me, and his mouth was open a little bit.

Hmm, maybe that was a bit much. I remembered a bit belatedly that Aiden had been traumatized. Maybe I came on too strong?

“Of course, I would hunt you down in a very nice way and bring you back willingly,” I said, nodding. “Toby always says consent is important. And if you didn’t want to come back then we’d all just follow you around or something. Although we like it here, so we’d all prefer it if you'd stay.”

Aiden still didn’t answer me. I wasn’t sure where else to go with the conversation. Had I broken him? Could you break humans with bad news? Did they short circuit like computers? It did seem he was frozen. Was there a human reset button? Did he need a hard reboot?

“Should I wake Quinton?” I asked. “I’m unsure how to handle your current distress.”

But Aiden’s eyes got teary again at that, he walked around the kitchen island to me, and he pulled me into a tight hug.

I stood frozen, unsure what to do. I finally hesitantly put a hand up to gently pat his back.

“This is… awkward,” I stated.

“Shut up, Creepy Stalker. You’re getting a hug. ‘Humans’ do that sort of thing,” he mumbled into my shirt. He pulled away and wiped his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Ok. Ok then. I knew they were probably looking, but I still panicked. But I’m ok now, and I’m not going anywhere. Ok?”

“Yes, that is preferable,” I told him.

“Does anyone else know?” he asked me.

“I have been informed that disclosing information I find from ‘spying’ on people who are not evil is not to be shared with anyone,” I replied stiffly. Toby had been quite firm about that fact.

Aiden breathed out again, nodding. “Ok. I’m ok.”

There was a lot of repetition of ok, and I wasn’t sure if that meant he was actually ok or he wasn’t actually ok but he was saying he was.

Humans. So difficult.

I heard a car outside, and Aiden smiled at me. “That’s Cass. I’m gonna go bake, and I have therapy later, so I’ll be ok. I was just surprised, even though I shouldn’t have been. Plus Cass will probably say something to cheer me up, because he always seems to know when I need it.”

Aiden gave me another brief hug—it was still odd, but it wasn’t bad—and then he walked out the door, shutting it behind him. I heard Cass’s voice say good morning and Aiden get in the car, at which point I turned around to head into Quinton’s room.

Only Quinton was standing in his doorway, looking at me. “Well, that’s an interesting sight to wake up to,” he mumbled.

He was adorable, all mussed up from sleeping, his chest bare and his sweatpants slung low on his hips. He also looked pissy, but I wasn’t sure if that was because Aiden had hugged me or because that was his morning face. I didn’t think he would be jealous of a hug, but Quinton did like to be unpredictable.

Rather than say more, however, he shuffled off to the bathroom, ignoring me completely and shutting the door behind him. I heard him pee, flush, and then wash his hands before he stumbled back out.

He looked at me, looked at the clock, looked at the door, mumbled, “Too early,” and stumbled back into his bedroom.

Decisions. If mornings were for caffeine and sass, I could make him coffee and bring it in, or I could go in and face the possibility of a thorough sassing. I enjoyed being sassed by Quinton, so that certainly wouldn’t be a hardship.

As I followed him into the bedroom, I tried not to think about what else mornings were sometimes for.