Demons of Desire Read Free

her dedication delved into the spiritual.
    “Do you practice?” she asked, confirming my suspicions.
    “No, but I have an affinity for all things green.”
    It was a weak explanation. What I felt wasn’t in the realm of religion or belief — it went into my very bones, into the blood that flowed through my veins. When I was in a forest, everything came together. I felt like I could lie upon the moss and melt into the earth itself. It was the one place where my crazy succubus side relaxed and stopped pestering me with her incessant needs. It was wonderful to know this place existed right here in New Orleans — a spot I could retreat to when I felt out of control and needed to center.
    Jordan and I continued the tour while Darci lagged behind, still fiddling with her phone. I didn’t mind if she was playing Candy Crush or posting on Instagram. All this tree stuff wasn’t really her thing. It was a testament to our friendship that she was enduring this for me.
    There was a parade of oaks, cypresses and other trees. I loved the Live Oaks the best — how their horizontal spread was nearly twice their height. They were the largest tree species east of the Rockies, from the red oak group of trees.
    “Unfortunately, this one isn’t going to make it. We’re scheduled to take it down tomorrow, although there’s no real guarantee the disease won’t spread to the others.”
    I felt it before I turned to look at the tree — a thick, sickeningly sweet aura. Black spots, like burns, dotted the bark of the Live Oak, and its leaves showed similar brown and black marks. It was as if someone had held a torch to the tree. I placed my hand on the bark — it confirmed what my eyes told me, and I jerked away in horror.
    “Phytophthora ramorum.”
    Sudden oak death. The plant pathogen was fungus–like in how it spread, covering the tree with cankers that bled thick sap. Under the bark would be discolored tissue and black lines. It was a death sentence, and the bane of every arborist. Removing the tree and surrounding soil was the typical response, but it often didn’t halt the spread. I worried for the old grove, but my greatest sorrow was for the sick oak.
    I reached a hand toward the oak then hesitated. My supernatural green thumb had its limits — or did it? All I’d done so far was correct mineral imbalances in soil and adjust absorption rates. I’d never removed disease. I’d never cured. The oak was dying before my eyes, forgiving me my limitations. Noble. Accepting of its fate.
    I couldn’t turn my back on this tree. My hand touched the damaged bark. A sensation of black sludge rocketed through me, twisting my stomach into a knot of pain. I pushed back, fighting my way through the haze of death, into the heart of the tree. The blight fought back, angrily defending its prey and stealing my breath with a smoky scent. A faint shout barely registered in my mind, along with the sensation of something on my arm. It felt strange, as though my body were coated in layers of wool, or as if I were buried deep inside another. Gold pushed back the black, expanding with a flash of light and heat.
    “Amber!”
    I was on my back, staring up at Darci’s dark brown eyes, her face framed by a cerulean sky. Jordan stood to the side with her hand covering her mouth. She wasn’t as concerned over my horizontal position as Darci was; she was too occupied staring at the Live Oak. Emphasis on “live”.
    “Low blood sugar,” I told Darci as I tentatively sat up. Her eyebrows shot up, but she held her tongue. Jordan wasn’t so circumspect.
    “You cured it! I’ve never seen a magical working have such a quick result. Wow, if you can do that for a tree, I can only imagine what you could do to help rebuild the swamp areas. Centuries of damage could be corrected in one day. You must meet my coven.”
    “She must get a sandwich.” Darci’s voice was stern as she helped me to my feet.
    “What kind of magic do you practice?” Jordan