Demon Fire (Angel Fire #3) - Marie Johnston Page 0,33
scooted his butt around, having sunk into the recliner and pointed a gnarled finger at the computer as soon as they’d arrived. “That human of yours was madder than hell.”
Boone hadn’t said much.
Sierra had spewed some bullshit story about Alma being an old aunt who had tracked her down and wanted to help, and given “the situation,” Sierra had better go.
Boone’s direct gaze made it clear he hadn’t bought any of it. But he’d let her go.
They hadn’t grown so close in the two months since she’d been with him, but he’d opened up to her. And she’d done nothing but keep secrets and put him at risk.
Go, me.
“Okay, the message has been sent. You’d better pack.” She wasn’t staying in Green Valley, Montana, one more minute than she had to. She didn’t have to believe the demon to know that trouble was on its way. People had gotten hurt because of her and the lies she lived under.
A grunt left the host as he scooted to the edge of her chair. “These knees.”
“Remember her meds.”
Rheumy eyes pegged her. “The purse is full of meds. The bathroom cabinet is full of meds. I’m not going to forget the fucking meds.”
Sierra watched the demon struggle to rise in his older host. “Then why didn’t you possess a younger human?” Demons weren’t picky. They took what they could get, but her question was a way to find out what she could about this one.
“Alma likes me.”
“What now?” Jameson had built an empire around humans who wanted to serve the underworld and help them. Had his sickness spread this far?
“Don’t get your angelic panties in a twist. Alma’s a good soul. But she’s lonely and in constant pain. I’m a good distraction.”
And he likely felt the brunt of that pain, muffling it for Alma’s consciousness. “She’s not fighting you?”
“It might surprise you that I’ve done nothing to make her fight me.”
“You’re possessing her.”
“Everyone needs a break.”
Exasperating demon. How could he be what he was but speak fondly of his host? Demons were selfish. Hosts were a means to an end.
Yet she couldn’t escape the sense of kinship she had with him. He wasn’t a normal demon. He thought out his actions, for one. A cunning demon was the most dangerous, but he wasn’t needlessly cruel. She didn’t trust him, but he was different and that was enough to take notice.
He hobbled past her on his way to the bedroom. “Where are we going, fallen?”
“Far from here.” She hadn’t forgotten that this demon wanted her blood too. But she needed answers and he was the best route for her.
“I don’t know how far Alma’s car will make it.”
“We can procure another one.”
He turned, delight gleaming in his host’s eyes. “Do you plan to jack a car? Is that the definition of how the mighty have fallen?”
“Fuck off, demon.”
“I can’t. Andy has a fan club in Daemon. I can’t go home until I kill them all.” As he disappeared in the bedroom, she caught his muttered, “And then I don’t ever want to go back again.”
Was he tricking her?
A message popped up that the send was a success. Now she waited. Should she go into the bedroom and see if any of Alma’s clothing fit? She was back to having nothing and she didn’t want to flee town on the dime of a human living off social security.
Her mind went back to the picture. There’d been no kids, but Alma had found someone to spend her life with. Sierra wouldn’t ever find anyone to spend her life with. She’d never planned to. Someone like her didn’t get a happily ever after with a mate. Others of her kind could sync their life with another’s, or wait until they got matched to a sync mate. But she’d been a warrior, and the chances were supposed to have been better that she’d mate. Mates could heal, and many warriors got theirs when they’d been severely injured.
But Sierra wasn’t like the others. She’d assumed that whatever ethereal force assigned mates would skip over her, leave her unique makeup out of the Numen gene pool.
Somehow, she was procreating anyway.
Awareness prickled along her spine. She stared at the computer screen but concentrated on her other senses. Was someone watching her? Alma’s shades were drawn. She didn’t know if the human normally kept her house this dark, but the demon did.
Was someone approaching the doors? Did Alma get visitors? How did the demon handle those?