Personal Demons (Desolation Diaries #1) by Ali Cross

Author:Ali Cross [Cross, Ali]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: YA Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Ali Cross
Published: 2015-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

The café brimmed with life, but I dashed toward it, ducking in doorways when someone came too near. Thankfully we were off the tourist track so only a few ever made it into our quarter. I didn’t know the time, but judging by the crowd it couldn’t be any later than three or four. One glance through the window showed Mariel at the counter, which meant Phillipe would be in the back. I took the rear entrance and slipped into Phillipe’s immaculate kitchen.

“Phillipe!” I stood straighter now, not worried about getting caught in my drawers. Phillipe would have a good laugh, sure, but he’d help me out. Maybe he could even help me get Miri back. I had to get her back.

“Phillipe!” I didn’t see him in the kitchen, even though a ball of dough sat unworked in an open bowl. It’d be ruined if he didn’t get his hands on it soon. To the left of the rolling cart of trays, I heard a woman’s laughter coming from the mostly-closed office door.

Phillipe’s low, rumbling voice answered.

“Monseiur Phillipe, you old dog,” I called. I stood outside the door, not wanting to walk in and catch them in the middle of something I’d be better off not seeing. But I had to get his attention. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but can you give me a hand, real quick?”

I waited a beat. Still nothing.

“It’s James.”

The woman laughed and Phillipe said loud enough for me to hear, “Va-t-en, James!”

“Look, I just need—” I pushed the door open a crack. I didn’t mean to, but I really needed his help. My line of sight fell on the desk and chair in the super-small office. The curve of a woman’s back, her skirt hoisted up around her hips as she straddled Phillipe, blocked my view of my friend. His hands moved from the woman’s hips, up her spine, and into her hair—her wild, shoulder length hair. Her hair as red as the flames of Hell.

She turned her head, just enough to see me. Just enough for me to see her. Her green eyes, her full lips curving upward—I backed up, slamming into the cart and knocking a dozen trays to the ground in a clatter. Helena laughed, but I didn’t want to stick around for the meet and greet.

I hurried out the way I’d come in—and then stopped.

“Shit.” I shoved back through the door and stormed into Philippe’s office, determined to get her the hell away from my friend. But Philippe was alone, looking kind of stunned.

“Where’d she go?” I demanded. My voice sounded too loud for the small space, and Philippe jumped.

He cleared his voice and tried to make it look like he’d been working on the papers scattered over his desk. Then he seemed to realize I was a guy and his friend and he had nothing to hide. He stopped messing with the papers and raked his hands through his mop of shaggy hair. “The trays fell and it spooked her. Ran out of here like a-a bat out of hell, as you say.

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