Demon Fire (The Angel Fire Book 3) by Marie Johnston (top 10 novels of all time TXT) 📕

“Sierra. My name is Sierra.” Would he want her last name? He wouldn’t find any information on her if he searched.

But all he said was “Your memory’s intact, then. How’d you get out here?”

“Where is here?”

He swore softly.

“I didn’t lose my memory,” she clarified, her voice getting stronger. The part of her that enjoyed some conversation, no matter the subject, was embarrassing. This was her punishment. She wasn’t on Earth to make friends. “I just don’t know where I am.”

“How could you not know?” His tone remained even. They could be talking about how the sun rose and set every day.

Chewing over what she was going to say, she squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t sense malice. If he’d rescued her, he should get some answers. Starting her new life on a pile of lies wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t like she’d thought about what was going to happen once she was dumped on Earth. She’d done everything not to think about it. It’d been her problem.

It wasn’t just her right now. It was Boone. “I don’t recall the attack or how I got here, wherever here is.”

Guilt churned in her stomach until nausea threatened to make her gag. When was the last time she’d eaten? She’d been fed regularly in her cell, awaiting her punishment, but the stress had made it hard to eat.

“The attack,” he murmured as if testing her lie for himself. Perhaps he wasn’t human if he doubted her story when she was in a mutilated heap. “But you know you were attacked.”

“Wasn’t I?” She wanted to tell him she’d been punished and he could take her back to wherever he’d found her. I betrayed my realm, got angels hurt, and got kicked out. Leave me alone. Please. But the words stuck in her throat.

“Who are you and where are you from?”

Why did lying feel like a long, treacherous trip down a road that had no turnoffs? “Sierra. From Vegas, but I was planning to move.” There. She was sticking close to the truth. She had been sort of living in Las Vegas. She’d often set up her technical headquarters wherever her team’s missions took them.

“Move to where?”

Was he fishing to see if she knew where this log cabin was located? “Anywhere. I was . . . I am homeless.” The lies rolled out easier. “Had a fight with my boyfriend and he’d been controlling everything for so long that I just left with nothing. I caught a ride with anyone who looked like they wouldn’t rape me and . . . well . . .”

“Were you raped?” Even tone, steady voice. The guy could be a robot. A robot that smelled like the forest and had the most pleasing growl she’d ever heard.

“No.” She’d been oh-so-willing. She wished her memories had been taken with her wings.

“Montana.”

“What?” She tried to turn her head, but winced. It wasn’t her back. She was stiff and sore in a way she’d never experienced.

Right. Because she no longer had her normal healing abilities. She would mend slower, like a human.

“You’re in Montana. There’s a storm and you’re nowhere near an interstate.” Of the few emotions he allowed in his voice, accusation rang loudest through the cabin.

Irritation flashed through her. She’d had a day and she couldn’t even fall and be alone and miserable. Sure, he was apparently responsible for her life and the roof over her head, but her tolerance for male crap was extremely low at the moment.

“This might surprise you, but I really don’t care if you don’t believe me. I don’t know what happened, okay? I just know my back hurts and I’m stiff and sore.”

He was quiet for a beat. “The only liberties I took were to cut open your top and try to clean your wounds. A few of them go pretty deep, but nothing major was cut.”

“Thank you.” Something pretty damn major was cut, just not life threatening. Losing her wings was life changing.

There was movement, soft footsteps. On her side, she couldn’t see all of him. Dark blue jeans covered thick thighs and a flannel plaid shirt was tucked into them at a trim waist. Whoever he was, he kept in shape.

She shifted enough to look up. A mountain of a man towered over her. From his brawny shoulders to his bushy beard, he was everything intimidating to a hurt female. Given the dimness of the room and the way shadows clung to him like a second skin, she should be terrified. But she wasn’t. His gaze was as steady as his voice, but he couldn’t mask the wariness in his brown eyes like he could with his tone.

He didn’t trust her, and he didn’t want her in this cabin. From the way he was dressed, it was winter and the storm must’ve been full of snow. He hadn’t wanted to rescue her, just like she hadn’t wanted to be rescued. Yet here they were, stuck together.

From what little she’d witnessed, he was a good man.

And relief seeped in as she realized she’d been granted some time to adjust to her surroundings, to not have to deal with anyone or anything besides one grumpy human.

Nice to see she continued to be a coward no matter what realm she was in.

She hadn’t been strong enough to reveal her secrets and face the consequences, choosing blackmail instead. She hadn’t been strong enough to keep from sleeping with the enemy. She wasn’t strong enough to look at her new world and see its bleak expression as it looked back.

His hands clenched and unclenched but there was no aggression in the move. He was uncomfortable around her. “Do you think you’re injured anywhere else?”

Putting him at ease was the least she could do. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the rest of her body that wasn’t her aching back. “No,” she said, opening her eyes once again.

He drew back. He might’ve taken a step but the wall was right there. “Do you need to use the