Kenyon, Sherrilyn - Daemon's Angel PDF
Preview Kenyon, Sherrilyn - Daemon's Angel
ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 www.ABBYY.com www.ABBYY.com ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 www.ABBYY.com www.ABBYY.com OtherLove SpellBooks by Sherrilyn Kenyon: PARADISE CITY ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 www.ABBYY.com www.ABBYY.com ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 www.ABBYY.com www.ABBYY.com LOVE SPELL® May Published by Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc. Fifth Avenue New York, NY If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book." Copyright © by Sherrilyn Kenyon All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. The name "Love Spell" and its logo are trademarks of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc. Printed in the United States of America. ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 www.ABBYY.com www.ABBYY.com For Cathy-Max, Debbie, Kim, Lorraine, Rickey and Tanya—the cooks who sampled the soup! As Max so often says, "I am truly wealthy in friends. " For my editor, Alicia Condon, who gave me the chance to do something different. Laura Cifelli, for all her encouraging words. And as always, for my parents, family, and Ken. Without their love and support, I'd never have come so far. ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 www.ABBYY.com www.ABBYY.com ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 www.ABBYY.com www.ABBYY.com Prologue She drifted out of the billowing smoke from be- tween the fallen bodies like the Angel of Death come to claim their departing souls. Her pale flaxen hair blew in the strong breeze reminding him of a battle standard. Daemon blinked at the sight, his eyes burning from the smoke and sweat, and the stench of death that surrounded him. A shadow from the right caught his attention. He turned in his sad- dle with his sword raised just in time to prevent the Saxon's seax from slicing his thigh. With two swift, clean strokes, he finished his attacker and dared a quick look back at the eerie form. All Saxon males who remained able-bodied drew around her in a protective cloak as if they ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 www.ABBYY.com www.ABBYY.com would now rally to her favor. Daemon shook his head at their effort. Their number would scarce frighten a babe, let alone the Norman army that had cut through them with little difficulty. The sounds of battle settled to a raspy silence, broken only by the occasional neigh of a horse, or moan of the dying. "M'hlafdie,why do you come?" one of the Sax- ons snapped in their coarse native tongue, his voice carried on the wind to Daemon's ears. She lifted her chin with a courage to rival even the bravest of the men and turned away from the Saxon soldier. "Who leads this army?" the woman asked in the pure dulcet tones of an angel as she spoke in Norman French. "Milord!" Something grabbed Daemon's arm. With a curse, he swatted at the pest, but contacted only air. Angered over the interruption of his dream, he blinked open his eyes to see his squire stand- ing next to his cot. " 'Tis a messenger from your brother, the king," Wace said, his youthful face beaming in the cheerful manner that always annoyed Dae- mon first thing in the morning. His lips curled in a snarl, Daemon pushed back the blanket and rose. "I shall be right out," he said, reaching for his breeches and tunic. What the devil could William want with him now? He'd quelled the Saxons as promised, and ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 www.ABBYY.com www.ABBYY.com now all he sought was freedom to return to the continent, where he intended to search until he found another army or cause to fight for. Daemon tossed his hair out of his eyes and reached for the tent flap. He saw William's mes- senger, a frightened-looking youth who paled considerably when he faced him. Daemon shrugged the reaction away, a bitterness burn- ing raw in his gullet. He was too used to people's reactions to him, too used to the stark terror shimmering in their eyes as if they feared for their souls. As if he ever had any use for any- one's soul, including his own. "What does my brother want with me?" Dae- mon asked, his voice gruff to even his own ears. The messenger's eyes widened as he glanced up and noted Daemon's mismatched eyes. For a moment, Daemon feared Wace would have to bring the man a towel and oil cloth. The man looked about like a cornered rabbit. "His Maj- esty the King sends this for you, milord," he said, extending a bound parchment. Daemon took it from his hands and broke the seal. Curiosity riding him hard, he scanned the contents. His mood darkened with each word he read. William had given him lordship of Brunneswald Hall, the demesne lands, and all outlying territories. By hell, he'd kill William for this! His grip tightened on the letter. He looked up at the messenger, his breathing hard. "Tell Wil- ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 ABBYY PClDicFk hTerrae tno sbfouyrmer2.0 www.ABBYY.com www.ABBYY.com liam I'll take care of the rebellion as he re- quested, but I want him to find a permanent castellan for the manor. I have no use for such." The messenger nodded furiously. "Aye, mi- lord. I shall tell him forthwith." Daemon shook his head, his stomach knot- ting over William's humor. What was the man thinking? He had served his brother well; why would William do such a thing to him? "Bloody bastard," he said as he entered the tent, unsure of whom he intended the insult for, himself or William. He reached for his armor. "Who leads this army?" Daemon whirled at the sound of the voice in his dream, but saw nothing. An ache spread through him, an ache whose source he couldn't name. 'Twas always the same, though. Ever since he'd landed at Hastings with William, he'd been haunted by the dream of a fair maiden coming for his soul. Grunting, he realized it was more than likely a warning of his death. Aye, he would welcome the moment and the peace it brought with open arms.
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