Freak Show (Alexa O'Brien Huntress Book 7)

by Lee, Trina M.

  “No, please,” I almost shouted. “Don’t leave. I need help. I don’t know where Jez is. I’m missing the last two hours because some son of a bitch vampire drugged me with wolfsbane. And I can’t reach Arys. The local blood ring has him and Shaz.”

  “When you fuck things up you don’t half ass it, do you?” With a shake of his head, Falon snickered. He plucked a piece of ash blonde fur from between a dead man’s fingers. “I don’t know how you’ve managed to survive this long. It’s uncanny.”

  “And you’re an asshole, but I’m willing to overlook that this time.” My relief at seeing a familiar face was fading fast.

  His grin vanished. “I can’t wait until Shya’s done with you. The moment he is, and I do mean the very moment, I’ll be there. And you’ll be sorry.”

  “I’m already sorry,” I snapped. A shock of pain wracked my brain. I muttered obscenities until it passed.

  We glared at one another, each trying to muster greater vehemence in our eyes. Finally, I sighed and shrugged. Falon wasn’t worth the precious time that I had to find my friends.

  “Just leave, Falon. We both know this is the last place you want to be.”

  Ignoring his hateful stare, I went back to studying the bodies for any trace of werewolf that would give me away to the local FPA. After several silent minutes, Falon sighed dramatically and shouldered me aside.

  “Get out of here, Alexa. Go find your twin so Shya doesn’t rain down hell upon either of us. I can’t stay long so let me take care of this while I can.” The air in the room grew thick as Falon’s power rose.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked, hesitant, afraid to hear the answer.

  Falon turned a wicked smile my way and shook his head. “What do you think I’m going to do? I’m here to clean up your mess. Now beat it.”

  I couldn’t trust him, not for a second. Nor could I trust Shya, a demon who only wanted Arys and me alive because of the rare power we possessed. But I wasn’t in a position to argue.

  “Fine.” I tugged on my boots, the only item not destroyed by my violent wolf shift. I felt ten times more ridiculous than I looked. “Thanks. I guess.”

  I was almost to the door when he said, “Here. I’m sure you’re going to need this.” A thud on the floor and the sharp ting of metal spun me around. My dagger, the Dragon Claw, lay on the floor near my feet. I’d never been so happy to see the demon-forged weapon.

  “You were going to let me walk out of here without handing it over, weren’t you?” I picked the dagger up, satisfied with the way it hummed at my touch. It had been made just for me, with a piece of my hair to bind its magic to mine. With just a nick of the blade, it could kill a vampire.

  “I’d love to sabotage you, Hound. You’re the enemy, no matter what Shya thinks he can gain from you. But I don’t call the shots.”

  I stared at the dagger. It wasn’t small by any means. “How am I going to carry this around the city? I don’t have my leather jacket with me.” I eyed up the black trench coat Falon wore. It would work. “Let me have your jacket.”

  “Not a chance. It’s your problem.” He turned his back on me, dismissing me without another word.

  “I don’t have time for this shit. Give me your jacket.” I grabbed his sleeve and whirled him around. If I had to tear it off his body, I would.

  He raised a hand to fend me off. I grabbed on and refused to be budged. “Falon stop being such a dick. Can you hate me later? I don’t have time for this.”

  He gave me a shove that sent me tripping over a body. I fell on my butt in a puddle of blood. “Oh this is just great. Just fucking fabulous.”

  With a snarl, I came at him with the Dragon Claw held high. Mocking laughter was the response I got. Angered and impatient, I swung the blade, forcing him to sidestep the attack.

  “You can’t kill me,” he gasped out, almost doubled over with laughter. God I hated him. “You stupid wolf.”

  “I don’t know. Can angels function without a head?”

  I swung again, and he easily caught the blade. It sliced into his palm. I tried to jerk it away, but he held tight. The force of his anger thrummed through the blade, down the handle into my arm. It seared through me, scorching every nerve as it climbed to my shoulder.

  “You underestimate me, Alexa. One day, that’s going to stop.”

  “You keep singing that song, and it’s getting old. Let go of my dagger you fence riding piece of shit.”

  “Oh, is that what you think?” Falon released the dagger with a push of power that forced a shriek from me. “You think fallen angels are simply undecided? I promise you we know exactly where we stand. Your precious Willow included.”

  “What does Willow have to do with this?” I held my arm with teeth clenched, willing the pain to fade.

  Falon studied me. Whatever he saw, it shut him up. In a fast, fluid motion, he stripped off the jacket and tossed it. “Never mind. You have places to be. Clock’s ticking.”

  The smarmy ass knew he had piqued my curiosity, and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it. He was right. I had to go. I quickly rigged the dagger’s scabbard around my waist, hiding it with Falon’s jacket, which was long enough to fall almost to my ankles. Without another word or a backward glance, I darted into the hall and followed the signs to the elevator.

  Paris Las Vegas was a nice hotel. There was much to look at. If circumstances had been different, I’d have loved to browse around. As it was, I ran through the lobby to the street beyond.

  My body was sore from the violent shift to wolf and back. It didn’t usually hurt like this. I ran through the streets, dodging tourists, until I made it back to Caesars where I ditched the huge men’s clothing for my own lightweight yoga pants and another bra and tank top. I swapped my boots for runners and chugged back a bottle of water.

  At this rate, I was going to be out of clothes in no time. I was in and out of the suite in three minutes flat, running with Falon’s coattails flapping behind me. I had no starting point for finding Jez. My only guess was that Roscoe still had her. So I was going to The Wicked Kiss.

  The street outside the club was empty. An eerie quiet hovered around the building. Knowing the rooftop access would likely have locked behind us when we left, I crept around to the back.

  Two vampires wearing staff t-shirts stood watch at the back door. I stepped out of the shadows, careful to keep the dagger concealed. They stiffened at my approach, exchanging a look with one another. I held my hands up and moved slowly.

  “I’m Arys Knight’s wolf. I’m here to find him.”

  “You won’t find him here,” said the taller of the two. He frowned down at me, sniffing openly in my direction. “Linden and his guys dragged Arys and Jenner out of here over an hour ago. They took the blond wolf too.”

  Panic seized my heart. Moving them to another location could only mean bad things. Linden and his blood ring were going to kill them.

  “What about Sloane?”

  “She’s here. Recovering.”

  “Can I see her?” My question was received with skepticism and raised eyebrows. “I’m no threat to her. If you want Jenner back here in one piece, you have to let me speak to Sloane.”

  They exchanged another look. The silent one shrugged. The tall guy nodded and stepped aside to let me through. I half expected them to follow me, but they remained at their post.

  I entered into the back of the club behind the stage, fully anticipating a scene of horror and destruction. Instead, I found the place partying as if the earlier intrusion had never happened. Most of the damage had been cleaned up. Music pounded out of the speakers. People filled the dance floor, and vampire showgirls worked the room. The sheer normalcy was all kinds of fucked up.

  The elevator was off limits and besides I had no key card to access it. Slipping into the fire exit stairwell, I made my way down.

  The lower level was in much worse shape than upstairs. Evidence of the attack remained in the theatre. Even as I walked through the dust and
debris, staff members were hard at work cleaning up. A few of them looked up as I entered. I rushed into the backstage dressing room where I’d left my bag. It was still there, much to my relief. But so was Sloane, and she looked like death. I clutched my bag to me, grateful to find my phone and wallet still inside. I didn’t dare take my eyes off Sloane.

  “Alexa?” She looked up from the neck of the man she was draining. Her eyes were dull and unfocused.

  Someone had done a number on her. She had been stripped of her power, sucked so dry she was little more than a skeletal figure. Her skin clung to her bones, creating sharp angles in her face. Dirty and tattered, her dress barely fit her bony frame. I couldn’t recall ever seeing a vampire so drained.

  “Sloane, are you alright? What happened? Where are Arys and Jenner?” I stopped dead in my tracks when her parched gaze landed on my throat.

  “Linden took them. He’s going to kill them.” She pushed the unconscious man aside, and he hit the floor with a thump. Peering up at me with sunken eyes, Sloane tried to get up only to collapse back into the chair. “Help me up?” She extended a scrawny arm that wavered uncontrollably. Blood smeared her lips along with what was left of her lipstick. She was truly a ghastly sight.

  “I think you need to rest. Finish your…” I gestured to the fallen man and took a step back, unwilling to let her touch me. Hunger blazed in her glassy blue orbs. I probably smelled like a prime meal to her, a sirloin steak to a starving man. She was starved for both blood and the living energy within it. There was no trusting any vampire in such a state. “Can you tell me where Linden would have taken them?”

  “No.” It seemed to take great effort for her to mutter that one word. She licked her lips, staring at my neck with undisguised bloodlust. “Please, just help me to the bed upstairs.”

  “Roscoe. Has he been here?” I asked. No way was I touching her. “That bastard drugged me and took Jez. I need to find him. I think he’s working with the blood ring.”

  Her arm dropped to her lap, and she looked positively defeated. She stared right through me, and I was sure she hadn’t heard a word I said. I repeated myself, resisting the urge to shake her. She’d likely crumble to dust in my hands.

  “You smell so good. So strong. If you could spare just a little, just a few drops, I could be better. I could help you.”

  Weakness had given her a one-track mind. She was giving me nothing. Frustration shook me. My mind raced, trying to formulate a way to find my loved ones in this city of insanity. I pulled out my phone, careful to keep an eye on Sloane. There were fifteen missed calls from Kale and four voicemails. It wasn’t his number I selected from my contacts list though.

  I called every one of my missing people. Voicemail for both Shaz and Jez while Arys’s phone was off. Fuck! I made a hasty decision to call on someone I didn’t know I could trust. I was running low on options.

  I listened to it ring, holding my breath for a response. On the third ring, a rough, angry voice barked, “O’Brien! This had better be good. Some of us actually sleep at night.”

  “Briggs, thank God you answered. I need a favor.” The urge to cheer was quickly squelched by tentative worry.

  “Favors don’t come for free, O’Brien. What do you want?” Agent Thomas Briggs of the Edmonton FPA was a hard man, a real ball-buster. Still, he was human, and I knew I had his attention even if it was only from sheer curiosity.

  In my peripheral vision, Sloane struggled to stand. If she got up, I’d have to sit her ass back down.

  “I need you to track a few cell numbers for me.” Explaining my situation as briefly as possible, I felt the weight of it all hit me suddenly, a ton of bricks weighing on my mental faculties.

  I could practically hear Briggs shaking his head at me. “You sure you’re not supposed to be a cat shifter? If anyone needs nine lives, it’s you.” He gave a short, sharp bark of a laugh. “Want me to contact someone at the Vegas HQ?”

  “No,” I said too quickly. “I don’t need the Feds involved. This is vampire business. I just need the one favor. Please.” I didn’t mention that the Vegas FPA had vampire ties that made them even less trustworthy than my home team.

  “Fine. I’ll let you know if I turn up any locations. Remember, O’Brien, I’m entitled to a favor from you now.”

  “That sounds like something a demon would say.”

  “Does it? I guess you would know. I’ll be in touch.”

  He hung up before I could tell him to hurry. I dropped my phone into my bag and turned to Sloane in time to see her launch her pitiful self at me with a snarl. Hands curled into claws, she managed to rake the side of my face before I grabbed her around the throat.

  She put up a good struggle. Bloodlust and weakness had stripped away the vibrant sophistication she’d carried so naturally, leaving her a hollow shell hungry for only one thing. With a push of power, I shoved Sloane back into the chair. Her back arched, and she let out a wail. It took more effort to subdue her than her skeletal appearance led me to believe.

  “Sloane, snap out of it. Tell me where I can find Roscoe.” I gave her a shake and a slap. Her energy was so fragile, it bent so easily to my will. She calmed, blinking at me in wide-eyed confusion. “Where is Roscoe? If you want to help Jenner then you have to tell me how to find Roscoe.”

  I was almost shouting at her. She blinked a few times then nodded vigorously. “Roscoe has a place at The Golden Nugget. He hunts Fremont Street.” Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she moaned. “Just a taste, Alexa, please.”

  “Trust me, you don’t want my blood. You’ll thank me later.” I left her there mumbling and pleading. Though I owed her nothing, I paused long enough to instruct a staff member to get her upstairs and to keep a steady supply of blood flowing.

  I moved as fast as my legs could carry me. Like a bat out of hell, I dashed from the building down the street to Paris Las Vegas where I was able to get a taxi. The cab driver kept flashing me suspicious glances in the rearview mirror, and I realized my wounded neck was exposed. Arranging my hair to hide it, I hoped he would be smart enough to keep his mouth shut. It couldn’t have been the weirdest thing a Las Vegas taxi driver saw in a night.

  His foot grew heavier on the gas pedal, and in five minutes, I was at my destination. “Have a nice night,” I said, tossing some cash and all but leaping out of the vehicle.

  I reached out to feel the vicinity for Roscoe, for anything vampy at all. Making my way down Fremont Street, I checked and rechecked my phone, hoping for something from Briggs. Nothing yet.

  Though the wolfsbane had done a real number on me, the effects had mostly worn off. I felt pretty damn good, and I attributed that to my vampire side. Perhaps the two co-existed better than I thought.

  Fremont Street was a brilliant, loud and chaotic party place. A street party had never looked so good. For several blocks beneath a large, well-lit canopy laid more shops, casinos and street performers than one could possibly enjoy in just one night. A live band drew a healthy crowd, while incredibly talented dancers earned dollar bills for their efforts.

  It had a different vibe than The Strip. A bit more casual and laid back, Fremont Street boasted a family friendly atmosphere. I passed more than one baby stroller as I hastily made my way from one end to the other.

  Worry nagged me. Jez was out there somewhere. I could only wonder what effect the wolfsbane had on her, a naturally born shifter. I prayed her resistance had been better than mine.

  As I passed the stage where a live band performed a Maroon 5 cover, an older lady danced directly into my path. Petite with short blonde hair, large earrings dangled from her lobes. Her eyes were wide, pupils huge. The scent of narcotics in her system had me trying to dodge her. She moved with me, a crooked smile on her thin lips.

  “You can’t save everybody,” she cackled, her body jerking and twisting in a bizarre stoner’s dance. “You can’t even save yourself.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I snapped.

  Her eer
ie grin grew wider, revealing yellow teeth. “A vampire queen with no throne is no queen at all.”

  She danced away into the throng of people gathered around the stage, leaving me staring after her in bewilderment. I continued on, turning over her words in my head. It could have been the intoxicated ramble of a woman on drugs, but I didn’t think so. Narcotics had a way of opening the mind up to things nobody should ever have access to. Sinister things that speak horrible truths.

  The urge to keep peering over my shoulder was strong. She had made me uneasy. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. The more distance I covered, the more certain I was that someone was following me. I opened myself up metaphysically to feel my stalker out. Familiar blood. Roscoe had found me first.

  I kept my pace steady, hurried but not erratic. Leading him off the street into one of the casinos would give me a chance to confront him with fewer witnesses. Weaving my way through slot machines, my pulse pounded in anticipation of when he would jump me.

  When his meaty hand came down on my shoulder, I was ready. I grabbed his wrist and jerked him forward, bending so he went over my back and hit the floor in front of me. I was on him fast, a knee on his chest and a clawed hand around his throat.

  “I’m happy to see you don’t really know as much about me as you think you do,” I growled. “Where the fuck is Jez?”

  “The leopard?” He grunted as my claws pierced his flesh. “Hell if I know. You both went down from the wolfsbane, and I didn’t stick around to find out what happened next.”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me. I will kill you right here. I don’t give a damn how many cameras see me do it.”

  “I’m not lying. I tried to stop you from interfering in business that doesn’t concern you. That’s all.” He clutched my arm in a desperate attempt to dislodge it from around his neck.

  “And Jenner and Arys? Where were they taken?”

  Roscoe’s lips formed a thin white line, and he shook his head as much as he was able. He offered me nothing.