Deliver Me from Darkness: A Novel of the Paladin Warriors by Tes Hilaire Read Free Book Online Page A

Karissa scrambled off the chair, putting it between her and him. His flint gray eyes narrowed as if trying to decide what his next move should be. She was struck again that his eyes didn’t quite match the face. The face itself had a handsome, well-defined bone structure with devil-may-care dimples that could daze even the most feministic woman’s mind, but the eyes spoke of a hardness derived from a wealth of life experience. If she’d had to judge him on his eyes alone, she’d have thought him honorable. In this case, actions—bringing her to a vampire’s den—spoke louder than words.
    “I’m not going to hurt you.”
    “No?” Oh yeah, witty come back, that.
    “No.” He took another tentative step.
    She tensed and shifted her weight to the balls of her feet, ready to spring.
    He stopped again, sighing. “I want to help you. And by God, you do seem to need help.” There was that curve of the lip again as he glanced at the massacred cushion on the floor. “Roland’s going to be pissed.”
    “Then help me,” she ground through gritted teeth, “by letting me out of here.”
    “Every underworld creature known to man is hunting you out there.” He cast his hand out, gesturing to the blank wall—as if the outside world was right behind it. Probably was— now if I could just get to it. “Getting out of here wouldn’t be very smart,” he continued. “And since you came to me for help, I have to assume there are some brains to go with the gorgeous face.”
    Yeah, as if that were going to work. With big brown eyes, mud-splattered freckles, and what could be best described as a cherub face, she was more the she’s-so-cute, pinch-her-cheeks kind of pretty. Not gorgeous. “Don’t try to flatter me.”
    “I’m not. I’m simply telling you the truth. Just as I’m telling you the truth about the dangers waiting for you outside. Just as I’m telling you the truth when I say you have nothing to fear from me. I want to help you.”
    Karissa tipped her head to the side, her eyes narrowed as she tried to read his sincerity. She’d always considered herself a decent judge of character, not the best, but decent. Papa had been the best—it helped to be empathic. Karissa hadn’t inherited the full extent of his talent, but occasionally she could get a read on a person’s true intentions. Especially if she were touching them and the emotions behind their intent were strong.
    She couldn’t get a read on Logan right now. No contact. And he was holding himself carefully under control, his features blank. Still, she was alive and unharmed, so that had to stand for something.
    And, even if it doesn’t, pretending to believe him is certainly a better way to find out what his plans for me are.
    He must have seen some of her tension ease because he smiled, those dimples flashing. “Do you think we could sit down and talk about this like reasonable people?”
    Her chin came up, not liking the implication that she hadn’t been reasonable thus far. Maybe true—she glanced at the destroyed cover of Redemption —but still. “Okay. Where shall we sit? Around the cozy little island in a kitchen that has no real food, or in here, chatting around the nonexistent fire? Because, you know, the owner is a vamp and doesn’t eat, and for some reason,” her gaze drifted to the curled bits of burnt paper on the floor by the fireplace, “he doesn’t trust me not to burn his apartment down around him.”
    “Yeah, Roland has a thing about fire.”
    “And light. And, oh, human blood.”
    Logan’s eyes shuttered, the light of amusement dimming. “He’s not like that.”
    “Really,” she drawled.
    “I’d trust him with my life.”
    He spoke with solemn conviction, his steel-blue eyes deep with emotion. It was enough to convince her that it wasn’t an act.
    She gnawed her lip, feeling even more uncertain than before. Could she have read this entire situation all wrong? Had she truly spent the last who knew how many hours