Blonde & Blue (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #4)(96)

So some witch had been able to see that Arys wasn’t a lone soul? So what? It didn’t mean we were destined to self-destruct. Lena, too, had been aware there was something big between us, but she’d never spoken of doom and gloom, although she had been full of warnings.

I missed her. It hurt to think about her, flashing back to the night she died. I still wished I could have made Maxwell suffer. However, I had a renewed confidence since I’d killed him. I’d said that if anyone had a right to Harley’s place in Vegas, it was me. Knowing that to be true, I didn’t fear anyone or anything coming out of Sin City now. If they came, I’d be ready.

I couldn’t say that I missed Veryl. He was one individual I simply couldn’t mourn. If that made me a bad person, then so be it.

Since his death Lilah had taken over the office. We hadn’t spoken about it much. I didn’t know whether or not the information he had on her had been leaked. I didn’t ask.

Everything else functioned like usual. Jez was back at it, hunting the newborn vamps and Weres that I’d tired of. She enjoyed it, and someone had to take care of that stuff. Kale, like me, had joined Shya’s personal team. I had yet to hear from the demon since the last time I’d seen him. I was still reeling from that night.

I didn’t trust Shya. At this point, I had no reason to. But, I couldn’t shake the feeling that working with him was the right thing to do. If there were forces out there, other supernaturals that were working to expose us all on a grand scale then I had to be involved. My own ass was on the line.

Jez had been going out of her way to avoid Kale. I’d suggested that they talk about it, but she’d declared she wasn’t ready and might never be. When I’d pushed her on it, she had promptly asked if I’d be on her side if she had been the one in love with me instead of Kale. I let it go. I felt bad for Kale, but he’d really f**ked up. Jez would either come around or not.

Abandoning my laptop for the night, I clutched my coffee cup in both hands and watched the rest of the show. It felt weird to just sit and do nothing. I couldn’t help but feel like I should be looking over my shoulder for danger or babysitting the ass**les at The Wicked Kiss. Being in the comfort of my own home, doing something other than sleeping, felt really nice. I needed more of this.

The pizza was good, but it wasn’t what I really wanted. The bloodlust lurked deep inside. It would be unbearable within the next night or two. I didn’t intend to let it reach that point. When Shaz arrived, I would take blood from him. I’d done it before. He could defend himself from me in ways a human couldn’t, a relief, but it wasn’t enough. I still hungered for the kill.

Once I started thinking about it, my moment of normalcy was over. Arys feared the darkness he saw growing within me, his darkness. I had to win this battle.

With a sigh I set my coffee aside and reached for Arys’ journal. Having a written account of events from his life before me was almost too good to be true. What I found inside could open the door to memories locked in my subconscious. I remembered enough of Arys’ memories to know that some were better left hidden from my conscious mind, but it was too late for that. We were part of one another.

I ran a finger over the plain cover. It had worn thin in places and bore the marks of decades of wear. I was nervous and had to laugh at myself. Part of me was afraid to open it and see what was on the first page.

Curiosity and the need to know won out. So much lay ahead. I had to be prepared to take on whatever came our way. Reading this journal could help me do that. Swallowing my hesitation, I bit the bullet and opened the cover.

The first page was written in faded ink. Arys had done a remarkable job preserving it. The date at the top of the page was October, 1849. My gaze fell upon the first line, and my heart dropped.

I saw her again in my dreams, the wolf.

I was shocked, so much so that I had to pause before I could continue. It was almost too much to wrap my mind around, and I’d barely begun. The fact that Arys had never told me this said more about him than I think he’d ever want to admit. He had a vulnerability, and I was it.

I held the journal carefully, as if it would crumble to dust if I gripped it too hard. Taking a few calming breaths, I leaned back on the couch and began to read.