Demon Fire (Angel Fire #3) - Marie Johnston Page 0,43

phone, his back to him. Boone had gleaned enough to figure out they were watching Sandeen to make sure he didn’t communicate with anyone else and that he still possessed Alma. If he stopped, they’d send his host on a flight back to Montana and move locations.

Sandeen opened a box that contained several puzzles. “Ooh. Puzzles. I’ve never done one.” He straightened with a wince and took an Audubon bird puzzle to the table.

“How have you never done a puzzle?” Boone followed him. There was no TV to watch while his ass was planted on the couch.

He tugged at the waistband of his brand-new jeans. They were a little large, but the angels—because fuck it, why not call them that—had guessed his size well. He’d taken Sierra’s box to their room and quietly set it inside the door. She’d finally settled into a deep sleep and he didn’t want to disturb it.

Why was he so damn considerate when it came to her?

“The underworld is not the place to do a puzzle.” Sandeen flipped the top off and dumped out five hundred pieces.

How many pieces did one bird need to be cut into? “That bad?”

Sandeen paused, his less arthritic hand poised over the mess. “It’s a level above Hell, Boone.”

“Right.”

“You say that a lot.” He started flipping pieces over.

Boone did the same. “There’s nothing else to say.”

“Some humans go batshit. Then there’s Jameson’s following. They fucking love it. I don’t know why.”

Since he’d muttered the last part, Boone asked, “Not homesick, then?”

“It’s a level above Hell, Boone.”

Boone sat back and studied Alma’s face. If she was truly possessed and the demon inside was named Sandeen, then he was serious. His voice was serious, his expression grave.

It’s a level above Hell, Boone.

Boone had been through hell. His own personal hell, one of his making. One he was responsible for. “I’ve been through hell on Earth. Worse than that?”

Sandeen sat back, the puzzle forgotten. “You wake up every day and the best thing that can happen to you is getting ignored. If you like something, another demon will destroy it. If you find happiness, another demon will destroy it. If you manage to avoid those first two, then every other demon in the underworld will still try to destroy you.”

“Every one? I thought there were different levels of strength.”

“Sylphs don’t get too close or they get eaten. Some symasters get a little big for their britches and find themselves roasting over a spit. Other archmasters? It’s a life of proving their power.”

“Then how have you survived if you’re not as fearsome as the others?” Sierra and Harlowe both agreed on what Sandeen looked like. Blue eyes, dark hair. Horns.

For fuck’s sake. Horns.

Sandeen tapped a finger against the side of his head. “A little intelligence goes a long way down there. So what’s your story?”

“I found Sierra. Now I’m here.” Demon or not, he wasn’t going to elaborate.

“You must really like her, then.”

He didn’t make sharing his business with others a habit. And since Sandeen had just said that where he came from, the mission was to prove one’s power, he wasn’t going to start today. Because information was power. “Finding out where this shit show ends seemed more exciting than being alone in the mountains for another winter.”

Sandeen’s lips quirked, then he slid his gaze to the base of the stairs. Boone looked over his shoulder. Sierra stopped at the base, hurt glimmering in her eyes.

Shit. Sandeen might not really be a demon, but he was an asshole.

How had Sierra expected him to answer? He might’ve been fighting his attraction since she’d healed and cooked her first pheasant. He might’ve liked her two days ago. How he felt about her today would depend on her state of mind and the secrets she was keeping.

“Did you find the toiletries in the boxes of clothes?” He should’ve turned back to his puzzle, but he’d hurt her feelings.

“Yes.” Her pea-green T-shirt made her look like she’d been fighting morning sickness for years. What an awful color. Despite her pale complexion, the brown leggings she’d put on gave her a petite Robin Hood look. He had a feeling all of the clothing chosen for her would flatter her in the worst of ways. “I’ll shower after I eat. My stomach is . . .”

She put her hand on her belly and dropped it just as fast.

The intuition he’d thought had turned on him years ago came to life. She hadn’t accepted the fact that she was pregnant.

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