Argos barked, but didn’t move. I helped Charon to the couch in the living room. Despite his thin form, he made quite the noise when he tumbled into the ruined leather.
“Oh, be gentle, Kal,” Charon said. “Didn’t the ladies ever teach you that?” He laughed at his own joke, then started coughing.
“You should get him a bucket,” Argos said.
“That bad, you think?” I said.
As if to confirm it was indeed that bad, Charon vomited all over himself and then, to add insult to injury, pissed his pants. Argos’ sharp collie snout wrinkled into a disgusted curl.
“Aw, come on, man,” I said, throwing my hands up into the air. At least he hadn’t ordered me to do anything. As my warden, Charon could tell me to do whatever he damn well pleased. That was how the whole Inquisition business had started in the first place. It dawned on me, given the parallels, that he could also be responsible for some of the events over the past few days.
Charon under the influence of ambrosia was the ultimate wild card. He mumbled something unintelligible, then began to snore.
I got a bucket from the kitchen and placed it next to him. Then I took my one clean blanket and placed it around his frail shoulders.
“Asshole,” he said.
I should’ve kicked his ass out—or worse. But when someone saves your life, literally plucks you off death’s shores, it’s hard to turn your back on them.
Instead, I left him sleeping on the couch and said to Argos, “Let’s go for a walk.”
The dog nodded and yipped, and we headed out the door. When we walked past Nadia’s, I saw the curtain move slightly. I considered going up her stairs and trying to find out what she wanted, but Charon had burned that bridge—at least for tonight.
So me and Argos went wordlessly into the forest near the complex, until we were deep under the tree canopies.
I needed time to consider my next move.
7
You might wonder how a forest sprung up in the middle of the Texas desert. It’s also worth considering how said forest was verdant and still, well, alive. Before I blew into town three years ago—well before—some druid decided the auburn desert could use a little green space.
And, voila, a forest.
Official word was that a developer paid a lot of money to put it in. One of those impossible to explain things that was brushed away with a hand wave and a shrug. But now, with the tainted blood on the streets, and people drinking it, mortals would be taking a closer look at everything.
Argos barked as he peed on a tree.
I looked at him.
“You know I don’t like being watched.”
“Then don’t bark,” I said.
“There was a squirrel in the tree,” he said, his snout pointed at the branches. “I saw him.”
His collie ears were standing at attention. I believed him. That dog could smell things that I couldn’t.
“What are we gonna do with Charon,” I said, snapping my fingers to get him to catch up.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he said between pants. His legs burst past mine, his black and white head brushing against my jeans. I gave him a pat, and he sped up. “Don’t touch the merchandise.”
“I’ve never met a dog who hates being petted.”
“I’m a man of wealth and taste,” Argos said. “How would you like being petted?”
“Depends on who it is.”
“Yeah, I bet you’d like Nadia to pet you,” Argos said, and gave a bark. He darted up ahead, disappearing around a bend.
“Come on, you know I’m not as fast,” I said. There was no answer. “I gotta ask you something, man. Get back here.”
There was a shrill yelp. I raced around the curve, past a cluster of rocks. Argos hung in a mesh net, his teeth snapping at the strands to no avail.
“Kalos,” he whined, “you need to get me out.”
I looked up at the tree. It was a thirty foot elm, sturdy. Argos was near the top. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to rig up a trap. My inkling was that hunters weren’t responsible. The dog writhed and rolled in the net, trying to shake himself free.
“Stop moving,” I called.
“I hate heights, Kalos,” he screamed back. “You know I hate heights.”
I know. I tried to take him to the Grand Canyon back in the fifties and he had a shitfit. But I was much more concerned about the current predicament. Argos might have been immortal, but that didn’t make him impervious to harm. If he landed on his big head from up there, I’d be dealing with a dog that drank out of a straw for the rest of his life.
“I’m too young to die,” Argos said. “You know that.”
I wasn’t sure about that, but I did need to retrieve my friend. Magic was an option, but I didn’t have the Remkah Talisman on me, and casting a demon spell twice in one day was going to exhaust the well pretty damn fast. And one’s soul wasn’t exactly easily replenished.
“Maybe Nadia has a ladder,” I said. “I’ll go talk to her.”
“Oh, yeah, she has it in her studio apartment,” Argos said with a bitter bark. He rolled over, and I caught sight of his eyes. Not pleased. Okay, maybe it wasn’t the best plan. “Just hiding in the back, waiting for you to knock.”
“Then I gotta go to the office,” I said.
“Or ya could stay here,” a vicious, rumbling voice said. “Permanently.”
I didn’t have to wheel around to recognize that I was dealing with a troll. The nasty stench and clobbering footsteps told me as such. Beneath the aroma of dead flesh and unwashed pits, I also sensed that he had a companion. One that smelled like burnt coal and anger.
A demon.
I’m sure there’s a joke about what happens when a demon, half-demon and a troll meet in the woods, but I wasn’t in the mood. The hairs on my arm bristled as I turned to face my aggressor. He hadn’t even bothered to cloak himself.
Two big ugly tusks hung out of his mouth like overgrown teeth. His skin was a deep shade of sickly green, with tufts of hair sticking out everywhere on his face. His large eyes burned black with hatred.
His thick arms and barrel chest pulsed with each fetid breath. He wore a loin cloth and carried a club. Trolls might’ve been stuck in caveman times, but they had one thing going for them. They were scary as hell, even without any magical spells. Get in a fist-fight with one of them, and your brains would be running through your nose in seconds.
“Kalos, did you fart,” Argos yelled from above. “That’s gross.”
“Not quite,” I said. The troll patted his spiked club against his oversized hand with unbridled glee. The menacing motion drew a blackish blood from his large fingers. It was a wonder he hadn’t charged ahead. Whoever he was working for, it seemed, had managed to keep him on some sort of leash.
I couldn’t see the demon.
No, wait.
Its eyes smoldered in the shadows, glowing orange with dark magical energy.
Then it ducked away and disappeared.
That made me more nervous than the troll, who began advancing toward me with great lumbering strides.
“I’ll eat ya little friend when I kills ya first,” the troll said. There was only about twenty feet of forest separating us now.
“I assume you set the trap,” I said, trying to find where the demon had gone.
“The demon man told me how,” the troll said, as if he was some sort of Rhodes Scholar for setting up a net.
“He hold your wee-wee while you pee, too?”
“No!” The troll’s patience snapped. His hideous head lowered like some sort of deformed bull’s, and he charged me.
Just what I wanted.
Trolls might be strong, but they’re dumber than a sack of rocks that got held back at quarry school.
I whipped out the .45, aimed down the sights in the dar
k, and squeezed off two shots. A freight train roar burst through the tranquil forest, the bullets slamming against the troll’s skull with explosive force. My wrist shook from the recoil as the great beast crashed to the ground, rolling to a stop just inches from my feet.
Blackened blood dripped into the soil around my boots.
I stepped back, still vigilant for the demon.
But instead of another adversary, I heard a voice I could never forget.
“Still nimble, Kalos,” Marrack called, his mellow voice rustling through the treetops, running along the ground, everywhere at once. “It’ll be better when we face off this time. A fair fight.”
“Come out here, you son of a bitch,” I said, jabbing the gun blindly at the darkness. My eyes heated up with rage.
“That’s what I want to see. Some fire.” The forest was still, then he delivered the final blow. “You know that’s why she chose me instead of you.”
Then his aura was gone.
I stumbled backward and sat down in the dirt.
Marrack the Demon King was indeed back. And from that little tricky display, he was stronger than ever.
When I got my wits about me, I trotted over to the fallen troll and kicked him over. The brute stank worse in death than he had in life, which was no small feat. Hand cupped over my mouth, I patted his leathery skin down, searching for clues. Trolls were notorious for carving pockets into their skin, literally carrying valuables within flaps of their tough hide.
Along his hip, I found a jagged opening. Reaching my hand inside, I located a chain and a vial like the one I had been handed in the lot. The chain was identical to the one Diana had handed me earlier.
Not a surprise, given that he arrived with Marrack. Still, how Marrack—after a lengthy exile—was now commandeering creatures of the dark was a new one.
I stared at the empty vial.
It was drained of the blood, practically licked clean.
“Hey, Argos,” I said, calling up to the trees. “You think you can do me a favor? I need a little analysis.”
There was a long pause before he replied. “Oh, I thought you forgot about me.”
“I saved you from getting eaten by a troll,” I said. “That counts for something.”
“And you left me at home all day.”
“I’ll scratch your ears.”
“I hate that,” Argos said. “It’s unbefitting of a—”
“Yeah, a man of wealth and taste. I know.” But secretly, I knew he loved all that dog shit. Sometimes I “accidentally” left out bits of bacon near the trash. They were always devoured when I got back from the office. “Fine, I’ll buy you that special edition of Origin of the Species you keep bothering me about.”
There was no reply. The wind whistled through the gentle treetops. It was strange that Marrack had chosen this place to confront me. But I knew this was just a warning shot. He always did have a flair for the dramatic.
“The leather bound one?”
“I’ll even get overnight shipping.”
“Fine, I can do some analysis.”
“I’ll get the Remkah Talisman from the office,” I said.
I rounded the bend in the forest, and almost ran smack into Diana.
She was wearing the same purple dress and flats, but something was different. It wasn’t my finely honed investigative skills, either.
Because the small white wings on her back were literally glowing in the dark.
I stared at her for a moment, and then she said, “A girl could get the impression you didn’t like her, throwing daggers like that.”
“Let’s just say I don’t have a good history with the Fae.”
“You’d better start, Mr. Aeon,” Diana said, extending her hand, light essence flitting off her pale fingertips, “if you’d like to keep living in the sunlight.”
8
“So much for secrecy,” I said, nodding at Diana’s wings as we walked back through the forest. Argos was cradled in her arms, licking her face. Diana had quickly freed him from his bonds without injury, and now he was friends with her forever. She had no problem carrying him, even though he was pushing forty pounds.
She’d also had no problem dissolving a five-hundred-pound mountain troll into fertilizer with some sort of acid-like white magic spell. Which was slightly frightening.
“The landscape has shifted dramatically since this morning.” She scratched behind his ears, and he growled with affection.
“That’s one way of assessing the situation, yeah.”
“The Sol Council thought that transparency was the best way forward.”
I stopped at the edge of the forest. Argos let out a small whine when Diana stopped petting him. His tail wagged, until he realized she was putting him down.
“You’re too big,” Diana said, giving him a final pat.
His ears flicked back. “Am not.”
“No,” I said, a little loudly.
Both of them turned to stare at me.
“I’m not sure I understand,” Diana said. “He’s not too big?”
“The Sol Council and I don’t get in bed together.”
“Never say never,” Diana said with a wink, throwing her hair over her wings. Argos hacked and coughed on the ground. Poor bastard was probably in love. I must admit, there was some allure, but the fact that she was not only Fae, but apparently a major player in the Council gave me a negative hard-on.
“I don’t do politics,” I said. “I’ll get your money back. Some of it’s still at the office.”
Her fingers trailed light essence as she waved me off. “That will not be necessary.”
“You broke the terms.” I began walking toward the glow of the parking lot. If I packed what shit I had in the Cutlass and blew out of town, none of this was my problem. The deal was off—Diana hadn’t been upfront with me, and I felt no obligation to help her out any more.
The Sol Council pretended to be the good guys, but they were as shady as their Crimson Conclave counterparts. I trusted them about as far as I could throw them.
“I’m afraid you can’t back out.”
“Spare me the lecture about good and evil.”
“Then I’ll cut straight to how we’ve been very nice about letting a demon roam in the open all these years, Kalos Aeon.” She cleared her throat, but the effect wasn’t needed. My full attention was already on her words. “And you do recall what happened last time Marrack and Isabella interacted with you?”
“They got what was coming.”
“I’m talking about what else happened.”
I folded my arms and pressed hard against my chest. Usually I tried to forget the past. Today, though, it just wasn’t leaving me alone.
Deep breaths, Kal. Deep breaths.
“You are allowed to operate above ground and in the open only because we allow it,” Diana said, stepping up beside me. The lemon scented conditioner seemed oddly out of place now that she’d shown her true colors. Her wings flitted back and forth in the dim light. “Lest you forgot the deal you struck in 979 A.D.”
“I remember,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m the only demon who gets a pass. All others are hunted.”
“And you’ve been well behaved,” Diana said. “Although using your dark magic today in your office—that was quite foolish.”
I had no answer. Clearly the Sol Council had their nose deeper in my business than I’d realized. All the major political players did, in fact.
I’d be flattered if it didn’t make my blood boil.
“I do this for you, the terms change,” I said.
“I thought your code was strict.”
“It is,” I said. “You fucked with the terms.”
“Language.”
I ignored her and said, “I figure out who’s behind this slice and dice operatio
n, you guys leave me alone forever.”
“I’ll bring it to the Council.”
“You don’t leave me alone, I’m coming after you. And I’m burning the whole thing down.”
“You couldn’t even free your poor dog from a net, Kalos,” Diana said. “Let’s not make idle threats.”
“We’ll see how idle they are if it comes to that.” I turned to face her, my eyes burning at half-strength. Diana almost stumbled over her flat sensible shoes in the lot. The effect was one I saved for hard cases.
This qualified.
And she got the message, because she said, “I’ll make sure they understand.”
“Good,” I said. “Do you know what charred Fae smells like?”
“Don’t tell me it’s like chicken.”
I left her hanging—what it smelled like, and whether I knew. I did, but the suspense would tear her up worse than any concrete description. Instead, I reached into my jacket and took out the blood.
“Your werewolf friend was alive when his paw got amputated,” I said. “And they’re using his blood as the basis for a new drug. Handing it out to mortals.”
“Chaos,” Diana whispered.”
“You catch on fast, Fae.”
Diana reached out to grab the vial, but I palmed it and it disappeared. Her eyes opened wide, unsure whether I had just used some demonic magic before her eyes.
“I’ll need to take a sample to the Council.”
“No such luck,” I said. “It’s crucial to the investigation.”
“They won’t like that.”
“What does the Sol Council care about a werewolf, anyway?” I asked.
“It’s a long story,” Diana said, running her pale fingers through her hair. “Too long for one night.”
“The short version, then,” I said in a tone that indicated refusal wasn’t on the table.
She let out a sigh and said, “We were trying to breed them. With light essence.”
On a normal day, that would have been enough to get me to sit down. Creatures of light magic, trying to breed creatures of the dark. Convert them, rather.
“Why?” I said, tapping my boot against the asphalt.
“That’s above my pay grade.”
Demon Rogue (The Half-Demon Rogue Book 1) Page 5
