Crimson Sword Stalker

by Morgan Blayde

  Beg? But I’m a dragon. I have my pride!

  And she has a pussy between her legs. If you ever want to get in it in the future, you’ll do what I say, and suck it up, metaphorically speaking.

  Kain came over and handed the pad back to Selene. “So, you’re just using the intimacy of my feeding to get back at his dragon?”

  “Yes!” Selene said.

  Kain shrugged. “I’m fine with that. Perhaps your lesson might be driven home deeper if you grant me access to your femoral artery.” He illustrated his point by sliding a hand from Selene’s left hip, down to her left thigh. “When going for revenge, one must leave a truly lasting impression, searing it in the mind of the offender.”

  Way of the vampire, I thought.

  Selene caught his hand and held it still, just short of her inner thigh. “That is an interesting idea. One which calls for more privacy than we have out here. I am not an exhibitionist or a slut.”

  I felt my dragon trying to take over my voice. I fought him for control. The wrong word now might get both of us hurt—rather badly.

  He read my thoughts and subsided.

  Kain drew Selene off into his tiny bedroom. He turned to close the door and gave me a smile of conquest: happy to take something else from me.

  Asshole.

  My dragon said: He is, isn’t he? We need to teach them both a lesson. Go fuck Gloria. She secretly wants it. I smell her lust, like simmering cinnamon butter.

  You’re an asshole, too. I told him. All this is your fault. You couldn’t just wallow in misery at Selene’s feet when I told you too. Too much pride.

  My dragon said: You’re a man-whore. Go act like it.

  “I don’t want to take Gloria for revenge sex, so stop pushing me. She’s my best friend. When I plummet into her wet, silky depths, it will be because its right for both of us.” I’d taken the argument pubic, I mean public—words instead of thoughts.

  My dragon took over my throat to answer the same way, hoping to embarrass me—the idiot: “You were the one just squeezing her ass!”

  “Yeah, but I’m a man-whore, remember? I have to do certain things to live down to my reputation.”

  Gloria took the blood bag from the water, shook it off, and punctured it with a sharp pointy straw. She slurped, staring me in the eyes. “You ever use me for revenge sex, I will take a jumbo-sized dildo and hump your ass raw, without a lick of spit. You will walk funny for a year, and it will be that long before you ever see my bedroom again. Am I clear?” Her eyes were red stars, hiding her humanity.

  “Crystal,” I said. “But like I just got done saying. It’s one of the few lines I will not cross.”

  With you.

  “Fine.” She strolled up and seized me by the shirt, dragging me up against her. She kissed me. I tasted the blood on her lips and tongue. And grew hard. She said, “I’m entertaining the idea that I’ll be fucking you soon. But I need more time.” She let go and backed away.

  I looked down at myself. “You got my dick hard. Don’t you think you should take responsibility?”

  “I’m going to get into my armor and swords. While I do so, you may look, but not touch. As you’ve pointed out, we have little time before the enemy hits.”

  She stripped out of her gauzy nightgown. I watched and so did my dragon. I wondered if I’d corrupted him, inducing this interest in human anatomy. It felt weird; after all, I’d never seen a lady dragon—out of human form—that I wanted to poke. Claws, sharp teeth, bludgeoning tail, wing struts: they did nothing for me.

  Gloria padded naked to one of the love seats and lifted the top cushion to reveal a hidden compartment. She pulled out a crop-top chest plate that left her midriff exposed, flaunting the ruby nestled in her bellybutton. She dressed slow, knowing she gave me a hell of a show. Skirting made of metal plates went around her waist. She slipped into armored boots with shin guards and settled shoulder plates over her head. There were four-inch spikes on the shoulders.

  Tease! My dragon said.

  I corrected him. The correct term is cock-teasing bitch, if you want to be technical, and she certainly is.

  The door opened behind me. I turned as Selene and Kain coming out the bedroom door. Kain stayed close to her, hovering protectively. “Are you sure you’re all right? I stopped as soon as you swooned in orgasmic bliss.”

  The bastard! I wasn’t sure if that thought was entirely my own.

  “Kain,” I said. “One thing, Selene is carrying my child. You need to think of your blood-withdraw as a one-time event. If this threatens to become a regular, ah, affair, I will take steps. I know you command ghosts, but there are more shadows in the world than spirits. War would not be good for either of us.”

  He smiled. “How novel! I’m threatening myself.”

  “I will share any willing woman in my harem, but my family is off limits.”

  Selene stared at me, eyes opening wide.

  I met her gaze. “When he’s awake, torture my inner dragon all you want. Just remember, even man-whores have feelings, stunted and atrophied as they are. You’re going to give birth to Colt in a matter of months. I’m the one that gave him to you. You either want us to be a family or you don’t. If you don’t, I’ll let you explain it to Colt.”

  Selene strolled closer, leaving Kain. “You don’t often stand up to me.”

  “I love you too much not to, in my weak, man-whore way.”

  “So, you’re keeping your harem?”

  “I’m allowed a double standard, remember? Taking over the multiverse means political alliances, many sealed by marriage. It’s one of the costs of power. We both know this. Sure, I can promise to limit myself to official wives and one-night stands with strangers, but a scorpion must sting, and a man-whore must fuck. It is a terrible burden, but this allows me to bind powerful women to our cause, all of whom may be essential in preserving the cosmos.”

  Her eyes were mysterious, red-crystal pools holding no message I could read. I brushed the side of her face with the edge of my thumb. I let her look deep into my eyes: one dragon, the other Villager. One golden with a vertical pupil. The other black as my heart, with a red pupil.

  “I’ll make you one promise,” I said. “Neither of me will ever knowingly sleep with another dragon so long as you live.”

  Mission bells rang high in the sky, confirmation of a High King’s pledge.

  “Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll take what I can get—from man-whore and dragon. If you ever break that promise, well, there are certain experiments I’ve always wanted to try. Do you know—after rewiring someone’s brain—it ought to be possible for them to see with their skin?”

  “I’ll bear that in mind.”

  Yeah, I had to draw the short straw and wind up with the hot insane goddess.

  SEVENTEEN

  “Relentless, scorched-earth disaster can be fun.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  The sun beamed from below the horizon. A red haze lingered in the western sky as we left the Winnebago. Fine machine, but it could use a stronger engine, a few gun ports, and some missile launchers as well.

  While Gloria had armored herself, Kain just grabbed his broadsword, staying with his signature black suit and red tie. It was my signature look as well. I wondered if I went to purple camo, if he’d steal that look as well. I unbuttoned my coat to have easy access to my holstered PX4 storm semi-automatics and walked toward the cabins.

  Beside me, from one step to the next, Selene shifted from her fancy ballroom dress and heels to crimson chain mail, cuffed boots, and a surcoat of black with a full crimson moon on it.

  Dressed to kill in style.

  Ringo and the Pride filed from their cabin, walking toward the dock. From the next cabin over, I saw Craig, slayer-in-training, and Vivian emerging, Colt right behind them. Last, Osamu locked up, responsible even on the cusp of carnage. He carried his sheathed demon sword in hand.

  “Hey!” Selene said. “What happened to my little guy?”

  “Nine-
year-old Colt tag-teamed with his sixteen-year-old self. The story I got was that one of your future selves came up with an emergency mission he, Julia, and Zahra needed to handle.”

  Selene frowned. “I should have been informed,”

  “Are you concerned that you’re keeping secrets from yourself?”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  “If I were crazy, sure.”

  “I’m not crazy, just loosely wrapped and carefree.”

  “My mistake.”

  Our three groups came together, forming a loose ring, everyone staring inward to the empty center.

  I pointed as I named names. “Vivian, you, Colt and Craig take the powerboat out from the dock about a dozen feet. When the first wave of werejackals arrive, wave at them, yell, try to look tasty. Your job is to be bait. Once the dog-men commit to the water, going after you, Colt will call up the kraken. It should be good and hungry now.”

  They left to take up their position,

  “Ringo, go gator, get in the water, and stay away from the kraken. Follow the Eastern edge of the lake. You’re out early warning system. You see the jackals skirting the lake, coming our way, swim back at warp speed to let us know.”

  “On it.” He ran off, shedding clothes.

  “Gloria, Kain, Selene, Osamu, you’ll be our advance guard. Don’t over engage the enemy. Retreat while chopping them to pieces. Your job is to stall their momentum so the werecats can hit their flank, coming in from between the two cabins. The name of the game is attrition. I’m expecting werebears and New Orleans vamps crash the party. When they get here, we all duck out and let them finish things themselves.”

  “My vampires are coming here?” Kain said.

  I smiled at him. “Somehow, they got this wild idea that you were here at Cross Lake, pulling all the shifters under your banner so you could wipe out troublesome vamps.”

  “If I wanted them deader,” Kain said, “I’d take my sword in hand, go down there, and collect a few hundred heads.”

  “This gives you the chance to play the misunderstood hero,” I said. “Knowing of their danger from Anubis, you came here to save them, a father who’s always there for his wayward children. And what thanks do you get? They accuse you, of all people, of plotting their downfall. You’ll have the moral high ground for centuries and can rub their noses in their disloyalty. There shouldn’t be any trouble over Gloria’s ascension to your throne after that. They certainly won’t be able to dispute her right to her chosen consort. The engagement ball should go smoothly after this.”

  Kain stared at me. Then laughed. “Yes, I like it. A plan worthy of me, poor maligned vampire overlord that I am.” As he spoke, I noticed a half-dozen floating cameras overhead, waiting to get into the game.

  Kat said, “What about Anubis? Will he come out of the woodpile to take command?”

  “I hope so,” I said. “I ought to let him capture me.”

  Kain stared. “Are you insane? You want to put my souls in his cold, unclipped doggy paws like some chew toy? Why?”

  “Selene and I have a soul-tie. She can find me wherever he takes me.”

  I hope.

  “We need to hit to him where it hurts; his secret base. We can’t leave him a hole to crawl into. And I’m planning to steal my Mustang back. You guys can rush in to the rescue, and while he’s distracted from abusing me, I’ll spring my ultimate surprise on him.

  My death-powered reboot spell.

  “Don’t worry; he won’t kill me right off. He’ll want to break me first, to see me piss myself and beg for mercy. Gods—like vampires—have a bad habit of flaunting their power; it’s a compulsion.”

  Selene frowned, catching my gaze. “You wouldn’t be talking about me, would you?”

  “If the divine corsage fits, my luv. Everyone, to battle stations.” I led the way eastward, following the shore, and came to a third cabin. It too had a dock. The old granny I’d met earlier in the day was on her dock, in a lounge chair, eyeing the water. She had her shotgun in her lap, under a worn copy of Moby Dick. She eyed the water, looking for the kraken, muttering to herself: “To the last, I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart, I stab at thee; for hate’s sake, I spit my last breath at thee.” She sat up and turned on her seat as we approached. “Come to help me kill that sea monster?” she asked.

  “We’ve got a bigger problem,” I said. “A pack of wild zombie-dogs is coming. You’d better go in and let us handle this.”

  Dislodging the book, she wagged her shotgun in the air. “Not as long as I have this. Just let some damn dingoes mess with me!”

  “Fine,” I said. “Just watch where you’re shooting. I’m not fond of holes—under these conditions.”

  There was a rush from the water. Ringo stuck his head out—all snout, sharp teeth, and alligator eyes blazing yellow-green.

  Granny swung her shotgun toward him.

  He fell back in the water and sank.

  The gun boomed.

  Ringo hadn’t said anything, but I got his message.

  “Incoming.” I called. “Weapons ready!” A shadow tatt on my arm connected me to the ether, and my armory. I summoned my titanium sword to me, charging it. The blade blacked but gave off a golden aura of raw magic—an imitation of a demon sword—but unique to me. This was the sword my Villager family had recent given me. The Sword of Light lay in my distant Clan House armory. I’d left a piece of my soul in it so I could summon it but for now, I didn’t want Anubis sensing it and shying off. There would be a time and place for the Sword of Light—just not now.

  Kain eyed my titanium katana, comparing it to the broadsword he held. “Mine’s longer.”

  “Mine’s magic,”

  “Isn’t that cheating?” he asked

  “You mean like rolling someone’s mind with vampire mesmerism while you’re fighting them? And isn’t that a cursed sword you’re holding.” I eyed cryptic symbols running down its length.

  “Forget I mentioned it,” he said.

  Gloria had both short swords in her hands. She wove a rapid-fire pattern of alternating cuts. “Ready.”

  Osamu set hand o the hilt of his blade, ready to speed-draw as needed.

  Selene held out an empty hand and closed her fingers into a fist that suddenly held a red-wire wrapped hilt. A blade of red crystal jutted from the hilt. Red lightning danced along the surface. She grinned at me.

  I stared down the curve of the lake. A massive bunch of beast men loped closer, awkward because they weren’t fully human or jackal, but both. Anubis had sacrificed efficiency for the shock effect of his troops. Or maybe just for vanity’s sake. They looked like him this way.

  “Here they are.” I popped dragon wings from my back, using a half-phase that ruined shirt and coat, leaving them at my waist in tatters. My shoulder holsters were designed not to interfere with wing function. I drew a PX4 Storm, holding it in my left hand as I leaped into the air, taking point.

  Unwilling to be cheated of a full share of gory fun, Gloria and Kain surged below me at vampire speed. We hit the beastmen head on. My handgun fired, bucking in my grip as I emptied the magazine—all head shots to prevent resurrections. The ones without brains wouldn’t get up as zombies.

  I caught peripheral impressions from the others as I concentrated on my own kills. Though busy, it proved hard to miss a swath of red lightning gutting the werejackal army, blasting dozens of them into smoking chunks of blackened meat.

  My vampire friends screamed in battle rage as they danced in and slashed, loping off heads, kicking headless corpses out of their way. I saw Gloria leap and spin, kicking one severed head into the face of an oncoming werebeast.

  She’d make a fortune in a soccer league.

  The cursed nature of Kain’s sword became evident; every wound it inflicted, no matter how slight or deep, explosively spewed torrents of blood, draining the target, drenching the area with fresh blood. My crimson sword stalker was earning his keep tonight.

  One enterprising werejackal leaped
from the fallen body of a brother, onto the shoulders of another. From there, he vaulted up in the air to intercept me. I slashed downward and cleaved his head in two. A quick kick to his groin sent him falling back to the pile.

  Another red flash, another streak of red lightning, and a gap formed that was soon filled as more and more attackers kept coming.

  And why would they stop? They worship death. We’re giving them what they want, sending them into the arms of Anubis. Still, there’s got to be a limit to their numbers.

  I flapped harder and took myself higher, sending my gun back to my armory, where it would be magically reloaded. A quick thought caused a swirl of shadow on my right arm. Under the remnants of my clothing, the darkness, formed my bi-location spell. I warmed it with golden dragon magic. My spirit form slipped out of my body, taking half my awareness with it. I pulled my gun back from the armory. It filled my left hand. I took aim and squeezed off shot after shot.

  Meanwhile, my divided mind swooped away, checking the perimeter of the Marina. The edges of my spirit vision were blurred. Only my forward focus stayed clear. I drifted over a darkened church, to a side parking lot. Assorted vehicles were there. A group of naked, shaggy men gathered around Big Tom. Instead of a circle jerk, they unleashed their inner beasts and began the slow process of changing. Most of these were werebears, but I knew there would be a wolf or two, maybe an armadillo or opossum once the shifts were done. The bears would look shrimpy, having gained no mass. The other creatures, would be giant—for armadillo and opossum kind.

  These guys would need time to get into gear. I went on to look for the others. I found a fleet of approaching vehicles, headlights slashing the gloom. The vamps were arriving in limos and vans. But they headed toward the Marina Office. Apparently, they hadn’t done research to locate us before arriving.

  Sloppy. Well, the good news is they’ll find us fast. Stepping out of their air conditioning, they’ll hear the battle and smell the blood on the wind.

  I pulled my split mind back together, closing the distance in a lightning rush so both mental references fused into one battlefield view. No longer preoccupied, I spiraled lower. By then, I’d emptied my gun’s magazine time after time. I sheathed the heated weapon and put both hands on my sword hilt.