Magic winds lifted air demons to points of attack.
One demon’s white skin grew an overcoat of purple ivy. Whip-like tendrils grew from her palms. She snapped the lashes to intimidate the cats.
Izumi held a broadsword made of white ice, looking more than ready to kill something. She doubtless remembered nearly getting scalped.
Julia stood on top of a tabletop, having kicked over an unlit candle in a glass jar. She had a pair of .22 revolvers in her hands, taking aim at a big orange monster cat. Colt stayed near her, still in human form, red-copper lightning wreathing his hands, skittering up and down his body.
Further away from the cats, Angie and Winter had ripped off their clothing and were taking the time to shape-shift. It would be a few minutes before their wolves were free of human form and ready to attack.
We actually had more than enough firepower for this little bit of trouble. The cats hadn’t come in near sufficient numbers to take us all out. This was supposed to be a smash, grab, and haul ass operation with Zahra the grand prize. Only Gemma showed signs of wanting to continue the operation. But then, the skin-walker thought her cover was still intact. She thought we’d hold back. Her stare swept past bride and groom, to the two silver dragon clansmen on the small stage, then past Selene and me. Her evaluating stare stopped on Kat and Josh, and the young girl between them in her cute, pink flower girl dress. Gemma’s nostrils flared. She smiled, her sense of smell identifying Zahra’s were-cat nature.
Gemma’s voice rang out. “We come to demand the return of a child stolen from our people. As the Voice of Bastet, and in her name, I demand justice.” Gemma pointed at Zahra. “The Eyes of Bastet belong with the Voice of Bastet. In the name of the goddess, no one has the right to interfere.”
While she talked, I’d removed the cuprite stud from my ear, putting it in a pocket. This caused the midnight-red illusion of a tux to fade off me, revealing the combat suit, harnesses, and many weapons I wore. As I stalked toward Gemma, I filled in a number of shadow tatts on my body, under the clinging material of the suit. I charged the symbols with a low-level wash of golden dragon energy to have them ready to fire at will.
“You talk about your rights when you crash a private party? You are on the Red Moon of the Goddess Selene, your goddess has no rights here, and neither do you.”
“Caine!” It was Kat’s voice.
I looked over at the were-cat who was Mistress of Sacramento. She knelt beside Zahra. The child looked panic-driven, speaking in her native tongue something I didn’t understand, then buried her face against Kat’s dress, hiding. The area had grown quiet without losing tension, curiosity crackled in the air.
“Colt,” I said, “translate.”
He ran over to me. “She says that is not the True Voice. She is a bag of bones and a contagion. Something like that, anyway.”
From the flare of her eyes, I saw the skin-walker knew her deception was up, at least where Zahra was concerned. The skin-walker doubled down, “You have played games with the child’s mind so she doesn’t want to be with her own kind. Have you no shame?”
Angry growls rumbled from Gemma’s were-cat forces. Though in cat form, the pride understood the words of their leader. I admired the idiot pride’s loyalty.
We’re going to have to show them what’s under Gemma’s skin—or just go ahead and kill them all. That would delight Selene, but would waste a resource I wanted.
“Kat?”
She looked at me warily. “Yeah?”
“You want to keep the kid in your Sacramento pride, right?”
“I think Josh and I are a better fit than you and Cleo.”
“Once before, you were willing to challenge Gemma under were-cat law. Are you willing to do it now for the child?”
She stood and cast a questioning glance at Joshua. He wasn’t able to answer, having completed his change from human to were-liger. The great, monstrous beast shrugged off the last of his tattered clothes and made a sort of coughing grunt back at his mate.
Kat smiled warmly. “I can always depend on you.” Her stare shot to Gemma. “In the name of Bastet, by the ancient laws of our kind, by fang and claw, I challenge to be The Voice.”
Selene was suddenly on me, pressing against my side, her arm linked in mine. “What fun! We’re going to have a little mortal combat with our cake and ice cream.”
I noticed that Cousin Kinsey was cutting cake with the Old Man’s hovering approval, and dozens of Selene’s iron gargoyles had invaded the area, and were handing out saucers with cake slices and ice cream. One of them brought me a plate with a fork. I took the offering.
Ah, what the hell, why not?
“What the hell?” the skin-walker said.
As I held my plate, Selene sampled the cake and ice cream. She made a yummy sound, lips pressed shut, her eyes rolling in her head. As the plates went around, a more festive air set in. The gargoyles even set dishes down in front of the cats and wolves who carefully sniffed.
The skin-walker recovered her emotional balance, her coldly confident smile suggesting she could handle any reverse of fortunes. Her voice snapped out. “Since I am the challenged party, I demand the right to set the rules.”
Trying to give herself an advantage? No matter what, she has to fight as Gemma, or she forfeits the support of the were-cats. They’ll know she’s a fraud.
“What do you have in mind?” I stared at the skin-walker, and moved my plate away from Selene so there’d be some left for me.
“My cake!” Selene gasped.
“Focus,” I said.
The skin-walker pointed at the were-liger. “A champion is not allowed. The contest should be between two who claim to be The Voice.” Gemma stared at Kat. “Are you afraid you can’t stand up to me?”
Josh padded a few steps toward Gemma, teeth bared. He obviously didn’t like the idea of Kat fighting on her own. Kat caught him, holding him fast, dislodging Zahra who stumbled and fell. Hitting hard, she whimpered. Tears looked imminent. Then Colt was there, scooping her up, holding her secure. Zahra quieted, wrapping her arms around his neck.
My gaze caught motion off to the side, Julia standing on her tabletop, her revolvers extended. I wasn’t sure if she was going to blast Zahra or Gemma. Maybe both. I felt relief when both muzzles swung to cover the skin-walker.
I pulled my arm free from Selene and held up a hand. “Julia, no. I’ll let you know when, and who.”
I could just take this fake Gemma out right now, but that would mean an immediate fight to the death with her misguided people. I hate wasting resources that way. It offends he dragon half of my soul. I decided she’d die easily enough after being unmasked. I wanted her people to see her for the fake she was.
Julia lowered her guns and didn’t look happy about it.
Getting between Josh and Gemma, Kat said, “I’m not afraid of you.”
The skin-walker said, “Good. Then to decide the matter, I challenge you to a run.”
Kat blinked. “A run?”
Gemma pointed past Selene’s throne, at the black forest of thorns. You and I will go out there a few miles. A signal will be given. First one back here claims the child, and the title of Voice, with Bastet’s blessing.”
Ah, away from sight, Gemma can use her other forms and not get caught by her pride. She might even have a scrap of the sloth skin on her to use. What a cunning bitch.
“I don’t like off-camera action,” Selene said. “I like watching fighting up close. Death should never happen at a distance.”
“Excuse me.” It was Talla, her companion a step behind her, the scroll tucked under his arm. “Is this insanity going to continue long? We have official duties to return to. Emperor Kur will be expecting a report.”
“Emperor Kur can kiss my rosy ass,” I said.
Talla sighed deeply, but subsided.
Selene said, “Ah, the hell with it.” She vanished, a blur of red that streaked past Gemma. The details happened too fast to see, but Selene stood well
past the skin-walker, holding her loose, flappy skin in red-nailed hands. She waved Gemma’s empty skin at the were-cats, then dropped it on the floor.
All eyes went to the skin-walker who swayed in shock, revealed in her true form for the first time. Selene had literally snatched her stolen skin right off her. The witch was pretty in an aging way, faint lines around her eyes and mouth. Her skin glowed golden, contrasting glossy black, braids. She wore black lip-stick, and little else except for strips of skin tied around arms and thighs.
Gemma’s pride padded toward her, growling. They could smell the witch for what she was now, and they knew she’d killed their leader. The need for a blood price burned in their eyes.
The witch had no chance—except, one of those strips of skin tied on her was silver scaled, maybe from one of the dragon’s I’d killed earlier in the week. The witch touched the skin, death magic clothed her in the body of the silver dragon that had destroyed my Mustang earlier that day. Swelling many times her size, and still growing, she roared, burning plasma dribbling from her jaws as she beat wings furiously and lashed her tail. Filling out even more, she rose into the air, spiraling as we watched, streaking toward the distant mass of black thorns.
Selene stamped her foot. “Didn’t I say no off-screen violence?”
The missing wall to the box we were in dropped from high above, cutting off our view of the forest, preventing the witch’s escape. She didn’t abandon the attempt, veering sharply upward in the hope that open sky lay somewhere above in the high darkness.
The iron gargoyles screeched like rusty hinges, flapped their metal wings, and went after the silver dragon, pissing themselves freely in the joy of the chase. I didn’t think much of the skin-walker’s chances. Having a dragon’s body and being skilled in its use were different things. A dragon’s fighting heart meant much.
I looked up the sheer, ornate walls surrounding us, past the fancy windows, to the higher darkness. “By the way, Selene, is there open sky up there?”
Selene frowned at me. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Talla and Dhirrusses muttered to themselves, then turned to me. “Since the silver dragon that attacked your human city earlier was actually a human magic-user, we expect all complaints in the matter against our clan to be dropped.”
I glowered at them. “I’m sure, when I start looking, I’ll find other reasons to kill you off.”
Talla smiled coldly, tauntingly. “Perhaps. In any case, we have had more than enough of your hospitality. Please send us home.”
“Fine. You’re not very fun anyway.” Selene gestured and the four Pillars of Heaven protruding from the hydrangeas vented their crystal screams. Red light shimmered around them, building.
She’s taking the ballroom back where it came from.
Except the witch chose that moment to fall out of the sky in her silver dragon body, the iron gargoyles clinging to her like acid-pissing leeches. With a thu-whump! she impaled herself on a pillar. Screeching, she spewed yellow-white solar fire everywhere.
I dropped my cake. The saucer broke into multiple pieces.
Oh, fuck! I was going to eat that.
THIRTY-FOUR
“A strong man will always stand
atop a mountain of skulls.”
—Caine Deathwalker
Three of the Pillars of Heaven fired in synchronization, slashing us with crystal screams, bathing us in their bloody light. Buried halfway inside the skin-walker, the fourth pillar gave out a stutter of vibration. Its base exploded. The dragon’s hard scales deflected red crystal fragments, her body dulling the blast. The occupants in the room threw themselves flat to stay under burning clouds plasma that slowly whipped across the room.
I stood staring down at my fallen cake, sighing softly with regret.
Selene patted my arm. “Don’t worry, dear, there’s plenty more.” She went to get me a piece.
The solar fire slowed, absorbed by the crimson light of the three remaining pillars. Gravity wavered, cutting in and out. The floor tilted one way then another, becoming a carnival ride. The wolves and were-cats slid into tables, each other, and assorted guests. Some of the demon clansmen reached the edge of the floor. Red walls of force became visible between pillars, keeping them from tumbling out into inter-dimensional void. The red wall corner near the broken pillar fluttered in weakness, but held. For now, it looked like we’d survive to face the threats of some random reality.
My inner dragon shook his head sadly. You’re assuming we get somewhere. We might never emerge, one pillar sort as we are.
There you go, being negative. How is that helping?
I bent my knees and balanced, riding out the agitations like a surfer threading the tube of a wave. My years growing up on the Malibu beach had done much to prepare me for this day. That and my general philosophy of never sweating the small stuff.
Selene walked normally, as if the room weren’t wobbling across countless, nameless dimensions. She looked back once, as if to make sure I was watching her ass, which I was. She smiled.
The Old Man stood near the big wedding cake, holding Cousin Kinsey in his massive arms. He stayed pretty much in place, anchored by tentacles of shadow magic that grew out of his back.
Neat trick.
He’d lived too many centuries, facing down too many threats, to be thrown by something like this. Screaming and panicking was for lesser folk.
For some reason, none of the tables were sliding anywhere, or the chairs. I knew they weren’t bolted down. I simply assumed that they stayed because Selene didn’t want more of a mess; having enough chaos to content her. The Old Man took a plate from her and smiled down at his bride as he fed her a bite.
Somehow, the photographer found them, flashing his camera. “Smile,” she told the Old Man. “My wedding pictures are going to be normal if nothing else is.”
Acting like all this was to be expected at a demon-clan celebration, Kinsey nibbled the cake from his blue fingers, then licked off bits of icing.
I’m going to get sick if this continues much longer.
The red light dimmed as the crystal screams sank into the excited murmurings of the crowd. The ballroom’s wobble flattened out. The carpeted floor lay upon a flinty plain of slate gray rock splotched with green-white lichen. There were gritty, concave towers piled up that reminded me of the cooling towers at nuclear power plants, but more organic. I saw black-shelled beetles with white elk antlers trudging along, circling the towers. The insects were the size of military tanks.
Overhead, a low, tarnish-green sky with roiling dun clouds gave the scene a claustrophobic feel. A floating island of gray rock drifted in defiance of gravity just below the clouds, it’s top capped with violet and green jungle. White pterodactyls swooped in and out of caves in the sides of the island, far enough away to pose little threat. For now. I was a little concerned that a few of these looked like they had spy-cams strapped on.
My inner dragon said: I wouldn’t mind eating one of those. Bet they taste like chicken.
I turned to survey the other directions. There were more concave towers, rockier expanses, and ambling beetles engaging a giant red centipede that had a saddle and a half-armored woman with a sword riding it.
And up a hill, a fortress of rock squatted with corner towers and torchlight in various chiseled-out windows. I assumed Red-Centipede Rider had come from there.
Well, she’s on her own. I have enough problems of my own.
Colt said, “Cool! Where are we?”
“Not Oz,” I said.
He stared at me. “Oz?”
“Never mind. Other side of the rainbow.”
The were-cats said nothing, having completed their changes into cat form. Demons were grabbing chairs, getting comfortable while waiting for me to fix this mess. Climbing out from under a table, the two silver dragon officials picked themselves up and came toward me.
Selene arrived first with my replacement cake. I took it and escorted her toward the crumpled skin-walker.
Making sure she was dead or helpless had first priority.
Talla called after me. “Caine, where are you going?”
I didn’t answer. That would have wasted my time. She had eyes; she’d soon see the answer to her question.
Selene let me get in a couple of bites of sugary sweetness, then went back to stealing off my plate.
“Why didn’t you just get your own?” I asked.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Speaking of fun, do you know where we are, and how we’re going to get back home?”
She shrugged. “It will work out somehow, I suppose.”
Everyone cleared out of our way, some of them falling in line, following us over to the corner of the room where the silver dragon sprawled. Her clawed fingers twitched. Her breath was a sulfurous hiss. Plasma drool seeped from her jaws. The slobber set fire to a section of carpet under her head.
I handed my plate to Selene. “Here, go wild.” And kicked the dragon in the scaly snout. “Hey, you stay in that form, you’ll die. Turn back to human and we’ll give you medical treatment.”
Before we skin you alive and see how you like it.
The silver dragon’s lids parted, opening. A silver iris with a black stripe of a pupil stared. She blinked, and those eyes went dark, becoming cavernous spaces. In human form, the witch crawled out one of the eye holes. The entire dragon began to deflate and flatten like a punctured air bag. I didn’t injure my brain by trying to figure out why there was more skin left over now than the witch had started with.
Magic will always defy rationality. That’s what it is, what it does.
The witch skidded down the deflating dragon head. I caught her and pulled her clear, settling her on the carpet a few yards away. Now in human form, a few of Gemma’s cat people padded up, undisturbed by their nakedness. One of them carried Gemma’s discarded human skin. He said, “Give the witch to us. She will pay for this.”
Moonstone Shifter (Demon Lord Book 8) Page 26
