Junkyard Queen (Alexa O'Brien Huntress Book 12) Page 8

  Why did we have to talk? Screwing and banter I could handle. This serious conversation shit? No deal.

  “Ok, I’m going to say something, and then we’re both going to pretend it never happened.” To add to that grim statement, Falon rose and strode toward me.

  I stiffened. He didn’t stop until he’d put his hands on the edge of the desk. Then he leaned in until I bent back at an awkward angle to keep from touching him. Trapped against the desk, I readied to defend myself.

  “I have gone out of my way to have you take a leadership role in The Circle of the Veil,” he began, his face inches from mine. “Don’t you dare fuck that up by throwing yourself under the bus for Willow. Your guilt will destroy you. Though Willow and I may not have been best buddies, I can promise you that was the last thing he wanted when he sacrificed himself for you.”

  “Falon—”

  “I put my ass on the line for you. Because this Godforsaken city needs you. Don’t fuck this up.” His silver gaze held mine before dropping to my lips.

  His emphatic declaration shocked me into silence. Tension thrummed between us. I held myself rigid, afraid to even twitch a muscle in my strained position against the desk. I studied his face, angelic still, like carved marble brought to life by inhuman hands.

  Perfect in his beauty but broken on the inside.

  I couldn’t help but be hyperaware of the heat of his body. Torn between wanting him to close the meager space between us and the urge to throw him on his ass, I clutched the desk with clawed fingers.

  Before I could decide to do either, Falon murmured against my lips, “Don’t fucking cry anymore.” Shoving away from me, he stalked toward the door. Gone before I could muster a reply.

  Not that I had one. I stared at the closed door, speechless.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Is this really necessary?” Arms crossed, I glowered at the cold concrete walls of my unfinished basement.

  “It is.” Arys’s tone held no room for argument. “It took three of us to control you last time, and we barely managed.”

  As Arys double checked the newly reinforced door, I noted the hunch to his shoulders. He’d sworn I wouldn’t have to face another night with Shya. He’d promised we’d find a way to break the curse. But we hadn’t. And though that was not Arys’s fault in any way, he felt like he’d failed me.

  “I’ll be fine.” I reached to touch the claw marks on the wall. “You know that, right?”

  He turned to me with wide eyes. “Nothing about what happened last time was fine, Alexa. That demon kicked the shit out of you. He made your wolf rabid, more dangerous than I’ve ever seen you. And I could do nothing but watch. As I’ll do again tonight.”

  So that’s what this was really about. “Arys, don’t let him make you feel helpless. It just gives Shya another victory. We’ll figure this out. He said there is a way to break the curse. I’ll find a way to make him tell me what it is.”

  “Whatever it is, it won’t be easy. That’s not how he operates.” The heavy metal door slammed shut with a boom. Arys leaned against it. “It infuriates me that there’s nothing I can do to help you, that I have to watch you suffer.”

  Trying to lighten the mood, I laughed. “It’s a real blow to your ego, huh?”

  Though he tried to resist, a smile broke through. “Don’t tell anyone. Especially the pup. I have a reputation to uphold.”

  “I won’t say a word.”

  Instead of being here with us, I’d asked Shaz to find Ash. Shaz needed to be wolfy tonight to stay grounded, something he wouldn’t get here, and Ash needed someone like Shaz to guide him. With his own strange shit going on, Shaz didn’t need to deal with mine too.

  Of course he hadn’t seen it that way. It had taken both Arys and I to convince him to go. His wolf needed the release; he needed it. If Ash hadn’t been out there at risk of being alone on the night of his first change, I don’t think Shaz would have agreed.

  We’d spent last night together, running in the forest behind my house. It had been a glorious time of freedom and delight. Running side by side on four feet, as we’d done for so many moons now. The first night of the three nights of the moon had not been taken from me, nor the last. Just tonight. When the moon peaked.

  The sharp pain I’d come to dread slashed through my middle. With shaky hands I peeled off my clothes. If it were anything like last time, the wolf would come fast and angry. Rabid, as Arys had said.

  “It’s happening, isn’t it?” He watched me, worry etched into the lines around his mouth.

  “Yeah, I think so. Whatever you do, don’t let me hurt you.” Vampire or not, a wolf attack could do some damage. And it hurt like hell.

  The pain intensified. I tried to let it happen since fighting it hurt so much worse. My muscles tightened and cramped. Naked, I got down on my knees and clenched my teeth, waiting for the worst to be over.

  Arys formed an energy barrier around himself. One that would hopefully hold should my wolf crash into it several times. I didn’t doubt he could defend himself. I just didn’t want him to have to.

  “I love you, Alexa. No matter what he does to you, don’t give him the satisfaction he seeks. You’re so much stronger than he is.” Arys’s words of wisdom and love faded as the head-spinning blackness closed in.

  My wolf’s violent need to destroy gripped me as she broke free, my body contorting as I cried out. Then the basement was gone, and I found myself blinking at Shya’s swanky modern home.

  “Ahh, it’s good to be back,” I said, trying to beat him to the first snarky remark.

  Silence. That was anticlimactic.

  I got up from the floor, again thankful to see the physical version of me here was clothed. Back in reality my wolf would be doing her damndest to tear Arys apart and escape the confines of the basement.

  Turning in a slow circle I found the place eerily quiet. And dark. The only light in the entire house came from the fireplace, which always had a fire roaring in the hearth.

  Seated in the white easy chair I loathed was Shya.

  “Bring the wine, would you? There’s a bottle in the fridge.” Not much of a greeting. Perhaps the cruel bastard wasn’t feeling himself tonight.

  Opening the fridge revealed much more than one bottle of wine. More than a dozen sat lined up inside, awaiting their turn to be picked. I grabbed one from the front. After a cursory glance at the cupboard, I opted for no glass. Last time he’d smashed me in the face with it.

  Anxiety gripped me like the vicious master it was. I did my best to walk with a relaxed stride as I approached him. Had to play the game. Always it was a game with Shya.

  Reaching the chair I handed him the bottle, surprised to find him totally blotto. He peered up at me. Crimson eyes puffy and bleary, he waved a hand for me to sit down somewhere.

  I chose the ottoman that went with his chair but shoved it several feet away. “What’s your deal? Are you just sitting here drinking yourself stupid?”

  This entire house was a mere illusion, a product of Shya’s power. Trapped inside this stone, his magic still worked here. Apparently demon-manifested liquor beat the good, old-fashioned human kind, but I hadn’t had more than a sip during my last visit.

  “How long have I been in here?” he asked, staring into the fire.

  “A couple months. Not long enough to justify descending into a drunken stupor. Or maybe it is. I don’t know.” A drunken Shya didn’t mean a less dangerous Shya. I stayed on guard, as he might be worse.

  “One can only stand their own presence for so long. I suppose I should be happy to have a guest. I’d forgotten you were coming.” Tipping the bottle to his lips, he chugged from it, finishing a third in a few swallows.

  Well, I sure as hell hadn’t forgotten. I’d been sweating this visit since the last one. “This isn’t a friendly visit, Shya. You forced me in here.”

  He nodded, a slow bob of his head. The firelight danced on his blue-black hair. “Let me out and save us both the trouble of anothe
r visit. I’ll even make you a deal: let me go and I’ll leave you alone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

  Now that was tempting. A little too tempting. Also probably a lie.

  “And just pretend you didn’t do all the shitty things you’ve done? Can’t do that. Also I don’t trust you.”

  With a lazy half shrug, he raised a hand and hit me with a shot of dark energy. He didn’t even look at me when he did it. “Have it your way.”

  I flipped off the ottoman and landed flat on my back. Using the momentum of the hit, I rolled backward and sprang onto my feet. “My way? You think this is my way?”

  Finally Shya gazed in my direction. I got the sense that I might have been out of focus. “So dramatic. Typical woman.”

  Oh, no, he didn’t. “What the fuck did you just say?” I snarled, hands clenched into fists. Letting him goad me so easily was weak, but he knew the right buttons to push.

  The demon chuckled, more of a giggle really. I’d never have believed him capable of such a sound if I hadn’t heard it myself.

  “Women,” he muttered, sour now, the fire once again dominating his focus. “Worst creation ever. Can’t live with them. Can’t love them. Not without a price. Can’t even fucking worship them. They want it all until it’s handed to them, and then they don’t want it anymore. Fickle bitches.”

  My ire slipped away, replaced by amusement. This wasn’t about me at all. “Missing Lilah, are you? I wonder if she’s going stir crazy too. Both of you, locked away like the demon scum you are. You sitting here drunk, pining for her. She’s most likely lounging in luxury, loving and hating Salem but never sparing a thought for you.”

  Yeah, I was asking for pain. But the seething rage that morphed Shya’s face into something almost unrecognizable was worth it. Point for me.

  Bracing for the next shot didn’t make it any easier to bear. I dug my fingers into the plush carpet as fire lit up my insides.

  On his feet, Shya loomed over me. “Do not speak of things of which you know nothing.”

  Because I’d found a way to needle him, I added, “I happen to know more than you think. I know you and Lilah were a thing. I know she set you free when Salem wanted to turn you human. And I know he’s never forgiven you since. In fact, this stone we’re in right now is in Salem’s possession.”

  My head made impact with the brick mantel before I realized he’d grabbed me. Momentarily blind from the skull-smashing pain, I blinked rapidly until my vision cleared.

  “You gave him my prison? Why would you do that?” Shya’s fingers dug into my throat.

  “He demanded it,” I ground out, retaliating with a knee to his groin.

  His eyes widened, and he released me with a curse.

  “That’s how I know those things. He showed them to me. He also showed me their bond, how deep it goes. You’ll never break it, Shya. Whether you get out of here or not.”

  He staggered back, his expression pinched. “So you think you can torment me right back? Glad you came ready to play, Alexa. I knew you wouldn’t bore me.”

  “I think you sit here every day and night tormenting yourself. Did she love you? It seemed like she did. Once.” Getting Shya talking was the best way to garner information he’d never otherwise hand out. And one thing Shya loved to do was talk.

  Poisonous laughter preceded the backhand that connected with my jaw. “Can any demon truly love another? Do you and Falon share such emotion? Or do you merely get something from one another that makes putting up with him worth it?”

  Well played. “If you don’t love her, why do you still want her?” Stupid question. I heard it as it came out and knew I’d messed up.

  “Why do you still want him?” Standing straighter, Shya fetched his demon wine. He took a swig and pointed the bottle at me. “You want him because he ignites a passion in you that nobody else can. He lets you become somebody else. Someone who doesn’t give a fuck, and you love it. That’s what Lilah did for me. And like the two of us, you and Falon will end up much the same. Bitter ex-lovers who can’t even stand the taste of the other’s name in their mouth anymore.” He spat toward the fire as if it might really purge Lilah from him after speaking her name. In a sudden fit of temper Shya flung the bottle into the fire. It exploded in a blast of shards and an inferno of flames.

  I leaped back to avoid the sparks and glass that spewed out onto the floor.

  An ember singed the carpet, and Shya stepped on it with a sigh, like it was an inconvenient afterthought. “Does Falon know I told you about Winter?” he asked on his way to the kitchen for more wine.

  “No.” Afraid to sit, I stood stiffly in the middle of the living room.

  “Ah.” Prying the cork from a bottle, he flicked it into the sink. “That’s what’ll do it. When he finds out you’ve known and pitied him in silence all this time, then he’ll truly loathe you.”

  I scoffed, unable to take him seriously when he listed so far to the side he had to grab the counter for balance. “He already loathes me. I think I’m safe.”

  Shya’s fingers slipped off the counter, and he hit the floor like a run-of-the-mill bar drunk. Though, with careful maneuvering, he saved the bottle. “No.” He just kept talking like it hadn’t happened. A flap of wings and he was on his feet, albeit unsteady. “You have no idea how much worse it’s going to get.”

  I didn’t want to discuss Falon. In fact, I preferred to pretend he didn’t exist even when he was right in front of me.

  Watching Shya drink himself further into oblivion, I began to grow nervous. He was mean enough without the booze. “Maybe you should take a break.” I motioned to the bottle.

  The bastard threw it at me.

  Because he was a drunk idiot and I had my wits about me, I caught the bottle by the neck. It was still full, mostly. Turning his back on me, Shya went for another.

  I couldn’t resist. I just couldn’t.

  In a few quick strides, I crossed the living room to the kitchen. Then I smashed the bottle against the back of his head before I could rethink my decision. Anger drove each hit until the bottle splintered, leaving me holding the jagged neck.

  Shya threw his arms up to ward off another blow. A burst of power went out from him, throwing me back. His recovery was messy but fast. Blood dripped from a wound on his head that had already healed. A pointless attack, I knew, but he’d just worked my last nerve.

  He grabbed me by both arms and pinned me against the island so the hard granite dug into my spine. “So much for the visiting portion of the evening. I guess we’ll jump right to the good stuff.”

  I felt him grab hold of my aura, sinking fingers into the metaphysical part of me. Shielding tight against him, I succeeded in making him work a little harder for it. Still he stripped my power, wrenching everything he could from me. It left me a shell, weakened as much as any vampire could be without true death.

  My jaw dropped open in a pained cry that never manifested. I simply didn’t have the energy to scream.

  Unable to stay upright I collapsed in a puddle of agony. Shya stepped back as if I were a toxic spill he didn’t want touching his shoes. Splayed where the carpet met the kitchen tile, I marveled at how much the soft carpet fibers seemed to bite into my skin. Its touch left me scraped raw.

  Oh, how I wanted to sob. Every nerve in my body screamed like a billion knives stabbed me all over. With great effort I managed to roll onto my side.

  “I said I would break you, Alexa. I haven’t changed my mind about that. But physical violence is too easy. I think it’s time we take it to the next level.” Shya bent down close, reeking of alcohol and smirking like a jackass.

  I struggled to shake my head. No way would I beg and plead. Not with Shya.

  He didn’t even give me that chance. Placing his hand on my forehead he uttered something in that old demon language. My body spasmed and I gasped.

  In Shya’s place stood a woman, blood running from a ragged bite on her neck. “Do you remember me?” she hissed, right up in my
face. “Probably not. I was at the college party where you and your boyfriend slaughtered everyone present. I was in school taking psychology. I wanted to be a therapist and help people. But you took that away from me. And the people I would have helped.”

  Flustered at the sudden turn of events, I tried to speak, feeling like I had to say something to this person that Kale and I had killed. What could I say? Sorry didn’t seem to cut it.

  Before I could work up any words, she was gone, replaced with another bloody victim. The runner I’d killed in the park not so long ago. I’d found a photo of his kids in his wallet.

  Now he shoved it in my face. “They cry every night, asking their mom why I’m not there to read them a bedtime story. She can’t bring herself to tell them that I’ll never be there again.”

  “I didn’t know,” I started to say, but it didn’t matter. There were no excuses or justifications that would make him any less dead.

  The couple that Kale and I had shared on a park bench were next. They told me how they’d just gotten married and were actively trying to have children. And we’d stolen that future.

  The victims kept coming. One by one they told me about everything I’d taken from them. Faces and voices and names that I’d never committed to memory but would now never forget. There were no words, no apologies I could offer. All I could do was listen in silence as they shamed me. A shame I no doubt deserved.

  Each innocent victim left me feeling guiltier than the last.

  By the time they’d all faded and I again stared into Shya’s smug face, I was shaking and sobbing. Both physically and mentally broken, I lay on Shya’s floor, praying for either death or freedom.

  Leaning in close to stare into my eyes, Shya said, “I suppose you’d like to know how to break the curse.”

  No shit, asshole.

  If things were going to get this much worse every time I came back, then I really had to break this curse. Psychological torment was so much worse than a beat down.