Wicked Demons Read Online Free PDF Page A

her.
    Michael’s hands ran down her body and cupped
her ass, pushing her towards him as he rammed his staff further and
further to her core. And with every thrust, he felt her energy
healing his injuries. As an incubus, he siphoned and ate energy
like a starving man at a buffet. If he was taking too much, Andi
hadn’t noticed. The only feeling in her world was ecstasy.
    He gave and took until they both cried out
into the night.
    As time passed like dripping honey, Andi
basked in delight as Michael gathered their clothes and walked back
to the truck bed. She wiggled into her undies and stretched, trying
to remember when she last felt so free of responsibility. However,
Michael’s stance—withdrawing from a straight back posture to a soft
crouch—caused Andi to stop breathing.
    He motioned for her to slide off the truck
bed and crouch as well.
    “The light was on when I left. I don’t see
it,” he whispered.
    “Is that all? Jesus.” Oxygen filled her lungs
again as her chest relaxed. “Paranoid much?” She started to stand
up, but his hand snaked around her waist and pulled her back
down.
    “It wasn’t a bear.”
    He quickly handed her a ball of clothes.
Bloodied and sweat-soaked, she threw on her once white blouse,
along with his boxers.
    “What?”
    “What you saw earlier. What ran in front of
your car. It wasn’t a bear.”
    Glaring, Andi raised her voice. “I knew it
wasn’t a bear!”
    Something rattled in the campsite. And then
she heard it, that noise. The screeching wails that turned
her blood to dust.
    “Get ready. It’s coming,” was all Michael
warned as a black whirlwind of dirt and wind swept towards
them.
    Andi jumped to her feet and took off down the
gravel road barefoot. Michael was yelling behind her, but his words
were lost in the sound of her heaving breaths as each step became
more labored than the last. And it wasn’t due to her bum knee.
    She was not one to exercise like a maniac,
but Andi always figured herself to be in shape. So why did she feel
like someone had dropped her body into a vat of caramel?
    Feeling her knee slide, pinching something
crucial, was the last thing she felt before watching the ground
rush to meet her face.
    Michael was nearby. She could hear his voice
until it was practically on top of her, though her eyes refused to
open. Somehow, Andi was trapped in a barely there shell, listening
to the real world, but detached and confused like her dreams often
were.
    Am I dreaming? She thought, pleasantly
surprised that thinking was possible at all.
    No, you’re not , a voice in her head
answered back. But it was the voice of an outsider, a stranger. Not
her own. She was about to mentally lose it until the voice rang
from the darkness of mind and matter. Shhh… You can’t be hurt
here. They want us alive. Don’t fight .
    And then she was really unconscious.

 
     
     
V
     
     
    Waking after what felt like hours of
unrestful sleep, she sat up. There was barely enough room to do
that. A glow found its way through a thin seam above her head and
Andi used it to inspect the area.
    Michael lay beside her, not yet awake. A look
so innocent masked his kissable lips and almond-shaped eyes. His
right forearm rested just above his forehead. Right then, Michael
could have been anyone resting in reverie after a long day. There
were no signs that tied him to such awful surroundings or villains
that could have done this to either one of them. And that made her
wonder what his body language—even in rest–fought so hard to
hide.
    Andi ventured a glance from his inviting
presence. The walls were little more than bars. Crude prison bars
exposing dirt walls behind them. The glow had come from above, but
she couldn’t find the source.
    As fear began pressing her from the inside
out, quickly toppling her careful empire of cool, Andi shook
Michael and pleaded in a careful voice, “Wake up, Michael. Please,
please wake up.”
    “Mmmmhh…”
    “Michael!”
    His eyelids fluttered