Death Wish (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #5)(26)

“One job, Brook. I asked you to keep tabs on one person, and you failed. I have no further use for you.” Shya held up a hand, holding off Falon’s assault while he glared daggers at their hostage. “You’ve become a liability.”

“I’ll do anything. Please! You know how he is. It wasn’t my fault!” The demon’s eyes were solid black as he gazed up at Shya pleadingly. The desperation and fear emanated from him in thick waves that assaulted my finely tuned senses. Demon energy was heavy and oppressive. I wasn’t a fan.

“What do you think?” Shya turned to Falon with an inquisitive expression.

Falon’s silver wings stretched out behind him. A pure angel had white wings, but he was tainted. From shoulder to floor, they were still massive and gorgeous, far more beautiful than the black wings Shya possessed. Currently, Shya’s were absent from sight, either by sheer illusion or demon magic, I didn’t know.

Falon fixed Brook with a hard stare as he fondled the bottle of holy water. “Send his ass back to hell.”

I stiffened at the malice in his tone. Everything that came out of Falon’s mouth made me shocked that he’d ever been an angel. He was his own special brand of evil.

“Oh come on, Shya,” Brook begged. “You can’t let a goddamn fence rider decide my fate. He’s not one of us.” His anxious gaze landed on me where I stood trying to be invisible. “Might as well let the werewolf choose if you’re going to let an undecided angel do it.”

There was a sudden commotion as Falon advanced on Brook. Forcing a drop of holy water into his open mouth, Falon stepped back with grim satisfaction, watching the smoke rise from the face of the wailing demon. The whole scenario sickened me.

Shya turned to me with a look I couldn’t quite interpret. “That’s not a bad idea.”

“Oh, no.” I shook my head vigorously. “I can’t do that. Please, don’t bring me into this.”

Fear clawed its way up my throat, choking off my words. Shya scared the living hell out of me, but I was digging in my heels on this one. Just weeks ago I’d watched Shya and Falon kill a preacher. Whatever they were up to, I wanted no part of it.

“Look at her shaking like a frightened little girl,” Falon scoffed. “You can’t be serious, Shya. She’s here for one thing, and this isn’t it.”

I was not shaking. Falon’s derogatory attitude had me biting back an ugly retort. I did agree though. I wasn’t here for this.

Shya looked amused. “Fair enough. This has taken long enough. We have other business to get to.” To Brook he said, “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today. Consider this your last chance. Next time you let me down, I’ll see you burning in the pit where you belong.”

Brook sank back in his chair in relief, the heavy silver bindings on his wrists jingled with his movements. Silver didn’t work on vampires or werewolves the way Hollywood would have one think. It did, however, work on demons.

Falon took his sweet time freeing the demon from his bonds, but I began to breathe a little easier. Shya’s large modern home was sweltering, and I couldn’t wait to leave. I didn’t know if he really lived there or if it was merely a prop, but it was a nice place. Pricey. A second floor overlooked the main floor where we stood. The high ceilings and wide, open rooms made the place feel huge.

No sooner was Brook freed than he sprung out of the chair and unfurled his big black wings. His face bore the marks of the holy water. Battered and burnt, he glowered at Falon before disappearing in a burst of black smoke. The stench of sulfur choked me.

“Go,” Shya ordered Falon, his head inclined slightly toward a door on the opposite side of the living room. “Get the wolf.”

“Wolf?” I sputtered. “What’s going on?”

I hadn’t sensed anyone else in the house with us, but the moment that door swung open, I could feel it. Something wasn’t right with Shya’s basement. A chill crept up my spine. Instinctively, I wanted to flee the house. Whatever Shya had going on down there, it was bad.

A series of bangs and curses rose from the stairwell. Falon appeared in the doorway with a bloody, beaten man. He smelled like wolf, but I didn’t recognize him. Falon dragged him across the room and flung him at my feet.

Shya ambled up beside me, his arms crossed over his chest. Eyeing me, he nodded toward the man on the floor.

“We’ve got a little problem here. This wolf has made some serious trouble recently. Enough trouble to get him killed. But, since he claims that you’re the one who turned him, that decision falls into your hands.”

Shocked didn’t begin to describe my reaction. “What? I’ve never turned anybody.”

“That’s a lie.” The man knelt before me, sullen and angry. “You attacked me on the street. Some guy pulled you off me and I ran.”

Oh, shit. It hit me like a bitch slap in the face. I remembered him. That night Arys had found me at The Wicked Kiss after he’d warned me to stay away. It had been more than a warning. He’d outright threatened me, but I’d gone there anyway to seek answers from the one person I knew who had them, Harley. Arys and I had a shouting match in the parking lot before I’d ended up at a bar drowning my sorrows and ultimately losing control on a stranger outside. And, here he was.

“You’re right. That was me.” I stared down at his face, trying to see it in my memory. I couldn’t. He looked back at me boldly, refusing to show fear. “I’m sorry.”