Fiends and Familiars - Debra Dunbar Page 0,15

he could manage that, there are magical wards on the house. Besides, I think we’ve got him all wrong. Just because he’s scary-looking doesn’t mean he’s a bad doggie…or doggie-thing.”

Clearly the squirrels had a differing opinion on that.

A hellhound. If Lucien was right, then no wonder the squirrels were afraid. I’d been afraid of the dog-thing when I’d first encountered it as well, but I’d quickly changed my mind. Maybe his initial growling and teeth-baring had been because he was scared as well. I’d seen so many hungry strays that acted that way and it took a while for them to trust even me who could communicate with them. He’d clearly loved the liver treats, and I was assuming he was the one who ate the rib bones. He’d come back repeatedly. I was probably the only person who’d been nice to him.

Well, except for yelling at him last night. I did feel bad about that. Poor doggie. Just because he looked scary didn’t mean he was that way on the inside. I’d grown up among supernatural creatures who would have terrified any human who set eyes upon them. I needed to not be so judgmental. Heck, less than a month in the human world, and I was already yelling at stray hellhounds to get off my lawn at three in the morning.

Determined to do better, I went and got out a ham bone I’d been saving for soup and took it out to the front lawn. Then I sat and waited.

Orange-red eyes lit up from the woods and I shivered, wondering if this was a good idea or not. I reached out to the animal, asking it to come in close. The orange-red eyes moved, then came out, the darkness revealing a large cat.

“Hey Buster,” I greeted our neighborhood feral kitty. “Come get a little ham.”

I tore a piece off the bone and held it out as he bounded across the yard toward me. Buster took the meat gently from my fingers and purred as he ate. I waited until he was done to converse further, because Buster felt eating and talking were two things that should not happen at the same time.

After he was done, Buster got really chatty. Evidently a calico two blocks over was in heat and he was planning a midnight serenade in hopes that he could get it on. The guys four doors down hadn’t secured the lid on their garbage container last night and Buster had enjoyed some pizza crusts and half a turkey sandwich. The Richardsons had called in an exterminator—sadly not me—and Buster was lamenting the decline in the mouse population over there.

I tossed him another piece of ham and told him that the rest was for the hellhound that had been in my yard last night. He froze, his eyes wide as he looked up at me.

Buster was afraid of the hellhound. He was quite vocal about how it was a monster who only appeared when it was on a hunt. He was positive that the hellhound would kill anyone who got in the way of his prey. Then he would kill his prey and drag them all into a fiery pit of torture.

Cats. They were so dramatic, especially when it came to dogs. I really didn’t blame him. I’m sure he’d barely escaped death by dog many times, and being mauled was definitely torture in my opinion. I tossed Buster one more piece of ham, then wished him good luck with the calico as he strolled off.

He wasn’t gone five minutes when I heard a rustling in the bushes. Four pairs of red eyes peered at me this time. I gripped the ham bone tight, relaxing when the hellhound stepped out onto my lawn.

I really needed to name him. Or maybe he had a name already. “I’ve got dinner for you. But first I want to know what I should call you.”

He eyed the ham bone and drooled, opening his mouth to reveal those very large, very sharp teeth.

Yeth.

It was a weird name, but I’d respect it. Clearly he liked it if he’d accepted it.

“Okay Yeth, here you go.” I tore a piece of ham off the bone and tossed it to him.

Three other hellhounds materialized. Well, not really materialized. They crept out of the brush onto my lawn, but unlike Yeth, these guys didn’t seem particularly interested in the ham, or the least bit friendly. Their heads were low, hair raised in a bristle across their shoulders. Teeth