Run Like the Devil • L.S. • Larry Supernatural AU

Chapter 1

"So," Louis says, without removing the plastic straw from between his teeth. He catches Liam's slight eyebrow raise and makes sure to slurp loudly before he continues, "Remind me again why we're here?"

Liam rolls his eyes. "Louis. I told you like six times. Is there booze in that milkshake?"

"I wish," Louis says, mournfully, as the straw splits under his chewing. The milkshake is good, but not great: somewhere in the middle of his mental milkshake score sheet. So far, nothing beats the strawberry at Sal's. Where are they, again? He glances out the window-right, California. Palo Alto, specifically. He'd been too busy rattling off lines of dialogue from The Social Network to pay much attention to Liam saying hey check this out and pointing at his laptop. He takes another sip, pondering. A drop of milkshake leaks out of the split in the straw and lands on his thumb.

"Louis!"

"I'm paying attention," he says, taking his thumb out of his mouth. "Hit me. Weird shit. What do we got? Suspicious deaths?"

"Sort of." Liam grimaces. "A couple of reports of, like, huge dogs roaming around. This one kid was going off on the news about werewolves."

"Werewolves?" Louis hates werewolves. Pain right in the ass to kill, and not monsters all the time. Monsters enough, though. Zayn used to get weird about them, too, for some reason he refused to tell Louis.

"I don't think so." Liam's brow furrows, his lips forming a concentrated pout, and he pulls a stack of papers out of his bag. Thank God for Liam's perfectionism and Louis' ability to distract Staples employees. They make a good team. "Here, look at this obit." He shoves a paper in front of Louis' face. A reedy, shifty-looking man smiles back at him. Louis scans the article-valued member of the community, born in Weed, California-Louis snorts-worked at a motel all his life until becoming successful tech entrepreneur overnight, hit it big in Silicon Valley when he was 30. Died at 40. Mauled to death by some kind of animal in his living room, according to the police report Liam shows him next. No sign of an intruder.

"Hellhounds, then," Louis says, somewhat unnecessarily. "Alright, so this guy made a deal. You think there's a crossroads demon dealing around here?" He gestures out the window. For all that Silicon Valley is supposed to be high-tech and wealthy, he's found it pretty grungy so far. "Wait, Stanford's around here, isn't it?"

"At least there was one ten years ago. I don't if they're, like, in charge of specific locations. I called Niall and he doesn't know either. And yes, it is. Other side of town."

"Okay," Louis says, dipping a fry in ketchup. He gets a little on his chin and doesn't wipe it, just to see Liam's wince. "So. Hellhounds still here even though whatsisface is in the pit. You think someone else made a deal?"

"Evan. Stanford was where Zayn was going, wasn't it?" Liam's features are starting to edge towards concerned. Louis shouldn't have brought it up.

"Yeah, it was. I don't want to talk about it," he says, and takes another slurp of his milkshake, loud and with a note of finality to it.

Liam looks at him for a moment. "I'm sure someone else made a deal, yeah; you don't get this kind of money in one place without someone buying souls, right?" He grimaces. "The question might be who hasn't made a deal."

"Are you-"

"Going to the library, yes, and probably the police station. Stations, maybe." Liam pushes his salad across the table with a filthy look at the wilted leaves. "I assume you're not coming with."

Liam's right, but Louis resents the implication anyway. "Okay," he says. "I guess I'll just sit on my ass in the motel and watch Days of Our Lives. Or wait, Dr. Sexy is on, isn't it?"