Junkyard Queen (Alexa O'Brien Huntress Book 12)

by Trina M. Lee

  “Yeah, I can deal. I’ll find Willow.” Beyond that there wasn’t any promise I could make. Finding him was one thing. Bringing him back from the edge he’d plummeted over? Well, that was another.

  Smudge had just reached the door when it flew open. Falon burst in with wings flared. He shoved a finger in her face, causing her to recoil in instant irritation. “Why the hell wasn’t I notified about this?” he demanded, silver eyes flashing with ire. “If you went over my head to Nova, I’ll have your head on a platter, Smudge. You know he’s not on the front line.”

  “Get the hell out of my face.” With a caustic scowl she slapped his hand away. “I went to Alexa and only Alexa. So far. Now back off, shithead.” Not intimidated in the least, she shoved by him with such aggression he was forced to tuck his wings in close to keep from having her crash through one.

  “Bitch,” Falon muttered to Smudge’s retreating form.

  Without a glance back she held up a middle finger and was gone. I liked her.

  Falon’s gaze swept over me as he approached the altar. Coming to a stop beside the body, he took in the gruesome kill with little more than a passing appraisal. Considering I’d watched him kill a preacher, his indifference came as no surprise.

  “Was anyone going to tell me about this?” Flinging a hand toward the body, Falon turned his irritation on me.

  Right away I bristled, bothered by his attitude. My wolf peered out at him, ready to defend. “I just found out myself. Kind of trying to process the whole scenario. So don’t fucking start with me.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re surprised, Alexa.” Brow raised, Falon assessed my reaction to the scene. He chuckled. “Honestly, I’m only surprised that it didn’t happen sooner.”

  “Well, I didn’t ask your opinion.” My heart hurt. I didn’t want Falon to see how deeply this wounded me. “So are you here to clean up? Because I can’t see what else you have to contribute.”

  Arms crossed over his chest, wings tucked in close, Falon ignored my jibe. He watched me with hawk-like intensity. “Now comes the hard part of your job, wolf. We have a witness to get rid of and a demon running amok. How do you plan to solve those problems?”

  My temper began to simmer, on a steady climb to a boil. “Arys is taking care of the witness. She won’t remember anything. As for Willow… I’ll handle it.”

  A stare off ensued. As much as I enjoyed a good argument with Falon, now was not the time. One of my dearest friends had committed a horrific act, and it was all I could do not to cry bloody tears of sorrow and heartbreak. Because I couldn’t save Willow from himself the way he’d saved me. And I was not in the mood to deal with Falon and the snotty expression he wore.

  “How?” Such a simple yet loaded question. The fallen angel appeared quite pleased with himself at so easily stumping me. “He’s a demon, Alexa. He’s not your friend anymore.”

  My fists clenched. “He will always be my friend. Not that I’d expect you to understand.”

  Falon shrugged off my poor attempt at an insult like water off a duck’s back. “I understand that you’re feeling defensive, but that doesn’t change anything. Willow has to be stopped. The angels of The Circle will step in, and if they do, you’ll probably never see him again.”

  “I said I’ll handle it,” I snapped. “Just give me a chance to talk to him.”

  “That’s not really up to me. He kicked an angel’s ass to get in here. That won’t go unpunished.” For a mere moment Falon almost seemed to feel sorry for me, since I knew damn well he didn’t give a shit about Willow.

  I rubbed my forehead and squeezed my eyes shut tight. Were vampires supposed to get migraines?

  The door opened, and we both looked up to find Arys backlit in the glow of the street lights beyond.

  He noted my obvious upset and Falon’s arrogant sneer. “Everything ok in here?” Arys jerked a thumb toward the door. “We should take off. There’s nothing more we can do here now.”

  Dayne and Willow. In the same night. Where did I even begin?

  “Yeah, it’s fine. I’m just in disbelief. It’s hard to take in.” Again I found my gaze drawn to the carnage.

  “Disbelief?” Falon scoffed. “More like denial. I can see it all over your face. Don’t make excuses for this, or Willow will take you down with him.”

  Father Andrew had been so kind to me. We’d shared something, he and I. A demon mark. A debt to Shya, the worst kind of evil. But this had nothing to do with Shya who was safely locked away. This was so much worse.

  My already short temper burned even shorter. “You’ve killed a priest, Falon. What gives you the right to sit in judgment on this?”

  With a dramatic flare he flopped down in a pew, frowning in discomfort when it proved hard and inflexible. He began rifling through the hymn books, service programs, and information sheets tucked into a rack on the back of the pew in front of him.

  “The preacher I killed was a traitor to both sides.” Waving toward the murder scene with a hand that held a hymnbook, Falon muttered, “I don’t know what the hell this is. The product of a slow, insane descent into darkness I suppose.”

  Across the distance I met Arys’s gaze. “I guess I should find him.”

  “Yeah, you better get on that,” Falon quipped. “There’s no telling what he could be up to right this minute.”

  “Not helping.” I bared wolf fangs at the asshole angel.

  With a smirk, he winked a silver eye at me. “Not trying to.”

  “As much as I’d like to tell you off, I can’t focus on that right now. I’ll be sure to add it to my to-do list for later.” Unable to be in the church any longer without screaming in frustration, I headed for Arys and the door.

  Falon’s voice echoed in the large, empty building. “Looking forward to it. I prefer it when you bring your A game. It’s no fun when you don’t try.”

  Having no patience for him, I didn’t reply. I joined Arys and shoved outside into the winter night.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It came as no surprise that Willow’s phone was off. Not all that tech friendly, he rarely used it. Although it sure would’ve been nice if he’d get with the times.

  I tried muttering his name beneath my breath, calling to him with both voice and energy as I focused intently on my fallen friend. No response meant simply that he didn’t want to be found. And should he change his mind about that, he’d let me know.

  Unless the angels had already gone after him?

  I certainly couldn’t blame them. However, I hoped for Willow’s sake that was not the case.

  Sitting in my car with Arys, I stared at the church. The once beautiful, inviting building now seemed so foreboding.

  “Willow will show up when he’s ready.” I fiddled with the radio, surfing from the Top 40 station to the rock station. I recognized the song as Crimson Sin, the local band that played my nightclub regularly, and turned it up. “So I guess that means we should go pay Dayne a visit.”

  Arys didn’t bother trying to hide his pleasure at that plan. Rubbing his hands together in dramatic bad guy fashion, he smirked. “Time to wage our takeover.”

  “Not quite.” I shook my head of long blonde locks, scowling when a sharp tug on my scalp revealed a piece caught in the car door. “I’m not waging anything just yet. Are you going to be able to keep your shit together at Doghead?”

  No point tiptoeing around the subject. Arys had a problem, and I was done pretending it wasn’t as bad as it had become. Since the night he tried to kill me in the FPA building, I’d quit trying to handle the situation with kid gloves.

  I opened the door to free my hair, slammed it shut, and turned back to find him regarding me with a perfect poker face. So clearly I’d ticked him off a little.

  “I’m confined in this tiny space with you and able to keep from painting the interior with your blood.” He kept his tone carefully controlled and even. “Pretty sure I can manage to restrain myself.”

  To be fair, the FPA building housed a
great evil capable of stripping a vampire down to the most primitive aspects of its nature. In some respects it hadn’t been Arys’s fault that he’d lost his mind that night. However, the evil could only bring out ugly urges that already existed.

  Arys had lived centuries knowing he’d take my life. Somehow the rush of that short-lived event had only fed his hunger for my death. Needless to say, that introduced a new, unwelcome strain between us at times. Times like this.

  “Don’t be like that, Arys. I think I’m entitled to a little concern here.”

  The engine ran, keeping the inside of the car comfortably warm despite the bitter cold outside. A cold that didn’t affect me as it once had. But that didn’t stop me from warming my hands in front of the vent. So comforting.

  His unreadable expression gave way to a slight grin. “It’s been at least a month since I’ve tried to kill you, my love. Cut me a little slack, hmm?”

  “A month and counting.” I playfully punched his shoulder. No need for this to take us down the road to an argument. As much as I enjoyed the passion-fueled conflict we shared, we had no time for the resulting steamy sex.

  “Nor have I bled any other wolf. Now let’s go put a little fear into Dayne. The man needs it.”

  He caught my fist before I could punch him a second time and kissed my knuckles. A tiny slip of his tongue against the sensitive skin between my fingers sent a tremor through me. Damn this man and his magic touch.

  I stared at Arys, drunk on the very sight of him. Short black hair, long enough to be a sexy mess, like he’d just rolled out of bed after a romp. Magnificent deep-blue eyes that beckoned. Perfectly chiseled features that no man should possess. The silver ring through his bottom lip teased me. It was all I could do to keep from nibbling it.

  With great difficulty I pulled away and turned my attention to driving. “Save the rest of that for later.”

  Pleased with himself, Arys settled back in his seat, tilting it so he reclined in comfort. His sensual laugh sent a shockwave of delight to my nether regions.

  Cruising through the city streets, we passed an endless stream of holiday décor. Christmas lights and trees that wouldn’t be taken down for weeks yet, despite the holiday having passed.

  Shaz and I had spent Christmas with Kylarai as we had for years. Despite the recent upheaval in our lives, that wouldn’t be changing. Ky’s new husband, Coby, and Allie, the teen they’d taken in, were now part of the tradition. Arys, having seen enough Christmases to hate it for the commercialized drivel he felt it was, opted out. His loss.

  New Year’s Eve was just a few nights away. I anticipated shenanigans at the city’s many parties, including one at The Wicked Kiss.

  My holiday cheer vanished as we turned into the parking lot of the warehouse-style Doghead clubhouse. Shaz’s new black Jeep Cherokee was parked near the door. Other than a smattering of other vehicles, the lot was relatively empty.

  We’d barely reached the door when we were met by Owen, Dayne’s enforcer. A blue bandana wrapped around his head, he wore a shirt with cutoff sleeves that exposed his beefy, tattooed arms. “Can’t let you in, Arys.” Owen crossed his arms over his wide chest. “Hanna gave firm orders on that.”

  “Aww, come on, Owen. I don’t mean any harm. Just here to accompany my lady.” Arys laughed off the fact that he’d proven himself to be a threat.

  That kind of shit tended to happen after starting a brawl and biting the Alpha female of the pack. Couldn’t say I blamed Hanna for fearing Arys. Of course, I did blame her for making a play for Shaz while on a bender. As far as I knew, Dayne had no idea. Not that I had any plan to enlighten him. That kind of thing had a way of coming out on its own.

  “I need to talk to Dayne,” I said. “No trouble. Just a chat.”

  Owen stared down at me. Brow furrowed, mouth set in a hard line, he wouldn’t budge. “You can come in, Alexa. The vampire stays outside.”

  I slid Arys a wordless glance that spoke volumes.

  Amusement danced in his eyes. He shrugged.

  I sighed. “Just tell Dayne I’m here. If he doesn’t come out, we come in. Both of us.” Throwing down the gauntlet hadn’t been my intent, but if Dayne wanted to make this difficult, then difficult it would be.

  Owen shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Is that really necessary?”

  “He’s been turning wolves against their will, Owen. I met one of them tonight. A kid barely eighteen. Do you think it’s necessary?” I trusted that Owen would see this my way. From what I knew of him, he wasn’t a bad guy. Loyal to a fault though, which might be helpful now.

  To his credit Owen appeared genuinely surprised. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I am. Dayne’s trying to rebuild the pack. And I get it. But this isn’t the way. You’ve gotta know that.”

  “Shit.” Owen stepped toward the door and paused. “You know, I suspected he was up to something. He’s been secretive lately and moody as a motherfucker. What the FPA did, he can’t let it go.”

  “What do you mean he can’t let it go? What else has he said?” Curious, yet not unexpected, Dayne never struck me as the type to let anything go, much less the murder of most of his pack.

  Owen seemed uncertain, like he didn’t want to say too much. “He wants revenge. And so do I. But I didn’t know he was turning people. I’ll get him. Just promise me you won’t hurt him.”

  “That’s up to Dayne.” It was the best I could offer.

  Taking on Dayne would mean taking on Owen too. Not that I didn’t think Arys and I could handle them both, but my goal had always been peace with the Doghead wolves. Nothing had changed that.

  When Owen disappeared back inside, I turned to Arys with a warning on my lips.

  “Don’t expect him to play nice,” Arys cut me off. “You can resist all you want, but he’s going to force our hand. Mark my words, Alexa, we will be taking over this pack.”

  With an irritated huff I blew hair out of my face and gave him the stink eye. Unfazed, he crossed his arms and watched the door.

  Dayne threw it open with a bang and strode outside with a snarl. Cigar clamped between his teeth, he marched right up to Arys and threw a heavy fist right in his face. There was no way Arys didn’t see the punch coming, but he chose to take it anyway. Right away that set me on guard.

  “That’s for laying fangs on my wife, you son of a bitch. You’re lucky I don’t fucking stake you for the shit you pulled.” Satisfied with the hit, Dayne stepped back and shook out his hand.

  Rubbing his jaw, Arys chuckled. “I’m so glad you did that.”

  “Oh yeah? You gonna hit me, vampire? Bring it on.” So bold it was stupid, Dayne puffed a cloud of cigar smoke into Arys’s face.

  Behind Dayne lingered Owen and Shaz. They watched from the doorway, each of them tense, ready to step in.

  “Now why would I bother with something as menial as a punch when I can hit you where it hurts and simply take over what’s left of your pack?” Cold as ice, Arys dropped his retort with ease.

  Inside I screamed. What the hell was he thinking? No, I knew what he was thinking. I cringed.

  Dayne puffed away on that cigar just glaring daggers into Arys. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before that happens. They’d never follow you.”

  “No, probably not.” Arys tipped his head toward me. “But they’d follow her.”

  “Ok, we’re here for a reason, and this isn’t it.” Voice raised, I all but shouted at the two of them. “So if you can put the ball-weighing bullshit aside, I’d like to talk now.”

  Holding Arys’s gaze until he backed off, I planted myself between him and Dayne. Turning to meet the crystal-blue gaze of the Doghead Alpha, I didn’t bother with any beating around the bush. “I know you’re turning people, Dayne. And I know they’re not all willing. Care to explain yourself?”

  “To you?” A plume of cigar smoke tickled my nose as he laughed. “Sweetheart, I don’t owe you shit, least of all an explanation.”

  I nodded to Owen. “
What about him? Or Shaz? Hanna? Do you owe them one? They’re the ones you’ve endangered with your reckless bullshit. You can’t just run the streets turning people at will.”

  Dayne glanced at Owen and Shaz who awaited his response. “In case you forgot, Alexa, I’m the Alpha here. I owe them nothing but the protection of a strong pack. Which I’m working on. Not that it’s any business of yours.” He made as if to turn away and head back inside.

  I caught his arm, holding him in place. “In case you forgot, I’m just one of many trying to keep our secrets in this city. Fuck that up, and I’m the one they’ll send to hunt you down. Is that how you plan to protect your wolves?”

  Dayne glowered at my hand on his arm.

  I didn’t let go.

  “I’ll handle my business; you handle yours. Now get your damn hand off me.” Dayne jerked away and I let him. A headstrong, stubborn man, he didn’t care about the consequences. Seemed to be a trend in this city.

  Yet I couldn’t just let him walk away. After what I saw tonight in the church, Dayne’s moody shit was of little interest to me. But I could still see Ash’s terrified stare in my mind. And that did matter.

  “Don’t turn anyone else, Dayne,” I warned. “It stops now. Instead of trying to rebuild your numbers so fast, maybe you should focus on those still here. They need you.”

  “Yes,” Arys joined in, his tone sly and dangerous. “Especially your drunken wife. Might want to take the time to keep her happy, so she stops trying to suck off your other wolves.”

  I couldn’t decide who looked more shocked, Shaz or Dayne. Hell, even Owen had a raised-brow expression that made me think perhaps Hanna had turned her attention on him as well.

  The F-bomb on my lips never got to drop.

  Flicking his cigar aside, Dayne flung himself at Arys. Catching the vampire around the waist, he used his burly frame to take Arys down. They hit the ground and rolled. Grunts and growls filled the night. Fists flew. Dayne’s claws sought to do the greatest damage one could do to a vampire. With a burst of well-focused energy, Arys threw Dayne off. Having the speed advantage, Arys grabbed the wolf by his jacket and pinned him against Shaz’s new Jeep.