The Lariat (Finding Justus Series) by Ashley Dotson Read Free Book Online

Cyrus was looking at me, knowing exactly what happened.
    His eyes were waiting for mine to return.
    “He was stronger than me. He still is,” Cyrus clarified, but my mind was still fuzzy.
    “How did you do that? How did you pull me in? I’m awake.” My stomach fell to my feet, taking my brain with it.
    Throne. Stronger. Scar. He was hinting at the absurd. The impossible. Wasn’t he?
    “I’m sorry about that. Some memories have a power all their own. And I’m sorry to tell you,” He frowned his words leaving no doubt, “the daemon after you, or this other individual who has yet to be determined, is Samael.”
    It was a mere whisper within but my daemon shrunk back, its hunger now extinguished.
    I shuddered from feeling its own horror.
    The devil himself.

 
     
     
    7
     
     
     
    “Thank God you’re back. We gotta go,” Ben poked her thumb toward the window, “Who was that dropping you off in the effing awesome car? I would chew him up and spit him out. Ooh , better yet, you could. I know it’s been a while, huh? And it’s not like you’re getting any younger.”
    I smiled at her exuberance. What she lacked in subtlety she made up for with sincerity. Bennet Taylor was my best friend. I would do anything humanly or inhumanly possible for her.
    “It’s no one,” I lied.
    “That’s not no one . You’re already blushing.”
    “Fine. It’s no one I want to talk about yet.” I clarified.
    She made a noise and mumbled, “Well that’s not gonna last long around me.”
    I changed the topic before she could weasel out any more information. “Are we ready to go?”
    “Almost,” Ben was examining a camera lens before putting it into an oversized black bag.
    I agreed to help Ben with her final portfolio. She was an art major with an emphasis in photography. In a few weeks the graduating art majors were preparing their best pieces for a show in a gallery downtown. It was also a major benefit for the college, and Who’s Who of the San Antonio art world would be there. I wasn’t sure where Bennet wanted to establish herself. The only thing that was awaiting her at home was an over-involved mother that needed to find a hobby now that her daughter was officially a grown-up.
    I grabbed an apple and a bottle of water for the road. We were headed to one of the oldest high rises downtown- The Montrose. With its grand steeple, tall windows and gothic architecture, it was unique among the downtown Spanish inspired buildings. It was also condemned. Bennet has badgered the city for an entire year to no avail. They would not let some young college kid photograph a building with unstable rotting floors and walls that could go with a strong wind. The building had been on the list to be demolished numerous times, but the historical society always managed to get the final decision tabled every time it was brought up at city council meetings. I knew this only because Ben had been dying to get in there from the moment she stood in its massive shadow.
    All that, and it was apparently haunted.
    Daemons probably. Great.
    My own daemon relished the thought of killing a few, but it was two-to-one in my head, angel and human against daemon, and that request fell on deaf ears every time.
    “How did you get approval for this anyway?” I wondered aloud, not a mind reader like Cyrus.
    “I told you, remember?” Ben was avoiding my stare.
    She was walking quickly, her little legs still no match for my longer strides, “Remind me.”
    She said nothing, only attempted to walk faster. She was staying silent for a reason. I quickly surmised she didn’t have permission, and now she knew I knew too.
    “Ben. Really?” She was about to get into some trouble and I was glad I was there to stop her. I stood on the sidewalk, breaking the strides of many tourists around me, “Hell no to this stupid plan.”
    Ben looked around and then walked over to me, “It’s not stupid, but you’re right. Quit being such a pansy-ass and come on.