I fell backwards, my left ankle gripped tightly, held up in the air. The wolf shifted forward, jaws cranking open, bearing white fangs. He used the stub of his right wrist, trying to scrape away the legging of my night suit to expose the underlying flesh.
I tried to warm the tat that controlled my Dragon Flame, but pain didn’t come, the magic didn’t answer. Sarah was chanting again, the texture of her words indicated a different class of magic being used. She was damping out Old Man’s magic, and mine too.
I placed an exploding round in William’s left wrist, amputating his other hand, while using my free leg to drive a heel into his groin. He bent at the waist, a savage growl vibrating his throat as he drooled. I drove a second kick in, but he twisted his hips, and my kick slid off his thigh. Splattered with his blood, my left leg dropped free. I rolled heel-over-head, gaining distance.
Belatedly, it occurred to me that the zombie had felt pain. Zombies aren’t supposed to feel pain. That meant he was something else. If only my magic-enhanced senses weren’t back to human levels...
The sound of splintering wood pulled my attention to Old Man. Holding a ripped off table leg, he clubbed at Sarah as she retreated. My attention snapped back to William as his head caught another stray round and became a crimson cloud, bone fragments flying everywhere. That had to have been Salem’s Desert Eagle, using large-bore .50 rounds. Packing in twice as much gunpowder makes a bullet fly faster, doing more damage, but sometimes the gun can blow up in your hand, and the stronger recoil can break your wrist if you’re not careful. Another drawback is that you’re slowed down by having to re-aim after every shot.
The reanimation spell Sarah had used lost its grip on William now he was headless. He went limp, dropping to his knees, then to his chest.
“You owe me one,” Salem yelled from across the room.
“In your dreams,” I said. “You know that was just an accident.”
I heard police sirens wailing closer to the mission. Time was running out. I hoped the slayers and new wolves outside would keep the cops off my back until I was done down here. I also hoped my car was all right. Parking it at the edge of a battle zone might have been less than clever. My insurance doesn’t cover werewolves.
The table, missing a leg, still stood between Sarah and me, but not for long. Old Man swung the wooden leg in a blur, a killer storm driving Sarah before him. In a moment, she’d be rounding the head of the table, coming into the open. Not that I was going to wait for that.
I pointed both guns at her.
And went down as Angie and Leona, still locked in furious combat, barreled into the back of my legs. I fell on them and bounced off onto the floor as they rolled on and smashed through a remaining table leg. The table came down on them. They scrambled out from under it and reengaged. Sprawled on the floor, I turned over to get my feet under me. My gaze slid to Haruka, still tied to the table. Her kimono was loose, one nicely formed breast exposed to view. Her head lolled to the side, eyes opened wide.
“Help me!” she cried.
“Working on it,” I said.
Old Man no longer swung his club. He’d stopped moving, peering down at his feet in puzzlement. I saw the problem. The wooden floor had been stimulated with earth magic by Sarah. The boards sprouted roots that writhed up Old Man’s legs, coiling like pythons, pushing out twigs that bristled with tiny oak leaves.
Old Man sighed. “Always something.” He dropped the table leg, using both hands to bend the roots, ripping chunks of them away with demonic strength.
Sarah turned her back on him, running to help the succubus who exuded an air of rampant sexuality that raced my pulse from across the room, but had no effect on the warlock. One-handed, with great relish, he slowly choked the succubus. Her arms hung uselessly at her side. Both looked broken. One had splinters of protruding bone.
She looked ready to sweat blood.
“Sorry,” Salem said, “I’m not into women. Too bad you’re not an incubus.”
She managed to gasp, “Please…”
He said, “You were supposed to wait your turn, and not get in my way. All of us agreed...”
I took a look at her boobs, trying to imagine them from a high, downward angle. Yeah, they were familiar. The succubus is the woman from the dream Gray showed me. That meant that there were more enemies waiting in the wings. Nothing was going to end here. I needed to tell Old Man about this. But for now…
On my feet again, I snapped off a shot, sending an explosive round for Sarah’s head. My shot hit her protective shield, deflected as easily as Old Man’s lightning had been. I figured the short swords strapped to my back would be equally useless. I needed a weapon she couldn’t neutralize, one able to carve through her barrier. I holstered my guns and ran at her, calling my demon blade once more. In its sheath, the katana materialized in my right hand.
Salem took a second to help me out, sending several .50 rounds sizzling in to grind against her shield. The rounds didn’t get through, but Sarah flinched from them.
This let me close the distance, drawing the blade, slashing at the back of her neck. Her shield struggled with my blade. It was like hacking into over-cooked calamari … with a butter knife. I poured my strength into the effort.
The howling of the sword filled my mind as it strained with me, thirsting for blood and another soul. An aura of dark red mist wreathed the demon blade. Obsidian flames danced along the steel, gripping it in places like dragon claws. Once more, the thin shell of Sarah’s barrier shifted into visible light, a haze of electric blue that tinted the sword’s red aura into violet. The barrier began to indent under the sword, deforming as the blade progressed by inches. Its hurricane shriek in my thoughts gave me a headache.
“Is that really necessary?” I asked. The howl didn’t abate. Long used to pain, I focused through it, my teeth clenched, a growl on my lips.
Sarah faced me now, her necklace in hand, click-clacking into a rounded diamond shape. A haze of red surrounded her. The necklace sprouted black flame as it copied my sword’s aura, fighting hellfire with hellfire.
Old Man appeared at my side, Haruka hanging on his arm. His gaze locked onto the necklace. “Break off! It’s a soul-sink. Your sword’s about to—”
The shield went down and Sarah caught my descending blade with the mechanism on her necklace, risking her fingers. Necklace and katana touched. A blinding flash and deafening boom of thunder erupted. A concussive wave picked me off my feet and threw me backwards. I hit the floor skidding.
And the piercing howl in my head dwindled into an eerie silence.
TWENTY-FIVE
“I understand what you want, it’s
just that I am prepared not to care.”
—Caine Deathwalker
I held my katana in both hands. The steel was as strong as ever, but the sword had been broken, no, that wasn’t quite right. The sword had been eaten alive. The souls it had feasted on and its own demonic soul had drained into Sarah’s necklace. I tried to will it back to my armory, but the blade remained. Empty. Powerless. Just another sword. My eyes misted, but manfully, I refused to cry.
Old Man rumbled. “What matters is stopping her.” He held out his palm, purple lightning haloing his fingers as ragged jags of fire spun away, falling against Sarah’s shield. The energy burnt the air, making her shield visible around the contact point. As streamers of lightning curved around the barrier, all of it came into view. The fire play became blinding as Old Man poured more strength into the attack. Inside her shield, Sarah could no longer be seen.
Haruka’s gaze was forced away from the struggle. She noticed Salem gripping her friend “Jessie” by the throat, in the act of murdering her.
Pleading in her eyes, the succubus locked stares with Haruka.
Haruka broke away from Old Man, running to help her friend.
I was on my feet, the soulless katana abandoned on the floor as I ran flat out to intercept Haruka.
Salem backhanded her as she arrived. Her head
rocked viciously. She went down hard, not even trying to break her fall.
Ignored by the warlock for the moment, the mask of defeat on the succubus’ face slipped. Her lips curled into a tight smile of victory. Her eyes went hot-coal red as a silver shimmer seeped from her skin, followed by a concussive blast of light that slammed Salem away.
“Jessie” burned away as her true form emerged. Her broken arms mended in a moment as she shifted, sporting cute little devil horns—one inch protrusions of white bone—on her forehead. Her hair became a cloud of midnight black, her eyes red-violet stars. Dainty, black, bat wings sprouted from her back. Her hands became long-nailed claws tinted with crimson polish, and her figure acquired even more dangerous curves. Her breasts swelled, bouncing on her chest with no regard for gravity at all as her pointy tail lashed the air.
Her amped up aura of rampant sexuality stopped me mid-step, pouring molten desire into my veins. I wanted her. I needed her. I needed her naked under me. Now!
My protective shield snapped on, and I could suddenly do more than stand there like an idiot and drool—I had my guns in hand, locking muzzles onto her face.
But Salem hadn’t been idle; from the floor, he reached back toward the battle between Old Man and Sarah. Great ribbons of lightning leapt from Sarah’s shield to Salem’s hand, deflecting up from there, burning a path through the spot the succubus had occupied. Scooping to gather up Haruka, the succubus had inadvertently saved herself.
I held my fire, having to be careful with my shots so I wouldn’t hit the client I was supposed to protect.
Salem redirected the stolen lash of lighting at the two women.
I swung a gun toward his head. “Cut it out.” I ordered.
Instead of obeying, he sent ribbons of fire sizzling my way, splashing against my shield.
This let the succubus spring into the air, skimming just under the ceiling, heading for the door.
Salem’s lash caught them, coiling around their flesh. They screamed and crashed to the floor, smoking. The lightning thinned away. Old Man had broken off the attack on Sarah, so there was no loose energy for Salem to steal.
Old Man ran for Haruka.
Sarah relaxed for a split second as she found herself neglected on the battlefield. Big mistake; one of William’s severed hands scurried under her shield and grabbed her ankle. Startled, she hopped around, shaking one leg in the air. She fell and her necklace pitched away from her, rattling across the concrete floor. The chain settled over the second severed hand which jerked up on fingertips in surprise, scuttling off, dragging the necklace with it. From the rapid collapse of its shape, and the various combinations it sequenced through, the amulet acted like it was in a state of shock.
I ran for the necklace.
Salem did the same.
We exchanged shots, fanning each other’s faces with the vapor trails of our slugs. The stupid hand lurched toward
Salem, letting him claim the prize as I stopped to empty both clips at him with greater accuracy. Unfortunately, a protective shield surrounded him as he gripped the necklace. My shots were deflected. He grinned at me like the cat that swallowed the proverbial canary.
I grew aware of an odd silence in the background. The squalling and growling from Leona and Angie had ended. Exactly when, I didn’t know. I sent a quick, appraising glance across the room and saw the ladies side by side, sitting against some boxes. They were covered in blood, drooping with exhaustion, having declared a ceasefire.
Hmmm. Angie’s tougher than I’d thought.
I returned my stare to Salem, expecting renewed aggression. What I didn’t expect was Sarah, back on her feet, slinging herself at him, and bouncing off his barrier with a grimace of pain.
Hah! That will teach you.
In Salem’s hand, the necklace shuddered through another change, becoming three pronged. The space inside his shield became a muddy blue swirl of light, hazing his body into a two dimensional silhouette. The blue brightened to a neon hue, casting off a coronal wash that burnt the air, producing ozone.
The barrier collapsed like a dying star, dwindling to a pin-prick in the air before winking out.
We all stared at empty space. Salem had taken his prize and escaped.
I put my guns away as Old Man came over. “We’ve got to go,” he said. “There’s nothing left here to be gained.”
I nodded and walked to my soulless katana, picking it up. Blade in hand, I turned toward Sarah, remembering a little dragon girl and her murdered mother. “Still one piece of business to take care of,” I said.
“No!” Angie was on her feet, running awkwardly to intercept me.
Old Man said, “No one’s paying us to kill Sarah.”
I paused. “Every now and then, I balance the books with a little righteous judgment.”
Old Man slapped the back of my head. “Are you a middle schooler, or the heir to a demon clan?”
I glared at him. “You know she’s got this coming, and a lot more besides.”
Angie skidded to a stop between me and Sarah.
“She’s all that’s left of my pack,” Angie said. “I owe it to William to protect her.”
“Protecting her is what got William and the others dead,” I said.
She flinched from my words, but didn’t move out of the way.
“Killing two isn’t much harder than killing one,” I said.
A solidifying black mist, Leona faded into view. The leopard stood between me and Angie, giving me one more person to go through.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, another day then.” I slid the katana through a harness strap to free up my hands.
Angie stayed between me and Sarah, moving her toward the door. Leona saw them off, and waited at the doorway for Old Man and me. He crossed to her. I followed, pausing to gather up Haruka’s body, beautiful even in death. Cradling her against me, I left the room with a last glance behind. William’s headless body was sitting up. His severed head lay on one ear, facing me, eyes open and ablaze with hate, lips mouthing curses. The amputated hands were still scuttling around the room, bumping into things, blindly searching for William’s body in hope of reattachment.
This whole fucked-sideways mission is going to haunt me for years.
Out in the hall, Old Man took Haruka from me, gently draping her over a shoulder like a garment bag.
“Better get the cleaners in here to sanitize,” I said.
He nodded. “I’ll call them from the car.”
We hurried down the hall to the steps. Leona led us up to the kitchen. We stepped out and stopped, taking in a fresh scene of horror. The corpses that had been at peace, were now straddling the border between life and death. Not fully reanimated, muscles twitched and spasmed. Nerves fired incoherent impulses. Dead eyes were empty of emotion. Teeth gnashed. Arms and legs flailed without coordination, like fish out of water.
“What the hell!” Leona said.
“Sarah’s spell, when she brought William back,” I said. “I think her range was wider than she knew.”
“She overpowered the spell,” Old Man said, “no finesse. Must have learned spell-crafting from Necromancy for Dummies.”
“Always wanted to read that book.” I kicked away a homeless-dude corpse that flopped too close.
We heard the sounds of large trucks pulling into the side parking lot. The whump-whump of a helicopter came seconds later. Sirens were screaming closer.
“We don’t want to get caught around all this carnage,” I said.
“Your problem, not mine.” Leona faded from sight, going ghost on us.
Old Man and I used mincing steps, and a few jumps to clear the half-assed zombies writhing on the floor. We reached an exit and stepped out into the night. Nothing unnatural was stirring anymore. The grounds were littered with new wolves. Many had been hacked to pieces. Many were beheaded. A lot were human once more with bullets riddling them. The wounds were edged in black, a sign of silver poisoning. The Slayers were gone too, taking their fallen with
them.
Neat. I like that.
I studied two parked eighteen wheelers disgorging federal marshals and soldiers with automatic weapons. There were tech guys in white lab coats toting laptops, and equipment I didn’t recognize. A man-in-black wore leather gloves and an infrared visor, snapping out orders. A police helicopter buzzed them, a spotlight stabbing down on the red vehicles. A radio message was sent from the ground troops and the chopper withdrew. I didn’t need to see the plates on the trucks to know they were government.
I said, “PRT, Old Man.”
He nodded. “Preternatural Response Team. They must have known something like this was going to break out. They’re here way too fast. Guess I won’t have to call the cleaners after all.”
“They might have followed the Slayers into town,” I said. “Hey, stay close. I’m going to use my Demon Wings to keep everyone’s attention off us so we can get the car.”
“Worth a try,” Old Man said. “Just remember that the PRT employs magic-users, and some of them are top-grade seers.”
“I know. I’ve run into these guys before.” I thought of Cassie back in east Texas, and smiled. There’s a girl that can nail me any time—but not with live ammo.
The tats on my upper back and shoulders warmed. The ink felt like it had turned to acid and was eating into the muscle. The pain grew in intensity as I extended the magic to cover more than my own skin. Old Man helped reduce the strain on me by going all shadow, loosing distinction and color. His camouflage extended to Haruka, still draped over his shoulder. Shadow blanketed her, stealing color and definition.
Red Moon Demon (Demon Lord) Page 19
