Demon Master 2 (The Demon Master Series)

by Daniel Pierce

  My eyes opened to stare into hers, and she began a looping grind against me, her slick heat almost inhumanly perfect, the rhythm like a song. When our hips touched, she pulled away, then came back top me, biting hard at my lips, her tongue flickering out in an up-an-down motion that left me reaching for her even I thrust up harder and harder like some kind of mad bull.

  In a single motion, her chest was bare and each breast filled my mouth, one at a time, her small hands on the back of my head as she pushed me against her nipples, my teeth nipping lightly-- and then not so lightly as she groaned. I wanted to fight her for a flashing second, and she wanted to resist taking life from me, but my big soul was so close that she could taste it. I knew what would happen.

  So did she.

  It didn’t matter. I came in a spasm that curved my back and took my wind away as she clamped down on me with every nerve in her core, coming in shattering waves as her breasts slowed enough to let me kiss the again, our breath returning slower than a distant ship.

  I wondered how I would tell the girls, and then I didn’t care, because there was only Delphine, and she kissed me again, her tongue gentle and warm in my mouth.

  I lifted her and began moving again. Her smile was maddening.

  “It’s never enough,” she said, then kissed me slowly, with the skill of a thousand years.

  She was right.

  26

  New Orleans: Elizabeth

  It was a significant transformation from a week earlier. The home, once a proud, pinched castle populated with antiques, had been cleared, the floors of the great room torn up and replaced with blonde birch strips gleaming with lacquer, and Elizabeth’s heels tapped lightly across the expanse of new wood. She spun in place again, as she did when surveying any of the spaces Dieter had converted for their specific intent, and once again nodded in appreciation. “You’ve done well yet again. And as for the living quarters, they are clean, well-appointed, but not sumptuous? As we discussed?” she asked, her eyes fixed on Dieter.

  “Yes, Mother. Pleasant, but not so lush as to inspire sloth. A place to work and live, as you requested,” Dieter added hastily. “She will find everything to her liking and conducive to a”—he searched for the word—“rediscovery of her love for dancing. I am utterly confident of it.”

  “She’ll need a great deal of cosmetics, too. Proper clothing, sundries, and spare no expense. She must have every tool at her disposal to mine her femininity, and the end result must be a different woman than the one who will arrive here later today. You’ve arranged for her car? And more to the point will our driver be available at all times, per our donation to his little cause?” Elizabeth’s clipped voice carried over her shoulder as she began leaving.

  “Yes, Mother. The Driver is under contract, so to speak, and expressed his enthusiasm at working with you once I clarified the terms of his reward. Joseph is quite the coward, as it turns out, but fully willing and able to complete a series of relatively complicated tasks, given his status. Karen will be brought here directly, and I have a selection of the very best items she will need in order to realize her potential,” Dieter said diffidently.

  Elizabeth laughed with delight. “Oh, that is such a delicious word. Her potential.” She nearly formed a genuine smile. She fixed him once more with her caramel eyes, and asked, “Does this complete the preparations of our properties here?”

  “No, mother.” When her eyes narrowed, he added, “I await some . . . additional items from a more unusual source in order to make our last guest to arrive feel at ease.” He resisted the urge to straighten his tie.

  “Why is there a delay? I thought I made it clear that you were to learn Creole before we set foot in this pool of humidity.” Elizabeth was not pleased with the New Orleanais climate. It made looking her best a challenge, and she detested challenges.

  “I did, Mother, flawlessly. My Creole is not the issue, if you’ll forgive me, but rather the contact I made is quite—disconnected from reality. He is also a native African, and the best of my ability, he speaks a smattering of English and a dialect of Kru.”

  “From Liberia?” Elizabeth asked with a secretive smile.

  “The very same, Mother,” Dieter answered, relaxing slightly.

  She crossed the floor to him and rested a hand lightly on his shoulder, giving it a companionable squeeze. “I have a translator who will be most eager to assist you in our acquisitions. He’ll be occupying the property for which we have done nothing save turn the key.”

  “The shabby one, mother?” Dieter asked. Out of the six homes, only one had been left untouched, a decaying hulk of former grandeur, now dusty and moldering into senescence. It had been purchased, contents included, and under Elizabeth’s strict instructions, left exactly as it had been found. The interior was shameful, Dieter mused, but Mother had her reasons, and he had only dropped the key in his pocket after a cursory glimpse of the cluttered, trashy monstrosity that sat amidst riotous, untended greenery on a corner lot.

  “You are correct. The guest who will be moving in will assist you with your language issue, and worry not, son, you have not angered me, but you must make it abundantly clear that his assistance in this matter is not only expected, his survival depends on it.”

  Dieter did not even flinch; he expected as much. He simply bowed slightly, and they locked the door behind them with a pointed click as they made their way to the car for the remaining properties on their guest list.

  27

  Florida: Ring

  I moved my head with delicacy, rotating it ever so slightly in a side-to-side motion that made the walls spin. My pillow felt like a gravestone, and every motion sent dazzling floaters behind my eyes. Hangover? Flu? We don’t get sick, not in years, and I couldn’t fathom any amount of turpentine making me feel this way, let alone the excellent wine I had shared with Delphine.

  I took stock of my limbs, which felt noticeably sore, and my joints, creaking in a symphony of snaps and pops. I breathed deeply several times, which helped clear my thoughts for an instant. In that clarity I found a confirmation of my suspicions about Delphine, which did nothing for my current state. Every cell of my carcass protested as I forced myself to sit upright in bed and then placed my feet gingerly on the floor as if the tile was made of lava. My heels even screamed in rebellion at the simple touch. What the fuck was happening? This is even rougher than I suspected. I put my head softly in my palms and rested, elbows to knees as I fought to regulate my breathing. The door opened and I heard rather than saw Risa, and then a small noise of shock told me that Suma was in my room as well.

  “Jesus . . .” Suma hissed as I looked up, bleary-eyed and close to vomiting. “Ring, lie back down if you can.” She rushed to the bed and told Risa in a voice like a whip, “My car. Med kit. Now.”

  I groaned, and then coughed once hard enough to cause a white sheet of light to sear my eyes, fading to a drizzle of red and grey stars that descended like snowflakes inside my eyelids.

  “Ring, stay still. I’m going to wipe your eyes, and you must not move while I do it.” I couldn’t have fought her with an army, so I lay, inert and groaning, while she rummaged through the bag Risa had returned with. I felt something cold burn my face and tried to pull away, but Risa’s hands held me still.

  “What are you doing?” My voice sounded very distant, even in my head. Wally came in at that moment, and I could sense her kneeling near the bed.

  “This is becoming a tradition.” I laughed weakly and felt myself begin to float.

  “Open your mouth,” Suma said in a more gentle tone, and I obeyed, knowing that whatever she was doing was the absolute best possible care I could be receiving. I swallowed a small, incredibly bitter pill that began to dissolve almost immediately, leaving a taste of burning leaves and dust in my mouth. It reminded me of a dry October day, and then, like the fall, it was gone.

  “Water, please.” I felt a straw, sipped twice, and sensed a loosening somewhere within me. My toes began to warm, and my s
inuses opened. Cooler air began to flood my palate, and I smelled the rosewater from Risa’s hair, a hint of spices from something Suma had eaten, and the clean, healthy sweat of Wally after a morning run. All of these bloomed in my senses, and with each passing second, I became alarmed at how much better I was feeling. “What did you give me, Suma?” My voice was noticeably stronger and my vision cleared enough to see the meaningful look pass between her and Risa.

  “Levorphanol. It’s morphine on steroids, about ten times the effect. I gave it to you to hijack whatever it was that was happening to you. Just a hunch, and since your systemic risks are less than normal, if nothing else, I thought it might help you rest. You’re pinking up nicely as we speak.” Suma appraised me professionally and nodded in approval.

  “Pinking?” I asked.

  Wally interjected, “You were green, like a lizard. Not good.”

  “I felt like a lizard. I think. I’m feeling much better by the second. Is it really just that pill, Suma? What do you think, Risa?”

  Suma stepped back and let Risa put her hand on my forehead again. “You’re—well, you feel normal now. Are you in any pain?” She peered at me quizzically. I must have looked really shitty a few minutes ago to get this type of reaction.

  “So, who wants to go first?” Risa asked. She looked around as her alarm faded with my drastic improvement. Wally waved her off, and Suma settled against the wall.

  With a shrug, Risa said, “How many times last night?”

  Oh, Delphine, I’ve brought the war home with me this time. “Four.” I winced and waited for the fallout, but there was only silence. It cut me deeply, appealing to my stupidity and my latent desire for martyrdom. Kevin’s presence had rubbed off on me in one sense, just not a tendency toward mastery of my physical wants. Chagrined, I looked about me at the faces of the women I thought I’d betrayed.

  Wally pumped her fist, while Risa said, “Shit. Four?” Suma shook her head as a laugh began to break free, bubbling up from within her while one hand pressed an envelope into Wally’s grasp.

  “Hey, I’m still fairly close to being dead here. I’d like a bit of respect for my condition.”

  “Shut up, slut,” Risa commanded, smiling sweetly as she watched Wally count a thin stack of bills. “Four. Who knew you had it in you?” Wally regarded me with the beatific look of someone who had been proven right. She’s really a poor winner, but now didn’t seem the time to press that fact home. “Suma, having never sampled your wares, took the charming position that you were only good for two laps with Delphine.” She patted Suma on the arm in commiseration and then moved over to Wally. “Of course, having shagged you on a regular basis for years, I assumed you would be more vigorous in your approach to Delphine’s ass this time around, so I claimed three as my betting interest. Only Wally thought you would go above and beyond, and she is now two hundred dollars richer.”

  Wally waved the money at me and winked. Definitely a bad winner, along with being unbearably smug.

  I was well enough to ask, “And how does your bet relate to me feeling like a truck hit me?” In truth, I felt fine, but that was a recent development. It was unsettling, but the reaction from Suma led me to believe that it wasn’t unexpected, at least not on her part.

  “Whose idea was it to see how sick I would get from fucking Delphine?” I asked with a relatively wide smile. I really was feeling better. I had my suspicions that it was only a very temporary illness; it was the primary reason I left caution to the wind the night before and enjoyed Delphine in ways I didn’t think possible inside a vehicle. God bless whoever designed the Wagoneerp; it was positively built for the commission of sin. Dead silence descended on the room as I continued in a bright tone. “I’m fine, just to put your concerns to rest. I know how awful your evening must have been, sick with worry as I cavorted with someone who, up until Suma’s most recent visit, had caused a collective mistrust in our house that bordered on hysteria. But, you’ll be happy to know, I fucked her for God and country, and I went about my business well.” I finished with a grand wave and then rewarded the three of them with a scorching, accusatory look. I held up a hand to silence any response. I wasn’t done, not by any measure. “I’m just an oaf who can’t be trusted around women, you know the type— controlled by my cock, but I’m good at other things, right, so we all get along fine and dandy. Right up until the point that you three thought it was a good idea for me to fuck a succubus who is gaining power as she readies a challenge for the throne. Brilliant, fucking brilliant, and I had to live with a succubus hangover that nearly made me puke my bed green just to prove a point. I’m going to get over being pissed, I always do. But from this point forward, if any of you keep a secret of this nature from me, I’ll leave. Gone. I won’t live in a house built on distrust, and I certainly won’t live in a relationship where I’m offered up like a fucking lamb to the slaughter because you know that I’m tough enough to take it.”

  No one else spoke. I could see spots of shame burning their cheeks equally.

  “Have you all suffered mass amnesia? I’m a combat veteran. I’ve got fifteen fucking years of combat with immortals. At what point did you think that I would suddenly regard Delphine as anything other than an irritation?” I asked, still incensed.

  “But with great tits,” Wally added, helpfully.

  “Yes. Stunning,” I added, and saw Wally’s eyes flash as the dart landed. “Seriously? Suma, didn’t you take some sort of oath not to harm people?”

  She blushed and looked away.

  “And Risa,” I began as she regarded me evenly, “how could you let them convince you to offer me up, knowing that I would do it regardless of the supposed risks? Do you, after all these years, think so little of me?”

  Tears welled in Risa’s eyes first, and then Wally’s, too, as Suma covered her mouth, abashed by my anger.

  “I know Delphine is getting more powerful. I’m not stupid. She has to be gaining power in order to hope to replace Elizabeth. She’s also gaining power with age and experience. To repeat, I am not stupid. But what really confuses me is that none of you figured my foreknowledge of her changing abilities could be examined in order to give us better information. Let me put your minds at rest—I got the intel, and I found out about her power in the easiest way possible.”

  “H-how?” Suma asked, in a small voice.

  “I asked her.” I let my face lighten. I was done being angry; I didn’t like the taste of it.

  “I’m sorry.” It was Wally speaking now, and her voice, too, was small and distant.

  Risa sat down on the floor and looked at her feet.

  I stood, a bit wobbly, but then righted myself and asked, “Is there coffee?”

  There was a chorus of assent. I exhaled and held out my hand to Risa. “I’m done being pissed. Let’s all talk and have a normal day. There are some things you all need to know, and if you don’t take it seriously, we’re screwed.” And with that, we left the angry air of the room for the breakfast table and a history lesson about Delphine and The Carpenter and all of the other weirdness that made up our typical days.

  28

  The Archangel Enoch

  “Do you find it to your liking, Enoch?” Dieter asked in a voice that verged on rudeness. Enoch went rigid at being addressed in such a familiar way.

  “I am Doctor Mpemba. And no, this place is not fit for pigs, let alone me.” Enoch regarded the moldering interior of the home with a jaundiced eye. What had been a place of grandeur a century earlier was now a dated, vandalized shithole that he would not deign to set foot in, let alone live in. Dieter laughed in his face and turned from him in a clear dismissal. Enoch grabbed his arm, imperious with anger, and froze in complete terror at the look he received.

  Dieter’s voice transformed into an icy, quiet admonition. “Yes, indeed, Enoch. You are a doctor after a fashion, but here you are merely a servant of my mistress, and a lowly one at that. You would do well to keep that in the forefront of your obviously learned mind.”
His admission of Enoch’s position was almost an afterthought, and it chilled the former professor into further doubts about what was going to happen next. “Mother has issued clear instruction about your role. You are to first make this place presentable, if you are capable of such a thing”—Dieter raked the scholar with his eyes—“and when you have completed you domestic duties, there will be an opportunity for you to revisit some of your previous hobbies, but only under carefully controlled circumstances. It should be noted that my mistress does not believe in obedience without reward, and your next days here will determine many things. Your behavior will, in fact, decide whether or not you are allowed to have further days, as well as what will fill that time that my mistress feels you have earned. She can be quite generous, and I am brimming with confidence that you will find her unique rewards most satisfying. Until then, you will labor diligently and in good humor. Is that clear?”

  Enoch seethed inwardly, toxic with rage but remembering the ease with which Elizabeth had effectively rendered him a eunuch. He swallowed a bilious retort and simply nodded. His new jailer, resplendent in banker’s attire, walked the perimeter of the large, disordered room and then made a gesture almost as an afterthought.

  Dieter said in a light tone, “I should mention that upon dispensing your duties here, you’ll be taken by driver to a nearby home, often for the entirety of the day. Provided, of course, that this . . . place”—he smiled ingratiatingly at Enoch—“has passed into respectability.”

  “Where will I go?” Enoch barked, overeager and growing angrier.

  Dieter quelled him with a look. “It is in your best interest to forget such an aggressive tone when asking questions, if you feel they must be asked at all. Certainly, I am a more forgiving liaison, but speaking to Elizabeth in such a fashion will be an unusually painful lesson. However, I’m feeling generous, so I can tell you that you are about to learn a trade. Yes, an honest craft, Enoch. You are to assist a master artisan in creating highly specialized objects that one might find useful in some of your more unsavory pursuits.”