Demonkeepers by Jessica Andersen Read Free Book Online

though. This new and improved version of him wouldn’t make the mistakes of his other, weaker incarnation.
    He glanced over as they walked. In the dim light coming from his cottage, her face was a pale oval of smooth, pearlescent skin and features so perfect they could have come from a Victorian cameo. The darkness robbed her eyes of color, but his mind filled in the delicate sea-foam green that matched so well with the sacred stone she was named after. She was Nightkeeper-tall, only a few inches shorter than the six-four he’d recently attained. But where Alexis, Patience, and Sasha often moved with aggressive swaggers, Jade always seemed to glide, serene and elegant and wholly feminine. Maybe it was because she, like Anna, commanded a talent more cerebral than the warrior’s magic, but the comparison ended there. Where Anna was reserved, Jade was open and giving; where Anna wanted to escape her duty and destiny, Jade wanted to be more than her bloodline role. And where Anna stayed away, Jade had come back when the magi needed her. When he needed her, though he hadn’t wanted to admit it, or make the call.
    Her straight, dark hair was longer than it had been before, an empirical reminder of the five, almost six months that had elapsed since he’d last seen her. But he had needed the time to put himself back together on his own terms. He hadn’t wanted to be her patient, didn’t want her to see him the way she did her old clients, with a mixture of empathy and secret inner horror. He’d wanted to be stronger than that, tougher. He’d worked out, hour after hour, forcing himself through increasingly punishing routines as he fought to reclaim his body from the weakness that had plagued him in the wake of the makol ’s exorcism. In doing so, it seemed that he’d triggered something else, something that had made him progressively bigger and stronger. Magic , she’d said, and she was probably right; he’d discussed that possibility with Strike and the others as they had tried to figure out how to unlock the Prophet’s powers. But the question remained: If he’d internalized a connection to the psi barrier that powered the Nightkeepers’ magic, thereby gaining some of their physical traits, why the hell couldn’t he connect to the damned library? He was perfect for the job; what Mayanist wouldn’t give his right nut to get his hands on an artifact cache of the library’s reputed scope? More, he knew how to read the glyphs and interpret the inscriptions, knew what the Nightkeepers needed. He just had to get into the pocket of the barrier where the library had been hidden . . . but so far that had been a big-ass fail.
    He’d shed blood onto the Nightkeepers’ sacred altar and the First Father’s tomb. He’d prayed to gods deafened by the skyroad’s destruction. He’d attempted to uplink with Strike and the others during the spring equinox. Hell, he’d even whacked off onto the damned altar—all that had gained him was an unceremonial mess. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that the next step was Jade. He’d been making plans to go after her, but the royal council had beaten him to it. And as he’d stood in the shadows, eavesdropping, he’d known he wasn’t going to turn her away. He was going to love her as he should have done before—with pleasure and without strings. And, gods willing, he’d find his way to the magic that had become his through accident rather than bloodline destiny.
    The man he’d been before would’ve paused at the cottage door to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind on the short walk. The man he’d become shouldered the door open, tugged her through, and kicked the panel closed behind them.
    His living space began with a small kitchen that was neat and organized-looking, more because he ate up at the mansion than because he was either neat or organized. Not pausing there, he led her to the room beyond: a decent-size TV room that was more his style—or lack