The Lariat (Finding Justus Series) Read Free

who made me feel something like this before and I would rather walk into Lillith’s glass palace than feel that once more.
    He opened his mouth, “Can I at least…”
    “I don’t care who you are. Tell me what you want and leave,” I snapped.
    “What I need is not that simple.” He had a slow way of speaking that I found irritating, as if he had time to burn.
    “It never is. You have ten seconds before I walk out the door and I won’t help you at all after that.”
    His laugh was like a vibrant melody, his eyes lit up and his smile was catching. I felt light-headed from just looking at him.
    “I’m not going anywhere, Layla.” He raised his eyebrows and just grinned down at me.
    When did he get so close to me?
    “And I don’t need anything from you either.” He towered over me with hands tucked tightly in his pockets. He wore a thick silver chain around his neck and it disappeared underneath his shirt. I wanted to see what else he had hidden under that shirt. I wondered what I would do if he reached out and touched me.
    As if reading my thoughts he did just that. He moved even closer and our eyes locked. My breath was coming quicker, my heart was hammering in my chest, but my hands were cool. The daemon fire beneath my skin quieted. His hand moved slowly, like touching a dangerous animal, to my cheek. He ran the backs of his fingers slowly from my temple to my bottom lip. Goosebumps covered my skin making the tattoo on my neck come alive again.
    His touch was infectious.
    He was a breath away from my lips when he ruined the moment, “Are you sure you don’t care who I am?”
    I opened my eyes, appalled that I had even shut them, and pulled myself back. I studied him again, thinking back to all the demonic members of the Vile and the angelic beings who made up the Virtuous- but he was from neither of those. He felt like me, like Orrin. And then it hit me.
    He was different. He wasn’t an angel or daemon. He was Vulgar- like me. That was a half-blood, born of both worlds.
    “Exactly,” He grinned.
    Is he…did he just…how can he…?
    He laughed again, mocking me, enjoying my discomfort. “That was a few you just threw at me, but let me just say to your unspoken questions: Yes I am, yes I just did, and I can hear your thoughts because like you, I am part angel.”

 
     
     
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    I turned, like a coward, and walked away before he could ask for my help. He knew how to keep me. He knew how to make me his. I hated that part of my birthright. If anyone, creature, human or otherwise, asked me for my help I was compelled to do whatever was in my power to aid them. Few people knew the secret to of the Beacon. Many just sought me out because I was willing to help them. Angels, daemons and humans in need seemed to find their way to me without even knowing who I was.
    It was irritating. I wanted to rake my nails down their innocent faces, string them up by their feet and bleed every last drop of live force from their needy corpse- but the Beacon couldn’t do that. I had to suppress my daemon so I could help the world. It was a raw deal.
    Could you help me, please? Once those words were out, I was powerless to resist. I needed to move, I needed to breathe, and I needed to get the hell out of this crowded campus before I snapped.
    The war within me had become unmanageable. I helped people because I was the Beacon- my one unavoidable destiny. It was either that or give in to the darkness and rain destruction down on all of mankind, and that choice was unacceptable. I had shared this burden with one other soul. In the short time we were actually together, Orrin taught me how to control my birthright, my pyrokenesis, and also how to focus my thoughts so my darkness wasn’t so scary. Focusing was easier to do when he was around. I focused on him. On us.
    Without him I drank copiously to control my daemon to ensure I would help people instead of kill them. I tamped down on the rage that flowed within me, the