Sunset to Sunrise (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #7.5)(24)

“We have to deal with Sinclair first. I didn’t anticipate this kind of setback either. So get off my case and figure something out.” Phillip ended the call with a scowl that turned to shock at my arrival.

I slid into the booth beside him, trapping him against the wall. He slumped, recognizing this moment for what it was. Vengeance.

“Who were you talking to, Phillip? I’m going to kill you anyway so you might as well tell me. Was it Rebecca?” Without laying a hand on him, I wrapped his energy in mine, bending it to my will.

He grunted, a pained sound that was accompanied by the bulging of his eyes. “Leave Rebecca out of this. She was following my lead. She’s no threat to Alexa without me.”

“Those are mighty proud words for a low level scum like you.” I turned up the heat, slapping Phillip with another hit of power. His anguished howl brought me grim satisfaction. “I’m sure I don’t need to go over this again. I have to make sure your little rebellion doesn’t survive another night. That means taking you out, bud.”

Phillip’s wide eyes rolled my way. Anger flashed in their depths. “Do what you gotta do then and be done with it.”

Using my power to pin him against the wall, I withdrew the stake from my jacket. “I’m sorry it has to go down this way. I have to make it clear to the vampires in this city that nobody f*cks with Alexa.”

“So you’re happy to settle for being her slave then,” he nodded as if he knew it all. “Better you than me.”

I plunged the stake into his chest, driving it home, deep into his heart. Phillip’s mouth gaped open, and he emitted a strangled sound before bursting into a cloud of dust.

“Yeah,” I mumbled to the sandy pile on the seat beside me. “Better me than you.”

Picking up his phone from the tabletop, I scrolled through to find the last number he had called. As I’d suspected, it was Rebecca.

I listened to it ring as I waited for her to answer. It was best to do it this way. If we had another face-to-face encounter, I’d likely kill her.

“What the f*ck do you want now?” She answered with a snarl. “It’s only been five minutes since your last bitch session.”

I chuckled, enjoying the moment of hesitance on the line when she realized it wasn’t Phillip on the phone.

“Settle down, Rebecca,” I said. “Phillip can’t hassle you anymore.”

“You killed him? That was fast.” There was a note of disbelief in her voice. “Look, Kale, I swear I have no ill intent toward anyone. It was all Phillip. He was so sure Arys and Alexa would make us all slaves. I never believed it. I’m no danger to them. I promise.”

I remained silent for a moment, long enough to stir her panic. Only after she shouted my name did I speak again. “You won’t get another chance if I find out otherwise,” I declared. “How many others are there?”

“I’m not sure. You killed most of them. A few maybe.”

“Spread the word that Phillip is dead, and I’m acting as Alexa’s second. Nobody gets to her without having to go through me as well.”

“Got it. No problem. Whatever you say.” Rebecca was much too concerned with pleasing me. I knew I’d gotten quite a reputation for being less than sane these days, but had it really gotten so bad that even other vampires were wary?

I hung up, having nothing more to say. I slipped Phillip’s phone into my pocket with the intent to destroy it later. No sense leaving it for a human to find. There could be any number of things on it that should not be seen by human eyes.

Scanning the sports bar, I found myself hungry for escape. I returned to The Wicked Kiss but did not go inside. Fetching my car, I instead went downtown, to the side streets nobody dared to visit unless they were seeking out the unsavory. It was where Alexa went when seeking a kill that would ease her guilt. I however had no guilt. So why was I there?

Some kills were careful, precise and expertly executed. Others were impulsive and random, a savage attack that left the victim unidentifiable. The latter sounded awfully good right now.

A pimp stood beneath the streetlight outside a filthy, rundown bar. In one hand, he held a cigar, in the other, the arm of a young woman trembling in fear. She was already so scared. So tempting.

As I walked down the street toward them, I clung to the shadows. I didn’t want to be seen yet. Conscious thought dissipated. Hunger guided my steps. The scent of fear was tantalizing, seducing me with the promise of blood and death.

The girl was the one I wanted. She smelled f*cking fabulous whereas the man at her side reeked of cheap cologne and even cheaper cigars. It wasn’t her I grabbed though.

Appearing from the darkness, one of many monsters walking these streets, I grabbed the pimp around the throat and jerked him close. Staring into his bloodshot eyes, I saw my reflection. Fangs bared, expression of crazed delight, I looked very much like the monster from tales of old.

There was no romanticism, no beauty to what I was or what I was about to do. My victim never justified it, not for a second. It was pure evil.

It didn’t matter if there were witnesses. Nobody would speak a word of what they saw. That was how it worked in these parts. Those who kept their mouths shut stayed alive longer than those who talked.

I bit into the pimp with such viciousness his blood spattered my face. His cigar fell to the ground, forgotten and drenched in gore. My attack was brutal, driven by a need for release that was only temporarily satisfied.