Crazy Bitch Read online

  “I’m not leaving until I’ve done what I came to do,” Brook said, standing his ground.

  Having a showdown with the demon in front of Agent Winston was not ideal. So I turned to her with a forced, apologetic smile. She was already nodding.

  “Here.” She passed me her card and shot another glance at Brook. Her gaze lingered on his solid black eyes. “Call me if you can think of anything that may be helpful. Have a good night.”

  I watched her cross the lot to a grey BMW. There was no sign of anyone else. It appeared she really had come alone. Agent Winston was ballsy. My first impression of her had been cut short, but so far I kind of liked her. I wasn’t going to be stupid enough to trust her though; that had been my big mistake with Briggs.

  After she drove away, I turned a vicious glare on Brook. My fingertips crackled with blue and gold. I was ready to let him have it. “You’re not welcome here. Step foot on this property again, and I’ll beat your ass back to the other side.”

  Brook pursed his lips, like he couldn’t decide if he should antagonize me or back off. A red envelope appeared in his hand, and he extended it to me. “I was sent to give you this. I have no interest in engaging with you any further than I must.”

  “You were sent? I thought you were on Shya’s shit list after your little stunt of teaming up with the vampires.”

  Because I was too curious for my own good, I swiped the envelope from him. Careful not to take my eye off him, I ripped the envelope open and pulled out an invitation. The paper was gold and crisp with a handwritten gothic font:

  You are cordially invited to attend a Halloween party like no other.

  Accept and receive a rare opportunity. Find your way out of my house of horrors by dawn, and I will owe you a favor. Any favor. As a bonus, I’ll cancel all debts owed to me whether past, present, or future. Fail and you will owe me one favor that I shall call in at any time.

  Tricks will be played. And treats will be had. The fun starts at midnight.

  “Oh, I am,” Brook said, watching for my reaction. “Which is why I received one too. It seems that the only people Shya is inviting to this thing are those who’ve somehow pissed him off.” He thrust another envelope toward me. “This one’s for the leopard.”

  “Is this a friggin’ joke?” My sharp bark of laughter cut through the night. Shya’s conceit knew no bounds. “Are you going to this freak show?”

  Brook ducked his head and nodded. “I am. Like you said, I’m on his shit list. If this means a chance to get him off my back, I’d be a fool not to.”

  Since he’d done what he came to do, and we had nothing further to say to one another, Brook disappeared without a sound. I stared at the invitation, expecting it to smolder and burn or maybe explode in a shower of sparks. It didn’t. The power in the invitation was only in the words, the subtle threat in between the lines.

  Shya was not expecting recipients to refuse. He was too arrogant to accept that was possible. The demon’s party of pain and horror was less than a week away. Not much notice, but I was sure he’d done that on purpose.

  “Everything ok?” Justin’s low timbre startled me. He was so inconspicuous, standing off to the side near the building, watching my back in strong silence.

  Shya was up to something. When wasn’t he? There’d been a time when my initial reaction to such a request would have been a middle-finger refusal. Things had changed. I’d changed. Now I considered if perhaps this scenario could provide Falon and I with the opportunity we needed.

  A demon could be bound to an object, trapped within it, if one had the right material and know how. We had all we needed except just one thing: one of Shya’s feathers. It might be a long shot, but it might also be a chance to pull this off. Was I really considering this?

  “Yeah,” I said with a nod. “It will be.”

  Chapter Two

  “That crazy-ass demon has lost his motherfucking mind.” Jez gaped at the invitation in disbelief. Despite her declaration, intrigue shone in her eyes. “We’re totally going, aren’t we?” The alcohol wasn’t driving Jez’s decision. It was just in her fun-loving nature to be drawn to something so obviously demented.

  “I’m torn. No doubt it’ll be dangerous, but I can’t help but feel it may be worth the risk.” I glanced at Willow who looked uncomfortable in the booth seat. He preferred to sit at the bar. “What do you think?”

  Willow leaned back against the booth and stared at the invitation on the table in front of him. That one was his. He was also on Shya’s shit list, apparently. In a black t-shirt and jeans, he blended in, appearing human, except for the red eyes that betrayed him as demon to anyone who knew better.

  “I think Shya’s up to something,” Willow said, sipping from a glass of tequila on the rocks. “He’s always up to something, and he doesn’t handle defeat well. That being said, I want to go.”

  “Really?” I raised a brow and gave him an appraising once-over. “For some reason I didn’t expect you to.”

  Willow vibed with a thick, murky energy. Pure demon. I hated the way it felt, like an oil spill that covered me. A slippery essence that was hard to slough off and impossible to fully shield against. But I loved Willow, so I gritted my teeth and bore it.

  “Shya and I are overdue for a confrontation. He’s given me an open invitation.” A strange smile twisted Willow’s lips into something almost macabre. “I might even be looking forward to it.”

  We all knew Willow had enough power to make Shya his bitch. However, he’d recently indicated his reluctance to do just that, citing that vengeance would only change him rather than Shya. I wondered if perhaps he was reconsidering that.

  “So it’s settled. We’re going.” Jez held up her glass in a cheers and smacked it against Willow’s without waiting for his participation.

  I regarded them both with envy. My tastes no longer included booze. Physically, I had no interest in it. My interest was all mental. That’s where the monsters inside me lived. In my head. I couldn’t escape them with liquor anymore. My methods of escape had evolved. Trapped in a time of darkness, lost in shadows, I was fighting to find my way out the other side. In the meantime, I was existing night to night, hoping I didn’t self-destruct along the way.

  I felt restless. Having dealt with Agent Winston and considered Shya’s invite, I was ready to retreat from reality again. A short reprieve from the forced lucidity. It took so much strength to maintain my precarious hold on sanity.

  “Alexa?” Willow nudged my elbow with his glass.

  I realized he’d said something I hadn’t heard while lost inside myself. Running a hand through my hair, I shook my head. “Sorry, what?”

  “Did Arys get one of these?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. We haven’t spoken yet tonight.” Saying it made me feel guilty. Arys and I were so damn good together, so right. And yet, we were also in such total conflict, a collision of wills and intents that made our good thing damn near impossible. Being apart made us both crazy but being together made us torrential. I wasn’t sure which was worse.

  Willow frowned. Like Jez, he thought I needed to throw myself back into my union with Arys. I wished it were as easy as they thought it was.

  “Don’t give in to it,” he said, pausing to sip from his drink. “I can see it in your eyes. The flightiness. You cannot exist without him. Not anymore. Stop trying to.”

  I made a face and tapped my fingers against the tabletop. The restlessness grew. “It’s not like that. Really. Things are just…hard. Really fucking hard.”

  Willow patted my hand and nodded. “I know.”

  He didn’t though. None of them did. Everyone claimed to understand, and yet they continued to pressure me to get back to some kind of normal while conveniently forgetting that I’d never known any such thing. It was a word that had never fit me or Arys, and it never would.

  Because I knew Willow meant well, I didn’t bite his head off. He knew what it was like to have the darkness always there to taunt, tempt, an
d torture. He didn’t want me to suffer, so he encouraged me to find my place with Arys, overlooking the fact that it was our twin-flame bond that had led us both to this place of hardship and madness in the first place.

  “Maybe you guys just need to bang and get it out of your system,” Jez offered. “You used to be attached at the groin. When was the last time Arys got a taste of you?”

  My face grew hot. The glower I turned on her went unobserved. “Not cool, Jezzy. Not friggin’ cool at all. Is that your solution to everything? Sex?”

  She stared past me to the hot waitress who hurried by with a tray of drinks. “Well, yeah. It’s amazing what a good fuck can do to clear the head.” Jez bumped her elbow against Willow’s. “Come on, back me up here, buddy.”

  With a grimace, Willow drank back the rest of the tequila in his glass. “I can’t say I relate. I’ve only had one lover, and I’m not all that interested in changing that.”

  This wasn’t news to me, but Jez stared at him, aghast, like she couldn’t wrap her mind around such a concept as one lover. She laughed, a high sound that turned into a low, throaty chuckle.

  “Holy shit, you’re one of those fucking for love types, huh?” she asked, wide-eyed and much louder than necessary thanks to the alcohol. “And here I thought that was a myth. Like a damn unicorn.”

  “Hey,” I said, offended. “I’m one of those fucking for love types too. Some people still prefer to share their intimacy with someone they love.”

  “Right,” Jez said with a nod, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Until you have a good hate fuck that makes you forget who you are for ten minutes.”

  She didn’t mean any harm. It was just Jez, blunt and a bit on the crude side. Her words stung though, because she wasn’t wrong. I was no longer the person I was before. I’d done things I never thought I’d do. Deals with demons. Mass murder. Falon.

  Jez must have seen something on my face because she rushed on, wringing her hands. “We all do things in times of distress that in no way reflect who we really are inside. Except for Willow because he’s all virtuous and shit.”

  “It’s cool, Jez.” I held up a hand to stop her. “Just quit before you fall into that hole you’ve dug yourself.”

  “Yes,” Willow agreed. “Please stop. I don’t want to even think about that. It makes me feel things I don’t want to feel.” To accompany this statement his fist clenched around his empty glass.

  I pried it out of his grasp before it broke.

  Watching Falon get his ass kicked should have been enjoyable, but it had scared me. Witnessing such vehemence and hatred in Willow had driven home the fact that he too had changed. Evil reigned in him now.

  “Now that I’ve made this weird, I’m going to use the ladies’ room and get that waitress’s phone number.” Jez slipped out of the booth, looking chagrined. Then she weaved an erratic path through the crowd toward the washrooms.

  “Subject change,” I announced, ready to move on. “Can I ask you something? It’s about Jez.”

  “Of course.” Relief crossed Willow’s face at the change in topic. “Is this about her father?”

  “It is. I need to know if she’s in any danger of ending up like us. Jez doesn’t deserve to be dark, but there’s something inside her that is. Tell me she’s going to be ok.” It wasn’t the kind of thing one could demand, but I was willing to try.

  I recounted my tale of the night I’d healed Jez and discovered the piece of her father lying hidden inside her along with her recent admission that she’d begun to dream of seeing herself with black eyes. The whole thing left me feeling cold.

  Willow appeared to consider this. He stared in the direction of the bar with this strange intensity. Moments later one of the waitresses passed by, depositing a tequila bottle on the table as she went, not so much as looking at Willow.

  Then he spoke like nothing had happened. “Most nephilim start to show signs of their angelic side in adulthood. Then they choose, light or dark. Serve one, fight the other. Jez has never been human. I’ve honestly never heard of such a thing. It’s possible that it may be different for her.”

  I gawked at him, shocked. “Willow, what the fuck was that? Did you just trance my waitress into bringing you more booze? Does she even know she did that?”

  “Being a shifter may have something to do with it. It could be repressing the gifts she inherited from her father or even causing the darkness itself. The shifter curse does come from demons, though there are cases in which it is a gift, like yours.” Willow sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and stared thoughtfully at the tequila bottle.

  “Willow! What the fuck? Would you answer me?”

  He seemed to shrink in upon himself, like he’d just been caught doing something naughty. “It just happens sometimes. I don’t always know I’m doing it. I want something; I make it happen. The joys of being a fucking demon.”

  Son of a bitch. There wasn’t a damn thing I could say to that. I was reminded that, as much shit as I was going through, Willow had it worse.

  “So then, according to the rules, Jez should be able to choose,” I said, moving on because I had nothing to offer in regards to Willow’s new abilities.

  “She still has free will.” He nodded and tipped the liquor bottle up to his lips. Then he slammed it down on the table. “We all do. As we all have a dark side that fights to enslave that free will. Have you considered asking Gabriel to touch her? Maybe he’ll see something.”

  It wasn’t a bad idea. Gabriel wasn’t a fan of his ability to see precognitive visions of those he touched. I wasn’t a fan of it either. Not only had he seen me as a vampire before I’d turned, he’d also seen a vision of Arys biting my sister, Juliet. That one had not yet come to pass, though according to Gabriel, the things he saw almost always happened.

  “I suppose that’s an option.”

  “She’ll be ok. She’s got you.” Willow patted my hand and offered me a comforting smile. As soon as it had come, it faded, and a glare took its place. The thick, toxic energy surrounding him began to pulse and grow. “I can’t believe this.”

  Confused, I glanced around, trying to find the source of his sudden anger. Nothing struck me as amiss… until Falon walked in the front entry. It wasn’t like him to walk through the door instead of appearing unannounced. He must have known Willow was here.

  Willow and I rose at the same time. I grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t,” I said, firm but still asking, not demanding. “Please, Willow.”

  A scowl turned his sweet face into something sinister. “He shouldn’t be here.”

  I got it, I did. Willow cared so deeply that, in his new state, it took him to a bad place of violence and vengeance. But that wasn’t his call to make. “Well, that’s up to me. Falon and I are working on something, a way to get rid of Shya for a while. I don’t need you taking out your frustrations on him every time he comes around. But don’t think I didn’t appreciate that first time.” I shook his arm so he would face me again since his gaze had gone to Falon, who approached at a leisurely pace.

  Willow’s gold-flecked red eyes flashed with revulsion, and something else, something I’d never seen in him before. Judgment.

  “You’re an idiot if you trust him, Alexa. And if you let him touch you again, you’re asking for whatever shit he pulls on you.” Jerking away from me, Willow squeezed both hands into tight fists. I stared at him, horrorstruck and hurt, trying to remain understanding. His expression softened, and he said, “I’m sorry. You know I don’t mean that.”

  Then he hugged me, so fast I didn’t have time to hug him back, and he was gone. My emotions were much stronger since the turn, and Willow’s sudden cruelty had wounded me. I did know he didn’t mean it, but the demon in him had wanted to hurt me, and it had succeeded.

  Forcing the emotion off my face, I turned to find Falon sauntering up with an invitation in hand. So that was why he was here.

  “I guess Willow decided he didn’t want to stay and catch up. Tha
t’s ok. My face doesn’t really need a pounding today.” Falon held up the invitation and waved it in front of me. “Did you get one of these?”

  To answer his question I pulled my invite out of my bag, which was sitting on the booth seat. I slapped it down on the table. “Any idea what it’s all about?”

  “Why so suspicious? Do you think I’m part of this? Don’t be stupid. Shya cast me out of his inner circle. Why else would I get one?” Without waiting for an invite to sit, Falon plopped down and crossed his arms.

  I sat back down, across from Falon, and pinned him with a studious stare. “Maybe you’re still kissing Shya’s ass and leading me right into a trap. It’s not as if you’ve proven yourself to be trustworthy. In fact, I think you’ve fucked over everyone you’ve ever partnered with.”

  Falon considered this and nodded. “True, but I’m thinking your hostility has more to do with whatever Willow said on his way out than my disloyalty. What’s the matter, Alexa? Guilt-tripped by your guardian?”

  With a frustrated sigh, I shoved Willow’s abandoned tequila bottle aside. “Screw you, Falon.”

  The jerk-off hand motion he made in response was followed by a wicked chuckle. “Hurting for a fix already? That insatiable hunger for power you have is going to get you in trouble. You might do something you regret. Or someone.”

  I groaned and asked myself why I had agreed to work with the arrogant fallen angel on anything. Then I thought of the hell of having Shya always after me, wanting one thing or another, and the mistake I made in giving him the dreamwalker I’d owed him. Oh yeah, that’s why.

  “Been there, done that,” I quipped, glancing around for Jez. After searching the crowd for her golden ponytail, I spied her on the other side of the room, chatting with the hot waitress.

  “Would you like to do it again?” Falon knew how to get my attention. He sat there smirking, delight shining in his silver eyes.

  Refusing to give him the reaction he sought, I regarded him with thinly veiled disdain. “You give yourself way too much credit. Now, tell me what I should expect from Shya’s little get together. What’s he up to?”