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

The bathroom was well stocked with hair care items, body wash, and toothpaste. I paused in the doorway, staring at Kale’s things. How could he possibly fair better in Las Vegas? Kale had barely maintained his sanity here, screwing and bleeding everything in sight. Sin City would destroy him.

Between worry for Kale, the incident I’d just had with Shaz, and the never-ending haunting of Arys always in the back of my mind, I was mentally and emotionally exhausted.

Briefly I considered going into the club to snag myself a victim. Since I couldn’t trust myself not to break my own no-kill rule, I resisted and instead got into the shower.

All of the scrubbing and soap in the world wouldn’t wash off the stains of being inside the FPA building. My body might be cleansed, but smut stained my soul. And I didn’t even care. Not really. I’d gone from overemotional to uncomfortably numb. I couldn’t decide which was worse.

I was standing in the bathroom naked, towel drying my hair, when there was a knock on the main door. Probably some scantily clad little thing coming to bleed for Kale.

After wrapping a towel around me, I rolled blue eyes at my reflection in the mirror and went to answer the door. With my hand on the knob, I hesitated, feeling for the energy of whoever was on the other side.

It wasn’t human. Not vampire either. I got the sense that whoever it was, they were cloaking their identity. That narrowed it down considerably.

“Falon,” I said as I opened the door. “What the hell are you doing here? You’re either incredibly brave or unbearably stupid.”

With hands stuffed in his pockets, Falon leaned against the doorframe, the epitome of forced casual. Dressed differently than the last time I saw him, he almost looked human in jeans and a dark-blue shirt. There was no evidence of the beating he’d taken from Willow.

Silver eyes sparkled with amusement as he assessed my attire, or lack thereof. “And you’re naked. It’s like you knew I was coming or something.”

“Or something,” I said with a scowl. “What do you want?”

“I want to finish our discussion. About Shya.” Falon glanced past me into the room. “Is this a bad time?”

I huffed and clutched at the towel, ensuring it didn’t slip. “It will always be a bad time.”

Falon responded to my scowl with a sneer. “Well, now that you’ve gone and given Shya the damn dreamwalker he wanted, we’re running low on time.”

“What do you mean?” The sound of a door opening down the hall panicked me. I stepped back and motioned for him to enter. “Get your ass in here before someone sees you.”

“You’re ashamed to be seen with me? I’m wounded.” He put his hand over his heart in mock agony.

“Very much, actually. Now that our sex tape is making the rounds, I’m even more ashamed to be seen with you.” I closed the door and locked it before leaning against it.

Falon glanced around the room before taking a seat at the small bistro table. “Our sex tape? You’ve seen it? Is it good? I bet it’s fucking spectacular.”

I waited to feel disgust or nausea. I was just annoyed and starting to think he’d come only to antagonize me. “You’re a pig. Start talking before I think of something ghastly to do to you.” He opened his mouth to shoot me a snarky reply, but I held up a hand. “Don’t even. Just talk.”

“A dreamwalker was the worst possible thing you could have given him,” Falon said, his expression grave. “He’s going to use Briggs to access the dreams of anyone and everyone who knows or has something he wants. Even Lilah. Do understand how dangerous that is?”

At one time I’d wondered what Shya would use a dreamwalker for. The obvious answer was to get inside the dreams of others. But then what? In all of the chaos, I hadn’t considered it much further because I’d never expected to give him what he wanted.

I stared at the pale, white flesh on my forearm where Shya’s mark had been. Gone was the chain that held me to him. I was free. Yet, I wasn’t. Because Falon had just told me that by freeing myself, I’d aided in Shya’s evil endeavors. I felt like an idiot. All I’d cared about was sticking it to Briggs and being rid of Shya’s dragon.

“So I fucked up.” My voice was hollow. I dragged a hand through my wet hair and shoved away from the door.

Falon didn’t miss a beat. “You didn’t just fuck up, you went to great efforts to deliver a weapon straight into Shya’s hands. Good job, wolf. I think death made you dumber.”

A weapon. Of course. The FPA was a collector of people that doubled as weaponry. And so was Shya. He wanted Briggs for the same reason the government op did. Power.

“Clearly. I fucked you, didn’t I?” The glare I shot him was wasted. He grinned right through it.

He shook his head, judging my snarky remark as less than stellar. “Was that supposed to hurt? Not your best zinger, that’s for sure.”

Frustration had me clenching my fists and gritting my teeth. So much for being numb. “What do I do? It’s not like I can go over there and take Briggs back.”