Alexa O'Brien, Huntress 09 - Forget About Midnight
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My phone vibrated in my bag. It was a text message from Jez: Don’t worry about me. I’m at home. It’s all good.
She must have thought I was an idiot or something. Her message was intended to keep me away and to make me stop calling. I wasn’t going to be that easily deterred.
I went out to my car to fetch the change of clothing I always kept in the trunk. It was Werewolf 101 really. Then I headed back inside to Kale’s room to use the shower. Yeah, like that wasn’t going to be weird.
Walking into room number thirteen was a face punch of leather and the residual hum of honey-sweet energy. Maybe I should’ve told Gabriel to take Kale’s room. This was much harder than I’d anticipated.
My gaze took in everything: The half-empty liquor bottle and lipstick-stained cup on the table. The haphazard arrangement of blankets on the bed. The room needed a cleaning. Removing all evidence of Kale from it was a priority.
The bathroom was well stocked with hair care items, body wash, and toothpaste. I paused in the doorway, staring at Kale’s things. How could he possibly fair better in Las Vegas? Kale had barely maintained his sanity here, screwing and bleeding everything in sight. Sin City would destroy him.
Between worry for Kale, the incident I’d just had with Shaz, and the never-ending haunting of Arys always in the back of my mind, I was mentally and emotionally exhausted.
Briefly I considered going into the club to snag myself a victim. Since I couldn’t trust myself not to break my own no-kill rule, I resisted and instead got into the shower.
All of the scrubbing and soap in the world wouldn’t wash off the stains of being inside the FPA building. My body might be cleansed, but smut stained my soul. And I didn’t even care. Not really. I’d gone from overemotional to uncomfortably numb. I couldn’t decide which was worse.
I was standing in the bathroom naked, towel drying my hair, when there was a knock on the main door. Probably some scantily clad little thing coming to bleed for Kale.
After wrapping a towel around me, I rolled blue eyes at my reflection in the mirror and went to answer the door. With my hand on the knob, I hesitated, feeling for the energy of whoever was on the other side.
It wasn’t human. Not vampire either. I got the sense that whoever it was, they were cloaking their identity. That narrowed it down considerably.
“Falon,” I said as I opened the door. “What the hell are you doing here? You’re either incredibly brave or unbearably stupid.”
With hands stuffed in his pockets, Falon leaned against the doorframe, the epitome of forced casual. Dressed differently than the last time I saw him, he almost looked human in jeans and a dark-blue shirt. There was no evidence of the beating he’d taken from Willow.
Silver eyes sparkled with amusement as he assessed my attire, or lack thereof. “And you’re naked. It’s like you knew I was coming or something.”
“Or something,” I said with a scowl. “What do you want?”
“I want to finish our discussion. About Shya.” Falon glanced past me into the room. “Is this a bad time?”
I huffed and clutched at the towel, ensuring it didn’t slip. “It will always be a bad time.”
Falon responded to my scowl with a sneer. “Well, now that you’ve gone and given Shya the damn dreamwalker he wanted, we’re running low on time.”
“What do you mean?” The sound of a door opening down the hall panicked me. I stepped back and motioned for him to enter. “Get your ass in here before someone sees you.”
“You’re ashamed to be seen with me? I’m wounded.” He put his hand over his heart in mock agony.
“Very much, actually. Now that our sex tape is making the rounds, I’m even more ashamed to be seen with you.” I closed the door and locked it before leaning against it.
Falon glanced around the room before taking a seat at the small bistro table. “Our sex tape? You’ve seen it? Is it good? I bet it’s fucking spectacular.”
I waited to feel disgust or nausea. I was just annoyed and starting to think he’d come only to antagonize me. “You’re a pig. Start talking before I think of something ghastly to do to you.” He opened his mouth to shoot me a snarky reply, but I held up a hand. “Don’t even. Just talk.”
“A dreamwalker was the worst possible thing you could have given him,” Falon said, his expression grave. “He’s going to use Briggs to access the dreams of anyone and everyone who knows or has something he wants. Even Lilah. Do understand how dangerous that is?”
At one time I’d wondered what Shya would use a dreamwalker for. The obvious answer was to get inside the dreams of others. But then what? In all of the chaos, I hadn’t considered it much further because I’d never expected to give him what he wanted.
I stared at the pale, white flesh on my forearm where Shya’s mark had been. Gone was the chain that held me to him. I was free. Yet, I wasn’t. Because Falon had just told me that by freeing myself, I’d aided in Shya’s evil endeavors. I felt like an idiot. All I’d cared about was sticking it to Briggs and being rid of Shya’s dragon.
“So I fucked up.” My voice was hollow. I dragged a hand through my wet hair and shoved away from the door.
Falon didn’t miss a beat. “You didn’t just fuck up, you went to great efforts to deliver a weapon straight into Shya’s hands. Good job, wolf. I think death made you dumber.”
A weapon. Of course. The FPA was a collector of people that doubled as weaponry. And so was Shya. He wanted Briggs for the same reason the government op did. Power.
“Clearly. I fucked you, didn’t I?” The glare I shot him was wasted. He grinned right through it.
He shook his head, judging my snarky remark as less than stellar. “Was that supposed to hurt? Not your best zinger, that’s for sure.”
Frustration had me clenching my fists and gritting my teeth. So much for being numb. “What do I do? It’s not like I can go over there and take Briggs back.”
“That’s why I’m here. To explore our options.” Falon cocked his head to one side, studying me, and grinned. “Did you think I came to explore other things? You were good, Alexa. But not that good.”
“I hate you,” I muttered, chewing a fingernail as I pondered this.
“I hate you?” Falon echoed. “You’re usually much better at this.”
This was happening sooner than I’d anticipated. If someone had told me months ago that I’d be teaming up with Falon for any reason, I’d never have believed it. What a joke.
“Get to the point. I have places to be.” My impatience wasn’t feigned. I was standing in the middle of the room in a towel.
Falon grinned, enjoying my growing ire, but he was straight faced when he spoke. “Our best option is to do a binding. To an object. We need Gabriel to do the spell.”
Brow furrowed, I clutched my towel tighter. “Sounds too simple. What are you leaving out?”
“Just a few things. Your divine Hound blood to spark the spell. Gabriel’s witchy self. And something from Shya. A feather, to be specific.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “The hard part is obviously the feather. We don’t want him to know what we’re doing. Getting that feather will not be easy.”
“Can’t we just bind him the way he bound Lilah?” I asked, still so unfamiliar with all of the demon magic stuff. “Willow could do it.”
Falon glowered at the mention of Willow. “Not necessary. Shya bound Lilah’s power. She was still walking around free. Gabriel has more than enough power to trap him in an object, one that we have control of.”
“We?” That word didn’t sit well with me.
“Fine. You. Whatever you want.”
It sounded simple, but it wouldn’t be. The spell might be doable but getting a feather from Shya without him knowing sounded near impossible.
“I’ll talk to Gabriel,” I said, mind racing as I sought a way to pull this off.
“Can we trust him? He’s been keeping his distance from Shya, but that doesn’t mean shit. If anyone or anything
tips him off, we’re fucked.” Falon rambled on. I started to tune him out.
As he talked I retreated into myself. This was too much for me. I needed time to process. To think. Naked in a towel with Falon yattering on wasn’t the time.
I nodded absently to something he said though I wasn’t listening. The feelings I’d buried regarding Shaz’s unrealistic expectations, Kale’s rejection, and Willow’s advice all threatened to surface. Having my reckless choice to hand Briggs over come back to haunt me so soon was the crap icing on my shit cake.
There was much to be done. Willow’s advice was already proving itself true. I was still a Hound. My purpose still involved battling evil, whether that be Shya, the Feds, or the sick pigs who preyed on the kids Brinley cared so much about. So I would do what I had to do. I just had to find my way out of the madness first. That wasn’t going to happen tonight.
“Falon.” I glided over to him with the smooth, prowling gait of a predator. A gentle breeze of power blew through the room. I let the towel fall. “Shut up.”
Our gazes locked. His words died mid-sentence. I climbed onto his lap, straddling him. And though it wasn’t in his nature, Falon was speechless.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Jez.” I banged on the apartment door, ready to break in if I had to. “I know you’re in there, Jez, so open the door, or I’m coming in anyway.”
Getting into the locked building had been a breeze. It took very little effort to manipulate a lock. Just one of Jez’s neighbors was brave enough to poke her head into the hall to see who was making such a commotion. The lady who peered out at me from the other end of the hall must not have liked what she saw because she closed the door and locked it.
There was no obvious sound from inside, but if I listened carefully, I could hear the murmur of voices. The longer I stood there knocking without an answer, the more worked up I became. If something happened to Jez right after Kale left town… no, not an option.
I’d planned to be there earlier, before I was distracted by Falon. Once he’d scratched the dark itch I hadn’t realized I had, I’d promptly kicked him out of my nightclub. Since we couldn’t work on binding Shya tonight there had been no reason for him to stay any longer once he’d served the purpose I’d wanted from him.
“That’s it, Jez,” I said. “Last warning.”
No answer.
Busting the door down would have been a nice, dramatic way to enter. Since I didn’t want anyone calling the cops, I manipulated the lock with a gentle power push instead. It clicked, and I entered.
The kitchen was dark, and I crossed through it to the empty living room where a lamp cast a dim glow. Voices drifted from Jez’s bedroom. Perhaps I was interrupting an intimate encounter, but something about the energy in the apartment felt off. Wrong. There was more to it.
I banged on her bedroom door and waited. Both voices fell quiet. The rustling of fabric was evident seconds before the door cracked open.
Jez peered out at me, eyes heavy lidded and unfocused. She clutched a sheet much the same way I’d grasped my towel not so long ago. “Alexa? What the hell are you doing here?” She giggled and glanced back at someone I couldn’t see yet. “Is this for real, or am I totally tripping?”
“Oh, this is real.” The narcotics in her system smelled rancid. Toxic. She looked pretty far gone. “I’m coming in.”
I shoved the bedroom door open, and she stumbled back, reaching for me as she tried to catch her balance. I grabbed her arm and steadied her, trying to keep calm. Getting angry wouldn’t help the situation.
An unkempt brunette sat in the bed, holding a blanket up over her nudity. She was as toxic as Jez, perhaps more so since she was human. The bedside table was littered with bottles, cigarette ashes, and a bag of white powder. One of the bottles was overturned, spilling beer onto the floor.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked, grabbing Jez by the shoulders so she was forced to meet my gaze.
It didn’t do much good. Her eyes darted about erratically, like she couldn’t look at just one thing. “Call you? Sorry, Lex. I know you’re a fan of the group thing, but I didn’t think you were into girls.” She cackled with far more enthusiasm than her stupid comment warranted.
The woman in the bed watched us with curious amusement.
“Jez, you’re the one who said we needed to help each other through this shit.” Because I couldn’t resist, I slapped her, hoping it would snap her out of it like it sometimes did on TV. It produced more giggles. I pointed at the woman in the bed. “You need to leave. Do you have somewhere safe to go where you won’t be alone?”
She stared at me with large, solemn, doe-like eyes. “I can go home. My sister should be there.”
“Fine. Get dressed. I’ll get you a cab.” I let go of Jez and turned to leave before I did something more drastic, like throwing a closed fist at the laughing leopard.
“Oh, come on, Lex,” she called after me. “Don’t be a party pooper.”
“Five minutes,” I said.
Out in the living room I paced. Dealing with a drugged out shifter was not my area of expertise. I was so angry at Jez for pulling a stunt like this so soon after the talk we’d had. Anger wouldn’t help, I knew that. But it was driven by worry.
I called a taxi for Jez’s lady friend and watched for it out the living room window. Bursting in like a glorified babysitter was not what I wanted. She was right though. We did need each other’s help. So much so that maybe some babysitting was in order. Sad but true.
I thought about what I’d just done with Falon. Again. Did that count as part of my addiction to blood, power, darkness, and misery? Maybe Jez was getting the better deal here.
The bedroom door opened, and her friend came out, shaky and off center. Jez followed her, now dressed in yoga pants and a tank top, a cigarette hanging from her lips.
“You stay here and make some coffee,” I said. “I’m taking your friend down to the taxi.”
“Aye, aye, Captain No-Fun-At-All.” She saluted me, cracking herself up.
When I returned from ensuring her friend got safely into a taxi, Jez had coffee brewing. She stood in the kitchen, leaning heavily on the counter, watching the coffee pot fill. Her amusement had vanished. In its place was self-loathing, something I easily identified.
“Are you going to be ok?” I asked, no longer irritated, just concerned.
She puffed on a cigarette, leaning over to flick the ashes in the sink. “Yeah. I’m not going to die on you or anything.”
We stood there staring at each other. It wasn’t awkward or tense, just two junkies sharing, not a drug of choice, but a weakness. A thought occurred to me. “Where are you getting all of this drug money anyway? Please tell me you’re not doing any weird favors for Arrow.”
Smoke spewed from between her red lips. “I don’t do the kind of favors Arrow’s interested in. Actually, I got my P.I. license. I’ve been doing some private eye stuff. Since Veryl died and the money died with him, I had to do something. It involves an element of the hunt, and I like that.”
Jez as a private eye. I could totally see that. “You scared me, Jez. I can’t lose you.”
Her disheveled golden ponytail bounced as she nodded. “I know. I fucked up.”
“You and me both.” I sighed, wishing I could feel bad about Falon, wishing I could feel anything.
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” she said suddenly. Her voice caught as she choked on a sob. “But I don’t know how to stop.”
She rubbed a hand over her face and squished out her cigarette in the sink before reaching into the cupboard for a mug. When she produced two out of habit, she gave me a tight smile and put one back. She poured a mug of coffee, and I envied her.
“We’ll get through this. We just have to do it together.” I laid a hand on her arm. Her beast took note of mine, and she turned toward me, seeking comfort. Pulling her close, I hugged her, keeping an eye on the hot coffee she held. I didn’t want to end up wearing it.
“I can’t be alone, Lex. I do bad things, and I don’t even want to stop once I get started.” She twisted a lock of my hair around a finger, absently observing, “You have such pretty hair. Don’t cut it off, ok?”
Her thoughts were scattered. I knew the feeling. Being alone wasn’t a fear I had. Being alone made it easier to keep from hurting other people. However, I was aware of how dangerous my comfort with solitude could be. I was already isolated from so many people I loved.
“Maybe we should move in together for a while,” I suggested. “We can be roomies. Keep each other out of trouble.”
Jez pulled back to search my face. “Really? Wouldn’t that drive you crazy? I know you like your space.”
“Says the solitary cat.” I gave her a playful nudge. “No, really. I think it may be good for us. We both need a safe place outside of this toxic city. Too much time here is driving us both nuts.”
The city was a cesspool of trouble. It catered to the dark side in everyone: drugs, sex, blood, and power in abundance. At least in my small town down the highway, we had a reprieve from most of that, not to mention the forest outside my backyard. The wolf within me was wistful at the thought.
“It’s going to be so hard.” Her voice was so small.
“It will be,” I agreed. “But we have to start somewhere.”
Jez clutched her coffee mug so hard her knuckles were white. I half expected it to shatter. Her eyes were haunted. “Sometimes I think I feel it. The dark thing inside me. Since you told me, I think I feel it, and then I think I must be going crazy. It scares me.”
It scared me too. Jez was one of my favorite people and one of the few who’d been able to be what she was without risk of the dark consuming her. Little did we know it was just lying in wait. But what was it waiting for?
“We’ll figure it out.” I tried to be nonchalant, playing off how dire I believed the situation was. The dark wasn’t just within us. It was actively pursuing us, and I feared there was no way to outrun it. “One thing at a time.”