Read Online Devil's Paw (Imp Book 4) by Debra Dunbar - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Debra Dunbar
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chloride this time instead of the magnesium.
How are you doing this without black powder? How are you propelling the stars? I’d explored human–made fireworks before. They were a dual–stage explosive, with initial propulsion, then a secondary, hotter ignition of chemicals. Magnesium had given his light show the silvery color, emitting light as it vibrated under heat. The worrisome chlorine and oxygen molecule created the heat needed, and the sulfur and carbon served as a reducer. But how was he getting the primary explosive?
I am not completely without talents. After all, fire is a skill of mine. His voice was teasing and affectionate.
I guess fire included explosives of all sorts. Nifty skill to have. I was downright envious.
Come on. I’m not getting any younger here.
Yeah, at six billion or more years old, he certainly wasn’t. I obliged and saw orange sparks fly and explode like an immense marigold of fire as the calcium chloride heated to the exact temperature for maximum color. He continued to request chemical combinations, and our movements became synchronized as we worked together. Gregory instructed me, explaining the optimal ignition temperatures for each compound, and how the addition of chloride enhanced the shade. The shapes above us grew complex, a kaleidoscope of color. I relaxed, safe in his embrace and enjoying his skill and knowledge.
Your turn.
He separated his spirit being from mine, touching only a small part to reassure me that he was nearby. I felt him edge me to the outside of his form, to gently ease me on my own. I clung to his spirit self, desperately trying to merge us again.
You can do it. I’ll catch you if you need. I’m right here.
I steadied myself, touching only that small portion of him. I was still inside his physical form, sharing it, and the prospect of attempting to do this on my own was terrifying. He nudged me again, and, in panic, I tried to grab a portion of his physical form, his flame, to steal and use as my own.
No. Greedy Cockroach. Make your own flame.
I could feel his amusement. He held firm against my grasping reach. Ignoring my fear, and concentrating, I created a mundane flame, far simpler than his unknown energy. Cautiously, I edged myself into it, like a swimmer at a January beach testing the waters. I was surprised to feel the flame support and cradle my being. I’d done it. I was fire. I could move. I could exist in a flame as long as there were appropriate conditions for combustion. I created a small amount of magnesium, along with the other elements, and sent it skyward in a flash of silver. Gregory renewed his contact with me, the touch turning seductive.
Nicely done, my Cockroach. Now try orange and blue.
Calcium chloride and copper chloride. Tricky, since copper required a lower temperature. I kept my fireworks on the ground, and our flames exploded in the colors that mirrored my spirit being. This was fun, but my concentration was beginning to falter with the press of him against me. Giving up the pursuit of fireworks, I turned my attention to the angel and caressed him in return. I didn’t have to ask twice. He snatched me from my flame and gathered me against him, my orange–blue an obscene splash of color against his red purple. We swirled together, and I lost track of everything except the feel of him all around me.
His spirit self explored every inch, giving wide berth to the massive amount of destructive raw energy I held. As he neared the scarred edges, still tender from the fight with Haagenti, I pulled back. He persisted, maneuvering me until he could again touch the damaged sections.
I’m still injured there.
I’m being very gentle. I just want to see.
It’s not pretty. I was embarrassed. Yes, he had scars too, but his were old and knitted together, trophies from a time of war, while mine were still fresh and raw and had a less than glorious story behind them. I winced, remembering his disgust over my devouring nature. These
How are you doing this without black powder? How are you propelling the stars? I’d explored human–made fireworks before. They were a dual–stage explosive, with initial propulsion, then a secondary, hotter ignition of chemicals. Magnesium had given his light show the silvery color, emitting light as it vibrated under heat. The worrisome chlorine and oxygen molecule created the heat needed, and the sulfur and carbon served as a reducer. But how was he getting the primary explosive?
I am not completely without talents. After all, fire is a skill of mine. His voice was teasing and affectionate.
I guess fire included explosives of all sorts. Nifty skill to have. I was downright envious.
Come on. I’m not getting any younger here.
Yeah, at six billion or more years old, he certainly wasn’t. I obliged and saw orange sparks fly and explode like an immense marigold of fire as the calcium chloride heated to the exact temperature for maximum color. He continued to request chemical combinations, and our movements became synchronized as we worked together. Gregory instructed me, explaining the optimal ignition temperatures for each compound, and how the addition of chloride enhanced the shade. The shapes above us grew complex, a kaleidoscope of color. I relaxed, safe in his embrace and enjoying his skill and knowledge.
Your turn.
He separated his spirit being from mine, touching only a small part to reassure me that he was nearby. I felt him edge me to the outside of his form, to gently ease me on my own. I clung to his spirit self, desperately trying to merge us again.
You can do it. I’ll catch you if you need. I’m right here.
I steadied myself, touching only that small portion of him. I was still inside his physical form, sharing it, and the prospect of attempting to do this on my own was terrifying. He nudged me again, and, in panic, I tried to grab a portion of his physical form, his flame, to steal and use as my own.
No. Greedy Cockroach. Make your own flame.
I could feel his amusement. He held firm against my grasping reach. Ignoring my fear, and concentrating, I created a mundane flame, far simpler than his unknown energy. Cautiously, I edged myself into it, like a swimmer at a January beach testing the waters. I was surprised to feel the flame support and cradle my being. I’d done it. I was fire. I could move. I could exist in a flame as long as there were appropriate conditions for combustion. I created a small amount of magnesium, along with the other elements, and sent it skyward in a flash of silver. Gregory renewed his contact with me, the touch turning seductive.
Nicely done, my Cockroach. Now try orange and blue.
Calcium chloride and copper chloride. Tricky, since copper required a lower temperature. I kept my fireworks on the ground, and our flames exploded in the colors that mirrored my spirit being. This was fun, but my concentration was beginning to falter with the press of him against me. Giving up the pursuit of fireworks, I turned my attention to the angel and caressed him in return. I didn’t have to ask twice. He snatched me from my flame and gathered me against him, my orange–blue an obscene splash of color against his red purple. We swirled together, and I lost track of everything except the feel of him all around me.
His spirit self explored every inch, giving wide berth to the massive amount of destructive raw energy I held. As he neared the scarred edges, still tender from the fight with Haagenti, I pulled back. He persisted, maneuvering me until he could again touch the damaged sections.
I’m still injured there.
I’m being very gentle. I just want to see.
It’s not pretty. I was embarrassed. Yes, he had scars too, but his were old and knitted together, trophies from a time of war, while mine were still fresh and raw and had a less than glorious story behind them. I winced, remembering his disgust over my devouring nature. These
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