Demon Fire (The Angel Fire Book 3), Marie Johnston [books suggested by bill gates TXT] 📗

Her stomach cramped and she put her slice down.

“There’s more than enough for both of us,” he said. “We missed lunch, so eat.”

It wasn’t even ten p.m. The more food she ate, the harder it was to keep her eyes open. “It’s not that.”

He chewed and waited for her to continue. That was what she liked about Boone. He didn’t push her until she needed more than a nudge. He didn’t coddle, but he took care of her. He didn’t ask her to pretend to be anything she wasn’t. She craved that, and he should know why the accident bothered her so much.

“Harlowe’s my sister.” The tension in her belly uncoiled. Another secret was out. She hadn’t told the person who should hear it the most, but Boone was a neutral party. He hadn’t been lied to his whole life, not like Harlowe. He wouldn’t understand that Sierra was the reason Harlowe hadn’t grown up with a mother.

Boone put his food down. “She doesn’t know.”

“She thinks her mother was killed in the Mist by a demon.”

“Harlowe’s older?” Sierra nodded and understanding dawned in his eyes. “Her mother had to hide to have you?”

“My father—Ransom—found her in the Mist, giving birth. She wasn’t able to tell him much before she died, but she begged him not to tell her mate and daughter what had happened, not to tell them that she’d died having a baby.” Sierra took a drink of her soda. The bubbles helped center her. Knowing what had happened and saying it out loud were nothing alike. Someday, she’d love to tell the complete truth. “He and one of his warriors were fighting two archmasters and a sylph. Harlowe’s mother was enough of a distraction, a shock, that Father’s partner was killed. The demon used her own angel fire on her.”

“And he told everyone that your mother died fighting the demon?”

She nodded, grateful Boone could figure everything out quickly. “Harlowe’s mother died a hero and everyone assumed the other warrior had died by her own hand. Her own mate had walked into the fire months earlier, so everyone thought that’s what had happened. There were no remains to say differently.”

“Walked into the fire?”

“The fountain of angel fire in the middle of our realm. It’s our voluntary out from a mostly immortal life.” She picked up her pizza. The will to eat wasn’t there but her stomach demanded more food.

“Harlowe might be worried that the phone is compromised.”

Typical Boone. He wasn’t going to dwell on the backstory. He processed the information and moved on.

Had his wife understood how he was? His work was his life. It was how he expressed himself. He worked hard because he cared hard. From what he’d said, Sierra guessed his wife had interpreted it as him not caring enough for her. A lack of communication between two different personalities with horrific results.

“It’s why I haven’t sent a message that we’re okay,” she replied. Thinking too hard about Boone and how love had failed wasn’t going to help her.

“We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

She nodded and started a fourth slice. At this rate, she was going to dig into Boone’s half—and drink his water too. But it was better than the perma-queasy state she’d been in for the last couple of months. “Nighttime in Sin City isn’t the time to outsmart demons.”

“Too many humans causing trouble all on their own.”

They shared a quick smile and a spark kindled in her belly. They’d crashed and fled, and they still wore the street’s grime, but the way his eyes crinkled in the corners? He had never looked hotter. His blue jeans and plain black T-shirt showed far too many muscles than were good for her to see.

Was it the hormones? With her newly rediscovered appetite, her sex drive could be firing up too. Boone had been giving her the warm fuzzies since she’d woken up after her fall and looked into his dark eyes. But this feeling crept beyond warm and headed into edgy territory.

Instead of running from it, she let it sink in. Enjoyed how the heat curled like tiny tendrils through her body until it settled into a steady thrum between her thighs. Boone didn’t have to know she was turned on. He didn’t have to know that the last time she’d been with someone, it’d been motivated by disgust and anger. Helplessness and desolation. She’d wanted justice, she’d wanted revenge, knowing she was owed neither of those things.

Her attraction to Boone was the opposite. He was a good man. He made her feel worthwhile. He helped her without expecting anything in return. For a fallen angel who deserved all the shit rolling her way, Boone was a treasure. He was hers, if only for a time.

Soon, she’d do what she had to. She’d find a way to free him from her mess and he’d live a life worthy of his selfless soul. She’d just have to do it before he realized she wasn’t worth helping.

A slight shifting on the bed roused Boone to consciousness. The patterned material of the curtains allowed some light to filter in. Sierra had curled tight into herself, her arms hugged into her chest and her knees pulled up.

He sat up on an elbow. “Are you in pain?”

“Sorry I woke you.”

“It’s not like either of us can sleep decently on this mattress.” The sidewalk might be softer, and warm from the sun. “Is something hurting?”

“No, I’m just cold.”

When they’d entered the room, he’d taken one look at the comforter and hadn’t wanted it to touch Sierra’s satiny skin. That had left the sheet and a blanket as thin as the sheets. Except for the night she’d slept against him, he’d been sleeping over the blankets in the safe house. But it wasn’t enough to keep her warm.

“Here.” He rolled off the bed and crawled in behind her. Spooning her, he opened his arms as she wiggled closer. He held back a groan. Her ass was doing all the