Phoenix Contract: Part Two (Fallen Angel Watchers) Read Free Page A

your pet have a name?”
    “The cloak is called Draco,” Magnus replied. “You’re back.”
    “I find this form pleasing.” The demon sniffed. “Draco, very amusing. Is that from Harry Potter or Star Wars ?”
    Magnus smiled to show teeth. “None of your business.”
    “As much fun as I’m having playing, I do find your bad attitude tedious. You see, I’m trying to locate an artifact very precious to me which dear Thrash here once had in his possession. Unfortunately, I’ve been unable to locate this artifact, and the wild goose chase has led me to you,” the Soul Eater said. “So this is your last chance. Tell me the truth regarding your true nature, or I’ll take it from you by force.” The Soul Eater placed his free hand on Magnus’ chest, pressing all five fingertips into the breastbone over the Celt’s heart.
    Magnus lifted his brow. “Will you?” His tone dropped several octaves, barely louder than a whisper. A wise man would have heard it and recognized the danger.
    The demon continued blithely on.
    “I will. Just. Like. This.” The demon’s fingers sank into Magnus’ chest to the first knuckle. The Soul Eater’s face held expectation.
    Magnus narrowed his eyes. “Is this supposed to hurt?”
    Bafflement took the demon’s expression. “Excruciatingly so. You see, I’m reaching for your soul.” His brow furrowed. “Perhaps it’s deeper.” His hand disappeared into Magnus’ bare chest, sinking to the wrist.
    With piqued interest, Magnus looked down to observe. Black and viscous, the section of the demon’s arm adjacent to his wrist rippled like black oil cast in the shape of an arm.
    “Do you feel anything?” the demon asked.
    “It tickles.”
    Uncertainty flickered across the demon’s mobile features. “Do you have a soul? I’d almost have to report that you are soulless.”
    The Celt’s grin turned feral, but the demon, too preoccupied with soul searching, didn’t notice. Magnus allowed his arms to dangle at his sides, then reached back to grasp the cold metal slates with his fingers. Draco, his cloak, clung to his body, twining about torso and limbs, and the hood fell forward over his face.
    The Soul Eater withdrew his hand and gave it a shake as if to restore circulation. “I guess we’ll have to call this a draw.”
    “I don’t think so,” Magnus said flatly. “While you’ve been talking, I’ve been paying attention. You took your best shot. Now it’s my turn.”
    The demon giggled. “Sure, take your best shot.” The Soul Eater stepped back and stood with his eyes closed, arms and legs spread wide. “Go for it.”
    “That I will,” Magnus promised. “One thing you should know. I’m all about winning. No matter what the cost.” He grabbed hold of the steel shutter with all of his might. Metal screeched in protest, and then the hinges busted and tore free. Bright white sunlight flooded the eastern facing window.
    Startled, the Soul Eater opened his eyes and stared directly up into the mid-morning sun. Light filled his eyes and mouth, searing the demon’s face and body to ash which then collapsed. The scream of a thousand souls filled the air, and the glass of the window shattered.
    Magnus bent forward with the shutter on his back. He swung his arms over his head and flung it to the side. Dropping to a crouch, he took cover against the wall beneath the window. The sunlight seared the exposed flesh of his face, arms and chest, his sensitivity to light too great to escape damage. In spite of the cloak’s protection, the smell of burnt flesh, sharp and bitter, filled his nostrils.
    The Soul Eater’s deafening scream continued, unbroken. Protrusions appeared across the surface of the shadowy mass, angry pustules that swelled. One after another, the lesions became human heads, faces contorted in agony. They strained against the burning membrane that held them captive. Hundreds and then thousands of souls writhed within the demonic prison.
    With a boom and a roar,