Demon Lord 4: White Jade Reaper

by Morgan Blayde

  The silversmith laughed like someone who didn’t care he’d been caught with a paw in the cookie jar. “Oh, you are just too smart for me. What a bright child! Very well, who needs a profit anyway? Twelve hundred dollars.”

  Grace shot me a look. I kept my face bland. This was her bargain to make. She needed to trust her gut. Her gaze went blank a moment as if she were viewing something private inside her skull. Her focus returned and brought a hard glower along with it. “Fair market value would be seventeen hundred apiece.”

  A look of pain flashed across Einion’s face. “How did you…? Never mind.” He sighed. “Very well, the deal is done. Wait here.” He turned toward the curtain, moving toward the back room, stopping in shock as the front door jolted open and two men with guns burst in.

  The lead man was big and burly; a red bandana over his lower face, the rest of him clad in denim shorts and a black metal-style tee with Nevermore in front, the artwork featuring a surly girl child and a bunch of skulls on poles. Somehow, the girl on the tee shirt reminded me of the ghost girl who’d been haunting me. The second guy wore black shorts and a searing-green Hawaiian shirt with palm leaves and a parrot rendered in primary colors. He had no bandana, just a pair of very dark

  sunshades on. Their Smith and Wesson .38s panned us.

  “Nobody move!” Bandana Guy barked.

  “And no one will get hurt,” Hawaiian Guy added.

  “You’re moving,” Onyx pointed out.

  “Shuddup!” Bandana Guy surged up to Onyx, swinging his handgun at the shadow man’s head. Onyx’s features sank into darkness, leaving him faceless. The gunman’s pistol and hand fell into that darkness and emerged with a coating of frost. “Crap! What the freakin’ hell.”

  I lifted my empty hands, extending in front of me as if I held my Berettas ready for use. I called to the robbers. “Want to see a magic trick?”

  Hawaiian Guy and Bandana Man looked at me like I was crazy. I launched a thought back to my motel room, to the satchel I’d left there. A moment later my semi-automatics leaped the distance and materialized in my hands. The robbers each got a full clip of rounds spread across their bodies. Chances were good they were dead before falling over and sprawling on the floor. With another thought, I sent my weapons back to the satchel.

  The sound of gunfire brought Madison running into the jewelry store. She had a throwing star in each hand, poised to send the star-shaped knives flying on missions of death. She paused, staring down at the bodies on the floor and back up at me. “Just can’t play well with others, can you?”

  “I do my best,” I lied, “but trouble won’t stay away.”

  She put the stars away. “Well, they’re your bodies; you can clean them up.”

  The saleslady in the periwinkle dress with poufy sleeves came around from behind a display case. “I’ll handle this.”

  She whistled shrill and sharp, a rising tone that peaked and descended. A moment later, a fey watchdog came from the back room. The size of a Shetland pony, tar black with jade ripples along its side, the flop-eared beast bounded over the display cases, landing on clawed footpads. Its four eyes were small embers, its open maw displaying slightly yellowed teeth and a sandpaper tongue the color of eggplant. The fey lady pointed at

  the bodies and said, “Lunch, Maximilian.”

  The hound grabbed one of the bodies—biting it by the head—and dragged it away, leaving a blood smear on the floor.

  Unfazed, Grace looked up at Einion. “You were about to get me my money?” She said the word with reverence, as if the Ark of the Covenant were being discussed.

  I smiled. Girl after my own heart. You’ll go far in life.

  TEN

  “Secrets are collected easier if no

  one knows which ones you want.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  Madison stuck her head in the door. “How long do I have to stay out here? Hey, do you know there’s a car idling at the curb? Driver looks kinda dodgy to me.”

  Grace pointed past the blood being mopped up by one of the fey salesladies, to the fey hound dragging off the second body. “Tell the driver his friends are dead and stuff him in the trunk. We’re borrowing his car.”

  “Good, we needed another vehicle,” I said.

  “Gotcha.” Madison back out, closing the door.

  The owner returned and paid Grace for the diamonds. She carefully counted the money, folded it, and turned her back on everyone to put it away in her sports bra.

  I went over and gave her a piece of paper with an address on it. “Here, I want you to check out this old house, if it’s still standing. See if there are any ghosts there willing to talk to you about past murders and the guy that did them.”

  She took the paper. “We’ll work it into our busy schedule.”

  “I’m paying for this. Do it before you get too involved in shopping.”

  “Now that’s a buzz-thrill,” Onyx said.

  “Buzz-kill,” Grace corrected. She sighed in my direction. “Okay, I’ll call you if I find anything interesting.”

  “Call me either way,” I said. “Cassie expects me to keep track of you and I will.” Her mother scared me a little. Fucking hot and bat-shit crazy is a fun, but dangerous combination.

  “Fine.” Grace snagged Onyx by the arm and dragged him away. “Let’s go see our new car.”

  I waited until the kids were gone, and turned my attention to Einion. “All right, time for the adults to talk. Let’s go back into your office.”

  He inclined his head. “This way.”

  I followed him through the curtain. The back room had a desk, phone, laptop, and a bank of filing cabinets. There was also a kitchenette area with a sink, counters, and microwave. The fey beast was there with a slightly smaller version of itself. They were gnawing on the would-be robbers. Seeing me glance their way, the pair growled softly, protecting their food. I ignored them, going up to a cream door with silver inlay. The handle was silver as well. Einion opened the door and stepped through.

  My magically enhanced sight picked up a thin skin of energy across the threshold. I paused, looking through—to Fairy. The door was a portal from Earth to one of the kingdoms of the fey. I had a magic door just like this in my Malibu mansion. Nothing about the magic seemed harmful, so I went in as well. A tingle of fey power rippled across me and I stepped into another world.

  The “Under-the-Hill” office looked entirely fey, adorned with handcrafted items, and no iron or steel anywhere. The poplar desk—yellow and cream with gray wood-grain patterns in it—sprawled, six by nine feet at the heart of a fifty-foot room. The visitor chairs near the desk were almond with garnet velvet upholstery and hand-carved dragon-toed feet. There was an ink stand with upright quill pens made from peacock feathers, the areas near the tips banded with silver. There were scrolls and invoice of a more human nature in separate piles.

  Three-inch, butterfly people in jeweled gowns swept the open stretches of the desk as I approached. They continued their work, ignoring me and their boss as we sat with the desk between us.

  Several feet behind Einion, twin statues were posted like guards with a brazier of red coals between them, fending off a chill. The statues were chiseled from a red marble with faint pink veins. The creatures had snarling, man heads, shark teeth, lion bodies, bat wings, and scorpion tails. Both monsters sat on their haunches the way a house cat might. Oddly, someone had decided that the statues needed spiked collars made of gold set with rubies.

  Behind the statues, the far wall was an expanse of hexagonal windows, like cells in a hive. Midnight blue curtains occupied the corners, tied with ropes of silver thread. They were supported by a track in the ceiling so the whole view could be cut off when desired. Beyond the window cells lay a shadowed cavern where pastel-colored will-o-the-wisps bobbed in the air, creating zones of light. More of the balls shot about on various errands.

  Strutting about with picks, shovels, and lunchboxes were muffled figures in brown, hooded robes. They could hav
e been dwarves, fey, kobolds, or even children for that matter. Since this was Fairy, winged monkeys weren’t out of the question either.

  Einion said, “I see you’ve noticed my statues.”

  Yeah, that and a whole lot more. Your office is located in a silver mine.

  I felt my inner dragon stirring, his avaricious attention riveted on the surrounding wealth. We should kill everyone, and annex this land to our own kingdom.

  Two problems with that, I told my other self. If we kill everyone, who will dig out the silver for us? Also, taking someone else’s kingdom would announce us to be a threat; nearly every fey lord and lady would raise arms against us. I can’t afford to launch hostilities until I know I can win against everyone else, or have acquired allies other than the Winter Court.

  My inner dragon chewed on that a second and said, The Dream Court owes us. If nothing else, they’d stay neutral.

  I’ll let you know when I feel we’re ready.” Now, where was I? Oh yeah, the statues. I focused on the statues again. “Very realistic, life-sized, too.”

  “They were a gift from the Summer King,” Einion said. “We made him a suit of silver armor, enspelled with powerful protective runes. He was also quite pleased with a set of wedding rings we fashioned. Our business does well here, and in your world, demon lord.”

  There was a small “Eeeeeek!” followed by another. My gaze went to a pair of tiny desk sweepers that had dropped their brooms and were staring at me like I’d just grown another head on my dick. “I’m not going to eat you,” I told the winged sweepers. “I’ve had lunch recently.”

  They snatched up their brooms and darted off for cover behind a decorative statue of a rearing unicorn made from pure silver. The fey had reinforced with magic so it wouldn’t deform from its own weight. Without magic, humans did these kinds of things by adding minor amounts of some stronger metal like copper to create sterling silver. There also seemed to be a spell on the statue to enhance the owner’s virility, nothing I needed. In this case, the spell was worth more than the metal—to the fey. They were a dying breed, cursed with a low rate of child births. It was why in times past they’d stolen human children and left changelings behind that—with the dawn—turned into bundled roots and leaves. Cross-species fornication would have fixed this problem. Too bad the older, more powerful fey were too proud, and humans too cautious or puritanical.

  Einion leaned forward, elbows on his desk, his chin resting on his laced fingers. His eyebrows arched. “So, what exactly do you want with me?”

  “A secret, high-end auction is going to be held in Santa Fe over the next few days, by invitation only. A certain Goth item will be offered of a vampiric nature. I can’t imagine you won’t be invited.”

  He nodded slowly. “I imagine you are right.”

  “I want to know about this auction, time and place. And depending on the level of security there, I may need to go in undercover with your party.”

  “I know your reputation, demon lord.” At the mention of my title, tiny shrieks of fear went up once more, and I heard the sound of tiny brooms falling over. “You leave wrack and ruin wherever you go. I wouldn’t want a stigma to attach to me by association.”

  “I won’t tell anyone you helped me. Besides, I can make it worth your while.”

  Leaning back in his chair, he stared at me. “I’m listening.”

  “In terms of empire, the force of destiny is on my side. Those that don’t stand with me will be trampled upon. More immediately, in addition to being allowed to live, you will be paid for your assistance. And I will see to it that news of your helpfulness reaches the right ears. One of the great lords of the vampires is in town. I’m recovering a stolen object for him. Do you think you can do business in the human world if his kind declare vendetta against those that hinder me?”

  I was threatening far more than I could deliver. I sold it all with unblinking confidence, letting my gaze go flat and dead, channeling my inner sociopath.

  “We are on my home ground now. I could end all your threats with a snap of my fingers.”

  I looked past him at the statues. Golems, I suspected. Once triggered, they’d probably come to life and attack. Einion wasn’t counting on the broom fairies to save him.

  I smiled. “If you don’t want to deal with me, your replacement will.”

  He held up his right hand. Above two folded fingers, the remaining three touched. The snap he’d mentioned was coming.

  I lunged out of the chair, my human speed was already fast with training and years of combat experience. Augmented by the power of my dragon side, raised it another level. My right hip slid across the desk top, and away from the Einion, spoiling the work of the shrieking broom fairies that scattered into the air, taking wing. With a thought, I called my demon sword to me. The blade materialized in my hand, its endless hunger washing across my mind. I swept ahead with the sword, and brought the blade back, its tip under Einion’s chin. On the desk under his bleeding hand were three severed fingertips.

  I sighed heavily. “Why does everyone want to test me? Well, I suppose I’ll have to kill you now.”

  “That will not be necessary. You’ve made your point. I will do as you say the next time you call on me.”

  I pulled the sword back. He wasn’t lying. Like kitsune, the fey couldn’t lie. They could misdirect and play with words, but there didn’t seem to be any wiggle room in his statement.

  Noooo! My sword screamed in my head. You called me here; let me eat!

  Sliding back off the edge of the desk, I stood balanced in a wide stance, not quite relaxing. I watched as the fey lined up his finger tips and touched them with the bleeding stubs. There was a flash of blue-green light and the hand became whole, healed.

  “Neat trick,” I said. “An automatic process, or do you use a talisman?”

  “You have my services. You’re not entitled to my secrets.”

  “Fair enough.” I nodded and released my sword, letting it return to my armory in Malibu.

  His left hand rested casually on the desk, along with his right. His left hand snapped fingers without being lifted. And then the statues were on me. But they had to come around their master without harming him, and they were big enough to get in each other’s way. This gave me time to duck and grab the lower, front edge of the desk, flipping it up so that all the clutter on top slid into Einion’s lap. I heard him fall back in his chair.

  The desk exploded as the manticore statues ripped through it, passing me in their murderous haste. This brought their scorpion tails into range. The stone barbs bludgeoned at me. I moved to the side, guiding one tail past me to block the other. There was a stone-on-stone boom. The statues skidded to a stop and turned to face me, temporarily removing the threat of their hindquarters. Their wings folded as they squatted to pounce.

  But then, I’d warmed up my Dragon Flame tattoo with a burst of raw magic. Activating the spell flushed me with agony, a sensation like having my eyeballs shredded with a cheese grater while burning lava flowed through my arteries. The pain ghosted away as fast as it hit, leaving my body sheathed in golden flames. Part of the spell kept the flames from igniting my clothing, working against me.

  The statues hesitated, revaluating my threat level.

  I smiled and waved them closer. “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”

  The one on my right jumped in as the second beast circled left to flank me. I went ahead and to the right, blinding the statue with a burst of flame to his face. Tougher than regular flame, my dragon fire clung like napalm. The beast tossed his head, trying to fling away the blinding fire. The beast’s claws slashed past me. Beside the monster, I punched its ribs with a flaming fist, and then had to duck its flailing tail.

  Cancelling the fire magic, I directed magic to my Demon Wings tattoo. The skin of my upper back tingled with warmth. Phantom pain swept through me, payment for the new spell’s activation. It felt like someone had ripped out my spine and cracked it like a whip before putting it back through my
dick. The pain vanished, leaving me in stealth mode, my You-Don’t-See-Me spell acting like a fey glamour to hide me while in plain sight. The damaged manticore wheeled about, clawing at the fire on its human face. This cleared the way for the farther beast to spin my way and leap, but he hesitated, eyes scanning the room.

  Beyond the beasts, Einion stood. He, too, stared about in puzzlement. “Now that’s a neat trick, too, Deathwalker. How does it work?”

  Yeah, right, I’m stupid beyond belief; I’m going to answer and give my position away so you can kill me.

  I edged around the lions, stepping carefully so I wouldn’t kick the wood shards from the broken desk, or the loose papers scattered everywhere. Some of debris had caught fire and was burning. I avoided the hot spots and the smoke so it wouldn’t give me away.

  Einion laughed. “You know, I can do that, too. Most fey have glamour.” He faded away, becoming translucent, then invisible, magically bending light away from him—an illusion of nothingness.

  Overconfident. So sure of himself, he’s not even calling for the guards.

  Of course, his voice would give me a target to shoot at, not that I didn’t know exactly where he was. His little broom fairies didn’t have glamour, and they were circling over his head, having no problem smelling him out, the half-feral darlings. I felt like

  laughing, but held it in.

  I summoned one of my Berettas, knowing my Demon Wings tattoo would conceal it as well. Of course, once I fired, the muzzle flash and sound would probably betray me to the manticores’ magical senses. My gun fit in my hand like a lover. I caressed the trigger, squeezing off two shots. I was guessing about placement of my shots, but thought I’d hit head and heart.

  The manticore screamed. They lunged in my direction.

  Blood splatter appeared midair, and continued to fall to the floor. Einion reappeared, dead on his feet. He crumpled and lay still.

  “I thank all the sweet pussy in the world for iron ammo.”

  I turned to meet the attack of the statues.