Hounded

Hounded by Kevin Hearne Page A

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Authors: Kevin Hearne
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she said with a pout, and I almost changed course right there.
    › Down, boy, ‹ Oberon said at my heels with ironic relish. I ignored him.
    » Sorry, Granuaile « —that simply could not be her true name; she had to have picked it out on purpose to fit in at an Irish bar— » I have to talk a little treason with my friend, « I said, gesturing toward Hal.
    She smiled. » If it’s a conspiracy, I want in on it. I can keep a secret. «
    » I’ll bet you can, « I said, and she arched an eyebrow at me. I felt a foolish grin spread across my face.
    » Ahem. Time is money, Mr. O’Sullivan, « Hal called, and I snapped my head around, suddenly realizing I had stopped in the middle of the bar and forgotten what I was doing there. Hal’s time was worth $350 an hour.
    › Next time you take me to the dog park and you yell at me to stay away from the French poodles, I’m going to remind you of this, ‹ Oberon said.
    Embarrassed, I stalked over to Hal’s table and sat myself across from him. Oberon squeezed underneath the table next to the window and waited for food to rain down from the sky.
    Hal frowned. » I smell your dog. «
    » He’s under the table, camouflaged, « I said.
    Hal’s eyes widened as he processed the sling across my chest and the hilt peeking out over my shoulder.
    » Is that the sword I think it is? « he asked.
    » Yes, « I replied, and took a long pull from the Smithwick’s.
    » Was it employed in last night’s mischief? «
    » No, but I believe in being prepared. There’s more trouble on the way. A whole lot more. «
    » Do I need to tell the Pack? « Hal asked.
    Werewolves. Their pack always came first. » Hey, it’s my ass in the meat grinder here, not the Pack’s, « I said. » You don’t need to tell anyone but Leif about this business. In fact, I want to see him as soon as he wakes up tonight. Send him to my house. «
    Hal looked as if I had just asked him to lick up vomit. » Will you be paying the firm for his time, or will he? « He was referring to the business arrangement I had with the vampire. Leif and I had a unique understanding: Sometimes I paid cash for his services, and sometimes I paid him in fine liqueur—that is to say, my blood. (I had carefully neglected to mention that to Flidais.) The blood of a 2,100-year-old human, and a Druid no less, was a powerful, intoxicating, and extremely rare vintage for a vampire. I slashed my arm, drained a wineglass full for him, and then healed myself, and that was worth twelve hours’ billing to him. Then I washed out the glass and made sure he hadn’t spilled any, because I was paranoid about my blood getting into the hands of witches. He paid the firm out of his own pocket for such a drink, and he had grown powerful over the years by it. I never saw him use the power, because nothing locally wanted to mess with him, but I think Leif was trying to become strong enough to mess with Thor someday.
    » Does it matter? « I said. » The firm gets paid either way. «
    Our waitress arrived, and we paused to order three plates of fish and chips—the third was for Oberon, who was doing a good job of remaining invisible. When she left, Hal spread his hands and said, » Okay, tell me everything. « I told him about Flidais but left out the Morrigan; it wasn’t everything, but close enough.
    » So a goddess from your pantheon has come and gone, « he said when I had finished, » and you could get a visit from two more Irish gods before this business is through? «
    » Right. Aenghus Óg and Bres. Plus Fir Bolgs. «
    » Plus those. I’ve never seen one. What are they like? «
    » To you they’ll look like a biker gang or something similar, but they will smell like shit. «
    » Biker gangs can smell like shit sometimes. «
    » Well, that just makes the disguise better, « I said. » The point is, you won’t see what they’re really like, because they wear glamour when they walk in the mortal world. In truth, they’re giants with bad oral

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