Read Online Demon Soul by Christine Ashworth - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christine Ashworth
Tags: Romance
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will become a sadder, messier place without him.
Despair took her over. The spiral on her belly burned, writhed. Tears streamed down her face. She should just kill herself all over again. She'd really messed up there with the vampire. She was worthless, where was her vodka, her pipe? Deep shudders wracked her body as Gabriel laid her down on a big bed.
"Here. Just – stay here."
Rose turned her face into the pillow and listened as Gabriel moved around. She heard a splash of a faucet and then Gabriel was beside her again. He used a wet washcloth to clean the jagged wounds on her arm.
"Damn it. I'm sorry you were hurt. I can't–okay, I've got to put some stuff on there that will make the demon venom seem like water. Take a breath."
She squeezed her eyes shut tight as liquid fire seemed to travel the same path as her wounds. She let out a quick gasp of breath and heard Gabriel swear quietly. "I'll be right back." Abruptly he left the room.
Rose seethed with pain, both from her shoulder and in her heart. A tear trickled down her cheek. As if she was worth his time. As if.
"Rose?"
She started, wiped her eyes. "It still hurts."
"I know. I'm almost done here." With a gentle hand, he smoothed a cooling cream deep into the long scratches. "There. Now just some gauze, and frozen peas." He wrapped her arm gently and laid the cold bag against her wound. "To cool the burn," he said, and sat back on his haunches and looked at her. "You want to tell me what all that was about?"
Rose turned her head away from him, shame heating her cheeks. "All what?"
"You know Satine." His voice was flat, daring her to contradict him.
"She's right. I can't win. You were right not to trust me. I'm an addict," she whispered, and her eyes filled again.
"Bullshit. I've smelled you. You're not an addict, not anymore. You're clean, pure."
"I'm not. I'm not! I'm nothing, a nuisance, a burden." Rose trembled.
Gabriel moved, found a knitted blanket, and wrapped it around Rose. He sat next to her. "Tell me." He reached for her hand and held it.
"My mother was an alcoholic and a junkie and a whore, and we rarely lived in the same place more than a few months at a time. Crayons, chalk, and paints kept me sane. I could lose myself in the pictures I created.” Memories flooded back, the good and the bad. Rose cleared her tight throat. “When she died, I was only sixteen. I became her in some weird way. The only difference between us is I never got paid money for sex." She faced Gabriel, but saw no judgment there, only a waiting. She continued, his hand her lifeline.
"Sara - Satine and I are cousins. You were right about the family connection. After mom died, I worked, stayed with a friend's family. Got raped by my boss so I quit, and then my life fell apart. Like there was a part of me missing. I stole from the people who'd taken me in. They threw me out, so I got a new job. I hooked up with a co-worker who was both married and hooked on drugs. I took drugs to make the ugliness of my life just go away."
She stared over Gabriel's head. "As long as I never sobered up I was fine. I lost weight. Lost strength. Then I left my lover, tried to get clean. A week went by, then two. Then a month, and I was still clean. So I went by his place to prove something to myself – stupid. I got sucked back in, overdosed on my lover's lawn just as she drove up with his kids." Gabriel made a sound and she looked toward him, but he just shook his head, so she continued.
"The paramedics came and revived me on the lawn. Somebody gave me something that accidentally put me into a coma. And I had that experience in Purgatory that I already told you about. Like I said, now it's like the hole inside me is filled. But I was a fool to think it could last." Her eyes squeezed shut against his judgment.
"Look at me."
Rose shook her head. "Don't pretend this doesn't bother you. It has to bother you. I am no saint, Gabriel." She moved the bag of peas down a little bit. Finally
Despair took her over. The spiral on her belly burned, writhed. Tears streamed down her face. She should just kill herself all over again. She'd really messed up there with the vampire. She was worthless, where was her vodka, her pipe? Deep shudders wracked her body as Gabriel laid her down on a big bed.
"Here. Just – stay here."
Rose turned her face into the pillow and listened as Gabriel moved around. She heard a splash of a faucet and then Gabriel was beside her again. He used a wet washcloth to clean the jagged wounds on her arm.
"Damn it. I'm sorry you were hurt. I can't–okay, I've got to put some stuff on there that will make the demon venom seem like water. Take a breath."
She squeezed her eyes shut tight as liquid fire seemed to travel the same path as her wounds. She let out a quick gasp of breath and heard Gabriel swear quietly. "I'll be right back." Abruptly he left the room.
Rose seethed with pain, both from her shoulder and in her heart. A tear trickled down her cheek. As if she was worth his time. As if.
"Rose?"
She started, wiped her eyes. "It still hurts."
"I know. I'm almost done here." With a gentle hand, he smoothed a cooling cream deep into the long scratches. "There. Now just some gauze, and frozen peas." He wrapped her arm gently and laid the cold bag against her wound. "To cool the burn," he said, and sat back on his haunches and looked at her. "You want to tell me what all that was about?"
Rose turned her head away from him, shame heating her cheeks. "All what?"
"You know Satine." His voice was flat, daring her to contradict him.
"She's right. I can't win. You were right not to trust me. I'm an addict," she whispered, and her eyes filled again.
"Bullshit. I've smelled you. You're not an addict, not anymore. You're clean, pure."
"I'm not. I'm not! I'm nothing, a nuisance, a burden." Rose trembled.
Gabriel moved, found a knitted blanket, and wrapped it around Rose. He sat next to her. "Tell me." He reached for her hand and held it.
"My mother was an alcoholic and a junkie and a whore, and we rarely lived in the same place more than a few months at a time. Crayons, chalk, and paints kept me sane. I could lose myself in the pictures I created.” Memories flooded back, the good and the bad. Rose cleared her tight throat. “When she died, I was only sixteen. I became her in some weird way. The only difference between us is I never got paid money for sex." She faced Gabriel, but saw no judgment there, only a waiting. She continued, his hand her lifeline.
"Sara - Satine and I are cousins. You were right about the family connection. After mom died, I worked, stayed with a friend's family. Got raped by my boss so I quit, and then my life fell apart. Like there was a part of me missing. I stole from the people who'd taken me in. They threw me out, so I got a new job. I hooked up with a co-worker who was both married and hooked on drugs. I took drugs to make the ugliness of my life just go away."
She stared over Gabriel's head. "As long as I never sobered up I was fine. I lost weight. Lost strength. Then I left my lover, tried to get clean. A week went by, then two. Then a month, and I was still clean. So I went by his place to prove something to myself – stupid. I got sucked back in, overdosed on my lover's lawn just as she drove up with his kids." Gabriel made a sound and she looked toward him, but he just shook his head, so she continued.
"The paramedics came and revived me on the lawn. Somebody gave me something that accidentally put me into a coma. And I had that experience in Purgatory that I already told you about. Like I said, now it's like the hole inside me is filled. But I was a fool to think it could last." Her eyes squeezed shut against his judgment.
"Look at me."
Rose shook her head. "Don't pretend this doesn't bother you. It has to bother you. I am no saint, Gabriel." She moved the bag of peas down a little bit. Finally
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