Forget About Midnight (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #9)(41)

Dayne was as rough around the edges as usual. His short, silver-brown hair matched the rugged stubble on his jaw. Piercing blue eyes pinned me with an angry wolf stare. He stalked up to me with a cigar clenched between his teeth.

His enforcer wolf, Owen, followed at his side. He hung back a little, letting his Alpha take the lead here. I had a sinking feeling that this wasn’t a friendly visit.

“Care to tell me why the f*ck your vampires are hunting my wolves?” Dayne came to a stop much closer than I’d have preferred. The wolf was in his fifties or so, but he carried himself like he was half that age.

“Wait, what?” I held up a hand, trying to wrap my mind around what he’d just said.

“You f*cking heard me,” Dayne growled, blowing a puff of cigar smoke in my face. “One of my wolves is dead. Killed by a vampire. Last I checked, we had an alliance.”

“We do,” I said quickly. “But I don’t know what you’re talking about. Whatever happened, I had nothing to do with it.”

Dayne nodded, and Owen came forward with his phone held out. A photo of a dead werewolf filled the screen. The punctures in his neck had clearly been made by a vampire. This was bad. This was really bad.

“I agreed to take in your wolf. It’s not official yet, but it’s in the works. I’d hate for this shit to ruin that for him. Someone’s gotta pay for this, Alexa.” Dayne towered over me, his fierce wolf eyes burning into my soul.

“I completely agree. Dayne, I’m sorry. Really. There’s no way I’d turn a blind eye to this. If I’d known—”

He cut me off with a guttural snarl. He clenched and unclenched a fist. “You know now. Do something about it. Because if this keeps up, we’re gonna have a full blown war on our hands. And there are no alliances in war. Not between enemies.”

The tall, dark-haired, handsome Owen showed no emotion, but he buzzed with a calm aggression. A leather jacket hid his tattooed arms. Like the last time I’d seen him, a black bandana was tied around his dark head of hair. The crescent moon tattoo on the side of his neck matched Dayne’s. This pack was tight. Something like melancholy envy swam through my soul.

Emotions threatened me. Damn them for being so heightened and out of control right now. I should’ve known the vampires would f*ck this up for me.

“Dayne, I know you may look at me and see a vampire, but I am a wolf. I have been one since I was sixteen, and the wolf is who I am. The vampire is what I am. Please don’t miss how different those two things are. I’m wolf. Please, trust that the wolves mean more to me than the vampires do.” It was a plea, an obvious one. Even though he’d never allow me into his pack, it meant a lot to me that Dayne accept me as a fellow wolf.

Owen shuffled his feet, kicking a stone across the parking lot. “Are you willing to prove that?”

Dayne’s face lit up, and he nodded. I couldn’t help but feel a little offended, but seeing as they had a dead wolf on their hands, I didn’t have much room to defend myself.

“Owen, come on,” I said. “You were there when those vampires jumped me. It’s not as if they’re all following some kind of group structure and rules the way wolves do.”

“Then maybe they ought to be.” Dayne spat on the ground between us and rolled angry wolf eyes toward the club. “The only good vampire is a dead vampire. But I get a good feeling from you. I want to give you a chance to prove you’re not just like the rest of them.”

My gaze strayed from one wolf to the other. They waited, wanting something from me. Something I had to give them.

With a finger bent in invitation, I turned to go back inside. “Follow me.”

I didn’t wait to see if they followed. My heightened emotions were swinging madly. It was no secret that the vampires felt I was a threat, but I’d thought the worst of their rebellion was over. They would not ruin this alliance with the wolves for me. I was done with the rebels. Time to show them.

I stalked back inside, each boot heel clicking on the pavement. There was no hesitation, no second thoughts. I was hungry for violence. Hungry for control. Humans made weak targets. Vampires always made things a little more interesting.

Reaching out to feel those undead gathered in the building, I reveled in the ability to detect them. They couldn’t hide from me even if they wanted to. That included Jenner, whose energy I felt among them.

Passing in front of the stage, I caught the eye of the band’s frontman and slashed my hand through the air, telling him to cut the music. He held up a hand, and the band stumbled to a finish.

Right away the crowd knew something was up. The humans stared around in confusion. Some of them edged away, the regulars who knew trouble when they saw it.

The vampires braced themselves. It didn’t help them though. With a flick of my wrist, the power went out from me, targeting them each in turn. One by one they dropped to their knees, hands on their heads as pained screams rang out.

Not so long ago I’d done something similar and accidentally dropped Kale as well. I was happy to see him untouched this time. My focus was improving nicely, as was the ease with which I commanded my power. I wasn’t missing the headaches and nose bleeds.

“Now,” I spoke in a loud, commanding tone. “Who wants to tell me which one of you idiots killed a Doghead wolf?”

Scanning each vampire in turn, I sought any sign of guilt or acknowledgement. I eased up on them, allowing them to stand, but I was ready to take them down again. Most of them stared stony faced at me, expressions unreadable. A few exchanged a look with one another.