Read Online Summon Toren (Archangels Creed #3) by Azure Boone, Kenra Daniels - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Azure Boone, Kenra Daniels
Ads: Link
his powers. Why hadn’t he anticipated such a scenario? He’d been too preoccupied with how to convince her to marry him to consider the elements of everyday life, that’s how. Definitely something to note for whichever archangel followed him.
He stood over her for a moment. Why was she still shaking? The fire had warmed the room appreciably and her breath no longer created steam plumes in the air. At a loss for what to do, he pushed a lock of hair off her forehead, his fingers brushing her skin. Unless he was mistaken, she felt far hotter than she should. He double checked and found her burning up.
Didn't that usually mean they were sick? His heart slammed against his ribs. No. he hadn't coaxed her back from the brink of death after her ordeal with the demon, and then dragged her from a fire and through a blizzard just to lose her to some germ. Determination focused his mind.
What caused the fever? Shock from the cold or her injuries? Or had the flu epidemic chosen the worst moment to strike? He put his face to hers to ascertain as much as he could naturally. Over a hundred degrees. So damn quickly. Amazing that such a fragile and vulnerable species had ever prospered and survived while far sturdier species of hominids had fallen prey to a simple inability to adapt. Perhaps one day humans might realize how the components of evolutionary theory and natural selection worked within the paradigm of Creation. Then they could focus on learning about the strengths to be found in understanding the unknown.
The thought of Samantha's fragility reminded him of her hauling that big bright orange bag. Emergency gear , she’d said. Toren stopped wondering and ran to get it. He yanked out a smaller red bag labeled First Aid that sat right on top. Thanks to Uriel, he knew at least the basics of human needs and functions.
He examined all the contents of the small bag, only to find none of it of obvious use. Frustrated, he resorted to reading the damn packages, instead of just using his senses and determining what Samantha needed. Being hobbled by the need for secrecy was becoming a serious handicap. Toren had a new healthy respect for the common guardians that looked after the frail species.
He bit open the pack that had the words fever reducer and dumped the two little red and yellow pills into his palm and paused. She would need— The food container had drinks.
He ran to the truck and got it. The snow fell even heavier than earlier, having already entirely obscured his tracks. Trying to plan more than a few seconds ahead for the first time since the blizzard began, he quickly ransacked the truck and grabbed every item he found that looked even remotely useful. If the snow kept falling at that rate, he might not manage to get back to the truck under purely human power. Just pushing the cabin door open against the accumulated snow had been a real task.
The heavy plank dropped into the brackets by the door to secure the entry, keeping the storm , and everything else, out. Toren moved fluidly to the bed and set his burden down. Sliding a bottle of water from the food carrier, he stopped to think. How would he get her to drink it while unconscious?
He could lift her head and shoulders and maybe she would drink when he put the bottle to her lips. He slid one arm under her shoulders and found her clothes were wet. Not dripping of course, but damp enough to be uncomfortable and cold. Combined with the fever, it seemed likely to cause worse problems. He could dry the clothes over the stove. She could stay covered with… what? That disgusting blanket? Unthinkable. The idea of it touching her made his skin crawl.
Toren stood and removed all his clothes except the layer the store clerk had called underwear. Everything was dry but his coat and he hung that over the stove. As soon as it dried, it’d make a good cover and until then, he’d use his shirt to cover her and leave her…underwear on. Surely she had the same as him.
He stood over her for a moment. Why was she still shaking? The fire had warmed the room appreciably and her breath no longer created steam plumes in the air. At a loss for what to do, he pushed a lock of hair off her forehead, his fingers brushing her skin. Unless he was mistaken, she felt far hotter than she should. He double checked and found her burning up.
Didn't that usually mean they were sick? His heart slammed against his ribs. No. he hadn't coaxed her back from the brink of death after her ordeal with the demon, and then dragged her from a fire and through a blizzard just to lose her to some germ. Determination focused his mind.
What caused the fever? Shock from the cold or her injuries? Or had the flu epidemic chosen the worst moment to strike? He put his face to hers to ascertain as much as he could naturally. Over a hundred degrees. So damn quickly. Amazing that such a fragile and vulnerable species had ever prospered and survived while far sturdier species of hominids had fallen prey to a simple inability to adapt. Perhaps one day humans might realize how the components of evolutionary theory and natural selection worked within the paradigm of Creation. Then they could focus on learning about the strengths to be found in understanding the unknown.
The thought of Samantha's fragility reminded him of her hauling that big bright orange bag. Emergency gear , she’d said. Toren stopped wondering and ran to get it. He yanked out a smaller red bag labeled First Aid that sat right on top. Thanks to Uriel, he knew at least the basics of human needs and functions.
He examined all the contents of the small bag, only to find none of it of obvious use. Frustrated, he resorted to reading the damn packages, instead of just using his senses and determining what Samantha needed. Being hobbled by the need for secrecy was becoming a serious handicap. Toren had a new healthy respect for the common guardians that looked after the frail species.
He bit open the pack that had the words fever reducer and dumped the two little red and yellow pills into his palm and paused. She would need— The food container had drinks.
He ran to the truck and got it. The snow fell even heavier than earlier, having already entirely obscured his tracks. Trying to plan more than a few seconds ahead for the first time since the blizzard began, he quickly ransacked the truck and grabbed every item he found that looked even remotely useful. If the snow kept falling at that rate, he might not manage to get back to the truck under purely human power. Just pushing the cabin door open against the accumulated snow had been a real task.
The heavy plank dropped into the brackets by the door to secure the entry, keeping the storm , and everything else, out. Toren moved fluidly to the bed and set his burden down. Sliding a bottle of water from the food carrier, he stopped to think. How would he get her to drink it while unconscious?
He could lift her head and shoulders and maybe she would drink when he put the bottle to her lips. He slid one arm under her shoulders and found her clothes were wet. Not dripping of course, but damp enough to be uncomfortable and cold. Combined with the fever, it seemed likely to cause worse problems. He could dry the clothes over the stove. She could stay covered with… what? That disgusting blanket? Unthinkable. The idea of it touching her made his skin crawl.
Toren stood and removed all his clothes except the layer the store clerk had called underwear. Everything was dry but his coat and he hung that over the stove. As soon as it dried, it’d make a good cover and until then, he’d use his shirt to cover her and leave her…underwear on. Surely she had the same as him.
Similar Books
