Demon's Cradle (Devany Miller Book 3) by Jen Ponce

Author:Jen Ponce [Ponce, Jen]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2015-01-18T05:00:00+00:00

***

Liam was awake though looking worse for wear. He’d missed school, Bethy too. My father was gazing at me with curiosity as I appeared from nowhere in my living room. The time for hiding what I could do was gone.

My son lifted his head. “Mom? Is she safe?”

The dimmest of emotions pinged at the sight of my kids. It was better than the nothing I’d expected. I was afraid a lot of that emotion was possessiveness. ‘Mine!’ it said, with a Golum-like hiss. “As safe as I could make her. The threat to her life is gone.”

His eyes dropped and got wide. I realized I’d popped in without washing. My hands were covered in still-tacky blood and my clothes were spattered with it. “You killed him,” he breathed.

“I did.” Had there been a time when I worried that killing someone would turn me into someone I wouldn’t want around my kids? I now was that person, in the flesh, in the bloodied flesh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” I said because those were the words someone would say who felt sorry. I retreated to the kitchen to wash off the blood. It was sticky stuff and it took several hits of soap and scouring with the scratcher to get it off. There were still rust red flakes at the corners of my nails and a fleck in the crease on my wrist. I scratched it away and turned. My dad was there.

“What happened to you?”

“One of the Skriven took my soul.”

“Dear heavens.” He felt for the counter like a dying man and sat heavily on a bar chair. “Dear heavens,” he repeated.

“Don’t worry. I took care of that threat, too.”

He winced, and then he was gasping for air.

“Dad? What’s wrong?” He looked like he was in pain and I supposed he was. I rounded the counter and put my hand on his shoulder, then pushed healing magic into him. Magic pushed back and blew me across the room.

My head snapped into the wall and I saw stars. Liam shouted and Bethy ran to me. “Mom! Are you okay?”

I blinked. Blinked again. My father was moaning. “Call 911,” I told Liam. Brought my hands to my aching head.

“No.” My dad’s voice. “Liam, it’s okay. Put the phone down. I’m okay.”

“Mom’s not,” he said, his not-so-little boy’s voice shaking.

“She’ll be okay. Just give me a minute.”

Then his hands were on my shoulders and magic seeped into me. The ringing in my ears stopped and my eyes stopped aching along with my head. It hit me in the next second that my dad was using magic. My stomach dropped to my toes. “Dad?”

His breath hitched. “My child.” His hand cupped my cheek. “Devany.”

I looked into the eyes of Bran the Forsworn. “It’s you, in that book, isn’t it? You and mom?”

He dropped to his butt beside me, his hand still touching, though my knee now instead of my cheek. “Yes. How could I forget it all so thoroughly? Your mother and I both.

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