Read Online Satan's Sword (Imp Book 2) by Debra Dunbar - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Debra Dunbar
Ads: Link
tests.”
“Those things don’t matter to me. This game matters to you. I can tell it reflects your status among the humans you respect; it provides you with a sense of where you stand in their hierarchy. I want to make it clear that you are favored, under the protection of a higher life form and that they should acknowledge your level.” Besides, I could hardly slaughter a field full of eight year old girls in their dressage outfits and possibly hope to get away with it.
“No Sam. You are not to interfere with my work. You will not kill my opponents. I know you don’t understand it, I know it goes against how you handle things back home, but you need to restrain yourself in these things.”
Whatever. I would indulge him. Everyone would think I’d gone soft allowing a human to demand this of me. I was hardly a demon anymore, doting over someone so much weaker than me in this fashion. I was soft on Wyatt though. I would suffer so much if he weren’t with me. I’d try to play by his rules to keep him happy. But if that woman in Cleveland got too far out of line, she was going to meet with an unfortunate accident.
Chapter 7
I was in a tank top and flannel PJs early Sunday, listening to light jazz, and getting my morning coffee. Wyatt had managed to get past his anger over my offer to kill his gaming opponent, and we’d eaten crab cakes, drank beer, and had sex for the rest of the evening. I felt all warm and happy. I was contemplating going to the gym after my coffee, to work off all the crab cakes and beer, when the doorbell rang.
There was an angel at my door.
My heart leapt. He was here. I had missed him. I envisioned showing him what I could do with the water globes and him showing me other amazing things. One look at his face and I realized he was not equally happy to see me. My joy vanished and fear replaced it. I’d pushed him too far with my crazy displays of energy and my sexual taunting, masturbating with the tattoo. This was it. I was dead. He had finally come to finish me off and he’d had the courtesy to ring my doorbell first.
“Show me your arm, cockroach” Gregory snarled.
Anger replaced the fear. How dare he show up out of the blue, after eight weeks of nothing, and demand to see the stupid, botched-up brand he’d put on my arm. Arrogant asshole. I’d be damned if I let him order me around like this.
“No fucking way,” I told him and tried to shut the door in his face. He’s six and a half feet tall and built like a wrestler on steroids. He put an arm in the doorway and it just bounced back off him to slam open into the wall. As he strode in, I made a mad dash for the kitchen, vaulting over the counter top that divided it from the great room. Maybe I wouldn’t need to go to the gym after all.
He walked purposely across the room and stood a few feet away from the counter, watching me like a cat stalking a mouse. “Come here, cockroach” he ordered. “I’m going to fix that cursed thing or kill you. I haven’t decided which option appeals the most to me right now. Either way, you’ve tortured me with it for the last time.”
Yeah, like that was really going to make me comply. Did he seriously think I was going to actually come to him?
Instead I grabbed some knives and various kitchen utensils and threw them at him. He easily snatched the knives out of the air and plunged them into the fabric cushions of my bar stools. The spatulas and spoons he just batted away. I could have thrown a far more lethal burst of raw energy or lightning at him, but I didn’t want to damage my house.
Every knife I owned was stuck in my upholstery at this point, and I was looking quickly around for pots and pans to throw next when I saw him lunge at me over the counter. I ducked down so he would go over me, and scrambled around the island. He sailed right into the cabinetry with all the force of his weight, cracking one of the doors in half.
“Damnit, you broke my cabinet!” I shouted.
“Those things don’t matter to me. This game matters to you. I can tell it reflects your status among the humans you respect; it provides you with a sense of where you stand in their hierarchy. I want to make it clear that you are favored, under the protection of a higher life form and that they should acknowledge your level.” Besides, I could hardly slaughter a field full of eight year old girls in their dressage outfits and possibly hope to get away with it.
“No Sam. You are not to interfere with my work. You will not kill my opponents. I know you don’t understand it, I know it goes against how you handle things back home, but you need to restrain yourself in these things.”
Whatever. I would indulge him. Everyone would think I’d gone soft allowing a human to demand this of me. I was hardly a demon anymore, doting over someone so much weaker than me in this fashion. I was soft on Wyatt though. I would suffer so much if he weren’t with me. I’d try to play by his rules to keep him happy. But if that woman in Cleveland got too far out of line, she was going to meet with an unfortunate accident.
Chapter 7
I was in a tank top and flannel PJs early Sunday, listening to light jazz, and getting my morning coffee. Wyatt had managed to get past his anger over my offer to kill his gaming opponent, and we’d eaten crab cakes, drank beer, and had sex for the rest of the evening. I felt all warm and happy. I was contemplating going to the gym after my coffee, to work off all the crab cakes and beer, when the doorbell rang.
There was an angel at my door.
My heart leapt. He was here. I had missed him. I envisioned showing him what I could do with the water globes and him showing me other amazing things. One look at his face and I realized he was not equally happy to see me. My joy vanished and fear replaced it. I’d pushed him too far with my crazy displays of energy and my sexual taunting, masturbating with the tattoo. This was it. I was dead. He had finally come to finish me off and he’d had the courtesy to ring my doorbell first.
“Show me your arm, cockroach” Gregory snarled.
Anger replaced the fear. How dare he show up out of the blue, after eight weeks of nothing, and demand to see the stupid, botched-up brand he’d put on my arm. Arrogant asshole. I’d be damned if I let him order me around like this.
“No fucking way,” I told him and tried to shut the door in his face. He’s six and a half feet tall and built like a wrestler on steroids. He put an arm in the doorway and it just bounced back off him to slam open into the wall. As he strode in, I made a mad dash for the kitchen, vaulting over the counter top that divided it from the great room. Maybe I wouldn’t need to go to the gym after all.
He walked purposely across the room and stood a few feet away from the counter, watching me like a cat stalking a mouse. “Come here, cockroach” he ordered. “I’m going to fix that cursed thing or kill you. I haven’t decided which option appeals the most to me right now. Either way, you’ve tortured me with it for the last time.”
Yeah, like that was really going to make me comply. Did he seriously think I was going to actually come to him?
Instead I grabbed some knives and various kitchen utensils and threw them at him. He easily snatched the knives out of the air and plunged them into the fabric cushions of my bar stools. The spatulas and spoons he just batted away. I could have thrown a far more lethal burst of raw energy or lightning at him, but I didn’t want to damage my house.
Every knife I owned was stuck in my upholstery at this point, and I was looking quickly around for pots and pans to throw next when I saw him lunge at me over the counter. I ducked down so he would go over me, and scrambled around the island. He sailed right into the cabinetry with all the force of his weight, cracking one of the doors in half.
“Damnit, you broke my cabinet!” I shouted.
Similar Books
