Keeley Thomson (Book 4): Demon Trap Read Online Free PDF Page A

had pointed that out by beating her regularly over the last few months, by way of teaching her.
    This was a much smaller party than the one Finias gave for Halloween, with only about fifty beings in the room. It kind of explained why Darla had gotten her to wear matching tramp gear instead of the very fine gown that Bente had sent for the thing. That and the fact that people might think she was under the fashion Demon's control or influence if she did. It was a bit of a shame, since the thing was incredible . Keeley had never been all that in to dressing up, but it was so nice she was kind of searching for someplace to wear it, to tell the truth. It would probably end up being a school dance, but that was nearly a crime, since only two or three people would understand what they were even looking at.
    It was a Vampire that came up to them first, a decently tall and thin Manthori, who seemed remarkably friendly for one of his kind. He strained to smile with his mouth closed and approached them, his hand reaching out to shake politely. With Zack.
    "Mr. Hartley! So wonderful to see you. I was unaware that you were friends with The Mind Drinker." There was a sidelong turn toward a thirty odd year old man across the room, who had on a stylish black suit that wasn't a tuxedo at all. It was interesting, but not that impressive really.
    Keeley smiled and explained, since the memory Zack had of the man was him as an older gentleman.
    "Finias. He reads minds, hence the name." It was a bit of shorthand, but no one disagreed with her over it. The Greater Demon was known to be one of the strongest telepaths in the world. If you had a secret, you had to lock it up pretty tight if you didn't want him to find out about it. Keeley could do it, at least if he wasn't prying too hard. She didn't know if that would work if he were actually trying , of course. Probably not, if she were going to be realistic about it. Her implanted memories told her that he could be pretty impressive that way, when he wanted to be.
    Zack let his head turn to look at the man, and managed not to seem confused, for some reason.
    "We've met. I don't know if we're friends yet." Then he managed to stop talking, which was impressive. He didn't think of it that way, but the new Line Walker was a constant security risk. He said what he thought, for the most part, struggling to keep the worst of things inside and failing about a third of the time. Luckily he wasn't as evil as most people. However he'd broken to make that happen.
    Instead he turned to her and then waved at Darla.
    "This is Harland of the Vampire Council. You know Bey, don't you?" He seemed to be ready to try and introduce everyone, but Rebekah had to be a complete cipher to him and that was who the new Manthori clearly wanted to talk to. Same kind of being and all that, causing her to seem friendlier than the rest of them or something.
    Bowing the tiny Vampire man stepped forward. It was a thing amongst many of the older people it seemed, constant bowing like that.
    "You know my daughter, Lenore Hawthorn as well, do you not Harland? This Manthori woman is Rebekah, who is in thrall to the Mistress of Souls." He was going to go on, but Keeley smiled and stepped closer to them slowly.
    "That isn't correct, Bey Transmorguir. Rebekah works with me, as a hired employee, with full freedom and rights. The four over there, by the table, are slaves of mine. Sorry to interrupt, but I didn't want such an important being as Harland of the Manthori to think she wasn't a free agent in her own right." Then going silent, she backed away a half step. She'd been rude, but the tiny Bey just smiled at the girl Vampire and patted her arm gently.
    "Oh! A very risky and daring occupation indeed. You must be very brave. I apologize if I gave offense, it was a simple misunderstanding, please don't think that I wronged you?" It sounded so polite and sweet that Rebekah smiled, almost as if the man was flirting with her.
     He wasn't, of