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  We were so not fine and Willow knew that. Still he nodded, not calling me on my bullshit. “This is probably a shitty time to tell you that Salem is MIA.”

  The shitstorm just kept brewing tonight, didn’t it? Absently I rubbed at the raw spot left on my back from the rough, wooden siding of the pavilion. “Of course he is. Because why wouldn’t that happen now of all times? Do you think Lilah did something to him?”

  Willow glanced up and down the hallway. Nobody cloistered away within these walls gave a shit about our conversation. Angels and demons were an especially secretive bunch though. And no matter what form Willow wore, to me he’d always be an angel.

  “It’s the most likely possibility. I can pretty much guarantee it has something to do with your visit there.” His green eyes sparkled with tiny gold flecks. They caught me each time I looked at him, because I’d thought they would be red for all eternity. I continued to marvel at the wonder that was Willow.

  “I knew I screwed things up the moment I got back.” Cursing, I shoved away from the wall and paced the hallway. “I shouldn’t have mentioned Shya.”

  Willow stepped back as I paced by him. Aware of the sensitive nature of our bond, I tried to clamp down on my power so it didn’t flow freely around me. Like Arys, I tended to seep a little all the time. For people like Willow, who were bound to me on a deeper level, that could get painful.

  In the weeks since he’d turned, Willow and I had established a routine: every few nights I gave him a little blood and he was good. For another few nights. We didn’t go long enough to find out what would happen. I knew. I saw it with Jenner and Kale. But truthfully, I didn’t want Willow to want me like that. He did. He couldn’t help it. But we kept the desire controlled. It had to stay that way.

  “It doesn’t matter now. We’ll have to go on without him. It can’t wait much longer.” Willow studied my face, and something he saw made him break his self-imposed distance requirement. He stopped me mid-pace, stepping in front of me. Pulling me into a hug, he smoothed back my hair with such gentle care. He still had a guardian’s touch. “Let’s go sit down and talk about it. We’ll figure this out.”

  Because I knew it wouldn’t last nearly long enough, I soaked up all I could in that hug. Within seconds he stiffened and pulled away, unable to touch me too long without wanting to ravish my body and take my blood.

  “Let’s go sit out there.” I nodded toward the heart of the club, where barely muffled electric guitars screamed. “It’s too quiet back here. I don’t want to hear myself think right now.”

  With a sympathetic wince and nod, Willow followed me into the main room. Stepping from the back hall and its high-strung vibe rife with blood, sex, and excitement into the drunken shenanigans of the main room was like striding between two worlds. Both party zones but different kinds of party.

  Right now, I’d pass on the one with humans and vampires meeting in a place where everyone could get what they wanted without leaving bodies in the streets. I needed the party with a dance floor and people cheering every time the band’s singer called to them. The one with Falon swigging tequila by the bar.

  Wait, Falon?

  The silver-haired angel stood at the bar shooting the shit with Josh the bartender. In one hand he held a bottle of the best tequila we had.

  A tall, leggy blonde vampire sidled up to him, flirtatious smile in place. They didn’t always know what he was, especially the newer vamps. Falon could keep his power under wraps, so it went undetected by most unless he used it. They knew he wasn’t human though, and he was stupidly good looking. Seemed to be an angel thing. I had yet to meet an ugly one.

  Falon turned to engage her with a raised brow. He leaned in to listen to whatever come on she had prepared. I couldn’t tear my gaze away as I led Willow to my favorite table near the door.

  Whatever she said to Falon made him shake his head and laugh. His lips moved as he responded. What the hell was this cold, hard dagger-like stabbing in my chest? Jealousy? Fuck me.

  They both glanced in my direction.

  She nodded and held up a hand in a ‘say no more’ gesture. She slipped away as fast as she’d come.

  He turned her down. Because of me? Or because she wasn’t his type?

  With a parting remark to Josh, Falon circled around the bar to meet us at the table as we reached it. I tossed my bag into the booth and plopped down beside it. Willow sat across from me. He scowled at the fallen angel who carefully ignored him.

  “Shove over, wolf.” Falon didn’t wait for me to move. He looked me over with eyes as silver as his hair. “You’re in one piece. That’s reassuring. Wasn’t sure what I’d find after the little storm you two started in the park.”

  I winced and settled in against the butt-hugging booth seat. “You felt that huh? All of you?”

  Willow nodded his confirmation, but his gaze locked on the bottle of tequila. Poor bastard. Probably missed it like crazy. It had been his vice. Now his vice was blood and women, but Willow kept a tight rein on his hungers.

  As virginal as an incubus could get, he enjoyed time with willing ladies, but he didn’t sleep with them, much to their dismay. I didn’t know how he did it. I suspected his control was off the charts. He knew how to handle power far greater than ours. Still, I wondered how long he could keep that up.

  “You reek of sexual frustration and disappointment,” Falon observed before taking a swig from the liquor bottle. I suspected he chose tequila just to taunt Willow. “He didn’t even make you come before he tried to kill you, did he?”

  Willow’s eyes widened, and he sat back with a head shake. He and Falon had never been anything close to friends. I got the feeling Willow was recalling the time he’d beat the ever-loving crap out of Falon in the FPA building. Good times.

  With an exaggerated sigh, I turned a scowl on Falon. “Must you be so obscene?”

  “Spare us the good girl act. I’m sure Willow’s not that naïve. You love it and you know it. The dirtier the better with you.” He nudged my thigh and snickered.

  After his next swig he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip, capturing a stray drop. A simple motion. Something we all did without thinking. Falon made the small act sensual. A flick of his tongue and my orgasm-denied succubus self demanded that I climb into his lap.

  Not happening.

  “Falon, did you just come here to see if I survived Arys? Sorry to disappoint you but, yeah, I’m still here. Now if you’re satisfied, you can be on your way.” The several inches between us was not nearly enough space. I was tempted to take him back to my office and do him until sunrise.

  “Cut the dramatics. If I wanted you dead, I’d kill you myself. I just turned down a gorgeous woman because of you. Stop trying to run me off every time we’re not fucking.” Another long drink drained the bottle dry. He shoved it to the edge of the table for the servers picking up empties.

  A drunken eyeroll followed, making me wonder how much he’d had to drink so far tonight. Angels were no lightweights, but I’d still seen one plastered. Many times.

  I smiled apologetically at Willow who half shrugged. His gaze strayed to a woman with pink hair who sat near a pool table in the far corner, watching her friends play.

  Despite not wanting to press the matter in front of others, I turned in the booth to face Falon. “Why? Why did you turn her down? If you want to take her in the back, be my guest. Who am I to stop you?”

  It was a dangerous game I played. I both did and did not want him to answer. It shouldn’t have mattered. There were far bigger bads to slay than the details of my relationship with Falon.

  He twisted slightly, propping an elbow on the table. In a long jacket that screamed magazine trendy, his all-black attire made his hair and eyes astoundingly brilliant. From his dark t-shirt to socks that I knew without looking were argyle, Falon dressed to make a statement. Usually that statement was ‘supreme asshole’ but more often than not it was also ‘do me any way you want me.’

  “You, Alexa, are
the bane of my existence.” The sexy smirk he flashed me was one of my favorite things about him. Little did he know. “And you’re toxic as hell. But you fuck like it’s an Olympic event. There’s not one woman I know who can do what you do.”

  I laughed, both insulted and amused. “Am I supposed to take that as a compliment? You turned down someone else because it won’t be as good as it is with me? Touching.”

  “It’s not a compliment. It’s…” His gaze on my lips, Falon trailed off. A frown stole his smirk away. “Inconvenient.”

  Willow made a big show of clearing his throat. “We should discuss what we’ll do now that Salem’s out of the picture. I don’t suppose you’ve seen him, Falon?”

  The angel tore his gaze away. Turning to Willow, he repeated, “Out of the picture? What are you talking about?”

  “Nobody has seen him in weeks,” Willow discussed the matter in a respectful manner despite his hatred for the fallen angel. Just another trait I loved about him. “I suspect he’s holed up in that room with Lilah. He’s done this before. According to a friend, the last time he stayed in there with her for an entire year before resurfacing.”

  Falon rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Shit. That evil bitch has got to be keeping him there to screw Alexa over. Which means they must know something.”

  “She’s screwing herself over too. She should want this to work.” I’d like to throttle Lilah for being such a giant pain in the ass. “If I see that woman again, I’m going to kick her ass all over the place.”

  “Now that I’d like to see.” One hand drifted over the seat between us until Falon’s fingers lazily drew circles on my thigh. “So what do we do? Waiting on Salem probably won’t be an option for much longer.”

  Although I didn’t visibly react, I enjoyed his light, playful touch. It had become familiar, and right now I needed that. I looked to Willow as well, trusting his opinion over any other.

  Willow frowned in the tequila bottle’s direction as a server with a tray of empties smoothly breezed by and collected it. He watched it go, his expression wistful. “I’ll reach out to a few other sources. I think we need to prepare to go it without Salem and Lilah. We shouldn’t rush anything, of course, but we don’t want you and Arys to reach the point of no return.”

  Nodding, I tried to stay on focus. Falon’s finger danced along my thigh in sweeping motions that tickled. “I don’t think we’re there yet, but it’s not the kind of thing I can really put a time frame on.”

  “The way I see it, the best option is for you to try to create your own keystone. One less fragile than a werewolf.” Falon glanced from me to Willow. The two of them shared a look. “Reforming the keystone is the less dangerous option.”

  “Yeah, it is,” Willow agreed. “Without Salem’s help, it’s pretty much the only option.”

  Falon’s finger drifted to my inner thigh. What he’d said held my attention, but his touch dipping closer to my bikini line, fought a good battle for it. “Less dangerous than what?” I asked.

  “A keystone is a solid way to tie both sides together, but to truly mend the rift, one would have to access the twin flame core, where your power resides. Fix the rift at the source.” Willow didn’t appear convinced it was possible. “Few have survived the effort, and none have succeeded.”

  Willow’s explanation sounded far too simple. I glanced at Falon to see if he had anything to add. This had been his idea in the first place. He believed I could mend the rift. Either his confidence in my abilities exceeded my own, or he wanted to get me killed.

  “If it goes wrong,” Falon added, “the tie that binds you could be severed completely. Darkness would consume you both.”

  That was always a risk for the twin flames. I eyed him with a raised brow, trying to figure out if he had an angle in all this. “And you still think I can do it, even with the odds stacked against me?”

  “I do,” he didn’t hesitate to say, “but it’s going to take more power than even you have.”

  Salem and Lilah held vast, immortal power. Power like mine, but stronger and older. If they would help, we stood a greater chance of success. If we pulled it off, we could set us all free.

  Lilah didn’t want that. She feared what becoming truly whole with Salem would mean for her. So lost in her dark ways, she feared the light. A true balance for twins wouldn’t eliminate the dark, but it would rein it in. To her current mindset that was a trap worse than the cage she dwelled in now.

  My gaze went to Willow, and I searched him for some sign that he thought I could do it. He didn’t look as confident as Falon. Still, he offered me hope. “I’ll keep looking for Salem. No matter what happens, Alexa, you’re not alone. We’ll get you through this.”

  I wanted to believe him. But everything kept imploding around me lately. It definitely made for shaky faith. I wanted to fix the unbalance between Arys and me. Yet I couldn’t help the stone of uncertainty that settled in my stomach, leaving me heavy with worry.

  Suddenly the booth wasn’t so comfortable anymore. I sat stiff, unable to relax. Without thinking I reached down to capture Falon’s hand. Only after I’d slipped my fingers through his did I realize what I’d done. The action had come so easily. Natural, even. Panic-gripped I wondered if it would be too awkward if I yanked my hand away.

  Then Falon settled his fingers in against mine and squeezed gently.

  “It’s cool, wolf. Willow will be the guardian and find the solution. And until you can find a way to pull it off, we’ll keep you and your dark half from doing something stupid.” Falon chuckled snidely. “Correction. You’re both idiots outperforming each other on the stupid scale on a nightly basis. We’ll keep you alive.”

  Sure, Falon and Willow were willing to do what they could. They each had their reasons. Willow, the guardian who couldn’t stop protecting. Falon, the shady Circle member who knew more than he shared.

  But they couldn’t be everywhere. They hadn’t been there tonight in the park.

  If Arys and I were meant to destroy one another, no force in this world could do a damn thing to stop it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ARYS

  I raged through the night, trying to run from the urge to go after Alexa. With panic in her wide eyes, she’d thrown me on my ass with my dick out. No less than I deserved.

  Then she ran.

  Watching her go, I warred with myself. In the end it had taken putting a fist through the guest services’ lodge window to keep me from giving chase. Blood dripped from the deep gashes in my knuckles and forearm. The pain had done its job. I’d come back to myself enough to let her escape me.

  Fists clenched, I cut back through the park the way I’d come. To the street where I’d left the Jaguar, currently Alexa’s car, formerly her piece of shit Alpha’s. I gripped the hood with both hands and sucked in cold gulps of air. Inside me dark waged war with light.

  Go after her.

  Don’t be an idiot. Go to him. Calm down.

  The monster inside me wanted to hunt Alexa down, to the very ends of the earth if necessary. I’d become so fucking obsessed with her, it was killing me.

  Because she was our light, our soul, I counted on her to keep us adrift on this raging sea of shit. She would save us. I just had to manage to somehow not kill her first.

  It shouldn’t have been so hard. Over three centuries, I’d mastered my hunger, learned to use it as a weapon. Now it was using me. Making me its bitch in the worst of ways.

  I slammed my bloody fist on the hood, leaving scarlet smears. Dropping into the driver’s seat, I started the engine and let my head fall back against the headrest.

  In the quiet with just the purr of the engine to offer comfort, I heard the distinct voice of the light say, Stand firm in the face of temptation.

  “Yeah, it’s just that fucking easy.”

  The voice had begun to speak to me with growing frequency since Alexa’s death and rebirth as vampire. I despised it. Promises of better things to come. Whispers of encouragement and as
surance that there was more to me than I’d ever let myself dream back in Vegas, in Harley’s harem of blood and sex. As meaningless as it gets, I’d been a whore for power, rolling around in filth to get it.

  The whole time dreaming of her.

  Then she came true. She brought me back to life. Filled me with it. And I killed her.

  Woe is fucking me. Right? I know. Get over it already. Well it’s not for lack of trying. Killing the one you love most kind of fucks you up.

  Especially when you ache to kill her again.

  In an attempt to drown out the angel and demon on each shoulder, I cranked up the stereo and put the car in gear. In record time, I made the drive. The parking lot was almost empty. But the black Jeep I hoped to see was there.

  My hands shook when I got out of the Jag and clenched them into fists. I thrummed with pent up hunger. I’d fucked myself into a nice state of blue balls. So close I’d been to filling her, and bleeding her. Now I hungered on both counts. I knew better than to trust myself like this.

  So I’d come here, Doghead. To the one person I trusted to keep me from doing something I’d regret tonight.

  I burst through the door with more force than intended. It slammed open, drawing the attention of everyone inside. Owen, Shaz’s beta wolf, leapt to his feet ready to defend. He relaxed slightly when he saw me but not completely. Smart wolf.

  A handful of werewolves were scattered about. Other than Owen the only one I knew personally was Izzy. She eyed me warily before turning her attention back to the tattered paperback she held. Or pretending to. Her eyes may have been on the page, but she was keenly aware of any move I might make. Well of course she was hyper-aware; I knew what she tasted like.

  Every wolf in the place was justified in treating me like an interloper. A danger walking among them. A few Doghead wolves had died by my hand. As much as I loved how hard I got at the very scent of wolf blood, not to mention the fantastic high, there were only two wolves I wanted to sink fangs into on a nightly basis.