Read Online Demon's Embrace by V. J. Devereaux - Free Book Online
Authors: V. J. Devereaux
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Bear, of Pegasus, the north star still pointed north.
Ash pulled around to the back of the building in case their enemy still searched for them. The ancient dusk to dawn light in front, dimmed by the passage of time and the grime of exhaust, was still alight. It cast the rear of the building into deep darkness and he drove them into the thicker shadows there.
The parking lot was empty, occupied only by the great white bulk of a tank of natural gas to one side. It rose like a whale out of the darkness, slightly rusted with age, the blotches of rust like barnacles on its sides. Otherwise there was just the broad expanse of black tarmac, the lines that marked the spaces faded by time and light.
“It should be safe enough here,” Ash said, looking around as he helped Miri from the bike. He looked at her worriedly. “Are you all right?”
For all her brave words, she was still a college professor, an academic. The most of this kind of excitement she’d ever faced had likely been in movies and books. Reality was a bit different. Still, she’d held up remarkably well.
Miri looked up, clearly grateful for his steadying hand as he helped her off the bike.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, softly.
It took only a kick of Ash’s booted foot against the door to get them into one of the inner courtyard rooms on the second floor at the back of the small complex.
Looking around, the darkness no impediment to his enhanced sight, Ash nodded. “At least we won’t have to sleep as rough.”
While he’d slept out beneath the open sky many times in his long life and enjoyed it, it was just that little bit too cold, when there was no need to suffer he wouldn’t. Nor would Miri if he could help it.
And he needed the sleep to restore himself.
The room was musty, dark and dank from being closed up in the shadow of the great towering pines native to this area but a little magic took care of that. It would do well enough. He had just enough magic remaining for what he needed.
With a gesture, he conjured a few candles, scattered them around the room. A fire spell lit them.
Another spell banished any vermin that might have taken up homes in the carpet.
Lastly, he summoned some of the bedding from his old quarters on the ethereal plane, let it settle over the rusting bed frame that remained here so they would be suitably comfortable.
He conjured up some food, enough to give him some sustenance. At least they wouldn’t starve.
Looking around, Miri shook her head in astonishment. Candlelight lit the room warmly, softly.
The fear had worn off but she felt jittery and unnerved by the violence. Until now.
Magic. She’d felt it. The room had been nothing but shadows and darker shadows, Ash’s body sensed more than seen, the warmth of it a beacon beside her. Then, suddenly, there was light.
While she understood the concept from her vision of him and from what she’d seen of the ethereal planes, she’d never seen such profligate use of it.
The mattress overhung the full size bed frame by inches on each side and the sheets, judging by the rich golden sheen of them, were silk. A light quilted covering in a deep scarlet satin lay overtop of it. The candleholders were gold filigree.
A platter of meat appeared on the sole table, along with a thick round of bread, olives, cheese, fresh vegetables and a bottle of wine.
Miri just shook her head in wonder, turning to look at Ash.
In the dim light his stoic expression showed nothing but there was pain in him, it was evident in the way he stood. Blood had trickled from a wound in his arm and another in his thigh, staining his jeans. Small cuts and scratches were scattered over his arms. Those, at least, had stopped bleeding.
Both breath and heart caught as the bond between them echoed his hurt.
“Ash,” she gasped, pained.
Stepping closer, she could see the wound that had passed through one biceps. Half-healed, it had reopened under the twists and turns they had taken. It had to hurt
Ash pulled around to the back of the building in case their enemy still searched for them. The ancient dusk to dawn light in front, dimmed by the passage of time and the grime of exhaust, was still alight. It cast the rear of the building into deep darkness and he drove them into the thicker shadows there.
The parking lot was empty, occupied only by the great white bulk of a tank of natural gas to one side. It rose like a whale out of the darkness, slightly rusted with age, the blotches of rust like barnacles on its sides. Otherwise there was just the broad expanse of black tarmac, the lines that marked the spaces faded by time and light.
“It should be safe enough here,” Ash said, looking around as he helped Miri from the bike. He looked at her worriedly. “Are you all right?”
For all her brave words, she was still a college professor, an academic. The most of this kind of excitement she’d ever faced had likely been in movies and books. Reality was a bit different. Still, she’d held up remarkably well.
Miri looked up, clearly grateful for his steadying hand as he helped her off the bike.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, softly.
It took only a kick of Ash’s booted foot against the door to get them into one of the inner courtyard rooms on the second floor at the back of the small complex.
Looking around, the darkness no impediment to his enhanced sight, Ash nodded. “At least we won’t have to sleep as rough.”
While he’d slept out beneath the open sky many times in his long life and enjoyed it, it was just that little bit too cold, when there was no need to suffer he wouldn’t. Nor would Miri if he could help it.
And he needed the sleep to restore himself.
The room was musty, dark and dank from being closed up in the shadow of the great towering pines native to this area but a little magic took care of that. It would do well enough. He had just enough magic remaining for what he needed.
With a gesture, he conjured a few candles, scattered them around the room. A fire spell lit them.
Another spell banished any vermin that might have taken up homes in the carpet.
Lastly, he summoned some of the bedding from his old quarters on the ethereal plane, let it settle over the rusting bed frame that remained here so they would be suitably comfortable.
He conjured up some food, enough to give him some sustenance. At least they wouldn’t starve.
Looking around, Miri shook her head in astonishment. Candlelight lit the room warmly, softly.
The fear had worn off but she felt jittery and unnerved by the violence. Until now.
Magic. She’d felt it. The room had been nothing but shadows and darker shadows, Ash’s body sensed more than seen, the warmth of it a beacon beside her. Then, suddenly, there was light.
While she understood the concept from her vision of him and from what she’d seen of the ethereal planes, she’d never seen such profligate use of it.
The mattress overhung the full size bed frame by inches on each side and the sheets, judging by the rich golden sheen of them, were silk. A light quilted covering in a deep scarlet satin lay overtop of it. The candleholders were gold filigree.
A platter of meat appeared on the sole table, along with a thick round of bread, olives, cheese, fresh vegetables and a bottle of wine.
Miri just shook her head in wonder, turning to look at Ash.
In the dim light his stoic expression showed nothing but there was pain in him, it was evident in the way he stood. Blood had trickled from a wound in his arm and another in his thigh, staining his jeans. Small cuts and scratches were scattered over his arms. Those, at least, had stopped bleeding.
Both breath and heart caught as the bond between them echoed his hurt.
“Ash,” she gasped, pained.
Stepping closer, she could see the wound that had passed through one biceps. Half-healed, it had reopened under the twists and turns they had taken. It had to hurt
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