Moonstone Shifter (Demon Lord Book 8)

by Morgan Blayde

  I nodded. “We have a twelve-o’clock meeting in hotel conference room A. Don’t let me be late.”

  “Gotcha.” Zeph grinned, guileless eyes the color of a cerulean summer sky. He was out of uniform without a black suit and sunglasses. His white linen suit with the open collar made him look much cooler. I sensed no magic disguise; this was his true appearance. I wanted to ask him if he was sure he was a demon, but refrained.

  He used a key card to let me in.

  Izumi’s voice sounded from around the corner, from the bedroom door. “Caine, is that you?”

  The hallway door closed behind me. I answered. “Yes, my little snow bunny.”

  “Can you come in here?”

  She had sex—and kids—on the brain. I knew why she was calling me into a room with a bed. Well, I did have an hour… I walked to the doorway and stood on the threshold, staring in. She lay naked on the bed. Loosely tied red scarves on her wrists were anchored by ice daggers to the white, padded headboard. She’d obviously done this to herself, offering herself up as a tasty morsel.

  “Caine, I’m a little tied up right now. If someone wanted to come and ravish me, there’s no way I could stop them.”

  Yeah, right. With little effort, she could freeze solid anything in the room that looked cross-eyed at her.

  I was about to go into the bedroom when my phone played a Taylor Swift ringtone: “Cause, baby, now we got bad…blood…”

  “Don’t answer that!” Izumi yelled.

  “Sorry, got to. It’s Vivian. She’s been missing in action and I need to make sure she’s okay.”

  “Make it fast then.”

  I took out my phone and opened the connection. “Vivian? Are you all right? Where are you?”

  “I can’t talk long. I’m on a new job. I’m just back in the human world to grab some gear. I’m going to be out of touch for a while.”

  “Where? Tell me that much.” If she went missing again, I needed to know where to start searching.”

  “Don’t blow my cover if you see me on the Dragon World. I’m working for Kur, your grandfather.”

  That made a kind of sense. Her last job had been with the Silver Dragon Clansmen that had allied themselves with my evil Villager half-brother whom I finally killed. “Okay. Anything else you need from me?”

  “No, that’s it.” The connection died abruptly. Vivian had never been big on small talk. I put my phone away.

  The hallway door opened without warning. Imari walked in, closing the door behind her. “Caine, we need to talk.”

  “Can it wait? I have a situation to attend to.”

  “That’s for damn sure,” Izumi muttered from the bed.

  Imari stopped just short of the living room furniture. She wiggled a summoning finger. “Now, Caine.”

  I sighed and walked over. “What?”

  “Security is in place for your noon meeting. I also have armored backup squirrelled away in case your charm fails and things go south.”

  “Smart, but you could have called to tell me that much.”

  “I also wanted to go into that business with the Villager Chrys.”

  “I think she’s over her mad, for now.”

  “If she’d killed you, there would have been problems.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “For the good of the clan, I need you to do two things.” Her eyes were red coals. Orange flames swirled across her ebony scalp. She held up a finger. “First, secure the line of succession. Have Colt formally recognized before the demon clan as your successor.”

  I shrugged. “Sure. No big deal. What else?”

  “For you, this may be near impossible, but I’m going to ask anyway.”

  Izumi’s frosty tones stabbed from the bedroom. “Caine, I’m waiting!”

  “This is going to make Izumi happy, too,” Imari said. “I need you to stop sleeping with people outside the clan, that aren’t in your harem. You’ve got enough recreational partners without bringing dangerous women like Chrys around. Concentrate on what you’ve got.”

  Izumi’s voice came from the bedroom again. “Preach it, sister!”

  I jerked a thumb over my shoulder, toward the bedroom door. “Uh, speaking of what I’ve got, I really ought to…”

  A knock sounded from the hallway door. It opened and Gypsum stuck his big stone block of a head in. He used a gravelly voice that boomed. “Caine, there’s a guy out here that says he needs to talk to you. Police.”

  My First Sword sighed, and banished the fire from her bald head to better pass for human. “What have you done now that I don’t know about?”

  I widened my eyes in surprise. “Nothing, honest.”

  “Nothing honest is right.” Imari turned toward the hallway door. She called out, “Let him in.”

  The door opened wider. A man in a well-made suit walked in. The hang of the material couldn’t completely conceal the presence of a gun in a shoulder holster. His hair was dark blond, like gold coins lying in a shadowy crypt. His white, feral smile was as disturbing as his amber-lit eyes and youthful face—his werewolf nature near the surface.

  I smiled a welcome. “Det. Winter. What can I do for you?”

  He came in and closed the door behind him. His stare went to Imari. His nostrils widened slightly as he used his inner wolf’s heightened sense of smell to place her as a demon. “It’s personal. I wonder if I can have a moment with you, alone.”

  “Caine…?” There was uncertainty in Imari’s tone. As the one responsible for my protection, I knew she wanted to stay.

  “Detective Winter is a friend. It’s all right, Imari. You can go.”

  She ignored my suggestion, going toward the bedroom door. “I’ll just step in here until you’re done, Caine. If you need me for anything, just yell.”

  This was her way of providing backup whether I wanted it or not. Some people can be so stubborn. “Fine,” I said. “I’ve got something in there that needs warming up. Why don’t you start without me?”

  “Fine.” There was triumph in her voice as she thought I was finally getting sensible. I watched her go to the door. She stood there looking in, then glared back at me. “Really? You always have to have one ready to go?”

  I shrugged.

  She went in, leaving the door open a crack behind her. I had no doubt she was right behind the door, ready to rush out to my defense should danger erupt.

  I turned back to Det. Winter. “You were saying?”

  “After the wedding, Angie wants me to come to L.A. and join her pack.”

  “So? It sounds like a good deal.”

  “That depends on where you stand with her. I don’t share my women.”

  “If Angie wants to be exclusive with you, I’m fine with that. But she’s the best lawyer I’ve ever had. She stays on retainer to handle my legal business—as do you; I can use a trained detective who can deal with the dark side, someone who won’t easily die.”

  Det. Winter gave me a single nod of affirmation. “I can live with that. As of today, I am no longer with the Vegas Police”

  I held out my hand. “Welcome to the Deathwalker corporate family.”

  “I’ll want stock options and paid vacation. And I don’t work nights of the full moon.”

  Our hands meshed with manly grips.

  “Fine. I’ve always believed in paying for quality.”

  Izumi’s icy shriek exploded from the other room. “Caine, come and fuck me!”

  Winter shook his head sadly, but a mischievous light gleamed in his eyes. “Sucks being you.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  NINE

  “No one ever tells a cat not to play with food.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  Despite the Men-in-Black style demon guards stationed near the door and outside in the hall, the conference room looked mellow, decorated in mild Southwestern earth tones. The carpet was a dull taupe. A long, cherry table with a cocoa stain finish dominated the center of the room. There was an abundance of bl
ack-leather office chairs. A coffee mess stood against a wall, right behind me. Another wall held a pull-down screen for presentations. We wouldn’t need that.

  My cousin Kinsey and my uncle Drake sat together, middle of the table, watching the door. At one table’s end, the Old Man sat next to me. He managed to loom even while sitting down. Really, with so much height, you’d think he could magically donate some to me. I’d asked him about that when, as a teen, I realized I’d stopped growing and would always be under-tall.

  He’d refused. Selfish bastard.

  His bald head was blue like the rest of him. Under his two-thousand dollar, aqua-blue, Italian suit his body was muscle on top of muscle, covered in mystic brands and ancient Atlantean tattoos. Hopefully, things would go well and he wouldn’t need to unleash any of his combat magic.

  Between him and Kinsey, the three were-kitties sat, holding hands, hunching forward as if expecting violence at any moment. From sheer nervousness, their cat ears and tails had popped into view. It didn’t help them that Kinsey kept a hand on the basket-hilt rapier at her side. She was obviously displeased my girls were so near the Old Man. This possessive side of her was new.

  As far as violence, I was more concerned she’d stab me than anyone else. We seldom got along. She wore her blade in a leather sheath, connected to her belt with silver chains. Her belt buckle, also silver, was set with a great, dark-red garnet. Her boots were ankle-high, black like her pants. Her top was aquamarine. I thought maybe she’d coordinated with the Old Man.

  Seeing me looking at her, she shifted her antique-gold stare away with a toss of her head that sent a wave through her golden hair. Everything about her screamed: I’m too good for the company I keep.

  I grinned, thinking of how much fun I’d have introducing her to others as my new Mommy.

  Drake wore his usual charcoal suit. I think he had one for every day of the week. This one was set off by an open pale lavender shirt, no tie. His eyes were the same golden jewel tone as those of the rest of the Imperial dragon family. His clean-shaven face showed only lines of mild aging. His short, bristly, iron gray hair gave him a martial feel that wasn’t far from the truth, though he could well-act the diplomat when needed. His skills in that area were one of the reasons I’d asked him here. That Kinsey would come as well, dragging the Old Man along, surprised me.

  The door opened and Zero-T entered in his chocolate brown suit with the gold pinstripes. The hat he’d worn this morning was gone. His silver-and-blue scaled demon face hid as always behind a magic ceramic-mask that had the magical flexibility of real flesh. With their heightened sense of smell, Gemma and her people were not going to buy the human appearance. But then, they already knew what we were.

  I looked at my watch. They still had a few minutes before they’d be technically late. Maybe Gemma, Queen of the Cats, thought it fashionable to be last to arrive.

  Kat and Josh were late, too. They were the last of our party and the ones I expected to carry the most weight with Gemma today. The door opened and Kat came in, still in her trademark black leggings and over-sized pastel pink top. Her black hair had been lowered, no longer in a pony-tail. She’d made herself slightly unready for combat to send a message of peaceful intentions. Smart. Of course, with the ever-huge Josh beside her, she knew no one was stupid enough to go for her. Even if he didn’t smell of lion and tiger, his seamed, leathery face bore an expression of dangerous confidence that said: Don’t-piss-me-off. They took the other end of the table, sitting, holding hands.

  I knew why Imari wasn’t here. She’d be meeting Gemma in the lobby to guide her here, while getting a read on her and her people. I expected Gemma to come with a sizable entourage. Our security had already informed us that a half-dozen toms had infiltrated from several entrances, and were wandering around the hotel and ground floor shops, ready if called in by Gemma.

  It was expected. She ran the Southwest prides. That job required not only strength, but intelligence.

  My phone played Imari’s ringtone. “Yeah?” I answered.

  “Gemma is out front with six of her people—and Colt. We’ll be there soon.” She cut the connection.

  I put my phone away. “Show time, people. Let’s all smile and act friendly until given a reason not to be.”

  The Old Man leaned into me, using a soft voice. “By the way, where’s my grandson? I haven’t seen Colt in a while.”

  I arched an eyebrow at him. “You’ve been playing house, remember. You stuck Imari with him.” I didn’t bother to mention I’d given him away to Gemma for the night. Why burden people with knowledge they’d only criticize you over?

  The old man flushed a deeper shade of blue. “We had things we needed to work out. An adversarial marriage just isn’t worth it. I’d kill the dragon emperor myself before I’d let him force us into such a situation.”

  Kinsey’s expression went into high-alarm mode as she heard that. Her face shifted into thoughtful consideration. The Old Man was the demon that had sunk Atlantis. He was that old. And powerful. And had been increasing his power all these ages. If anyone could stand up to Kur—and kick his ass—my money was on the Old Man.

  Soon, the door swung inward, admitting Colt. His face brightened seeing me and the Old Man. He ran over, still wearing his skull-fronted hoodie. His dark hair looked like he’d finger-combed it this morning. His red-copper eyes were bright, like his smile. “Hey, Dad, Grandpa, we went to Pancake Villa for breakfast. I had blueberry pancakes.” He hugged me, tight. I returned the gesture without thinking about it, having gotten used to having a son from the future, a son who wasn’t yet born. He went on to hung his grandpa. Then Kinsey. “Hi, Grandma.” He climbed into her lap and made himself comfortable.

  Kinsey went red-faced. Her eyes were wide with panic.

  I smiled at her discomfort, but felt an inward amazement. “Colt, you mean she and the Old Man are still together nine years from now?”

  He looked back at me, puzzled. “Sure, why not?”

  Kinsey stared daggers at me. “Yeah, why not?”

  “No reason.”

  I looked away from her, my gaze drawn to the group that slowly filed in past our guards. It was Gemma, the two were-cat guards I’d met yesterday, and two more men. Through the open door, I saw she’d left two of her people out in the hallway. Gemma wore a lapis lazuli and silver necklace over a black pants suit. Silver ankhs dangled from her ears. None of her people appeared to be armed, but my inner dragon’s sense of magic spiked big time. She and her people were packing potent magical charms. She led her four guards to the open side of the table, taking seats opposite Kinsey, Colt, and Uncle Drake. Her guys sniffed, mouths parted as if tasting the air for additional information.

  Imari came in and stood with our demon guards, just inside the door. I stood. The Old Man stayed seated, signaling it was all my show. I stared at Gemma and her people. “No matter what is decided, you came in peace, you will be allowed to leave without interference from my people. I give you the word of a hub lord.”

  Gemma flowed gracefully to her feet and offered me a slight bow. “I, of course, value the promise of a demon lord.”

  Colt glared at her. “Gemma, my dad wouldn’t lie to you.”

  I had to be honest. “Yes, I would, but I’m not doing so now. You belong to my son. I won’t touch what is his.”

  Colt shot me a pleased look.

  One of the were-cat males made a disparaging sound.

  Colt’s smile died. He looked at the were-cat guard. “If you weren’t under the flag of truce, you’d be feeding your soul to my demon sword for that insult.”

  The Old Man whispered to me. “He carries himself well.”

  I nodded. The future me must be doing something right.

  Gemma looked at Colt. “My apology for any offense we’ve given. You have my full faith.”

  He brightened again. “Yeah? Well, fine. We’ll let it go.”

  I looked at my were-kitties. “Cleo?”

  She stood. Dani an
d Teri joined her. They angled toward Gemma and bowed their heads in submission, not meeting her eyes. Cleo said, “Queen Gemma, Voice of Bastet, leader of the clans, we greet you with respect and ask your forbearance as we abide for a time in your shadow.”

  Gemma studied them. “Well said. I receive you in my presence, and offer you a place among your own kind.”

  The were-kitties exchanged glances. Teri said, “We are honored, but enjoy the place we have here, among friends.”

  The male that had made the ugly sound earlier jumped to his feet. “Your place is with us. You will come with us.”

  I looked at Gemma and lifted an eyebrow. “I thought you were in charge.”

  “I am. My son forgets himself.” She gave him a cold-eyed stare.

  He reddened in the face, clenching his teeth as he sat down at once.

  Gemma looked at the were-kitties. “I can see why you might be uncomfortable since you don’t know us. My offer remains open. Come and go, get to know us better. Perhaps later you will reconsider. Cleo, my people will no longer bother you or your family. I force no one’s oath from them.”

  Sitting back down, Teri and Dani visibly relaxed. Cleo sat as well, but her hands stayed clenched in her lap, her face angled down at the tabletop. Something was still very wrong with her, but this wasn’t the moment to go into it.

  Gemma sat. “I will ask that you identify the rogues that turned you into shifters. If it was against your wills, it is a capital offense.”

  Teri cleared her throat. “Dani and I were born in L.A. and have lived there all our lives. We were turned by the same rogue tom. He used to keep us caged, and enjoyed brutalizing us, until a slayer found us and saved us, killing him. As a woman, the slayer…”

  “Vivian,” Dani said.

  “…had compassion and didn’t kill us as well,” Teri said.

  Vivian saved them? And this is the first I’m hearing of it…?

  “So, justice has been served.” Gemma looked at Cleo. “And what about your attacker?”