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

His guilt-riddled energy felt abrasive and cold. It wasn’t like him, and I found it irritating. “If you hadn’t done it, Harley would have. Either that, or I’d be dead.”

Arys looked up sharply with a flash of anger in his eyes. “I know. I hate that it had to come to that. He wouldn’t have it any other way. He never could accept you as part of me.”

Nothing in Arys’s expression changed, but I knew how sensitive a subject this was for him. Harley had turned him, effectively ensuring Arys never died a human death and guaranteeing that he would live to see my lifetime. As twisted as that sordid little situation had been, Harley had played his part, to our benefit.

The fact that I’d killed him made Harley a touchy subject. Arys’s true feelings for his sire became evident the night he’d stormed into The Wicked Kiss and grabbed me by the throat while snarling about how my magic pu**y had seduced him.

Remembering it made my temper flare. It was long over and not worth dredging up. Arys loved me, I knew that. Yet that night was evidence of how, even that which bound us, could also divide us.

“Well, I am a part of you, Arys, and we are both part of something else. I just wish you had told me sooner. It would have saved us a lot of trouble.”

He closed the laptop and shoved it aside before reaching for me. I went gladly into his embrace.

“I never meant to keep you in the dark, Alexa. I thought I was protecting you, letting you choose your own path instead of allowing it to be chosen for you.”

I smiled at his wishful thinking; it was endearing. “Our fate was chosen for both of us. Now, let’s figure out what the hell we do with it before it kills us.”

Chapter Three

I stood in the small upstairs bathroom with a blow dryer in hand. My long blonde hair hung almost to my waist in damp chunks. I pulled a brush through it absently, lost in thought. When my hair was dry enough, I applied a light dusting of dark grey shadow to my eyes.

I gazed at my reflection, searching my blue eyes for someone I recognized.

My eyes were deep brown, or at least they were supposed to be. The undead power coursing through me turned them Arys’s drowning blue again.

The mascara wand shook in my hand as I brushed it over my lashes. I was jittery from the blood hunger and power churning inside me. I took a few deep breaths and focused. Steady.

I wore dark slacks and a tight black shirt, casual and easy to move in. The summer night would be warm, but I brought a knee-length leather jacket to hide the dagger at my waist. I wanted to be ready for anything. If someone was going to take me out, I sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy for them.

After a quick trip through the Tim Horton’s drive-thru, I was equipped with an extra-large coffee and the desire to kick some ass. I hit the button to open the sunroof and headed for the highway. I was on my way to see Brogan, Lena’s daughter. She had called because someone had been snooping around her store, asking questions that triggered her suspicions. Naturally, I was curious myself.

Arys had been reluctant to let me go alone. My argument had been that he couldn’t accompany me everywhere. We were going to find out who wanted me dead, but in the meantime, I wasn’t going to hide at home. Besides, I’d be spending the rest of the night with Jez and Kale. I’d be as safe as I could get.

The warm summer breeze ruffled my hair, smelling faintly of rain. It was a gorgeous night. A pale orange streak hovered low over the horizon as the sun’s final light faded. It would be a perfect night to run as wolf.

I usually ran with Shaz and Kylarai, as well as the rest of our local pack, on nights like this. It was as close to pack as we came these days. Several pack members were understandably uneasy with my ties to the vampire world. Considering the danger I was currently in because of it, I couldn’t fault them for that.

I took Whitemud Drive to the south side of the city where Brogan’s magic shop was located. Since her mother’s recent death, Brogan had taken over the store, a fascinating place called Toil and Trouble. The place went unnoticed if one wasn’t looking for it, but to those who practiced magic or sought magical guidance, it was madly popular.

I pulled into the parking lot a half hour before closing. It was empty other than two cars, one of them being Brogan’s little red Honda.

Toil and Trouble was in a busy part of town. Plenty of people passed by on the street, both on foot and by automobile. I watched them all carefully before getting out of my car. I held my power tight inside, ready to use it.

The Dragon Claw sat on the passenger seat. It was a hell of a weapon to carry in public with its ten-inch blade. I slipped the jacket on and slid the dagger into the sheath hanging from the studded belt slung around my hips.

I exited the car and crossed the small parking lot to the door. I reached out psychically, feeling the environment. A myriad of energies swarmed the area as people passed through. It was heavily human and fragmented, as if very few had lingered. Nothing set off my internal alarm.

Inside, the store was brightly lit, momentarily assaulting my eyes. A chime indicated my arrival. Brogan looked up with a smile from her place behind the counter.

Her dirty blonde ponytail bounced as she waved before turning back to the customer she was helping. My inquisitive gaze roamed over him. Young, late teens or early twenties. He was decked out head-to-toe in Goth attire. The black liner was heavy around his eyes, and spikes adorned his throat and wrists. His dyed black hair was long and disheveled.