Page 20 of How to Hack a Hellhound (Hellhounds of Paradise Falls #2)

Chapter 20

Liam

“ S o how exactly did you mark and mate him?” I asked Dexter.

“Ummm, well…” He trailed off and sort of shrugged.

I resisted the urge to bang my head against my desk. I’d spent most of the morning following money trails, and when Dexter had come in, it seemed the perfect time to do some research on permanently tying Quinton to me.

Of course, I’d discuss it with him first. That was the polite thing to do. I knew consent was important. But he’d opened up to me this morning, and he’d told me he loved me. Twice. I didn’t think Quinton said that to very many people, if anyone.

“You don’t know, do you,” I sighed.

“Well… I mean… I didn’t even know we could do that? So when Cass told me it was done, I didn’t really know when or how or anything.” Dexter shrugged.

“And you never asked?” For fuck’s sake. Dexter was like dealing with a computer that had way too many applications running at once—slow, unreliable, and glitchy.

“Umm… no?” he answered. “Maybe Toby knows, though. He likes to know that sort of stuff. He might have asked Cassius. But he’s writing right now, and he’s right in the middle of having an evil soul tortured by a hellhound, so I don’t want to interrupt him.

“Dexter,” I growled out.

“What? Art imitates life,” he said.

I put my forehead down then, gently banging it against my desk. I loved Dexter, and I loved Toby, but really, the two of them were like absent-minded meets airheaded. I wasn’t even sure which was which at this point—it was like they switched up the roles and took turns.

My head was resting on my desk when I swear I heard Quinton’s voice utter my name, and then I felt a sharp tug in my chest.

I gasped, lifting my head up and holding the skin above my heart. Something was wrong.

Dexter straightened up immediately, getting his business face on. “What is it?” he said, sniffing the air.

“I don’t know. Something is wrong with Quinton.” I pulled up my tracking app. Quinton’s phone was still at the coffee shop, but it looked like it was out back. Why would Quinton be out back, and why wasn’t he moving? I pulled up the tracker on his keys, but they were in the shop. His wallet was out back with his phone. “Get Cassius on the phone, now,” I demanded.

Dexter was pulling out his cell phone when mine rang. I snatched it up and hit the answer button.

“I didn’t realize it would be so soon or I would have warned you. I thought it was days in the future, not today ,” Cassius babbled. “If I’d known it was today , I would have, I don’t know, I would have warned you somehow. But I couldn’t warn you too much because if I warned you too much or if you were here or if Q knew then it wouldn’t happen, and if it didn’t happen then you would never catch the other guy because he’s super smart, and if he thought he was made he was gonna disappear into the sunset, and Q is his last loose end so he’s gotta take care of that.”

It was one long stream of information, and I had a hard time figuring out what the fuck Cassius was talking about.

“Stop,” I said. “Breathe. Slow down, and tell me where Quinton is.”

Cassius took a deep breath. “He’s ok. He’s going to be ok. I know that much. I would never have let it happen if I didn’t know that. He’ll know that, too. He’ll know that you’ll save him. He’ll be ok, Liam.”

I felt myself growling, and Dexter placed a hand on my shoulder, taking the phone from me and putting it on speaker.

“Cass, Liam is having a moment, because it sounds like something bad happened to Q. Please tell me nothing bad happened to Q,” Dexter said.

“He’s going to be fine , because you guys will rescue him,” Cass said, and his pleading tone made me see red. Dexter squeezed my shoulder harder, and I realized little flames had erupted along my body.

“Rescue him from what , Cassius?” Dexter demanded. He looked at me and then said, “I swear to god, you’re gonna have a feral hellhound over there in about two minutes if you don’t explain exactly what the fuck is happening.”

“I had a vision. Q was kidnapped by the guy you’re looking for. I just saw someone putting a black bag over his head, and then I saw him in a room tied to a chair. He was fine . He’ll be fine, because Liam charges in and rescues him, and you guys will figure out who your bad guy is,” Cassius explained.

“You let him get kidnapped?” I growled out. My voice was guttural and low, and my hellhound was itching to come out and burn everything to the ground. Why hadn’t I put trackers in his shoes? On his clothes? Fuck.

“If I didn’t, I saw that you guys would never find this guy. He’d escape and go on to continue his human trafficking. I asked Q what he would do, and he said he would do whatever he needed to in order to save more people. I have to respect what he would want, Liam,” Cassius pleaded.

Of course Quinton would say that. Of course he would sacrifice himself to find out who the last person was. But he would also know I would save him. Cassius was right about that. He would know that this time, someone was coming for him.

“Where was he taken from?” I growled. “I’ll use my computer, track the cameras?—”

Cassius interrupted me. “Just use the bond, for fuck’s sake. Who cares about your computer?”

I growled in confusion.

“Oh, my god, please tell me you realize you mated and marked him? Fuck! I figured you knew that! I wouldn’t have let it happen if you didn’t fucking know that!” Cassius yelled out.

“Slow down, Cass,” Dexter said. “Liam didn’t know, but I didn’t know either until you told me.”

“Fucking clueless hellhounds,” Cassius muttered.

“Focus!” Dex demanded, and Cassius shut up and listened. “You know about this shit, so you just have to tell us what to do.”

“I don’t know!” Cassius cried out. “I’m not a hellhound! I don’t know how you guys track shit! All I know is that Liam and Q are bound, and Liam marked him. You guys are the ones who are supposed to know what to do!”

I growled again, but I pulled myself together enough to say, “Keep Aiden close.” Then I grabbed the phone from Dexter and hung it up. Cass would be no more help.

I tried to breathe. Quinton was in danger. Quinton was kidnapped. I could search the cameras and follow his trail, I was sure, but that would take time, and I didn’t know how much time I had. Cassius seemed to think I had a better way of tracking him.

I looked up at Dexter, who was staring at me anxiously. “What do you feel with Toby?”

“Man, I don’t know,” Dexter said, running his hands through his hair.

“Stop! Close your eyes. Think about the night when you were shot and you went after Toby. Did you know where he was?” I asked. I was barely holding my hellhound back, and I didn’t think it would be long before any reasoning was gone. I needed Dexter to keep it together for both of us.

Dexter closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. I tried not to be impatient as fuck, but the growling was a low steady sound that I couldn’t stop.

“I woke up, and the bullet coming out of my head hurt like a motherfucker. I knew Toby was in danger. I was flaming, and my hellhound was in charge. I just… I just ran towards him. It’s like my hellhound knew exactly where he was. I thought I was following the scent of the rotting soul, but I knew Toby was ahead of him. I knew they weren’t together.” Dexter took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

“Ok,” I grumbled. “You drive, and I’ll lead, then.” I got up, letting my impatience surface and letting my hellhound come to the forefront. By the time we made it to the bottom of the stairs, my growl was loud and nonstop. Corbin and Jude were both running in to see what the issue was—they’d obviously heard something.

“Go stay with Toby!” Dexter demanded.

“And Aiden,” I managed to growl out. Someone needed to be with Aiden. He was pack, too.

Corbin and Jude both nodded, and we all headed out the door. Corbin went over to Toby’s house, and Jude got into one car while Dexter and I got into another. We didn’t bother with seatbelts as we peeled out and headed down the driveway.

How long had it been since I’d felt that pain? Ten minutes? Fifteen? Not long. We were not long behind them, and if the hellbound mortal took Quinton from the shop, he’d need to bring him somewhere. We would be right behind them. We would find them.

We got to the end of the driveway and Dexter paused, waiting on my say. I closed my eyes and breathed in. I smelled the bittersweet scent of Quinton, even though he wasn’t in the car, and I turned my head back and forth.

“Left,” I said, and Dexter pulled out and started driving, speeding up the road.

It was an exercise in frustration at first. I ordered Dexter to turn into the middle of an open field, which didn’t seem the best course of action. I was scenting or sensing or whatever it was by direction, not by roads. Driving and looking for the next road to turn down put us past where we needed to be. We kept driving, trying to find roads that matched my sense of direction, but I knew we were taking longer than we needed to. I felt time slipping through my fingers, and I felt Quinton in my chest. I felt panic but also anger. My little hellcat was going to let his claws out, and I hoped it didn’t end up getting him hurt. My heart raced at the thought, and I was reaching for my cell phone before I even knew why.

I couldn’t trace Quinton. I didn’t know what good my phone would do, but I found my finger clicking on my map app. I zoomed out and looked at the roads, and my vision went hazy. My hellhound had an affinity for computers, and my technology sense didn’t fail me now. It was like I could see a pathway to Quinton, and I kicked myself for not thinking of this earlier. Why had I let Cassius tell me I didn’t need computers? I tracked with technology. It was part of who I was, and I was going to find Quinton.

I felt a sense of calmness wash through me. He was still ok—I knew that he was, and I knew how to get to him. I gave Dexter directions, and he sped up now that we were confident where we were going.

“Hang on, my little hellcat,” I murmured. “We’ll be there soon.”

Of course, nothing in life was ever simple. I sensed we were close when we passed a cop car. Of fucking course. Dexter was most definitely speeding.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

“Keep going. We’ll deal with the cops when we get there,” I muttered.

“But he’s got lights and sirens going,” Dexter said.

Fuck. Yep. That meant it would be a warning to whoever was holding Quinton.

I looked at the map again. It looked like he was in a house out in the woods, because of course—it was always houses out in the woods.

“We’ll pull off on the main road and run the last mile,” I managed to growl out.

Dexter hummed in agreement, speeding up. I’m sure he hoped to outrun the cop, or at least have a bit of a head start when we got to the woods.

I really didn’t want to be shot at.

I looked in the rearview mirror, and of-fucking-course it was the fucking sheriff—I recognized his face in the window. Shit. This was the same car he’d already pulled me over in, so he knew it was me.

Ah, well, I’d deal with that when I needed to. Getting Quinton was what mattered now, and we could easily outrun the cop. A mile out would prevent the sound of the sirens from reaching the house. If the guy had cameras at his house in the woods, our car also wouldn’t show up, so maybe this was a blessing in disguise. In my haste to get to Quinton, I wasn’t thinking about being seen driving up to the house.

I felt like energy was buzzing under my skin as we got closer and closer. When I could sense we were about a mile out, I growled, “Now,” to Dexter.

He slammed on the brakes and pulled onto the shoulder, dirt flying up and the car bumping along. The cop sped past and slammed on his own brakes. We were out of the car and running, keys left in the ignition.

I heard a shout of, “Stop! Police!” but we ignored it and ran.

Quinton was so close I could taste it, and nothing would stop me from getting to him.