Read Online Demons Undone: The Sons of Gulielmus Series by Holley Trent - Free Book Online Page B

phone out of his jeans pocket, and handed it to John. “I’ll call you when I have another phone.”
    “Thanks, I guess.”
    Charles snapped his fingers and grunted, nearly spewing the beer he’d snipped. “By the way, we’re not susceptible to STDs, so don’t let that stop you from approaching questionable-looking women.”
    “But pregnancy?”
    Charles swept a hand at the two of them demonstrably. “Obviously. Our sire has a special knack for it. I suspect we do as well, but I always rubber up. If I have any kids right now, they’re probably elderly and there isn’t a damned thing I can do for them.” With that, he walked away with his beer.
    John raked a hand through his messy hair and blew out a breath. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to have so many kids he wouldn’t recognize them all, or to not even know they existed. There was no way a man could love that many children, much less provide for them all. Well, Gulielmus could — the provide for part, anyway. He had to be loaded. But, he wasn’t sure if his father was capable of love with him being a demon and all. And that was the most important part of fathering, wasn’t it?
    He headed toward the elevator, pondering that. The man he thought was his father until he was a young man had certainly never shown him any affection, not that he’d really expected any. There were just too many kids, and as John got older, his father saw him as competition. He couldn’t have known for sure John wasn’t actually his, but that didn’t make John feel any better about his aloofness.
    Back at the room, he knocked, and stood there at the door for a while thinking maybe Gulielmus had been right. Maybe he should just give up on this one. Find some other woman. Someone
easier.
Someone whose name he hadn’t learned and who he hadn’t developed any affection for. That way, if he walked away afterward and she ended up pregnant, he wouldn’t know, and wouldn’t give a damn.
    “There you are.” Ariel, shower-fresh and hair still damp, pulled open the door and waved him in. The air was thick with the pungent odor of tomato sauce and spices, and although John’s mouth watered, he didn’t think he could eat anything.
    She poked her head out into the hallway, looked both ways, and drew in. Confusion sagged her features. “Where’s Trucker? I ordered a lot of pizza.”
    “He went to his room.” John shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and fondled the phone he’d wedged into one. He couldn’t tell if her expression was one of disappointment or relief. Either way, she padded across the living room and pulled out a chair at the table.
    “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got one pepperoni, and one junk pizza.”
    He moved slowly to the sofa without looking at her and went to work heeling off his boots. He tried to drag it out, taking his time removing the scuffed-up things, but there was only so much time he could waste. He just couldn’t look at her again. In that thin, worn t-shirt she wore advertising some ten-k run she’d completed, he could see every curve of her breasts, and the hint of dark nipples behind a finish line tape. And those little sweat-shorts that made her toned legs seem extra-long? He imagined them wrapped around his waist.
    He wished there was some cambion trait that could make him as apathetic as Charles had seemed. Or maybe that was something acquired over time? He hoped it would come soon, because he couldn’t go falling in love with every woman that picked him up. He’d
really
wish he were dead.
    When he finally cast his gaze toward Ariel, there was concern written all over her face. Her pizza slice was poised in mid-arc between the box and her mouth as she studied him. “What’s wrong? Did your brother upset you somehow?”
    That’s putting it mildly.
    “Or maybe he called you out for hanging out with some crazy lady who picked up a hitchhiker?” Now she laughed, and that made the tension in his gut unfurl