I’d been keeping an eye on my rearview mirror and side mirror. “Hey, girls, I think we’ve got a tail.”
They turned in the seats and looked back.
“Two news vans,” Leah said. “One of them has a satellite antennae on the roof.”
Damned paparazzi.
“Going to lose them?” Jada asked.
“No. The hub Station is spell-shielded from human perception. We’ll be able to go inside, but the reporters will get turned around and lost trying to follow us.”
Turn here, a few more blocks, my dragon said.
I already knew that. This close, I felt the loose magic, a kind of vibration in the bones.
We went a few more blocks and passed the Stratosphere Tower, a tower with a disk-shaped rotating restaurant on top. I had plans to try the food there, soon, but my actual destination wasn’t the hotel and casino, but The Fashionista Zone, a warehouse chain where the latest styles could be purchased by the filthy rich.
We parked in a massive parking lot and walked to the store, entering through a door that shimmered with golden energy. None of the humans were using it, or even able to see it. As we went through, we didn’t draw a single glance. I wished the news crew luck in finding us.
TWENTY-NINE
“What’s scarier than one
of me? Many, many more.”
—Caine Deathwalker
The building’s magical outer door took us into an altered space not unlike a bus station. There were seats, and big screen TVs running ads for the portal service, and advertisements for assorted vacation spots across the hell-dimensions and mystic realms. There were the usual customer lines, and irising gates like camera shutters into holding bays where scheduled dimensional shifts were performed.
So, okay, the travelers weren’t human; no comparison is perfect. I glanced past trolls, goblins, vampires, dragons in human form, and assorted beasties from alien hell-dimensions. Angels and elves had their own ways of coming and going; they weren’t represented.
My glance fell across Chrys’ sweet ass. I studied her long, sexy legs, down and up again. As if sensing my presence, she turned in her tight black dress to show me a trim tummy and delightful rack. I eventually got to her face. Next to her was her dad and brother. I didn’t see her mom. Chrys’ father had the square features and good looks of a Hollywood actor. As I led my security over, I smelled the distinctly metallic tang of Villager elemental magic, a flavor enhanced with just a hint of cyanide. His blue-and-tan Hawaiian shirt did little to hide large, dense muscles. He had short black hair, black eyes, and stood six feet. Not that I felt insecure.
Chrys’ brother Donner stared at me with cold, hating eyes of cobalt. I’d once kicked his ass and strangled him—last week actually. He obviously remembered. He had dark hair, like most Villagers, a gangly sixteen-year old in jean shorts and an aqua tee that matched his flip-flops. This bunch was doing its best to act like innocent tourists.
The father’s dark eyes scanned my bodyguards. One eyebrow lifted. “Expecting trouble, son?”
I stopped just out of reach. “Always, but lately, I’ve been tangling with some skin-walkers. Let me know if you see any.”
He smiled. “Interesting life you lead. I understand we’re going on a little trip.”
“While I acted appropriately in defense of my life against your dimension’s interference in my magnificent destiny, I still feel bad that you folks suffered financially as a side effect. I don’t want you for enemies, so I’m here to show you how to recoup your losses and prosper to an even greater degree than before.”
Damn. I sound like an infomercial.
Dimitur nodded. “Well, you’ve certainly got my attention. I suppose I can hold off killing you until I find out what you have in mind.”
I smiled. “Very enlightened of you.”
Donner’s hand hung at his side, a blue mist at his finger-tips. I sensed the gears of his mind weighing the consequences of shadow-forming a knife to stab me with.
Jada stepped up beside me, her hand inside her jacket, near her beloved Desert Eagle. Leah appeared on my other side. Her tits caught Donner’s teenage attention. He couldn’t look away, rendered helpless. Best body guards ever.
I said, “Donner, if you’re going to start trouble here, you’ll be pissing off the Magic-user’s Guild which runs this place. If you get banned, their portal service will never open for you again.”
Chrys turned and saw the magic mist in his hand. She frowned and slapped his shoulder with the back of a hand. “Behave. I’ve told you before, when it comes time for him to die, I get first dibs. We’re not officially broken up yet.”
Donner glared at her, but the blue mist faded out. “Fine.”
I said, “Come along. There’s a place you need to see.”
* * *
A world away, we left one of the Underground’s Hub stations and entered an upper-class shopping district. The granite buildings here were multi-story with glass windows. Street lamps hovered magically in the air, casting a silvery-blue light that frosted everything. The crowds were similar to those we’d left inside the Hub Station, but much nicer dressed with very expensive accessories.
Chrys hung on my arm, staring wide-eyed as we strolled past shop after shop. Even Donner lost his habitual scowl. Chrys’ father had his phone out, using it to take pictures for later reference.
“Welcome to Talon City,” I said. “A trans-dimensional shopping center that serves the needs of countless hell-dimensions, and alternate realities. Dragons come here, and gorgons, hippogriffs, and dwarves. You name it, you want it, someone is here selling it—making obscene amounts of money. That could be you guys.”
No one knew how big the city was since it doubled back to occupy extra-spatial dimensions. There were rumors of deeper levels, extensive catacombs filled with alien mummies and four-eyed dust bunnies with wicked claws and teeth.
The streets and most of the buildings were primitive, smooth granite and imported timber. And a great hollowed-out space hung high overhead. Beyond the cloying dark, a ceiling had been clawed out of even more frozen rock.
I felt no need for more of a sales pitch., letting the displayed goods in the windows do my talking for me. We went past a window where female, humanoid mannequins wore fur coats. Some were white. Some sable. Some were star fox green. Another window displayed feathered capes that might have been worn by old Hawaiian kings. Dimitur took several pictures there. The next window down had green animal women with dark hair and bouncy tits. They wore a minimal amount of clothing, or none at all. We had to physically drag Donner away from there.
“The gravity feels magically enhanced.” Chrys glanced into my face. “Where exactly are we, and how big is this place?”
“Europa, the sixth closest moon of Jupiter. The Underground is a reality connected to hundreds of others—the ultimate market.”
It was time to close the deal. I pointed diagonally across the street at a tavern. “Let’s continue this over tankards of mead.”
“Viking brew?” Dimitur put away his camera. “You are winning me over.”
We crossed the street and headed toward the tavern, but stopped short outside a jewelry store. The glass window was tinted red. Darker blood-script writing said: Red Moon Jewelries, designs by the goddess Selene. “This is one of my enterprises,” I claimed.
Chrys’ grip on my arm tightened. I could smell her sexual interest in me peaking to an all new high. “You own a jewelry store?”
“A whole chain of them actually.”
She spun to her father. “Daddy! Can we go in?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
There were wedding rings inside. This was taking a dangerous turn. “I sure am thirsty.”
Donner eyed me with suspicion, a tight smile on his face. “Something wrong? This really is your place, right?”
Selene’s place, but the same difference, really. “Fine. But let’s not take too long.”
I led the way inside through red-copper double d
oors. Inside, the place was as fancy as any Manhattan Jewelry store. There was crimson carpets, silver and glass display cases with the plunder of the ages, carefully stolen by Selene, or goods manufactured by her people. Between cases, I saw naked men, all short, with my hair color and build, some of them streaked with neon body paint. They were frozen in temporal stasis, clones made into mannequins. And they were all me, artfully arranged in happy frolicking postures, wearing earrings and watches, bangles, necklaces, and not much else.
I went closer to one, drawn by a horrified fascination. That version of me had a sexy smile in place, a look of lust on his face. He also had an erection frozen in time, a massive member used to support wristlets and armlets of gold and platinum, set with massive precious stones.
“Oh, my goddess!” Chrys choked out. “Are they alive?”
“Probably,” I said.
Selene and I need to talk. I never gave permission for this.
Donner said, “Okay, I was wrong. This place is totally you.”
Dimitur had his camera out, taking pictures. He shot me a glance. “Your approach to marketing is certainly interesting. I take it this city lacks government oversite and regulation?”
“That’s what makes it so successful,” I said. “When the free market is unshackled from the crushing burden of government, prosperity is unleashed. I curse the hell-dimension that first spawned taxes!”
A clerk came up and did a double-take on me. Her eyes got very wide. “My Lord Deathwalker, we received no word of your visit, or we would have arranged the appropriate honors.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. How many of our stores are using these, uh…?” I flicked fingers at one of my doubles.
“The replicants? All three thousand outlets. I must say, they have certainly boosted sales, though there have been issues.”
I lifted eyebrows at her.
She continued, pointing across the store to where an elderly matron in a black-and-gold saber-tooth skin jacket surreptitiously fondled one of my replicants.
I shuddered. I feel so used.
The clerk sighed. “Excuse me a moment. I need to go chastise her. This is the third time this week. Really, she knows better.”
I did some rough math. “About a dozen of me here. Multiplied by three thousand stores, that’s…”
“Thirty-six thousand,” Chrys said.
“A ready-made army with no maintenance fees.” While the thought made me queasy on one level, it was certainly an interesting asset.
Dimitur looked at me with narrow eyes. “I take your point, young man. Killing you would unleash a plague. That’s the point, right? The carrot is the business opportunity, the stick is what will happen if we kill you—thirty-six thousand copies will descend upon us in force. You are a skilled negotiator.”
Well, duh!
I noticed Chrys standing very close one of my replicants, her hand polishing the knob of my manhood. I glared. “Not you, too?”
She jerked her hand back. “What? It’s like free samples, right?”
“We’re not in a bordello,” I said, “or we’d be staying longer. I really need that drink now.” I headed for the door, my security right behind me. If Chrys and family wanted to follow, fine. If not… I shrugged to myself. There are times when a real man must insist on a pitcher or two of refreshment come what may. This was one of those times.
Outside, in the silver-blue light, we continued down the sidewalk toward the bar. I heard the door open again behind me and knew Chrys and family were following. Their steps echoed on the pavement. Chrys caught up, pushed in between Leah and me, and took hold of my arm again. Chrys whispered softly to me. “The next time we orgy, can you bring one of them along?”
“Why?” I whispered back. “I’m not enough for you?”
“Of course, but I’ve always wanted to be double penetrated, and this way, I wouldn’t be cheating on you.”
“Why don’t I bring two of me to your hotel room. You can get triple penetrated by the same guy.”
Her breathing quickened as she thought about it. “It would be a first!”
And I thought I was a freak.
I used my regular voice. “Just a couple drinks, then I’ve got to get back for the Old Man’s wedding.”
We went into the tavern. It looked like a place Vikings would hang out in, if they liked big screen TVs with the sports channel playing non-stop. The furniture lent itself toward a rustic vibe with massive oak tables, benches, and barmaids dressed as Valkyr sword maidens with steel-cup bras, chainmail bikini bottoms, and winged battle helms.
One guy pinched a passing ass.
The girl squealed, spun back around, and caved in his face with a punch.
Real Valkyrs.
We went up to the bar. I nodded at the bartender, a guy who could have been the Movie Thor if wasn’t a redhead. I threw a few silver coins on the bar, having come prepared. “Mead for everyone.” It didn’t matter what was stamped on the coin. The fact it was very pure silver did the trick. There were too many visitors from weird places for businesses to be too picky.
“Coming up,” Thor rasped, voice low and gravelly as he scooped up the money.
No one carded Donner. No one cared. In many Old-World cultures—and hell-dimensions—sixteen is old enough to rape and pillage, and raise a family. The drinks were served in horns of hammered tin, supported by little stands made from carved stag horn. Donner pulled his closer, peered in, and sniffed delicately. “What in Tartarus is this?”
“Fermented honey watered down with orange blossom water.” I could smell the fragrance. I picked up my horn and drained it swiftly. Sweet. “About twenty-five percent alcohol I’d say.”
Donner had about half his horn guzzled when he broke off, coughing. “Shit! Warn a guy first.”
I shook my head at him sadly. “How do you expect to rape and pillage with dignity if you can’t hold your booze?”
Just a lightweight barfly.
Dimitur swirled the mead in his cup thoughtfully. “Speaking of pillaging, how do we get plugged into this place? Can anyone just come and set up shop?”
I leaned into Chrys, whispering past her as my hand accidently groped her tit. “There is a Proscribed List of beings they prefer not doing business with. You guys are on that list, but everyone now thinks all Villagers are dimension-bound. Just don’t tell anyone, and I’ll get you in under the Red Moon Corporate umbrella.”
I pulled back, reaching for my drinking horn.
“What’s it going to cost us?” she asked.
“You, body and soul. Especially body.” I leered at her, reaching behind her to firmly grip her ass. “I assume you come with a very large dowry.”
“Done,” Dimitur said.
Chrys stared at him. “Hey! Don’t I get a say?”
He shrugged. “You’re already fornicating with him. What’s the big deal.”
I smiled. “My lawyer will be in touch, and since we are a demon clan, all signatures must be rendered in fresh blood.”
Donner frowned into his horn. He slurred, “I’m allll out.”
I waved a Valkyr over and pointed at Donner with a thumb. I said, “Kid’s a cherry-boy. Know any women that might want to deflower him?”
The Valkyr gave him a once-over stare. “He’s hot.”
Donner perked up. “I am?”
The barmaid said, “His first is on the house.”
Donner stared at me, trying to focus. “I completely forgive you for everything.”
The Valkyr scooped him off his stool and slung him over a shoulder. She called to the bartender. “I’m taking a break.”
The bartender waved her off.
I smiled into my next horn of mead. I have just made a friend for life.
THIRTY
“You can’t hate something you love to kill.”
—Caine Deathwalker
Making sure the Villagers knew how to get back to the Talon City Hub Station, and from there to Earth, I left them to study new
marketing opportunities. At the station, I paid fare for myself and my guards. We were herded through an iris, into a holding area for transfer. The usual assortment of paranormals surround me. None of them gave me a second look. The dimensional portal opened with a flash of greenish-blue light. There was a flutter of gravity, a wrenching, like we were torn down and rebuilt in half a second.
The metal iris opened on our bay. We went out into the Las Vegas Hub Station, back on Earth. Passing through the crowd, the girls and I headed for the street entrance. My inner dragon lifted his head in the back shadows of my mind. His eyes were golden stars. He sniffed, coils slithering as he searched.
What’s up? I asked.
I smell silver dragon.
Now he’d drawn my attention to the faint odor, so did I. Scanning the crowds, I saw a couple ahead of me, a male and female dressed in elegant human style, their dragon forms hidden. I hurried my step and their magic scent grew stronger. They exited the complex. I followed, to find them waiting for me out on the sidewalk. Jada and Leah stepped up beside me, ready for trouble—they thought. If these two dragons were to instantly transform, breathing deadly solar wind, the only thing that would keep us alive was my reacquired force barrier. Under my cloths, I formed a patch of shadow on my skin into the spell pattern for that barrier, drawing in a charge of golden magic to warm it up—in case it proved necessary. With dragons, you never know when violence will erupt, even just for the hell of it.
The silvers stood relaxed, peering at my face. The woman was silver of eye and hair, with a young face. Her dress was powder blue, off the shoulder, with sleeves that suddenly split open, flaring, becoming a ruffled fall from the elbows down. The dress’s bottom hem ended just above her knees. The man’s hair was silver-white as well. Sunglasses hid his eyes. He wore a deep blue suit and an electric blue tee, with white sneakers on his feet. Her look said: I have money and taste. His look screamed: I’m just dressing down to look cool.
Though they seemed in their late twenties, they could easily have been two centuries old. You never know with dragons since they can manipulate their human forms.
Moonstone Shifter (Demon Lord Book 8) Page 23
