Death Wish (28 page)

I perched on the edge of the counter, trying to figure out this fallen yet protective angel. I studied him closely. Long thick lashes framed his beautiful eyes. His skin was flawless and smooth. He smelled faintly of rain on a summer night. Though he was casually dressed in jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, he had an ethereal glow. I could feel the light in him, a quality Falon didn’t have.

“Good thing your kind heals fast,” Willow mused, reaching for fresh towels.

“Thank you for helping me,” I said softly. “Oddly enough, getting my ass kicked has been the best part of my night.”

Willow carefully buried the bloody towels in the bottom of the garbage. I made a useless attempt at finger combing my hair. It was pointless really.

“Let’s go drink. Then you can tell me all about it.”

A few minutes later we were sitting across from one another at a small round table, several shots of tequila placed between us. I eyed the shot glasses warily. Tequila had not been my friend in the past.

“You first.” He slid a shot to me along with the saltshaker. A tray of limes sat within reach. “Take the shot and start talking.”

Simple enough. What did I have to lose other than sobriety? All the booze in the world wouldn’t erase my evening. I skipped the salt and went right for the tequila. Like always, it tasted how I’d imagine floor cleaner would taste. With a shudder, I choked down the shot and reached for a lime. It didn’t take long for the brutal liquor to hit me.

“Where should I start? With the lover I just caught in bed with another woman? Or the sister that works for the FPA who just took one of my best friends into custody?”

Willow tossed back his shot like a champ. “Start at the beginning.”

It was easy to open up to him. As the shots kept going down, the words kept coming. Before I knew it, I was telling him everything. Raoul’s secret past as my mother’s lover, my bond to Arys, issues with Shaz and Juliet, Lilah’s hit on me and the woman I’d killed that very night. It all came spilling out.

 I sat there in a small, seedy bar, confessing my every sin to an angel, but talking to someone who wasn’t a part of my inner circle was liberating. Willow was a keen listener, commenting and questioning in all the right places. His eyes held no judgment, not once.

After a good hour of pouring out my deepest feelings and darkest secrets, I was both drunk and carefree. Sure, it may be temporary, but I’d take it. The tequila hangover I’d have later was going to be brutal, so I might as well make the bender worth it.

“So, what do you think?” I asked finally. “Am I broken or what?”

Willow leaned forward on the table, his hands clasped. “No more than the rest of us. I think you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. You can handle what happened tonight, and you can handle what’s yet to come.”

I ran a finger over the dragon etched into my wrist. “I wish I could be so sure.”

“It’s not supposed to be easy to do what’s right. That’s what makes it worthwhile. You could have given in long ago. Instead you fight the darkness of your vampire.” He spoke with such certainty. “You were never meant to be together. Twin flames rarely live the same lifetime. They aren’t meant to. Too often, they destroy one another. The intensity of their bond is too great, and it consumes them.”

“How is that supposed to be making me feel better?” I laughed drunkenly, unable to let the weight of his words sink in just then.

“Because the two of you have a purpose. Withstand the hardships of your bond, and you’ll be defined by the good you do. Not the bad.”

Maybe he was right. The mistakes I’d made, they didn’t define me; I wouldn’t let them. There was a reason for everything. I had to believe that.

“I wish I could do something about that.” Willow’s gaze fell to my wrist. “There was a time when I could have abolished it.”

“What’s your story, Willow?” Curiosity got the best of me even though I had planned not to ask. “How can you be fallen and be so amazing?”

  “My story is hardly worth telling.” He shrugged and reached for another shot of tequila. “I’d much rather talk about you.”

“I’m sick of talking about me. Sick of being me. Sometimes.” Tequila burned its way into my stomach, and I made a face. The lime did little to take the edge off.

Willow frowned. “You don’t mean that. Everything you’ve faced has led you to this moment. Right where you’re supposed to be. Trust it.”

Before I could respond, we were rudely interrupted by a grey-haired, overweight drunk. He stumbled into our table, slurring an apology. His bloodshot gaze landed on me, taking in my battered appearance.

His lips peeled back into a slimy grin, revealing several missing teeth. He gave Willow a smack on the back and chuckled. “Looks like the little lady stepped out of line. You do what you gotta do, ain’t that right, pal?”

Willow was on his feet throwing a punch before I could blink. The drunk took a fist in the jaw and went down, out cold. I gaped in surprise at the angel as he shook his fist and cursed.

The bartender shouted for us to take it outside. Slapping a few bills down in front of him, Willow grabbed a bottle from behind the bar.

“Let’s get out of here. A walk by the river with a bottle of cheap wine sounds about perfect right now.” For an angel Willow was a pretty wild guy.

It had been ages since I walked in the river valley. The river divided the south side of the city from the rest. We descended the stairway leading us down, away from downtown to the quiet beauty of the river.

Willow popped the cork on the cheap sparkling wine, taking a long swallow before passing it. Producing a pack of cigarettes, he lit one up and took a long drag. I held up a hand in refusal when he offered it to me. I couldn’t help but laugh. Willow was a heck of a guy.

“Alright, now spill it,” I said when we were seated on top of a picnic table, staring out at the dark river. “Tell me how an angel falls.”

He was silent for so long that I thought it was his refusal. Lighting another cigarette, he let out a plume of smoke and fixed his gaze on the water. “There are so many ways. Many reasons why. My sin? I fell in love with a whore.”

Like Falon, Willow didn’t give off an energy vibe I could easily feel when his power wasn’t in active use. But, seeing the pain in his eyes, he didn’t have to. I swallowed the bubbly wine; it tasted faintly of strawberry. I could say nothing that would be an appropriate response, so I respectfully waited for him to continue.

“Christina was special. She had a heart of gold, as they say. In the end, she’d been more concerned about my fall from grace than her own well-being. She wasn’t just a woman who slept with men for money. She was a lost soul able to still find hope in every sunrise who believed people were better than they were ever given credit for.” He paused, and I pushed the bottle into his hand. His lips twitched in a half smile of thanks. “I knew what I was risking by letting myself get involved with her. But, it was love. That love cost Christina her life.”

“I’m sorry, Willow. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.” Now it was my turn to regard him with sympathy. An angel forbidden to love a human. How tragic. But, I knew well that there is no choice in love. We are all its slaves.

“I just wanted to save her. Instead, I condemned us both.” Willow tossed his cigarette butt and reached to light another. “That was a year ago. And now, I’m just another fallen angel with grey wings and blood on his hands.”

I accepted the last of the wine, wondering how the heck we’d polished it off so fast. My head was spinning. I’d had more than enough, but I drained the bottle anyway.

“Silver,” I said, having to put more effort into the one word than I should have. I was so going to regret this come hangover time.

“Excuse me?” Willow raised a brow.

“Your wings. They’re silver. And beautiful.”

“And you’re slurring like a first class wino,” he chuckled, “but thank you.”

An easy silence settled over us. We stared out at the bright city lights on the opposite shore as they sparkled against the night sky. More than a few times, they bled together as my vision swam. I needed to sleep it off, but I couldn’t tear myself away.

Dawn was two hours away yet. It was nice, sitting there inside the illusion of a quiet, beautiful night. But, illusion it was; the visual of Shaz and Bianca drifted up from the depths of my memories where I’d shoved it. I felt ill. Booze and betrayal don’t mix well.

“Can you forgive him?”

“I don’t know.” A chilly breeze rolled in off the water. I shivered, certain it wasn’t merely from the cold. “I’m not sure I can I ever look at him again and not see what I saw tonight.”

Willow nodded in understanding. He gave me a studious look again, head tilted as if he were choosing his words carefully.

“I know how painful it is. The woman I loved slept with men for money. A lot of them. Even now, I don’t understand how she could do it. But, I know one thing: she loved only me. Not them.” His hand was warm against mine as he patted it gently. “Does he love her?”

I bit my lip and closed my eyes. My chest tightened painfully. “I don’t know. He might.”

“You already know the answer. Deep down, you know. So, does he love her?”

I opened my eyes to find him staring at me expectantly. He was right. I did know.

“No. He doesn’t love her.” Saying it didn’t make me feel any better. Knowing it changed nothing.

“Then you have a choice to make.” Willow offered me an encouraging smile. “But first, go home and get a good sleep. You look like you need it.”

Before we parted ways a few blocks from The Wicked Kiss, Willow extended an open invitation to contact him any time I needed a friend or just a gut-punching drink.

“A friendly warning, Alexa,” he gestured to the dragon on my arm. “Demons and angels have clearly cut lines and rules they have to follow. But, some fall in between. Fallen angels, vampires, shifters and so on, they are shades of grey, able to bend rules and command parts of both worlds. It’s why Shya does what he does. He needs those shades of grey. Watch out for him. And, don’t hesitate to get in touch if you need to.” 

“I’m not sure how I could ever return the favor.” I was touched by both his warning and his offer. “But, if I can ever do anything…”

“I’ll let you know.”

I was in no shape to drive. I also wasn’t up to telling Arys about my night. Not yet. I needed some time alone. Since I had no home to call my own, I was left with little choice. I’d stay in Harley’s old room at The Wicked Kiss.

Shaz’s car was gone from the parking lot when I returned. Letting myself in the back entry, I double checked the door lock behind me and headed for Harley’s room. I grit my teeth as I passed the room where I’d caught the two of them. To my relief, I felt no sense of Bianca or anyone else inside.

When I stood awkwardly in the middle of Harley’s room, I sent a text message to Arys to tell him I wouldn’t be home at dawn as planned. He’d be pissed that I didn’t call, but I didn’t want to have that conversation.

The strangeness of sleeping in the same room where Shaz and I had killed Arys’s sire was quickly replaced by stomach turning nausea. Oh, damn you, tequila.

 I soon fell into a dizzying sleep. Thanks to the ass-kicking booze, I fell past the point of dreams into the black abyss of liquor-induced slumber.

Chapter Eighteen

It was evening by the time I rolled down the short stretch of highway to Stony Plain. Several hours of drunken sleep had left me feeling like a zombie. My head throbbed, and I felt both hungry and nauseous at the same time. A deadly combination. The entire drive home was spent swearing up and down I’d never touch tequila again.

I made a brief trip through a drive-thru for coffee and a yogurt cup. I really should get something in my system. If I didn’t pull myself together, I would be no help to Kale.

“Aw, crap.” The sight of Shaz’s little blue Chevy Cobalt parked in front of Arys’s house brought the curses streaming from my lips. Couldn’t he just leave this alone? I didn’t want to look at him right then let alone talk about it.

I half-heartedly considered driving right by and going to Kylarai’s for a shower and meal instead. It had been home once. She’d welcome me with open arms, and I could use a friend right now.

Feeling like death and in great need of a hot shower, I made the decision to suck it up and go inside. I would face the music, but that didn’t mean I had to dance. With a firm hold on my tongue and the nasty things I wanted to spit in wounded fury, I sidled up the walk and opened the door.

It was quiet. The inside of the house was draped in darkness. Leaving the afternoon sun behind, I stepped into the veiled cover of Arys’s house. Right away, I could feel it. Energy hung heavy on the atmosphere, remnants of power that stank of bloodlust, desire and pleasure. What the fuck?

Letting the door slam, I swept through the kitchen to the living room. Shaz was asleep on the couch with a light blanket draped over him. He stirred at my approach. The scent of a fresh wound drew my attention to the vampire bite on the inside of his wrist. Along with the spiced up residual energy in the house, it wasn’t hard to put it all together. This had to be a bad dream.

Arys was a dark shadow in the hall as he emerged from the bedroom clad in a robe. “What the hell happened to you?”