Free Pandora's Box by Gracen Miller Page A

deal with. And if she were dead, what would they do with Amos?
    Nix jabbed his fingers through his hair and reminded himself not to jump the gun. One step at a time, take it slow, assess the entirety of the situation. First was confirming Madison’s status.
    Taking a moment to collect himself, he breathed in and out, all the while commanding himself to calm down and get a fucking grip on his rampaging emotions. Once his heart rate slowed a fraction, he adjusted the position of his fingertips and waited. A slow, steady tap hit his pads.
    Oh, thank you, God!
    “Momma hurt?” Amos asked in a small voice, sounding like a two-year-old rather than a boy of five.
    “A little, but—”
    “Good.”
    Nix whipped his head around, his neck cracking from the force of the movement.
    The child smiled and his eyes spiked anew, closer to the shade of burnt orange. “So hungry. I drink Momma’s blood?”
    Horrified by the question more than the sight of the demon flinging Madison on the bed, Nix stared mutely at the child. Drink his mother’s blood? Did he drink the blood of the animals he killed, too? As far as he knew, only two supernatural creatures drank blood. Vampires and demons. Neither were rays of sunbeams and puppy dog kisses. And they both gained power by ingesting the blood of their victims.
    “No,” Nix said in the most authoritative voice he could project. Inside he quivered and prayed there’d be something in the Sherlock Handbook to guide them accurately. “You cannot ever drink Momma’s blood.”
    None of this made sense. Running a hand down his face, he thought they might be in way over their heads. He made a promise to Madison not to give up and, for good or bad, he’d keep his word. It didn’t matter the little voice in his head screamed run! He couldn’t save others if he found his way to an early grave.
    With the flat of his palm, he tapped her on the cheek. “Madison. Wake up, Madison.”
    She groaned, and he tapped the other cheek.
    “Ow!” She swatted at his hand, blinked, and blinked again. “Amos?”
    “Momma!” Amos scrambled onto the bed and lay down by her side, positioning his head on her shoulder, wrapping his little arm around her waist. Even in the dark, he could tell the child’s eyes were back to normal.
    Madison rubbed Amos’s back. “It’s okay, sweet boy.”
    Sweet boy? Pfft…only if you enjoyed psychotic rages, creepy orange-red eyes, and children who drank blood .
    “Demon?” Her voice sounded scratchy.
    He nearly said he didn’t know. He realized almost too late she referred to the presence in her room and not her son.
    “Gone.” Nix brushed his knuckles across her cheek and she flinched. “Sorry.” She nodded, or at least he thought she did. In the dark room, he couldn’t be sure. “I’m going to get the lights.”
    She caught his hand before he could move off the bed. “Was that a demon?”
    “I—” He thought so. The creature sure smelled like a demon, and the thunderstorm vanished when he did, the full moon shining through her bedroom window proof the weather was a direct result of the presence. The way the creature reacted to the demonic bullets left him confused and unsure. “I…um…think so.”

Chapter Twelve

    Madison sat on the sofa, Amos clutched in her arms. Her throat ached, her cheek burned, and the inside of her mouth felt like someone had taken a cheese grater to the delicate flesh. Fighting back tears, Phoenix blurred in her line of sight. To say she suffered from shock failed to come close to what she really felt. Nothing could explain the terror of having a demon in her bedroom. Or being choked by one of Hell’s residents. All of which waned to the horror of her son choosing a demon over his mother.
    Not sure she wanted to know what happened in her bedroom after she blacked out; she only knew Phoenix hadn’t abandoned her. Like he should have.
    A demon…she shuddered. All this time, her father had spoken the truth. The horror of an