Emissary by A.L. Morrow EPUB & PDF

Emissary by A.L. Morrow EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

  •  Author: A.L. Morrow
  •  Language: English
  •  Formats: PDF / EPUB
  •  Status: Available For Free Download
  •  Series: None
  •  Price: Free
  •  File Size: 2 MB

MALAKAI 
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil 
It wasn’t a demotion. Oberon had said so himself. It wasn’t a punishment,
either.

But as Kai shifted on the rusty metal bench, watching the figures
trading jabs in the dusty pit before him, it certainly felt like both.
“This is what passes for entertainment in the mortal realm?” he asked the
portly male to his left.

For a moment, Nash offered no reply. Kai was unsure if his companion
had even heard him. The other male simply stared at the scene below with
fascination, carefully following each swing and swift kick exchanged. His
hand moved at his side absentmindedly, imitating the quick cutting motions
and stabbing thrusts, and he licked his lips with longing, as if he ached to be
sparring alongside the fighters.

Finally, Nash glanced at Kai, beholding him as though he were a
distraction—a gnat or a fly circling his head.
“Entertainment, yes. For some, anyway.” He blinked and turned back to
the match. His hand motions resumed immediately. “For you, however, this
is training,” he added without meeting Kai’s stare.
“Training …” Kai echoed, unimpressed.

Crossing his arms over his wide, muscular chest, he watched the figures
in the pit continue to attack each other. Blood and sweat dripped from their
brows. One fighter’s eye was so swollen from a punch he could barely hold it
open. And his opponent seemed to be favoring his left leg, his ankle injured,
perhaps.

“Yet it seems so … uncivilized,” Kai mused. His voice was low and soft,
barely more than a dull rumble. He’d learned centuries ago that he had no
need to speak louder. A murmur was formidable enough when paired with his
stark features and dark wings.
“It’s supposed to be uncivilized.” Nash snorted. If Kai’s voice was velvet,
his had all the grace of a fraying burlap sack. “It’s demonic martial arts, not
the Seraphim ballet.”
“And what, exactly, am I meant to be learning from the demons? I have
means of destruction at my disposal that far surpass the strength of any punch
or kick.”

As though to prove Kai’s point about demonic inadequacy, one of the
fighters promptly took a hard kick to the jaw, spun dazedly, and fell to the
ground, spitting blood and teeth. He wallowed in the dirt while the seconds
ticked by, chest heaving as he gasped for air. Cheers and clapping rose from
the surrounding bleachers, the audience pleased with the turn of events.
Surprisingly, Nash seemed to be right. The spectators truly did find this
entertaining.

“You are meant to study the way the demons move. Learn their tricks.
Understand the cunning in their ways,” Nash replied.
When the fallen demon slowly drew himself back up to his feet, the
crowd let out another roar of approval. The fighter dragged his bare forearm
across his mouth, smearing the blood from his cracked lip, then snarled and
crouched, poised to launch a counteroffensive on his opponent. His eyes
changed color—a blazing amber roiling in his irises. Briefly, a pair of black
horns curled up along his hairline to crown him. Then, as he regained his
focus, they disappeared, and the demon could almost pass for human once
more.

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