Demon Master

by Daniel Pierce

  “A question. How long was it before Derek went up to her room?” Suma asked. I wasn’t sure where she was going with that topic, but I listened anyway.

  “Right away. And he was up there for like an hour and a half. I knew he was a stud, but come on. That’s world record stuff, right?” He gazed at me expectantly.

  I looked at my feet. He didn’t know what Wally and Risa were capable of doing to a man. Or each other.

  “Was Derek able to complete his liftoff, as you say?” Risa asked as seriously as possible, given the subject matter.

  “And how,” Marcus enthused. “Derek said she was not just the best ever, but better than he could have imagined, like legendary. And he said she was really into him ever since their first phone call and that we should come see her at her other place, you know, stay awhile.”

  Risa and Wally groaned. I laughed outright. Suma looked confused until I explained. “Let me get this straight. You and Derek left Chicago to fly a thousand miles to see a high-class hooker because she was really into both of you? Is it amateur night? Aren’t you professionally trained to assess risk? Am I wrong in finding this hilarious?” I finished with a derisive hoot, looking around at our collective stunned faces.

  Marcus rubbed his face and shook his head. “I know, I know. And we did. But once we were there, she really took care of us. It was like we were visiting princes.”

  “Or cattle,” Risa interjected.

  “Right,” Marcus admitted. “I used all my vacation time for her,” he finished mournfully.

  “Why didn’t you leave? Other than being comatose from the attentions of Goldibox?” I asked, inwardly pleased with my phrasing. I laughed alone. No one understands my comedic touch.

  “It was the details, man. She kept us in one of her places—she had four. I wasn’t surprised with that body; she could afford a castle if she wanted it. She would have a car bring us over one at a time, me during the day, Derek at night. Four, five hours of her and me. She knew my favorite foods, cooked like a chef. Or her staff would cook. Either way, best food I’ve eaten. Greeted me at the door with thirty-year-old whiskey that I couldn’t afford but have loved since I first tasted it on my honeymoon. Fed me sliced fruit, gave me massages, hot baths, shit you only dream about. And then on top of all that, the sex.” He sighed heavily with memory. “I learned about things the human body can do but shouldn’t. I felt my legs go numb and my face tingle at the same time and sometimes she did it with one hand. See my eye?” he asked, pulling his eyelid back and turning to show us. Blood still filled the corner where vessels had burst.

  “Conjunctive hemorrhage. Impressive. How’d that happen?” I asked. When I realized everyone was staring at me, I clarified. “What? I read occasionally.” My genius was met with skepticism.

  “In the best carriage ride in the history of carriage rides, that’s where. She had a horse drawn antique carriage pick us up. We’re under these old oaks, the breeze smells like flowers, and she goes down on me. Right there! I’m looking up at this Spanish moss swaying and I thought I was dying, that’s how hard I got off. When I regained consciousness, she’s sitting next to me smiling and I’ve got an eye that looks like a ruby made of jelly. I mean, seriously, I passed out from her mouth.”

  “That’s not unheard of,” Risa quipped.

  Marcus looked at her with amazement and me with newfound respect.

  “Other than your eye, did you have any health problems from being with her? Dreams? Anything weird?” I wanted to ferret out the nature of this sexual dynamo from New Orleans.

  “Me, no,” Marcus said, finishing his beer and setting the bottle down. “But Derek was in trouble. He stopped sleeping. We were only there for a week, but I don’t think he slept at all. He looked like shit, but I rarely saw him, she kept us so tied up with her, and sometimes she had a car take us into the city to do cool stuff, things that were really local and . . . personal. Like she was sharing her life history with us. It felt like she knew everything that had ever happened in the city. And she said she wanted us for herself, that she enjoyed our spirit and didn’t want any of her sisters or family coming around. I got the feeling their family dinners must be like Armageddon.” That was closer to the truth than he knew. Marcus was immersed in the thought if this woman. It was uncomfortable to witness, knowing she had killed his friend. And many others, no doubt. “Derek started to . . . fade. He was really pale. She put us on a plane to go home and neither of us wanted to. Who would? It was like leaving Eden and Aphrodite for the suburbs of Chicago. Derek didn’t talk much on the plane, he was too tired. He said she just fucked him every night, nothing crazy, but that he couldn’t tell when he was awake or asleep. It didn’t matter, she was still there, naked, on him, and he couldn’t stop.” His eyes rimmed with tears. “He died in the car on the way home. I was thirty seconds from a hospital, but they couldn’t save him. He was thirty-four.”

  The room was stilled by the memory of a man we had never met, but a story we knew only too well. We stalled a moment to give Marcus time to regain his composure.

  “And then you followed her here for the sex?” Wally asked, her voice soft with compassion.

  “No, nothing like that” Marcus replied. “I followed her here to kill her.”

  39

  Database Entry

  From Risa’s Files:

  Savor the essence of New Orleans with a quiet evening hosted by the elegant Delphine. Worldly, gracious, and sensual, her southern hospitality is second to none. Let Delphine remind you exactly how gentlemen should be treated. A full evening of her care and company includes an introductory cocktail hour, followed by an in-home gourmet meal prepared by Delphine herself. Options include (but are not limited to): Carriage ride under the famous New Orleans oaks. Candlelit dessert hour overlooking a private lake. Champagne breakfast, massage, and dressing service. All of these memorable events are at the discretion of the gentleman in the event he chooses to leave the personal bedroom of Delphine during his visit. Few men do! Screening is, unfortunately, a must, as Delphine only sees select gentlemen. Her well trained staff awaits your call. Companionship is limited to established, refined men over the age of thirty-five. Travelers welcome!

  40

  Florida: Ring

  Marcus had clearly warmed to his narrative, but it was time for a reality check. Risa held up a hand to silence him, and to his credit, he obeyed. She’s tough like that.

  “Marcus, what makes you think Delphine should die?” she asked.

  Bluntly, Wally added, “What makes you think you are a killer? Of a woman like her?” They were legitimate questions. This was a medium sized insurance employee with no presumptive experience as an assassin. It seemed like a reasonable point of contention.

  He thought for a second and started speaking slowly. “Well, Derek was really healthy, you know? The whole thing was just so out of character for me, and Derek, even. I just know that she did something to him, because for him to die like that, with his face slumped against my car window . . . it’s just so fucked up.” He hesitated then added, “And now, I still see her. At night, sometimes. Do you believe me?” He looked around for disbelief but found none, sinking appreciatively into his chair a bit. He had come to the right place for this type of problem.

  Suma asked, “In your dreams?”

  A violent shake of his head. Marcus was adamant. “No, I’m awake, I think. But I don’t know how she gets in the house without me hearing. How does she not wake me up? She oozes onto me and I’m in her, fucking for all I’m worth. I feel like I’m coming unglued but just the smell of her on my shirt makes me fucking insane. I mean, what do I do, announce to the world that every night I’m balls deep in a ghost orgy? So I keep the secret. And I know the only way to stop is to kill her or make her go . . . someplace else. I don’t know. Away . . .”

  “A succubus. Plain and simple,” I said.

  Risa nodded, and Wally nearly growled. She hated sexual competition. “Marcus, she’s not human, but you al
ready knew that, right? And now this thing that defies every chart or data stream you’ve ever seen is taking your life from you just like Derek. But you’re holding out longer because you’re probably a good guy with a clean slate who just wants to go to work, raise his family, and live your life, right?”

  “I suspected. Or thought I was insane. I’m an evidence guy, no matter how contrary to my feelings. But then I think about Derek’s headstone and I just sort of knew.” Marcus had lost his innocence to this creature. Now, he was losing even more in a slow drip that filled the succubus with his life and stolen memories with each nightly visit. Sadly, he did so willingly. Giving pleasure at the cost of life was an ace that immortals played too often. Few humans could resist the searing touch of a creature designed for seduction and Marcus, although resilient, was fortunate we could intervene. If he let us.

  I thought for a moment. “Marcus, could you arrange an introduction with Delphine? Soon? I think that in her line of work, money talks. Maybe a very generous offer can bring the lady south for a date with a tall, ravishing Midwesterner, skilled in the ways of love, a man whose very presence in the room makes women swoon with—”

  “Okay, we get it, Your Highness. You want to play stud again and bring this succubus to us, rather than being in her lair.” Risa stuck her tongue out at me, the grinned.

  “It peels her away from that staff, which are probably complicit in her . . . needs.” Wally elaborated, “Getting her out of there gives us a chance to see if she makes contact with any other immortals while she’s on our turf. I can convince the hotel staff to give us access. Or Risa can do it with a kick to the balls,” she finished, earning a wintry smile from Risa, no matter how true. Risa simply cannot accept the fact that Wally is the consummate charmer, especially when it comes to bellhops and bartenders. I walked over to the table and picked up the necklace given to us by the Baron, watching the jeweled eye glint flirtatiously in the light.

  “I don’t know about all this, man. She’s set up like a queen. Why the hell would she leave? Just to bang one single john a thousand miles away? What have you got what she needs?” Marcus openly doubted me.

  “What she needs? A woman with money, staff, virtually eternal life? Dominion over men and a never-ending river of lust and pleasure? You think I can lure her solely on the basis of my boyish good looks and some cash? No, Marcus. I don’t think that I, no matter how dashing I may be”—Wally cooed mockingly, batting her eyes at me—“well, I could never have anything that she needs. But I have something far better.”

  “What’s that?” Marcus asked me, puzzled.

  I brandished the necklace, turning lazily on its chain, and tore my eyes away from the dancing horse to look at him. “I have something she wants.”

  41

  Florida: Ring

  Morning broke gently. I pulled on shorts and decided that I would watch our resident long necked heron fish along the dock until the house woke up, along with our guests. I walked softly past a deeply breathing Marcus, sleeping on the couch with Gyro, who had insinuated himself onto the couch in a tangle of knobby legs. Oddly, Marcus looked cradled in comfort despite sharing his bunk with a beast. Crossing the yard, I perched, legs dangling over the water as the neighborhood came to life.

  A click from the sliding glass doors announced I had a visitor, but I was so content staring at the water that only a waft of rose scent identified Risa, who dropped a familiar arm over my shoulders and leaned against me as she lowered herself to lean on my side.

  “You smell like roses . . . and Wally. Sleepover last night for you girls?” I teased, nudging her as she yawned and slapped my thigh lightly in protest.

  “Something like that.” Her grin was wicked. “Suma took Wally’s bed. We kicked Marcus to the couch after you went to sleep and we were done discussing our brilliant plans for the tramp from Louisiana.”

  “Hey now,” I chided. “She’s a courtesan, not a tramp. Big difference. Like three grand.” I leered at her with what I hoped was my creepiest smile. I’m quite the charmer, especially before coffee. “Do you feel like things are changing beyond our control?” I asked her, giving voice to my concerns.

  “I think I do. I know Wally does, we talked about it. You know her impatience makes things seem much more immediate, but”—her voice softened as she formed her thoughts—“I think she’s right this time. I keep looking around corners, mentally, you know, wondering what it is that we’re missing here in the larger scheme. I don’t like being toyed with. Elizabeth is mocking us, somehow. All of these things are related. I just know it. I’m out of my element a bit here, because you and Wally are so much better at using instinct. I just grind facts and then point you like a weapon. A very handsome weapon, even when you don’t shave. One thing I don’t understand about Elizabeth and her so-called daughters. Do they all get along? I’ve never seen a family that didn’t squabble or compete in some way. If there’s a way, maybe we can drive a wedge somewhere to make them come out and play.” She kissed my shoulder, and I smiled. “I’ll call the Baron and throw a few things his way. Sibling rivalry . . . yes. Yes, every family fights. And these are killers. Good idea. Maybe he’ll see a thread and run with it,” I told her, but for the moment, we just sat quietly in contemplation of the water, the sun, and each other.

  Wally drove Marcus back to his place after a late breakfast but not before extracting a promise that he would return the same evening for dinner. There were many more questions to ask of him, after a day of thinking his situation over. Suma took my Wagoneer to the Hardigan center in order to spend the day with Boon. Her leave of absence from work, taken at first as a simple vacation, looked to be more valuable each day, as her presence was welcome in our group.

  Suma just fit. And that was good enough.

  42

  Video Chat with Cazimir

  As a chat with Cazimir was in order, I got comfortable on my bed, powered up the laptop, and briefly typed. I connected with the Baron and was greeted with a wan smile as he settled into his desk chair. He looked drawn and older. Around him I could see the things from his life, hinting at an old place that was rich in money and meaning.

  But these items paled to the crown jewels of the visible lodge, mounted on the beam closest behind the Baron’s desk. Five feet long, more than a foot in diameter, and tailing away to a lethal point, the aurochs horns shone like obsidian. I could not envision what type of beast might carry those upright, let alone wield them like swords. I sat mute in the face of this otherness and asked, “Sir, are you feeling well?”

  “No, Ring. I will not draw out my answer. No. I am tired, and I fear that something is happening with Elizabeth and the women she brings into her sphere of influence. I cannot say why, but I have an echo in my bones that she is moving to some sort of violent conclusion. I fear for her. I fear for those around her, and the good souls that she may take because of her corruption. And, for the first time, I fear not being here to help her.” He bowed his head, looking older than I thought possible. It shocked me to see him deteriorate this quickly, but stress can eat a person from within until they collapse in a heap. I decided to remain on his side, at least on the surface.

  “I know we’re getting closer to her. We’ll find her, I promise you. One by one, her daughters make themselves known to us through their crimes. So rest, Sir. Rest and I’ll call you with each step as we narrow our search, and I won’t stop until I have my hands on her.”

  “Thank you, Ring. I trust your efforts. Let me give you a bit of advice from an old man, if I may. When you get close, very close, be sure you are speaking to her directly. Because you do not want to grab a creature as spirited as Elizabeth by the tail.” He said goodbye and cut the connection, leaving me to wonder about tigers, tails, and how I could convince Elizabeth that anything other than her surrender was suicide for her.

  But first, I had to convince myself.

  43

  Florida: Ring

  Delphine was no ordinary courtesan. While she c
ertainly had a small presence on the internet, it quickly became apparent that seeing her involved more traditional methods. My email expressing interest in meeting her was returned promptly by a staff member named Joseph. He informed me that, after a brief description of myself, I might be permitted to speak directly with the lady herself. Given that I was going to tailor my story directly to her needs, I was confident that no later than dinner I would hear the voice of a succubus who had been operating in New Orleans for decades—maybe even centuries.

  I called the given number and Joseph answered on the second ring, his tone making me aware that I wanted something to which he controlled access. His voice was silky, cultured, and capable of turning even the smallest words into insults.

  I hated him in seconds.

  He was the type of prick that graces desks in government agencies and other places where paperwork is an art form. But even roadblocks like Joseph can be bypassed, and when I combined the words inheritance with jewelry, his voice quickly changed into a tone I recognized as interest.

  “Let me connect you to Miss Delphine, if you’ve a moment, Ring,” he gushed. I had tickled the right ivories to hear the tune I wanted. A static click announced Delphine was on the line, in more ways than one.