Demon's Hunger by Eve Silver Read Free Book Online

favorite color.
    She might have to rethink that.

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    Chapter Four
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    Talyn Baunn hadn't been in a church in about five hundred years. Okay. A hundred, but it felt like five.
    He paused in the doorway, breathing in the scent of wood cleaner and wax. Familiar, a hazy memory.
    Before him stretched row after row of empty wooden pews. He found it odd that the place wasn't locked up tight. Yeah, churches were a place of worship, places where everyone was welcome. Only, they were usually dead—bolted from past midnight until morning because the homeless weren't welcome to sleep there.
    Wasn't that a bitch?
    But the door to San Francisco's St. Helen's Church had swung open on well-oiled hinges at the slightest push. Apparently, the new priest had his own ideas. Young guy. Idealistic. Left the doors unlocked because he thought people should be able to pray at will, even if the urge hit them in the wee hours of the night.
    It made the church a good place to meet. Neutral ground. And demons tended to avoid the holy places of any religion.
    Baunn looked around at the stained-glass windows, truly magnificent works of art. Here, variegated shades of blue framed a bright orange-yellow sun, and there, in the choir loft, was a rose window some two feet in diameter. He turned a full circle. It was beautiful in the meager light of an overcast dawn; he could imagine how splendid it would look filtering the full rays of the afternoon sun.
    Unfortunately, the Ancient preferred shadows, dim light, so he'd chosen a time where the sanctuary was just coming to life. The timing of their meeting wouldn't allow Baunn to enjoy the full view.
    Perhaps he'd come back someday.
    He made his way along the wide aisle to the front of the church, where the smell of wax from the burning votives was stronger. As he slid into the front pew, he felt the shimmer of air that told him the continuum carried a sorcerer to this place. He recognized the signature aura. The Ancient.
    A pretentious title. Baunn knew him as Asher from a time before he had led the Compact of Sorcerers, a time long, long before he had betrayed his every ideal. He had been honorable once.
    Reining in his disdain, Baunn glanced across the aisle.
    The Ancient sat in the opposite pew, watching him with shrewd attention. Draped in simple garments, layers of dark, loose cloth that had neither style nor specific shape, he held his slim frame erect, ready. Of medium height and unremarkable build, the Ancient's appearance was deceptive. He was powerful beyond measure, beyond any one of them alone, save perhaps Ciarran, who had gained power through his demon parasite.
    "Hello, Asher," Baunn said.
    "I am Asher no longer. I am the Ancient."
    Baunn nodded slowly, his lips pursed. Not a good thing when an all-powerful being believed his own hype.
    They sat in silence until the quiet stretched and grew strained.
    "So talk to me," Baunn said. "Tell me about this rift that rips the Compact apart."
    "You are wise to prefer to make your own judgments. Wise to consider the path I propose." The Ancient turned to face him fully. Pale blue eyes, rimmed in navy, pinned Baunn with a knowing gaze, studied him, as though searching for some deep truth.
    "Make my own judgments… yeah, that's part of it," Baunn said after another lengthy silence. "But I guess mostly I was hoping I'd come here and find out that I was wrong, that they were wrong. That Dain and Ciarran got it all ass-backward and you didn't betray everything we exist for."
    "You speak to me of Dain?" the Ancient snarled, an uncharacteristic show of emotion. "He presented me with the face of friendship while in truth he spied upon me, watched me, judged me. He is an illusionist, putting on a false face. He cannot be trusted."
    Uh, yeah. And you can ? Baunn swallowed the words, kept his mouth shut, and listened.
    "I betrayed nothing," the Ancient continued. "I became enlightened . A pact with the Solitary ends the war, ends the perpetual