Seduce the Darkness (Alien Huntress 4)

Finally, though, he'd caved and tried to force Nolan to stay in that alley, unmoving, compliant, because, unlike Devyn's, Dallas's ability wasn't a manipulation of energy but an exertion of will. And look what that had gotten him. Failure. That particular power had remained dormant, Nolan had continued to move, and Dallas had had a vision of himself, as he was now, in bed with a woman he hadn't seen in months. How?

Kyrin had offered to teach and train him, but Dallas couldn't bring himself to agree. The more time he spent with the Arcadian, the more he was reminded that his will was not his own. That he was really just a slave to another.

What am I going to do? He needed to decide, one way or another: welcome all of his abilities completely or suppress them, which Kyrin had said he could do if he ignored all three abilities long enough. Either way, he needed to decide now.

For the past few hours, another vision had been knocking on his brain, demanding entrance. He'd been fighting it, but fighting brought crack-your-skull-against-the-wall headaches. So ... embrace all? Or suppress?

Knowing the future brought both triumph and failure. Last time he'd almost killed his friend Jaxon trying to prevent a vision from coming true. But if he knew what was going to happen, he could possibly save a life one day.

Damn it. There were good arguments for both decisions.

He needed to do something. Well, you can't call an old girlfriend to come over and distract you. Because of what he'd seen in that alley, he'd already done that.

After griping him out for not calling in forever, she'd come over and they'd played naughty AIRagent and dirty otherworlder. He'd acted like the dirty otherworlder, and she'd had no idea how perfectly the role fit him now. Every day he lost a little more of his humanity.

Now she was asleep in his bedroom. He should have sent her home after the sex, but he hadn't wanted to be alone. How pathetic.

As he continued to clean, Dallas began sweating, panting, unable to catch his breath. His ribs soon felt as if they were comprised of glass and were cutting into his chest cavity. His temples ached unbearably. Just suck it up. He swiped up an empty sandwich wrapper, an image of—no. No! He shoved the image away with a mental hand, not booting it out of his brain but keeping it locked inside a box. He hadn't made a decision yet.

The action caused a sharp, agonizing pain to tear through him, and he dropped to his knees. He gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching so tightly that the joints threatened to snap out of place. Nausea rolled through his stomach. Just suppress already. Knowing the future changes the future, and not always for the better.

What if someone I love is about to be hurt?

He lumbered to his feet as the vision tried to claw its way free. He shook his head violently, and still another pain slashed through him, doubling him over. A moan slipped from him. Too much. It was too much. If he kept fighting, undecided, he was going to have an aneurism.

Not knowing what else to do, Dallas peeked through a crack in that box. The pain eased slightly. There were two visions, he realized, each vying for entrance. One, he'd ignored for hours. The other was brand-new. No wonder the knocking had intensified.

Don't do it. Don't let them in. Ignorance is bliss, and you won't be able to mess with the future. It's better to know. And this way, you can keep your super speed.

The two desires warred inside him until he was shaking, almost foaming at the mouth. Every nerve ending in his body was sharpening, desperate to cut through him and escape the pain.

Don't do it. You almost killed Jaxon, remember?

Do it, do it, do it. You're wiser now. You won't hurt anyone. How many times do you have to be reminded that you could save more lives—

With a roar, he wrenched open the box. The first vision flew into his mind, colors taking shape, images forming. There was Devyn, standing in an abandoned alleyway, soaked in blood. It dripped from him—draining his life? In front of him was the vampire, Bride. She, too, was covered in blood. There were smudges around her mouth, as if she'd recently fed and had tried to wipe herself clean.

If that bitch had drank from Devyn ... Dallas's hands fisted. But guilt joined ranks with his anger, and he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to tamp down both emotions. If I'd allowed the vision inside earlier, would I have been able to stop this? Was Devyn now hurt? Dead? They'd known there was a chance Bride would erupt when she learned that Devyn had "captured" Macy, aka Aleaha, but neither of them had taken it seriously. Devyn could lock the woman in place. Besides that, females simply didn't attack Devyn. Not with malicious intentions, anyway.

Maybe Bride had learned how to defend herself against Devyn's ability, as Nolan had done. In fact, Nolan could have told her what to do. Snarling, Dallas punched the wall, leaving a hole.

Devyn's alive. He's on his way here. You know that. The panic gradually receded, and Dallas watched inside his mind as Devyn reached out and tucked a lock of Bride's dark hair behind her ear. An action of affection. Bride nibbled on her bottom lip, her fangs sharp, and peered down at the ground, shy but intrigued. Dallas relaxed a little more. Whatever had happened between the pair had been consensual and perhaps nonviolent, despite the blood. But damn, he was going to have to talk to his friend about his bed partners.

Bride turned on her heel and marched away, disappearing into the shadows. Devyn was smiling that wicked, satisfied smile of his.

Not such a bad vision, after all, Dallas thought, shoulders slouching in relief. That image faded, making way for the second. Once again colors began to take shape. Moments later, the pier came into view. A metal bridge that stretched over what little water remained, inching its way to shore.

There was Devyn, a knife in his heart, his body prone, motionless, his eyes closed, blood all around him. Bride stood off to the side, a group of men flanking her. They were holding her in place as she cried and screamed and fought for freedom.

Every muscle in Dallas's body tightened. Devyn planned to tell Bride to meet him at the pier, but he didn't plan to actually go. Had his friend changed his mind?

Dallas shifted his attention, scanning the entire area. There was no sign of himself, Breean, or Macy. He then focused on the men holding Bride, memorizing their features, their clothing.

"—on, my man." A warm hand patted his cheek. "Wake up for me. Your visions have never taken this long before. What's going on? You know I hate mysteries."

Everything winked out of focus, and Dallas almost roared. He clawed at his mind, at the dark box, desperate to learn everything he could, but nothing reappeared in the first and the second was now empty.

Okay. Fine. Dallas would write down everything he remembered about the vision, and he would reason it out, share the details with the players involved, and then do whatever was necessary to stop it from happening. He wouldn't make the same mistake as last time. He wouldn't assume he knew what had brought about the events or who had caused Devyn's... death.