Dirty Angel (Sainted Sinners #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

didn’t notice him at all.
    As soon as they were past him, he slipped out and went on his way. A few long strides down the tunnel though, he heard one of the Karast demons give a loud shriek. He whirled, expecting to see one of them coming at him, though he was still throwing a shield.
    But no. Down the tunnel, he saw one of the Karast come barreling toward him, making an alarming sound. Kirael spotted a golden blade jutting from the side of its neck, and blue-black blood gushing from the wound.
    Muttering a curse, Kirael held out his right hand and summoned his own sword into existence. The cool, heavy steel was a comforting weight in his hand as he raised it and lunged forward, thrusting the blade into the Karast’s belly.
    The demon crashed to a gurgling halt, then gave a final shriek as it went up in a puff of brimstone and dust. He didn’t speak the demon’s language, but he was fairly certain that its last words had been a warning. Which meant that he couldn’t leave the other one alive, lest it run off and start talking.
    Snatching up the blade when it clattered to the floor, he vanished it to his storage bolt-hole as he focused on the second demon. One small part of his brain was still working through the concept of where the golden blade might have come from. Unfortunately, the realization that there was likely a third party came a little late.
    He found the other Karast grappling with, of all things, a human woman. Not one from The Dunes, either. Kirael could recognize a hellbound soul from a mile away, they got this look about them when soul was starting to part from body.
    This woman… well, her soul was firmly attached to her body. Physically, all Kirael could take in was that she had a long, dark rope braid, pale skin, and leather head to foot. She held a second blade, something between a knife and a short sword. Seconds after he spotted her, she dispatched the second Karast, severing its head.
    It the dusty puff of smoke it left behind, Kirael and the woman stared at each other.
    Damn, he did not need this right now, whatever this was. She started toward him, determination stamped on her face.
    “Stop!” he called, lowering his sword.
    She didn’t.
    “You’ll raise the alarms,” he warned, but she didn’t slow. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m sure you’re not supposed to be here.”
    Then she raised her hand, holding a glass orb filled with yellow mist.
    “Shit,” he muttered. She was going to try to orb him, trap him and transport him… well, undoubtedly somewhere he didn’t want to go.
    Vanishing his sword, he moved his left foot up and leaned slightly forward, ready to take whatever she was going to dish out. As soon as she was close enough, he threw out a warning: “Do not throw that orb. You’ll die where you stand, and I won’t be able to help.”
    He saw half a moment’s hesitation on her face, then she shook her head. She rushed at him, and he realized that she planned to smash the orb into his flesh. She must only have one shot if she was so unwilling to chance missing him with a bad throw.
    “Fuck,” he whispered, both his hands snapping out to block the downward arcs of the orb and the dagger, respectively.
    He caught her wrist, preventing her from crashing the orb into his shoulder, but fumbled the other hand. She plunged her dagger directly into the back of his shoulder. He managed to twist away from her at the last moment, but she still landed it all too close to his heart. It slid straight through him, back to front, an inch from snagging his collarbone.
    “Fuck!” he said, releasing her wrist and jerking away from her so that she couldn’t yank the blade free. “Are you fucking crazy?”
    She snarled, and he sensed her frenzy; she truly wanted or needed to capture him, that much was certain. He heard a distant sound; no doubt someone coming to investigate the noise and the twin surges of power from Kirael and the woman dispatching the Karast demons.
    “For