Read Personal Demons for Free Online Page A

guess . . . if you want.”
    Riley is standing back from the catfight. I raise my voice slightly to be heard over the foray. “Riley.” She looks my way. “I’m going with Luc . . . ’kay?”
    The firelight flickers in her eyes as she smiles knowingly and nods.
    I glance once more at Gabe, who holds my eyes with his and shoots me a glowing smile, and then I feel the tips of Luc’s fingers scorch through the shirt in the small of my back. I catch his cinnamon as he leans in from behind and whispers, “Let’s go.”
    At his touch, a tingle starts low in my belly and works its way through me, growing in intensity till my whole body is humming—some parts more than others. I let him steer me and my Jell-O legs to his car.
LUC
    So, He sent Gabriel. Not an angel—a Dominion. A protector from the Second Sphere. And not just any Dominion, but the left hand of
the
Gabriel. That can only mean one thing: Frannie’s soul is worth fighting for.
    As we pull away from the party, Frannie checks out the car. “Cool, a Shelby Cobra GT. And in great condition. This is a classic. A ’67?”
    I can’t help smiling. “A ’68. You know your Mustangs.”
    She turns to me and smiles, and I’m suddenly struck with how unbelievably alive she is. Not that all mortals aren’t alive by definition, but there are degrees of aliveness. Some people are mostly dead, even when they think they’re alive. Frannie’s not one of them.
    “That was impressive, by the way.”
    She shoots me a sidelong glance. “What?”
    “The flipping the big guy over your head thing.”
    Her eyes widen. “You saw that?”
    “I did. He has to weigh double what you do. Impressive.”
    She turns away and looks out the window. “Yeah, whatever.” But I can tell she’s smiling.
    “So . . .”
    “So, what?”
    “Where’d you learn to do that?”
    “Judo. Eight years.”
    “Interesting.” I like this girl more every minute. “So . . . where to?”
    She turns back to face me with a hint of a smile. “I thought you said you were driving me home.” She’s starting to relax—moving her shoulders to the beat of the music from the stereo.
    “Hmm, did I? Well . . . if that’s what you want . . .”
    Her eyebrows arch and a shrewd little smile just turns up the corners of her lips. “Did you have something else in mind?”
    “We could work on our English outline,” I say and almost can’t contain the chuckle.
    “Really? That’s your idea of a hot date?”
    “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware we were on a ‘hot date.’ ” And this time I
can’t
contain the chuckle when she cringes. “So, how hotwould you like it? I’m capable of all levels of hotness, from
Luc-
warm to—and I’m being literal here—hotter than Hell.”
    I watch her cheeks flush and the car floods with ginger. This is excellent progress.
    “Um, well . . . I was thinking more about . . . maybe we could work on that outline . . .” Her voice trails off, and she’s as red as the embers of Hell.
    “The outline . . . excellent suggestion. Why didn’t I think of that?” I turn my most charming smile on her. “Your house or mine?”
    Her brow furrows as she contemplates her choices. “Maybe I should just go home,” she finally says.
    “As you wish.”
    We ride in silence, but as I take the corner into her neighborhood she blurts, “Do you do coffee hot? There’s a Starbucks just around the corner.”
    The tires squeal as I take the right turn too fast, and I work to hide my grin as she grips her seat to keep from falling on top of me.

    “So how do you know that Gabe guy?” she asks over the top of her steaming coffee cup.
    “It’s a very long story.” Seven thousand years long.
    “Are you, like, friends or something?”
    “Not really. We play for rival teams.”
    “Like, football?” She looks puzzled, not pegging me for a football player, I suppose.
    I lean forward and gaze into her eyes, brushing my fingers across the back of her hand on the