Demon Fire (Angel Fire #3) - Marie Johnston Page 0,2
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“As per our laws, I’ve dumped you somewhere on Earth. A place where you have no friends, no family, no connections. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that as a fallen, you can have no contact with any angel from Numen. You can’t talk to them, and if they talk to you, they risk becoming like you—alone, pathetic, and bleeding in a heap.”
She hadn’t had the energy to look around. Light had pained her eyes, the agony in her back making everything hurt. The cold blunted it. Winger had abandoned her in some winter hell, as if he’d known she used to sit outside and soak up the rays, thankful for each day she had the opportunity to do so.
A sardonic laugh had rasped from her cracked lips after Winger had finished his declaration. Ow. Another part of her body in agony. Another memory that was crystal clear. She’d gnawed her lips raw trying to remain strong as her connection to the only home she’d ever known was sawed away.
Brutality and pain. It was inevitable. She caused it; she reaped it.
“Find something funny?” Winger’s voice had dripped with hate. A male she once used to joke around with had showed her no friendliness—and no mercy.
Wouldn’t he like to know what she found tragically humorous? Wouldn’t the whole realm of Numen like to know? But a stubborn part of her had held out. She should’ve learned her lesson and done whatever she could to protect her home, the place she’d sworn to protect as a warrior. But she’d held back. Letting her realm—her former realm—learn her deep, dark secrets would do her no good.
So she hadn’t answered and he’d left with a disgusted snarl, ascending back to Numen, a home she could never return to. She no longer had the ability, even should she wish to. And she didn’t wish to. Not at all.
Maybe if she weren’t such a shitty liar, she wouldn’t have found herself in this dire situation.
Something crackled. Her senses started firing and the smell of smoke tickled her nose. Her fingers were no longer blissfully numb. They ached, along with the rest of her body, but she wasn’t cold.
That didn’t make sense. She’d been outside in the snow. Now she wasn’t and it wasn’t due to any effort of her own.
She kept her eyes closed as she took in her surroundings, learning as much as she could while playing dead.
Crackling, interspersed with pops. A fire. She kept her breathing steady. The smoky smell was fresh, seeped into the very fibers of her surroundings. She didn’t get to experience a real fire too often. Over the years, she’d traveled and experienced the pleasantness of a hearth fire. But there was no need at home—
Her heart wrenched. Not home.
She took another measured breath, refraining from a deep inhale. Other than the campfire smell, there were hints of pine and soap and not much else.
Where was she?
“You can pretend you’re still sleeping,” a deep voice rumbled, making her jerk, then hiss as pain flared through her back. She winced as her dry lips cracked. “Or you can open your eyes and help us both get some answers.”
His voice, whomever it belonged to, held no hint of humor. As serious as a gravestone, he spoke evenly, but she couldn’t escape the feeling that he was hiding an exorbitant amount of emotion. So much that it was smothering him.
Maybe she was just imprinting her own feelings onto him.
She opened her eyes and blinked. The place wasn’t bright. The only light came from the fire crackling on the other side of the room. The walls of her new shelter were made of large brown logs. One wall was two feet from her and there was no furniture, not even a small end table. Just enough room for someone to walk around the bed and slide in. The owner of the voice had propped her on her side, leaving her back blissfully free of pressure.
The bed itself was nice. Soft and cozy, made more so by the plush blankets piled on top of her. Between the fire and how close the man sounded, she was either in the bedroom of a cabin, or the cabin was one room in its entirety. She suspected the latter.
“Who are you?” Her voice cracked. Her mouth was dry and her tongue woolly. How long had she been out?
“Just a guy living in the middle of nowhere who found an unconscious woman in the middle of nowhere.”