Her Demonic Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 5) (Reading Sample) by Felicity Heaton (top novels txt) 📕

“I’m tired, I’m hungry and I’m thirsty.”

This was just what he needed. Complaining female was right up there with weepy on the list of things that lit the touch paper of irritation that could easily detonate the fifty-kiloton bomb that was his anger.

“Tough luck. We can’t rest here.”

“My feet hurt.”

Veiron frowned, what little pride he had telling him he wasn’t going to let this one slip. “I offered to carry you. You refused. Again, tough luck.”

“You’re not very nice. I really can’t see what Amelia sees in you,” she snapped and her cheeks blazed. Her gaze zipped to the path, so her black hair fell forwards and obscured her face.

“What Amelia sees in me?” He stopped, aware that he was contravening his own rules about not resting. It wasn’t a rest. It was a pause. A brief punctuation in their trek so he could figure out what the fuck she was babbling about.

Erin kept her gaze downcast and wrapped her arms around her slender frame. “As a lover.”

Veiron spluttered. Not the manliest thing he could have done given the situation but what she had said, and what she clearly thought, had him reeling so hard he was surprised he didn’t fall on his arse.

“Lover?” he said with so much disbelief that she finally looked up at him.

Her amber eyes were huge against her dirty face. “You’re not lovers?”

He shook his head. “No way. No. Marcus would break my balls if I so much as looked at her sideways and she’s not my type.”

Veiron’s eyes disobeyed his direct command not to take Erin in from head to toe. They roamed over her, liking what they saw. Forbidden. Off the menu. He was not looking for a romantic entanglement. He was looking for revenge.

Besides, Marcus would probably kill him for looking at Erin too, even though she was definitely his type. Smart-mouthed, sassy, and bewitching.

“Who’s Marcus?”

Amelia really needed to keep her little sister in the loop. “Amelia’s lover... boyfriend... hell, he could be her husband for all I know.”

Erin’s eyes managed to go a little wider. “She would have told me if she had married. But you said that if Amelia died, you would too...”

Hell, Veiron could see where she had gotten the impression that he and Amelia were lovers now. So was this why she had gone from giving him ‘come hither and let’s party despite my hellish surroundings’ looks to withering glares?

“I was speaking literally,” he said and her frown didn’t lift. “It’s a long story and not one for here. We have to keep moving.”

She didn’t look as though she was going to heed that command. There was no way in this realm that he was going to stand around in the open and attempt to explain, without making him sound more terrifying than she already thought he was by just knowing he was a demon, the whole situation with himself, Amelia and Marcus.

Veiron grabbed her arm and started marching.

Mercifully, she didn’t protest. She kept pace beside him, her gaze boring into the side of his face, burning with questions that he really didn’t want to answer.

If she didn’t like the idea of him being a demon, how was she going to react when she discovered that he was like the one who had taken her from her home and dragged her down into Hell?

Veiron vowed that it would never happen. He couldn’t use his powers in Hell without alerting the authorities so there was no reason for her to find out exactly what sort of man was playing her bodyguard. As soon as he got her safely topside, he would say a few choice words to Amelia, tell Marcus that he could go to Hell on the rescue mission next time, and would get as far away from Erin as possible and as quickly as he could without his wings.

Heck, he would sprint through the jungle and not stop until he reached the nearest airport.

And he would never set eyes on Erin again.

It was how it had to be.

Because a woman like her could never love a demon like him.

Erin stuck to Veiron like glue, so close that she had bumped into his back several times in the past few minutes alone. She had almost tripped him once, accidentally treading on the back of his boot. That had earned her a glare that could have scared the Devil himself. He had told her to keep close to her when they had entered an open area that could have passed as a village. Small black square huts with holes for windows and doors dotted the undulating basalt landscape, upwards of twenty of them. A path wound through the ramshackle buildings. She followed Veiron along it, her gaze darting around, fixing on each black hole in the huts, trying to see if there were things inside watching her from the shadows.

Veiron had said that if she strayed too far from him, they would smell she was mortal and she was high on the list of food preferred by the creatures who dwelled here. Were they the sort of demons that had left those sharp grooves in all the bones she had seen? She didn’t want to meet anything that could do that. Surely, they could see she was mortal?

She glanced up at the back of Veiron’s head, watching the bells on the end of the thong that held his long red hair in a ponytail as they swayed with his heavy steps. He was a demon and he looked human. Most of the time. There had been moments when he had looked at her and she had seen the darkness in his eyes, the crimson that edged them and served as a reminder that he wasn’t like her.

How evil was he on a scale of just a bit wicked to the Devil?

And how did he know her sister?

Erin had tried to ask him about the relationship he had with Amelia but each time he had shot her down, telling her to keep quiet and keep moving. She was beginning to think he was using their current location as an excuse to shut her up. If he said that demons could tell she was a tasty snack by the sound of her voice, she would probably believe him.

Did he eat people too?

She couldn’t hold that one in.

“What sort of things are your favourite foods?”

He looked over one wide shoulder, his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes dark. They brightened a second later, as though he had figured out what she was really asking.

“Babies,” he said.

Erin stopped dead.

He huffed, turned to face her, and the muscles in his jaw ticked beneath his stubble. “I was joking. God, what sort of monster do you think I am?”

Before she could respond, he had turned away and was stalking ahead. Erin shot a nervous glance at the two small black huts either side of her and raced to catch up with him. A little too fast. She almost ran into the back of him and had to use her hands as a buffer. He tensed and snarled when they settled against his lower back.

Erin leapt backwards. No touching. She had got the message loud and clear the first time. He didn’t have to growl at her. Would he have preferred she ploughed into his back?

“You’re not a monster,” she whispered but it didn’t even sound convincing to her. Right now, she wasn’t sure what he was, but she knew she didn’t appreciate jokes about eating babies. “So what do you eat?”

“Down here, I don’t need to eat anything, so you’re safe, okay?” Could he sound any more offended? He had practically growled the words at her.

“What about when you’re not down here?” She moved to walk beside him so she could see whether he really was angry with her. He had expressive eyes that hid nothing, as though he didn’t feel the need to guard his emotions from anyone. If he was angry, the world knew it. If he was happy, they knew that too. She was beginning to think that happy was a rare emotion for Veiron.

“Food... just like you.”

“Why don’t you eat anything down here?” She had expected him to tell her that he never ate, not that he ate part time. She rubbed her stomach as it rumbled, thoughts of food filling her mind. How long had it been since she had eaten? The landscape of Hell all looked the same to her and there was no night or day, so she had lost track of time again. Only her aching feet told her how far she had walked. Too far. She needed to rest before she collapsed from pain or hunger but now wasn’t the best place for stopping so she didn’t mention it. Talking kept her mind off it though, and since Veiron seemed to be in the mood to answer basic questions, she would do her best to learn a little more about her guardian. “Do you pig out when you’re up there?”

“No. It’s the same for all... never mind. Forget it.”

“For all what?” Like hell she was going to not mind it and forget it. The hard set of his jaw said he wasn’t going to answer. Erin reached out to him and his gaze followed her hand. She laid it on his forearm. “Veiron?”

He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. At least he didn’t tell her to get her hands off him this time. Score one for her. If he anticipated her touch, he didn’t shove her away.

“Angels.”

Erin stopped dead again, her fingers tightening around Veiron’s arm. He halted and shifted to face her.

“You’re an angel?” she said and frowned. “But you said you were local...”

He nodded.

“Local and an angel?” Was that even possible? There was so much suffering down here. If he were an angel, why would he tolerate it? Wouldn’t he want to do something to end it?

“Of sorts,” he said, turned on his heel, and kept walking.

Erin stared at his back. An angel without wings. Her gaze looked beyond the black leather scabbard that held his sword against his back and settled on the two long vertical scars highlighted by the matching red and black tribal tattoos on his shoulder blades.

“Has someone cut off your wings?” She hobbled to catch up with him.

He shot her a look that plainly told her to shut up and drop the subject. Like hell. She had gone from wanting to know why her sister knew a demon to why her sister knew an angel, and she wanted answers.

“Oh my God... you’re fallen!”

He turned on her with a snarl.

Something told Erin that it wasn’t the G-word that had upset him, not as it had the Devil. Veiron had used the G-word himself without any obvious anger. The rage that burned in his eyes was because she had struck the nail firmly on the head and driven it hard into some place it hurt.

“Sorry,” she whispered but he wasn’t listening. He was already striding away from her, leaving her exposed to any watching eyes in the huts around them.

Questions burned on the tip of her tongue but the black look on Veiron’s face warned that putting voice to them might make them the last