Maharet sat on an overturned plastic five gallon bucket and listened as Bael filled her in on Six’s discovery. The garden was coming along nicely and she had reached a good stopping point anyway. The vines were doing particularly well, even if they did tend to try and consume the local wildlife when she wasn’t looking.

“So you think all this was planned? That someone had you summoned on purpose?” Maharet asked.

“Yes, and no.” Bael paced back and forth between the raised beds of the garden. “I think someone wanted me to be summoned, that much I know for sure. But I don't see how they could have foreseen what would happen afterwards. It's frustrating.”

Maharet knew how he felt, quite literally since their traveler's bond was still active. Waves of frustration and confusion were radiating off of Bael like heat from a forge. “Why don't we just go ask Mike how he got the book?”

Bael ran over to Maharet, pulling her up into his arms and planting a passionate kiss on her lips. “You’re amazing! Of course!”

He swung her around in a circle. “I'll tell Titan to guard the house and we can go down immediately. Actually, this is perfect. Vlad wasn't answering my summons so I can scoop him up too while we're at it.”

“And I can grab my cats.” Maharet said.

“Of course! Wait, you have cats?” Bael stopped swinging his wife around. He wasn't sure how he felt about cats. They tended to be quite destructive (and more than a little judgmental).

“Three of them, to be exact. I hope that won't be a problem.” She brushed the dirt from her jeans and kicked off her gardening clogs. It was hell after all, there was a certain dress code that needed to be adhered to.

Bael waved his hands in surrender. “No, of course not dear. I just worry about how well they will get along with Titan, that's all.”

“Don't worry.” Maharet said lovingly. “If the worst happens, we can always get you another hellhound.”

“Right.” Bael went off to tell Titan they were leaving, but decided to leave off the part about the cats. There was no sense getting him all worked up about it.

***

Mike was not having a good time in hell, which was kind of the whole point. The apron he wore smelled like rotten fish. His break was in two minutes and if he missed it his supervisor would write him up.

Across the deli counter a frumpy woman in a purple raincoat was looking at the food in the case distastefully. She appeared to be a normal human but it was hard to tell for sure. In hell looks could be deceiving. “Is the egg salad organic?” She asked.

“No. Nothing we have is organic.” Mike told her for the tenth time.

“But is it at least non-gmo?” Her New York accent drew out the last word until it was as long as the rest of the sentence.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“No. This is Hell Foods, not Whole Foods.” Mike could already feel his will to exist slipping away. This was torture. Pure torture.

“But I want organic egg salad. Can you make me some?”

“No.”

“There's no reason to be rude about it.” The woman said huffily. “I'm going to write a complaint. The owner is a close friend of mine and he won't be happy with how you're treating his customers.”

“I don't doubt that for a minute.” Mike replied, immediately regretting it when the woman glared at him. Getting written up was an incredibly unpleasant experience.

“Does it have mustard in it? I need to know if it has mustard in it. Even a little bit could kill me.”

He weighed his options. There was definitely mustard in the egg salad. “No.” He lied. “Absolutely no mustard of any kind. Would you like to try a free sample?”

“Free? What do you think I am, poor?” The woman stormed off to find a manager.

Mike took this as his opportunity to split. He ran through the back hallways of the hellish supermarket towards the breakroom, dodging mop buckets and overflowing metal racks of deli containers as he went. Just as he was about to cross the threshold a hand grabbed him by the back of his apron.

“I hope I'm not bothering you.” Bael said, spinning Mike around until they were face to face. “But I was hoping you might be able to answer some questions.”

Another figure wreathed in flame appeared right next to Mike. The wall behind her began to smolder and catch fire. “Sure!” He said weakly, his eyes watering from the heat of the walking inferno. “How may I be of assistance?”

***

Over the next hour Mike told them about many things including his failed acting career. But he didn't know where the book came from. According to Mike the grimoire just showed up one day and he had been too greedy to question it. (After all, you didn't look a gift demon in the mouth. That was just asking for nightmares.)

Satisfied that he wasn't holding back on them they dropped Mike off in the torture pits and went to retrieve their next damned soul. Unfortunately he was gone.

“What do you mean, gone?” Bael asked the records clerk. The sloth demon shrugged slowly.

“Has he escaped, ascended or reincarnated?”

The demon held up three fingers. Apparently their prospective tutor had decided to take a spin on the wheel of reincarnation. (Quite literally in fact. Vlad was currently living his worst life as a mouse in a cosmetic testing lab in Hong Kong. His heart, liver, and lungs were failing but his fur looked amazing.)

***

Titan felt the presence of the invaders before he could smell them. His nose wrinkled at the scent. “CATS!” The hellhound cursed as he ran down the stairs, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor.

The trio of felines laying on the living room couch watched his approach with interest. One was black as night, the next was white as snow, and the last one was so orange as to almost be red. Their names were Robbery, Murder, and Arson. Titan knew them well, unfortunately.

“WHAT ARE YOU THREE DOING HERE?” He demanded.

“They’re coming to live with us, apparently.” Bael said as he and Maharet reappeared. “Also, our search for a tutor was less than fruitful.”

“BUT… CATS?” Titan looked at Bael with confusion.

“Yes. My cats.” Maharet summoned a ball of flame in her hand to get everyone’s attention. Arson seemed particularly fascinated by the flickering glob of hellfire. “And I want to make it perfectly clear that nobody is to eat anyone else, even if they find them annoying. There will be no murder in this house. No acts of murder, I mean.” She corrected herself.

After a moment the orange cat named Arson sighed. “Fine. We won't eat the hellhound.” There was a slight hint of dejection in her voice. “Or the child. Or Bael.”

“I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY TO TAKE ME ON.” Titan snarled.

“We do outnumber you.” Arson pointed out, licking her paw.

Titan vibrated then split right down the middle, creating two new hellhounds half as large. They then split again resulting in four identical dogs. Each one opened their mouths wide to show rows upon rows of sharp teeth.

The four Titans spoke in unison. “HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR ODDS NOW?”

“Truth be told, I'm not loving them.” Arson admitted.