Moonstone Shifter (Demon Lord Book 8)

by Morgan Blayde

  “Caine? What’s wrong? Why are you looking at my private parts that way?”

  The horrible thought that came to me was that Izumi was dead, and her fey skin was being used by a skin-walker to get close to me. But her ice magic on the Indians had been real. Her oral technique on my cock had been familiar. Years of practice by Izumi couldn’t so easily be duplicated by an imposter, could it? And wouldn’t a skin-walker fake still have functional lady parts. Such an impersonation should have been perfect down to smell, taste, and texture.

  “Caine, you’re scaring me.”

  The tremble of fear in her voice sounded real. Of course, many things mimic human emotion quite convincingly. Even if this wasn’t a skin-walker, it could still be some other kind of supernatural imposter. A doppelganger or fetch. Except this version of Izumi was anything but spectral.

  Some kind of fey neuter with a strong glamour to feed me impressions? But then it would feed me the illusion of a vagina too, right?

  “Damn it, Caine! Put my ass down. I’ve had enough of this.”

  She didn’t wait for me to obey. A white mist wrapped around her. The air temperature went down past zero. Savage winds full of icy grit plucked Izumi out of my grasp, pulling her off to the side. Thick layers of frost sheathed her, clothing her. She settled on her feet, glaring at me.

  I said, “Love, before you get vindictive, I need you to do something simple for me.”

  “What?” Her question hung in the air between us, cold, brittle, like a tree branch about to snap under the weight of snow.

  “Reach between your legs with a finger, then tell me where your vagina went to.”

  “What!”

  “Just do it. Really, I’m not joking.”

  The intentness of my voice broke through her confusion. Without a word, she did as I asked. Pieces of ice fell and splattered the ground. Her eyes grew huge. Her mouth opened. Her tits heaved with excited breath. “W-what? Gaia’s holy womb—this isn’t possible!”

  “Next,” I said, “search your memories. See if there are empty gaps, memories that ought to be there, that are gone—as if you might not really be who you think you are.”

  The more I thought about it; she was like a skin-walker in a new identity that had lost herself too well in that role, deceiving even herself. The old lore suggested that walkers who’d lived too long in other skins—who jumped gender lines and species lines too radically—became unstable this way.

  I’d hate to kill her as an enemy, then find out it really was Izumi, a victim of some freakish mutation or magical attack, but then again, I didn’t want to die of stupidity. If this Izumi was just a good actress, an enemy, I wasn’t going to let her kill me. In the middle of my back where Izumi couldn’t see, I shaped shadow into the tatt pattern for my magical forcefield. I ignited the area with golden dragon magic, activating the spell, but keeping the power down to a ghost of itself—ready at any second to be dialed up high.

  “Caine, it’s me. I know it’s me. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  “That’s what a skin-walker, dark fey, or chameleon-demon would tell me—right before attacking.”

  Izumi stamped her foot. “It’s me, I tell you.”

  “Prove it, or go hump an Indian-sicle.”

  Before Izumi could answer, a harsh, crimson light filled the space between us. My human eyes morphed, becoming dragon eyes that lowered an extra, translucent eyelid to filter some of the glare. The light thinned and Selene, my Red Lady stood there in a filmy red nighty that clung to her goddess curves in adoration. Her back was to me, giving me wonderful view of her white, round ass. My flagging cock returned to urgent life, standing up at full attention.

  He said: Finally, something to fuck!

  Selene used a stern voice, speaking to Izumi. “There you are. Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused me, running off like that? Come back to your fetal tank.”

  Izumi stared. “What? Selene? You did this to me? Why? I thought we were friends, sorta.”

  Selene sighed. “Oh, how sad. You still think you’re real. Stop fussing and come along.” Her voice shivered the air with power. Pebbles and larger rocks lifted themselves off the ground, ready to follow wherever she led.

  “Selene,” I said, “what’s going on?”

  “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, my love. This is just a magical clone. A future Izumi will need some spare parts so she doesn’t die. I’m doing what I have to.”

  “I’m…spare parts…?” Izumi’s face hardened. The imperial fey lifted her head in pride. Her eyes glowed with silver-blue ice magic. “I refuse to believe it. You’re lying for some twisted reason of your own!”

  Selene sighed. “Fine, we’ll do it the hard way. You weren’t developing right anyway.”

  I reeled back as a blizzard collided with red lightning. There was an explosion like the world ending. I was thrown backwards off my feet. My force barrier flared up to high, a swirling shell of red light glazing the air around me. I hit and rolled within my ball of light, the world whirling around me as I rattled in my barrier.

  Miles away, I stopped, having wound around a number of hills, and having jumped a wash or two, breaking the backs of many a bush and shrub.

  It wasn’t a ride I’d have paid for.

  TWENTY

  “We future ghosts have

  expiration dates written in blood.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  Angie and Winter found me first. Actually, they were on me so fast, I wasn’t sure that they hadn’t been chasing my bouncing ball across the desert. Not that they’d admit to the equivalent of chasing a car like common dogs. The wolves circled, sniffed at the shimmering red shell. Angie lifted a paw and tapped as I sat on my naked ass. My erection long gone, I stared at her, wishing I had my clothes.

  Okay, enough of his.

  I shut down the pattern on my back and the protective spell collapsed. I stood and walked past Angie and Winter. They leaped after me, saying nothing—because wolves don’t talk—but I caught side stares that made me think they were silently laughing at me.

  “Just take me to Colt. It will be daybreak soon. I want to know if there’s been any improvement in the situation.”

  They moved in front of me, choosing the best path, guiding me where I wanted to go. Fortunately, my thicker skin saved wear and tear on my feet. And my heating spell was still on, turned low so it didn’t waste too much of my magic. I felt comfortable when an average person would be shivering from the night winds.

  We strolled past Selene, finding her around the bend of a small hill. Her red nighty looked even shorter than before. Her nipples stood out, pressing against the fine weave. The wind rippled her crimson hair. The red pumps on her feet somehow didn’t slow her any on the rough terrain. She stalked up to me, passing between my wolves, turned, and took my arm. We walked side by side.

  “Hello, beloved. Miss me?”

  I always gave the safe answers to such questions. “Always and forever. So, what happened to Izumi?”

  “Like I told you, that was just a magical clone grown from some of her tissues.”

  “I’m not sure I approve. Are there clones of the rest of my harem? What about me? Is there a spare Caine in your bedroom closet that you turn to when the real me isn’t available?”

  She stopped, forcing me to stop.

  The wolves stopped and turned to watch us, waiting. Probably enjoying the soap opera we provided.

  Selene smiled, her red lipstick glossy and ever fresh. “Are you actually jealous of the thought of yourself in my bed?”

  I glared at her. “I want to know there’s a hell of a good reason for violating people’s genetic privacy. You said something about spare parts?” I pointed at Angie. “Do you have copies of her growing in a vat?”

  “In a vat, no? Listen, there’s a good reason for this program. I can’t tell you about it because it will compromise hard decisions you all will have to make, but trust me, a few years from now you will be glad
I took these steps.”

  Angie stared at Selene. The she-wolf looked ticked.

  I pointed at Angie. “Tell it to her. She’s probably going to file suit. It’s what lawyers do.”

  Selene smiled. “Good luck serving papers on the Red Moon.”

  Angie growled deep in her throat.

  Yeah, definitely pissed.

  Selene sighed, still staring at Angie. “Look, I ran it by you and the others first. I have written permissions on file. I’ll show you later, if you want. You consented. Do you really want to know what terrible thing is coming that made this necessary?”

  Angie seemed to think about it a moment, then turned and continued on, Winter a step behind.

  Selene and I followed. I said, “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt on this one.”

  “Terribly gracious of you,” Selene said. “So, have you enjoyed bonding with our son?”

  “Actually, yes. I never wanted to be a father. Until I became one.”

  “Like to have a few more?”

  “I have this whole business of the Eyes of Bastet to wrap up so we can get back to the future. I’d like to focus on getting the Old Man married off, and bringing down the skin-walking bitch I’m hunting. After that….” I trailed off, making no actual promise a goddess could hold me to.

  “Fine, my love. Just don’t forget, a woman has needs.”

  “Izumi reckons you’ve had your turn there and that she’s entitled to the next kid. I can’t say she doesn’t have a point.”

  “I’m insanely powerful and a goddess. Niceties like social rules don’t apply.”

  “I think we’ve established that many times. Hey, how about helping me out with some clothes and shoes?”

  “Sure.”

  From one step to the next, I went from naked to wearing a midnight-red tuxedo and dress shoes. “Kind of over doing it for the desert, don’t you think?”

  “A woman likes to her see her man looking his best.”

  I used my free hand to feel my lower face. The beard that had roughened my face was magically shaved away. “Thanks.”

  “Any time, my love.”

  We went on across the desert, slipping past sage and brush. The moon glazed the cruel landscape with a gentle light. The Spanish dagger—with its bristling war bonnet of sword-shaped fronds on top, and shaggy column underneath—each looked like an Indian ghost haunting the night.

  “You murdered Izumi’s clone, didn’t you?”

  “She didn’t want to come along quietly, and I am such a giving person. She found the death she wanted in her heart. I am merciful that way.”

  “So, you just hope for better luck from the next clone.”

  “Why does it bother you? They don’t have souls. It’s all right to abuse them.”

  “Izumi’s been a friend for a lot of years. Even if I know that wasn’t her, she was real enough, too real for comfort. What about the frozen Indians. I suppose you took their bodies for scientific purposes.”

  “Why, no. They weren’t supposed to die. I respect time, to a small extent. I thawed them out and restarted their vital functions. The quick-frozen nature of their deaths made resuscitation rather easy. I expect they’ll meekly go back to the reservation and tell their people of how the Red Star Kachina woman came to save them from Winter Woman’s white death. I am the heroine of love and justice, you know? Just ask Colt. He’ll tell you.”

  “Really? Well if anyone counts as a magical girl, it’s you.”

  We found our way to the standing stones where the little girl had her nest in the yucca and thorny brush. The wolves stopped short of Colt’s fire, lying down to rest, watching everything as predators do.

  As Selene and I ambled closer, a mood for silence set in. We studied our sleeping son. He lay on an air mattress covered with a blanket, another couple blankets on top of him. His head shared the pillow with the little girl who no longer hid. Protective in sleep, Colt spooned with her, sharing warmth and human comfort. One of his hands lay over the girl’s side. In her sleep, she held it against her heart. There was nothing sexual about the pose, just two kids asleep, sharing dreams.

  I’ll be damned. The power of love and friendship. Maybe there’s something to that after all.

  Colt’s face lay exposed to the night. He looked innocent, in need of protection, until his eyelids cracked open. A red-copper light burned across his irises. He’d sensed us in his sleep, and was checking us out. Reassured that we were only his parents, he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

  The little girl looked foreign, with dusky skin. Her long black hair appeared to be middle eastern. About six years old, she wore a simple homespun dress. I saw no sign of any artifact that might have been the Eyes of Bastet. However, to my dragon’s sense of smell, she had the scent of Gemma’s people: were-cat.

  I looked over at the rocks and brush, wondering if she’d left the relic hidden in there.

  As if reading my thoughts, Selene shook her head, No.

  What do you know that I don’t.

  The quick smile that answered my thought suggested she might have a very long list if I really wanted an answer. She tossed her head the opposite directing, moving that way, drawing me along. We walked back to his fire. It burned low. There were a few sticks of dead wood left by the fire. I sat down and tossed them into the flames. Selene joined me. We watched the fire dance, forming shapes that lived, died, and were reborn in moments.

  The wolves never looked at the fire. They knew better than to destroy their night-vision while on watch. My dragon eyes had filtering lenses that prevented such problems.

  Selene gestured and an iron grill materialized over the fire. An old-time coffee pot settled there, along with an iron frying pan. She whispered, “Want to see my domestic side? Colt loves my chopped hot dogs and scrambled eggs. Feta cheese and spinach are my secret ingredients. You have to let the hotdogs actually blacken a little in the pan to get the best flavor.”

  Groaning inwardly, I smiled. “Can’t wait.”

  A bottle of cold beer materialized in my hand. I twisted off the cap and guzzled. Good. I lowered the bottle and whispered. “Thanks.”

  We sat there, waiting for the graying sky to give way to actual daylight. Every now and then, Winter or Angie would trot up and drop some scraps of wood at my feet for the fire, to build it up for cooking. They clearly expected a good breakfast.

  I whispered to Angie. “You like hot dog scramble better than fresh-blooded rabbit? And you call yourself a wolf.”

  She huffed at me and trotted back to the edge of camp.

  I threw a few more sticks on the fire as the peace of the morning soaked in. Soon, the false dawn gave way to the pale blue of the morning sky. Gold fanned up from the horizon. The sun lagged, but couldn’t hide forever. I looked back to the fire and saw the skillet had moved over the top of the highest flames. Butter had come from somewhere, a chunk of it melting, sliding in the pan. Off to the side, a plastic chest had also appeared. The lid stood upright. Selene pulled out a carton of Southwestern Style Egg-Whip and set it aside as she dug for more ingredients.

  I said, “I can’t remember the last time you cooked for me.”

  “There are things we all need to do as a young family. These are Colt’s formative years.”

  “Ah.”

  She looked at me. “Orange juice?”

  “Is there vodka in it?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll pass.”

  She soon had thin-sliced hot dogs sizzling in the pan. She flipped them when ready, sprinkled in dry spinach leaves, and poured egg batter in after that. At some point, paper plates were simply there on the ground, ready for us. She had an omelet going. When one side was done, she flipped and chopped it with a spatula into scrambled egg chunks. Taking feta cheese out of a small plastic tub, she sprinkled it last over the mess.

  The world awoke. Mourning doves lamented: Phuu-hoo hoo-hoo. Distant quail went: Whit-whurt-whurt.

  Selene called ove
r to our son. “Colt, bring your little friend over to the fire for some breakfast, please.”

  There was a stirring in the blankets. Colt murmured. The girl shoved up, violently entangled in a blanket. Colt made soothing sounds, holding her until she calmed down. They stared into each other’s eyes, as if words weren’t necessary any more. He smiled, kissed her forehead, and shed his own blanket, rolling away from her.

  He crawled, hands and knees, to the fire and took a plate offered by his mom. There was a plastic fork on it, too. Plate in hand, he returned on three limbs to the blankets, setting the food down in front of the girl. He lay on his side watching.

  The girl watched him back, eyes wary as she sniffed at the plate. Occasionally, her gaze flicked past him, to Selene and me at the fire, where we ate our own food.

  Colt’s hand slid into his front hoodie pocket and came out with a cold glass of milk. He drank a little and offered the rest to the wide-eyed girl who—with her tangled hair and dirt on her face—looked like a feral child. She took the glass from his hand, sipped, then drank deeply. She handed it back to Colt, a third of the milk left in the bottom. Using two dainty fingers, she picked up a piece of hot dog that had a clot of scrambled egg attached. She nibbled, then ate the food with quick relish, giving her full attention to the plate.

  “Does she have a name?” Selene asked.

  “Zahra,” Colt said. “When she says it, I get a mental image of a blue water lily.”

  “Oh!” Selene made a happy sound. “How sweet.”

  Angie came up behind me and nudged me in the back with her muzzle. She gave an unhappy whine.

  I held my hand out to Selene. “Hotdogs, please.”

  She handed them to me. I turned in place and fed half to Angie and half to Winter. Mouths full, they retreated once more. I think they were doing their best not to freak out Zahra. As a were-kitten, her sharp nose would already have detected the wolves. In fact, as I turned back toward her, the girl’s once-dark eyes were carefully watching the retreating wolves. A moon-glow of power shone in those eyes.