Demon Lord 4: White Jade Reaper

by Morgan Blayde

  A deep voice vibrated the air near me. “Favor paid.”

  Lysande was pressed into my side. She’d inadvertently screamed when the living blackout hit. So did a lot of people. I heard rustling, milling around, but not a lot of widespread motion. Everyone was taking a wait and see attitude, waiting for the magic users in the security staff to sort this out. I knew they couldn’t. I knew it was only a matter of minutes before security got the moderator, and the damn coffin, outta here.

  Time to act. I released the shadow sword. Its purpose had been achieved in being seen as an unconventional threat, one which would probably be forever associated with this convenient black out. I’d get credit for Onyx’s work, which would enhance my reputation, and bring in more business.

  Speaking of business… I reached out and tugged on Vlad’s arm. “Fly that levitating coffin outta here and go with it. I’ll attend to matters here.”

  “Delighted,” he said. “I need to catch up to the Russian woman who wants so very much to die. It seems you have smoked out the villain behind all this. Good job.”

  “Uh, about that…”

  “Yes, I know, it earns you a sizable bonus.”

  In the back of my head, the cha-ching of sound of a cash register went off big-time. “Never mind.” Who am I to stand between a young vampire girl and her death wish?

  The arm I was touching went incorporeal, dissolving to mist as Dracula ghosted away with his coffin. I sat back down, pulling Lysande back into her chair.

  “What is going on?” she whispered.

  “Vlad is leaving with his coffin. I’ll give him a few minutes, then have Onyx lift the black out. After that, we’ll probably be asked to leave and never come back.”

  “How can he see well enough to go anywhere?” Lysande asked.

  “When he goes all mist, he’s no longer limited to mere human perception. He ought to be able to manage.”

  I couldn’t help myself; Lysande was almost in my lap, pressing her tits against me. I turned in my chair seized one of her tits as spoils of war.

  I heard Onyx’s voice close to my head. “Rasputin’s taken Dom away. I think we’re done here.”

  I said, “No, don’t…”

  The darkness snapped out. Lysande sat up in her chair, pulling her dress to where it covered her once more. I was left there unsatisfied, licking her moisture off my fingers. I listened to Onyx’s fading laughter and footsteps as he and the girls exited. The rest of the crowd was in full uproar. The coffin was indeed gone, and several security men rolled off the moderator, allowing him to struggle to his feet, his clothes in disarray. I wondered if one of the security people on top of him had been enjoying themselves the way I had been.

  I sat where I was, waiting as security men and women rushed over to point weapons at me from the aisle. The nearby patrons pulled back from me, standing quiet and motionless, scarcely daring to breath.

  With mock surprise, I took notice of the black-suits. “Something wrong?”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  “Conveniently, my moral compass keeps getting lost.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  I stood, my erection straining my pants. I adjusted myself for comfort and slid out into the aisle. Lysande followed me, using me as a human shield. My respect for her ruthlessness went up a notch. I slid my stare across the crouching black-suits, ignoring their guns. I was pretty sure they wouldn’t open up and risk killing the patrons behind me. I was also pretty sure they wouldn’t rush me—not after I’d demonstrated that I could grow shadow blades from my hands in a second.

  I could afford to take a laid back attitude because plots of cactus plants were sneaking up on them—scooting along the floor—while the rest of the auction patrons stood well back, watching the drama. This night was going to live in memory a long time.

  The woman with the blue Mohawk and pierced nose stood closest. She glowered at me. “You better have two point two million to pay for that casket.”

  “You mean the stolen property just recovered by its owner? We owe you nothing for that except punishment for aiding and abetting our enemies. We offered you a finder’s fee. All you had to do to get it was to take our first bid and close the sale. But your boss got greedy. He just kept pushing for more and more. You should get down on your knees and suck my cock in gratitude that I even let him live.”

  She jammed her gun in my face.

  I batted her gun aside, snatched her by the shirt and pulled her to me, crushing her lips with my own. She shoved at me while trying to bite and tear my lip. I jerked my mouth back barely in time, but didn’t release her.

  Suddenly, she froze, shock and awe freezing her wide-eyed face.

  Someone else tried to sucker punch me in the head.

  Lysande intercepted the incoming fist, seizing the wrist. There was a brittle crack, a masculine scream, and the gun fell to the carpet. The broken wrist was released. Black suits pulled the injured man away.

  Lysande hissed at me. “What in Gaia’s name are you doing—right in front of me, too?”

  “Creating a diversion,” I said.

  Blue Mohawk stirred back to life, feeling my crotch to see if it was truly as huge as she’d thought when I’d pressed against her. I smiled. “No, that’s not a sock. Give me a call sometime and I’ll arrange a more intimate tour of the attractions.”

  She slapped on a feral grin. “Be careful what you ask for. You might get it.”

  The cactus demons rose, returning to naked, prickly, human form. They loomed behind the black suits.

  “Oh.” Lysande saw them. “Yes, that ought to calm things down.”

  A very shrill scream rent the air. We all looked over to the moderator. He’d abandoned his lofty podium, and was rushing toward a back exit. “That is all I can deal with tonight.” He was ranting to a personal assistant. “We are closed. Put everything back in the trucks and send the merchandise back to the warehouse. I’m going home to get smashed.”

  I looked back at Blue Hair. “Wow, do you think you guys are going to get paid for tonight?” I answered my own question, “Probably not. That floor tile mirror spell was cool, but didn’t seem to stop much, huh?”

  She snarled at me. “I bet people want to kill you all the time.”

  “How did you guess?”

  “Wild guess. Go on, haul ass before I show you what a water witch can do to a human body that is sixty-five percent

  water.”

  By then, the security men swarming me realized that they’d been flanked. Jolting around, their guns locked onto the cactus demons who just stood there like they were rooted into the floor, which was a possibility.

  Blue Hair yelled at them. “Save your bullets, retards. They’re sentient plants for god’s sake. They won’t even notice getting shot.”

  I sighed dramatically. “And here you are without a drop of Agent Orange.” I tugged Lysande along with me toward the front entrance we’d come through. I’d done all the damage needed for the moment, and had things still to do tonight.

  We exited the building, and returned to my Mustang in the parking lot. I turned, and saw that I had a cactus demon entourage following at a respectful distance. An innate ability to alter their coloration at will resulted in the fact that—though naked—they had clothes demurely “painted” on, and likely wouldn’t be arrested for indecent exposure. I figured they were waiting for orders. I nudged Lysande. “Hey, they’re on your payroll. Tell them what you want. I recommend you take a few home with you. And buy some UV lights. I don’t think they need to sleep. Maybe you should stock up on some Miracle Grow.”

  “For how long?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “A couple days just to be safe. I don’t think you’re on anyone’s hit list, but why take chances?”

  “Your job’s over isn’t it?” she asked. “You could come home with me and, uh, protect my body yourself.” She slid against me in a less than subtle invitation to finish what I’d already started. I was sorely tempted.

  “I
’d like to, but I want to make sure Dracula’s moved on with his precious coffin. That way, you’ll be safe and so will Dominika.”

  “The Russian tramp? You doing her, too?” There was a dangerous edge to Lysande’s voice.

  “Just how many girls do you have on speed dial?”

  “It’s business. I can’t have Dominika getting killed because

  I’m shielding you. Things like that have a way of coming to light. It would make Rasputin an enemy I don’t need. Conversely, if I save her by calling Dracula off, he’ll owe me. Sometimes, favors from the right people are more valuable than gold and jewels. If you’re going to take your father’s place, it’s something you need to understand. One of many things you need to understand.”

  “Okay, I guess I see your point. So, you’re dropping me off and then running over to see the Russians?”

  I really, really didn’t want to do this, but time was critical. With great reluctances, I took out a pocket control device and deactivated the alarm system so she could drive my car. I handed her the keys. “Here. You drive home. I’ll come by for my car later.”

  “What are you going to do? Have some of the cactus guys drop you off?”

  “No. If Dracula goes after Dom, he’ll do it fast, before the defenses get too set. I need to move at warp speed. Driving will be too slow.” I waved over a couple of cactus demons and filled them in on their current job assignment, telling them to work out shift rotations at the jewelry shop.

  “Caine Deathwalker?” one of them asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “We are being paid for this?”

  “The going rate for professional troops.” I looked at Lysande. “You want them very motivated to save your ass. Pay them well.”

  “Of course. Do they get something upfront for helping us inside?”

  The demon I’d been talking to trembled. His face came perilously close to revealing real emotion. “We take no pay for honoring our oath. We merely gave what was owed.”

  “That is true I said. But you serve me in this city, and it is my right to reward loyalty.

  The strength I put into your clan house, the wealth I add, make all of you better able to serve me.”

  The demon stilled, then bowed deeply. “Your words are

  wise, and it is your right.”

  “Good. That’s settled. Excuse me.” I stepped away from everyone and took out my phone. As a precaution, I’d added Raspy’s phone number to my list of contacts. I called him up.

  “Rasputin here.”

  “Hey, it’s Caine. Bring me through to you with that folding space trick you do. We need to talk.”

  “I am not stupid,” his Russian accent was thick. “You work for the dark one. I bring you over, he comes, too, tries to catch me by surprise.”

  “He’s off somewhere stashing his coffin in a safe place. I’m on my own time now. If I’m there, I think I can get him to let his grudge go. No one has to die.” Though surviving would certainly piss off Dominika.

  “I do not believe you.”

  “I give you my word as a lord of Fairy that I’m on your side in this.”

  “You may be a lord of Fairy, but you are not fey. You can lie.”

  Damn, he saw through me. “Yeah, but I’m not, honest.”

  I lost the connection as he hung up on me.

  “Okay, time for plan B.” I turned around and noticed that Lysande and the demons were still watching me. She leaned against my car, arms folded under her delightful breasts. “What’s plan B?”

  “I’m going to have to fly. I mean really fly.”

  “Where and how?” she asked.

  “Does everything I do interest you?” I asked.

  “Yes, now shut up and answer the question.”

  “I figure Raspy took Dom back to where he feels safe, in the heart of his territory, probably where he has all that lambs’ blood stored; the wine cellar under the Russian Restaurant.”

  “And you’re going to magically fly there?” Lysande asked. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

  “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” A lot about me I don’t even know.

  People were beginning to circulate across the parking lot,

  disappointed auction patrons who missed out on their show. Guess I’ll make it up to them. I took off my coat and tossed it to Lysande, followed by my shirt. She seemed disappointed when my pants didn’t follow. She was familiar with the dragon blood tattoos inked all over my body. The cactus demons had never seen them. They made interested sounds that I took to be the demon equivalent of ooing and ahing. I wondered how much of my magic they could actually sense.

  I hunched forward, arms curled in front of me, my fists down. I probably looked like a bodybuilder, or maybe someone in need of a good laxative. I reached into my mind for my inner dragon’s attention. C’mon, I need your help.

  Hell, no. I remember what happened last time I let you grow out my wings. You crashed us into a McDonald’s sign. And into an eighteen-wheeler. You busted my wings up pretty badly, too.

  Hey, it was my first time. I’ve got it down now. No problem.

  No means no.

  Okay, what do you want?

  I want out. I want to be the one running amok while you sit around inside me, caged up the way I am now.

  Three days, the next time I go home to my kingdom in Fairy for vacation.

  Done!

  His agreement echoed in my head, as savage pain knifed my back. I could feel the bones of my shoulder blades melting, reforming, and growing. Bone spurs burst out of my skin, splaying blood around me on the concrete. Warm, wet blood trickled down from my open wounds. The flow stopped as I healed. Meanwhile, freshly grown muscle and skin—sensitive as hell—grew along the jutting bone ribs.

  I looked past the cactus demons, and saw Blue Hair. She had her car keys in her hand, and was staring at me like she’d never seen anyone grow dragon wings before. The demons studied me with bright yellowy gold eyes. Whatever they thought, their faces hid well. Lysande was staring, my keys fallen at her feet. Her mouth hung open. More and more of the preternaturals in the area were heading this way, no doubt

  wondering what fucked up thing I’d do next.

  I dismissed the distractions, breathing deeply, letting my body adjust to the new blood circulation and the feeling of muscles I didn’t normally have. I felt pressure in my eyes.

  What are you doing? I asked my dragon self.

  You don’t have goggles. I’m growing you a second set of eyelids, some inner, transparent ones. You don’t want to smash into a building because flying grit blinded you.

  Oh, yeah, good thinking. Hey, my feet!

  Yeah, some claws for latching onto things in flight. Very handy.

  No more elective surgery.

  But you need a tail to stabilize you in the air.

  It will make a hole in my pants.

  My dragon asked, What’s your point?

  Hell, never mind. Just hurry it all up. I got places to go.

  My tailbone hurt as bone grew in at an accelerated fashion. My new tail burst out of the seat of my pants, wet and raw with muscle and scaly skin still forming. I knew all these changes were going to have to be compensated for. I’d soon be hungry enough to eat a javelina or two. I lashed the tail impatiently, getting the feel for it. At last, with sweat dripping down my torso, I straightened and faced my audience, having become half man, half pigmy dragon. A true transformation would have left me roughly the size of a school bus, which was small as full-blood dragons go. In dragon form, they considered me a pygmy, one of the reason I couldn’t get much respect from my mother’s people.

  A flutter of palms sounded. The clapping spread through the crowd. The were-beasts were particularly impressed, pounding their hands together, stomping feet. They had the option of man or beast. It takes a skilled shifter to achieve and sustain a partial change.

  Too bad I’m not charging for this show.

  We should, my dragon said. Ha
ve your girlfriend pass the hat. All forms of jewels are accepted.

  I squatted low and sprang into the air, my wings beating heavily as I fought for altitude. It was at times like this I was grateful for more than human strength. I left the parking lot far below. The lot dwindled as did the buildings. I soared into the dark sky, tasting the winds, reveling in sheer speed.

  Here I was, on the way to playing hero, and all I could think of was a quick descent through a fast food drive-thru. Oddly enough, even some of the humans down below on the sidewalks were starting to look tasty.

  Cut it out, I told my inner dragon.

  But who’s going to miss a pedestrian or two?

  TWENTY-SIX

  “Dragons are very pragmatic creatures. If they

  can’t eat it, own it, or fuck it, they leave it alone.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  Vamps aren’t very good at blending into crowds. It goes against every poser instinct in their body. Plus, there is often leakage of their psychic mind-rolling power that draws sluts to them like flies to poisoned sugar. Just a cursory glance—as I plunged down out of a hunter’s moon—spotted a dozen of them drifting along the storefronts among the human population. What surprised me more was the lack of damage to the street outside the gallery where I’d left soldier of fortune guys and their vehicles breathing their last. Santa Fe didn’t have the seriously heavy network of “cleaner” services I had in L.A., back home.

  Of course, with Raspy’s ability to bend reality to his will, I supposed he could handle his own clean-ups quite well.

  I pulled my dive to a less steep angle, aiming for a window on the second floor. I had a general rule: when doing something dangerous, try to at least have the virtue of unconventionality. Since I’d likely find surprises inside, it wouldn’t hurt to be a surprise as well.

  I wrapped my wings around myself at the last second, letting inertia explode me through the glass and the wooden frame of the window.