Free The Devil's Fool (Devil Series Book One) by Rachel McClellan

soon.
    “Please, love. I’m dying here,” Boaz said while the horse repeatedly turned its head to nip at his thigh.
    Boaz looked so helpless I just couldn’t say no. One little spell wouldn’t hurt, right?
    “Very well, but I’m doing it for the horse’s sake,” I said. “He looks extremely uncomfortable.”
    “
He
looks uncomfortable?”
    My smile widened, and I closed my eyes. After a deep breath, I tried to think of something I hated as that was the only way I knew to call upon my abilities. Immediately, an image of a black widow spider appeared. Erik had once used the spiders on me when I was twelve. I’d remained as still as possible while they climbed up my legs, but one of them still bit me. Erik finally removed them when I’d passed out from the poison, making me incapable of using magic even if I’d wanted to. That’s when my hatred for spiders had first begun. I used that hate now to do as Boaz asked.
    Like always, the negative emotion made using my abilities possible. My feet tingled as if they were asleep and, slowly, I let the energy crawl up my legs, careful to keep it under control. I approached the excited horse and placed my hand upon its neck. In my mind, over the image of crawling black spiders, I pictured an open pasture full of white daisies. At the far end of the field, a herd of wild horses ran free.
Peace
, I thought, and transferred the calming image to the horse. Beneath my hand, the bulging neck muscles of the stallion relaxed. The horse stomped a few times before it finally lowered its head. Its eyes glazed over, and it stilled.
    Once again, the use of magic gave me an incredible feeling of power. It made me lightheaded but in an enjoyable way. I almost didn’t want to let go of the hate that allowed the power to remain, but the horrible smell it produced forced me to push away the images of the black widows. I didn’t think I would ever get used to the smell.
    “Thank you, love, much better,” Boaz said. “Now that I don’t have a horse trying to kill me, I can be more polite. Have you enjoyed your morning?”
    “It’s been wonderful. You have an amazing home and grounds to match. I could spend days exploring.”
    “I’m glad you find it satisfactory. If you didn’t, I would have to change it all.”
    I laughed. “You would do that for me?”
    “In a heartbeat.”
    When I realized he was serious, I said, “Boaz, this is all fabulous”—I gestured around with my hand—“and so much like a beautiful fairytale, but I must confess, it’s not what I want.”
    “And what do you want?”
    I glanced past him. In the distance, the morning sun crested the tops of the trees, bathing them in a warm glow. “To be free from our world. To live among the humans as one of them.” I paused. “And I want answers. I have so many questions about myself, my parents, and even you.”
    “I will answer what I can. But first, come with me. I want to show you something.” He offered his hand.
    I glanced at his open palm, wondering if the creased lines could tell me something about his past.
    “Don’t you trust me?” he asked.
    I met his gaze high up on the horse. “No, I don’t.”
    “If I wanted to hurt you, than I wouldn’t have saved you. Now please, let’s go before it begins to snow.”
    He had a point. Despite my conflicting feelings toward him, he had been nothing but kind to me. I lifted my hand. Boaz took hold of it and effortlessly lifted me onto the back of the horse. I wrapped my arms around his solid torso and hung on tightly. A growing buzzing sensation vibrated my skin in a pleasurable way, much to my dismay. I wondered if Boaz felt it, too, but wasn’t about to ask.
    Alternating between a fast gallop and a slow walk, we rode the horse for what seemed like a long time over rough terrain through the dark forest. The area was hilly here, and in some spots the horse struggled to maintain its footing on the rocky path. Boaz only stopped when we approached a