Neon Blue E Frost (speld decodable readers .TXT) đ
- Author: E Frost
Book online «Neon Blue E Frost (speld decodable readers .TXT) đ». Author E Frost
âYou lie like your beng dadrus, the Prince of Liesââ
âHe doesnât like that name, and after this morning heâs probably listeninâ.â
The Billigoat takes several draws on his cigarette before he responds. âWe wonât let you make her one of you.â
âItâd be her choice,â Jou responds. I shiver despite the warm water and the heat of his body. I didnât have any idea he wanted to make me a demon.
âIâm not damned,â I say weakly.
âDonât have to be for what I had in mind. But itâs a waste of breath. The only way to the Pillar is through the old man anâ he says no. So forget it.â
âTell her why you wanted it, beng,â the Billigoat says mulishly.
The demon chuckles against my ear. âYou in the mood for a history lesson, sweet meat?â
Iâm in the mood for anything that keeps him chuckling. Particularly since Iâm naked and heâs got his hands on some very critical parts. âOkay.â
âThree ways to make a demon. The birds ânâ bees way. The severe fuck-up way. Anâ the third way. We donât talk about the third way.â
âWhy not?â I ask breathily, because heâs started to stroke my breast. Probably just to piss my uncle off. But whatever the intent, it has the predictable effect. My body tightens. A familiar ache begins between my legs. My hips rise a little against his hand and he rubs his thumb over my inner thigh.
ââCause itâs a big dark secret. Whaddo you think nasty little warlocks like your dead friend would do if they found out you didnât have to be damned to have the strength and power of a demon? Theyâd be fallinâ over each other tâget downstairs. Anâ we got enough problems as it is without beinâ overrun by those power-hungry little fucks.â
âOh.â I decide in that moment that I donât want to know what the third way is. The less I know about something diabolists desire so badly, the better.
My uncle, however, doesnât share my reservations. âWhatâs the third way?â
âBathinâ in the Pillar of Fire.â
That doesnât sound so bad.
âAfter havinâ your veins filled with demon blood and your womb with demon seed.â
I gulp. âYou, youââ
He nips the rim of my ear and speaks into my mind. I havenât done anythinâ yet, sweet meat. Iâm just enjoyinâ you.
But you asked your fatherâ
Yeah, Iâve been thinkinâ about it. But I havenât done anythinâ. Nothinâ has to happen yet.
Nothing except me sending him back to Hell as soon as possible.
I donât want to become a demon.
How dâyou know?
I just know!
You donât know anythinâ about it. Lemme show you what it can be like before you make any stupid decisions.
Wanting to retain my humanity isnât stupid!
You donât know that, either. Anyway, the old fuckâs barred me from the Pillar, so right now itâs all a waste of breath.
Then why are we talking about it?
Your uncle started it. I told you to forget it.
âKĂĄulochĂrilo,â my uncle-who-started-it says, and thereâs a note of pleading in his voice.
For a moment, I see what he must see. Me lying against the demon, his arms around me, his mouth so close to my ear that it must look like heâs whispering to me. Like Iâm completely in his thrall.
âItâs okay, Goat. It canât happen against my will.â
âYour will? What will have you in the face of this archere?â
âArchere? Come on,â I complain. âAt least use words I know.â
Itâs old English, the demon supplies. Means seducer.
Well, that fits.
He chuckles inside my head and licks my ear in a way that sends hot shivers up my spine.
âThe beng will destroy you, kĂĄulochĂrilo,â my uncle says in his best voice-of-doom. I scowl at him.
âYes, I got that, Uncle.â
Not destroy. Whatâs the fun in that?
Can we talk about something else? And can we have this conversation somewhere else? Somewhere other than my bathtub? Being caught between my uncle and the demon â naked â is beginning to really get on my nerves.
He started it. I just wanted a bath.
Oh, yes, Mr. Innocent. Aloud, I say, âOkay, truce. Now I know what he was planning and everyone knows how I feel about it. End of discussion. Can I finish my bath, please?â
âThe longer you linger in the bengâs embrace, the less youâll be able to resist him, chavi. You have to break free of him now. There is anotherââ
âAnother what?â I ask suspiciously. Is he about to offer the demon a substitute? I sit up, not caring what I bare. âYouâd better say another way, Goat. If you offer him a substitute, I swear Iâll make sure you never leave Limbo.â
My uncle puffs on his cigarette in glowering silence. I glare back at him, getting so angry Iâm surprised the water doesnât boil.
âYouâre disgusting, all of you!â I shout at him.
âWeâre only thinking of you,â my uncle mutters around his cigarette.
âRight, thinking of me. Just like youâve always thought of me, hauling me from place to place. Never giving me a home. Never letting me have any friends of my own. Keeping me isolated and afraid of anyone who wasnât just like me. You know what?â I plant my hands on the rim of the tub. Hear the ceramic crack. Smell the ozone that overpowers the sweet scent of lavender. âThere is no one like me! Iâm a freak! Even in my own family, Iâm a freak. And Iâm glad! Because Iâd rather be a freak than be like you!â I raise my hand and spit through my outstretched fingers.
My spittle tears through the ghost, shredding him into flakes of ectoplasm that spatter across my toilet.
I haul myself out of the bathtub, slopping water onto the tiles. âAnother goddamn mess in my house!â
I stretch out my hands, call and feel the earth under the foundations, the wind blowing beyond the windows, respond. I twist my fingers together, winding and knotting the energies Iâve called, flick the spell off my
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