Free Defying Instinct (Demon Instinct Series) by Jaye A. Jones Page A

fine-tuned to detect discourse.  I
tasted the faint chaos of their minds and could have taken a swim within their
turbulent depths.  I felt the impulse to urge them on, encourage further
imbalance, increase the perfection of their mind’s turmoil.  It was in a
Destroyer’s best interest to keep those not in power at odds with each other. 
A Destroyer existed for the mayhem of their minds, minds I could steal with
ease.
    “Savvy! 
Oh God, Savannah.  Say something.  I need to know you’re okay.”
    An
inch of who I’d been for twenty years stepped through the fire, responding to Benn’s
voice. 
    Benn
cried for me, fought for me, even now, even after my lies.
    “If
you don’t let me see her I’ll… shit …find some way to hurt… Fuck !”
    A
few more inches of myself returned, and through my haze of sensation, I almost
wanted to laugh.  Even furious and worried, Benn knew he was no match for three
full-caste demons.  But he meant what he said.  He’d try to hurt them and get
hurt trying to get to me. 
    “Let
him in,” I think I said, but it sounded nothing like me.  It only made me
angrier, sadder, twitchier.  Made me want to let the darkness pull me under again.
    “Savannah,
you’re too—”
    “You
will not keep him from me,” I yelled, the intensity of my voice shocking even
me, and shaking the silver picture frames along my walls. 
    Grayson
didn’t move, so neither did Rowan or Cyrus, but I grabbed Grayson’s shirt and yanked
him down so he was right in my face.  I heard fabric rip, threads snapping one
by one, but didn’t care.
    “Don’t
you dare stop him,” I said, and my voice cracked and lower lip quivered as I
added in what I hoped was a whisper.  “But please…please don’t let me hurt
him.”
    Silver
swirled in the Tempter’s granite eyes, and without a word, Cyrus let Benn go. 
He flew into the room and onto his knees so hard, I knew it had to hurt.  But
he showed no pain.  The Razer in me pushing on the inside of my skin
appreciated his willingness to endure pain.
    “How
you doin’, kid?” he asked smoothly, but I could see his shock at the sight of
me.  God, how much worse could I possibly look?  It wasn’t disgust on Benn’s
face, but he didn’t recognize me.  That, I could tell.  In a way, it hurt more
than the idea of looking even more hideous than before.
    It was
painful, but I swallowed hard before saying, “Did I hurt anyone?”
    Benn’s
eyes flicked behind me, but returned a second later.  “Everyone’s okay.”
    I
whimpered. “Did I kill the store?”
    “Nothing
some tools and a broom won’t fix.”  He hesitated for a second, but put his hand
on my arm.  The sensation from his touch was maddening.  
    Too-hot
tears spilled out of my eyes, burned streams down my cheeks.
    “What
do I always say, Sav?” Benn said frantically because I was crying.  He’d never
seen me cry.  I never had.
    He
sat down in front of me, not taking his hand away.  “Your temper is like a
sparkler on the Fourth of July, right?  White hot and bright, but burns out a
minute later.  I always thought that was awesome, the way you could hate
something so completely for a little while, then, after it was over, be over
it.  You never hold a grudge.  You never bring up stuff from the past to use
against anyone.  Including me.”
    Benn
still felt guilty for the way he treated me when we were younger.  I didn’t
feel bad that he was ashamed to be seen with me then.  I felt bad because he
still worried about it now.  He didn’t know none of that bothered me at all.
    “This
is no different,” he continued.  “Whatever you’re feeling, whatever’s
happening?  The sparkler’s about to burn out.  You’ll be back to your normal self
any second.”
    His
belief that I could get control of this got through.  His words always got
through to me, no matter how deep I was inside the smoke-and-fire.
    “What
if I can’t?” my words thick.
    “Then
we’ll