Demon Fire (Angel Fire #3) - Marie Johnston Page 0,31
it so plainly, it was like he actually believed it.
His steady stare made her think about what had happened. She’d felt him. She’d heard him. Not the host. Him. “That’s not possible.”
“It was possible with Jameson’s blood. It should be possible with yours.”
“I’m not Jameson. What’s your name?” He lifted a brow and she rolled her eyes. “What happened to the ‘we’re in this together’ bullshit?”
“Such language for an angel.”
“Such odd behavior for a demon.”
His shoulders slumped. He wasn’t a normal demon and he knew it. He might be wicked, but he wasn’t evil. What must his life be like?
She had no place in her for sympathy for a demon. Her empathy had no place either.
She got another paper towel and wrapped it around her hand. She wasn’t a beacon of goodness like the other angels she’d grown up with. But then she knew why— Her head snapped up and she gasped.
He caught her gaze. “What?”
“Nothing.” Did he even know? She’d keep it to herself. She’d have to. “Boone’s going to come looking for me. Sorry I couldn’t help you.”
His expression said Are you kidding me? “I think you still can. I’m missing something.”
“You say it’s happened before?”
He ignored her and looked around the bathroom as if it were a puzzle and the answer was hidden inside. His gaze dropped to the trash and his scowl deepened.
Shit. She’d hid everything as best she could but there were only so many discarded paper towels. She reached around him to push everything down, but he shrugged her off. The effects of whatever her blood did lingered. The old lady never would’ve been able to stop her.
“Well, well, well.” He met her gaze, his lips tipped at an odd angle. “Congratulations are in order.”
“Fuck you.”
He put his hand on his heart. “I’m hurt.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Is that the nervous dad out there?”
She couldn’t stop the panic racing across her expression. The incorrect observation was as unexpected as her regret that someone as normal and human as Boone couldn’t be the father, that she hadn’t succumbed to his charm instead.
The demon stood straighter, making his host’s hip pop. “What’s this now? He’s not the father?”
“It’s none of your business.”
The demon’s scrutiny unnerved her. He looked at her as if she were transparent and heartbreakingly obvious. She might be. If she had been quality warrior material, she wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.
“If it’s not the human’s, and it happened before you fell, what are the angels going to do when they find out?” He spoke like he marveled over the issue.
“They are going to do nothing. I’m no longer Numen and I’ve been fallen for months.” She wasn’t much farther along than that. “I’m dead to them, and other fallen have children.”
“Indeed?”
Shit, she’d said too much. This demon’s deceptively casual attitude had lured her into a comfort she shouldn’t feel. He wasn’t a friend. He was more likely an enemy, a cunning one. “I’m dead to them. My kid, my business.”
“The father might think differently.”
“The father . . . lost his . . . right to have a say.” Smooth, Sierra. Where’s that deception you used earlier when you tricked your entire team?
“I’d like to hear the story,” he mused.
“You’re not going to.” She had to leave. If what this demon said was true, others were after her. What would they do when they found out she was pregnant?
Terror mounted inside of her like a billowing storm bearing down on this tiny town. Aside from not being planned, this was a part of her . . . but also a part of him. Jameson had wanted revenge on an entire realm of angels. He’d killed innocents. That was the baby’s father.
Not exactly a good start in life.
“You don’t have to tell me a thing, Sierra. You don’t even have to believe me. But they’re coming for you, and they either won’t care about your baby or they’ll care. A lot.”
She ground her teeth together. A fallen’s baby might not garner much attention otherwise. But this was Jameson’s baby. And if her blood was important, whoever was after her might question how useful the blood of her child could be. If they ever learned the baby was Jameson’s . . .
Jameson should’ve been a worthless fallen like her. Instead he’d been driven by resentment, hubris, and greed. He’d prospered. Rational wasn’t a trait when it came to those dealing with Jameson, those who’d followed him. Given that