Read Online Demon's Embrace by V. J. Devereaux - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: V. J. Devereaux
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like hell.
“Ash, my God,” she said, softly, stricken.
“It’s nothing,” Ash said, with a shrug. “They’ll heal.”
They would, eventually. They pained him but he’d taken worse, much worse, over the centuries. He’d become almost accustomed to pain over time. In time they would heal of their own accord.
“There has to be something I can do. Magic up some bandages for me,” she said, clearly horrified. “The least I can do is clean and dress them.”
Ash smiled. Magic up. The phrase amused him. He would have chuckled but her gaze was so intent.
With a wave, he did as he was told and produced some antiseptic and a small package of gauze bandages from his house here on this plane. As one of the Healers among the Daemonae there were times when a simple dressing was far easier than magic, which cost energy. Or those times such as now when the Healer – who couldn’t heal himself – needed to be bandaged.
There was tenderness in Miri’s touch. It moved him to see the care she took.
It had been a long time since anyone had tended him and never with this kind of solicitude, not since his mother when Ash had been very small. Before they’d killed her.
For all the excitement and gunfire, for all her fear, Miri’s touch was gentle and her scent was soft. She smelled of the sea and Miri. As close as he was he couldn’t miss that delicate perfume as she gently cleaned the wound in his arm. For all the pain, there was Miri and her soft scent to ease it.
Seated on the edge of the mattress he’d layered on the bed, he was at eye level with her, all too conscious and aware of her attention on him, of her sea-foam eyes focused on the wound in his arm. Just her touch was enough to send heat coursing through him.
He studied her while he had the chance, while she was so close and so intent.
Save for those otherworldly eyes, she reminded him of a clever, pretty fox with that rich red hair and those high cheekbones. Her nose was straight, her mouth perfect, neither too thin nor too full. Candlelight flickered softly over her fine features, caught in the red and gold highlights in the rich waves of her hair as it cascaded around her face. The light was too faint for even his enhanced vision to see the light dusting of freckles over her nose.
To his eyes she was beautiful.
Aware of his regard, she slanted a look at him and the beauty of those celestial green eyes struck him nearly like a blow. His entire body went taut, his abs tightened and his cock stiffened. There was something in her eyes.
“I want to see you,” she whispered, her eyes on his. “All of you, Ashtoreth. The real you.”
Ash hesitated, fearful for once in his life as he looked back at her, knowing what it was she wanted. She wanted to see him, Ashtoreth, as he truly was. She would see what had been done to him, see the scars without his clothes and the concealing darkness to hide the worst of them from her.
It was one thing to see his Daemonae self in the heat of battle, this was something entirely different.
She wanted the truth of him.
It took an act of courage for him to do it.
He took a breath and tugged his t-shirt free of his jeans. Her hands went to his, stilled them.
“Let me,” she said softly, her green eyes intent.
Ash watched as she turned her attention as intently to removing his shirt as she had to cleaning and binding the wound in his arm.
Miri couldn’t stop looking at him, at all of him. So close, he was even more striking. His strong features were so unique, sharp and even more handsome up close.
A breath sighed out of her. It was all so incredible. All her life she’d dreamed of this kind of connection, this sense of belonging. She’d sought it in others not knowing she would only find it here in him, in Ash. In wonder, she traced the strong line of a cheekbone, his dark eyes brilliant as they looked back, touched with sparks as he looked at her.
He was so beautiful and yet his gaze was shuttered, closed
“Ash, my God,” she said, softly, stricken.
“It’s nothing,” Ash said, with a shrug. “They’ll heal.”
They would, eventually. They pained him but he’d taken worse, much worse, over the centuries. He’d become almost accustomed to pain over time. In time they would heal of their own accord.
“There has to be something I can do. Magic up some bandages for me,” she said, clearly horrified. “The least I can do is clean and dress them.”
Ash smiled. Magic up. The phrase amused him. He would have chuckled but her gaze was so intent.
With a wave, he did as he was told and produced some antiseptic and a small package of gauze bandages from his house here on this plane. As one of the Healers among the Daemonae there were times when a simple dressing was far easier than magic, which cost energy. Or those times such as now when the Healer – who couldn’t heal himself – needed to be bandaged.
There was tenderness in Miri’s touch. It moved him to see the care she took.
It had been a long time since anyone had tended him and never with this kind of solicitude, not since his mother when Ash had been very small. Before they’d killed her.
For all the excitement and gunfire, for all her fear, Miri’s touch was gentle and her scent was soft. She smelled of the sea and Miri. As close as he was he couldn’t miss that delicate perfume as she gently cleaned the wound in his arm. For all the pain, there was Miri and her soft scent to ease it.
Seated on the edge of the mattress he’d layered on the bed, he was at eye level with her, all too conscious and aware of her attention on him, of her sea-foam eyes focused on the wound in his arm. Just her touch was enough to send heat coursing through him.
He studied her while he had the chance, while she was so close and so intent.
Save for those otherworldly eyes, she reminded him of a clever, pretty fox with that rich red hair and those high cheekbones. Her nose was straight, her mouth perfect, neither too thin nor too full. Candlelight flickered softly over her fine features, caught in the red and gold highlights in the rich waves of her hair as it cascaded around her face. The light was too faint for even his enhanced vision to see the light dusting of freckles over her nose.
To his eyes she was beautiful.
Aware of his regard, she slanted a look at him and the beauty of those celestial green eyes struck him nearly like a blow. His entire body went taut, his abs tightened and his cock stiffened. There was something in her eyes.
“I want to see you,” she whispered, her eyes on his. “All of you, Ashtoreth. The real you.”
Ash hesitated, fearful for once in his life as he looked back at her, knowing what it was she wanted. She wanted to see him, Ashtoreth, as he truly was. She would see what had been done to him, see the scars without his clothes and the concealing darkness to hide the worst of them from her.
It was one thing to see his Daemonae self in the heat of battle, this was something entirely different.
She wanted the truth of him.
It took an act of courage for him to do it.
He took a breath and tugged his t-shirt free of his jeans. Her hands went to his, stilled them.
“Let me,” she said softly, her green eyes intent.
Ash watched as she turned her attention as intently to removing his shirt as she had to cleaning and binding the wound in his arm.
Miri couldn’t stop looking at him, at all of him. So close, he was even more striking. His strong features were so unique, sharp and even more handsome up close.
A breath sighed out of her. It was all so incredible. All her life she’d dreamed of this kind of connection, this sense of belonging. She’d sought it in others not knowing she would only find it here in him, in Ash. In wonder, she traced the strong line of a cheekbone, his dark eyes brilliant as they looked back, touched with sparks as he looked at her.
He was so beautiful and yet his gaze was shuttered, closed
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