September Moon (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #8)

The black-tainted energy took hold, winding itself around my essence, making itself a part of me. It was mine now, no longer contained by Falon. He swept my mouth once more with his tongue before breaking off the kiss. I opened my eyes to find him staring at me with a bizarre mix of intrigue and horror.

“If I didn’t know better, Falon, I’d say you enjoyed that,” Arys observed with a glare vicious enough to wilt flowers.

“Yeah, well you do know better.” With a toss of his fair hair, Falon stepped back and scowled at me. “Tomorrow night. Midnight. That’s when the spirit realm will be most active. Don’t put it off. Otherwise it may kill you.”

“Right, my pathetic mortal self can’t take it. I know the drill.” Shaky and feeling faint, I leaned back against the headstone, knocking the empty glass atop it into the grass.

Falon pinned Arys with a stern look. “Don’t fuck this up. You have to make sure this happens. Do whatever you can to be ready for Shya when he gets there.”

“Will you be there?”

Arys’s question went unanswered. Falon had vanished without another word.

“Good pep talk,” I muttered.

We stood there in silence for a moment, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I was going to die tomorrow night. It didn’t feel real. I kept waiting for the earth shattering terror to strike. Other than the initial fear, I just felt…relieved. Soon the agony of the wait would be over.

“Arys? Are you all right?”

He stood stiffly, staring at the rows of headstones. I didn’t think he was really seeing them though. I laid a hand on his arm, and he turned suddenly, sweeping me into his embrace. For a long time he just held me. His confusion and pain wrapped around me like a blanket. It echoed inside me as if it were my own. Perhaps it was.

“I can’t believe it’s happening,” he whispered. “I’d started to think it wouldn’t.”

“Me too. Wishful thinking. Once it’s over, we won’t have it hanging over our heads anymore. It could be a good thing.” My words were true, though my tone lacked conviction. I wanted to believe it.

“Everything will change.” There was such tension in Arys, as if he might burst at any moment.

I threw my arms around his neck and stroked a hand through his hair. “Not everything. This won’t change. Me and you, like this.”

“You don’t know that.”

I forced him to meet my gaze. He was the strong one in the face of insanity, and I needed him to remember that. “I do. And so do you. You said it yourself. We are for always. Nothing can change that.”

After a few minutes of consideration, Arys kissed my forehead and said, “You’re right. It won’t change us, but it will change you. I just wish it didn’t have to be that way.”

Though we didn’t discuss it often, I knew that Arys carried a lot of guilt. He had blood bonded me almost a year ago, guaranteeing that I would rise as a vampire upon my mortal death. He’d known that it would tip the balance between light and dark that we shared.

“It doesn’t matter. We will still have the light when we need it most. Tomorrow night when we destroy Shya’s chance at greater power. It will be worth it.”

Staying strong was what mattered now. Of course I might not be quite so confident when the liquor wore off.

“So what now? Do we tell Shaz?”

“No. We don’t tell anyone. Not tonight.” I turned to find the glass that had fallen, and the world seemed to turn with me. Somehow I righted myself without doing a head dive. “We go back to the party and have a good time. No, better than that. We have a fucking kick ass time. If it’s my last mortal night on earth, then I want to enjoy it.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

The party was raging when we returned to the yard. Abandoned clothing littered the ground, a sure sign that there were wolves roaming the night. I was tempted to join them, but I knew that if I did I might never come back. So I stayed with Arys who stuck to my side like glue.

Shaz and Coby were having a loud, drunken discussion about cars. Apparently Shaz was trading his in and trying to decide if he wanted a truck or SUV. Kylarai and Jez had gone to run with the others, and Kale had left as he’d come, stealthy and unseen.

Those who remained were doing a great job of polishing off what was left of the booze. I exchanged my glass for a bottle instead. My last night with my favorite human vice called for it.

It was incredibly difficult to keep my thoughts from turning dark and negative. Only when I’d filled my blood with whiskey did the thoughts finally become too muddled to make sense.

We joined Shaz and Coby at the picnic table on the patio, successfully avoiding their questions about Falon by redirecting the conversation. I kicked off my heels, glad to be rid of the torturous things. I groaned and rubbed a foot, vowing to never wear such torture devices again. Too bad. They sure were pretty.