Cairax and Maxwell’s deal

Cairax Murrain turned to them. A pile of dismembered exes had grown near the demon. The heads still shifted and twitched. Their lack of leverage muffled the click-click-click of their jaws. “At last,” it said. “Claim your prize, dearest Maxwell, and then both sides of our contract have been fulfilled.”
Smoke poured from St. George’s mouth and nostril. The tattoos were tingling under his shirt. It felt like they were moving. “You don’t want to do this, Max,” he said. “I know you’re better than this.”
“Sorry,” the sorcerer said. “I guess you don’t know me.”
St. George scowled and ****ed in a little more air.
Max shook his head. “Don’t waste your time. It still won’t do anything.”
“It’ll make me feel better.”
“If I cared how you felt, I wouldn’t be trading your soul to a demon. But, if it helps, your body will change just like this one did. I won’t be tricking anyone into thinking I’m you or any of that sort of—”

Excerpt From Ex-Communication, pg 428
Peter Clines
https://books.apple.com/us/book/ex-communication/id635706546