Forget About Midnight (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #9)

“What’s it like for you now?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

On the surface he seemed like the Willow I’d known before, but the oily, demon power clinging to him and the faint scent of sulfur made it impossible to deny the truth. He wasn’t the same any more than I was. In our efforts to overthrow Shya’s plan, we’d both come out tainted by evil. Willow’s sacrifice had been much greater than mine.

“I’m still me,” he said, reaching for the tequila bottle as if to confirm that statement. “I still have free will. There’s no rule that says I must do the things my dark brothers are doing. However, there is now a part of me that wants to. There are new desires, new sins, horrible thoughts and rash actions. I imagine it’s quite similar to what you’re experiencing. The difference though is that it’s too late for me. It is not too late for you.”

He caught my gaze and held it. There was a silent plea in his red eyes. He had given himself to the darkness for me. Letting him down was not an option.

I squeezed his hand, finding strength in his familiar, friendly touch. “I hope you’re right about that.” I searched him, a question dancing on the tip of my tongue. “Why haven’t you gone after Shya yet? I mean, you must owe him one hell of an ass kicking.”

Willow pondered this, unable to hide the shadows that flitted through his eyes. “Like I said, I’m still me. Do I want payback for what he did to Christina? Like you wouldn’t believe. But vengeance won’t change Shya. It would only change me.”

I nodded, understanding completely. Willow was still too good to ever be as bad as Shya, and I understood that if anyone was going to make Shya pay for what he did to Willow, it would have to be me.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Willow continued, “I’m off to crash a party I wasn’t invited to. There are some perks to regaining my power even though it’s now dark. Ruining demon rituals is one of them.” He smirked, looking pleased with himself.

Willow rose and held out his arms in an invitation I couldn’t refuse. I hugged him tight, trying not to focus on the evil force thrumming through him but instead on the genuine warmth and purity of his spirit.

When we pulled back, worry creased Willow’s brow. “You need to reconnect with Arys. Whatever this is doing to you, it’s also doing to him. Remember that.”

He kissed my forehead and vanished. Our visit had been much too short, but I was elated, relieved, all kinds of good at having seen him. Willow was a constant inspiration. Rather than being a victim of what he had become, he was using it to thwart the plans and rituals of other demons. The dark battling the dark, an intriguing concept. A rarity I was sure.

Willow was all dark and still choosing to serve the light. It was similar to what Falon had shared. Could creatures of darkness truly serve the light from the inside? And more specifically, could I? Could I find a way to honor the light within me while still being plagued by the dark?

As I pondered it, I surveyed the room, taking note of the vampires present and the herd of humans that continued to pour into the building. They made it so easy. Too easy. That’s what Arys hated so much about the place. It stole the thrill of the hunt.

And yet, I could also see why Kale did enjoy The Wicked Kiss. One could spend days screwing and bleeding a victim or victims, never surfacing from the fog, staying constantly wrapped in the high of it all.

There was no safe way to be a vampire. We were damned either way.

Willow was right. This madness was not mine alone. Arys was suffering too. Not only was he suffering, he was giving me the space I’d asked for. I’d fought so hard with him so many times about such things. Now I missed them. Careful what I wish for, right?

My phone vibrated in my bag. It was a text message from Jez: Don’t worry about me. I’m at home. It’s all good.

She must have thought I was an idiot or something. Her message was intended to keep me away and to make me stop calling. I wasn’t going to be that easily deterred.

I went out to my car to fetch the change of clothing I always kept in the trunk. It was Werewolf 101 really. Then I headed back inside to Kale’s room to use the shower. Yeah, like that wasn’t going to be weird.

Walking into room number thirteen was a face punch of leather and the residual hum of honey-sweet energy. Maybe I should’ve told Gabriel to take Kale’s room. This was much harder than I’d anticipated.

My gaze took in everything: The half-empty liquor bottle and lipstick-stained cup on the table. The haphazard arrangement of blankets on the bed. The room needed a cleaning. Removing all evidence of Kale from it was a priority.