Anghellic: Feathers and Fire Book 8 by Shayne Silvers

Author:Shayne Silvers [Silvers, Shayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Argento Publishing, LLC
Published: 2020-05-14T16:00:00+00:00

29

Legion shuffled into view with a notepad in hand, scribbling on the page with a pen that looked to be made from finger bones. Yuck. The clapping sound continued for a few moments, telling me Legion had a friend with him. I shifted my boots in each direction but only detected a tingle when pointing at Legion. I frowned warily, wondering who the non-demon clapper was.

Legion studied the pile of black ash where the thorns had been, looking annoyed and muttering under his breath. He made a notation on his notebook. Then he turned to look at the white areas I had made. I watched, smugly, as he absently lowered his notepad to his side, his mouth falling open in disbelief. He quickly shook off the incredulity and resorted to counting the silhouettes. Then he shrugged, disappointedly, scribbling on his notepad.

“All eighteen are accounted for, my Lord. Six, six, six,” he said, chuckling at his little joke as he pointed out the pile of dead demons and the two incineration zones I’d made. “The temporary barrier is down,” he said, likely referring to the ward created by the dead ninjas. Then he turned to assess me with an awed look on his face, noticing my clothes were pristine and that I only had what looked like a bloody lip. His eyes flicked to the Spear, but his face remained blank. After a moment, he dipped his hat at me and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

I took a moment to collect myself, making sure my face showed nothing—not surprise or pain or concern. Whoever Legion’s Lord was, he needed to think that the Spear and I were old pals—not that the outburst of power had been as much of a surprise to me as it had been to my foes.

I scowled in the direction Legion faced when he had been speaking and waited. A new figure calmly walked into view from out of the shadows, and I squinted, trying to make out anything other than his silhouette. My boots still didn’t tingle, even though Legion had called the stranger Lord.

“Eighteen of my demons and you’re not even breathing heavily,” the figure said, in a rich, sophisticated voice, his body still cloaked in shadows.

“The poor dears tripped down some stairs,” I said with faux innocence.

He chuckled good naturedly and I finally got a good look at him.

Like all of the worst kinds of men, he was inhumanly beautiful—emphasis on inhuman. And my boots still weren’t tingling, although the man had said the demons belonged to him. Which made me very nervous. His smile told me he knew it—glancing down at my boots and then winking at me was overkill.

He moved in a confident, lazy stroll as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His tan skin was unblemished, and he had long, dark hair that looked professionally styled. His face was perfectly sculpted, and he had just the right amount of stubble to make his impossibly pale—almost white—blue eyes shine like ring lights.

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