almost as if she was his gravity. His heart began to beat a little faster. The comfort from her scent slowly morphed into an intense desire to take her into his arms. He managed to stop himself from entering the room. Instead, stood in the doorway, clutching the frame.
Mine . The demon purred. It was a low vibration right under Sarid’s sternum.
He whirled, rubbing his chest, not wanting the Other to lay eyes on her.
“Sarid, meet Keandre’s mother,” the pastor called out.
Run. Through the kitchen. Out the back door. Don’t stop. He paused. Wait. What? Keandre was Asjhone’s child?
He startled. Keandre’s hand was tucked into his.
“This is my mom,” he said and pulled Sarid around.
Asjhone’s gasp was inaudible except to him. She’d stilled, eyes growing wide.
“Hello. Again.” His voice was hoarse.
The choghen’s gaze moved from Sarid to Asjhone then back to Sarid. Understanding dawned. “You met at the hospital.” Then he glanced at them once more.
Asjhone stared at the older man.
Mine. The demon growled. Mine look at us. Not him.
A red haze fell over Sarid’s vision. He inhaled sharply. Dropped Keandre’s hand. Reeled back.
Keandre looked up at him.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
No. No. No. No. Sarid clenched his hands. Squeezed his eyes shut. Shook his head.
“Keandre, come here.” Asjhone’s voice was only a whisper, but it screamed with fear. The boy moved across the room. “Is he okay?” she asked the pastor.
The choghen said something to Asjhone.
He doesn’t speak to Mine. He doesn’t speak to Mine. Look. What are they doing? Open our eyes. See what he’s doing to Mine.
“Sarid?” The pastor’s tone was quiet.
Steps forward. A light touch on his arm. “Calm.”
The demon roared. He’s tricking you. The Righteous Man will take her away from us. Wants me to leave so you’ll be weak. You must protect her. Open our eyes. Don’t let her out of our sight.
Sarid doubled over, shook his head back and forth. Not going to change. Not going to change.
The pastor slowly stroked his upper back. “You’re still here, Sarid. It’s only you.”
He reared up. The pastor gasped. Eyes now open, Sarid leaned close to the choghen’s face. Everything was washed in red. “You’re wrong. It’s never just me.” His voice was distorted, a half-growl.
Blood drained from the choghen’s face. The older man’s heart tripled in speed.
The demon laughed. More.
Sarid moaned. He ran through the kitchen and out the backdoor.
Chapter 16
When Asjhone had left the hospital, she’d wanted nothing more than to pick up Keandre and get home. It’d been a crap day. They’d lost two patients in the ER. Dr. Behall had yelled at her for no good reason in front of Monique. And Dr. Jones had followed her around trying to make date plans, because apparently, in his doctor-sized brain, she’d already said yes and they just needed to finalize the details. The ballet? Portland Symphony? A candlelight dinner for two at Bluehour? She’d spent half of her break in the bathroom just for some peace.
She’d just wanted to get home, heat up the chicken and dumplings, give Keandre a bath, then persuade him to go to bed early so she could fall into hers.
But then she’d walked into Pastor Ken’s house and found her boy—her reason for drawing breath day after day—holding his hand. The patient who’d refused treatment. The patient who’d stepped in front of a semi with no clothes on. The patient who needed psychiatric care. The patient who hung out with a bunch of probably-not-but-more-than-likely-YES! trained killers. The patient no one remembered but her.
The look on Sarid’s face said he’d been just as surprised to see her there.
So he hadn’t stalked her and wasn’t trying to get to her through her child . . . probably.
“Why did you allow that man near my son?” Asjhone didn’t mean for the words to come out like that, especially to the pastor who was doing her a favor and had warned her
Mine . The demon purred. It was a low vibration right under Sarid’s sternum.
He whirled, rubbing his chest, not wanting the Other to lay eyes on her.
“Sarid, meet Keandre’s mother,” the pastor called out.
Run. Through the kitchen. Out the back door. Don’t stop. He paused. Wait. What? Keandre was Asjhone’s child?
He startled. Keandre’s hand was tucked into his.
“This is my mom,” he said and pulled Sarid around.
Asjhone’s gasp was inaudible except to him. She’d stilled, eyes growing wide.
“Hello. Again.” His voice was hoarse.
The choghen’s gaze moved from Sarid to Asjhone then back to Sarid. Understanding dawned. “You met at the hospital.” Then he glanced at them once more.
Asjhone stared at the older man.
Mine. The demon growled. Mine look at us. Not him.
A red haze fell over Sarid’s vision. He inhaled sharply. Dropped Keandre’s hand. Reeled back.
Keandre looked up at him.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
No. No. No. No. Sarid clenched his hands. Squeezed his eyes shut. Shook his head.
“Keandre, come here.” Asjhone’s voice was only a whisper, but it screamed with fear. The boy moved across the room. “Is he okay?” she asked the pastor.
The choghen said something to Asjhone.
He doesn’t speak to Mine. He doesn’t speak to Mine. Look. What are they doing? Open our eyes. See what he’s doing to Mine.
“Sarid?” The pastor’s tone was quiet.
Steps forward. A light touch on his arm. “Calm.”
The demon roared. He’s tricking you. The Righteous Man will take her away from us. Wants me to leave so you’ll be weak. You must protect her. Open our eyes. Don’t let her out of our sight.
Sarid doubled over, shook his head back and forth. Not going to change. Not going to change.
The pastor slowly stroked his upper back. “You’re still here, Sarid. It’s only you.”
He reared up. The pastor gasped. Eyes now open, Sarid leaned close to the choghen’s face. Everything was washed in red. “You’re wrong. It’s never just me.” His voice was distorted, a half-growl.
Blood drained from the choghen’s face. The older man’s heart tripled in speed.
The demon laughed. More.
Sarid moaned. He ran through the kitchen and out the backdoor.
Chapter 16
When Asjhone had left the hospital, she’d wanted nothing more than to pick up Keandre and get home. It’d been a crap day. They’d lost two patients in the ER. Dr. Behall had yelled at her for no good reason in front of Monique. And Dr. Jones had followed her around trying to make date plans, because apparently, in his doctor-sized brain, she’d already said yes and they just needed to finalize the details. The ballet? Portland Symphony? A candlelight dinner for two at Bluehour? She’d spent half of her break in the bathroom just for some peace.
She’d just wanted to get home, heat up the chicken and dumplings, give Keandre a bath, then persuade him to go to bed early so she could fall into hers.
But then she’d walked into Pastor Ken’s house and found her boy—her reason for drawing breath day after day—holding his hand. The patient who’d refused treatment. The patient who’d stepped in front of a semi with no clothes on. The patient who needed psychiatric care. The patient who hung out with a bunch of probably-not-but-more-than-likely-YES! trained killers. The patient no one remembered but her.
The look on Sarid’s face said he’d been just as surprised to see her there.
So he hadn’t stalked her and wasn’t trying to get to her through her child . . . probably.
“Why did you allow that man near my son?” Asjhone didn’t mean for the words to come out like that, especially to the pastor who was doing her a favor and had warned her
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