Flame Unleashed (Hell to Pay) Read Online Free PDF Page B

contract.
    Dante, on the other hand, the giant Swede born 300 years ago, had embraced his Indebted prowess and reportedly applied it with great enthusiasm, especially in the bedroom. It boggled the mind to consider Dante settled down with only one woman.
    Odie crossed his ankle over his knee. “My own urge to kill has increased over the past year or so, which makes sense. Fewer Indebted left to keep He-Who-Must-Be-Fed satiated.”
    “You’re right. And may I say that pissing off Jerahmeel is a generally bad idea? After losing Peter and Dante, he’s sorely vexed, to put it lightly.”
    “At Peter and Dante? Or at you?”
    Barnaby rubbed the backs of his arthritic hands. “All of us. You see, while I didn’t exactly help, I might have had a tiny bit of involvement with each transformation.”
    Adrenaline shot through Odie as he sat up bolt upright, boots planted on the floor. No one wanted to attract Jerahmeel’s interest. Ever. A mere mortal would never survive his boss’s rage. So did that mean Barnaby was now a marked man?
    “Exactly how tiny?”
    A flicker of pain passed over Barnaby’s face and then was gone. Fear? “Probably a bit too much involvement.”
    “Can Ruth keep you safe?”
    “That’s not her job, my boy. But yes, she does watch over me.”
    “You didn’t answer the question.”
    The elderly man pulled a wistful smile. “I’m not afeared of death, you know. Not anymore.”
    “What are you saying, old friend?”
    “I’ve said too much—”
    At Barnaby’s stricken expression when Ruth slipped in the room, Odie snapped his mouth shut.
    Her eyes narrowed as she studied the suddenly silent men, and her lips thinned. “Brunch is on the table if you two are ready.”
    She turned to step out again, but Barnaby stopped her. “Dine with us, my dear.”
    “I couldn’t. This is time for you to spend with your friend.”
    “Even more reason.” Barnaby chuckled. “You keep yourself so cloistered with this old, rickety man all the time, you don’t get to be around anyone else. Like us, I mean.”
    Ah, that particular shade of pink on Ruth’s cheeks, the color of strawberry buttercream, had Odie’s tongue watering. When she helped Barnaby up, damned if the tan fabric didn’t stretch perfectly over her hips. He followed her to the dining room, where they sat around the cherry wood table.
    The Indebted did not require food, but Odie personally enjoyed preparing and eating it, a simple pleasure that helped to maintain a thin connection to his humanity.
    Between bites of poached eggs in tangy hollandaise sauce, he shared tales of how New Orleans had changed since he had first arrived in 1768, when the city was little more than a few streets of wood homes that blew down during each hurricane season. He and Barnaby shared with Ruth one of their more notorious escapades when they evaded the British military with the aid of a brothel full of lusty and loyal Creole women. By the time the ladies of the night had finished, the Brits couldn’t walk straight, much less track down two suspected smugglers.
    Ruth’s eyes glowed as her mouth curled up in reluctant amusement at the misadventure. How Odie would enjoy finding new ways to make her smile.
    “So, are you still dabbling in genealogy these days?” Barnaby’s question caught him off-guard.
    “Why, yes. I find it fascinating. With the advent of the Internet and an unlimited supply of free time, I’ve created new programs to trace family trees.”
    “To what extent?” Ruth broke her silence. Her cool but sensual voice caught his attention like someone grabbing his balls.
    Damn, but he wanted to focus on the fork sliding over her lips, not genealogy work. “I like to know what my daughter’s family is up to, to know that my progeny carries on successfully. It also helps that they have a secret benefactor now and then, as the situation presents itself.”
    “Presents itself?” Her tapered fingertip tracing the rim of the juice glass challenged