The Hellhound

Ch. Twenty

"So they dug your grave, and the masquerade will come calling out at the mess you made."

- Imagine Dragons

                                                                             ***

The truck stopping woke him, his eyes flying open at the sudden lurch as Caleb put it in park. After a moment to orient himself, Sirius pushed himself away from the door, groaning.

He was stiff and sore. His head ached and the back of his throat burned, but he didn't feel loose and disconnected from his body. He rubbed his eyes, falling back against the door.

"Coffee," he rasped. "I need coffee."

"Yeah, I figured," Caleb said, opening his door. The squeal of the hinges had Sirius cowering away from the sound, covering his ears. He thought he heard laughter, but then he was nearly falling out of the truck as his own door opened.

"Easy there, Fido," Rick said. "Come on, protein helps the hangover."

Sirius squinted against the light coming from the west. "What time is it?"

"Dinner time," Rick answered as Sirius finally got out of the truck. "We're hungry and Alex gets bitchy if she doesn't eat."

There was a muffled scoff. "I think you mean you get bitchy," Alex retorted. "Who's the one who couldn't even hold out to the state line?"

Rick grinned over his shoulder at his sister. "We've still got an hour to Colorado."

"Wimp," Alex teased, then laughed when Rick flipped her off.

Sirius trudged after Caleb, flinching at the bell that went off when he opened the door to the diner. Red vinyl and 50s rock assaulted him, making him wonder why Hunters couldn't eat at restaurants like normal people.

They filed into a booth—Caleb and Alex on one side, Sirius and Rick on the other—ordering drinks before Rick let out a long sigh.

"So now we have the knife," Rick said in a low tone, and Caleb's hand reflexively went to his jacket, where Sirius assumed the demon blade was safely hidden. "What next?"

"How much does Logan know?" Sirius asked, looking at Caleb with as much wariness as he could muster.

The waitress came back, but all Sirius could register was the cup she set in front of him. He grabbed it, the sides warm on his hands, soothing the ache in his knuckles. It was hot and black and felt good against the raw back of his throat. He startled when Rick jabbed him with an elbow and looked up to find the waitress staring at him expectantly. His mind blanked, and he stared back for a moment.

"He'll have what I'm having," Rick finally said when the silence had stretched to a length that had the waitress looking at Caleb questioningly.

She wrote everything down on a little notepad before retreating quickly to the kitchens. Caleb propped his chin on his hand. "Sober up no problem, huh?"

"It's been a long night, Hunter. Don't test me," Sirius warned half-heartedly before going back to his coffee.

"Been a long week," Caleb muttered, crossing his arms and slumping back in the booth. Alex yawned, as if to punctuate his statement.

"So?" Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Logan?"

"I told you," Caleb said, voice unsympathetic. "You're the one who has to tell him. I just asked him and Rhys to meet me and a few friends in Wyoming."

All Sirius could do was stare. "He doesn't know?" he finally said faintly. "He doesn't know she's been dead for better than a week?"

They all shifted uncomfortably at that. Then Alex said, "That's really not the kind of thing you say over a phone call."