Her Demon Prince (Forbidden Fantasy) by Cathleen Ross Read Free Book Online Page B

demon’s lips, his gaze intent on the angel. “You took
off your mother’s head. How fitting. You would have done that if your father
had ordered it.”
    “King
Sol loved my mother unlike the demon princess that bred you.”
    The
angel left trails of silver on the studio floor as he moved, but there was
nothing lighthearted about his expression as his crystal-blue eyes narrowed. “I
heard your mother begged to see you before she died but the king didn’t want you
contaminated with her evil. It didn’t work anyway because you are demon spawn.”
    Agrat’s
eyes turned to fire.
    Phoebe
shuddered.
    The
men circled each other, their hatred palpable. The demon outweighed the angel
who had a leaner, younger figure. Agrat was muscular and well built for
fighting, but unlike the angel he wasn’t armed.
    Until
a red fireball that looked like it had been conjured from hell grew in his
hand.
    Phoebe
edged toward the door.
    The
demon advanced on the angel, his back to Phoebe, throwing fireball after
fireball, which Galaden deflected with his sword.
    Statues
exploded, their white marble shards piercing the walls and littering the floor.
    The
angel brought his sword down to take off the demon’s head in a grand sweeping
motion but the demon leapt aside, his body fluid, his muscles contracting and
bunching like an experienced street fighter’s. But these men were not mortal.
    Their
power was magnificent and deadly.
    The
demon punched Galaden sending him flying across the studio. He slammed into the
wall. Before he recovered, Agrat leapt across the space, wrenched the sword
from his hand and held it to his throat so that he was forced to kneel at the
demon’s feet. “You’ll die before you touch my woman.”
    “She
doesn’t want you,” Galaden said. “I owned her far longer than you, and I have a
mind to possess her again. She brings great fey power from the people of the
North.” The angel’s beautiful cream and silver wings were spread wide in a
magnificent fan, but Phoebe only had eyes for Agrat. Shameful lust flickered
between her legs as she admired the powerful strength of him.
    “She.
Is. Mine.” His eyes focused with deadly intent as his arm tensed and he drove
the blade into the angel’s throat.
    Rachael
let out a high-pitched scream.
    Phoebe
turned to see Rachael had returned with a policeman, a burly New York cop.
    The
policeman stormed into the room, his gun drawn, his face expressing amazement
at the strange scene. “Police. Drop the weapon. Hands up.”
    Agrat
whirled around to face the officer, dropped the sword and narrowed his eyes.
    Phoebe’s
stomach turned in sickening horror. Blood gushed from the angel’s throat. His
hands clutched at the wound in his attempt to staunch the flow. How could he
still be alive with an injury like that?
    The
policeman strode over to Agrat. “Hands up.”
    Agrat
pointed his fingers at the cop. The strange red energy that Phoebe had
experienced flowed from his fingers to the policeman. “There is no problem
here.”
    Galaden
reached out and grabbed his sword with silver, blood-soaked fingers, struggled
to his feet and vanished.
    The
officer blinked, looked over the scene and blinked again. Aside from the
damaged sculptures, there was no angel and no blood. Even the silver glitter
that had spread across the floor from the angel’s wings had disappeared.
    “Put
away your weapon.” Arm outstretched, Agrat continued to point at the officer
who lowered his gun. The energy seemed to weave its way around the policeman’s
body, coating him so that he appeared to be surrounded by a fine, red mist.
    The
officer, his face blank, pushed his gun back into its holster.
    “Leave!”
Agrat ordered.
    The
officer turned and walked toward the door.
    Agrat's
words shocked Phoebe into action. She bolted to the door, but it slammed shut
in front of her. Gripping the cop by both arms, she shook him, trying to get
him to respond. “Don’t leave me here with this monster.”
    “She
is