Freak Show (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #7)(72)

I felt like a kid on Halloween listening to ghost stories. A strange chill crept through me as I processed his accounts. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard tales of vampires being linked to demons. That’s where the darkness came from. My body shook as the chill spread, freezing my very bones. I faced every night with a piece of that darkness living inside me. How would I ever be the same when it completely consumed me?

“Our bloodline is currently one of the most powerful in the western world,” Hurst continued when I failed to speak. “I’m sure you’ve seen evidence of that yourself.”

“I have,” I said softly.

“Which is why you must take care when turning a human. Like your wolf, some people cannot adjust to the power we command.” Hurst pushed the plate of cookies closer to me. He met my eyes evenly when he added, “Please give Arys a message for me. Tell him that he must not turn the young male witch.”

The blood drained from my face. My gaze fell to the dragon on my forearm. It was a perfect match to the one on Arys’s back. The one he had received after making a deal with Shya, a promise to turn Gabriel, a human skilled in the dark arts. At this rate, we were never going to get these damn demon marks removed. We would never be able or willing to give Shya what he expected of us. That problem would have to wait until I was back home after a weeklong snooze in my own bed.

“I’ll tell him,” I promised. “Thank you, again, for sharing with me. I’m not entirely sure what to do with it all, but I’ll figure it out.”

“That you will.” Hurst rose and called forward his human assistant. “Take Alexa back to her kin, please.”

I stood up, my legs wobbly like jelly. The symbol on the old book pulsed, and again I resisted the urge to touch it. It scared me even as it enticed.

Hurst drew me into a surprising hug. His embrace was gentle, comforting. He stroked a hand through my hair and patted my back. “Stay strong, young Hound.” He pulled back and gazed down at me. I fell into his hazel eyes, drawn into the abyss of power. He spoke slowly, carefully. “You will not remember this location. You will recall only this room and our discussion. Go now and take care.”

The next thing I knew, I was standing outside The Wicked Kiss alone and disoriented.

Chapter Seventeen

Back at Caesars Palace after a long and fabulous day in bed, I groaned and whined in protest to Arys’s insistence that we go out.

“Out? Are you kidding me? All we’ve been is out. I want to go home.”

The minibar muffled Jez’s snicker and hid her head from sight while she perused the selection. The twenty-second rule had been abandoned. Screw it.

“But now we get to act like tourists, Lex,” she said, pulling out two bottles of imported beer. “Like we should have been from the start.”

“Might as well kill time before our flight.” Arys tried to appeal to my rational side. He didn’t know that I had no inclination left to be rational. This trip had drained me of all sense and reasonability. “Besides, I want you to see Vegas. I mean really see The Strip the way you’re meant to, without all the vampire politics.”

I caught the bottle that Jez slid to me across the table. “I don’t know, Arys. Wouldn’t you rather stay here and just enjoy the view?” I pointed to the Bellagio fountain across the street. The water was alight, dancing to some song we could not hear within our room.

“I’d rather get down there for a street view. Let’s make the most of our last few hours here.”

At my request, and with no argument from the others, Arys had rebooked our flight for tonight. Midnight. I was perfectly content to stay at Caesars and be pampered, enjoying the luxury the hotel offered. The city was a daunting place, a haven for vampires. It was also now ours. Or so Arys claimed.

I groaned again, being as stubborn as I could without driving myself crazy. Since my visit with Hurst, I was especially eager to get home. I needed some time alone with my thoughts. There was no place on earth better for that than running through the forest as wolf.

“Do we have to?” I whined.

“Yes,” said both Jez and Arys simultaneously.

I gave a scoff of irritation and pushed to my feet. Disappearing from the living room, I went to the bedroom and packed my things. The minute we were set to depart for the airport, I’d be ready. I’d even already called Willow and had him pop in to grab my dagger. Airport security wouldn’t have nice things to say about me if they found that in my luggage.

It was a casual dress kind of night, jeans and a black tank top with my ass-kicking boots. I wasn’t betting on getting out of Sin City without further trouble. The odds just weren’t in my favor.

The door opened, and Arys entered. He had that look in his eyes, the one that said he knew exactly what I was thinking. “You’re worrying about what Hurst said, aren’t you?” He sat on the bed beside me and gave my hair a playful tug.

“Yes,” I said truthfully. “Every damn word.”

“Don’t. It’s not worth it.”

“How can you say that?” I asked, aghast at his flippancy. “As far as our deals with Shya go, we are f**ked. Totally, completely, horrifically f**ked.”

Arys’s low velvet smooth laugh stroked me in places unseen. Damn him and his impossible sensuality. “We are no such thing. Everything will work itself out. It always does. Haven’t you caught on to that by now?”