Demon Lord 6: Garnet Tongue Goddess

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Demon Lord 6: Garnet Tongue Goddess Page 6

by Morgan Blayde


  I saw a body gripping a ceremonial dagger. The metal was discolored and pitted, as if it had been used to stab something with acidic blood.

  In the nest of bones, I saw the remains of a baby. The child’s teeth were broken out, missing. So were the legs. Instead, from the waist down, was a snake’s spine ending in a rattle. The baby hadn’t been entirely human.

  Naga, or nagi for a female. They were a supernatural class common to India and Africa, giant snakes that could take on human form. I knew there were colonies in the U.S., but I didn’t know exactly where. They kept to themselves, considering other supernaturals to be of an inferior class.

  This is turning into a very interesting case.

  Above the baby skeleton, a greenish yellow light formed. It wobbled in place, not quite perfectly round.

  Christie made an “Eeek!” and jumped back, whipping her katana from its sheath with a scraping sound. She gripped the hilt in both hands, ready to fight for her life. I really hoped she wouldn’t stab me by accident.

  I stayed where I was as the light zoomed past me, nearly clipping me. It continued on, blurring across the basement, arcing up into the ceiling where it vanished. I wasn’t sure if it had seen me or not. The test of my Demon Wings tattoo was inconclusive.

  “Another ghost,” Christie said.

  “Not a human one,” I said.

  “Huh? What’s that mean?”

  I shrugged. “I doubt it will play well with the other spirits. I’m sure things are going to get more chaotic.”

  “Teresa will be happy. Drama means good ratings.”

  “Then why hire me to come in and fix things?”

  “That’s not what she hired you for. It’s just an excuse to get you on her program. She says you’re an urban legend, the ‘Red Moon Demon,’ whatever that means. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but there are ‘ghostly’ lights rigged up to turn on and off, spooky sounds on hidden speakers you’ll hear, and special boots have been made so the rest of the crew can go around the building and leave ‘monster tracks.’”

  I snorted. “As if I’d fall for that stuff.”

  Actually, maybe I would have. I knew better than anyone else that freakish, supernatural things existed. I, myself, was proof.

  Christie said, “It’s not about what you believe. It’s about scripting an ‘unscripted’ reality show that will get picked up by a major network. You’d really be helping us out by playing along.”

  “Hmmm.” I started toward the stairs, and she fell in close behind. “Let’s go see what the baby ghost thing is doing now that’s awake, too.”

  We retraced our path, passed through the sanctuary, and out the side door. Running across the weedy lawn, I heard a blood-curdling scream echoing from the third floor. I quickened my step.

  “That’s not … real!” Christie called. “It’s prerecorded ambiance.”

  I reached the back entrance and waited for her. “Good job.” I held open the door. Another scream pealed out. “Even better.”

  “That was real,” Christie huffed, a little more out of shape than I would have expected of a Power Ranger.

  We ran through the halls, following the screams. Malevolence stumbled into the hall from a classroom, a hammer in one hand. Rooster followed her out, carrying a baseball bat.

  “Beethoven’s bones!” he said. “Who’s dying?”

  “Sounded like Deedee,” Christie said. “She’s been staying with Clifford in the principal’s office.”

  “I didn’t hear him scream,” Rooster said.

  Might be dead. No, there he is.

  I saw the black man backing into the hall, belting a plaid bathrobe around himself. His feet were in fuzzy slippers. He stared the way he’d come from, horror on his face. Abruptly, he turned our way and ran at us, feet pistoning furiously.

  I dodged around him, still cloaked by my tattoo magic so only Christie could see me. She called after me. “Caine, be careful.”

  What fun is that?

  I entered the room and skidded to a stop. The ghost lights were back, a whirling cage. Inside, from the waist up, was Deedee, breasts on proud display. From the waist down, she was a snake, a nagi—which I knew to be wrong; she’d smelled entirely of fey before. I could still see some of the woman she used to be despite the new puffy cheeked, spade-shaped head. Her upper jaw bone had rotated, allowing hollow fangs to swing down from the roof of her mouth and face outward to bite something any size and inject more venom than snakes with fixed fangs.

  She hissed at the lights and clawed at them, doing no damage. Her lower body coiled, tail tip sticking out, a rattle in evidence. Her snake half was a muddy green. She had the coloration of a Mohave Green viper. Her tail trembled, making a chuch-chhh sound. Her eyes were unnatural, yellow-green stars in her morphed face—eyes the same color as the escaped baby ghost light.

  It’s possessed her, somehow tapping fey magic to produce this change. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

  A quick scan of the walls revealed a new clock. My enhanced dragon vision zoomed in on the center where the hands met. There was a lens there. A hidden camera, catching all the action. But not me.

  I moved up to the whirling cage of lights and generated a dark spark of shadow magic, zapping a rust colored ghost. They were impervious to my dragon fire, but shadow magic appeared to get their attention. The rust colored light detached from the cage and zipped around randomly. Unable to find me, it returned to the rest of the swarm.

  I had confirmation: ghosts can’t see through my Demon Wings magic. So, okay. What do I do about Deedee? Can’t let her new instincts take over—she’ll eat someone. Hey, wait a minute… Why haven’t the ghost lights lost interest and left? If Deedee and Clifford were fooling around, that would explain them coming, but nothing’s going on now. Ah! Of course, the fact that all these spooks share a mass grave means they have a history.

  The nagi lunged into the side of the cage made by the swarm. There was a crackle of pastel energies, colors that would have looked better on Easter eggs. Her body in pain, Deedee thrashed and shrieked, displaying a whipping garnet tongue. What the baby ghost-thing inside felt—if anything—I didn’t know.

  Deedee threw her head back and screamed. This time, the yellow-green ghost sphere of Baby flew out of her throat. The dazzle of light was brighter and overall more jagged-surfaced than the human spirits. They couldn’t keep it in the cage. Baby zipped away and the swarm chased after her.

  I was left alone with Deedee, but she was no longer a threat. Unpossessed, the fey woman swayed on a tail that split in two, the extra mass bleeding away as a yellow-green mist that dissipated in the air. Deedee’s face returned, the fangs dissolving. A moment later, she was her true self—her elf self—without the glamour that made her appear purely human. She leaned to the side, her eyes closing, all emotion drained from her bland expression. Her skin was peeled-willow white, her hair a silver cloud. She was still naked, on legs now, with breasts that had dropped a cup in size.

  Even fey can feel insecure and cheated by nature.

  As I held her, she was rendered invisible. To those watching on the vid camera, it would look like she turned human and had then dissolved away just like her snaky parts. I carried her over to a huge desk that was actually still in decent shape. A large sleeping bag lay on it. I stuffed Deedee’s unconscious form inside, covered her face to protect her fey identity, and left her to what probably wouldn’t be very pleasant dreams.

  In the silence that followed, the rest of the reality show stars crept in, except for Clifford. He was probably still running. Or changing her pants.

  I dropped the Demon Wings spell, wanting to take credit for “saving” Deedee. My fade-in caused concerted gasps from those in the room, except for Christie. Her voice lashed out. “See? I told you Caine was here. I’m not crazy.”

  “Crazy people never believe they are,” Rooster said.

  “Wow, dude!” Malevolence’s hands choked up on the hammer she held. “That’s so co
ol. How did you do that?”

  Looking totally fuckable in her skin-tight, mostly black Power Ranger suit, Christie pointed a white-gloved hand at me. Her katana was in its sheath again. “He’s totally a ninja sorcerer.”

  “Yeah, what she said, so don’t piss me off.” I grinned and let the shadow butterfly I’d planted on her dissipate.

  Malevolence said, “I wish you were my father.”

  Ears turning red with strong emotion, Rooster stabbed me with a hard glare. He muttered. “Stupid ninja tricks don’t make a good dad.”

  I sighed. Is it my fault I’m not a loser like you. This damn perfection of mine is such a curse.

  1

  EIGHT

  “There’s never a Shinto priestess

  around when you need one.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  “Listen up,” I told the reality stars in the office. “I’ve got errands to run. You guys stay together and suppress any sexual impulses that come around. You’ll be safer that way. Sex draws the ghost swarm. The swarm draws the baby snake ghost. The snake ghost probably won’t turn anyone else into a nagi or naga, but there are other ways it can hurt you. Just keep calm and hide until I get back.”

  If I weren’t getting paid to deal with the spooks, I’d suggest they walk out. Of course, they wouldn’t get paid by the show, and they might get into legal trouble. I kept silent, doubting anyone would give up their chance at TV fame anyway.

  “Where are you going?” Christie asked.

  “My magic is better at dealing with material threats than spooks. I need to find a certain kind of backup to fix things around here.”

  I also need a liquor store. I’m definitely too sober for all this.

  “I want to go with you,” Christie said.

  “Me, too,” Malevolence chimed in. “I need a break from this dump.”

  “Then I’m going, too,” Rooster said.

  “Hell no,” I said. “The people I’m going to see can be dangerous. Bringing along sightseers might ruffle feathers, claws, and fangs, and other kinds of stuff.”

  “It’s okay.” Malevolence held up her hammer. “I’ve got this.”

  “Hold that thought.” I pulled Christie over to Deedee in the sleeping bag. I whispered. “I need you to stay here and make sure no one looks in the sleeping bag at Deedee until she’s conscious again. It’s very important.”

  Christie stared at the hidden figure. She whispered back. “Why?”

  I lied. “The aftereffects of her forced change will take a while to go away. She’s not quite back to normal. I don’t want someone seeing her and jumping to the conclusion that she’s a preternatural. It could mess up her whole life.”

  The truth was, she looked fey because she was fey. I wanted to give Deedee a chance to keep her cover. She’d owe me, big.

  Christie leaned over the sleeping bag, peeled it open a little bit, peering in. She nodded and closed up the bag again. “Yeah, I see what you mean. Are you sure we don’t need a doctor? Someone that pale might be in shock.”

  “Know any witch doctors?” I asked.

  “Uh, no.”

  “Just trust me on this.” I left her there and strolled back to Rooster and Malevolence. “Rooster, I need you to find Lillian and bring her to the cafeteria where everyone else will be.” I put an arm on his shoulder and dragged him away from his daughter. I whispered. “It’s a dangerous job. Do you think you’ll be able to fight her off if she wants to force herself on you?”

  Rooster thought about it and gave me a grave nod. “It would be a natural response for her, but I think I can hold her off, and keep it in my pants.”

  Sneakily, Malevolence had followed us over to listen in. She said, “That’s not what Mom says.”

  I pushed Rooster toward the door. “Go, and do not fail me.” I grabbed Malevolence’s arm so she wouldn’t follow. “It’s like staking out goats to catch tigers. The goats might get hurt, but the village stays safe. Also, I’ll know where I can find the spooks when I get back. Don’t be surprised if Lillian and Rooster don’t show up in public any time soon.”

  Malevolence made a gagging sound and shuddered. “I don’t want to think of my father having sex. Hey, let me come with you.”

  “It’s against my better judgement, so, okay, fine.”

  She jumped up and down a little and followed me to the outer hallway. We ran into Teresa there.

  “Caine! What the hell was all that?” she asked.

  “You saw it on the video monitors, right?” I said.

  “Seeing’s one thing, understanding is something else.” She said. “And where did you come from? One second, you’re not in the room, then you are. Poof, Caine. Poof!”

  I shrugged and walked on, forcing her to walk backwards. “Must be that intermittent fault in your camera system.”

  “But the other cast members didn’t see you at first either, and why did Deedee become Python Girl? Is she a shapeshifter?”

  “No. I think you can blame that weirdness on the baby snake ghost that just showed up.” I pushed past Teresa and kept going, Malevolence a step behind me, keeping quiet.

  Teresa called after us. “Where are you guys going?”

  “Taquito Bell!” I called back. “I’m craving a cheese-filled chu-whump-um and cardio-assail-me fries.”

  Malevolence stage whispered to me. “You know, that’s not real Spanish.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “It’s not real Mexican food either. We’re also going to hit a liquor store. I do my best work drunk.” We reached the main foyer, about to turn toward the exit, when Holy and Shiva intercepted us.

  “What’s going on?” Shiva asked.

  “Where are you going?” Holy asked.

  “We need reinforcements. I have a couple guys in mind.”

  “Reinforcements?” Shiva said. “But you’ve got us.”

  “You guys missed all the action, again,” I said.

  “It was gnarly,” Malevolence said. “A ghost turned Deedee into a snake woman. We almost died!”

  “Really?” Shiva said. “I’ve never fought one of those. It’s gone now?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “But keep watch. It could return at any moment.”

  “Yeah?” Shiva smacked a fist into the palm of an open hand. “You think so?”

  “Sure. Get Teresa to show you the vid footage of it. You’ll see what you might be up against.”

  Electrical jags crackled and slithered along Holy’s arms. “How do you want it cooked?”

  Malevolence stared at the albino demon girl. “You’ve got to teach me how you do that!”

  “I thought you were going with me?” I said.

  “Oh, yeah, right.” She looked at Holy and whispered. “Later!”

  We finally got out of the door. Minutes later, buckled into my Mustang, we went slinging around the drive and out onto Highway 101. I had to drive the wrong way for a while until I could cross to the other side where 101 headed the opposite direction. Teresa had said that the town of Hawthorn was just a mile down the road. She claimed I’d missed it coming out, in my haste to drive that old lady off the road. That couldn’t be. My senses are far more sensitive than humans. Even if I didn’t see a small middle-of-nowhere town, I’d have smelled it. Especially the garlic scent of a pizzeria.

  Passing the haunted school, I kept an eye on the mileage. After a mile, we reached nothing, just empty countryside, but Malevolence piped up. “Hey, you just missed it.”

  “I did?” I pulled off onto the shoulder of the road. “Show me.” We got out. I locked the car and let her lead the way. I watched for buildings, for an off road. Nothing. Mal seemed to know where she was going. She turned suddenly and the dirt underfoot became pavement, materializing a little more with each step she took. A sign faded into view a few feet away: Hawthorn. Population 214. As we moved on, more road appeared, and then a small town ghosted into existence. Not really a ghost town; a place of the fey. It had been magically shielded from preternaturals, but not f
rom humans with money to spend.

  I guess I’m the kind of visitor they’d rather not have.

  This was actually what I’d expected. Some of the pizza boxes in the school cafeteria had smelled of fey—and not just Deedee. My guess was that she was from here, and had been sent to make sure the TV people didn’t stumble on anything the fey might want to keep hidden. That would explain her sudden appearance among the reality stars. It also meant that I might be able to find the backup I needed here, specifically, a magic user.

  As I looked around, following a sidewalk, Mal slanted me curious gazes.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Something wrong with your eyes?”

  “No, not any more. Listen, I need to ask you to do something for me.”

  Her gaze turned into a suspicious glower. “What?”

  “I need you to forget your manners while here. Do not say thank you to anyone, for anything.”

  “Huh?”

  “Listen, what we’re seeing isn’t really here, exactly. This is all a glamour. Magic. This is a place of the fey.”

  “Fey?”

  “Fairies, not the gay kind.”

  “Oh! Like Tinkerbelle!”

  “Real fey are not so cute and can be very dangerous. They can bend your emotions and make you fall in lust with them so they can have their way with you. We might not even be in the human world anymore. Just to play it safe, say nothing. A simple ‘Thank you’ implies you’re indebted to a fey in some way. They can use that admission to bind you to them, so rudeness is the rule.”

  The buildings were human in design, but with a quaintness to them; elements in harmony, unexpected touches of simple beauty here and there. The street lights looked more like old fashioned gas lights. Our sidewalk gave way to a five-foot wide boardwalk. This time of night, the shops were closed. We saw no people. We passed the pizzeria, and this time I did smell the garlic. There were roped strands of it hanging inside the windows. I could see tables with red-and-white checkerboard tablecloths. A neon sign was extinguished. A closed sign was displayed on the front door.

 

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