Demon Lord 5: Silver Crown King

by Morgan Blayde

  “Fuck me blind!” I muttered. “This is actually nice.”

  I ducked again, sensing a shadow hand forming behind me. I wound up ducking into the swing of the hand. The Old Man does learn from his mistakes.

  “Glad you like it.” He led the way to a table near the pool that was different from the rest, longer, and set for a large number of guests. He took the center position of the table, sitting in a chair especially designed to accommodate his seven-foot, hyper-muscled bulk. He wore a toga himself, edged in gold, to better showoff his many winding, nautical-themed scars and tats. With the baby blue skin of an Atlantean demon, he fit in with the décor beautifully.

  The girls filled in to either side of him. I settled across from him, picked up my empty wine glass, and waved it in the air toward the staff.

  A female demon with wooden antlers and green leaves for hair came up to my chair and bowed. “What can I get for you?”

  “Anything left in the cellar that’s fit to drink?” I asked.

  “We have a very nice Chianti Classico ’97,” she said.

  “Eighteen ninety-seven?” I asked.

  “Uh, no, my lord, nineteen-ninety-seven, but I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”

  “The Old Man nodded,” a good year for the Tuscany vineyards. This wine was rated the best of the century and can’t be found on the market anymore. Fortunately, I was able to, uh, acquire two crates.”

  “Did they just happen to fall off a truck?” I asked.

  “If by ‘falling off a truck’ you mean, ‘did I steal them from the White House’—I have no comment except to say that politicians bought the bottles with money stolen from the public through taxes. The Federal Tyranny should not be allowed to prosper from such villainous work.”

  For a demon, the Old Man had a weird sense of justice and honor. If he thought the wine was good, it probably was. I nodded to the waitress. “Bring a bottle, and some soda for the girls.”

  Tera stared across the Old Man at Julia, asking, “Soda?”

  Julia stared back. “A mystical, bubbly elixir found only on earth. You’ll like it.” She turned her face to the waitress. “Cherry colas with lots of ice.”

  The waitress bowed to Julia—which I really did not expect—and said, “Yes, my Lady.” She hurried off to get our drinks.

  I looked at the Old Man. “Why such a big table for just us?”

  The Old Man glanced toward the balcony where the help were opening the French doors to catch a sea breeze. “We have more guest arriving.”

  Several figures dropped out of the sky, onto the balcony, and strolled in like they owned the place. I recognized Drake and Kinsey, and assumed the rest were guards. Drake folded his dragon wings against his human back, sliding them under a steel gray cloak that matched his close-cropped hair, medieval-style tunic, and hose. He wore a jeweled codpiece over his private parts.

  I softly snorted in amusement.

  A shadow hand whacked the back of my head.

  I looked at the Old Man. “Why? You thought it was funny, too.”

  “Yes,” he said, but I didn’t disrespect a guest by making an audible sound.”

  Well, I suppose…

  Drake’s cloak was pinned with a hematite clasp. He wore knee-high black boots, both with jeweled dagger hilts poking out of the top. The weapon were jarring; he usually didn’t carry any. He must be feeling a little more vulnerable than usual. I noticed that his gaze ignored me and the Old Man, skittering off Kinsey, but returning to her time and again. Ah! That’s who you’re afraid of. Interesting.

  I shifted my focus to Kinsey. Beautiful as ever and just as prickly, her eyes flashing proud fire, her head lifted high. She also wore a gold, sleeveless gown that smelled like real gold. I wanted to immediately rip that dress off her—and run away with it. In place of her cherished rapier, she wore a wide black leather belt with a silver and sapphire buckle. The belt supported a pair of holsters tied down on her thighs. Military 45. I guessed. Her straw colored hair was French braided, a brighter shade of yellow than her antique gold eyes. Her usual kung-fu bracelets were gone. Instead, she wore gold-dyed leather wrist cuffs with throwing spikes sheathed all around them.

  Reaching the table with Drake at her side, she looked at me. “Caine, nobody’s killed you off yet?”

  Drake’s deep-set, brown-and-yellow eyes found her. “A little more respect, please, for the occasion, if not the dragon.”

  She said, “If it’s not pure-blood, it’s not a dragon.”

  I stared at Julia. She sat still, shocked, her mouth open, her face growing red. She looked like someone had just slapped her. Like me, she was only half dragon. And yeah, she’d heard other kids saying that, but adults were usually too polite to hurt a child needlessly.

  I rose and turned toward the end of the table where our guests stood. I stared at Kinley, letting her see death in my eyes. “If your so-called honor must flout itself by spitting venom, aim it at me, not my child. Forget this again, and I will hurt you.”

  The Old Man’s voice was raw with surprise. “Caine, your hand.”

  I looked down at my clenched fist. The shadow brand of circled lightning was dark as obsidian. My trembling fist spiked with branches of black, electric fire, each dying fork continually replaced by more. I drew a deep, calming breath and willed the shadow brand to go dormant. The black lightning vanished, but not my anger; it was just leashed.

  I stared back at Kinsey.

  Face pale and troubled, she was looking at Julia. “I—I didn’t mean…”

  I jerked my head toward the door. “Julia, Tera, c’mon. We’re going out for Chunk O. Cheesy Pizza.”

  I walked toward the door, hearing chairs scrape, shoved back. The girls ran to catch up with me and took my hands.

  Tara whispered to Julia. “What’s pezzuh?”

  The Old Man yelled. “Caine, wait, we have important business here.”

  I didn’t look back. I said, “Old Man, your rules won’t let me kill your guests, but I probably will if I stay.”

  Drake called out. “Caine, wait, please.”

  Please?

  I stopped and turned, the kids revolving around me like moons. I glared at Drake, ignoring Kinsey.

  He bowed formally. “One under my authority gave offense in the face of hospitality. The shame is mine.” He knelt, casting away his dragon pride. “Accept my apology and name what amends need be paid.”

  Kinsey gasped in disbelief, her face paling. The same reaction spread like wildfire across the guards they’d brought. I’d always suspected that Drake harbored a streak of genuine liking for me. This proved it.

  I looked down at Julia. “He is apologizing to you. It’s up to you what you do with it.”

  She looked up at me, then over at Kinsey. “But she’s the one who was rude. Why does he have to apologize?”

  I shrugged. “I guess because his honor is real and hers isn’t.”

  “That isn’t fair!” Kinsey protested.

  “Neither is picking on a kid,” I said.

  “You know I didn’t mean to. When the dragon-child was kidnapped, I gave you permission to call on me. I told you I’d fight at your side for her sake.”

  Julia tugged on my hand. “She did?”

  “Yes,” I said, “But we handled it without her.”

  Julia said, “Well, she willing. I suppose we can forgive her—just this once.”

  I nodded. “Fine, we’ll get pizza another time.”

  Tera said, “What is this Pezzuh?”

  “Tell you later,” Julia said.

  We walked back. The girls resettled. I stood behind my seat, watching Drake stand. He gave me a deep nod and pulled out the end chair, sitting down. Kinsey pulled out a chair around the corner from him. She sat, paying a great deal of attention to moving the wine glass to just the proper distance from her plate. Unfolding her cloth napkin also seemed a chore requiring her full attention. If she were screwing me, I’d have been tempted to fill some pity, but she
wasn’t, so I didn’t.

  I looked at the Old Man. “Want to tell me what skullduggery you’ve got going on? The day my family comes to me on bended knee is the day Hell freezes over and they hold the Winter Olympics there.”

  The waitress was back, making the rounds, taking dinner orders. An ice bucket on a stand was placed next to me. It cradled the Chianti I’d ordered.

  The Old man kept me waiting, placing his order. “Lobster tail pizza with Mediterranean olives, and a nice white garlic sauce. And a bladder of Greek wine with that. Crème brulee for desert.”

  Julia jumped in. “Tara and I’ll spilt a ham and pineapple pizza with bacon bits.”

  “Pezzuh!” Tera echoed.

  The waitress looked at me.

  “Ah, what the hell. Okay, we’ll eat first. Lobster tail and a New York strip, but I’ll start off with some coconut shrimp skewers.”

  The waitress wrote it down and moved on to Drake and Kinsey. Drake ordered two full lobsters and a side of curly fries. Kinsey just said, “I’m good.”

  I stared at her. Time for a little torment. I kept my voice soft and inquisitive, “So, our food isn’t good enough for you?” She sent me a scalding look, but I somehow survived.

  She said, “I’m just not hungry.”

  “You know,” I said, “in some cultures, it is forbidden to lift hand against a man you’ve shared salt with. For that reason, people wishing you ill won’t eat your food.”

  “What are you accusing me of?” Kinsey asked. “Plotting to stab you over desert?”

  I shrugged. “It crossed my mind.”

  She growled low in her throat and glared at the waitress. “A grilled cheese sandwich, French fries, and a milk.”

  The waitress drew back a little, as if expecting to be bit, but wrote the order down. She hurried off.

  I looked at the Old Man. “Well?”

  He drew a deep breathe. “Seasons change, as do the rhythms of life. Old goals, achieved, are set aside with faded dreams. The thoughts of a man turn to retirement, to surrounding himself with comforts, and to enjoying what the centuries have wrought. There comes a time when the torch must be passed on.”

  I said, “In other words, you’ve been too busy running an empire to get laid, and now you’re going to retire to Florida. Good news, Old Man. I’ll help you pack your bag.”

  “I’m not moving away, but I am stepping down and handing you the black crown of the demon clan.”

  About time. An odd thought hit me. Black Crown, a demon reference, that’s also the name of the Slayer’s secret project. Could just be envy of what we’ve got, I suppose.

  The Old Man said, “And one more thing, I’m getting married.”

  The whole room went deathly quiet.

  “To who or what?” I asked.

  Drake turned to Kinsey, smiled weakly, and said, “Now, just hear me out.”

  I smiled with bottomless amusement. An arranged marriage, behind Kinsey’s back. I so didn’t see this coming.

  “Fuck!” Kinsey said.

  “Fuck!” Julia said.

  A hand-shaped shadow formed behind Julia’s head, swatting her.

  “Hey!” she said. “That hurt.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  “Hell’s broken loose; call a decorator.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  “You traitor!” Kinsey unrolled the steak knife in her cloth napkin and picked it up, scarcely pausing to admire the Brazilian rosewood handle before swinging the serrated edge over to Drake, pressing it into his throat, forcing his chin higher, his head back. Displaying admirable nerve, he remained motionless, as his guards crept closer.

  He said, “Killing me won’t change the fact that our clan has entered into negotiations for your marriage. In fact, a murderous streak in your character raises your value as a bride. Demon’s love that kind of thing.”

  “It’s true,” the Old Man said. “We do. Now, why not put the knife down and discuss this like an adult. We have to set a good example for the kids.”

  Sneaky. I saw why the Old Man had wanted them here. Damage control. He was using Kinsey’s maternal instincts against her.

  She looked over her shoulder as several guards got close enough to jump her. Her voice went low. “You want your asses kicked, too?”

  “She said asses!” Julia pointed out. A shadow hand formed behind her head, smacking her. “Hey! Why pick on me and not her?”

  The Old Man explained, “She’s a guest who has forgotten her manners in a moment of shock at finding out she can actually have all of me for her very own. You are family, and so held to a higher standard.”

  Julia crossed her arms, a sulky expression on her face. “That really…” she cast a fast glance past the Old Man, “…uh, never mind.”

  In times like these, I fell back on habit; I opened the bottle so the wine could breathe.

  “Not going to say anything?” the Old Man asked me.

  I shrugged, then paused in thought. “If you can drag her to the altar—that will make her my new mommy.”

  Kinsey made a choking, gagging sound. “Now I really have no appetite.”

  “Uh, Careful, my dear,” Drake urged. “I think I’m bleeding a little.”

  She pulled back the knife and let it clatter on the table. “What do these demons have on you, Drake? Why would any self-respecting dragon want to be shackled to a demon? A blue one at that?”

  Drake cleared his throat and picked up his water glass, taking a sip. “It’s not my idea. This comes down from the top.”

  “Kur? Uncle Kur is doing this to me?” Kinsey sat down unsteadily.

  I asked for clarity, “That would be my grandfather, right? The guy currently sitting on the dragon throne that’s mine by right of blood and strength. I get it now. He’s afraid I’ll kick his ass and take over the dragon world. He wants some leverage over me.” I looked at the Old Man. “Why not offer Kinsey to me then, instead of you?”

  Kinsey’s eyes narrowed into feral slits. “Like I’d pollute myself so far.”

  I told her, “You are one insult away from getting seriously hurt, you know that?”

  Her hands were in her lap, hidden by the table. She thought I didn’t know that she was pulling throwing spikes off her wrist band, arming herself. Drake’s curious gaze gave her away.

  The Old Man answered me. “No one expects you’d do anything with Kinsey except ravage and impregnate her. You certainly wouldn’t care enough about her feelings to spare the dragon world.” He touched his bare chest with one hand. “I, on the other hand, am the last Atlantean demon, a breed known for chivalry, integrity, and honor. Kur is counting on me siding with him out of family loyalty. He also thinks I have some small control over you.”

  “I do put up with more shit from you than anyone else would survive.” I poured myself a drink, feeling a shadow hand forming at the back of my head. I let the shadow tat on my hand crackle with black lightning, a warning. “No more head-smacking, Lauphram. I’m grown. It’s disrespectful to a Lord of Fairy, crowned or not.”

  Kinsey shouted at Drake, “My happiness is being thrown away in the name of politics? I’ll challenge Kur for the thrown myself before I put up with this crap!”

  “Don’t say that, even in jest,” Drake said. “Throughout history, cadet families have been exterminated for much less.”

  Kinsey held his stare. “Who—the fuck—is joking.”

  “Bad word,” Tera pointed out.

  Lauphram looked down on the little girl sitting beside him. “I know. It’s terrible how literate expression has become so disreputable in recent centuries.”

  I frowned at him. “I’ve been to ancient Atlantis. I happen to know they cussed quite freely back then.”

  “Memory softens reality,” the Old Man said, “winnowing out the parts least glamourous. Life should be that way, too.” He stood, sliding his chair back, impressing us all with his seven-foot, Mr. Universe body. He came around Julia’s chair and advanced fearlessly on Kinsey.


  She tensed like a rabbit in the shadow of a hawk.

  Lauphram stopped near her and held out his hand. “Come, walk with me. At least allow me to plead my case. You’d do that for anyone, wouldn’t you? What can it hurt?”

  She looked at Drake.

  He said, “We are under an oath of protection offered by our host. If I did not believe Lauphram’s word was good, I would not have brought you, no matter what my brother orders.”

  She looked back at Lauphram’s hand, just hanging there. She put her hand in his and stood. He led her toward the balcony—as if those with dragon blood didn’t have heightened hearing.”

  Julia said, “She can’t marry a prince before she gets to dance in glass slippers at a ball. That wouldn’t be right.”

  I nodded. “Well, she is invited to my coronation in Fairy. She can do her dancing there.”

  The star-crossed couple went outside. While pretending to be absorbed in my wineglass, I listened shamelessly to the Old Man. He said, “First, do you find me utterly repulsive? Is blue so unbecoming? It seems to me that it contrasts quite nicely with gold. I know, it’s the demon part that throws you. I have character references…”

  “It’s not that,” Kinsey said. “I’m sure you have your good points, for a demon. I’ve just never envisioned marrying someone who was not full-blooded dragon. Besides, hasn’t enough damage been done by bringing half-breeds into the world?”