Kindling the Moon Page 65

“It’s still me.” Though gentle, his voice was deeper—so rich, it sent chills up my arms.

He held one of my hands while I tentatively stepped forward and reached for his spiraling horns with my other. My fingertips danced over the surface, inspecting the texture. The horn was surprisingly warm. Living. Not an illusion, but real.

Fascinated, I continued to touch both horns gingerly, as if he were a goat in a petting zoo. When he made a small noise, I became self-conscious. “Sorry,” I mumbled and drew my hand away. Nostrils wide, he gave me a mischievous smile that sent a flutter through my chest.

My face and neck flushed as I laughed nervously, suddenly realizing that the horns and gilded halo were only physical. How could I have forgotten? He could hear me now. Not just my emotions but my thoughts. Everything.

I froze, trying not to think about anything at all. That plan shattered almost immediately; the more I tried to empty my mind, the worse it got. A vortex of random images and thoughts swirled in my brain. Don’t think about the time you slept with that skanky delivery guy who worked at Thai Garden, or when you threw up on the middle couch cushion and just wiped it off and flipped it over, or …

My eye twitched as panic fired through my chest. Was he seeing all this roiling around in my head, like Dorothy watching her family being swept up in the tornado?

“Slow down,” he said. “I can only read surface thoughts.”

“If that’s true, then why did you just tell me to slow down?”

“I can still hear your emotions, remember?”

Oh. That’s right. Crud. Was nothing safe? I was going to be sick.

“You’re not going to be sick,” he insisted.

“Oh, God.”

“Please, Arcadia. I really need to you to be okay with this. I know it’s hard to accept, but I won’t betray anything I might hear in your head.”

“I know that,” I grumbled, “it’s just … I’m a private person. I’m not used to sharing anything with anyone. Emotions are one thing, but this is different. I don’t want you to see something that might embarrass me.”

“I’ve seen all kinds of shit in people’s heads. Believe me, there’s nothing you could think that I haven’t already heard somewhere else.”

I cringed. “Seen it all, huh? You’re like an OB-GYN of the mind-reading world?”

He snorted a laugh. And, surprisingly, that made me smile. I took a few breaths and tried to come to terms with this more invasive side of his knack. As long as he couldn’t poke around in my memories—

“We’ve already done a spell for that.”

I stomped my foot. “Goddammit!”

“Well, we have.”

Ugh. This was more difficult than I expected. I grappled with the magnitude of his ability for a long moment while he waited in silence, watching me. Finally, I said, “Okay, I’ll get used to it eventually. Just try not to pry, and don’t judge me. Be nice.” I folded my arms and looked him over once more. Damn. He was a demon. I mean, I knew that, obviously, but no getting around it now. “Do you have a tail or scales under your clothes?” I asked.

He chuckled softly and shook his head. “Would that make a difference? Is there something you draw the line at?”

Okay, I felt silly now. He was still Lon. Just with horns, that’s all. Right?

Oh, crap. I was dating a demon. Me—a magician. What would my parents say? They wouldn’t be all that thrilled about it, I knew that much. But maybe I didn’t care. Was that bad?

I really liked Lon. He’d saved my life when that Pareba demon was attacking me, and he was helping me save my parents. He’d used up his police favor and was getting my memories back for me. He put up the ward around my house and helped me deal with Riley. Who does all that for someone they’ve known only a couple of weeks? Demon or not, he was a good person. And on top of it all, he was smart and thoughtful. Funny, even, especially for a curmudgeon. We had a lot in common. Okay, and he was damn fine to look at, even now, like this. His halo was oddly beautiful, and in a weird way that I couldn’t really justify, the horns were kinda sexy.

“Well, shit,” he said softly, shaking me out of my thoughts. “Now I don’t know why I was so worried.”

“Let’s not get cocky.” I twisted up my mouth to hold back a smile.

His big hand enveloped mine as he grinned back at me. Then he tilted his head toward the door. His halo left a trail of flames in the night air as he moved. “Ready?” he asked. And I guessed that I was.

He knocked twice at the cave entrance. One of the windows darkened, then a door swung inward. A burst of sound and smoky red light illuminated the doorway as a tall man stuck his head out; his neck was wider than my waist.

“Mr. Butler, nice to see you. It’s been a while.” He opened the door wider in invitation; my eyes dropped to the gun strapped to his side.

“I’m sure you’ve managed without me.” Lon herded me inside, past the beefy doorman, who shut the door behind us without saying another word.

We meandered through a narrow tunnel strung with white lights. After a few sharp turns, it ended and opened into an enormous cavern. The low, rounded ceiling was populated with stalactites hanging only a few feet above our heads, but the room extended in all directions, as big as a gymnasium. Strings of grapefruit-sized globe lights illuminated everything with a crimson glow while casting deep, ominous shadows in dark corners.

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