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

Falon tossed the cuffs into the corner behind the door as he strode over to peer out the window. “You sure are catching on to the ways of our kind. I’ve been thinking about what you said before, about Shya. I don’t think we can keep him from manifesting on this plane, but I do think we have options. But we’ll have to work together.”


With a frown, I pondered this. Falon had been Shya’s right hand guy, which was especially odd since Falon wasn’t even a demon. He was still walking that barely there line in between. Their partnership had changed the night Falon helped me drive Shya back to the other side. Or maybe it had never been what Shya had presumed it to be. Falon always had seemed to do his own thing, regardless of Shya’s expectations. The fallen angel had an agenda, and I wanted to know what it was.

I was about to say as much when Falon reached for the door handle. There was a sound like a loud zap of static electricity and a charge so strong it made my hair float. Falon was flung back like an explosive had gone off in his face. He hit the wall above the desk and slid down.

“What the fuck was that?” I breathed the words, shock having stolen my voice.

Falon gathered himself and shoved off the desk, looking pained. “That was me fucking up. Enjoy it while you can. It doesn’t happen much.”

My gaze darted between Falon and the door. “Explain.”

His well-defined features were set in a hard scowl. He seemed to be both embarrassed and pissed at himself. “Someone put a ward on the room,” he said. “We’re trapped in here. I can’t get out.”

Chapter Twenty

I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or hit something. “What do you mean you can’t get out?”

Falon cast a scathing look my way. “I mean what I just fucking said. There’s a ward on the room. Cast by a demon if I had to guess. To keep us magically inclined types trapped inside. I had no idea it was there until I touched the door.”

Laughter was easier than tears and violence. So I laughed because it was just so fucking ridiculous. Rather than coming to my so-called rescue, Falon had only gotten himself trapped in here with me. His glare darkened. He didn’t share my amusement.

“So no poofing either?” I asked when my laughter had subsided.

“No.” That one word held enough seething anger to silence my laughter entirely. “In, apparently, but not out.”

“But what about sunrise when you can’t take corporeal form anymore? Then what?” I stared at him, perplexed.

“Hard to say for sure. It could bind me to the room, so I’m forced back here when the sun goes down. Fuck.”

That’s when it sunk in. Falon was trapped in here with me, at least until whenever Briggs or someone else came back. There was nothing funny about that at all. “Well… fuck.” I eyed him, assessing his sour mood. I couldn’t decide if having his company was better than being alone or not. “Why would a demon do such a favor for the FPA? Never mind. Stupid question.”

Demons only did things when they got something out of it. There was a good chance Shya himself had put the ward on this door when he was still chummy with the Feds.

It all made me a little more wary and somewhat respectful of Briggs and his team. They were improving their weapons and, evidently, also their lockup. Now if he could just stop getting his men killed, he would really be onto something.

“Demons are more involved in government activity than you would think. I should’ve known better. I should’ve checked first.” Falon had drifted back over to the door where he looked it over with a scrutinizing glare.

“Shoulda. Coulda. Woulda,” I quipped, and that glare landed on me. This was going to be fun. Maybe I should try to be helpful. “So even with the power we both have, we can’t get out of here?”

Falon rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling as if praying for patience. “You don’t know how wards work, do you? A ward is a door, a lock, a barrier. Whatever. It’s pure magic, breakable only by the demon who made it or those with greater power. Like an angel or a demon more powerful than the one who made it.”

“Great. So now we’re roommates until Briggs comes back. That’s swell.” I never moved from my place on the bed, leaning against the wall. Falon was doing a good job of taking up space, pacing the small room. What else could I do but watch?

Falon paced over the broken chair, kicking pieces each time he passed through. Then he stopped all of a sudden. “I swear, every time I help you out, I pay a price.”

I scoffed, wishing I had something heavy to throw at him. “I didn’t ask for your help.” The atmosphere grew thick with frustration. A showdown with Falon was not on my to-do list, much as I might enjoy it. So I scrutinized his attire, seeking a way to lighten the mood. “You’re looking especially trendy tonight. Have you been reading GQ magazine?”