Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2)

by Morgan Blayde

  “Magically wiped clean,” Josh said.

  I said, “Wolves could have cleaned up with pack magic, or maybe they’ve allied themselves with a new player.”

  “Or a new faction from among the old players,” Vivian said. “That Mason sought you out privately could indicate a dhampyr splinter group with him at the head.”

  “Maybe.” I didn’t want to voice my real concern just yet, that the wolves had brought stray vampires into their territory to strengthen their power base. Vamps drink blood. So do dhampyr. And the dark ones among the fey. We need to eliminate some of the suspect groups. But for now…

  We came across a wooden buffalo outside one store. I insisted Josh use his phone and get a picture of me riding the beast. “For my blog,” I explained. There’s a shadow web in a corner of cyberspace only supernaturals know of, hopefully. Even there, I am a legend.

  Vivian stood with arms crossed until we were done. She probably rolled her eyes, but it was hard to tell since she sported dark glasses. Her coat stayed on even though the summer sun had gone red and was riding low in the sky. Sunlight wouldn’t kill her like a full vamp, but she didn’t rush to embrace its fading glory. Her head turned as she tracked the storefront displays; windows full of handmade chocolate, taffy, Peruvian imports, tees, crystals and tarot cards at a new age shop…

  “Those shopping genes must be hell on your vampire half.” I don’t know why I brought up her darker nature. I knew it would piss her off.

  Oh, yeah, that’s why.

  She glared at me, eyes a deep, vibrant pink, shining through her shades. She bared fangs. “Don’t make me bite you, demon scum; I might get poisoned.”

  “Worse ways to go,” I said. “But you’d never make it past my defensive shield—not without taking off your clothes.” For some reason, my shield equates hot, naked women to non-threats.

  She sneered in a rather pretty way. “In your dreams.”

  I smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve had you there. Want to hear the details?”

  Leading down the boardwalk, Josh spoke over his shoulder, “You guys really need to get a room and work out your issues.”

  “Good idea,” I said.

  “Shut up,” Vivian told him. “I’ll tell Kat you were mean to me.”

  Josh fell silent. I guess Kat really was the only thing he feared.

  We passed a few bars and cafes, not the right one though, and cut over to 2nd Street. A block later, we turned toward the Sacramento River which lay on the far side of the Old Sacramento State Historical Park. The six-pane street lamps burned gold, adding a cheery glow to the deepening twilight. We followed a black fence that wrapped around a sunken patio. Half-occupied tables and chairs were down there, each set with its own umbrella. There were unused outdoor heaters wearing steel hoods shaped like Chinese straw hats. The table cloths were a hunter green, accented by white napkins. A lower double door was open, showing indoor seating and the rest of the restaurant. A sign over the doors said: THE ZONE. I saw waitresses in delightfully skimpy outfits.

  “This is the place.” Josh pointed at a black iron gate in the fence, where the first store front stopped, and the next business began. “The stairs are through there.”

  “Lead on,” I said. “Something tells me I’m going to like this place.”

  “Don’t like it too much,” Vivian said. “We’re in town on business, not to get your rocks off.”

  I frowned, following Josh through the gate he opened. I asked, “Whatever happened to killing three birds with one brick? Never heard of multitasking?”

  Vivian assumed a superior tone, “Leave that to us women. We’re genetically better suited to it.” We diagonally followed a red brick wall, tromping down wooden stairs that creaked and groaned like a damned soul.

  At the foot of the stairs, we were met by a server with pad and pencil pocketed in a small black apron belted around her acid green dress. “Take a seat anywhere,” she said. “I’ll bring you menus and get your drink orders in a minute.”

  Josh moved toward an empty table. I delayed a moment, watching the waitress’ assets.

  Vivian slapped my arm, hard. “Are all women just sexual objects to you?”

  I stared in her eyes, giving her my best look of guileless innocence. “Oh no, not the ugly ones—unless they wear a bag over their head in bed, and the lights are out.”

  She growled low in her throat and stormed off to our table, leaving me to follow. I did, watching her assets. I took a wrought iron chair with tied-down padding, one placed so I could keep my back to the wall. Protective shield or not, I followed my training. Vivian unrolled her napkin and picked up the table knife, throwing me a suggestive look.

  “Order a steak,” I said. “They’ll bring you a grownup knife.”

  She ran her thumb over the very blunt edge. “We wouldn’t want it to be too quick. Besides, what do you want to bet your shield wouldn’t recognize this as a threat?”

  Josh sighed and shook his head sadly side to side. “Children, I can’t take you anywhere.”

  I studied the other patrons. Common humans displayed moles, freckles, facial stubble, balding patches, beer guts, all wearing casual clothes. On the other hand, the fey were unnaturally beautiful, alluring, and easily mistaken for celebrity actors, actresses, and rock stars, always ready to be worshiped. There were also protective runes cut into the walls to fend off evil intent from other preternaturals. The fey didn’t want to be hassled while dining.

  The waitress returned, handing out menus. “Here you are. Can I bring you drinks while you’re getting ready to order?”

  “Beer,” Josh said, “a pitcher. The lady will have the Bloody Mary Surprise.”

  The waitress dropped her voice. “Dhampyr? What blood type do you want?”

  “I’m fine,” Vivian said.

  She was embarrassed to drink blood in polite company. I needed to help her get over it. I told the waitress, “Get her an O-neg.”

  “Really, no,” Vivian said.

  “Look around you,” I said. “Plenty of people are doing it. How long are you going to fight what you are? I happen to like what you are.”

  She didn’t look happy, but she didn’t continue to argue.

  The waitress’s friendly gaze slid over to me, her raised eyebrow forming a question. “And for you?”

  I had a sudden desire for vodka, Kahlua, and Irish cream liqueur. “Vodka mudslide, with plenty of mud.”

  “Coming right up.” She flounced away with a bouncy walk that delighted my soul. I leaned toward Vivian. “How come you don’t ever walk around like that?”

  “There are enough cheap whores in the world.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “How is that even possible?”

  The drinks came, along with a basket of fresh baked bread. We placed our orders. Josh chose classic fare; blackened salmon and white rice. Vivian declined food, telling the waitress to keep the Bloody Mary’s coming. I went with a rare steak and a breaded onion flower with dipping sauce. Mushrooms and grilled onions came with the steak. The waitress said, “I’ll get your order going right away.” She smiled at me, instead of Josh, and hurried off.

  Vivian glowered. “What is with your freakish charisma?”

  “Josh is a devoted married man. It shows. You, as a woman, are less likely to be swayed by her charms, and tip big. That just leaves me, and the monster living in my pants, straining for release.” We were talking about me, my favorite subject, so I could have gone on endlessly, but I spotted three individuals approaching our table. They looked like they were hunting up trouble. I softened my voice, giving warning, “Incoming.”

  Josh put his pitcher of beer back on the table after only a small sip. He leaned back in his chair, giving the three strangers a casual study.

  Vivian held her glass in both hands, ready to use it as a weapon if she had to. Yeah, she already bristled with weapons, but I figured she didn’t want to be obvious.

  With a thought, I warmed the Dragon Sight tattoo
on my back. The activating magic sent red waves of agony through my torso like I’d swallowed a flaming sword. As the sensation faded, I relaxed and looked over our visitors. To my eyes alone, their outward forms rippled, peeling away in smoky shreds. Through the glamour, I saw fey, two men and a tall, uncommonly thin woman with emerald eyes and hunter green hair. Her dress was a sheath of shimmering silver scales. From the damp hair, faintly green coloration, and webbed fingers, it wasn’t hard to guess their nature.

  “Water fey,” I said.

  “Makes sense,” Josh said. “The river’s just a stone’s throw away.”

  They stopped at our table, angled to face Josh. The woman placed a flat box on the table. Her fingertips stayed in touch with it as if she couldn’t quite stand to part with it. Her stare clung to Josh’s face. She slid the box to him. “A gift for your new bride that she may know the river folk hold her in great esteem.”

  Josh reached out as her fingers curled away from the prize. He lifted the lid, grunting in surprise. “Beautiful workmanship.” He turned the box so we could see a bed of midnight blue silk cushioning a silver necklace. The centerpiece was a thumbnail-sized black pearl braced by smaller white pearls on either side.

  Using Dragon Sight, I looked for fey power, a curse, or blessing. Fey gifts are often both.

  Dangerous to accept, dangerous to refuse. Fey can be touchy, easily offended.

  “The necklace is only what it seems,” I said. “I’d know otherwise.”

  The woman paid attention to me for the first time. Her glance traveled slowly over me. Her nostrils flared as if she could scent my magic. “And who would you be?”

  “Caine Deathwalker.”

  The name seemed to have no effect on them. That disappointed me. They probably spent too much time soaking their heads to keep up on current affairs beyond Sacramento.

  Recalling her manners, she bowed shallowly to Vivian and me, then turned her whole interest to Josh. I think she was giving him a taste of her glamour, trying to charm him a little. Unfortunately, Kat wasn’t here, or a cat fight would have been on for sure.

  Josh set the box on the table. “We’ve been married a few months now. Your gift comes late.”

  “Does that make it any less beautiful or welcome?” the fey woman asked.

  “No, but the timing makes me wonder…”

  The fey men stiffened behind the woman, their eyes icy and arrogant. One of them said, “You know about the killings, don’t you?”

  The woman looked over her shoulder, sending her male a scalding glance. “I am dealing with the liger,” she said.

  “Killings?” Josh asked.

  She faced Josh once more. “There have been three of our people torn apart by a terrible beast.”

  One of Josh’s fingers traced the edge of the box’s lid. “And since we’re such good friends, you wouldn’t object to me bringing my clan down to the river in the morning, helping you to scent out this predator?”

  The fey woman smiled. “We wouldn’t object, no.”

  Josh nodded in sudden decision. “Expect us at dawn.”

  The woman bowed once more, deeply respectful. “One will be sent to your home to guide you to us, and bring your cats through the protective wards we’ve cast.” Without saying goodbye, she turned and passed between her guards. They fell in behind her as she left.

  I caught Josh’s eyes. “For someone who doesn’t want to be the Master of the City, you sure are racking up brownie points with the fey.”

  “You can take the shape-shifter out of law-enforcement,” he said, “but you can’t take the law-enforcement out of the shape-shifter. Too many years as a PRT agent I guess. There’s just something about monsters threatening the common good that makes me want to kill them.” He reached out and snagged the necklace box, closing it, putting it in his pocket. “Do you think these fey deaths have anything to do with the wolves’ slaughterhouse?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, but when you go for your river walk in the morning, I’ll be with you.”

  “And me,” Vivian said.

  “No,” I told her. “I have another job for you. I want you to bury your dislike of Mason Mason, and see if you can ingratiate yourself with him. If you talk bad about me, he might put you on the payroll as a double agent. I want to know if he represents a splinter group among the dhampyr, and if he’s being watched.”

  “That tracker on his car,” Vivian said.

  I nodded. “Right. If the wolves weren’t trying to get a handle on us, then I want to know who’s trying to get a handle on the dhampyr. Besides, there’s that mysterious force feeding his magic. We can’t rule out he has the dream stone we’re looking for.” I fell silent, seeing the waitress approaching with our food. She dropped off the dishes and moved away.

  That’s when I reached for my glass and found it replaced by the obsidian bottle. I sniffed the bottle; Still Crown and Coke. The red pearl that hung around my neck pulsed with gentle warmth. The Red Lady lived in another dimension, in a non-linear flow of time. She claimed to know—and love—the future me.

  Yeah, right, like I can forget you’re out there with designs on my body, waiting for me to get desperate enough to call on you. Not going to happen.

  Her soft, mocking laughter echoed in my head, saying otherwise.

  FIFTEEN

  In for a penny, in for a pounding.

  —Caine Deathwalker

  Our waitress slipped me her phone number along with the check. The number went in my pocket, an option for later tonight. After paying the ticket, I led my troops upstairs to the boardwalk. As I opened the black metal gate—Vivian a step behind, Josh bringing up the rear—my magic barrier activated, a shield of shimmering red blurring the air. Fire splashed my barrier. Like a living thing, it clung and writhed tenaciously, obscuring my view of our attacker. My shield obscured some of the flame’s color, but I thought it a dark, muddy shade of green.

  The assassin.

  Caught inside my shield at its formation, Vivian shoved me down behind a black Jetta parked alongside the boardwalk. The shield moved with us. Lying on the boardwalk, I heard the whump of fireballs pounding on the other side of the vehicle. Whoever owned the Jetta was going to have a hell of a time explaining this to their insurance company.

  As if I didn’t have magical protection, Vivian pressed herself over me, a living shield against anything lobbed over the car. Pinned down, I was touched in more ways than one. The growing monster in my pants all but whistled a happy tune.

  Vivian looked back to see what had become of Josh in all the confusion. With his background in the PRT, I wasn’t too worried. As her stare returned to my face, her look of disgust was shattered by one of disbelief. Something compelled her to rock to the side and grab my crotch. I hissed, wincing. She’d not been as gentle as I’d have liked.

  She said, “That’s not natural. No one gets that big who’s not a shape-shifter.”

  I gave her a cocky grin. “Now you know what you’ve been missing out on.”

  A reddish-orange explosion washed across my shield along with muted thunder. Metal pieces rained off my barrier and went back out into the street. The concussive blast set off car alarms. And a flaming tire slammed the restaurant fence and bounced back, heading away. The car we’d sheltered behind was gone.

  Vivian’s body peeled away. Her hand jerked off my crotch, not in a good way. She dragged me up with dhampyr strength and slung me over behind another car. I flopped to the boardwalk, my shield moving with me. She followed, now outside my shield, ducking behind its dome for cover.

  I got to my knees and peered through the car’s side windows, scanning for the green flame assassin, for Josh, and for more fire coming my way. I had a shield, true, but I’d noticed that during my last exposure, her mystic fire had started eating through my barrier. If she were to corner me and pour on the attack, my shield might eventually break. Besides, constant defense limited my ability to counterattack. I needed to capture the momentum of the fight fro
m my adversary.

  The incoming fireballs were fewer and spaced out more. Wherever Josh was, he was drawing fire away from Viv and me. The angle of the green fire changed. Balls splattered the vehicle’s backside.

  “She’s heading for the river!” I yelled.

  Staying low, Vivian ran past the end of the street, into the grassy rectangle which was posted as Old Sacramento State Historical Park. I followed, drawing a PPK from my shoulder rig. I didn’t see Josh, but I heard the liger’s bellow of rage coming from the direction of the old Pacific Rail Road Depot. He and the assassin were already half a block away.

  With Vivian dogging my steps, I followed the boardwalk, trying to catch up to the running battle. I ran across an alley mouth on the left, and passed one of the few streetlights burning in the vicinity. The black lamp caught a green fireball that melted its middle, sagging the pole so it resembled a modern sculpture. The concrete under foot, along the edge of the grassy field, was rough and worn, dusted with loose gravel on top. I slowed slightly so I wouldn’t slip and turn an ankle.

  Vivian barely seemed to even touch the ground. She pulled away from me like I was standing still. Ahead of both of us, the liger’s roar cut off. He’d probably been forced to drastically change his angle of attack, dodging fire close up.

  He oughta leave this to me. All that fur is flammable. And if I lose the liger, I lose a key piece to fixing this city.

  Vivian swung away from an island in the middle of unused railroad tracks where maple and oak grew. She headed for a structure where old trains were housed for display, along with hand carts, and an antique luggage crane. These were visible through the black grille of what looked to be a twelve foot iron fence. Part of the fence was gone, turned into pooling slag. The lady assassin had retreated into the locked area for cover. Flashes of green light told me that Josh was keeping her busy inside.