Read Online Jude; The Fallen (The Fallen Series, Book 2) by Tara S. Wood, Lorecia Goings - Free Book Online Page A
Book: Jude; The Fallen (The Fallen Series, Book 2) by Tara S. Wood, Lorecia Goings
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Authors: Tara S. Wood, Lorecia Goings
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light swirled around him, causing The Dealer to gasp in alarm. An Anubis. In the flesh. Dangerous and interesting. He filed that away for later perusal and continued on.
A few glimpses later, he slowed the procession again, this time peering harder into the vision. An office. Her office, judging by the wall-to-wall library shelving and the number of artifacts ensconced in display cases. A tongue swiped out over his lips, feeling the need to wet a mouth suddenly gone dry. Staring back at him from behind glass was a perfectly preserved Egyptian death mask. Akhenaten. Yes, this he could work with.
The cool golden and inlaid visage slipped past, and the next image that came forth made him stop breathing altogether. The tall man was back, his hand wrapped around a smaller one. One that belonged to a little girl. Her long red hair and bright green eyes were a carbon copy of the woman who had been in his shop not hours before. A daughter. A treasure above all others. But she was not the treasure his Lord was after.
A few more images later, what he sought finally came into view. There on a bookshelf, under an inconspicuous glass case, lay the artifact in question. A small obsidian stone, fashioned onto a gold chain. The image was not perfectly clear, but there was no doubt this was it. It was smooth, worn down by centuries of touch, the inscriptions barely visible.
On a broken gasp, The Dealer let go of the pen and opened his eyes. The irises glowed with an intense yellow fire, and his lips curled back in a feral snarl. He would procure the object, but he would bring back more. Surely, his Lord would not object to some forward thinking on his part? After all, it was no secret that Lucifer had been disappointing as of late, and anything he could do to get into his Lord’s good graces would not be amiss.
Lucifer. The snarl on his lips deepened and a small growl escaped in a huff of breath. The arrogant tosser deserved everything he got. He was as cold as he was beautiful, icy and untouchable. As sharp as he was dangerous. The favorite flavor of the past millennia. It was enough to make his stomach turn.
The Dealer pulled open the drawer and retrieved his missive. He stared down at the envelope his visitor had left and smiled, remembering the distaste plastered across Lucifer's smooth features. How interesting that the fallen angel's name, once whispered in reverent tones, now sparked him to a satisfying smirk of pity. Lucifer, the blindingly beautiful angel who once ushered the downfall of Heaven's greatest angels with his silver tongue, reduced to delivering lower-level missions by hand. The smirk widened to a grin. Satan's personal postman in a three-piece suit.
And now the opportunity he'd waited for was handed over by the best-dressed lackey in the Nine circles. Growing ambition coiled in his belly. His orders were clear. But there was nothing said about going above and beyond this dark call of duty. He thought about the redhead and her treasures. Oh, yes. Not only would he succeed, but he would triumph on unheard of levels. The envelope crumpled in his hand. And wouldn't that just take the shine off the Morning Star's designer shoes?
Chapter Five
Coriander shut Ashtiru’s door behind her with a soft click. A flicker of movement to her left made her turn. Alex stood in the shadows of the long hallway, the light from the open door of the bedroom spilling over the crossed arms over his chest.
“She asleep?”
“Of course she is. Teir and Seph had her running all over the yard all afternoon,” she replied. “The child was exhausted.”
The long line of Alex’s body shifted into a casual lean against the door frame. It made him look inviting, and the bastard knew it. That was the problem with Alex. He knew exactly how to use his appeal to his advantage. If she were still in love with him, it would be annoying. Now it was just tiring.
“Come inside? Have a drink?” he asked quietly.
Why the hell
A few glimpses later, he slowed the procession again, this time peering harder into the vision. An office. Her office, judging by the wall-to-wall library shelving and the number of artifacts ensconced in display cases. A tongue swiped out over his lips, feeling the need to wet a mouth suddenly gone dry. Staring back at him from behind glass was a perfectly preserved Egyptian death mask. Akhenaten. Yes, this he could work with.
The cool golden and inlaid visage slipped past, and the next image that came forth made him stop breathing altogether. The tall man was back, his hand wrapped around a smaller one. One that belonged to a little girl. Her long red hair and bright green eyes were a carbon copy of the woman who had been in his shop not hours before. A daughter. A treasure above all others. But she was not the treasure his Lord was after.
A few more images later, what he sought finally came into view. There on a bookshelf, under an inconspicuous glass case, lay the artifact in question. A small obsidian stone, fashioned onto a gold chain. The image was not perfectly clear, but there was no doubt this was it. It was smooth, worn down by centuries of touch, the inscriptions barely visible.
On a broken gasp, The Dealer let go of the pen and opened his eyes. The irises glowed with an intense yellow fire, and his lips curled back in a feral snarl. He would procure the object, but he would bring back more. Surely, his Lord would not object to some forward thinking on his part? After all, it was no secret that Lucifer had been disappointing as of late, and anything he could do to get into his Lord’s good graces would not be amiss.
Lucifer. The snarl on his lips deepened and a small growl escaped in a huff of breath. The arrogant tosser deserved everything he got. He was as cold as he was beautiful, icy and untouchable. As sharp as he was dangerous. The favorite flavor of the past millennia. It was enough to make his stomach turn.
The Dealer pulled open the drawer and retrieved his missive. He stared down at the envelope his visitor had left and smiled, remembering the distaste plastered across Lucifer's smooth features. How interesting that the fallen angel's name, once whispered in reverent tones, now sparked him to a satisfying smirk of pity. Lucifer, the blindingly beautiful angel who once ushered the downfall of Heaven's greatest angels with his silver tongue, reduced to delivering lower-level missions by hand. The smirk widened to a grin. Satan's personal postman in a three-piece suit.
And now the opportunity he'd waited for was handed over by the best-dressed lackey in the Nine circles. Growing ambition coiled in his belly. His orders were clear. But there was nothing said about going above and beyond this dark call of duty. He thought about the redhead and her treasures. Oh, yes. Not only would he succeed, but he would triumph on unheard of levels. The envelope crumpled in his hand. And wouldn't that just take the shine off the Morning Star's designer shoes?
Chapter Five
Coriander shut Ashtiru’s door behind her with a soft click. A flicker of movement to her left made her turn. Alex stood in the shadows of the long hallway, the light from the open door of the bedroom spilling over the crossed arms over his chest.
“She asleep?”
“Of course she is. Teir and Seph had her running all over the yard all afternoon,” she replied. “The child was exhausted.”
The long line of Alex’s body shifted into a casual lean against the door frame. It made him look inviting, and the bastard knew it. That was the problem with Alex. He knew exactly how to use his appeal to his advantage. If she were still in love with him, it would be annoying. Now it was just tiring.
“Come inside? Have a drink?” he asked quietly.
Why the hell
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