Then again, Cole thinks as he passes a trio of dissenters, their ironic purple trousers a mocking jibe on royalty, none of these have faced actual struggle beyond choosing between this year’s or last year’s fashions.
Cole glances to his left, seeing a few of the green-garbed Lunarian Guard watching. Local constabulary, they usually let the dissenters have their say unless they cross a certain line. Cole gives one of them a nod, and he nods back. Cole remembers the last time he brought the subject up with Her Highness and her guidance on the subject.
“It’s like a pot, Cole,” she said, her voice charming, as always. “If you seal it, the heat of the world will eventually make enough steam, and the pressure will crack the pot and destroy the whole thing. But if you have a safety valve, let some of the pressure off . . . you can use the heat to make a wonderful dinner.”
“Look who it is, the Cum Slut Queen’s gigolos!” someone taunts, drawing the four to a halt. Tyler looks shocked that anyone would be so disrespectful, while Noah’s face flushes with rage.
“Excuse me?” Noah asks, his hand tightening on the haft of his staff. Only a fool would push him further in such situations, his massive strength and even more massive anger the source of legend even as he still serves.
A rather tall, skinny dissenter stands forth, his pouty, cocky lips twisting into a sneering smile. “You heard me, whore. Just because the queen demands worship from all the faerie warrior cock in Lunaria, it doesn’t change that you’re nothing more than a common cuckold.”
The Lunarian Guardsmen step forward, but Cole holds up a hand, staying them. “Her Highness has guaranteed all Fae the right to express their opinions,” he says, his voice tight with rage. “Even if it’s a disgusting one.”
“Well, then, try this,” one of the other purple-garbed dissenters says, stepping forth. He’s broader in the chest than his compatriots and looks like he might know how to handle himself. “Kill the Cum Whore Queen!”
Cole stops, surprised. Never, in all his hundreds of years of service to Her Highness, has he heard a threat so boldly made against the throne inside the city walls. What’s even more remarkable is that instead of shocking his compatriots, Cole notices that some of the other townspeople start joining the group of dissenters, grinning.
“Are you insane?” Cole asks, placing his hand on the handle of his sword. He’s often teased by his friends for his formal speech, and they know that when the ‘thees’ stop, the blood starts to flow. “Free speech is one thing. Blasphemy and treason are another.”
The disreputable faerie throws back his head. “Queen? That wood sprite is a ball sack licker who would choke on demon cock daily if she didn’t have her cadre of cum maidens to do her dirty work. She holds us down, denies our rights, and feasts on our sweat. No more!”
Cole draws his sword, but it’s Noah whose rage is now stoked to a boiling point as he steps forward, brandishing his staff. “On your knees, you spineless coward!”
The man laughs, his voice starting to echo, growing deeper and more powerful, his eyes glowing green. Cole lays a hand on Noah’s shoulder while raising his sword. “That’s no commoner, Noah. We have a demon in our midst.”
Sadness and anger fill Cole’s body as he utters the words. The last time any demon was found within the walls of Lunaria was when Cole hadn’t even gone into Guard training yet. Most of the rifts between the Fae realm and the demon realm produced demon hounds, and occasionally, the minor demon who’d literally raise a little hell on the outskirts of the territory, not penetrate the actual walls of Lunaria itself.
To do that, Cole knew they faced a major challenge. “Brothers, gird yourself. The demon must be destroyed.”
The demon laughs again, dropping the last of his magical disguise, his skin darkening to the dusky tones of his type, his fingernails lengthening and his teeth bulging against his lips. “Fools, it is your queen who will be on her knees after I feast on her people. I shall plunder, pillage, and rape your women to my heart’s content, and when I'm done, I will have the queen for myself.”
At least the transformation caused some of the Fae to break free of the demon’s enchantment, Cole thinks as the demon continues to change, roaring as he morphs into a huge, scaly, dark green beast. Jaws snapping, the demon tears three townspeople in half before Tyler can unleash a single arrow, Jacob’s silvery knife flashing behind it. Both thud into the demon’s side, but it doesn’t seem to mind as it continues its attacks.
And now the peace of Lunaria is again shattered by the remnants of The ‘Lightbringer’ flashes through Cole’s mind as he quickly tries to form a plan. Seeing that the Lunarian Guard has not fled, he points. “Distract him! Save the civilians!”
The Guardsmen fight bravely, but as Cole advances, he sees that for some of them, their bravery overwhelms their brains. Lunarian Guard weapons are not enchanted. They have no power against such a beast, and when one of them charges, his sword serves as little more than a toothpick for the demon.
“Tyler!” Cole yells as he closes in, ready to strike. “Is your bow good for anything other than looking cute?”
“Of course!” Tyler yells as he fires another arrow, “but it’s not designed to take down a fullly-grown demonic wyvern! That’s on you and Noah!”
Tyler fires as Jacob hurls another knife, both weapons striking home more effectively this time, Tyler’s arrow lodging in the beast’s left eye while Jacob’s knife somehow finds the narrow gap of its nostril. The demon roars in rage, and Cole, seeing his opening, attacks.
Noah is right with me, he thinks in satisfaction as his friend’s staff crashes into the beast’s right leg. It stumbles, its jaws just snapping over Cole’s shoulder as the half-blind demon roars again, this time in pain. Plunging his sword into the beast’s belly all the way to the hilt, his muscles surge, drawing the enchanted blade all the way up to the demon’s throat before ripping out, bathing Cole in blackish-red blood. The beast drops, and Cole looks into its dying eyes.
“I send thee back whence thou came,” he says, lifting his sword and cleaving through the beast’s neck. The head rolls away, shrinking as the enchantment wears off, and Cole picks it up. “The queen should see this.”
“She needs to be made aware,” Jacob agrees, and Cole looks around. The market, previously a place of great gaiety and joy, now reminded him of too many other battlefields, and sadness again tinges his heart.
“You’re right. Come. Let the Lunarian Guard start their cleanup.”
“The demon is dead, Highness,” Cole says, dropping the head on the platform steps leading up to the white stone- and jewel-encrusted throne. “I suspect, from his power, that he was a demon lord, although what rank, I do not know. Your Guard defeated him before he could cause too much devastation.”
On the throne, Cassina, Queen of Lunaria and Protector of the Light, stares balefully at the large demon head for a moment, her chest heaving in rage. “How many were hurt?”
Cole looks up, his lustful side taking in the queen’s beauty. A thousand years old, she’s still as beautiful as a maiden, her generous curves barely concealed by the translucent robes. Unlike his brethren, Cole had once seen the queen in all her glory . . . although he had never touched her perfect flesh. She had ordered him to be her bath attendant, and the sight of the water glistening on her skin as her golden hair clung to her body had more than fueled Cole’s fantasies for years to come.
“The Lunarian Guard will have a full report as soon as possible, Highness. But I would estimate the casualties at two dozen civilians and three Guardsmen. We struck back as quickly as possible, but there was still damage.”
Next to Her Highness, the Handmaiden Lysette glares at the head with pure hatred. Militant, wily, and devoted to her mistress, her words carry much weight in court. “How is this possible? Were you not sent to close the latest rift?”
“Not a single demon hound slipped through our grasp, Handmaiden,” Noah reports, his voice deep and rumbling. He detested Lysette. Her cap
ricious temper almost always sparked against his restrained nature, but he still respected her place next to the queen. Only an idiot would disrespect Lysette in front of Cassina. “If I may offer a suspicion, the rift was a ruse, a distraction while the demon lord infiltrated the city.”
Cassina says nothing for a minute before speaking, her voice quaking with rage. “For centuries, no demon, lord or otherwise, has ever been able to step foot in our city! It is protected by faerie magic. And none have ever gotten so close to the palace! This should never have been possible!”
“It’s those damn humans!” hisses Lysette. “You know the truth, Highness! They won’t stop with their constant fighting, and it’s causing the veil between our world and the demon realm to grow fainter.”
“The Handmaiden speaks some truth,” says Argura, the queen’s sorceress, who’s standing to her left. She’s one of the oldest faeries and one of the last ones born with the gift, the magic of Fae itself. She still would not be one Cole would want to anger. “But there’s more than that. Something more powerful is causing a ripple through the cosmos.”
“What?” Cassina says. “Tell me, Argura. What does your inner vision tell you?”
“Something that I’ve hoped would never happen,” Argura replies. “I fear, Highness, that one with the power of Fae itself has now come into being . . . in the human realm.”
Cole remains quiet, hating the shocked silence that falls over the court. Few even breathe, and even Cassina herself sounds shaken when she speaks. “Are you sure, Sorceress? There hasn’t been a faerie born with the gift since before I came to the throne. Only minor magics. And only those of noble blood even have the ability to contain such power. How did this happen?”
Argura nods. “I understand your concern, Highness. I don’t know how it has happened, but whoever is causing this disturbance, causing the veil between the human world and the hellish realms to grow faint, it is because only now is her power coming awake. And it must be a woman—that is assured. To stop this, she must be found before her powers cause more trouble.”
“Who can I send after this faerie?” Cassina asks, sitting back in her throne. “If Argura can sense this, certainly, the old Lightbringer king can sense it as well.”
“Perhaps I and a few others can do it,” Lysette offers, a falsely sweet smile on her lips. “It will be easy, and I will beat this upstart faerie into submission until her powers are suitably tamed.”
“No!” says the sorceress, her voice rising. “Though I can sense little, I know that this new power—she is innocent in many ways but is even more powerful than me. If she blindly strikes out with her power, it would be devastating to all three realms. And against another woman . . . no, this will require the work of the male Fae. My eyes may be blind to the color of my robes, but I can still see the coils of destiny. Only they will succeed.”
Lysette looks upset but says nothing as Cassina ponders more. “Which men?” she asks. “Mere soldiers would be ineffective. They do not know Earth. This is the work of the Imperial Guard.”
“More than that,” Argura says, turning her gaze unerringly to Tyler, Cole, Noah, and Jacob. “It requires the best of your personal Guard. Those men. My power is telling me if we are to succeed, they will be the reason.”
Eve
I can’t believe you’re doing this, I think as I adjust my short skirt and make sure that not too much of my ass is hanging out the back. I mean, going undercover is part of the job, hon, but this . . . even for a detective, you’re nuts.
I don’t have a reply to my inner voice except to say that it’s the only plan my partner and I could think of. Ever since the rumors came out of Old Haven that vamps have been trafficking in live humans, the regular cops have been trying to crack the case to no avail. That’s when they turned to the 54th Investigative Precinct, sometimes called the Para Justice Squad. Some of the cops keep calling us the Para Justice League . . . but I just can’t. Reality is too scary to joke about now.
It used to be different, when I was a little kid. Back in those days, words like ‘vampire’ and ‘werewolf’ were just the fodder for scary movies or bedtime stories, not reality. All that changed, of course, when I was still in elementary school and the bloodsuckers tried to take over New Zealand, figuring an island of their own was past due.
For a few years there, we were on the ropes, and it looked like humanity might lose. The vamps brought out the shifters, each side hating the other while we tried to figure out what the fuck was going on. They were able to replenish their ranks quickly too, turning so many of their victims that it became heartbreaking to even hunt them because you never knew whether you were going to find your best friend with fangs.
Eventually, we started to adapt and found that some of those old superstitions weren’t fantasies. Crosses might not do shit to a vamp, but light, specifically ultraviolet light? Hell, yes. Silver is effective against both species, and it was easy to turn a regular rifle into an effective weapon.
It took another six months for the militaries of the world to replace their high explosives with silver and UV, and steel bayonets were replaced by white elm stakes, which seem to be the most effective against vamps and shifters.
Of course, not all Paras want to kill and wreck shit. A lot of them just wanted to be left alone in Seattle or Munich or Haven. Humanity still didn’t trust the Paras, but too much blood had been lost for us to continue the fight for now. So, treaties were made and the Para Laws passed.
Such as the one I’m investigating. Drinking blood from a human with or without consent has been outlawed, and if found to be guilty, punishment is severe. Regular jail is just the start. Vampires can be sealed for years in steel coffins, sometimes even killed. We don’t need any new vamps running around, ready to sink their teeth into fresh necks.
“Eve? Yo, Earth to Eve. You paying attention?” my partner, Detective Joseph Gonzalez, asks. He and I have been partners for three years now, and he’s pulled my tookus from the fire a few times. “The Red King, my work last night, all that? You awake today?”
“Yeah,” I reply, shaking my head. “Just remembering what it took for you to get that name last night.”
Joe, who’d spent three hours last night trolling hookers as he looked for ‘special action,’ nods. “All that working up, with no payoff except a club name. I’m not saying I would have done them, but damn it all, it gets to you.”
“Note to self—Joe Gonzalez gets turned on by blast hos,” I tease. “At least I know what to get you for your birthday.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. What you can really get me is a few days of peace and quiet. Just a week without a major vamp problem—would that be too much to ask?”
Joe’s right. For most of the past year, the vamps have followed the rules, getting their blood from the banks set up throughout Old Haven. It was one of the settlements from the Para Wars. We supply them from volunteer blood drives, and they agree not to feed on the living anymore.
Then one of the local notable vamps had to go and try to cross the New Haven Bridge, the control point between Old and New Haven. He killed a border guard, and his public execution was the match that ignited the unrest. Human bodies started to show up all over the place in Old Haven. At first, it was thought that maybe a few bold vampires were taking revenge on the humans for the death of one of their own.
The problem was, these bodies were devoid of bites, which made it harder to pin the crime on a vampire ring. Some of my peers think they’ve found a way to cover their tracks.
I think something far more sinister is at work, but I don’t know what.
It’s my job to find out what it is. But offering myself up for a blood buffet is probably not the best way. “Yeah, well, it was your turn last night, my turn tonight. So, what do you say?”
I sigh and stand up from my desk, knowing that Oppenheimer, whose desk is behind mine, is probably getting an eyeful of my ass. Hope he enjoys it. It’s one of the reasons I like working with Joe. He at leas
t acts professional and never harasses me personally.
“Fine, let’s get going. So nice of the captain to hang around to make sure we’re safely out of the nest.”
Joe snickers and grabs his jacket. “You got beef with the captain?”
“Me, beef?” I ask innocently. “Now why would you think that? He treats me with the utmost respect,” I reply sarcastically.
“You know, Joe, when you said you didn’t want to go in against a club full of vamps, I didn’t think you meant this. This is a terrible idea!” I bitch as I try to fix my dress again. Seriously, why can’t nightclubs do something . . . fitting? I pat my left thigh where my concealed UV laser is pressed against it in a narrow holster. “Don’t I look stupid trying to be a wannabe Lara Croft?”
Joe chuckles. “Nah, Croft always wore red lipstick, not black. We’ll fit right in.”
I smirk. Joe’s right. Besides, I do look sexy. While my golden blonde hair isn’t quite the definition of goth, which is The Red King’s client base, my pale skin and gravity-defying boobs certainly help. My eyes glimmer with the gold flecks that I’ve always had, and while this little orphan doesn’t know a thing about her parents, I’m at least glad I got something worthwhile from the fuckers.
“You ready?” Joe asks as he adjusts his black tie. I don’t know why he insists on a tie even tonight, but it doesn’t even stand out on him. Black suit, black shirt, black tie . . . with his slicked-back dark hair, handsome face, and broad-shouldered muscularity, he could pass for a vamp himself except that his skin’s too dusky. “It’s a Para night.”
I glance out the window of the old house we’re using as our operations base, nodding. It is a Para night. The moon’s out, high and pregnant in the sky. Even the shifters will be out in full form. “Let’s take care of business. Still don’t like this plan.”
Joe shrugs. “What better way to catch a fox in the act than to offer him the chicken?”
Guardians of Hellfire (Guardians of the Fae Book 2) Page 21
