Demon Fire (The Angel Fire Book 3) by Marie Johnston (best authors to read .txt) 📗

all of Andy’s resources, he hadn’t been able to get a picture of Sierra. Sandeen had seen a few of the other team members Sierra had worked with, but not her.

She wore a gray stocking hat and a simple black coat. He didn’t know what was going on between these two, but either someone had kicked their dog or they were stressed about something.

The man said a few words Sandeen couldn’t make out and the woman nodded, looking around. As she turned toward his vehicle, Sandeen sank lower and tipped his head down but kept his gaze on her the entire time. Her eyes glittered blue in the sunlight.

It was the way she scanned the road and the parked cars that pumped adrenaline through his veins. She was casual but cautious, like she was worried she was being followed.

Or like she was trained.

She turned and he straightened, leaning over the passenger seat to keep from losing sight of her. The man held open the door to the pharmacy. The woman’s head stayed down as she walked inside.

Sandeen’s gut churned and it had nothing to do with the coffee from earlier. He scrambled out as fast as his old bones would allow. His shuffling gait down the sidewalk made him want to scream, but no one paid him any mind, which was one of the main reasons he chose old ladies over and over again. He’d been around humans long enough to know that if he wanted to be invisible, an old or overweight woman couldn’t be beat.

The warm air of the pharmacy welcomed him into the store. The man was running his card through the self-checkout. The woman had bagged an item and it was clutched in her hand like she was strangling the bag for mouthing off.

Shit, they were doing an in-and-out dash. Sandeen was about to turn and lurch back to the car. If this woman could see creatures from Daemon, he had to leave. Now. He also couldn’t rule this woman out at a glance. He’d need to follow them. His left knee was complaining as he changed direction when the woman spun on her heel and charged for the back of the store.

The guy holstered his card in his wallet and shoved his hands into his heavy-duty work jeans. He turned, nodded at Sandeen, and stepped to the side to wait by the door.

Well, that was an unexpected boon. The man didn’t see him as anything more than another shopper, and the woman was going toward the sign that read restroom. Sandeen weaved through the aisle as casually as he could.

He hadn’t expected to ever find Sierra. If this was her, what would he do? Andy had him by the short hairs and the human’s sharp little mind had plans for Sandeen that were only going to benefit Andy. Sandeen hadn’t survived his time as a Daemon outcast to get used up by a shifty human. He hadn’t looked too hard for Sierra, but if this was her, he needed a plan.

First, he had to determine if this was the fallen he hunted.

He tested the handle to the women’s bathroom. Locked. It must be a one-seater. He slumped against the far wall and waited. One of the pharmacists came out of the back door. He smiled.

“Hey, Alma. Nice to see you out,” he said before disappearing into the men’s room.

Sandeen smiled, grateful the man’s need to piss was greater than his need for small talk.

Minutes ticked by. The pharmacist came out of the restroom, straightening his tie and leaving damp fingerprints all over it. He’d washed his hands at least.

He glanced at the closed women’s room. “Feel free to use this one.”

Sandeen winced like the thought of being in the same room as a urinal was repellent. The pharmacist gave him a go ahead and be a picky old lady shrug and went back to work.

Another couple minutes ticked by and Sandeen cleared his throat as loud as possible without breaking into a cough. He couldn’t stand here all day. Alma’s knees couldn’t take it.

The sink ran and the paper towel dispenser sounded.

Finally.

The door opened and Sandeen had to do a double take. The woman’s face was wan, her eyes red rimmed. She hastily brushed a tear off her cheek and was about to sidle out without making eye contact.

He didn’t know what had happened in there and he didn’t care. Before she could get away, he said, “Sierra, at last we meet.”

Her shoulders stiffened and she turned slowly. Well, well, well. His gut hadn’t lied.

Her hands were loose at her sides, a slight bend to her knee. You could kick the warrior out of the realm . . . Another benefit to choosing an older host. A Numen wouldn’t kick the host’s ass to get to him.

She took her time facing him, but the burn of her perusal hit him first. She’d taken her time on purpose. Was the real him harder to make out when she was looking right at him?

He kept his expression placid, both that of his host and whatever Sierra could see of him. “We have mutual acquaintances I think you should know about.”

With speed he didn’t expect, she shoved him into the restroom she’d just exited and kicked the door shut behind them. His knees protested the sudden movement and his hands throbbed, trying to loosen the grip she had on his winter coat.

“How the hell did you find me and what the hell do you want?” she growled. The angst in her eyes when she’d left the room was gone. Her gaze, still haunted, was calculating. She couldn’t yank him out and whisk them both to the Mist to fight to the death anymore, but that didn’t stop her from trying to figure out how to kill him.

Good luck with that, fallen. “You gave yourself away to some demons frolicking in town, I’m afraid. I was sent for you.”

“Why? Who?”

He grinned. Someone was cornered and desperate and it wasn’t him. He could