Read Online Night Call (Book 2): Demon Dei by L.J. Hayward - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: L.J. Hayward
Tags: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal
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went back to the kitchen and made a sandwich.
Just as she was putting the salmon back in the fridge, she felt it.
The drawing sensation of the call. It was the same summoner as last time and his call knew her better now it’d had direct contact. The hook hit faster than it had the first time and set deep into her belly. This time, the driving emotions were calm and calculated, but beneath the surface, seething with frustration.
“Listen, Amaya,” Nick said as he walked into the kitchen.
Then the hook pulled and she was swept out of the room. The look of stunned shock on Nick’s face stayed with her all the way. She was condensed down into a tight arrow of energy and shot along the beam of the summoning. It was a flight of a split second and then she was pouring out the far end, puddling on the floor before forming up without conscious thought.
As she solidified, power was drawn out of her, siphoned from her spirit to mix with that of her summoner and create the barrier that would hold her prisoner. This summoner was good. Few people had the wherewithal to power a summoning circle, let alone know how to use one.
It was her natural shape she’d formed upon entering the circle. Inside its power, she couldn’t do anything without a command, not even shape shift into another body. This body was her true form, but it felt alien now. She’d been Amaya, girlfriend to Nick Carson and Renata Rose’s cook—completely human—for two years. Her real body was too tall and muscular, the wings a weight on her back. Her hair flowed down to her knees and all she wore was a terribly brief kilt held on by a belt of glistening red, scaly leather. She’d made the belt from the skin of her first lover. Her own skin was a deep golden colour, her hair silver and her eyes, she knew, were a cold-burning blue.
The room was bare of furniture and ornamentation and smelled faintly of fresh paint. It was the same place she’d been called to last week.
Then, her summoner had been furious, almost speechless with anger. He’d been pacing when she appeared in the circle, his emotions whipping through the power of the circle, feeding into her. The gut deep pain of being ignored and betrayed had infected her and when he’d managed to explain what he’d wanted, she’d been all too eager, bound to do his will by command and passion.
The physicist had cut the summoner deeply and from what Amaya had felt when she’d had her morphed hands around her neck, Geraldine Davis hadn’t even realised it.
This time it was different. He wasn’t furious, wasn’t seething with emotional pain. There was no pacing, just a calm, dark-cloaked and hooded figure standing outside her circle. Externally, he was cool and collected but she felt the emotion feeding his contribution to the circle. There was anger, but it wasn’t a deep, passionate anger this time. It was frustrated anger.
As before, his feelings bled into hers, mingled with her own frustrations with Nick and resulted in a very testy, “What now? I was in the middle of something.”
“Patience, Amaymon. You know you have no power to question me.”
Amaymon . Her true name. The easiest way for her to be summoned. There were other ways, but none quite so convenient. The emotional turmoil of her first summoning hadn’t allowed her the chance to find out how he’d discovered her name. It hadn’t allowed for much more than performing the task he’d given her.
She scowled. “I can question. You just don’t have to answer.”
“True.”
“So, how did you discover my name? I’ve not made a spectacle of myself possessing poor nuns in the 1600s and I’ve not made bargains to find lost riches or give the summoner unparalleled sexual prowess. My name is unknown to the human realm.”
He walked around her circle, slow and deliberate. She resisted the urge to watch him prowl. Nick had taught her how to dive and she’d been down in the cages with the sharks. She knew it was best, even with
Just as she was putting the salmon back in the fridge, she felt it.
The drawing sensation of the call. It was the same summoner as last time and his call knew her better now it’d had direct contact. The hook hit faster than it had the first time and set deep into her belly. This time, the driving emotions were calm and calculated, but beneath the surface, seething with frustration.
“Listen, Amaya,” Nick said as he walked into the kitchen.
Then the hook pulled and she was swept out of the room. The look of stunned shock on Nick’s face stayed with her all the way. She was condensed down into a tight arrow of energy and shot along the beam of the summoning. It was a flight of a split second and then she was pouring out the far end, puddling on the floor before forming up without conscious thought.
As she solidified, power was drawn out of her, siphoned from her spirit to mix with that of her summoner and create the barrier that would hold her prisoner. This summoner was good. Few people had the wherewithal to power a summoning circle, let alone know how to use one.
It was her natural shape she’d formed upon entering the circle. Inside its power, she couldn’t do anything without a command, not even shape shift into another body. This body was her true form, but it felt alien now. She’d been Amaya, girlfriend to Nick Carson and Renata Rose’s cook—completely human—for two years. Her real body was too tall and muscular, the wings a weight on her back. Her hair flowed down to her knees and all she wore was a terribly brief kilt held on by a belt of glistening red, scaly leather. She’d made the belt from the skin of her first lover. Her own skin was a deep golden colour, her hair silver and her eyes, she knew, were a cold-burning blue.
The room was bare of furniture and ornamentation and smelled faintly of fresh paint. It was the same place she’d been called to last week.
Then, her summoner had been furious, almost speechless with anger. He’d been pacing when she appeared in the circle, his emotions whipping through the power of the circle, feeding into her. The gut deep pain of being ignored and betrayed had infected her and when he’d managed to explain what he’d wanted, she’d been all too eager, bound to do his will by command and passion.
The physicist had cut the summoner deeply and from what Amaya had felt when she’d had her morphed hands around her neck, Geraldine Davis hadn’t even realised it.
This time it was different. He wasn’t furious, wasn’t seething with emotional pain. There was no pacing, just a calm, dark-cloaked and hooded figure standing outside her circle. Externally, he was cool and collected but she felt the emotion feeding his contribution to the circle. There was anger, but it wasn’t a deep, passionate anger this time. It was frustrated anger.
As before, his feelings bled into hers, mingled with her own frustrations with Nick and resulted in a very testy, “What now? I was in the middle of something.”
“Patience, Amaymon. You know you have no power to question me.”
Amaymon . Her true name. The easiest way for her to be summoned. There were other ways, but none quite so convenient. The emotional turmoil of her first summoning hadn’t allowed her the chance to find out how he’d discovered her name. It hadn’t allowed for much more than performing the task he’d given her.
She scowled. “I can question. You just don’t have to answer.”
“True.”
“So, how did you discover my name? I’ve not made a spectacle of myself possessing poor nuns in the 1600s and I’ve not made bargains to find lost riches or give the summoner unparalleled sexual prowess. My name is unknown to the human realm.”
He walked around her circle, slow and deliberate. She resisted the urge to watch him prowl. Nick had taught her how to dive and she’d been down in the cages with the sharks. She knew it was best, even with
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