Stone Cold Touch. Jennifer L. ArmentroutЧитать онлайн книгу.

       CHAPTER ONE

      Ten seconds after Mrs. Cleo moseyed on into biology class, flipped on the projector and turned off the lights, Bambi decided she was no longer comfortable where she was currently curled around my waist.

      Sliding along my stomach, the very active demonic snake tattoo was not a fan of sitting still for any length of time, especially not during a boring lecture on the food chain. I stiffened, resisting the urge to giggle like a hyena as she cruised up between my breasts and rested her diamond-shaped head on my shoulder.

      Five more seconds passed while Stacey stared at me, her brows raised. I forced a tight smile, knowing Bambi wasn’t done yet. Nope. Her tongue flicked out, tickling the side of my neck.

      I clamped my hand over my mouth, stifling a giggle as I squirmed in my seat.

      “Are you on drugs?” Stacey asked in a low voice as she brushed thick bangs out of her dark eyes. “Or is my left boob hanging out and saying hello to the world? Because as my best friend, you’re obligated to tell me.”

      Even though I knew her boob was in her shirt, or at least I hoped so since her V-neck sweater was pretty low cut, my gaze dipped as I lowered my hand. “Your boob is fine. I’m just...antsy.”

      She wrinkled her nose at me before returning her attention to the front of the classroom. Drawing in a deep breath, I prayed that Bambi would remain where she was for the rest of the class. With her on my skin, it was like having a mad case of the tics. Twitching every five seconds wasn’t going to help my popularity, or lack thereof. Luckily, with the much cooler weather and Thanksgiving fast approaching, I could get away with wearing turtlenecks and long sleeves, which hid Bambi from sight.

      Well, as long as she didn’t decide to crawl up on my face. Something she liked to do whenever Zayne was around. He was an absolutely gorgeous Warden—a member of the race of creatures who could look human at will, but whose true form was what humans called gargoyles. Wardens were tasked with protecting mankind, hunting what went bump in the night...and during the day. I’d grown up with Zayne and had nursed one heck of a puppy-dog crush on him for years.

      Bambi shifted, her tail tickling the side of my stomach.

      I had no idea how Roth had dealt with Bambi crawling all over him.

      My breath caught as a deep, unforgiving pang hit me in the chest. Without thinking, I reached for the ring with the cracked stone—the ring that had once held the blood of my mother, the Lilith—dangling from my necklace. Feeling the cool metal between my fingers was calming. Not because of the familial bond, since I really didn’t claim a relationship with my mother, but because, along with Bambi, it was my last and only link to Astaroth, the Crown Prince of Hell, who had done the most undemonic thing.

       I lost myself the moment I found you.

      Roth had sacrificed himself by being the one to hold Paimon, the bastard responsible for wanting to unleash an especially nasty race of demons, in a devil’s trap meant to send its captive to Hell. Zayne had been doing the honors of keeping Paimon from escaping, but Roth...he’d taken Zayne’s place.

      And now he was in the fiery pits.

      Leaning forward, I propped my elbows on the cool table, completely unaware of what Mrs. Cleo was droning on about. Tears burned the back of my throat as I stared at the empty chair in front of me that used to belong to Roth. I closed my eyes.

      Two weeks. Three hundred and thirty-six hours, give or take a few, had passed since that night in the old gymnasium and not a second had gotten easier. It hurt as if it had happened an hour ago and I wasn’t sure if a month or even a year from now would be any different.

      One of the hardest parts was all the lies. Stacey and Sam had asked a hundred questions when Roth hadn’t returned after the night we had located the Lesser Key of Solomon (the ancient book that had the answers to everything we’d needed to know about my mother) and had been caught by Abbot (the leader of the Warden clan in D.C. who had adopted me as a young girl). They’d stopped eventually, but it was still another secret I was keeping from them, two of my closest friends.

      Despite our friendship, neither of them knew what I was—half Warden, half demon. And neither of them realized that Roth hadn’t just been out with mono or changed schools. But sometimes it was easier to think of him that way—to tell myself he was just at another school instead of where he was.

      The burn moved into my chest, much like the low simmer in my veins that was always present. The need to take a soul, the curse my mother had passed on to me, hadn’t diminished one bit over the past two weeks. If anything, it had seemed to increase. The ability to draw the soul out of any creature that had one was why I hadn’t ever gotten close to a boy before.

      Not until Roth had come along.

      Given that he was a demon, the pesky soul problem was a moot point. He didn’t have one. And unlike Abbot and almost all of the Warden clan, even Zayne, Roth hadn’t cared that I was a mixed breed. He had...he’d accepted me as I was.

      Scrubbing my palms over my eyes, I bit the inside of my cheek. When I’d found my repaired and cleaned-up necklace—the one Petr, a Warden who turned out to be my half brother, had broken during his attack on me—at Roth’s apartment, I’d clung to the hope that Roth wasn’t in the pits after all. That he’d somehow escaped, but with each passing day, that hope flickered out like a candle in the middle of a hurricane.

      I believed more than anything in this world that if Roth could’ve come back to me, he would have by now, and that meant...

      When my chest squeezed painfully, I opened my eyes and slowly let out the breath I’d been holding. The room was a little blurry through the haze of unshed tears. I blinked a couple of times as I slumped back in my seat. Whatever was on the slide projector made no sense to me. Something to do with the circle of life? No, that was The Lion King. I was so going to fail this class. Figuring I should at least attempt to take notes, I picked up my pen and—

      At the front of the class, the metal legs from a chair scraped across the floor, screeching loudly. A boy exploded out of his chair as if someone had lit a fire under his butt. A faint yellow glow surrounded him—his aura. I was the only one who could see it, but it sputtered erratically, blinking in and out. Seeing people’s auras—a reflection of their souls—was nothing new for me. They were all kinds of colors, sometimes a mixture of more than two, but I’d never seen one waver like that before. I glanced around the room and the mixture of auras glimmered faintly.

      What the Hell?

      Mrs. Cleo’s hand was frozen above the projector as she frowned. “Dean McDaniel, what in the world are you—”

      Dean spun on his heel, facing the two guys sitting behind him. They were leaning back in their seats, their arms crossed and lips curved up in identical smirks. Dean’s mouth was pressed into a thin line and his face was flushed. My mouth dropped open as he planted one hand on the white tabletop and slammed his other fist into the jaw of the kid behind him. The fleshy smack echoed through the classroom, followed by several surprised gasps.

       Holy granola bar!

      I sat up straight as Stacey slapped her hands on our table. “Holy shit balls for Sunday dinner,” she whispered, gaping as the boy Dean had punched slumped to the left and hit the floor like a bag of potatoes.

      I didn’t know