The Wicked Kiss (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #2)

Paintings hung along the way, but otherwise, the halls were dark and bare. Shawn turned to the right, and I felt my skin begin to crawl.

I followed him down the hall, noting the numbers on the doors. On this side, they were odd, going one, three, five and so on. I assumed the even numbers were the opposite way. Shawn stopped suddenly between doors, his voice low as he whispered.

“Number thirteen is Kale’s. I’ll be in seventeen. Remember, fifteen minutes.” Before I could reply, he had continued down the hall and disappeared into the dark.

The door closest to me was number seven, so I had a few more to go. As I drew closer to Kale’s room, I began to get increasingly anxious. I was a fit of nerves when I stood outside, staring at the number on the door. There was a strange energy in the hall that bit at my skin like angry red ants.

The hallway was so silent that I imagined each room to be soundproof. Either that, or there was something going on in these rooms that I did not want to know about.

I steeled my nerves, knowing that it was now or never. I raised my hand to knock but never even came close to landing the motion before the door jerked open, revealing a pale young woman with red hair, clad in a silky nightgown. Her neck was an assortment of red, swollen bite marks.

I stared at her in shock, and my words died before I’d given voice to them.

Chapter Two

I gaped openly at her, my tongue tied as I tried to spit some words out. She eyed me with an obvious disdain, and I resisted my sudden urge to grab her by the throat.

“What do you want?” she asked with contempt heavy in both her tone and expression.

Before I could answer, Kale’s voice rang out from behind her. “I told you to let her in.” The red head glared at me, but it was a pathetic attempt. I’d seen worse.

Despite the fact that she didn’t want to, she moved back to allow me entrance. I stepped into the room, afraid of what I would see. The room was dark, lit only by two matching candles in a fancy iron candelabrum that sat on the small night table near the bed. The air was thick with an aggressive energy that lingered almost painfully.

The carpet was more of the same from the hall. Everything was laid out just like a hotel room would be. A table with two chairs stood in one corner, a bathroom and a bureau adorned with alcohol, bottled water and small snack items completed the room. I didn’t like it one bit.

“Kale?” I couldn’t hide the worry in my tone. I cast a glance around while his donor continued to give me a death glare. I really wanted to slap her. “We need to have a little chat, buddy.”

Kale was lying in the bed amid black, satin sheets and a furry, zebra print comforter.

I had never seen him quite like this, and it scared me. He appeared to be nude, the sheets shoved down to his waist. His bare chest was firm, well built.

I didn’t like the look he wore. His different-colored eyes bore the look of a junkie soaring as high as he could get. He’d been born with heterochromia iridium, a gene condition that results in mismatched eyes. One was deep brown while the other was a pale blue. The effect was magnificent but, at the moment, a little eerie.

“Alexa, come in. Close the door behind you.” At his sudden gesture, the door closed behind me on its own before I'd even moved. This was not quite going how I’d imagined.

The energy soaked atmosphere picked at my flesh.

I stared at the vampire in the bed, more than aware that I was dealing with a side of Kale that was not the usual for me. I completely ignored the red-haired woman standing beside me, staring like she knew whom she was dealing with. Of course, being a human, she had no idea of what I was.

“Kylarai is really worried. You need to leave here … now.” I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

My best glare was lost on him. The smile that adorned his handsome face reminded me of every vampire I’ve tangled with right before he goes for the bite. It was almost as evil as it was predatory, and it did not look right on Kale. It was nerve wracking, and I found myself on the defensive.

“Kylarai worries about everything,” he said, waving a hand as if to draw me closer. I didn’t budge from where I stood near the door. “I’m sure I haven’t been here that long.”

“If you don’t know how long you’ve been here, then that's too long. Come on, I’m taking you home.” I had to resist the urge to cover my nose. The room reeked of sweat and blood, among other things.

Kale sighed and ran a hand through his short, dark brown hair. It was just a few shades lighter than black and messy, like it hadn’t been washed or combed in days. He looked away from me, down at the zebra blanket in his lap. When he looked up again, I saw a semblance of the Kale I knew behind his eyes.