The Wicked Kiss (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #2)(27)

After a long, suspenseful moment that had me shaking in my tracks, she backed away toward the thick trees behind her. When she was sure that I wouldn’t give chase, she turned and fled into shadow.

I didn’t hang around to see if she’d return. She wouldn’t, not tonight anyway.

Instead, I beat it home to take a soak in a hot bath while I nursed a combination of guilt and confusion.

I wasn’t sure where the guilt came from. Maybe because while I was relaxing in bubbles up to my chin, Zoey was out there trapped in wolf form indefinitely. The confusion was partly due to Raoul’s death having only occurred a few months ago. I just wasn’t entirely over losing the man I’d looked up to, nor could I accept his betrayal from beyond the grave. That would likely never change. How could it? He had waited until he was dead to reveal to me through a letter that he had been the werewolf that killed my family and turned me. That kind of pain didn’t fade overnight.

Since I was alone, I dragged my fuzzy comforter out to the futon in the living room.

After making some African red tea and grabbing a bag of chocolate covered pretzels, I was ready to get comfy with a good movie.

I munched on pretzels as I scrolled through the TV channels with the remote. There was a late night showing of one of the old Halloween movies. With Halloween being just weeks away, I also had three or four other horror flicks to choose from. After eliminating them based on cheesiness and gore level, I stuck with Michael Myers and his shrieking teenage victims.

It wasn’t long until my eyelids began to droop. The classic slasher theme played in the background as I drifted between sleep and wakefulness. It accompanied me as I sunk deeper, right into a dream I hadn’t had in months.

I was back in my family home, surrounded by the bodies of my dead family. Raoul stood before me as wolf, but this time I knew it was him. The first thing I noticed was that I wasn’t my teenage self in this dream like in previous ones, and I was fully aware that this was indeed only a dream. I soon came to realize that though it was a dream, it was not at all the same one I’d assumed it was.

Unlike dreams of the past, Raoul wasn’t snarling or preparing to attack. He simply stared into me with calm, coal-dark eyes. I was overcome with the instant urge to tell him what a jackass he was for trying to communicate with me now, after my run in with Zoe.

It was always about her.

But, try as I might to say all the things that came to mind, I was unable to give voice to them. I could only look into those dark eyes and feel a mixture of sadness and wonder.

Just when I felt that something was going to transpire, another sensation roused me.

When my conscious mind became aware that somebody was in the house, I was wide-awake, on full alert.

My instinct had me swinging before I’d identified the intruder. All at once, I realized it was Arys, but he had already deflected each of my blows, catching my wrists tightly in his grasp.

“Alexa,” he whispered loudly. “It’s me. But, a word of warning. Don’t fall asleep with the front door unlocked.”

I stopped struggling against him and sat up on the futon. Arys leaned down over me; his face, more battered and bruised than it had been previously. He released my arms and stepped back as I pushed my disheveled hair from my face.

“What happened to you? That’s not from Shaz.” I reached out to brush a finger across his bruised eyelid but he caught my hand in his, kissing it softly.

“No. I saw Harley tonight. At The Wicked Kiss.” He stared at me with an intensity I felt in my toes.

Arys looked worried, almost afraid. He wasn’t the fearful type in any way. He pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my hair and inhaling my scent. I tried to pull away, pushing on his chest so he had to look at me.

“Tell me what happened.”

He studied me, his jaw clenching hard. “We had a little confrontation. It didn’t go so well.”

“You don’t say.” I cocked my head to the side, taking in his battered appearance.

“Start talking, vampire.”

He reached out for my hand, and I surrendered it but didn’t abandon my stiff position. That had never deterred this vampire though, and it certainly didn’t now. Arys advanced on me, tipping my head up with a hand under my chin, kissing me with a fervor that I felt in my loins.

“That’s not going to get you out of trouble, mister. Start talking. I want to know about Harley.” I managed to pull away though I would have loved to let him continue as if nothing else mattered.

He tensed noticeably, looking away from me to stare at the gruesome horror flick that played quietly. His averted gaze told me plenty. I had to bite my tongue so that I didn’t ramble on in an attempt to pry the information out of him.

When his piercing, blue gaze swung back to me, there was an angry fire burning in their depths. He ran his hand through his always bedroom-messy hair, a sign that he didn’t want to tell me. I chewed my bottom lip nervously. If he didn’t start talking, I was going to burst.

“He’s bad news, Alexa. He wants to see what could possibly be so tasty that even I can’t get my fill.” Arys eyed me closely as he spoke. I felt his gaze like a weight. “He wants to sample you for himself. His exact words were a little more crude, which resulted in the punch in his face that started our little brawl.”

I swallowed hard around the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. Ok, now I was a little nervous.