The Stone Demon Read Online Free PDF Page B

was there?

    Donna paced up and down the street, just outside the little row of Victorian houses in the heart of Pimlico. The lights of the city still burned, even at this time of night, and the sky was full of stars. Miranda hadn’t wanted her to go out alone, but Donna needed air before she could even think of going to bed. She’d promised to stay within sight of the house, but even this tiny slice of liberation lifted her spirits. She’d declined Robert’s offer to join her for an “early hours” walk around the neighborhood—she was still pissed at him for talking about Demian the way that he had. Sure, he meant well, but that didn’t mean he knew what he was talking about.
    Power was the only currency that someone like the Demon King cared about. As Miranda had already indicated, it wasn’t about something as … banal as destruction; there was more to it than that. It wasn’t even about revenge. Donna had felt it that night in the Ironwood, when Demian had first stepped free of his prison—and then once again, that day on the bridge when he’d given her the first of many black roses.
    She shivered, remembering once again his gaze and the way he’d spoken to her. As that thought crossed her mind, she saw a pale shape coalesce out of nothing but cool night air.
    He stood waiting for her, three doors down from Miranda’s house.
    She instantly recognized the tall, slender figure, who was motionless except for his silver hair, which was blowing slightly in the sudden wind. It felt like something out of a movie, and Donna had no doubt that this was the effect Demian was going for.
    Donna knew that Robert was watching out for her from one of the top-floor windows, but she wondered how much he would really be able to see. Demons were masters of illusion—more so than the fey with their glamour, and perhaps even possessed a more powerful kind of magic than the alchemists. At least, once they were at full strength again.
    Demian was beautiful, as before. But it was a dangerous beauty. The sort of beauty that you could cut yourself on if you weren’t careful. He stood with his shoulders back, in the black suit that matched his glittering eyes. His skin was very pale, his features all sharp planes beneath the shadows cast by the silver hair sweeping back from his face.
    The Demon King smiled as she watched him. Somehow, his smile was more terrifying than any other expression he might have chosen to wear on his wicked face.
    “What are you doing here?” Donna managed to say.
    “Am I not free to visit my subjects when it pleases me?”
    Subjects ? Donna clenched her jaw and gave him the most scary look she could. “You are beyond arrogant.”
    His eyes flashed. “And you are beyond discourteous.”
    Her stomach dropped to somewhere down near her knees, but she stood her ground. “We got your invitation, if that’s what you’re here to check up on.”
    He shrugged one shoulder, a gesture she was already familiar with from their previous meetings. “Indeed. I have received a reply from your Archmaster and the Order of the Dragon, as well as from the alchemists here.”
    “Oh. Right.” Donna wondered how the alchemists man-
aged to RSVP when there hadn’t been a return address included with the invite. “I’m going back inside,” she added. “So you might as well leave.”
    “Won’t you stay and talk for a few moments?”
    “It’s cold.”
    The air around her instantly heated. For some reason, that made her shiver even more. Demian was powerful—exactly how powerful was anybody’s guess. Two hundred years of incarceration didn’t seem to have slowed him down too much.
    “Better?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in challenge.
    Donna glared at him. “Please, just leave me alone.”
    She felt for the elusive shard of first matter—alchemical prima materia —that lived within her, just in case. Catching the very edge of the unpredictable power she had yet to fully understand, she prepared to tug on