Moonstone Shifter (Demon Lord Book 8)

by Morgan Blayde

  More guards were inside, and I saw some of our clan techs rigging TV cameras so events would be preserved for posterity. I wasn’t sure that last was really a good idea.

  Winter and Angie strolled along the tables, sniffing the empty seats. “Who needs bomb sniffing dogs when we’ve got werewolves?” Even in human form, their olfactory senses were phenomenal.

  Solstice, my favorite hippie witch, stood over in a corner, admiring the giant-headed hydrangeas. She had on a kind of peasant dress, all white and lacy. I guess no one had told her not to compete with the bride. Or maybe she’d be changing before the ceremony. There was still a lot of time. An older woman—mid-fifties, long gray hair, black dress with silver jewelry—stayed close to the magical teenager. I wondered if it was Solstice’s mom, or maybe another member of her coven.

  “Let’s go talk to them,” I said.

  “They will probably feel my power as a goddess and fall at my feet to offer devotion.”

  “Don’t witches serve Hecate, goddess of magic? Or is it Isis?”

  “A witch serves whatever power mercifully allows them to live. For now, that’s me.”

  “Good point. And if Hecate shows up?” I asked.

  Selene smiled. “Don’t worry, we have plenty of cake and ice cream. That’s my contribution to the wedding.”

  I stopped mid-stroll and stared at her. “You picked out the ice cream?”

  “Something wrong with that?”

  “Depends on what you picked.” I’d heard of blood sausage before. I hoped like hell no one had invented blood ice cream.”

  Selene narrowed her eyes at me. “There’s a thought, but no, it’s red-velvet. Hand churned by the prisoners in my dungeon.”

  “Is that sanitary?”

  She smiled suddenly. “I’m joking, but maybe we should let others sample it a while before we do.”

  “Good idea.” I started walking again.

  We reached the witches by the hydrangeas. Solstice Truth turned, saw me, and promptly slid behind her friend, as if avoiding certain death.

  Such a timid mouse.

  “Why, my dear Solstice, so good to see you. I can rest a lot easier now, with you here.”

  Her companion frowned at me. “And you would be?”

  I whispered loudly. “They didn’t tell you? I’m Caine Deathwalker, the Red Moon Demon, scourge of malefactors and ne’er-do-wells and such like.” I used a courtly, if floppy, hand gesture to indicate my companion. “And this is Selene, the Red Lady, Goddess of the Red Moon, and my sweet beloved.”

  “Goddess?” the older witch sniffed. “I’m sure you use the term loosely.”

  Damn, this is going to be fun.

  From one heartbeat to the next, a circle of carpet burning away, the floor underneath bowed and cracked, becoming a crater. A crimson light filled the space, defying the purple and white spots. The air filled with the sob of angels and the fresh, metallic tang of a blood mist. Gravity doubled, like we were riding ejection seats into heaven. A more complete aspect of Selene—one several times larger—settled over her like a mantle: her hair became crimson serpents, her eyes red stars in her head. Selene’s red gown dripped actual blood. Ozone burned my throat with every breath. Red lightning chased itself around her. Her wide smile and crossed arms challenged the universe to resist her.

  The cards of multiple realities shuffled, and just like that, the former Selene returned. The ballroom came back in all its former, pristine glory. The blood mist in the air cleared.

  The older witch staggered under the reweaving of her perceptions. Her breathing remained heavy as she stared around her. Solstice sat on the carpet, having fallen during the transition.

  She looked dumfounded. “What just happened?”

  Selene laughed quietly.

  “That was the advent of a goddess, to use the term loosely.”

  The older witch knelt, her movements shaky, slow. She put her forehead to the carpet. “Honor to whom honor is due, we beseech your pardon and indulgence with the dust of our lives.”

  Solstice stared at her companion, then scrambled to copy her posture.

  I looked at Selene. “You’ve got it so easy. None of my people ever grovel in fear. Must be nice.”

  She gently patted my arm. “One day, if you survive the transition to an omni-dimensional life form, you’ll get your perks, too.” Selene stared down at the witches. “We’re all friends here. You may stand in my presence. It is allowed.”

  The women helped each other up. I think ignorance buffered Solstice from being as afraid as she ought to be. The older witch still trembled, her eyes bright with fearful understanding.

  “Just so you know,” I said, “we’re going to post some time-space axis points in the corners of the room. They may put out a little magical static. Try not to let it bother you.”

  “Time-space what?” Solstice asked.

  “Pillars of Heaven, dear child.” Selene waved a hand and Solstice’s white dress—tinted purple by the lighting—became a murky shade of red. “White just isn’t your color, dear child.’

  “And red is?” I asked.

  Selene looked back to me. “If I could paint the world in blood, I would.” Her face stretched with an overly wide smile, her voice turning wistful. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  We chased away the witches and stood beside the nearby display of hydrangeas. Selene held her palms seven inches apart, fingers like claws, pointing at each other. It was like she held an invisible sphere. She peered into the caged space and a red light condensed there. The core was a brighter shade. She spoke and her words became mystic symbols etched on the crimson orb. Rings of brighter light spun within, spell circles in a Mobius strip loop, written into at least four dimensions, maybe five. I was sure there was more I wasn’t seeing.

  Satisfied, she lobbed the ball into the flowers where it was lost, except for a red-crystal pillar that speared up a moment, then sank down again out of sight.

  We walked the corners of the room, stopping at the other hydrangea displays to repeat the process. With the Pillars of Heaven in place, Selene kissed me on the cheek. “I must go to the Red Moon for a while and prepare there as well. Try to stay out of trouble until I can return to cheer you on.”

  “I can’t promise, but I’ll do my best.”

  She went in a whirl of wind and a burst of red star-points, leaving me in need of a drink.

  Actually, everything leaves me in need of a drink.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  “The first attack left me bored.

  I’d really hoped for more.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  I’d done my part for the coming events. No one needed me for hours yet. As I walked toward the lobby, I placed a call. The connection went through and Chrys’ sultry voice answered. “Caine? What the hell do you want?”

  ‘You. And your father. I know I’ve caused you some trouble. I’m going to fix it for you. Meet me for a drink and find out how.”

  “You’re serious? You want my father there, too?”

  “Bring your mom and little brother if they want to come, too. I’ve a got a new market for you that’s out of this world.” Literally.

  “Okay. Where?”

  “This city’s Hub Station. Meet me inside the main entrance.”

  “Okay, half an hour?”

  “I’m heading there now. I’ll see you when I do.” I ended the call and put my phone away, not into the illusionary pocket of the dark red tux I wore, but into a pouch on the battle harness I wore with all my invisible killing gear. I was beginning to think phantom clothing might save me a lot of inconvenience. Despite having shadow-magic spell tatts at my disposal, there’s just something about being massively over-armed that brings comfort to a demon lord.

  Passing through the lobby, I noticed I’d acquired a tail: Jada and Leah in their tailored, black bodyguard suits with dark glasses. Leah’s D-cup tits were a red flag, demanding attention, hindering her ability to simply blend in. Jada’s jacket bulged, doin
g nothing to hide the fact that she carried a massive gun in a shoulder holster. I thought they’d really have something if Hollywood were to give them their own TV show: The Demon Babes of Justice, hot as hell and twice as deadly.

  I’d watch it.

  Well, there was no reason to ditch my security, and watching my ass was their job.

  I’ll go ahead and let them earn their pay.

  I went out through the main doors, and walked toward the front parking.

  A swarm of media personnel with cameras came at me from the side. I guess some of them had actually done some research, or had been pointed my way by someone taking a bribe.

  I stopped.

  Leah and Jada reached me first. They put themselves between the pack and me.

  One of the microphone wielding news-babes yelled. “Mr. Walker, I understand the recent series of so-called serial attacks in your hotel are in preparation for a new TV series starting this fall. Don’t you think that’s going a bit far for free publicity?” A couple of the news sluts crowded closer.

  Jada used earth-magic to boost her strength, easily shoving them back. “Don’t crowd the boss,” she warned.

  I noticed that the male cameramen were having trouble keeping their cameras pointed at me. The lenses kept swiveling over to catch Leah’s impressive rack. She smiled and winked at them, creating an illusion that they actually had a chance of getting into her pants. She opened her coat, unbuttoned more cleavage, and additional cameras went to her.

  I yelled an answer. “Look, it’s not a TV series. It’s a new movie franchise,” I lied. “And the recent killings really had nothing to do with me. I’m as surprised as anyone. I’m just here for my father’s wedding which is today, and I’d appreciate it if you could not interfere with that.”

  The Old Man’s had this coming for years. He can just go suffer like the rest of the married guys out there, with his own ball and chain.

  “Have some humanity,” I cried. “Don’t ruin our big day.”

  “Is it true that dragon-shaped balloons were floated above the hotel yesterday?”

  What was I thinking? The media—displaying humanity? Not likely.

  More questions flew in. Voices snarled in the air, turning to gibberish. One reporter yelled louder. “Is it true your father wears blue body paint all the time? What is the significance of that? Is he Celtic? Or a fan of Brave Heart?”

  “Yes,” I lied, “and the light blue brings out the deeper blue of his tattoos quite well. He’s one of the ancient Greek Celtics, tracing his linage all the way back to Atlantis, the blood of heroes and kings.” And demons. “Look, I really have to go. Busy day, you know?”

  I angled away, aiming for my poor Mustang. It had taken much abuse since coming to Las Vegas, and I still needed to get the Artificial Intelligence back on line. And the advanced anti-theft system as well. I was just glad the car still ran.

  I slowed slightly as I saw someone waiting in my car. My eyes morphed, the DNA shifting more toward dragon than Villager. The image of the car exploded closer, the azure-haired woman in the front passenger seat surfaced in greater detail. It was like having a telescopic lens.

  Gemma. What does the were-cat want now? She’s got her son back, what’s left of him. And she knows we’re out of here after the wedding today. Ah, yes. Word will have gone out by now that I have the Eyes of Bastet. As the Voice of the goddess, she’ll want custody.

  Her face turned as I approached the door, reaching for the handle. My gaze dropped to her sweetly rounded 35C-cup breasts. Not as impactful as Leah’s tits, but a nice handful.

  My hand was batted away from the door by Jada. She held me back with a tight grip on my shoulder. “Not until we check it for bombs, and find out who the waiting bimbo is.”

  I wondered if Gemma would have been labeled a bimbo if Jada’s 29B-cups weren’t so underwhelming. I turned toward Jada and laid a friendly hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, you have nice tits, too.”

  Jada glared. “Idiot! For all you know, that’s the skin-walker in disguise. You need to stop thinking with your admittedly massive dick.”

  On my other side, Leah barred my way with an extended am. “She’s right. We don’t know who that really is. It could be the skin-walker, hitting you while you’re away from the hotel, an easy target.”

  “Fine. I’ll stand here while you check her out.’

  Jada stayed beside me. Leah rounded the back of the Mustang and came up on the passenger’s door. She knocked on the window and gestured for Gemma to come out.

  Gemma complied. The two women exchanged soft comments, then Gemma turned to look at me across the top of the car. “Prove I’m not a skin-walker? Are you serious? How am I supposed to do that?”

  I had a helpful idea. “Take off all your clothing and spin around while we look for zippers in your skin.”

  In reply, she held up a middle finger. “Look, I just want to talk to you about the rumors I’ve heard that you’ve got the Eyes of Bastet. If so, they’re mine. You need to turn them over to me.”

  I murmured to Jada. “Obviously a crazy person. What demon lord is going to hand over a treasure found fair and square. Hell, even if I’d stolen them, possession is ten-tenths of dragon law. That makes them mine by divine right.”

  “Absolutely,” Jada agreed.

  “Divine right?” Gemma screeched. “The Eyes are the property of Bastet. She’ll curse you!”

  “The medias coming over,” Jada warned. “They’re salivating.”

  “They smell a story. Shoot them if you need to.” I gave my attention back to Gemma. “I tell you what, if Bastet comes and begs for them back while bending over to take a load in her—”

  “Pig!” Gemma spat the word. “I knew I was wasting my time asking you to be honorable.”

  “Then why do it? Stupid or something?”

  “Not stupid enough to continue this conversation.” She stormed away.

  Leah and Jada used magical sunglasses to quickly scan my car for magical sabotage, also searching for a bomb. The media hit like a tsunami. We escaped into the vehicle, locking all doors. I started up the vehicle and we drove off.

  “Leah?”

  Her gardenias and lavender scent filled the car. She answered me from the back seat. “Yeah, boss?”

  “Gemma didn’t have her moonstone necklace on, did she?”

  “No. She didn’t.”

  Jada watched me from front passenger seat. “Is that important?”

  “It’s a valuable talisman with a great number of embedded spells in it. A formidable weapon. It stopped me cold the first time she used it on me. She’s more vulnerable without it. And she didn’t have it at the conference meeting when Cleo told her story.”

  “So, what does it mean?” Leah asked.

  I thought about how I’d originally lost my barrier tattoo because of developing golden dragon magic. Some magics are incompatible, and some are antagonistic. “It could mean you were right. That might have been the skin-walker, passing herself off as Gemma. The ancient Egyptian sorcery of the moonstone might screw with Native American witchcraft. It would be a good reason for the skin-walker to take Gemma off the board early in the game, eliminating a major threat.”

  “But you’re only guessing,” Jada said.

  “Right, but give Imari a call. Warn her of the possibility.”

  “I’ll do it,” Leah said. Maybe we can also have someone go and check out Gemma’s home. Know where she lives?”

  “No, but Colt does. Have him and Julia go do a little snooping before Gemma gets home.”

  Leah finger-punched her phone. “On it.”

  “So where are we going?” Jada asked.

  “The Hub Station.” I was letting my inner dragon guide my driving. His perceptions were like a GPS, locked onto the magical energies of the portal station. In the back of my mind, his eyes were gold stars.

  His thoughts brushed mine: A few miles north of downtown. I can guide you better once we’re closer.


  Fine.

  The Hub was controlled by the local Magic-user’s Guild. They raked in a lot of cash from tourists coming and going from other realities and altered spaces. The level of energy leaked by the location was known to throw off electro-magnetic and temporal vortexes every once and awhile.

  “We’re taking a trip?” Jada asked.

  “A fast jump to Europa, to Talon City.”

  “The Underground?” Jada’s voice spiked with excitement. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”

  “We’ll be talking clan business with Chrys and her family. They’re trapped on Earth and in risk of poverty with the Villager dimensions shut down. I’m going to secure them as allies by giving them back their financial empire.”

  “I didn’t think the Underground did business with Villagers. Aren’t they on the official Proscribed List?”

  “A minor technicality,” I said. “We’ll have Chrys list her corporate headquarters as a Red Moon subsidiary under Selene’s jewelry companies. No one looks too close at anything Selene is associated with. It’s not healthy.”

  I’d been hearing Leah in the back seat, mumbling into her phone. That stopped as she put it away. “Okay, I’ve touched base with Imari. She’s on top of things and will pass your message on to Colt. Kat and Joshua will be keeping an eye on Zahra.”

  Great, let’s see any skin-walker get the kid away from a were-liger.

  Leah said, “The First Sword says you’re to be careful, and not to be late for the wedding. You’re the Best Man, you know?”

  “That’s what all the ladies tell me.”

  Getting closer, my dragon said. I’ll tell you when to turn.