Phoenix Contract: Part Three (Fallen Angel Watchers) Read Online Free Page A

blonde, blue-eyed Troy boasted the ideal physique of an athlete, tall, lean, and muscular. Cool but classy, he dressed in Abercrombie & Finch coordinates: khaki cargo pants and a baby blue V-neck sweater. He regularly received job offers from the fashionable, exclusive retailer which irritated his Japanese American partner to no end.
    Katsue had once waspishly commented that she could work for them too… if she were willing to clean windows and stay in the back room out of sight. In reply, Troy smirked and suggested that she submit an application. “I know the manager. I’m sure he can get you in.”
    Cutting sarcasm and fierce rivalry were their mode of communication. The first year they’d been assigned to work as a team, Katsue had bought Troy a gay-pride tee shirt from San Francisco during a visit home to see her family. He supposed she’d intended it as a gag-gift, but he’d instantly recognized the underlying challenge. Katsue was the sort of woman who’d take a mile if given an inch.
    A week later he’d given her a pretty pink gift bag tied with matching ribbons. The white tee shirt inside read, “Two Wongs Can Make It White.”
    “I’m Japanese, you asshole!” Katsue had snapped, dark eyes flashing dangerously. She’d flung the offensive shirt, which depicted a Chinese man, down like a gauntlet.
    “And I’m not out of the closet, bitch,” he’d returned snidely. “My sex life is no one’s business but my own. Remember that, and we’ll get along great.”
    That single exchange had set the tone of their partnership, cementing it with rivalry and intense one-upmanship. Differences aside, both were determined professionals, and they developed an innate understanding of one another until they moved with practiced synchronization, communicated volumes with a look or hand signal, and knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses inside and out.
    Liking wasn’t part of their relationship, but it didn’t stand in the way of them doing their jobs. After six years as partners, they were one of the most accomplished and deadly Alastor teams on the East coast.
    Tonight, they were hunting vampires, one in particular that they’d been tracking for the last week. It had been three weeks since Thrash had disappeared, and one since Desdemona Leromenos had called off the search for the missing albino. Troy was furious. Thrash was one of their own and a buddy, and in Troy’s book that warranted more than just two people looking for a couple weeks. Two long weeks.
    He’d protested of course, but Desdemona had overruled him, calling any further investment of time and energy “a waste.” Instead, she sent them vamp hunting. So while Katsue waited outside, Troy entered the Starbucks alone, because he’d been elected to the reluctant role of ‘bait.’ Their objective was to lure a pretty young female vampire away from the crowd so they could isolate and kill her.
    “Go on. It’s your turn to be the bait,” Katsue had said, eyes alight with glee. She barely restrained laughter as her partner’s face twisted into a grimace. She delighted in his discomfort. “I’ll wait outside, and don’t sweat it. If you strike out, then I’ll have a go at her.” With a wink, she melted into the shifting crowd.
    Troy exhaled heavily, staring at the sandy blonde with obvious reluctance. About five-five, slender and attractive, she dressed in blue jeans, an orange baby doll tee shirt, and white Nikes. She wore her hair loose to the shoulders, and it curled outward with a cute little flip.
    Deliberately, Troy got into line. Standing three people behind the blonde, he watched her without being too obvious about it. She ordered a Vanilla Latte, Grande, and told the girl at the register her name was Cheryl.
    Troy waited his turn and ordered a Venti Tazo Chai Crème, distractedly giving the girl at the register his name and money. He motioned to the tip jar, not wanting to wait for his change, then stuffed his wallet back into his