Dark Destiny (Dark Sentinel #1) - Lexxie Couper Page 0,33

nothing. “Umm?” Blood still trickled over his sculpted body, tiny rivulets that reminded her with harsh reality he’d just fought and beaten a nikor.

“I heard you,” she blurted out. Her answer made her flush and she ground her teeth, frustrated and embarrassed. Damn it, once again, he was making her flush like a schoolgirl.

“You what?” Ven snarled.

“You heard me what?” Patrick asked, still calm. How did he do that? How did he stay so…chill?

She flicked a look at Ven. “Calm your farm, Fang Face.”

He bared his teeth.

With a steadying breath, she turned back to Patrick. “I heard you. In trouble. In my…head.” Her cheeks grew hotter. She’d almost said soul, but that couldn’t be. If her soul was attuned to his human one she really was in trouble. “I heard you so I came.”

“Why?”

“A very good question, brother,” Ven growled. “Especially since she’d just spent a considerable amount of effort trying to keep me where I was.”

Fred blinked, swinging back to face him. “What?” Did he really think she’d been trying to distract him while an aqueous demon attacked his brother? “Wait just a damn minute, Steven. I’m not the bad guy here, okay?” She jabbed a finger at him. “You shouldn’t be standing out in the sun without turning into a char-grilled drumstick, extra crispy, and you—” she turned her scowl on Patrick, wishing to the Deities her heart would stop squeezing whenever she looked at him, “—just pulverized a nikor, a third-order sub-demon, to dust with no weapon I can see or ascertain.” She crossed her arms across her chest, giving them both a long glare. “So don’t be making out I’m the only one here with answers to cough up.”

The same puzzled frown pulled at Patrick and Ven’s foreheads, and Fred would have burst out laughing at the almost comical sight if she wasn’t so pissed off. With them and her stupid, stupid libido and stupid, stupid heart. Usually her emotions and sex drive were in perfect sync. It had never been otherwise, despite an eon of lovers, both demon and human. But boyo, did she want Steven on a carnal level. And she wanted Patrick on a—

Nope. Stop it. You don’t need this. Not with your tailbone itching so goddamn violently.

“Both of you have some explaining to do,” she declared, desperate to regain the upper hand. She was Death for Pete’s sake. They should be cowering at her feet, not arguing with her. “Now.”

Patrick’s jaw bunched.

Ven’s did the same. “As much as I hate to say this, the Reaper’s got a point, brother. How did you destroy that…nik…nike…”

“Nikor,” she supplied.

“How did you destroy that sand demon?” he asked, refusing her help. Stubborn male. His earlier concern returned to his eyes as he studied Patrick. “I didn’t see you hit it with anything. Not your fists, or a sword or even a bloody big broom and yet the ugly bastard’s no more.”

“How come you haven’t turned to a pile of dust, Steven?” Patrick shot back, clearly not interested in answering. “And what do you mean, she’d just spent a considerable amount of effort trying to keep you where you were?” He narrowed his eyes. “Where were you exactly, and what kind of effort?”

Fred flicked her gaze from one brother to the other. Uh oh, she didn’t like where this was going. “Listen.” She stepped between them, holding her arms out to the side. “Far be it for me to interfere with a family squabble, but the beach at daybreak is not the place to discuss this. I’ve Claimed more than one soul jogging along the sand at this time of day, I know how busy this place is going to get any moment now, and quite frankly, we’re already starting to draw a crowd.”

She let her gaze slide to the few early-morning risers walking or jogging past them, their expressions curious, almost troubled. Uncomfortable. They’d only be seeing two men arguing—she was not visible to anyone except Ven and Patrick—but it was enough to make her edgy. There was something much larger than she first thought going on here, something that made the battle of Jericho seem like a schoolyard tiff, and for some reason she currently felt like a sitting duck. As if she was being played.

Someone had sent a nikor after Patrick. And there were only a few entities capable of doing so. Four, in fact. And she sure as shit knew she hadn’t sent it.

Pestilence?

She curled her fists at her side.

Fucking Pestilence. Of course

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024