Freak Show (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #7)(57)

They took me to a super swanky SUV limo parked outside. I was shoved into a dark leather interior and crammed between Linden’s guys. The long black seat ran in an L shape down one side of the vehicle, curving behind the driver. A brightly lit bar filled the space across. TV screens mounted in several places played a muted movie.

The scent of cologne and whiskey permeated the car. I wrinkled my nose and tried not to sneeze. I wasn’t afraid, which was a pleasant realization. It might have been the angel blood or possibly the fact that I knew I would die by Arys’s hand.

Of course, I was certainly wary. A “mob boss” guy like Linden thrived off the fear of others. Even if he didn’t kill me, there was little chance of me emerging from this entirely unscathed.

Sloane slipped into the limo behind Linden, and I groaned inwardly. I couldn’t stand to look at her Hollywood-chic face. With her makeup expertly in place and a gown that could have graced a red carpet, I couldn’t help but wonder why she fought so hard to hide behind illusion. Besides, her soul was ugly; no amount of cosmetics would hide that.

Linden banged on the partition separating us from the driver, and the SUV lurched forward. Then he nudged a lackey who produced a set of government issued FPA handcuffs designed to inhibit the power of someone like me.

“You’re a f**king FPA agent, aren’t you? Son of a bitch.” I surrounded myself with a shield of energy that cast a warm glow throughout the vehicle.

“I am.” Linden nodded and pulled a cell phone from his pocket. “I see you’re familiar with these.” He gestured to the cuffs. “So you know why I have to insist you wear them. We can all play nice, or I can make a call and have a body part removed from the wolf. Your call.”

He held the phone ready, finger poised to hit send. I burned with boiling hot hatred. And I dropped my shield. I held my hands out before me, allowing those wretched cuffs to imprison my power for the third time. Perhaps I should have taken Briggs up on his offer to help. Somehow, I didn’t think he knew the Las Vegas unit had a vampire like Linden in their employ, or that he was running a very shady underground side business.

“I’m happy to see you can be reasonable,” Linden continued, smiling like I wasn’t giving him a death glare. “This doesn’t have to be all bad, you know. I have many clients that treat their blood slaves quite well.”

“Does the FPA know about your business venture?” I asked, refusing to be intimidated by him in any way. “I didn’t think they were into that kind of thing, though from what I’ve seen, one can never be sure with them.”

Linden began to select bottles from the bar, holding them up as an offering. I recognized a pricey whiskey that I used to drink back at Raoul’s house, long before he had died. I nodded to that one.

“No, the FPA tries to uphold their squeaky clean mission statement. My business is only mine.” He poured a generous amount of whiskey into a crystal glass and pressed it into my hands. “Although, being FPA does have its perks. As you can see.”

It certainly did. I wouldn’t mind having a set of FPA handcuffs myself, just in case. When I got home, I’d have to see if Briggs would be willing to slip me a pair. He would have his price of course.

I tried to hear the thoughts of those surrounding me. Since Sloane’s mention of angel blood, they had all shut up their minds tightly.

Speaking of angels, where the hell was Falon? The ass**le had ditched me. Letting Linden sell me off as a blood slave would get me out of his hair. He was probably concocting a story for Shya right now.

Shya was a strange one. He could go from threatening my life to claiming he needed me alive in the same sentence. I didn’t doubt that he would come for me at some point. However, I was not his damsel to save, and I would rather die than be further indebted to the demon.

A shrill, piercing screech bounced around inside my head as Falon’s blood became too much for my mortal body. It needed release. I sipped the fine whiskey and squinted through the pain.

I swung my accusing stare to Sloane who sat stiffly near the door. As much as I loathed that bitch right then, I knew she was my only shot at manipulating someone on the inside. Whether we liked it or not, we shared a bloodline. Appealing to that side of her might be my only chance at finding an ally among so many monsters.

“What is wrong with you? You betrayed your own blood. For what? Money? Blood? Power? And why the hell would you take a beating to hide your disloyalty if you’re so ok with it?”

With an exasperated and forced sigh, she met my eyes. “You wouldn’t understand. You haven’t lived with them for hundreds of years. You’re still new to them, a novelty. That wears off.” Her glossy lips pressed tight into a thin red line, and she stared out the window at the bright city lights. She hadn’t given me much, but it was enough. She was hurt and lashing out. Maybe I could work with that.

“My girl does what it takes to keep a secret.” Linden beamed a fangy grin at Sloane who ignored it. “She knows loyalty comes at a price.”

Linden loved to hear the sound of his own voice. He had no trouble carrying on a conversation consisting mostly of his stream of consciousness as we drove through the city. The first prickle of nervousness trickled through me when I noticed the area we had entered. It was littered with large commercial buildings and warehouses with very little human activity, where nobody would hear you scream.