Simeon dearly loved the huge hellhound. A rare piece of magic and extremely valuable on the international market, Scáth was treated like the family pet he had become. “Of course! Simeon loves taking him for a walk,” Angel’s grin was evil. Beacon Hill was used to Angel being a bit extra, but an elegant, suited vampire walking a hellhound around the one-hundred-and-five acres of their little slice of Boston was more than the locals were accustomed to seeing. It was a good thing Animal Control was terrified of Eroch and Angel, and they had the BPD on speed dial.
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