Read Online Charm City (The Demon Whisperer Book 1) by Ash Krafton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ash Krafton
Ads: Link
behind his pointed finger.
"You banished that demon with hellfire."
Chiara looked away and shrugged away from him. What could she say, besides yes, I did .
"And not just any old demon, now, was it? That was a minion of Bal—" He broke off, unable to say it. "He serves a general. Of Hell. And you used hellfire on him. Of all the—"
He was sputtering mad. "You don't just get to throw that stuff around. I think there's a story you mean to tell me."
"Is that what you want?" She spread her hands, suspecting nothing she could say would make him feel any better. "A story? I've got a universe full of them."
"You're sassy, sweetheart, but it's not enough to get you out of this. What are you? Demon?"
Her lips curled in disdain. "As if. If I were demon, don't you think your angel buddy would have drawn on me?"
"Backstory, then. " Simon regarded her shrewdly and slowly nodded his head. "And I will have it. I just don't know what I want you to tell me first. Do I ask about how you came to wield hellfire? Or do I go right to the heart of what's bugging me and ask why do you know that demon?"
She rubbed her brows. Why did this man have to be so damnably curious? It had been ages since she even tried to connect with another human being. He was special. He was...open-minded. But no one could be that accepting. Not considering the truths she held.
Not even the man who stared at her now, the man with pockets full of charms and secrets and an unforgiveable past. She saw the resolve in his eyes, the demand for answers.
"Okay, you want to know?" She swallowed hard. "First, swear your silence."
Simon rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. I solemnly swear—"
Flippant man. Have mortal men truly lost respect for an oath? He needed to be encouraged to take this seriously.
She lowered her barriers, the ones that hid her divinity from humans, and allowed her power to physically manifest. Her eyesight dimmed as the power surged, causing her eyes to glow.
"Not words, Simon." She bared her teeth, her voice rumbling into a growl. The power was a thing of its own, a force that disdained mortal control. "Swear. With your soul."
His eyes grew wide and he backed up a step. Was he afraid? Would he run? Her resolution stumbled. Why did it bother her that he might? Her barriers sulked back up, as if she were ashamed for him to see her, as if she stood bare before his scrutiny.
He didn't run. He just stared at her, hard, and set his jaw.
For a moment she thought he'd reach for one of his innumerable charms, the pocketful of magic he carried around like so much change.
But he surprised her.
He merely nodded. "I give you my solemn word."
She felt the words when he spoke them. He hadn't even reached for an amulet. His oath had bourn a solid conviction and a silent trace of magic enforcing it.
Hmm. Just shy of a blood oath. She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Suddenly, he had new value, most deserving of a reassessment.
"I have a lofty heritage," she said.
"I'm listening."
"I'm...Enochian."
That made his eyebrows shoot up. He rocked back on his heels and shoved his hand deep into his trouser pockets. "Well. You now have my full and riveted attention. The Enochians were the offspring of angels and humans. But they don't wield hellfire."
"True. But only my mother was Enochian. My father..."
"Ah." Long silence. "The darkness you left behind when you riffled through my brain."
Yes. The darkness she left behind. As much as she tried to distance herself from it, that particular aspect of herself wasn't something she could simply turn off.
"I assumed he was a dark mage, which would give you that oily stain." He chewed the side of his thumb.
Oily stain. It made her feel...soiled. Wounded, she lowered her eyes. "If that's what you want to call it."
"But he isn't a mage, is he? That darkness comes from demonic influence. No wonder you said I know him. I'm a demonologist." He spit to the side. "Of course I would. So. A half-demon
"You banished that demon with hellfire."
Chiara looked away and shrugged away from him. What could she say, besides yes, I did .
"And not just any old demon, now, was it? That was a minion of Bal—" He broke off, unable to say it. "He serves a general. Of Hell. And you used hellfire on him. Of all the—"
He was sputtering mad. "You don't just get to throw that stuff around. I think there's a story you mean to tell me."
"Is that what you want?" She spread her hands, suspecting nothing she could say would make him feel any better. "A story? I've got a universe full of them."
"You're sassy, sweetheart, but it's not enough to get you out of this. What are you? Demon?"
Her lips curled in disdain. "As if. If I were demon, don't you think your angel buddy would have drawn on me?"
"Backstory, then. " Simon regarded her shrewdly and slowly nodded his head. "And I will have it. I just don't know what I want you to tell me first. Do I ask about how you came to wield hellfire? Or do I go right to the heart of what's bugging me and ask why do you know that demon?"
She rubbed her brows. Why did this man have to be so damnably curious? It had been ages since she even tried to connect with another human being. He was special. He was...open-minded. But no one could be that accepting. Not considering the truths she held.
Not even the man who stared at her now, the man with pockets full of charms and secrets and an unforgiveable past. She saw the resolve in his eyes, the demand for answers.
"Okay, you want to know?" She swallowed hard. "First, swear your silence."
Simon rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. I solemnly swear—"
Flippant man. Have mortal men truly lost respect for an oath? He needed to be encouraged to take this seriously.
She lowered her barriers, the ones that hid her divinity from humans, and allowed her power to physically manifest. Her eyesight dimmed as the power surged, causing her eyes to glow.
"Not words, Simon." She bared her teeth, her voice rumbling into a growl. The power was a thing of its own, a force that disdained mortal control. "Swear. With your soul."
His eyes grew wide and he backed up a step. Was he afraid? Would he run? Her resolution stumbled. Why did it bother her that he might? Her barriers sulked back up, as if she were ashamed for him to see her, as if she stood bare before his scrutiny.
He didn't run. He just stared at her, hard, and set his jaw.
For a moment she thought he'd reach for one of his innumerable charms, the pocketful of magic he carried around like so much change.
But he surprised her.
He merely nodded. "I give you my solemn word."
She felt the words when he spoke them. He hadn't even reached for an amulet. His oath had bourn a solid conviction and a silent trace of magic enforcing it.
Hmm. Just shy of a blood oath. She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Suddenly, he had new value, most deserving of a reassessment.
"I have a lofty heritage," she said.
"I'm listening."
"I'm...Enochian."
That made his eyebrows shoot up. He rocked back on his heels and shoved his hand deep into his trouser pockets. "Well. You now have my full and riveted attention. The Enochians were the offspring of angels and humans. But they don't wield hellfire."
"True. But only my mother was Enochian. My father..."
"Ah." Long silence. "The darkness you left behind when you riffled through my brain."
Yes. The darkness she left behind. As much as she tried to distance herself from it, that particular aspect of herself wasn't something she could simply turn off.
"I assumed he was a dark mage, which would give you that oily stain." He chewed the side of his thumb.
Oily stain. It made her feel...soiled. Wounded, she lowered her eyes. "If that's what you want to call it."
"But he isn't a mage, is he? That darkness comes from demonic influence. No wonder you said I know him. I'm a demonologist." He spit to the side. "Of course I would. So. A half-demon
Similar Books
