Read Online Phoenix Contract: Part Five (Fallen Angel Watchers) by Melissa Thomas - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Melissa Thomas
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he’s a friend of mine.” Friend was a gross exaggeration, but she wasn’t quibbling over technicalities now.
Magnus had already proven that he was bulletproof, and Aiden wasn’t suffering any delusions. He was both tall enough and good enough to shoot over her head without hitting her. The real question that remained was whether he’d had an opportunity to reload the gun. She knew he was fast. But how fast exactly?
Magnus snickered. “I have to agree. That’s a ridiculous accusation if you know her. Aiden is as stubborn—”
“Oh, be quiet! You’re not helping.” Aiden glared at Magnus and then slowly swiveled to face Tristan. She raised beseeching hands.
“Move out of the way, Aiden. I understand that you have no control over what you’re doing,” Tristan instructed. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you give me no other choice.”
Aiden realized with fresh fear that the gun was aimed at her. She hadn’t expected him to threaten her, although maybe she should have, because she knew less about Tristan Talcott than she did about Magnus.
“Tristan, I know this is hard to believe, but I am not under his control. Look in my eyes. Listen to me. I’m in full possession of my faculties.”
“I’m going to tell you one last time,” Tristan rasped. “Move out of the way. Stop protecting him or you’re going to force my hand.”
“She’s protecting you from me, you halfwit,” Magnus muttered in disgust. “I’ve had enough.”
Magnus moved past Aiden so fast that she only registered a blur as he seized Tristan’s wrist and forced the gun’s muzzle toward the ground. A single thunderous roar sounded as the Ruger discharged once.
Tristan reeled, staggered, and barely kept his footing. Magnus punched the boy in the face, plucked the Ruger from the teen’s hand, and casually tossed the gun aside. Another punch rendered Tristan unconscious, and he dropped to the ground.
Magnus and Aiden were left standing amongst the fallen.
“They’re still alive,” Magnus said, plainly expecting recognition for the effort he’d made.
“Thank you,” Aiden snapped. “I realize how much of a hardship not killing them was on you.”
“Not so much of a hardship,” came the disgruntled reply. “Matthew frequently asked me not to kill.” The sound of the priest’s name spoken aloud hurt, and Aiden averted her gaze from Magnus.
Aiden allowed her gaze to move from one young man to the next, thankful that they were still alive, but full of misgivings over how easily they’d been defeated. Kieran, who’d seemed to be the strongest of the four, had been taken down with a single blow. The same was true of the twins, and Tristan had withstood two whole punches before he also succumbed.
“I can’t drag them into this. I’ll only get them killed,” she muttered with a dawning realization. These men were strong, vital, but were only human.
“Who are they, anyway?” Magnus inquired, conveying only casual interest with those expressive vocals that carried emotion like music.
“Members of House Armaros,” she said, offering the simple explanation, the one that would satisfy him. “They were sent to retrieve me.”
“Ahh.”
Through narrowed eyes, she regarded the Celtic warrior she’d inherited from Father Matthew. How long would this odd relationship last? Honestly, she’d halfway expected to find him gone once he was released from his final promise to the priest.
“An unlikely ally,” Aiden mumbled, too low and incoherent to be heard except in her own thoughts.
“Aiden, did you say something?” Magnus strode toward her, a towering silhouette in his black leather bat-cloak, both killer and protector. The brief battle had made no impression on the Celt who had only the barest comprehension of human frailty. And he was powerful beyond imagination...
She had no idea whether she could trust Magnus, especially in light of the Celt’s bloody past and Matthew’s recent death. And yet,
Magnus had already proven that he was bulletproof, and Aiden wasn’t suffering any delusions. He was both tall enough and good enough to shoot over her head without hitting her. The real question that remained was whether he’d had an opportunity to reload the gun. She knew he was fast. But how fast exactly?
Magnus snickered. “I have to agree. That’s a ridiculous accusation if you know her. Aiden is as stubborn—”
“Oh, be quiet! You’re not helping.” Aiden glared at Magnus and then slowly swiveled to face Tristan. She raised beseeching hands.
“Move out of the way, Aiden. I understand that you have no control over what you’re doing,” Tristan instructed. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you give me no other choice.”
Aiden realized with fresh fear that the gun was aimed at her. She hadn’t expected him to threaten her, although maybe she should have, because she knew less about Tristan Talcott than she did about Magnus.
“Tristan, I know this is hard to believe, but I am not under his control. Look in my eyes. Listen to me. I’m in full possession of my faculties.”
“I’m going to tell you one last time,” Tristan rasped. “Move out of the way. Stop protecting him or you’re going to force my hand.”
“She’s protecting you from me, you halfwit,” Magnus muttered in disgust. “I’ve had enough.”
Magnus moved past Aiden so fast that she only registered a blur as he seized Tristan’s wrist and forced the gun’s muzzle toward the ground. A single thunderous roar sounded as the Ruger discharged once.
Tristan reeled, staggered, and barely kept his footing. Magnus punched the boy in the face, plucked the Ruger from the teen’s hand, and casually tossed the gun aside. Another punch rendered Tristan unconscious, and he dropped to the ground.
Magnus and Aiden were left standing amongst the fallen.
“They’re still alive,” Magnus said, plainly expecting recognition for the effort he’d made.
“Thank you,” Aiden snapped. “I realize how much of a hardship not killing them was on you.”
“Not so much of a hardship,” came the disgruntled reply. “Matthew frequently asked me not to kill.” The sound of the priest’s name spoken aloud hurt, and Aiden averted her gaze from Magnus.
Aiden allowed her gaze to move from one young man to the next, thankful that they were still alive, but full of misgivings over how easily they’d been defeated. Kieran, who’d seemed to be the strongest of the four, had been taken down with a single blow. The same was true of the twins, and Tristan had withstood two whole punches before he also succumbed.
“I can’t drag them into this. I’ll only get them killed,” she muttered with a dawning realization. These men were strong, vital, but were only human.
“Who are they, anyway?” Magnus inquired, conveying only casual interest with those expressive vocals that carried emotion like music.
“Members of House Armaros,” she said, offering the simple explanation, the one that would satisfy him. “They were sent to retrieve me.”
“Ahh.”
Through narrowed eyes, she regarded the Celtic warrior she’d inherited from Father Matthew. How long would this odd relationship last? Honestly, she’d halfway expected to find him gone once he was released from his final promise to the priest.
“An unlikely ally,” Aiden mumbled, too low and incoherent to be heard except in her own thoughts.
“Aiden, did you say something?” Magnus strode toward her, a towering silhouette in his black leather bat-cloak, both killer and protector. The brief battle had made no impression on the Celt who had only the barest comprehension of human frailty. And he was powerful beyond imagination...
She had no idea whether she could trust Magnus, especially in light of the Celt’s bloody past and Matthew’s recent death. And yet,
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