Read Online Red Demon by Deidre Knight - Free Book Online

Petrakos,” he said. “There are times I’d like to do the same to you myself.”
    To that smart reply, Ari only cursed more rudely, calling River every profane name in his ancient Greek dictionary. Ari noticed something then, a nifty little fact that hit his awareness on a twenty-second delay. Emma’s eyes had grown surprisingly wide, as if she actually understood his foul accusations.
    Ari sat up, swatting at the stars that swam in front of his eyes. “What?”
    “I guess you’ve forgotten that River’s been teaching me Greek.”
    River grinned. “It’s fun to coach her on the nasty bits.”
    “Fucking awesome,” Ari said, sliding back down onto the pillow.
    “Maybe Sophie can help him,” River volunteered.
    “Yeah, she fixed Sable,” he groaned. “She got rid of those spikes . . . the ones Ares put on his body.”
    “Not all of them,” Emma corrected. “And she hasn’t figured out how to use the ability again.”
    “Get . . . me . . . Sophie,” Ari ground out. “And some ibuprofen. Stat.”
     
    Juliana blew down the street, struggling to gain some kind of physical anchor. One moment, she’d been rooted inside of Emma; the next, that fist had knocked into Aristos—and she’d been released, unable to remain inside the woman. She’d been discharged against the walls of her own brownstone like inhuman scattershot.
    She’d hurled through the air and dimensions, nearly landing on the sidewalk outside, but then the wind had gusted, catching her in its tumbleweed hold. Until the low branch of a live oak had snagged her ghostly hair, capturing her like a wayward butterfly. Hers was an in-between state, not quite physical, not fully spiritual—enough that a low-borne tree could trap her, even though she wasn’t visible to passing mortals.
    She clung to that branch, which was like a protector, resisting the wind’s force lest she end up blocks away from home. She had no idea how long she’d been tangled up in the limb’s fragile grasp, and kept praying that she hadn’t lost her own hold. The one she had over Aristos, her true love.
    And still that wind blew, thrashing her thin essence, beating her against the trunk of the old live oak.
    She hated stormy nights; they brought back painful emotions. A night like this one had spelled the end of her relationship with Aristos, but she could never seem to re-create the details, only the physical sensation of the wind. And that heavy, crashing water, waves upon waves of it.
    Ari obviously knew she was dead—he’d proclaimed as much. Why was it that she so often forgot the fact? Perhaps because she did not want to accept that fate, but even so, her mind and memories fluctuated. Sometimes, as she stared about Savannah, she knew this was not her own time. The physical proof assaulted her undeniably: the very fast carriages, lit by the odd lanterns at night. The hard, darkly paved streets. The women hurrying past without proper escorts, never seeing her and dressed as Emma had been tonight, in men’s attire.
    Other times, she saw nothing, lost only in a circular maze of memory, reliving her final moments with Aristos. How could he believe that she would ever, in any lifetime or place, have left him willingly?
    On any other night, she’d have simply let nature have its forceful way, would have landed wherever fate dictated and then worked her way back to West Jones Street. But not this time, because then she might miss seeing Aristos when he left the brownstone. He’d be walking down those steps soon, just as he had the night they’d first met.
    But this next sighting of him might be her final one, for certainly their last encounter had not gone as she’d expected. He had been so furious with her, a reaction she never could have anticipated.
    I am naught but a dead woman , she reminded herself. That is all he thinks of me. He believes that I abandoned him, found him horrifying.
    Oh, but his wings had been mesmerizing . A welcome explanation after a