September Moon (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #8)(38)

I stuffed the phone into my pocket and spun on the barstool to face the crowd. Eyeing the human patrons like they were helpless gazelle grazing unawares, I scanned them each in turn with predatory intrigue.

The need to devour someone was strong. Before I could slip from the stool and melt into the throng of lively prey, a vision flashed behind my eyes. Blood, blue eyes, Jenner. Arys’s voice whispered through my mind, calling me to him.

The hunger was getting stronger every time it hit me. My conscious control was growing fragile, along with what remained of my mortal strength. Shya was right. The power was harming me. It was running rampant through me, consuming the last part of me that was remotely human.

It should have been a sad or terrifying realization. As I glided down the back hall with an undead grace that was not yet my own, I felt only eager anticipation. My dark vampire called me, and I responded.

Arys and Jenner were in Harley’s old room at the far end of the hall. The room had been given a makeover, but that didn’t stop me from hesitating outside the door. It was impossible to go into that room without remembering everything that had taken place inside.

What was I doing? I came back to myself long enough to question how I’d so quickly gone from the club to the back rooms. It was a blur.

I backed away from the door, unwilling to discover what was going on inside. I knew Arys well enough to know walking away was safer than opening the door. Somehow I found the strength to retreat.

The sound of the door opening stopped me in my tracks. With building apprehension, I turned to find Arys in the threshold. He beckoned to me with a finger and a wicked grin.

Another step back. If I could just keep moving.

“Um, any chance you’re almost done in there?” My words were hollow, lacking conviction. Even as I inched away, my lungs filled with the cloying human scents of blood, fear, and lust. It was as nauseating as it was enticing.

“Come inside.” Arys stared at me, perplexed, as if he couldn’t decide if I were prey or predator.

“I don’t want to. Not with Jenner.” Fear rose up to suffocate me, choking off my reply. Anxiety crushed me as I faced my future. It terrified me. “Try not to spend the whole night in there.”

Arys’s eyes were a deep, drowning black due to his dilated pupils. He was walking on clouds, and I was quaking, torn between bloodlust and the struggle for control. Without moving from his place in the doorway, he reached out to me with a metaphysical touch, draping me in the midnight velvet that was his thrall.

“Don’t,” I whispered, eyes wide as I fought the urge to go to him. He was luring me in, seducing me without a touch. It was mesmerizing and held the promise of pleasure and satisfaction.

Shame slapped me like an unseen hand. This was what Kale felt in my presence. I wanted to feel bad. I knew that I should. Instead, I felt empowered. And then guilty.

It took everything I had to break free from Arys’s thrall. It was very much like fighting against myself. When my feet began to move, I turned to rush back the way I’d come. And ran straight into Arys.

I hadn’t seen him move. He was just there in front of me, blocking my path. He reached to steady me, but I stepped out of his grasp. Slowly, Arys advanced on me, driving me back toward the room.

His gaze dropped to my neck where only the faintest pink mark remained from his bite. He was riding the high, seeking the thrill anywhere he could find it. It was a powerful feeling that knew nothing of rationale. It was all about the gratification of getting off on power and blood.

“Why are you fighting so hard?” Arys drew closer; his steps, slow and calculated. “This is a bad time to have a change of heart.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know. The smell of it is absolutely divine.”

“I’m not ready,” I all but shouted. There was a sudden ringing in my ears as white noise drowned out my gasps for calming breaths. “I’m not ready to be what you are.” Clapping a hand to my mouth, I stared at Arys in bewildered horror. I hadn’t meant for that to slip out.

He moved fast, closing the space I’d put between us. Pulling me close, he forced me to meet his gaze.

“It’s too late for that. It’s already inside you. Fighting it will only drive you mad.” He kissed me then, slipping his tongue into my mouth. The taste of blood was tangy, silencing my unspoken protest.

I almost caved. The temptation was nearly more than I could stand. Digging deep, I found the will to resist. My fear was stronger than the hunger. This time.

I shoved away from Arys, holding up a hand to ward him off when he reached for me again. A blue and gold psi ball hovered in my palm.

“I’m going to wait for Willow outside. Don’t kill anyone. That’s a demand not a request.” I turned my back on him, ready to slam him with the psi ball if he tried to stop me. He didn’t.

Arys watched me go in silence. This was going to come up later. I was sure of it.

Forcing me to do something I wasn’t ready for wasn’t his intent. I knew that. Hell, I’d done it before. More times than I’d like to admit. It was the clock counting down the minutes left in my mortal life that had put the fear in me. It was harsh, unnerving, and entirely unwelcome.

My stomach clenched and rolled. I returned to the club to find Willow seated at the bar. I shook my head and gestured to the door. I couldn’t stay inside a moment longer, or somebody would die.