Demon Huntress: Book 3 of the Venandi Chronicles ( An Urban Paranormal Romance Series) by Sara Snow

Author:Sara Snow [Snow, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sort1
Published: 2021-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

13

Jacob

I found myself going to the training room more and more frequently while Carter and Georgia were off in Paimon’s palace together. I already had a consistent workout schedule that I’d stuck to for years, but with the pent-up anger that I found overwhelming me more often than not, I craved a way to release it. My bloody knuckles, destroyed boxing gloves, and tattered punching bag seemed to be the physical evidence of it.

So much was going wrong. I was missing my dad, whose advice I needed more than ever. I was missing Georgia, too. Even though she wouldn’t look at me the way I looked at her, her presence still made me smile. It made me angry that I let her get to me like that, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t choose to love her, and though I could make the choice to remain friends with her despite her romantic disinterest in me, that little bastard Carter’s existence drove me up the damn wall. Like every moment they spent together was a direct attack intended to mock me.

The only other thing that had brought me any comfort recently was reading in my dad’s library. If I was going to remain the leader of the Venandi, I had to do my studying. There was so much to go through and so little time before all of this knowledge would be crucial. I had started with a few open books that my dad had apparently been in the middle of reading, absorbing as much as I could from them.

A few things stuck out to me from those books and from a few others that I had found on his many shelves. One detailed a practice for banishing, a way to more powerfully and effectively banish demons from the world that must have been closer to the method my father used. I studied it, rehearsing its phrasing when I worked out in the training room, practicing manifesting the intention in my head.

Another thing that I found in the books made sense of something I’d been wondering about ever since we left El Paso. I was still hung up on the priest, the cops, and the mechanic who believed me instantly when I told them about our cataclysmic fight with demons, which even I knew sounded insane. According to the book, it seemed to be some sort of specific power, which my dad’s writing referred to as “angelic veracity.”

There was a lot to decipher, but the main points seemed to be that this power existed as a residual from the angels’ important service as messengers of God. According to my dad’s notes, the ability was the foundation of their communications with humans back when that sort of thing occurred more frequently. Since angels could only tell the truth, it seemed that God saw fit to bypass a human’s need for critical thought when being told something divine, making it much easier to give messages to them. The notebook specified that the

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