Awakened by a Demoness Read Online Free Page B

the cross on his right inside wrist as he studied her, putting her subtle nuances to memory while his mind traversed back over everything she had done. She feared him, but she was curious about him too. Why?
    He had never met a demon who had openly approached him before, seeking him out. She hadn’t known he wouldn’t strike her down, so what had possessed her to come to him and provoke him?
    She was either braver than he believed or foolish.
    He edged closer to her and leaned his back against the stone wall of the building joined to the steps that led up to the raised pathway where she sat, swinging her legs and almost taking out the eyes of several of her suitors with the spiked heels of her black leather knee-high boots. One of the males offered another pewter mug to her, and she took it with a wide smile and winked at him. The wolf shifter practically panted in response, and he was surprised the male didn’t howl in victory, sure he would be the one to bed the female.
    Dear lord, she would probably bed them all at once if she had her way.
    She seemed a virile, wicked little creature. Wicked enough to offer her body to an angel.
    He reminded himself that she had merely been teasing him, but it didn’t stop a disturbing ache from starting inside him, a dangerous sort of hunger that he fought to suppress, putting it down to her teasing ways and her irritating him until his guard had dropped, allowing that teasing to affect him.
    He jammed his right hand back into the pocket of his black jeans and ran his left over his unruly blond hair, brushing the finger-length strands back from his face. It was getting too long, but he had been too caught up in his hunt to find the time to have it trimmed.
    The demoness flicked a glance his way over her left shoulder, one that she had no doubt meant to be covert but had been blatantly obvious. She toyed with her silvery tankard and went back to flirting with her brood of males.
    He focused on her, centred himself and purged all emotion as he allowed calm to sweep into his mind and his soul, emptying them both. When he had found his balance in amidst the silence, he called on his other gift, the one that was rare among angels now.
    The ability to read intentions.
    It was slow to come as always, steadily building inside him as he focused on the target he wanted to read. The demoness.
    He wanted to see if she had come to this place to merely enjoy the festivities or whether she had a different agenda.
    His gift triggered.
    Nothing.
    He frowned, put it down to distance, and moved a few steps closer. He focused on her again, called on his gift and let it wash through him.
    Again, nothing.
    His frown grew deeper, and he tried again. And again. Every time, he couldn’t pick up anything from her, but he could read the males at her feet like open books. They were thinking about being the one who would take her back home, or to a nearby room or alley.
    One seemed rather intent on seeing all of her tattoo, and that desire drew his gaze back to her legs. He couldn’t see her right one from this angle, with her slightly in front of him on the raised stone platform beyond the steps to his right, but he could catch the red tips of the swirls that arced over her right hip to the small of her back.
    The black cross on his wrist burned. He idly rubbed his thumb over it, trying to soothe the mark. He knew there was a demon present, it didn’t have to keep reminding him. He wasn’t here to hunt her though. He was here on a mission.
    A mission he was ignoring while he tried to figure out a demon of all creatures.
    He pushed away from the wall and turned to leave.
    “Can you do me a little favour?” The demoness’s voice curled above the crowd, soft and gentle, a flirtatious edge to her English. “I need some info.”
    That arrested his steps and he frowned as he listened hard, struggling to hear her over the noise of the chatter of those in the busy square and the music. What was she up to?
    He