Birthright - Book 2 of the Legacy Series (An Urban Fantasy Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page B

he had very little power now that I had placed the lock back on. That ruby necklace served as a link, a receiver so to speak, and if I channeled a little power into it Amaymon got temporary access to all his former super powers. In cat mode, he still had a few left, but none that could cause major damage.
    I think.
    Amaymon stretched his neck toward her ribcage and began licking her injury. The apprentice’s expression went from anguish, to repulse, to relief. The more the cat licked, the more relaxed the girl got, slowly closing her eyes in the bliss of pain relief. I made a quick association in my head — pain relief narcotics grow from good old earth. Amaymon is an elemental of Earth, although I suspect there’s more to it than that. He never discusses his power, always saying that I wouldn’t understand it, that humans cannot perceive power in the same depth that other creatures can. We were both creatures of magic, technically speaking. His was as pure a lineage as one can get, whereas my pedigree was more human than magic.
    After a while, Amaymon stopped his ministrations and simply curled on his favorite spot on the couch. I applied the symbols, this time without the wincing and little jumps that threatened to jeopardize the entire spell.
    “There,” I said once I had finished with the last symbol. “Sit in that circle cross-legged and keep your back straight. Just focus on channeling energy. The spell should take care of the rest.”
    Abi obeyed every command to the letter, allowing only her eyes to move. “How long?” she murmured.
    “Could be anywhere from a couple of hours to an entire day. Just sit still. You’re lucky to be alive,” I replied, and immediately regretted saying that.
    Abi’s expression went from downcast to nearly tearful. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. It took all of her willpower not to hunch over and cry.
    I felt bad. I hate it when women cry, especially if I have some sort of a bond with them. But some selfish part of me, the part born when I had to beat my own father to death, and hardened in the process of battling nightmares for a living, said that she deserved it. She deserved to feel bad. This world was no place for the weak, and twice in a row she needed either me or my cat to save her life.
    I told that part of me to shut up and keep its opinions to itself. Doesn’t mean it was wrong. The next time she could die and, as much as I hated seeing her like this, I would rather she be sad and alive instead of in a body bag. This is it , I thought. This is where I had to draw the line. She was not ready to face the world where hillbilly vampires are considered to be puppy dogs. She was not ready to face her own weaknesses, let alone something as overwhelming as a demon. I had to cut her off. I would tell her that she could keep learning under me, and lessons will go as usual. But no more fieldwork. No more hunts. Not until she grew stronger.
    Not until I grew stronger.
    I was about to verbalize all that when I felt someone staring daggers at me from the couch. Amaymon’s feline eyes locked with mine, and I had a sinking suspicion he was tapping into my thought process. He got up, in that lethargic way only cats can muster, and sat on the armrest of the couch.
    “Don’t do it,” he said, his gaze still pouring into mine. “If you cut her off, she’ll just seek solace elsewhere. You really wanna throw out a budding succubus?”
    “I’m not throwing her out. Just cutting her off from hunts,” I replied.
    “Which is the same as cutting her off entirely. You can make that distinction, Erik. She can’t,” argued the cat.
    “You were going to cut me off?” asked Abi. She looked at me, silently asking me to reassure her. To tell her I still trusted her.
    “Yes,” I told her. “You’re not ready for this.” I might as well have stabbed her myself. It was the right thing to do, I kept telling myself. Then, my inner voice replied. If it’s the right thing, why does it