September Moon (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #8)(40)

“But, I—” My protests died as he shook his head. The need for vengeance was all consuming, demanding to be answered. Yet I knew Willow was right.

“He will come for you eventually. There is no need to rush that moment. Everything happens in its own time. Trust me.”

I fell quiet, accepting his wisdom as sound despite the anger boiling over inside me. Willow knew what he was talking about. Demons were still new to me, and I didn’t think I’d ever truly understand them.

I focused on taking several slow, deep breaths. The fall air was cool and crisp. After a minute I felt better, calm and even refreshed.

“Ok,” I said with a nod. “I trust your judgment. I’m just at the end of my rope with this.”

“I get that. Really, I do.” Willow stepped away from the car. A mischievous smile graced his lips. “But since we can’t do anything here, why don’t we go for a drink? It looks like you could use one. Or five.”

“A drink? Are you kidding me?”

I got into the car, pausing to check my phone for messages. Nothing. Arys and Jenner were probably still at the Kiss getting drunk on blood, and other things. I couldn’t search anything on holy ground, apparently, so I was now back to square one.

“Let’s go to Woody’s and shoot some pool. You can let off some steam, then we’ll track down the others and come up with a new plan.”

I couldn’t come up with a better idea. And a drink sounded pretty damn good to me. “You win.”

Woody’s Pub was a little hole in the wall that gave the illusion of an abandoned building from the outside. Willow had taken me there the first night we met. It was strange to think that he’d known me before that night. A warmth spread through me as we walked inside. I was grateful to have a friend like him.

The small sports pub was relatively busy. Most of the patrons were middle aged and up. The scent of beer, chicken wings, and Old Spice hung on the air. The TVs mounted in the corners held everyone’s attention. Whether it was hockey, football, or whatever they watched, it meant nothing to me.

“Willow, hi,” the bartender greeted him. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Can I get you the usual?”

“The usual would be great. Double it.” Willow slapped some cash on the bar and led me to a free table near a pool table at the back.

I groaned, watching him gather pool balls in preparation. “Willow, I can’t drink tequila with you. That shit is toxic.”

“No more toxic than that whiskey you’re always hugging.” He tossed me a pool cue and gestured for me to go first.

“I beg to differ.”

The bartender brought over a tray of tequila shots with a saltshaker and a bowl of limes. I grimaced as Willow handed me a drink. Holding his own, he clinked our glasses together. Forgoing the salt, he tossed it back, unfazed.

I stared into the small drink, disgusted. If I never drank that shit again, it would be too soon. No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than I realized this very well could be the last time I’d ever get the chance to drink with Willow.

With that ugly thought haunting me, I drank back the shot with a noise of disgust, banged the glass on the table, and reached for a lime. Holding the slice of fruit in my teeth, I lined up my shot and slammed the cue ball. The balls broke apart, scattering across the table. I sunk two solids. Not bad.

We shot a few games of pool as we made our way through the tray of drinks. It didn’t take long for me to lose track of how many I’d had. The familiar numbness set in, reminding me why so many chose to get lost this way. Before long I would exchange it solely for blood. That should’ve bothered me, but the tipsy haze prevented a genuine reaction.

“That’s three games for me. None for you,” Willow bragged, tossing the chalk at me and laughing when it bounced off my head.

“Ow, you ass.” I rubbed the spot it had hit, laughing far more than was necessary. My drunken giggle was fueled by the need to laugh. I didn’t do it as much as I needed to these days. It’s a wonder what a good, hard belly laugh can do for the soul.

The fun ended when the door opened, and two vampires walked in. They didn’t hesitate or linger, heading straight for us instead.

I exchanged a look with Willow who tightened his grip on the pool cue. I did the same, knowing it was likely my only weapon. We were in a human bar. Tossing around psi balls would only lead to more trouble.

“At last, I get to meet the ill reputed Alexa O’Brien.” The tall, blond one leading the duo strode right up to me, throwing a punch that knocked me back into the pool table.

I tasted blood. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

Licking a smear from my bottom lip, I smashed the wooden pool cue into the side of his head. The Dragon Claw hung on my hip, but I didn’t want to kill them with witnesses.

“Let me guess, you’ve taken it upon yourself to do something about Arys’s mortal queen,” I said, swinging again. He caught it this time, and we both held tight, trying to overpower the other. “You *s need to get it through your heads that I am not the enemy.”

“Anyone with the power to rule two different breeds of monster is the enemy. Especially when I’m one of them.” He tried to jerk the cue from my hand, but my grip was solid.

Willow had the other vampire pressed against the wall, holding him with an arm crushing his throat. Fools. If they hadn’t known what he was, they were about to find out.