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Cerberus

Chapter 10: The Heir to Heaven and Hell

“Tell us, who was the other demon?” A tall Doberman snarled, holding up a silver blade to the Great Dane. The ink black hellhound was lashed to a rack, his arms held apart so he was in the shape of a cross.

“I invoke my right to an attorney—FUCK!” Damian snarled as the silver blade burned across his flesh, a shallow cut slicing across his chest, oozing black ichor and blood.

“Unregistered demons don’t get attorneys mister Damian,” the Doberman smirked, cleaning the bubbling blood and black ooze off his silver blade onto a dirty rag. “Unless you got a hole-ass registered hellmage hiding up your corn hole, and I know you don’t, then you better start talking. Now, how about I ask you again? Who was the other demon?”

“Not until I have my law—GAK!” Damian gave a shout as the Doberman slammed the knife into the dog’s thigh, the blade sizzling and popping with holy energy.

“How’s about this? I tell you my name, and you tell me the name of the other guy. And if you do I’ll pull that little blade out of ya. It’s like a deal. You demons love that shit, don’t ya? My name is Larry, and your friend’s name is…?”

Damian was huffing through his clenched jaw as the blade hummed and rattled against his bone. It was sizzling and popping from the boiling of his blood as that blessed silver attempted to purify the hellish impurities in his flesh.

“Ya know, I can dig it deeper,” Larry said, Damian’s eyes popping open. “Oh, did that get your attention? How’s about a new little deal here? You tell me the name, and I don’t keep hammering this blade deeper into the bone until you limp your way back down to hell with only one leg.”

“FUCK OFF YOU BASTARD!” Damian snarled. He wasn’t the smartest hellhound, but he knew as soon as he gave them the information they wanted, they would exorcise him and he would become nothing. He wasn’t lucky enough to have a pact with a god or goddess that kept him un-killable.

“I guess we’re going to have to amputate,” Larry grinned darkly, cracking his knuckles.

“Please, not another move Officer Larkin,” Someone demanded as they entered the interrogation.

“Who the FUCK do you think you are coming into my interrogation?!” Larry snarled as he spun around to face the interloper. “Wait…aren’t you—”

“Zachariah Graves,” The wolf smiled warmly back at him. The wolf was tall, jet black, and had eyes like rubies. His shoulder length hair fell in soft Greek curls, his beard was somehow an even darker shade of black, making it almost obsidian. His teeth were as white as diamonds. If the room were any darker, Officer Larkin would expect his eyes and smile to float as though disembodied. He wore an elegant, burgundy suit. The three piece overlapped a black button down that had golden adornments clipped to the collar wings, the matching tie to the suit was pinned down with a golden tie clip with a ruby gem. A unique broach hung from his lapel, a golden pomegranate that had been sliced open to show dazzling rubies, a gold chain connecting the broach with his breast pocket. Everything was sleek and elegant, and yet that suit showed how broad the man’s shoulders were, showed off the cut off his jaw and the sweep of his tight waist and powerful legs.

“No way,” Larry huffed. “The fucking hellmage lawyer?”

“I see my reputation precedes me,” The wolf smiled warmly. How was he able to be so tall and imposing, yet come off so warm. “Guess I didn’t need this.”

The wolf reached into the lining of his jacket and pulled out the onyx hellmage crest, a badge with a gold pentagram stamped inti it, proving he’s a government sanctioned hellmage.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m so terribly sorry,” Zack put away his badge and put his hands up defensively. “You see, this hellhound is mine.”

“What?” Larry cocked his brow. “You mean to tell me that this drug slinging pooch is yours? No fucking way.”

“I know, it’s hard to believe,” Zach sighed. “Though, Damian here is actually quite the asset in suppressing crime. He does operate less than within the bounds of the law, but in return he provides us with invaluable intel.”

“You’re telling me he’s a confidential informant? Your fucking CI?”

“Come now Larry, no need to beat my hound when he’s down,” Zach put his hands up. “I bet he already feels bad he left his papers at home. Between you and me, he’s a bit of a dumbass.”

“What!” Damian snarled.

“Calm down now pooch! The people are talking,” Zach dismissed the hellhound before turning to Larry again. “You know, I have to come down to one precinct or another almost twice a month to pull this guy out of whatever hole he’s dug himself into. Not to mention the commute is like going to hell and back. I know you’re just doing your job to keep our streets safe and clean, but could I have a word with my demon dog?”

Larry scratched his chin, mulling over Zach’s words before a grin played across his face.

“Ya know, for a lawyer, you ain’t half bad,” Larry smirked.

“You should see me in court,” Zach smiled, exchanged several pleasantries with the Doberman before he left. The wolf gave a gentle sigh. “Such a good man. I bet my sister would love him.”

Zach went over to the table that Damian was lashed too and started undoing the straps.

“Now, down to brass tax,” Zach unbound Damian and sat down at the table beside it while gesturing for Damian to come take a seat. Normally Damian would just jump ship and bolt. He could get out of EC custody on his own, but that warm gaze, those crimson eyes that looked like rubies amongst embers, struck something deep into his spine. “Come now Damian. The least you can do is hear me out.”

“Who are you?” The hellhound grunted while coming over to the table and sitting down. The demon dog was much taller than the wolf, but despite that, he felt shorter than him. That was never a good sign.

“I’m surprised Damian,” Zach furrowed his brow and pursed his lips into a fine line. “I thought for sure you would have recognized me. What has it been? Six, maybe seven hundred years? That’s not a lot of time for a hellhound.”

Damian’s eyes went wide before he kicked the chair out from under him and went down to one knee, smacking his chin on the table in the process.

“I’m sorry! I…I didn’t recognize you. Please, I meant no disrespect Zagreus.”

“Oh, pick your jaw off the floor and take a seat,” Zagreus smirked and propped his head up on his fist. “You know I don’t give a damn about father’s demeaning customs.”

“W-What…what do you want with me?” Damian got back up in the chair.

“For once, my trip top-side is for business, not pleasure,” Zagreus took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I have some questions for you.”

“I’ll…I’ll try to answer as best I can, Sir,” Damian gulped.

“Sir?” Zagreus gave a little scoff. “Come now Damian, just call me Zach. Everyone else up here does.” Zagreus is Hade’s adoptive son. Even though he was the product of Zeus and Persephone, Hades claimed him as his, named him his son, and formally added him to the pantheon. There is no higher show of respect, especially from the big three. Not only that, but Zeus also named him the heir of Olympus. To cross Zagreus is to cross the entire scope of the gods. There is not one deity in all of Olympus that wasn’t completely enamored with the loveable bastard. Hellhounds were no exception.

“Yes Zag—er um…Zach,” Damian fumbled with his words. His mouth felt dry. “Sorry…I just…”

“Here,” Zagreus pulled out a goblet. Where he was hiding it was beyond the hellhound, but it was filled to the brim with ruby liquid. “A gift from my brother Dionysus. It’s not water, but at least wine can help wet your whistle.”

“Yes…thank you,” Damian took the goblet and took a tentative sip. It was…glorious. Damian had never had ambrosia before, but he was sure this was a close second. It filled his senses, it washed over his tongue and sparkled with sweetness, he drank in the bitter undertones that made his tongue water. He gulped it down, knocking the glass back. He wanted more, more of that glorious wine! The only thing that made him stop was the fact he was going to drown! He slammed the cup back on the table, the liquid curling in the air and then going back into the cup.

“Yeah, should have warned ya,” Zagreus shrugged. “It’s quite amazing stuff. Tastes better than anything you’ve ever had, never empties, and it can’t spill.” He did little jazz hands towards the cup as though he were trying to sell it on an infomercial. Though, before Damian could take another swig, Zagreus had already gripped it by the lip and slipped it into his jacket.

“Do you feel a bit better?” Zagreus asked.

Damian blinked. He felt…good! A bit buzzed, but he didn’t feel dehydrated either.

“What was that?” Damian brushed droplets from his jaw with the back of his hand. He lapped it up like a pup.

“It’s Dionysus’ s personal reserves. He might be mad I gave it to a hellhound, but I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Th-Thank you,” Damian cleared his throat, his body fully recovered. He could even feel the holy energy left over from that silver blade bleeding away.

“Now, as much as I’d kill to party with a drug dealing hellhound, I do have some business to take care of.” Zagreus pulled out a manila envelope and put it on the table, the pictures inside of it spilling out perfectly to show Damian what the god wanted. “Tell me, what do you know about Cerberus?”

“That fucking bastard…” Damian shook his head. “Sorry, I meant no disrespect.”

“He may have been my childhood dog, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less of a bastard,” Zagreus chuckled. “Now, what has he been up to lately? Why were you fighting?”

“He was…um…I don’t know what other way to say this besides…um…horning in on my bitch?” Damian pushed his foreclaws together. “I mean, I fucked him first, and I was going to knock him up eventually—”

“Sorry, knock him up?” Zagreus cocked a brow. “Do you mean you were going to have sex with him or that you were going to legitimately get him pregnant?”

“Sorry,” Damian apologized. “He’s a cuntboy, and he’s the one who did all the ice magic too. He’d make a fine bitch and bear strong pups.”

“Ice…” Zagreus rubbed his stubble. “A fine bitch indeed. Was that all? Is there a specific reason why you think Cerberus is hanging out with this powerful wizard?”

“Flynn?” Damian scoffed. “A wizard? He’s just the luckiest bitch I know, I swear to god.”

“Lucky,” Zagreus furrowed his brow.

“Why do you care about some skank?” Damian was feeling good, his body loosening up. The god took a moment before responding.

“I guess you and your kind have a right to know if we suspect something,” Zagreus pursed his lips. “You know about Hecate’s prison, right? Well, we monitor it for strange activity. Of course the three sisters have always communed with their mother, but something odd happened just a few days ago. Extra souls entered her prison.”

“So what,” Damian shrugged. “Someone hitched a ride.”

“It wasn’t just one, it was two. Five souls entered her prison, one of which we know to be a hellhound with an immortal blessing.” Zagreus looked up at Damian. “Less than twenty four hours and you’re seen fighting with Cerberus and a powerful hellmage? You can see why this would be worth looking into.”

“Flynn?” Damian was feeling a bit tipsy, that wine going right to his head. “Flynn a hellmage? Don’t make me laugh! He’s a magic stitcher! That little bitch couldn’t summon a demon if he wanted to. I swear, the only reason they got one over on me was because he’s the luckiest little bastard that ever lived.”

Zagreus let that sink in.

“I do believe luck had a lot to do with it, unfortunately.” Zagreus pondered. “I better get to the bottom of this before things get out of hand.”

“How—hic!—out of hand you talkin’?” Damian felt hiccups coming on.

“You’ve met my sisters,” Zagreus stood up, the papers flying back into his suit as if not wanting to be left behind. “Which one do you think father’s going to send if I don’t settle things fast?”

Damian furrowed his brow, his mind sluggish. Then a memory flashed across his mind. Purple lightning raked its way across his memories. It was so powerful, so jarring…

…he whimpered in fear.

***

“How you holding up Nathan?” Lauren asked, the Doberman typing away at her computer as the ferret sat in the chair next to her desk holding a hot cup of coffee in his hands, a blanket thrown around him.

“I’m fine,” Nathan sniffed. “Can we hurry this up?”

“What?” Lauren smiled. “Can’t you spend some time with your favorite aunty?”

“Sorry Lauren, I…I just need to get back to help my dad.” Nathan knew that Lauren wasn’t his actual aunt, but he called her that since he was a kid because she was always around his dad. They were partners in the EC, so it made sense she would become part of the family.

“Of course, I’m sure your dad would love that, but I just have a few questions,” Laruen smiled warmly as she picked up her coffee and swiveled her chair next to him. “I’m just trying to catch the guy that hurt my partner. You know you’re not in any trouble, right?”

“I know,” Nathan sighed. “I…I just…”

Lauren gently took the mug from Nathan’s hands. He was shaking like a leaf. He let her take it and he wrapped himself further in the blanket.

“I know what you saw was a lot sweetie,” Lauren spoke in gentle hushed tones. “I just know you’re more level headed than most of the people out there. I wanted to know what you saw. Most of the cameras froze over so we only got a few good frames and not much else.”

Nathan bit his lip. It had been a couple days since the incident and he was seen fleeing from the scene. Lauren, had come to check up on him and asked him to come down to the office to talk about what he saw. But he didn’t even really know how reliable he would be. Not because of his relation to Flynn, but because he didn’t know if he believed it yet himself.

“I…I’m not sure if I can even describe what I saw,” Nathan took a deep shaky breath. He had never felt so afraid in his life. He gripped his arm where that electrified water had clawed into him. He winced, that biting sting was worse than when he fell on an underground hornets nest back when he was a kid. Worse than when he burned his hand on a s’more’s stick his father had just set down. It wasn’t just the physical pain though. It was something else. Something he thought he would never have to experience, something his dad said he would always protect him from. It was the fear, the absolute fear that shook him to his core. That electricity wasn’t just tearing flesh, it was digging into his spirit. That fear, that unbridled fear, was what his father had told him he had to endure in training.

Pain of the soul was fear.

And Nathan had never known what true fear was until that water ripped into him. It wasn’t just fear for his life, it was fear for his afterlife! He woke up screaming every night the past few days. Thankfully his father was so heavily medicated it didn’t wake him, but it gave his mother a fright.

“It fades in time,” Lauren said out of the blue.

“Huh?” Nathan blinked.

“Soul ripping,” Lauren nodded. “The first cut is always the most painful.”

“You…You could tell?”

“I’m a master detective like your dad? You think he solved all those cases on his own? That knuckle head couldn’t tell north from a warthog’s ass!”

Nathen chuckled at that. It was true. His dad was truly saved by the invention of GPS.

“There ya go, laughing helps,” Lauren smirked. “When I was in basic training, when I got to soul damage training, I pissed myself in fear and didn’t sleep for two days. And that was just a tiny little prick on my back. You’re holding up better than you think. Trust me.”

“Thanks Lauren,” Nathan smiled, rubbing his arm through the blanket.

“Though, the high amounts of soul wounds from the fight kind of already confirmed my suspicions as to what went down, but I wanted to pull you in to ask you a few things.”

“Why me?”

Lauren looked both ways before leaning in and murmuring her next words.

“I think the incident that you witnessed, and your father’s incident are related.”

“You think that one of the demons in that fight was the one that hurt dad?” Nathan’s eyes went wide.

“So there were at least two there, huh,” Lauren nodded. “I couldn’t be sure, but you got sharp eyes Nathan. Are you sure there were only two of them?”

Suddenly the ferret felt very nervous like he said something wrong…but how could it be wrong if it was going to help catch the guy that hurt his dad?

“I…think so. Why?” Nathen pulled the blanket closer to himself. He suddenly felt very exposed.

“Well, I’m not going to go deep into the details of magical attunement of hellmages and their familiars, but it appears that the first two dogs were fighting when one suddenly stopped, jumped back, and everything frosted over. The one was using water elemental spells, the other lightning and thunder, but then where the hell did the ice come from?”

“Couldn’t the water one potentially use ice?” Nathan cocked his brow.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too, but it was the ice that stopped the water user. I don’t think he’d aim a spell at himself.”

“Could it have been magical backlash?” Nathan asked.

“I wish,” Lauren smirked. “I doubt anyone cast anything wrong here. No, whoever cast that spell commanded the other one back out of the way before he let it loose.”

“Commanded…” Nathan froze, his ears ringing. “No…”

“Nathan?” Lauren cocked her head. “You okay?”

Nathan sat there, his mouth twitching as he choked on the thoughts trying to spill out of his mouth.

“You…You think that other demon…you think that one was the same one that…hurt my father?”

“Nathan, if this is too much, we can call it here. You’ve already confirmed what I needed.”

“Show me,” Nathan demanded.

“Nathan,” Lauren shook her head. “You know I can’t show you evidence from an active case.”

“Like that’s ever stopped you before,” Nathan huffed. “Show me!”

Lauren narrowed her eyes. Before she could say anything Nathan folded, his head falling into his hands as he gasped, shuddering and trying not to cry.

“Please, Lauren…I…I need to know…”

Lauren’s eyes were still incredulous, but she turned her monitor over to a paused video just before the beast backed off from the other. It was grainy and blurred from the creature’s fast movements, but it was unmistakable. It was that guy that Flynn had brought home.

Nathan sat back in his seat, his hands on his muzzle as he lightly shook his head. He wanted to forget it, he didn’t want to know, but now that he knew, he didn’t know what to do with the information. He took a slow and deliberate breath. It was undeniable proof. Flynn was a hellmage and this thing was his familiar.

“Nathan? Sweetie? You okay?” Lauren asked.

“Yes,” Nathan blurted out.

“Nathan, what did you see?”

“Nothing,” Nathan pursed his lips into a thin line. “I thought…no. He’s not.”

“What did you think?” Lauren pressed.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Nathan shook his head.

“Nathan, anything you say could help me find this guy and stop more people from being hurt. Even if it’s silly, I want to know.”

Nathan froze. He knew his poker face was trash and he had guilt written all over it. If he were actually convicted of a crime, he would surely go down in flames as the quickest conviction in history, but he was dealing with Aunty Lauren Trainer here. She would be gentle with him.

But the fact still remained. Flynn may have been involved with what happened to his father. But that couldn’t be right! Flynn would never hurt his dad. He was like a son to him and a father to the big doofus. There was no way he would ever, never ever, try to do anything that would EVER hurt him.

But if he was using again…who knows what he’d be capable of…

“Nathan?”

“Nothing, I thought he looked like a guy I hooked up with sometime!” Nathan blurted out. “But it couldn’t be him! He’s twice his size.”

“Oh,” Lauren blinked. “I…sorry I pressed for that Nathan. I know you’re a grown man now and you have urges, but…I appreciate your honesty.”

“Thanks,” Nathan crossed his arms. “Can I go now?”

“Of course,” Lauren nodded. “You tell your dad we’re going to catch this bastard, okay?”

“Sure,” Nathan muttered. “I’ll see you at the house later, right?”

“Not tonight, but I’ll swing by tomorrow with some of my famous meatballs.”

“You mean the ones you get from that furniture store?”

“You can’t say they aren’t famous,” Laruen smiled. Nathan gave a light chuckle before leaving the precinct.

“Hey Trainer, did the kid help?” Another Doberman officer asked.

“Yes and no,” Lauren responded sitting back in her seat. “There’s something he’s not telling us about our mystery guy, but I don’t think it’s time to press the poor kid. He’s recovering from his first spirit rip.”

“Shit? No lie? I remember when I got my first cut. I shat myself and needed a week to recover.”

“Nathan is made of tougher stuff than you or me,” Lauren straightened her files and put them on the side of her desk. “Kid would be one hell of an EC officer if he ever joined the force, that’s for fuck sure.”

“Even better than his old man?”

“Better than Cross?” Lauren turned to face her fellow Doberman officer. “If he finds another Lauren Trainer maybe, but we’ll see.” She smirked and turned back to her computer. “How’s our perp doing? He confess yet?”

“Nah, but his lawyer came in.”

“Wait, how can a demon have a lawyer? Especially some fucking drug dealing piece of shit off the streets?” Lauren shook her head. “Please don’t tell me you cut him loose Larry.”

“He’s still in holding, but his attorney is arranging bail for him now. Said he’d have been here sooner but he was out of town.”

“The fuck? You make it sound like he’s an old pal? You know this guy.”

“Personally? Nah,” Larry shrugged, sipping his coffee. “But he’s not half bad, for a lawyer.”

“Half a puddle of scum is still a puddle of scum,” Lauren snarled standing up. “Where is he?”

“Lauren, trust me, Damian is gone. Just give up on him.” Larry leaned in before whispering into her ear. “He’s a CI.”

“The hell he is!” Lauren stood up and marched over to the lobby, her long tail whipping behind her. She came to the front desk and pegged the bastard right away. He was tall and imposing, but he was currently laughing with the receptionist, her delicate paw in his hand. Laruen grabbed the lawyer by his shoulder and yanked him around.

“What agency do you work for?” Lauren demanded. “If you are trying to pull some shit like this, then tell me what agency you work for?”

“Oh my, how did I manage to insult someone I’ve never met?” The black wolf cocked a brow.

“Agency,” Lauren demanded again.

“Okay officer. May I retrieve my badge from my jacket?”

“Badge?” Laruen only knew of a few stations that had a badge and worked with CI’s, and her jaw dropped as he pulled out the badge issued to registered hellmages in the Demon Slayer Core. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You can check the number. It’s legitimate, though I typically don’t spend my time here.”

“Yeah?” Laruen snatched the badge and threw it at the receptionist. “Check it. And where do you usually spend your time?”

“South,” the man smirked as though that were funny.

“Where south?”

“Oh…what place is truly hellish…Pennsylvania?”

“Pennsylvania? Is that a joke? We’re not going to get along very well, are we?” Laruen had to hold back form bearing her fangs.

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t like clowns,” Lauren glanced up and down the man. “Especially fancy clowns. No one with a suit that nice is clean. What are you up to?”

“Clearly we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” the wolf pulled his card out and gave it to her. “The name is Zachariah Graves. Call me if you have any questions for my client. I’ve got other more pressing matters to attend to, so feel free to call and leave a message.”

With that, he grabbed his badge and was off.

Lauren leaned in to speak to the receptionist.

“You got his number?”

“Of course,” she nodded.

“Send his information to my desk. I want to know why someone from Pennsylvania is up in New York with some random CI.”

“You got it!”

Lauren lifted the card and scowled at the name.

“Who are you really Zachariah Graves?”

***

It had been a few days since they started their journey. After the very public fight in the city, everyone thought it was best to skip town and make their way to the first seal. To be fair, it was the only one they knew of for sure. Flynn, Cerberus, and the Three Sisters packed an old pickup truck with their essentials and hauled ass out of town. At least three of the five did. Kamila and Hemala could fly, so they went ahead and made it to the farm house before they did, but Flynn enjoyed the car ride with Tiahna.

Cerberus had stayed in the bed of the truck with the luggage, napping as they made their way down south. The hare drove and exchanged stories about their past, but mainly they talked about Hemala and Kamila, and how Tiahna was always given the crap jobs because she couldn’t fly. She emphasized that she meant driving their luggage and not babysitting him, though she did use the word “Babysit.”

As soon as they made it to their destination, he got his custom talisman, and his real training began. The finished talisman was a muzzle, only without the silencing aspects. It actually had stealth runes stitched into it so it would be invisible. Though, he could still see it. Hemala said that it wasn’t so much invisible as much as it just wasn’t perceived. Much like Cerberus and his talisman. It would be counterproductive if he were to stick out wherever he went by wearing a muzzle when they were on the run.

It had metal buttons that snapped into place on the sides to seal it shut if he needed to suppress his magic, while still giving him the option to speak. It wasn’t solid leather, but rather a series of belts woven together to create a net pattern for air to flow freely through it. Hemala was very particular about getting the measurements right and adjusting the straps on the back accordingly. It was comfortable, and he could feel that he could open his mouth at any moment to spew out an icy lance if he needed to.

Once Hemala was satisfied though, he was passed off to Kamila, and that’s when the novelty of a cool talisman wore off.

“No! You’re far too slow, and you’re relying on your muscles, not your spirit!” Kamila squawked from the shade of the awning.

“I’m trying my best,” Flynn huffed.

“I’m not asking you to do your best,” Kamila’s face was like an angry moon glowing in the shade of the veranda. “I’m asking you to be adequate.”

They had been up since sunrise and now the golden amber light of the afternoon was setting in. Flynn’s talisman hung limply on his face, fully unbuttoned to allow for full control of his innate ability. He huffed, his breath coming out in puffs of icy air that curled down around his feet. Frost had encroached upon his muzzle, but despite all the ice he was throwing, he didn’t feel cold. The talisman was really working wonders.

“Now, again,” Kamila smacked her walking stick on the old floorboards. “Focus your mind, breath in and feel your breath fill every part of your body. Have it flow through your fingertips and toes, then imagine projecting all that energy. Flow it all out of your lungs, squeeze it out and let it loose!”

Flynn did as she instructed, breathing in, but as soon as it came to the squeezing out, everything came undone. He tried to angle his breath at the glass soda cans along the fence twenty feet away. The ground everywhere in front of him was frosted over, but not even a snowflake marred the wood of that fence.

“NO! How many times do I need to tell you! You don’t use your muscles! You use your breath to squeeze the power out!”

“I’m trying!” Flynn snarled, turning around to face the barn owl.

“Not hard enough,” Kamila harped. “Perhaps another demonstration?”

Without waiting for a response, Kamila took in a deep breath before letting out a soft screech. A single flame shot from her beak like a bullet and knocked one of the glass bottles off the fence. It had to be twice the distance from where Flynn was standing, and the flame fizzled out before even touching the brush. Such control.

“You need to learn how to control your power on a fundamental level, or you’ll end up passing out every time you unleash a single breath. If you want to have any hope of surviving this ordeal, you’ll need to learn control!”

There was a sudden crackle of thunder. Blue lightning snaked its way across the glass bottles and shattered all of them. The two looked over to the side of the house where Cerberus was sitting. Smoke curled off his claw.

“Do it like that,” Cerberus smirked before blowing the smoke away from his finger. The guy was in nothing but a pair of black, cutoff jeans and a studded belt, his gold crown necklace bouncing between his pecs.

“Great, now I need to procure more targets!”

“I’ll have six new ones in ten,” Cerberus dangled a couple of beers up. “Why don’t you take a break from your squawking old hag and let the youth have a crack at training the helpless whelp.”

“Need I remind you that you are older than I?” Kamila narrowed her eyes.

“And that many years wiser,” Cerberus stood up. “As much as I love you torturing the luck drunk bastard, your constant screeching is killing my buzz. Go inside and drink your prunes. I’ll take over from here.”

“I don’t need you teaching him bad habits!” Kamila argued, her white face glowing red with anger.

“Wouldn’t it be better to mold bad habits than squeezing blood from a stone?” Cerberus paused, smacked his fist against his chest before letting out a large belch. “Ah, that’s where the first six went.”

“My goddess, you are so unrefined,” Kamila sighed. “Though you have a point. Try not to make him as obstinate as yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, go on inside and soak in your sponge bath or whatever,” Cerberus waived her off before coming down to the fence, lining up his empty beer bottles, and came back to sit in the grass next to Flynn. “So, first thing’s first, take your muzzle off.”

“Why should I listen to you,” Flynn frowned. “You don’t even want to help.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to help on this stupid quest of yours,” Cerberus took a swig of his beer. “But I also don’t want to get dead, and teaching you to defend yourself is a great way of doing that. So listen and take the damn muzzle off.”

Flynn crossed his arms, looking at the six beer bottles before he rolled his eyes and took his muzzle off and tossed it to the ground.

“Happy?”

“No,” Cerberus smirked. “But we’re getting there. Now, blow on this as soft as you can.”

Cerberus lifted his beer glass and Flynn rolled his eyes before letting a tinny puff of air roll in his muzzle before parting his lips as though he were spitting it out. Frosty air curled around his lips before frosting the side of the glass. Cerberus took it and drank it down.

“Fuck, perfect temp,” Cerberus smirked and handed another two to him. “ ’least you’re good for somethin’. Now, do these two and keep one for yourself.”

Flynn sighed, blowing frosty air out of his nostrils and giving the other beers the same treatment before taking it to down it, sitting by Cerberus.

“I just don’t get it!” Flynn blurted out. “I was able to freeze an entire intersection, but I can’t do a simple pea-shooter spell!?” He screamed in frustration.

“Wow! Cool it kid, I’m right here.”

“Well, what are you going to tell me to do?” Flynn was still frustrated and he knew he was taking it out on Cerberus, but he needed an outlet.

“Fucking Christ, just calm down,” Cerberus used his pinky to clean out his ear before flicking the wax off to the side. “Listen, you’re trying too hard.”

“I’m trying too hard?” Flynn cocked a brow.

“Yeah, you’re a frost mage, but you have an innate ability. That means that you’re so in tuned with magic that it built your body differently. You don’t even need to really use magic to cast ice breath, but you can use it to control it. The problem is, you’re going about it all wrong.”

“How so mister magic expert,” Flynn huffed, leaning back on his elbows while taking occasional swigs of his beer.

“Did you learn nothing from seeing what the old hag did?” Cerberus chuckled. “You can be so fucking dense. By the way, you need my heat at all?”

“No, I’m fine,” Flynn rolled his eyes. “How many times do I need to tell you I’m fine and don’t need you to keep me warm anymore. I’ll tell you when I need it. Now tell me what you mean by what Kamila did?”

“She’s been so attuned to her magic for so long she’s forgotten what it’s like to not know how to cast. Of course that bitch is a bad teacher of the basics, because she thinks the basics are just part of your flesh and blood.”

“So you’re saying she’s a bad teacher?” Flynn rolled his eyes and mumbled his next words into his glass. “I could have told you that.”

“Yeah, but the thing about innate abilities, is that they are born from what you are. You still don’t get it, do you? The three sisters as so deeply in tuned with their animal instincts, with what they are, that they can call upon their powers effortlessly. Hamala is a home maker, a nester, and Tiahna fucks like a hare in heat. Kamila is a smart owl, but she can be pretty dumb when it comes to things she thinks people should just understand.”

“So…what? You want me to be more wolf like?”

“I want you to be more beast like,” Cerberus smiled, static popping between his teeth. “You have all that primal power, the raw power of the gods coursing through your veins. Humanity gave order to creation, but the gods created life out of chaos. They created a cycle of life, but not an order to it. You know what us canines like to do. We hunt, we feast, we fuck, we get in touch with ourselves by being ourselves. You are no different. Wolves are just decedents of hellhounds one way or another, so why don’t you try taking that breath a step forward and let it out the ol’ natural way.”

“Are you asking me to do what I think you’re asking me to do?” Flynn raised a brow.

“Hey, it can’t hurt,” Cerberus grinned, his gold tooth glinting in the fading afternoon light.

“Whatever,” Flynn knocked back the drink and guzzled it down before tossing the empty bottle to the side. “I’ll try anything.”

Flynn stood up, dusted off his hands and hopped from foot to foot.

“Quit with the fancy feet and let out that inner wolf,” Cerberus gave a sly smirk.

Flynn followed the instructions and breathed in, filling himself up from the tips of his toes to the crown of his head. He held it for a beat before he envisioned the bottles as a glowing sphere, as a moon.

“Awoooo!” Flynn gave a little howl and he felt the squeeze that Kamila was talking about, drawing power from the tips of his toes all the way to his lips.

“HA! Fuck! You actually did it! I can’t believe you fell for that!” Cerberus was cackling and rolling on the ground.

“It worked,” Flynn blinked.

“It what?” Cerberus brushed a tear from his eye as he calmed his chuckling. Then his eyes went wide as he noticed one of the bottles were missing, mist rolling around where it once was.

Flynn took another deep breath and let out another howl.

“Awooooo!” Sure enough as his voice reached its highest pitch, an icy needle shot through the air silently, smacking the beer bottle, freezing it so fast it shattered and went flying backwards, scattering glass into the brush and frosting it over.

“Holy shit, it works,” Cerberus palmed his forehead.

“Wait, you thought it wouldn’t work?” Flynn cocked his head.

“Yeah, that was just basic hellhound training. I would teach my son’s and daughters, hell, even some of my bitches that way. It’s not supposed to work on humans.”

Flynn smiled, his fingers and toes buzzing like he had just come inside after being in the cold, only this felt good.

“Cerberus,” Flynn gripped his fist, the leash of runes lashing to his hellhound’s collar. “This is an order. Teach me like I’m one of your pups.”

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