Freak Show (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #7)(41)

“And you’re an ass**le, but I’m willing to overlook that this time.” My relief at seeing a familiar face was fading fast.

His grin vanished. “I can’t wait until Shya’s done with you. The moment he is, and I do mean the very moment, I’ll be there. And you’ll be sorry.”

“I’m already sorry,” I snapped. A shock of pain wracked my brain. I muttered obscenities until it passed.

We glared at one another, each trying to muster greater vehemence in our eyes. Finally, I sighed and shrugged. Falon wasn’t worth the precious time that I had to find my friends.

“Just leave, Falon. We both know this is the last place you want to be.”

Ignoring his hateful stare, I went back to studying the bodies for any trace of werewolf that would give me away to the local FPA. After several silent minutes, Falon sighed dramatically and shouldered me aside.

“Get out of here, Alexa. Go find your twin so Shya doesn’t rain down hell upon either of us. I can’t stay long so let me take care of this while I can.” The air in the room grew thick as Falon’s power rose.

“What are you going to do?” I asked, hesitant, afraid to hear the answer.

Falon turned a wicked smile my way and shook his head. “What do you think I’m going to do? I’m here to clean up your mess. Now beat it.”

I couldn’t trust him, not for a second. Nor could I trust Shya, a demon who only wanted Arys and me alive because of the rare power we possessed. But I wasn’t in a position to argue.

“Fine.” I tugged on my boots, the only item not destroyed by my violent wolf shift. I felt ten times more ridiculous than I looked. “Thanks. I guess.”

I was almost to the door when he said, “Here. I’m sure you’re going to need this.” A thud on the floor and the sharp ting of metal spun me around. My dagger, the Dragon Claw, lay on the floor near my feet. I’d never been so happy to see the demon-forged weapon.

“You were going to let me walk out of here without handing it over, weren’t you?” I picked the dagger up, satisfied with the way it hummed at my touch. It had been made just for me, with a piece of my hair to bind its magic to mine. With just a nick of the blade, it could kill a vampire.

“I’d love to sabotage you, Hound. You’re the enemy, no matter what Shya thinks he can gain from you. But I don’t call the shots.”

I stared at the dagger. It wasn’t small by any means. “How am I going to carry this around the city? I don’t have my leather jacket with me.” I eyed up the black trench coat Falon wore. It would work. “Let me have your jacket.”

“Not a chance. It’s your problem.” He turned his back on me, dismissing me without another word.

“I don’t have time for this shit. Give me your jacket.” I grabbed his sleeve and whirled him around. If I had to tear it off his body, I would.

He raised a hand to fend me off. I grabbed on and refused to be budged. “Falon stop being such a dick. Can you hate me later? I don’t have time for this.”

He gave me a shove that sent me tripping over a body. I fell on my butt in a puddle of blood. “Oh this is just great. Just f**king fabulous.”

With a snarl, I came at him with the Dragon Claw held high. Mocking laughter was the response I got. Angered and impatient, I swung the blade, forcing him to sidestep the attack.

“You can’t kill me,” he gasped out, almost doubled over with laughter. God I hated him. “You stupid wolf.”

“I don’t know. Can angels function without a head?”

I swung again, and he easily caught the blade. It sliced into his palm. I tried to jerk it away, but he held tight. The force of his anger thrummed through the blade, down the handle into my arm. It seared through me, scorching every nerve as it climbed to my shoulder.

“You underestimate me, Alexa. One day, that’s going to stop.”

“You keep singing that song, and it’s getting old. Let go of my dagger you fence riding piece of shit.”

“Oh, is that what you think?” Falon released the dagger with a push of power that forced a shriek from me. “You think fallen angels are simply undecided? I promise you we know exactly where we stand. Your precious Willow included.”

“What does Willow have to do with this?” I held my arm with teeth clenched, willing the pain to fade.

Falon studied me. Whatever he saw, it shut him up. In a fast, fluid motion, he stripped off the jacket and tossed it. “Never mind. You have places to be. Clock’s ticking.”

The smarmy ass knew he had piqued my curiosity, and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it. He was right. I had to go. I quickly rigged the dagger’s scabbard around my waist, hiding it with Falon’s jacket, which was long enough to fall almost to my ankles. Without another word or a backward glance, I darted into the hall and followed the signs to the elevator.

Paris Las Vegas was a nice hotel. There was much to look at. If circumstances had been different, I’d have loved to browse around. As it was, I ran through the lobby to the street beyond.

My body was sore from the violent shift to wolf and back. It didn’t usually hurt like this. I ran through the streets, dodging tourists, until I made it back to Caesars where I ditched the huge men’s clothing for my own lightweight yoga pants and another bra and tank top. I swapped my boots for runners and chugged back a bottle of water.