Demon Chained (Shadowfae Chronicles) Read Online Free
Author: Erica Hayes
the wall and ask him how the hell he'd done that. "Just stay away from me, okay?"
He flitted a few steps after me. "I didn't mean—"
But I didn't wait for another apology. This fae-crazy half-caste knew way too much, and had too much to do with dirty-but-weirdly-sexy-murderer for my taste.
Out of my depth? Sister, you're practically underwater.
I stumbled down the stairs, grabbing the cold steel handrail to keep my feet, and pushed into the crowd. The liquid in my ears thumped in time with the music. I hugged my bag close, safe in the crush. The comforting smells of hundreds of people crashed over me like a salty avalanche, and I sucked them in, filling my lungs over and over to erase the dark taste of fairy blood and the rich, maddening smell of weird. The oxygen rush made my head float and spin, and I squeezed my eyes shut, safe in the press of warm bodies, and let the drunken sway of dancers support me, move me, wash me along.
Bad men. It's always the bad men who want me, the ones who crave excitement and hot blood and the breathless chemical mindfuck of the unknown. Who chase my lamp to the ends of the earth for a chance to test my power, just because they can. The kind for whom giving orders just isn't enough. They have to possess me, dominate me, be my magical master.
The kind who shove guns under my chin with undead fingers, or turn my flesh to smoke with a breath. I mean, hello? How's that for shiver-up-the-spine fascinating?
Why is it always the dangerous ones who turn me on?
I squeezed my bag tightly, the lamp's hard curves pressing into my sweaty palms. Tension cramped in my back and along my arms. Inside me, swollen flesh still ached from the deft stroke of that silvery fae boy's claws. I burned for contact, touching, sensory overload, the electric thrust of sensation along my nerves. Bodies bumped me in the crush, tempting me to open my eyes, but I hardly dared.
Please, for once an ordinary, nice, boring guy. Someone I can trust not to ask questions, whom I can dump in the morning without regret. No surprises. No kink. No haunting memories. Just nice clean ordinary sex, with a nice clean orgasm or two that I'll forget about as soon as I'm done.
Hell, I'm lonely. Is that such a sin, after fifty-odd years in a dark cramped space with nothing but my thoughts?
I took one more numbing breath, and let my eyelids slide apart. The rainbow-lit darkness befuddled me for a moment, shadows dancing, a hundred vibrant smells globbing into one soothing waterfall. Lithe figures undulated, sinew stretching, skin and wing membranes glowing in neon glory. Flashes of warm wet lips, glimmering metal piercings, smooth leather and satin, the dusty glitter of painted lashes.
There, that one. Messy blond elflocks, soft lips, smooth young face with a hint of wistful confusion. Only a human, with comparatively normal clothes, just jeans and a tight T-shirt and a simple silver ring through one earlobe. Icy blue eyes with curling lashes that made me envious. I sidled closer, relaxing, rolling my hips, letting that heart-ripping music thud its release into my veins. Was that a smear of eyeliner? If he was totally into girls, I was a nun. I glanced downwards at some very strokable male shapes. Beautiful, oh yes. Sexy, in a throw-'em-out-when-you're-finished kind of way.
But not fae. Not dangerous. Not dark or angry or corpse-like in any way.
Just what I needed.
I smiled, and bumped his hip with mine, leaning in so I didn't have to yell too loudly. "You here on your own?"
An improbably radiant smile. "Not exactly."
"You are now." I twirled one of his crisp blond locks around my finger, letting my thumb drift along his collarbone. Ragged ends feathered over my knuckles, tingling them with sweet promise, and magic sparked in my blood, a hint of that old Jewel persuasion. Pity it hadn't worked when I really needed it.
"Okay." He didn't even blink. "Can I dance with you?"
"Honey, I'll tell you exactly what you're gonna do." I
He flitted a few steps after me. "I didn't mean—"
But I didn't wait for another apology. This fae-crazy half-caste knew way too much, and had too much to do with dirty-but-weirdly-sexy-murderer for my taste.
Out of my depth? Sister, you're practically underwater.
I stumbled down the stairs, grabbing the cold steel handrail to keep my feet, and pushed into the crowd. The liquid in my ears thumped in time with the music. I hugged my bag close, safe in the crush. The comforting smells of hundreds of people crashed over me like a salty avalanche, and I sucked them in, filling my lungs over and over to erase the dark taste of fairy blood and the rich, maddening smell of weird. The oxygen rush made my head float and spin, and I squeezed my eyes shut, safe in the press of warm bodies, and let the drunken sway of dancers support me, move me, wash me along.
Bad men. It's always the bad men who want me, the ones who crave excitement and hot blood and the breathless chemical mindfuck of the unknown. Who chase my lamp to the ends of the earth for a chance to test my power, just because they can. The kind for whom giving orders just isn't enough. They have to possess me, dominate me, be my magical master.
The kind who shove guns under my chin with undead fingers, or turn my flesh to smoke with a breath. I mean, hello? How's that for shiver-up-the-spine fascinating?
Why is it always the dangerous ones who turn me on?
I squeezed my bag tightly, the lamp's hard curves pressing into my sweaty palms. Tension cramped in my back and along my arms. Inside me, swollen flesh still ached from the deft stroke of that silvery fae boy's claws. I burned for contact, touching, sensory overload, the electric thrust of sensation along my nerves. Bodies bumped me in the crush, tempting me to open my eyes, but I hardly dared.
Please, for once an ordinary, nice, boring guy. Someone I can trust not to ask questions, whom I can dump in the morning without regret. No surprises. No kink. No haunting memories. Just nice clean ordinary sex, with a nice clean orgasm or two that I'll forget about as soon as I'm done.
Hell, I'm lonely. Is that such a sin, after fifty-odd years in a dark cramped space with nothing but my thoughts?
I took one more numbing breath, and let my eyelids slide apart. The rainbow-lit darkness befuddled me for a moment, shadows dancing, a hundred vibrant smells globbing into one soothing waterfall. Lithe figures undulated, sinew stretching, skin and wing membranes glowing in neon glory. Flashes of warm wet lips, glimmering metal piercings, smooth leather and satin, the dusty glitter of painted lashes.
There, that one. Messy blond elflocks, soft lips, smooth young face with a hint of wistful confusion. Only a human, with comparatively normal clothes, just jeans and a tight T-shirt and a simple silver ring through one earlobe. Icy blue eyes with curling lashes that made me envious. I sidled closer, relaxing, rolling my hips, letting that heart-ripping music thud its release into my veins. Was that a smear of eyeliner? If he was totally into girls, I was a nun. I glanced downwards at some very strokable male shapes. Beautiful, oh yes. Sexy, in a throw-'em-out-when-you're-finished kind of way.
But not fae. Not dangerous. Not dark or angry or corpse-like in any way.
Just what I needed.
I smiled, and bumped his hip with mine, leaning in so I didn't have to yell too loudly. "You here on your own?"
An improbably radiant smile. "Not exactly."
"You are now." I twirled one of his crisp blond locks around my finger, letting my thumb drift along his collarbone. Ragged ends feathered over my knuckles, tingling them with sweet promise, and magic sparked in my blood, a hint of that old Jewel persuasion. Pity it hadn't worked when I really needed it.
"Okay." He didn't even blink. "Can I dance with you?"
"Honey, I'll tell you exactly what you're gonna do." I
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