Read Online Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2) by Morgan Blayde - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Morgan Blayde
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Achill’s attention. Settling at the end of the bar, he studied us.
I held a finger up for William to see. “One, I asked her. I didn’t order.” I held up another finger, curving them so I could poke him in the eyes if he lunged. “And two, fuck you.”
William jerked, attempting to climb the bar and rip out my throat. My protective tat warmed and a partial barrier formed between us, smacking him back onto his stool. By then, I had my PPK in hand, the barrel pointed at his face.
My cold, self-indulgent smile is the last thing some people see on Earth. It’s not pretty. I gave that smile to William. And I didn’t forget the other threat in the room. With peripheral vision, I caught a yellow flash as Achill’s eyes ignited. I shifted to see him better without losing track of William. Achill’s face showed cold intensity, but not true anger. I hadn’t hurt one of his wolves—yet.
The air grew damp with a sea salt smell. Magic rolled over us in thick, crushing waves, then withdrew like a tide. Old Man’s magic, nearly slipping the chain, sent a warning. He said, “Caine, put the gun down. If you kill the wolves, who am I going to play chess with? You? You always kick the board over when I’m about to win.”
I put the gun down. “Fine, I’ll play nice. By the way, where are Kimberly and her pet monkey?”
Old Man’s brow furrowed. “She retired to her room, said something about getting some dream time in so she could report to her Mistress. The fey is probably watching over her while she sleeps.”
I took the obsidian bottle and backed up to the wine cellar elevator. “Fine. I’m going down to work on my zombie apocalypse suit.”
Achill ’s dark eyes glinted. His smile came out from hiding. “Really? You got one of those too? Re-enforced poly-carbon micro fibers?”
“A serious warrior would use nothing less.” I pushed the call button and waited for him to come around the bar and join me. The doors opened and we got on. “You can look, but don’t touch.” The doors closed and we rode down.
My apocalypse suit was made of light-weight Kevlar with woven tungsten fibers. Small pieces of plating covered vital areas. The outfit had been painted matte black and had leather harnesses containing four PPKs, various grenades, a combat knife, and short swords crossed in back where they could be easily reached. I’d been soaking the armor in eldritch energy for a year now, making a sort of mystic battery out of it. As zombie apocalypse suits went, this was top of the line.
Achill was in for a hell of a surprise.
The doors clacked open. We stepped out into moderate gloom, the lamps of the armory section throwing long shadows across the basement, over the glass doors of the wine coolers. My computer monitor was on as well, though I don’t remember leaving it that way.
I pulled both PPKs, hearing a foot scrape up ahead, seeing a shifting shadow where no shadow was supposed to be. “Who’s there?” I called.
There was a sinister laughter, a foul rotting stench, and a swirl of midnight green cloak—and I had my answer. Autumn fey. The one I saw in Dallas by the burning car. He’s not only traced me, but he’s broken in through the Old Man’s protective wards, probably weakening them with rot.
And he seemed to be holding some of my property.
“Put down the apocalypse suit and your death will be merciful,” I promised.
His cold, mocking laugh came again, followed by a few of the flash grenades off my suit. They smacked to the floor and bounced toward us.
“Fuck me blind!” Achill cursed.
SEVEN
Never trust anything that bleeds
for five days and doesn’t die.
— Caine
I held a finger up for William to see. “One, I asked her. I didn’t order.” I held up another finger, curving them so I could poke him in the eyes if he lunged. “And two, fuck you.”
William jerked, attempting to climb the bar and rip out my throat. My protective tat warmed and a partial barrier formed between us, smacking him back onto his stool. By then, I had my PPK in hand, the barrel pointed at his face.
My cold, self-indulgent smile is the last thing some people see on Earth. It’s not pretty. I gave that smile to William. And I didn’t forget the other threat in the room. With peripheral vision, I caught a yellow flash as Achill’s eyes ignited. I shifted to see him better without losing track of William. Achill’s face showed cold intensity, but not true anger. I hadn’t hurt one of his wolves—yet.
The air grew damp with a sea salt smell. Magic rolled over us in thick, crushing waves, then withdrew like a tide. Old Man’s magic, nearly slipping the chain, sent a warning. He said, “Caine, put the gun down. If you kill the wolves, who am I going to play chess with? You? You always kick the board over when I’m about to win.”
I put the gun down. “Fine, I’ll play nice. By the way, where are Kimberly and her pet monkey?”
Old Man’s brow furrowed. “She retired to her room, said something about getting some dream time in so she could report to her Mistress. The fey is probably watching over her while she sleeps.”
I took the obsidian bottle and backed up to the wine cellar elevator. “Fine. I’m going down to work on my zombie apocalypse suit.”
Achill ’s dark eyes glinted. His smile came out from hiding. “Really? You got one of those too? Re-enforced poly-carbon micro fibers?”
“A serious warrior would use nothing less.” I pushed the call button and waited for him to come around the bar and join me. The doors opened and we got on. “You can look, but don’t touch.” The doors closed and we rode down.
My apocalypse suit was made of light-weight Kevlar with woven tungsten fibers. Small pieces of plating covered vital areas. The outfit had been painted matte black and had leather harnesses containing four PPKs, various grenades, a combat knife, and short swords crossed in back where they could be easily reached. I’d been soaking the armor in eldritch energy for a year now, making a sort of mystic battery out of it. As zombie apocalypse suits went, this was top of the line.
Achill was in for a hell of a surprise.
The doors clacked open. We stepped out into moderate gloom, the lamps of the armory section throwing long shadows across the basement, over the glass doors of the wine coolers. My computer monitor was on as well, though I don’t remember leaving it that way.
I pulled both PPKs, hearing a foot scrape up ahead, seeing a shifting shadow where no shadow was supposed to be. “Who’s there?” I called.
There was a sinister laughter, a foul rotting stench, and a swirl of midnight green cloak—and I had my answer. Autumn fey. The one I saw in Dallas by the burning car. He’s not only traced me, but he’s broken in through the Old Man’s protective wards, probably weakening them with rot.
And he seemed to be holding some of my property.
“Put down the apocalypse suit and your death will be merciful,” I promised.
His cold, mocking laugh came again, followed by a few of the flash grenades off my suit. They smacked to the floor and bounced toward us.
“Fuck me blind!” Achill cursed.
SEVEN
Never trust anything that bleeds
for five days and doesn’t die.
— Caine
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