Coda (Alexa O'Brien Huntress Book 13)

by Trina M. Lee

Kale couldn’t resist the fear permeating the room, the victim response he loved best. He reached for Barry, paused, and instead pulled me close, kissing me. Slipping his tongue along my bottom lip, Kale captured the blood smears there.

  I trembled. So badly I wanted this, but that didn’t make it right. It didn’t make it something I could or should do to either of us.

  Before I could torment myself too much with choices, Kale broke off the kiss and went for Barry. Like a tightly wound animal at the breaking point, he snapped. Targeting Barry’s artery, his fangs plunged deep, and blood sprayed, painting the off-white comforter with scarlet spatters. Barry was dead in no time.

  Too bad he’d gotten caught in something so stupid. Wyatt was the one I wanted most. If he was still in the city, I’d find him.

  With blood-stained lips, Kale kissed me again. I fell into him, letting myself enjoy the demand in his touch, the plea in his tenderness. He held my face, just breathing in the moment.

  A sudden swell of emotion choked me. Could I do this? Give myself to him? Would the memory of our last time haunt me more if that memory was formed now, knowing his death was coming?

  More importantly, should that memory be made in a cheap motel room with a dead guy beside us? Fuck no.

  “I can’t do this.” I pulled away. “Not here. Not like this. Not with him.” I flung a hand at Barry.

  Kale paced away, as far as the small room would allow. He ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it into place. His attention fixated on the floor, like he didn’t trust himself to look at me. “No, it can’t happen like this. You deserve better.”

  “Me? No, Kale. You deserve better. If you want to be with me before … before the full moon, then I’m all yours.” I surveyed the dumpy room, my gaze landing on poor, stupid Barry. “But this is not how that should happen.”

  “You’re right.” Kale dragged his gaze to mine. His craving for me lurked within his eyes, but it didn’t command him. The adoration within him shone brighter. And it was genuine. “We deserve better.”

  He held a hand out to me, and I went to him. Letting him wrap me in an embrace, I did my damndest to focus on each detail. From the warmth of his chest beneath my cheek to the firm but gentle press of his face in my hair. To remember it forever.

  I couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting any part of him. But the sharp knife-stab in my heart promised that would never happen.

  * * * *

  I didn’t expect to find Arys at my house when I got in. Before coming home Kale and I had swung by the storage facility Barry had told us about. And though we picked up Rylan’s scent, we found no sign of him. Those motherfuckers had beat us, moving him before we arrived. Smudge would have people looking for him around the clock.

  Because Wyatt wasn’t leaving my city alive. If he wanted me as bad as Barry claimed, he’d slip up sooner rather than later.

  I kicked my boots off in the doorway and headed down the hall to the open kitchen and living room. Then I slowed when I got close enough to see Arys. An array of drywall patching and paint supplies littered the table. Carefully he blended new paint into the old as he fixed the hole he’d put in my wall.

  A little dumbfounded, I watched him work. Having an artsy touch, Arys did a great job making the patched hole blend.

  But that wasn’t what blew my mind.

  Fixing the hole he’d punched in my wall in a fit of anger wasn’t just the proper thing to do. It was Arys’s way of admitting he’d been wrong. Something I didn’t see often.

  “Any luck finding your hunter? What’s his name? Wyatt?” Arys glanced up from his task. A smudge of paint adorned one cheek.

  “Not yet. Found his friend. Got a little info but nothing that’s panned out so far.” I nodded toward the wall. “Thank you for doing that.”

  Arys dropped the paint brush on a plastic bag on the table. “Don’t thank me. I shouldn’t have done something so juvenile.”

  Agreed. Still, I knew an apology when I saw one, so I merely nodded and said nothing.

  He came to stand close, just short of touching. Like he didn’t trust himself.

  I understood. I could feel the tension too, brimming beneath the surface. Our grip on the emotion between us felt precarious.

  “You smell like Sinclair,” he observed, though his tone remained neutral. When I didn’t respond he continued, “I know how much you’re suffering. And you never say a word. You try to hide it, but you can’t. Not from me.”

  No, never from him. The man who shared my soul.

  “I know,” I replied, wary of where this might be going. So easily he could fly off the handle and accuse me of forcing him to suffer along with me. That wouldn’t be Arys talking though, just the darkness that ruled him and taunted me by whispering killer, killer, killer.

  Again he surprised me. He hooked his pinky finger in mine, the barest of touches but more than enough to create a spark between us. “I’m sorry that you have to go through this. I’m sorry you’re suffering.”

  We both knew he’d never mourn Kale a night in his life. As he felt the echo of my pain, I felt the echo of his satisfaction. I didn’t begrudge Arys those feelings. If I’d been in his place, I’d have felt the same way.

  I ran a finger over his jaw line, a tentative touch. “I know you are.”

  “I’m afraid, Alexa. Of what’s happening to us. I’m struggling to hold onto you, to that perfect place we go together. But it feels like it’s fading. There is no perfect place anymore. We have to fix this. Somehow.” Arys readily admitted to many things. Fear was not one of them.

  My gut clenched. “I’m scared too.”

  He pulled me close and held me tight. Almost too tight. A tremor shook him as he clung to me with a desperation I’d never seen in Arys before. A desperation that ricocheted through me, becoming mine as well.

  The sudden and raw realization struck me that I could lose him too. I couldn’t survive that. Would I even want to? If being with him was this hard, how much worse would it be without him?

  I couldn’t lose them both. I wouldn’t. Kale and I were never meant to be. But Arys, he was my other half, a dark reflection of myself. We shared a purpose. We couldn’t unravel now.

  Since I refused to voice the dread that slithered through my mind, I assured him, “There has to be a way to fix this. And we’ll find it.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Arys and I arrived at The Wicked Kiss just before midnight, later than usual. Not wanting to leave the false comfort of my bedroom, we’d lain together for hours. Holding on to what was left of us.

  I hoped Jez was around so we could touch base about the hunters. I hadn’t heard from her since she left with Smudge the night before. Couldn’t help but wonder if they’d been working at all.

  When I walked into the loud, busy nightclub I was shocked to find Willow, sitting in his favorite seat at the bar. My search for Wyatt would have to wait.

  I exchanged a glance with Arys who shrugged. I’d asked Willow to take some time to think about what he asked. Apparently he was done thinking.

  Three shots of tequila were lined up in front of him on the bar. He chewed a lime wedge, eyeing those around him with more suspicion than they deserved. Anxious, afraid of the demons who might come for him, he’d accepted the risk of coming here.

  So I knew he was damn serious.

  “Willow.” I sidled up to him with a smile. “I’ve missed seeing you here. Feels good to have you back.”

  He held up a tequila shot in an imaginary toast and downed it. “Feels good to be back. Didn’t realize how much I’d come to like this place.”

  Arys quipped, “Oh, you’ll like it a whole lot more in no time.” When I elbowed him in the ribs, he only grinned.

  “I want to do it.” Another shot down the hatch. Willow addressed both of us. “Tonight.”

  Inwardly I groaned, but I forced my face to reveal nothing. “Tonight? Are you sure? What about taking time to think about it?”

  “Alexa, I’ve been thi
nking about it since the night I woke up in Shaz’s apartment in this wretched mortal body. Being a vampire gives me some fighting chance, buys me precious time. My mind is made up.” Willow motioned to Josh the bartender for two more shots. “Just give me a minute to say goodbye to tequila and I’m ready.”

  I turned to Arys, communicating without a word. In his eyes I saw acceptance. This would happen. He would do it for Willow. And I had to accept it too. Because it wasn’t my decision to make.

  Ok, fine, I guess this was happening. I didn’t feel good about it, but seeing as Willow had become a demon for me, this was certainly the lesser of two evils. Darkness would again taint him, as it did every vampire. Birthed from demon kind, our power was rooted in that dark place. Our humanity kept us from becoming like demons, fully overtaken by evil.

  Willow was a special case. There were no guarantees here.

  He enjoyed every last shot of the nasty liquor. Drunk enough to stumble when he stood, he laughed and flicked a chewed lime rind across the bar. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s get this over with.”

  Frowning the entire way, I followed Willow’s drunk ass down the hall to my office. It seemed like as safe a place as any. I’d awoken in that room as a vampire. Willow would do the same.

  “It will be fine, Alexa,” Arys admonished when he caught sight of my deeply etched frown. “No matter how bloodthirsty he is, he’ll never try to purge the entire city. So that’s something.” His soft laughter tickled my insides.

  That made it a lot harder to be irritated. “Not funny, Arys.”

  “The guy has lived since the beginning of time. I’m pretty sure he’s more than qualified to make this choice.” Again Arys had to go and be right.

  I really needed to start enjoying the brief times when he was wrong. They just didn’t happen often enough.

  In the quiet confines of my office, I tried one last time to sway Willow. Not because I wanted him to be a frail human easily killed by any demon with a grudge. Simply because it was Willow.

  I’d always wanted better for him. Better than drowning his sorrows in tequila each night so they’d stop repeating the name of the woman he’d loved and lost because of Shya. Better than being overcome with a darkness that had been meant for me. Better than getting high on the blood and pain of the people he’d once sworn to protect.

  Just better.

  Willow embodied all that was good and holy in this world. And it had earned him pain and suffering that should have belonged to someone else.

  “Willow, you don’t want this. You’re too good to be like us.” As every word left my mouth, I knew it fell on deaf ears. His mind was made up.

  Instead of trying to convince me, Willow turned to Arys. “You’re doing this, I presume?”

  Arys flashed a pensive glance my way. “It should be both of us. Alexa?”

  “I’m not binding him to me, Arys. You know how dangerous that is.” Leaning on the edge of my desk, I stood stiff, hating this whole ordeal.

  “You don’t have to bind him. Take his blood, and he’ll take mine.” Arys made it sound so simple. “Maybe it won’t make a damn bit of difference, or maybe it will balance out the transition. Either way, he’ll turn.”

  I stared at Willow. Letting my gaze home in on the pulse in his neck, I swallowed hard. Could I do that? Bleed him? To the brink of death.

  “No,” Willow broke in. “Both of you do it. I must be the strongest I possibly can be. That’s the only way to guarantee my survival. I’m sorry, Alexa. I know you don’t want that tie between us, but for me, it’s a small price to pay to not be human. And trust me, as a guardian, I never thought that would be something I’d ever hear myself say.”

  “But Willow…” Son of a bitch. This was not my choice. This was his. “Fine. We’ll both do it.”

  They allowed me a moment to gather myself. This shouldn’t have been harder for me than my victim.

  He was more than a little drunk but ready. Stone-cold sober, I was about to get drunk on him. Taking those first few steps toward Willow hurt. The rational voice in my head screamed for me to refuse. Not to participate in this. Yet the vampire within me was all for it, eager for a taste of him.

  I made Willow tell me one more time that he wanted this. His drunkenness didn’t negate his decision. If anything, it only confirmed it.

  Willow stared at me with those enchanting green eyes that glimmered with gold. Even bloodshot as they were, their beauty remained. He’d gone over and above for me. Giving himself in every way. Choosing to save me from Shya. Condemning the woman he loved, out of duty to his calling. His duty to protect me.

  What I was about to do could be a curse. Or a gift. Knowing what it meant to him, after all he’d faced, it had to be a gift.

  “You will always be my angel,” I whispered, unable to give my words any volume.

  With a wistful smile, Willow pushed a lock of hair out of my face.

  I shifted into the predator’s mindset, seeing him now as what he begged to be. My victim. I grabbed his arm and dragged his wrist close. Staring hard I watched the gentle throb of his pulse just beneath his skin. He smelled like soap and tequila. And blood.

  Human blood.

  Breathing in the scent of him, I slipped deeper into my dark place. It was impossible to do this without having him fall under my thrall. Willow’s eyes glazed over with the sheen that I knew so well.

  Slowly his desire grew, all manipulation. Not real. I’d have to remember that later when I felt awkward about this whole exchange.

  Holding tight to my control, I gently tipped his head to the side. Holding Willow’s wrist out to Arys, I went for his neck.

  I couldn’t let myself think. If I did, I’d back down. So with my mind blank, empty, I bit into his jugular.

  Willow groaned, a sound of pain and pleasure. Caught in the raging sea of my power, he slipped below the surface. As his blood spilled into my mouth, he grasped a handful of my hair in a sensual yet aggressive hold.

  As much as I enjoyed the lust of my victims, this was one time when I could have done without it. Doing us both a favor, I angled my knee between us, keeping him from rubbing against me. Neither of us needed that memory.

  Willow’s blood tasted clean and new. How I imagined a newborn must taste, though I had no intention of ever finding out firsthand. Laced with tequila, it brought back the memory of many whiskey-hazed nights.

  I kind of missed those days.

  But something else lurked there too, the faintest trace of something more. Something celestial.

  My eyes widened as it hit me.

  Beside me Arys basked in the desire that hung heavy like a musky perfume. His lips were pressed to Willow’s wrist, eyes closed.

  Even as his strength waned Willow attempted to seduce me. My strategically placed knee kept me from feeling what lay between his legs, doing us both a favor. However, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my dark side felt dissatisfied. Being more hands on with my victim produced a flood of pheromone-heavy vibes. The good stuff, a high I could walk on, straight into the clouds of euphoria.

  When he failed to breach my barrier, Willow captured my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing my fingertips. His manner so gentle, so affectionate, for a split second I faltered, wondering if I could finish what I’d started.

  Most men under my thrall succumbed to their inner carnal nature. They could go from hating me to wanting to do me in seconds. It didn’t matter that it was me. It could be anyone, and they’d react the same way.

  Not Willow though.

  Even though he tried to press closer, he wasn’t lascivious about it. Despite the lust-drenched fog filling his mind, he remembered who I really was. And he respected me. He never tried to touch me anywhere that only a lover would touch. He kissed my hand, his lips lingering over my knuckles. He touched my hair, entangling his fingers in my blonde tresses. And even when his touch grew firm, bordering on possessive, it never stopped being respectful.

  Feeding on
Willow brought a different rush, an unexpected joy. He was in my head, my heart, all around me. I drank him in, savoring the way his life felt in my hands as it slowly slipped away.

  The beat of his heart thundered in my ears.

  It stuttered and I pulled away. So in tune was I with the fact that this was Willow, there was no chance in hell I’d lose control and fuck this up.

  Arys eased him down on the couch and sat next to him. “Care to do the honors?” He extended his own wrist to me.

  Now time became a factor. We had to move fast. I took Arys’s offered wrist and bit deep. The brief taste of him shocked my system. I licked blood from my lips and sat back to watch as Arys extended his bloody wrist to Willow.

  The former angel didn’t hesitate. With the last of his strength, he drank from Arys’s wound. Arys grabbed my wrist and bit, shoving it at Willow. Leaning heavily on me, Willow struggled to stay upright, clutching my bleeding wrist to his lips.

  Until he simply couldn’t any longer.

  Arys pulled away when Willow ceased to breathe. We eased him to the couch, hoping to make him as comfortable as possible.

  This part made me nervous. The part where his heart slowed to a stop. All we could do now was wait.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Unable to sit there staring at Willow’s dead body, we left the office but locked it up tight. As soon as I reached the heart of the club, I sent Justin to stand watch outside the door. I wasn’t taking any chances.

  “I hope I didn’t just make a mistake I can never take back.” The taste of Willow’s blood lingered in my mouth, and the euphoric sensations of death and desire clouded my mind.

  “Can’t be any worse than making him human.” Arys gave a lazy shrug and perused the dance floor like a dessert buffet.

  I recoiled at the implication in his remark. “What the fuck, Arys? I did the only thing I could do to save him and the rest of us. Nice to know how you really feel about it.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. It wasn’t a personal attack on your decision. Fuck, you’re touchy.”