Demon Lord 5: Silver Crown King

by Morgan Blayde

“Wait and watch,” I said.

  I stood at the mouth of the valley that held my mountain keep. There was one final task, a final trap to lay. This one I was keeping to myself. It couldn’t leak, even in part. There might be those who’d feel a tremor or two in the earth, but I didn’t think they’d know the significance. Facing the way both friend and foe would come—those not using the portal or my magic mirror—I sank to my knees and dug my hands into the earth, feeling for ley lines and the pulse of the land.

  My awareness sank deep into the ground, tracing currents of energy, letting them carry me to the heart of the land, to the crystal matrix of awareness that made my kingdom unique from other lands. At my non-corporeal touch, the crystal heart flared, its energies a song in my bones, a fire in my belly. We communed, a silent sharing of devotion. The crystal heart accepted a portion of my raw magic, my lifeforce, and the land began to change in response to my will.

  Fifty miles outside my valley, the ground leveled into a basin so that the departing river began to broaden into a huge lake. There were numerous enemy spies out there that were folded under the earth and buried alive.

  That’s right, come against me and chew dirt.

  I didn’t expect this trick to work against an attacking force led by another fey Lord. They’d not only bring themselves, but would come in on a road pulled from their own lands, under their control. And they’d come in hot, flinging so much magic around, I wouldn’t have the focus to use my earth bond too freely. That’s why I was setting my traps in place ahead of time.

  I created a stone bridge across the developing lake.

  I set a command in place in the crystal heart that any intrusions into my kingdom needed to be funneled to the far end of the bridge. Next, I visualized a second mountain-ringed valley beside the first, with roughly the same layout. The bridge forked so that both valleys had a road to them. Target and decoy. Behind me, I fabricated the imprints of hooves, boots, and wagon wheels. I made it look like an army had already come this way. Inside the fake valley, I over-smoothed the ground, as if covering up a well-used trail.

  Lastly, I used shadow magic to make a copy of my Demon Wings tattoo on the bridge’s fork that serviced the copied valley. This made attention shy away from that direction.

  I get it, my inner dragon said. Our allies will come the way we want, and our enemies—which have shadow magic—will find what you’ve hidden. They’ll think the right way is the decoy, and go into the jaws of a trap.

  “Even if the enemy fey split their forces and come into both valleys, we’ll have an advantage; we can take them in two bites, one at a time, and not get overwhelmed.”

  What if the enemy waits here, using spies to check things out? Or they could just have a really good seer among them who will send all of their army in the right direction.

  “Yeah, that would be a real buzz-kill. Well, that’s why this area is so open. With the enemy bunched on the bridge, feeling vulnerable, they aren’t going to want to sit in place. Especially not when Kinsey, Drake, and the rest the cadet family hit them from behind with an aerial attack. With lightning crawling up their asses, no army is going to waste time getting to cover. Panic creates exploitable errors. Errors produce failure.”

  We are going to have so much fun, my inner dragon said.

  I smiled my most evil smile. “Yes, we are.”

  Standing, I listed to the side, staggering a bit before regaining my balance. The manipulation of the land I’d been doing throughout the day was taking its toll.

  What’s your problem? my dragon asked.

  “Low on energy.” The bridge blurred and seemed to waver. I tried blinking it back into focus. “I’ve been burning through a lot of magic without your support.”

  Oh, is that all.

  “Your compassion is commendable.”

  You’re being satirically humorous again, right. I’m getting so I can tell. Here, take some of my power.

  Weariness fell away as my soul filled with a golden light that made my skin glow from the inside. Delicate webs of electrical fire spun around my limbs, dropping down my legs, grounding on the road. I swayed again, but from near intoxication. The earth trembled, then cratered under my feet. Gravitonic forces vortexed and small stones floated into the air.

  “Holy fuck! I’ve gone Super Saiyan! Where did you get this much power?”

  Wasn’t I always this strong?

  “Hell, no! This must have something to do with the deep sleep Selene put you in. Maybe she charged us up for the coming battle.”

  I’m surprised she remembered, as busy as she was draggin’ you around by your balls. Feeling better?

  “Yeah, I could chimp out big time now. Let’s head back. I want to check up on Angie.”

  The land lifted me up on a plate of rock. Like a skimming stone, I rushed back into the valley, moved about like a chess piece in unseen hands. The sensation was not unlike snowboarding. I wondered why other lords used horses in Fairy when such options were available.

  Lack of inspiration or imagination? My dragon wondered.

  “Maybe lack of balls.” I couldn’t see an arrogant fey lord plunging at breakneck speed across rough terrain, trusting the land instead of dominating it.

  We are all victims of our mindsets.

  I skimmed across the valley, along the river, at high speed, seeing flashes of wildlife in the trees. Trout leaped in the water. Here and there, pink flamingoes huddled. The sun hung overhead, indicating noon was close, or maybe just past. My magic stone periodically swerved off road to avoid shadow traps I’d laid, and once to avoid a family of demon-gators in amphibian form, sunning themselves on the bank. One of them lifted a paw to wave. I figured that was Gumbo.

  Eventually, I reached the end of the valley where the treehouse offered an odd contrast to the more rustic keep. My stone skimmed up into the air, clearing the wall around the treehouse gardens. My transport dropped to fresh grass and skidded to a stop near the magic door. Its hinges didn’t seem attached to anything. I walked though.

  A world away, I closed the door behind me. I was back on Earth, in the hallway outside my master bedroom in my Malibu mansion.

  I moved through the house toward the front door and found two members of my security detail lounging in the living room. Nervous, Jo-jo sprang from the recliner, as if I’d found him stealing silverware. Half naked, Megan rolled off the couch, found her feet, and saluted sloppily. She looked rather drunk. Her foot hit a bottle which rolled out from under the coffee table. Some of my best vodka. I also noticed a bloody steak knife on the coffee table.

  The door to my office opened. Jorge came out, a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand, Jägermeister in the other. He saw me and said, “Oh, fuck.”

  I smiled calmly, using a gentle, lulling voice. “Are we all having fun, drink up my booze?”

  Megan said, “Yeah, boss. Great stuff. Wunnerful. Say, where are my pants and undies?”

  The door swung shut behind Jorge. He said, “I can explain.”

  I lifted an eyebrow at him. “Really? Since it may be the last thing you ever do, you’d better make it good.” My right hand slid behind my back. With a thought, I summoned one of my PX4 semi-automatics from the armory in the basement. The weight of the gun felt very good in my hand.

  Jo-jo pointed at a white cardboard box on the floor next to some wrapping paper and a lid. “Someone sent you a poison snake in the mail. I opened the box to make sure it wasn’t a bomb.”

  “Where’s the snake?” I asked.

  Jorge shrugged. “You won’t believe this, but a black leopard came out of nowhere, snapped up the snake, and hauled ass outta here with it.”

  Thinking of Leona, I did believe him. There was no telling what mischief she’d get up to with her new toy.

  “Snake bit me right on the asp!” Megan said.

  “I hadda make a cut and suck the poison out,” Jo-jo said.

  “That part wasn’t bad,” Megan assured me.

  I looked at Jorge. “And
the booze?”

  He grinned weakly. “Uh, antiseptic to clean the wound?”

  “Three bottles?” Behind my back, I thumbed the safety off on the gun. “You know, I feel myself about to yell surprise.”

  Jorge said, “Leave her out of it. She took an injury in your service.”

  “In my assss,” Megan slurred, pointing at her bare rump. She swayed.

  Jorge went on, “And she was in a lot of pain. We didn’t think you’d mind, and you weren’t here to ask.”

  I put the safety back on and sent the gun back to my armory. When my empty hand came out from behind my back, Jo-jo and Jorge relaxed. “What kind of snake?” I asked.

  “An asp,” Jo-jo said. “Itty-bitty thing, but strong poison. If not for being a demon, Megan would have died instantly.”

  “My boo-boo hurts,” Megan said. “Can I fall down now?”

  “Go ahead,” I told her.

  She toppled back and bounced on the couch. After a moment, her eyes closed, her head tilted, and she began to softly snore.

  “Go ahead and finish those bottles,” I told the boys, “but after the coronation, I’m going to inventory the bar. If more than three bottles are gone, you’re going to die drinking your own piss. Are we clear?”

  Jo-jo said, “Yes sir, boss. Very clear.”

  “Crystal,” Jorge said.

  I nodded and crossed to the front door. About to go out, I stopped. “Wait a second. A dangerous snake was delivered and the property’s protective wards didn’t activate?”

  “Uh, no,” Jorge said.

  I went back and ducked low to inspect the box. There was no card. I lifted the box and turned it over. A silver coin fell out onto the floor. I picked it up. There was an image on it, a fey queen with no face, as if it were lost in shadow. I activated my Dragon Sight tattoo. My skin felt like a thousand razors had just whisked across me. I looked down. No blood. The pain was just the price paid for the magic I’d quickened. Looking back at the coin, I now saw a stain of shadow on it. A little side tag indicated a high level of shadow magic.

  My inner dragon used my eyes to study the coin. Can I have that?

  The coin had defeated the house wards, getting the snake through. Finally, the Shadow Court was coming after me directly. I smiled with pleasure, thinking: Bring it you bastards.

  TWENTY-SIX

  “Feasting flies revere the

  dead, but it’s never mutual.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  Leaving my personal security detail to their drinking, I left the mansion and followed the walkway to Izumi’s place next door. Her door opened slightly as I got there, stopped by a stretch of chain. One of Angie’s new wolves peered out with slate green eyes. He was on the scrawny side, a hundred and sixty pounds, just under six feet. His hair was shaggy brown. He said, “Yeah?”

  “Open the door,” I said.

  He closed the door. I waited to hear the jingle of chain links as he took it off. Instead, I heard the sound of retreating footsteps. Listening through the door, I heard arguing voices. A moment later, the steps returned. The chain clinked and the door opened wide. Angie faced me in pink sweat clothes, her feet bare. She had a bruised look around the eyes. Signs of not sleeping made her look haggard. This was not the sharp, courtroom bombshell of an attorney I knew. I wondered how long it would take her to get back to being that person.

  She said, “I’m surprised you didn’t kick in the door and just stroll inside.”

  “Izumi would be mad, and if Josh is around, I’d be dealing with an angry liger. And then there’s Kat.”

  “They’re in the kitchen fixing food for everyone. Your friends from Sacramento are nice.”

  I stepped in and closed the door behind me. “I came to see how you were doing.”

  She plodded back to a red velvet couch that matched the wallpaper. The floor was hardwood with area rugs. A white polar bear rug stretched out by the fireplace. On the wall, above the fireplace mantle, was a gold framed portrait of Izumi in her Japanese snow-woman mode, pretending to be demon, and nor fey. I knew the truth now, but in the beginning, she’d fooled me with her fey glamour because I’d never had reason to use my Dragon Sight on her. Angie flopped down like an angel with clipped wings. I followed, sitting beside her as she crossed her legs under her.

  “What do you want me to say?” she asked. “That I was tortured and raped repeatedly in unspeakable ways because I was a coward, but I’m better now?”

  “That would be a good start,” I said. “It would show you’re aware of past realities, and are moving ahead in life to a better place.”

  She looked at me, her eyes full of shadows. “Fuck you.”

  “Sure, I’ll let you,” I said, “if that’s what it takes to fix you, so be careful what you ask for.”

  She broke the stare. That disappointed me. As the wolves’ new Alpha, she couldn’t be seen as a submissive, but that was her vibe. That very attitude would eventually force one of the other wolves to challenge her for leadership. The only reason it hadn’t happened yet was that most of her people were still learning what it meant to be wolves.

  I sighed. “Angie, you act like you’re not worth loving in a decent way. You’re acting like a victim who asked for abuse. I know that’s not who you are. You need to realize it, too.”

  “Or what? You’ll beat it into me?”

  “I’ll beat something into you.”

  She forgot self-pity. Her eyes flamed amber. She slapped at my face with the back of her hand. I caught her wrist, stopping her blow with dragon strength. If I’d been merely human, she’d have swatted my block aside and caved in the side of my face with her wolf strength. She struggled to pull free, then stopped. “Let me go.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or I’ll yell for help.”

  “Is that how an Alpha wolf handles herself, and defends her pack?” I reached out with my free hand and caressed the side of her face.

  She flinched away.

  I grabbed her shirt and jerked her up against me, pressing my lips against hers hungrily.

  She went limp, letting me do what I wanted.

  I let her go, stood up, and said, “Let me know when you’re fuckin’ ready to live again.” I turned my back on her and walked away, rounding the corner into a large kitchen where a bunch of wolves in human form, Kat, and Josh all pretended to be very busy with their work. A big, big man with blond hair, Josh was at the sink, rinsing off a pot of peeled potatoes. I went up to him.

  He slanted me a sharp look with tawny eyes. “Tough love, huh?”

  I said, “I don’t see everyone’s sympathy doing her any good.” I knew with her wolf’s hearing, she’d hear our conversation. “Besides, if I excuse her weakness, she’ll feel okay about excusing it herself, and her wolves will pay for that down the line. I wouldn’t bother, but I do have feelings for her.” Feelings of possession and lust, but feelings nonetheless. “When a wolf is hurt, it’s supposed to lick its wounds, heal up, and get back to being a wolf. I’m just trying to help her remember that.”

  Kat let the fridge door swing shut. She had an arm load of jars: mayo, mustard, ketchup, and pickles. She set them on a dining room table around which the wolves were gathered. One was slicing an onion. Another opened plastic wrapped paper plates and cups. Two more were smashing balls of ground meat into flat patties for hamburgers. I think the wolves would have preferred eating the meat raw, but didn’t quite dare.

  Their careful eyes followed Kat around like she was highly dangerous. They’d probably heard by now that she was Mistress of Sacramento. A pretty woman in her early twenties with dark hair gathered at the nape of her neck, she didn’t look formidable, but they weren’t taking any chances, especially when she commanded a big man who smelled like jungle cat.

  If Leona were here, she’d be all over Josh like a cat on catnip.

  Kat wore jeans slashed at both knee, dancing slippers, a teal blue tank top, and a narrow leather collar with a small, tinkling, silver bell
in front. Her nails sported aqua blue polish that matched her Siamese-cat eyes. She turned my way and stormed over like she was spoiling for a fight.

  Josh said one word. “Kat.”

  She stopped beside him, giving him a defiant glare, then switched it to me. She looked through me like my soul was on full display, and said, “You asked me to come and deal with this, so let me.”

  “Right, sorry, my mistake. Won’t happen again,” I lied.

  She didn’t look convinced.

  “I think I’d better go.” I turned and headed back the way I’d come. Stepping back into the living room with its Valentine Day décor, I found Angie between me and the door. I headed for the door. She didn’t step out of my way, but put a hand against my heart. I stopped.

  “Caine?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.” She leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips.

  I took advantage of the opportunity to squeeze her ass. “You’re welcome.”

  She pulled away and stepped aside.

  I went out the door without looking back. A few minutes later, I was back inside my mansion, heading for the door to Fairy. I found it open. Sarah and the were-kitties were manhandling a four-tier cake across the threshold. It looked like a wedding cake, but no bride and groom decorated the top. The girls got it through.

  I followed to Fairy and watched them sweep away toward the keep with their burden. Sarah looked back once with shadowed eyes. If there was a message in that glance, I missed it completely. The were-kitties supporting the monster cake rotated as they walked so, one by one, they all got a good look at me. Sexual heat sizzled in those glances.

  Can’t miss that message. Note to self: book an orgy with them at one of the hot springs when all this is over.

  I detoured across the garden to a throne-like chair with cushions, and took a seat. Relaxing my mind, clearing my thoughts, I looked through the overhanging leaves at a pure blue sky. No clouds. In this world, they’d only come when needed.

  It is good to be king.

  Just when I was about to return to the grind of events, the Old Man showed up. He gestured to a pool and the water rose up to become a liquid copy of my throne. Lauphram sat down on the water, letting it—and his magic—support him.