Free Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2) by Morgan Blayde Page A

glance.  “When one has a combat butler, one is supposed to summon him for situations such as this.”
I shrugged off his words, but he had a point.  The man had a job description to live up to.
The taxrasque scurried at Haziar, but changed course at the last moment as the bodyguard’s sword flashed down, just missing.  The taxrasque sprang up at Achill. 
The Fenris kicked it toward William like a giant football. 
William ducked under, but the tail flailed under its body this time, furrowing the Alpha’s back.  William shivered and howled.  He tried to get up, but collapsed to his knees.
Osamu assumed a combat stance with knees bent, body poised to move explosively in a relaxed burst of power.  He stretched out his hand, as the little monster oriented on him, hissing once more.  The corner of Osamu’s jaw knotted.  He closed his hand, but not on emptiness.  Thanks to the brand seared into his right palm, the demon sword bonded to him materialized, answering his silent call.  Garnets winked like dull red stars in the circular webbing of the hand guard.  A yellow tiger’s eye glowered from the pommel.  It was long for a katana, glossy black with graphite ripples along its edge.
The dark energy of demon curses had been hammered in at its forging.  In Osamu’s hand, the sword thrummed softly in joyous anticipation of the kill.
The taxrasque bounced at Osamu.
The PPK in my right hand bucked as I shot out its eyes, splattering viscous gunk.  It shrilled in fury, its wounded head ducking back inside the shell.
Osamu closed with the beast, a blur of motion, the demon sword a black, screaming wind.  Osamu ended his lunge, spinning back toward the demon.  It lay in several large chunks on the floor, each one quivering like Jell-O.  We all closed in to watch as the beast melted into green goo, raising blobby filaments that swayed like something from the bottom of the sea.  The strands snaked out and meshed with those from other chunks as the monster began to literally pull itself together.
The room lights flickered, went out, and returned as the maintenance spells set in the building engaged, dealing with the problem, whatever it was.
By this time, Old Man had returned from the basement.  He broke into the circle of spectators, peering down at the taxrasque in mild curiosity.  He shifted his eyes to me.  “Caine, this is the only time the monster can be truly destroyed.  Before it finishes solidifying, you need to burn it out of existence.”
“My dragon flame will seriously do damage to more than just the taxrasque.”
Old Man sighed.  “Can’t be helped.”
“All right.”  My Dragon Flame tattoo ignited as if taxrasque venom had seeped under my skin and melted out a huge pocket of flesh.  I swallowed a scream, forcing my breath to go deep and slow.  Sensation is a ghost in the mind.  Embracing the ghost, becoming one with it, kept me functional when anyone else would have curled up in shock, waiting to die. 
The pain faded as dragon magic boosted my strength and stamina to superhuman levels, a simmering, seething tide of heat that made my whole body feel as if it were expanding under the influx of power.  My clothes burned to ashes as red-orange fire enveloped my arms, bursting from my chest to mask my face.  My palms point ed down at the pieces of green gummy monster.
My dragon fire washed over the taxrasque, rippling out for five feet from its pieces.  Comically, the wolves leaped back cursing, flames licking at their toes.  Osamu stood relaxed, his thrumming sword pointed into the flames, curling them back from him.
It’s good to have a demon sword .
A circular patch of flooring burned away, showing bare concrete.  A heavy wet mist slid off the Old Man’s skin.  The cloud hugged the floor, circling my dragon flame to keep the rest of the room from catching fire.
Despite the dragon flame, the taxrasque continued to pull its chunks together.  Becoming one mass, it bubbled, a greenish