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

a captive under partial suspicion was an odd feeling. He’d joined the police force and gotten a band of brothers in uniform. He’d been one of them. They’d trusted each other with their lives. With the ATF, it’d been the same, but then he’d gone undercover. After some initial inherent distrust, he’d ingratiated himself with a local biker gang. He’d gone in as a frustrated salesman who’d realized his life was boring and all that was left was working for the man and maybe getting yearly raises that barely covered inflation.

He’d been more believable than he’d hoped. He hadn’t climbed to the top of the biker food chain, but he hadn’t needed to. He’d been able to collect incriminating evidence as a middleman. He’d “sold” drugs like they told him to. They’d accepted him. He’d become one of them. Meanwhile, he’d had a team he worked with. Guys he’d trusted with his life, and as an undercover agent, he’d trusted them with the life of his family.

The team was gone. By the time the trial was over and Johnny “the Bear” Cobb, Chicago biker gang boss, was in prison, his team had dissolved. Agents suffered burnout. Others got promoted. A couple stayed in.

Boone had never been on the outside looking in. It had been his job to be part of the team. What would it have been like had he gone back to work? Would his guys have treated him like Sierra was getting treated? He’d told his wife too much and it’d backfired.

He didn’t know, but he did know there was more to the story and she wasn’t talking for a reason.

No more avoiding her. He got up and opened the door. The light in the bedroom was off, but she wasn’t napping. He was in his gray sweats and white T-shirt. She was also in sweats, sitting on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t remembered to knock. She usually changed in the bathroom like him, but it was like a part of him wanted to catch her with her top off again.

He didn’t flip on the light when he shut the door. He went to the same side of the bed as her and sank down. The grayish-pink color of her sweats looked like it had come from the same line as the pea-green shirt.

It didn’t matter the color she wore, nothing could diminish her beauty, or hide the shadows in her eyes. She wasn’t the pale woman he’d pulled out of the snow, but she was almost as defeated as the woman who’d lingered in bed for weeks after she’d woken.

“Can they protect you?” He had no earthly way to fight demons without hurting a human. On the drive, she’d explained that not all hosts were bad, but regardless, a warrior’s job was to kill the demon and save a human life.

“Yes.” She rubbed her hands together. “And no.” She ran a finger along the healing wound from where Sandeen had cut her. It was shallow. He’d only been after blood; his intent hadn’t been harm. “He could’ve left Alma’s body at any time. But the way he did it . . . doesn’t look good for me.”

“No. It doesn’t. I’m sure that was his goal. It’d be easier for him if we fought Andy than him. Your people need to figure out what Sandeen wants if they’re going to catch him.”

“He won’t be able to hide well if he can’t morph his wings.”

Sandeen would also need a stocking hat for those horns.

“They’ll find him,” she sighed. “I just wish . . . I could help. But all I’ve done is make things worse.”

“What you’ve done is alert people who owe you nothing to a danger they didn’t know about.”

“Boone.” Her imploring gaze cut straight through any delusions he had about why he was here. “If I’d known, at all, that I’d get you into this mess, I would’ve left as soon as I woke up.”

He took her injured hand in his own. “Without a fallen angel and an old woman with a demon, I might’ve stayed in my cabin for years. We’re in this together, but it’s harder when you lie to me.”

Her hand closed around his. “Jagger?”

“I can understand why you’re ashamed. But, Sierra, after the last two weeks, to me, that was a pretty tame revelation.”

“Shame kept me from telling you. You’re a good man and I’m . . .” She ran her thumb over an old scar he’d had since he was a teen and learning to skin his own kill. “I haven’t told them how I was blackmailed, and I can’t tell you.”

He’d spilled his world when he’d found her with that picture. He couldn’t expect her to do the same, but that didn’t stop the hurt from permeating his chest. After all they’d been through, she didn’t trust him. She couldn’t be open with him. The last woman who’d felt that way had ruined her life, his life, and that of their child.

“You said secrets would ruin me. But if it gets out, it’s not just me. I was raised by a single father,” she said softly. “He gave up everything to raise me, and he’s the only other one who knows about me. I didn’t think my birth father knew about me, but then . . . Andy.”

“Do you know who your birth father is?”

A furrow formed between her brows. “I know enough. Because of that secret, I lost everything. I can’t let my real father, Ransom, the male who raised me, lose everything too. Everyone thinks my mother cheated on her mate with him and that’s why he didn’t say anything. Numen likes to pretend we aren’t affected by the same afflictions as humans. Keeping my secret is the only way to keep my father safe. If the senate knew he’d kept it from them all this time . . . We might live for centuries, but forty-eight years of duplicity—”

“Hold on—you’re forty-eight?”

“It’s quite young in our realm, Boone.”

He barked out a laugh. Because of course she was in her forties. “Everyone’s going