Read Online Summon Toren (Archangels Creed #3) by Azure Boone, Kenra Daniels - Free Book Online
Authors: Azure Boone, Kenra Daniels
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into gear after three tries only to have it jolt hard with a nasty grinding sound and sputter to death. He took a deep breath and tried again and finally succeeded in making the machine move a little.
Far slower than he wanted, he maneuvered it around to head back the way they'd come. Except the road was officially gone. He scanned the solid white blanket around them then looked down at her dark form on the seat. In the past few minutes he’d had to remind himself a dozen times not to use his angelic powers; to put out the fire, stop her in her tracks, heal her burns, still the storm. Maybe if he hadn’t been so busy needing to be an angel, he could’ve actually assisted her. It didn't help that his mercury seemed to be conforming to everything all at once, like an eager child in a candy shop, making it impossible for Toren to think quickly.
Toren drove slowly. If he went off the road, he didn’t want to hurt her. He'd never get them all the way back to ranch that way. The temptation to once more curse the demonic war that prevented him from just grabbing her up and flashing them to safety rose again.
The snow fell so heavily he could only see a few yards ahead without resorting to angelic sight. A dark hulking form hung just at the edge of his vision and finally took shape. The cabin Samantha pointed out on their way in waited just out of reach for an eternity.
When it heaved out of the snow to appear in front of the truck, it happened with startling suddenness and forced him to stomp the pedal that stopped the truck. Metal groaned as the thing's front end nearly plowed into the ground. Frigid air abruptly surrounded his foot, prompting him to look down.
Damn. Who knew human machinery was so fragile? His foot hung through a hole in the floor where he'd shoved the stopping mechanism all the way through. Didn't matter. He'd managed to get Samantha to shelter. If only it were safe.
Toren skidded through the falling snow into the cabin to clear a path and make sure it wasn’t already occupied. The dark one room cabin was cold and empty. Perfect. A metallic glint beside the door drew his attention to an object he recognized from TV westerns as a lantern sitting on a little table. The box of matches sat beside it and he only wasted two before he managed to light the lantern by mimicking what he'd seen on TV.
Satisfied with his progress for the moment, he went back to the truck for Samantha. He sacrificed a little gentleness in the interest of speed and lifted her close to his chest to block the harrowing wind and darted for the door.
Inside, he nudged the door carefully closed and got her to the bed. With care, he laid her down, his nose stinging with the disgusting male human scent permeating the blanket. Whoever had last lain there hadn't bothered with bathing, or been particular about the company he kept, judging from the vague hint of sulfur lingering in the blanket.
Tremors wracked Samantha's slight body and Toren remembered the cold. Lacking human vulnerabilities would require him to stay sharp so he didn’t neglect any of hers. In a matter of minutes, he had a nice fire built in the little round cast-iron stove with wood he’d found stored in the far corner of the room. Fire was extremely important for the heat it offered her and it could also be a quick, undetectable portal for him if it should become necessary.
And to think, Kassern, Dorn and the others had ridiculed him for watching all those old Westerns. Toren couldn't wait to tell them how useful that waste of time had been. Without it, he'd have been ignorant of how to make that little cabin habitable for Samantha.
Toren paced the room, thinking with minimal capacity and effort so as not to spark any spiritual fires that might light up his location to any demon within range. His body felt harnessed in an unfamiliar, uncomfortable way. Of course it had something to do with not knowing exactly what Samantha needed and how to provide it without using
Far slower than he wanted, he maneuvered it around to head back the way they'd come. Except the road was officially gone. He scanned the solid white blanket around them then looked down at her dark form on the seat. In the past few minutes he’d had to remind himself a dozen times not to use his angelic powers; to put out the fire, stop her in her tracks, heal her burns, still the storm. Maybe if he hadn’t been so busy needing to be an angel, he could’ve actually assisted her. It didn't help that his mercury seemed to be conforming to everything all at once, like an eager child in a candy shop, making it impossible for Toren to think quickly.
Toren drove slowly. If he went off the road, he didn’t want to hurt her. He'd never get them all the way back to ranch that way. The temptation to once more curse the demonic war that prevented him from just grabbing her up and flashing them to safety rose again.
The snow fell so heavily he could only see a few yards ahead without resorting to angelic sight. A dark hulking form hung just at the edge of his vision and finally took shape. The cabin Samantha pointed out on their way in waited just out of reach for an eternity.
When it heaved out of the snow to appear in front of the truck, it happened with startling suddenness and forced him to stomp the pedal that stopped the truck. Metal groaned as the thing's front end nearly plowed into the ground. Frigid air abruptly surrounded his foot, prompting him to look down.
Damn. Who knew human machinery was so fragile? His foot hung through a hole in the floor where he'd shoved the stopping mechanism all the way through. Didn't matter. He'd managed to get Samantha to shelter. If only it were safe.
Toren skidded through the falling snow into the cabin to clear a path and make sure it wasn’t already occupied. The dark one room cabin was cold and empty. Perfect. A metallic glint beside the door drew his attention to an object he recognized from TV westerns as a lantern sitting on a little table. The box of matches sat beside it and he only wasted two before he managed to light the lantern by mimicking what he'd seen on TV.
Satisfied with his progress for the moment, he went back to the truck for Samantha. He sacrificed a little gentleness in the interest of speed and lifted her close to his chest to block the harrowing wind and darted for the door.
Inside, he nudged the door carefully closed and got her to the bed. With care, he laid her down, his nose stinging with the disgusting male human scent permeating the blanket. Whoever had last lain there hadn't bothered with bathing, or been particular about the company he kept, judging from the vague hint of sulfur lingering in the blanket.
Tremors wracked Samantha's slight body and Toren remembered the cold. Lacking human vulnerabilities would require him to stay sharp so he didn’t neglect any of hers. In a matter of minutes, he had a nice fire built in the little round cast-iron stove with wood he’d found stored in the far corner of the room. Fire was extremely important for the heat it offered her and it could also be a quick, undetectable portal for him if it should become necessary.
And to think, Kassern, Dorn and the others had ridiculed him for watching all those old Westerns. Toren couldn't wait to tell them how useful that waste of time had been. Without it, he'd have been ignorant of how to make that little cabin habitable for Samantha.
Toren paced the room, thinking with minimal capacity and effort so as not to spark any spiritual fires that might light up his location to any demon within range. His body felt harnessed in an unfamiliar, uncomfortable way. Of course it had something to do with not knowing exactly what Samantha needed and how to provide it without using
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