Charbydon."
Rex shot me a nasty look and let Brimstone out the back door. "He's not a thing. He's a hellhound. He has a name."
I rolled my eyes as he popped the lid to a canister of antibacterial wipes, snagged a sheet, and wiped up the slobber. He chucked it in the trash and then placed one hand on the countertop and one on his hip, frowning expectantly like Will used to do when I'd done something wrong.
"What?" I asked. He huffed in response, waiting for me to magically understand his problem. So I took a wild guess. "Um ... sorry I'm late?"
An impressive snort came out of his mouth and his eyes rolled. "You're always late--that's why I always start dinner an hour after you say you're going to be home." Rex's eyes grew round and exasperated as I still had no clue. "The garlic? The tomatoes? I asked you to get a few things ..." He marched to the oven to check on dinner. The smell that erupted was wonderful. Lasagna or baked ziti, I guessed. "You know, I work all day long in this house and the least you can do is remember when I call."
I heard the footsteps on the stairs and bit back my reply, waiting for Emma to come around the corner and into the kitchen. The mini bowling ball in her hands was a surprise. "Oh, hey, Mom."
I stopped her as she passed, pushing her long, wavy bangs back to kiss her forehead. "What's with the bowling ball?"
"It's Brim's. He's torn up the other dog balls we got and--"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." I stepped back. "You've been playing ball with the hellhound?"
I turned a murderous gaze on Rex as he pulled on oven mitts. "Well, they get along great," he muttered in defense, knowing I was about to go nuclear.
"Mom ..." Emma started in a tone that said she knew it, too, but I didn't let her finish.
"No, Emma. I don't care how great you get along. He's a hellhound. They are trained to kill. They're born with the instinct. I was attacked by one today--"
"You were? Did you hurt it?"
"What? No, I had her sent back to Charbydon."
"Mom! That place is dying and--"
"How do you know their moon is dying?"
"Don't you ever watch TV? And it's not really a moon. Everyone just calls it that; it's more like a white dwarf star. Or that's the theory anyway. And now we have to do some stupid science report at school ... Everyone has to come up with a hypothesis on how to ..." She shook her head, realizing she was getting off track. "Sooner or later, someone's going to have to go in there and rescue all those poor animals anyway. You should've brought her home. We could've set up another kennel next to Brim."
I blinked, wondering if my daughter had lost her mind. Or maybe whatever the hell made Rex such a kook was catching. "This isn't a hellhound sanctuary, Em. You can't trust them. You turn your back on Brim for one second or look at him the wrong way, and he'll remember he's not Fluffy the Dog, but a killer, and I don't want you to be in his path when he does." I fired a hard look at Rex. "It stays in the kennel."
"Mom!"
I didn't answer, instead letting my angry footsteps carry me up the stairs. I refused to argue about it. The beast needed to go back to Charbydon. I was too pissed off to stay in the same room with Rex right now. He continually went behind my back and broke all my rules. What the hell was that going to teach my kid?
I removed my boots and jeans and then pulled on a pair of Lycra yoga pants and sneakers, stopping to look at myself in the full-length mirror to put my hair into a ponytail. Though my appetite had been insane the last two months, I'd still lost weight since the darkness ritual. Shadows lurked beneath my eyes, and I knew it wasn't just weight I was losing. My body was worn out, tired of fighting on the inside. Having two opposing powers inside of me was taking its toll, exhausting me.
I gathered the long, wavy hair that fell to the small of my back. It was darker than Emma's auburn-brown locks, but it fit my personality, and I liked the way the copper and mahogany tones mixed