The Wicked Kiss (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #2)(72)

Abandoning any semblance of a smile, Harley allowed for a dramatic pause before he said, “You.”

I felt faint, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t breathe. I risked a glance behind me, hoping the entrance to the alley was closer than I remembered it being. He cleared the distance separating us before I could take a step.

I expected a lot of things from him, but a total cheap shot wasn’t one of them. He thrust a rag in my face that reeked of chloroform, and I gagged, trying not to inhale.

Eventually the need to breathe won out, and I had no choice but to draw the harsh fumes into my lungs.

Despite how hard I struggled, I couldn’t break free of him. It wasn’t long before the darkness closed in on me.

* * * *

My hands were tied. I was aware of that before my eyes even flickered open. I also knew where I was. The strange, eerie energy of The Wicked Kiss stabbed at me like needles, and I resisted the urge to groan. I didn’t want to open my eyes, not when I could feel my captor’s heavy gaze on me like a weight. Part of me was hoping that this was all a bad dream and I would open my eyes and be in my bed at home. Fat chance.

There was no point putting off certain death. It was inevitable, right? I finally looked up at Harley, acceptance settling in far too soon. I wasn’t usually one to give in without a fight, but my stomach hurt, and my head pounded from the chloroform.

“If you’re going to kill me, would you at least make it quick?”

He chuckled, drawing my attention to his dark eyes. He looked more amused than anything else. I was confused. What did this crazy ass vampire want with me?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed. “I’d be a fool to kill such a rare creature as yourself. That would be much like killing a unicorn.”

“Unicorns don’t exist.” I stated, daring to look at my surroundings.

“Exactly.” He let that word hang in the air between us while I absorbed the reality of the situation.

The room we were in was similar to the one where I’d found Kale with its hotel room set up. This one however was twice the size and had a different décor. The carpet was a soft grey; the walls, warm tones of tan accents. Unlike Kale’s room, this one had a full-length sofa and matching easy chair. Wall sconces held candles that flickered away brightly as they were the only source of lighting other than the fire that blazed in a fancy iron fireplace near the sofa and TV.

I was propped against the couch but sitting on the floor. When I glanced down at myself, I noticed that it almost looked as if he had tried to arrange my cape so my underwear wasn’t visible due to my position and short skirt. That was mind-boggling.

Was it possible that Harley had a sense of respect after all?

“So what do you want? It must be good if you were willing to take me by force.” I glared hard, uncertain but refusing to let him cow me. Now that I was pretty sure I wasn’t facing immediate death, I was ready to fight.

Harley was sitting at the small two-seat table near the mini bar and the only door in the room. How convenient.

“Honestly, can you blame me for wanting to get a better, more personal look at you?”

“I’m not a f**king museum exhibit.” I spat the words, and he merely smiled. It was beyond aggravating.

“Certainly not.” He stood and approached me, a pocketknife held in one hand. “It’s up to you if I cut the ropes on your wrists or not. I’m not in the mood to play games.

Yet.”

I sighed. What choice did I have other than to play along? “Fine. I’ll behave myself.

What can I really do anyway?”

“Indeed.”

His approach was slow as if he was trying not to spook a skittish animal. He went down on one knee, knife held ready. I struggled to remain still when I felt the cool steel blade slide between my wrists and the rope that held me.

His close proximity gave me the opportunity to study him. If I had to guess, I’d say he had been mid-forties when changed from human to vampire. He had reached that golden age for men when they start to look better with the onset of years. The lines around his eyes were visible but faint. The hard set to his jaw spoke of more experience in his mortal years than I had had so far in mine. He was astonishingly handsome. But, there was a deep darkness in him. I could feel it like a suffocating blanket, like a spider web I could not shrug off.

When my wrists were free, I sat very still on the floor, waiting for him to move away. Instead, he surprised me by holding a hand out as if to help me to my feet. I stared at his outstretched hand as if it would bite. The look he gave me indicated that I really could trust him not to trick me with something as trivial as a hand up.

Regardless, I chose to ignore his hand and struggled to my feet on my own. I tugged my skirt down and flushed, suddenly wary that he would be aware of my scent. If I thought about it, I could easily smell both Shaz and Arys all over me.

“Here.” Harley strode to the mini bar fridge, pulling a bottled water from inside.

“Don’t tell me you don’t need this.”

The bottle was sealed. I was sure it was safe so I accepted it gratefully. My throat was dry, and after the wine I’d drank, I really needed some water. He waited patiently while I soothed my thirst, but I felt the eagerness emanating from him.

It was hard to shake the images I had of him from Arys’ memories. Bloody images of fun-filled torture sessions, his attack on Arys that brought him to the brink of death and back again, all of it swam behind my eyes. I stared at him unflinching, preparing for anything.