Page 86 of An Unexpected Ascension
“Now what?” I ask.
“Now we wait for dawn.”
At the sound of a snap, a new bed materializes with fresh sheets that smell like lavender rather than spoiled bodily fluids.
“If you can conjure up one bed, then I’m sure you can conjure two.”
He inhales through his teeth. “Ooo, so sorry. Just ran out of gas. One it is, plus, I know how much you love to cuddle.”
“I’d rather die all over again.”
Chapter 27
The Demon
Disarming myself, I lean my sword against the wall, then strip out of my leather jacket. The nights are long, providing just enough time to make all the wrong decisions, to let the monsters roam.
As I find comfort in my new bed, Briar stands at the window, peaking through the curtains.
“Why does Lucifer call you Lynx?”
I stiffen and she senses it, banking it surely as a weakness. I tuck my hands behind my head and cross my ankles, the portrait of cool and calm.
“Why do they call you Briar?”
“Well, it’s my name, but Hermes is yours, isn’t it?”
“It’s the name whispered in Heaven and Hell. It’s who I’ve become. Lynx is a name I suffered while alive.”
“Lynx suits you.”
I hum, “What a mighty nice compliment.”
Whipping her head, she glowers at me. From where I lay, her body is a silhouette, backlit by what little light shimmers throughbetween the curtains. Her clothes hug her curves, the outline of a dagger adorning each, firm thigh.
“Don’t let it go to your head, you could use a little humbling.”
“And I’m sure I’ve found just the angel to help with that. Now, rest up. Tomorrow’s journey will be much worse.”
“Great.”
Stalking over to the far corner of the room, she unbuckles both holsters, tossing them by the foot of my sword. Watching her belongings join mine elicits a flutter in my stomach.
Revulsion, distaste, hate? Yes, perhaps all those things.
She reeks of tension as she slips her near bare body under the covers next to me and my heart thunders with a suppressed rage, or so I tell myself. Not a single breath escapes her as she lies paralyzed with discomfort.
“What did you see? In your vision,” I finally ask.
Clearing her throat, she tells me, “The tree. I saw it. The awful, horrible tree spearing upright out of the center of an ancient skeletal being. That’s all.”
“Did you see the Mortifier?”
She shakes her head.
“Okay, tomorrow we continue.”
Rolling to my elbow, I hover over her. Staring back at me are two cold cut gems, ready to tear me to shreds if given the chance. With a featherlight touch that she hates so much, I brush my forefinger along her cheekbone, a subtle blush following. Then, I kiss her. Gentle, soft, sensual. Our lips barely brush, a quiver to hers, a smirk on mine.
