Demon Bound by Meljean Brook Read Free Book Online

hair. “Sh—I mean, ‘Heck, yes.’ ”
    Alice stared at him. At least, she mused, her histrionics no longer threatened. “Come, then. Mind your step.”
    She walked past the threshold, but didn’t hear him follow. She turned and found him with an odd expression shading his eyes. Realization or amusement—she couldn’t tell.
    “What is it?”
    “The way you move. I couldn’t work it out before. But it’s—” He strode forward, his joints working as if he were fashioned of pistons and pulleys. “You don’t slow down or speed up by making your muscles move slower or faster. No, your muscles are moving fast all of the time—so your speed depends on how long you wait between movements. Like a pendulum that hangs in the air before swinging back down. When you go slow, the wait is long, even though the actual movement is fast.” He stopped in the center of the room and nodded, looking pleased with himself. “And that was why when you moved quickly, fighting the demon, it was smoother. Not so jerky.”
    Alice squelched her sudden self-consciousness. What did she care of his opinion? “It’s efficient.”
    “Maybe, but it’s also creepy as—Never mind.” He set the box of mice next to her laptop. “Drifter won about fifty dollars from me last month because I keep saying stuff like this. I don’t know what happens when women are around. There’s a filter between my head and my mouth—but it only lets the stupid shit out.” His mouth twisted, then he smiled with wry humor. “Obviously.”
    So they were both uncomfortable. That suited her. He would probably leave soon. And until he did, she’d take pleasure in his discomfort as retribution for causing hers.
    His gaze began to sweep the large room, curiosity leaking from his psychic scent. Alice crossed her arms, wishing that she’d vanished the contents of her quarters into her cache. The sketches and photographs filling the white marble walls, the painted vases, the bronze and stone figures were not just artifacts—they recorded the past twenty years of her research. The past twenty years of her life. They were not meant to be put on display in this intimate context.
    Jake moved closer to a Minoan vase, crouching to examine it.
    Alice’s fingers twitched. Where was Nefertari? Likely sleeping upstairs. Oh, if only the novice could not detect the use of her Gift, she would rouse the spider.
    She’d use other means, then. Utterly conscious of the motion of her body now, resenting it, Alice crossed to the arch leading from the main room. “Come. Learning how I use the vampire blood will be more stimulating than that vase.”
    He glanced at her in a distracted manner. “Actually, I’d rather—”
    “Come,” Alice repeated, and walked into the next chamber. Square and high-ceilinged, the room was empty but for the tall wooden frames she’d constructed, and the giant orb webs filling them like silk screens.
    Jake’s reluctance didn’t turn into fear when he saw the webs and the large spiders weaving them, but more of that maddening curiosity.
    Alice found it difficult to wish him gone when he took such genuine interest.
    “Holy mama,” he said softly, tilting his head to study the spotted brown spider.
    “These are the Nephila ,” Alice said, plucking the gossamer threads. Nero raced along the strands toward her fingers. “And though their names are similar, they have no relation to the nephilim.”
    Jake glanced at her sharply, as if trying to determine whether she was joking or lecturing. “And does she have a name?”
    “He. It is Nero,” Alice said, and with a small push of her Gift, she urged him onto her palm. It would confuse and disturb him to remain in his web while she gave her demonstration.
    “A male? Aren’t they usually—” He lifted his hand, thumb and forefinger a short distance apart.
    “Smaller than females? Yes. Shall I introduce you to his mother?” When he gave her another of those sharp glances, she relented. “It