Demon Lord 3: Blue Star Priestess (10 page)

My inner dragon spoke up:
You use a demon sword that will eat our soul if it can.

I shrugged.
  Yeah, but I am a genetic freak.  I can do the impossible and make it look easy.

Conversing with
Kaden, Dimitris held a twisted gnome staff.  Faces had been carved all along its length: gnomish faces scowling, grimacing, and shrieking in pain or fury.  The faces had bloodstone chips for eyes.  The Consignor wore black pants and shirt that showed through a tunic of ring mail.  Tarnished copper green, the metal wouldn’t have been my choice for protection, but the emblem over the chest was a magic sigil of some kind, probably the real protection he depended on.  He wore green leather boots and gloves, and a hunter green cape. 

Dimitris stood only a few inches shorter than
Kaden, but was wider and had more muscle, as if there were a bit of dwarf in his ancestry.  He had a prehensile tail that ended in a spade, and hazel hair that rustled like dead leaves.  His midnight-green eyes flicked over Kaden’s shoulder, taking in the guards blocking my way, absorbed my presence as well.  Dimitris’ stare dismissed me at once, but he murmured to Kaden. 

The First Sword turned so he also faced me, plastering on
a smug smile.  He raised his raw magic, trying to intimidate me with his unfocused power.  Waves of heat rolled off him.  Dimitris raised his power as well, a cold green mist of light that cancelled out Kaden’s heat, but not the threat of his magic.  Their united presence was supposed to put me in my place. 

All it really did was irritate me to the core, filling my mind with a near irresistible urge to take them apart, run them through a wood chipper, and sell them for bait.
  In the depths of my spirit, my dragon half roared, his power joining that of my human side.  My raw magic shimmered the air around me with a gold haze, cracking the floor under my feet, burning the air to ozone. 

I spoke with a mild tone.  “You sure you want to do this?” 

Behind me, I heard Zero-T take a step back.  The demon guards blocking my way looked like they wanted to leave as well.

Smart
demons.

Doing his best to seem unimpressed,
Kaden looked dismissively at us all. 

Dimitris’ face paled as he stepped back into the room.  Reflexively, he reined in his magic, momentarily withdrawing from the pissing contest.  It wouldn’t last;
stupidity would win out.  The Consignor was used to taking his cues from the First Sword, another problem in the clan.  

“Master Lauphram is busy,
human
,” Kaden used the word as an insult.  “Go back to your whores.  You have no business among real warriors.”

Dimitris stuck his nose in the air, looking down its aquiline length at me.  “Now, now,
Kaden, you need to speak to him in small words, and much slower.  This is Caine after all.  All he understands is humping ugly women and goats.”

Magic spilled from me as every tattoo fired to life.  Soul withering pain kinked my breath, tying my arteries into knots, shredding my internal organs.   Lightning jagged over my torso, and wound around my clenched fists. 

Kaden gripped the hilt of his sword, waiting for me to give him provocation to draw.

Dimitris’ staff glowed brighter, its pulse ever faster.  Both of them grinned, but they could not deceive my nose.  Under their excitement lay the cold stink of their fear.  I think there was something in my face, in my eyes, that they’d never expected. 
A malevolence intent on eating them alive.

I took a step forward, reaching for
the Muramasa blade at my side.

Ruining my fun, Old Man came up behind all of them, a look of exasperation on his face. 
“Is this really the time for children’s games?”

TEN

“I know my place in the universe; now

lie still so I can stand on your throat.”

                                     —Caine Deathwalker

Dimitris and
Kaden lurched around, surprised.  From their reaction, I guessed they hadn’t realized the Old Man was close until he popped up to catch them with their hands on the pathetic excuses they call cocks.  Lauphram looked past them to me.  “Good, you’re finally here.  Well, what are you waiting for?  Get in here.”

“Sure.”  I backed my magic off, letting the golden glow sink back into my skin.  My skin cooled as my tats went dormant.

My sword snarled in my thoughts:
Starved again?  I want bloody carnage, damn it!  I want an owner with balls!

Shut up,
I told my sword. 
Your time is coming
.

I went in alone since Zero-T had pulled a fade.  The War Room was much the way I remembered, round, with numerous plasma screens showing every L.A
. territory.  Ours was highlighted in ocean blue.  Blood red showed the vamp strongholds and nightclubs.  Yellow-white marked the areas claimed by magic-users like the cleaning services we often employed to keep the preternatural community secret from mankind.  Amber marked the shifters’ territories.   The fey weren’t represented because they visited, but kept no territory here, Under-the-Hill not being part of our world for thousands of years now.

One screen I noticed was devoted to marking enemy attacks over the last few days
, over a dozen.  I hadn’t realized there’d been so many.

The far side of the room had a raised dais with a magic-enhanced holo display.  This was our link to the Council Lords of the other territories.  Though the Lords all seemed to share the same stage here, they were
each actually in their own war rooms watching images of light, as we were.   The Old Man walked me over to the Council Lords.  Kaden and Dimitris trailed us like forgotten hounds.

Old Man called over to a bat-winged flunky with goat horns who sat at a desk, handling the displays.  “Maurice, bring up file Omega.”

The screen showing enemy attacks as red dots blinked.  There was a lot of red.  A new display of L.A. and the extended areas appeared.  This one used color-coded balls of light.  Three balls were at Gloria’s bar: one red, one blue, and one purple.  A red ball of light was at my Malibu mansion.  Another bloody ball marked where I’d killed the mountain giant.

Old Man spoke to our guests in the holo field.  “The purple are enemy sightings.  Orange
are possible targets.  The red balls on this screen are enemies killed.  The blue are resident deaths.”

There were a lot of those as well.  I hadn’t realized the city had been hit so hard.

I noticed Gloria wasn’t speaking for her people.  Her son Adrian, a real bastard, represented her.  In his thousand dollar, black suit with its red shirt and black tie, he kept taking time-out to sneer disdainfully at me.  It really bugged him that his mom liked me, though not in a carnal way.  If
that
were going on, he’d be at my throat long enough for my sword to pierce his heart. 

Driven
by his vampire nature to be pushy, Adrian interrupted.  “We’ll be out in force during the night, but by daylight, we have to rely on human servants.”

Living b
lood bags, you mean.

Adrian glared at me as if he’d heard my thought.  He said, “They aren’t up to handling threats of this nature and will require support.”

The Old Man said, “We’ll be sending teams out to cover the most likely targets, nailing down your area for you.  At night, you’ll be on your own.”

Adrian nodded acceptance and gratitude as if he were the one doing the favor.

Old man said, “The magic-users will have their territories protected by us twenty-four-seven so they can concentrate on after-battle clean-up.  We don’t want to defeat an invasion only to lose the protection of anonymity among humans.”

Several of the
Council members nodded agreement.

Ka
den stepped up on the Old Man’s other side, inserting himself into the discussion. 

“Master, with grave respect, our clan is
troubled, but not
sorely
pressed by these attacks.  No important demon targets have been hit.  We should let these others fend for themselves—unless they want to pay for our help…”

The lords looked at
Kaden like something they’d scraped off a shoe.   If he hadn’t been a hologram, I think Adrian would have launched himself at the First Sword’s throat.  I didn’t like Kaden’s arrogant tone myself. 

Old Man opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it. 
“L.A. is
my
territory.  I just haven’t formally accepted everyone else’s surrender yet.”  That earned me blistering looks of outrage from the holo lords, and a one-finger salute from Adrian.  I continued on despite this, turning to face Kaden.  “An attack on my city is an attack on me.  And this is obviously a total invasion.  If we let ourselves be cut into small pieces—clan by clan—nothing will be left for any of us.”

“Exactly.”  Old Man frowned at
Kaden.  “Besides, there are contracts signed decades ago allowing L.A to exist as an open city to all the major supernaturals.  We wanted this city to be one of the world-hubs where the business of our kind could be handled without interference from the European, African, or even the Asian courts.  Part of that early pact requires a threat against the city to be treated as a threat against all clans.  Now that I’ve explained something I shouldn’t have had to, can we get back to matters at hand?”

I did little to smother a chuckle of delight at the dressing down.

His face reddening with embarrassment, Kaden dropped his head and stepped back. 

The
Old Man shifted toward the council and gave them a formal bow.  “That should take care of matters for now, unless there is something else?”

Several lords returned the bow.  A few others nodded.  Adrian just cut his connection rudely.  The other lords vanished in a wink.  

The Old Man shifted focus to the Consignor, “Dimitris, liaison with the Public Door Company
.
  Shut down all portals, public and private.  We don’t need our enemies using our own magical transit system against us.” 

It was a good thought.  I’d forgotten about them because I didn’t use the service.  The magic-users charged so much, only preternatural corporations or the very wealthy could afford them.  I had better uses for my money like keeping my bar well-stocked and buying quality weapons. 

The Old Man shifted his cold stare to Kaden.  “First Sword, get the strike teams ready for instant deployment.  Make sure they know I don’t want trouble with allied clans.  I will take a breach of the peace as a personal insult.  The Council will tell their troops the same thing.”

Old Man turned to me.  “Caine, go to your room for now.  I will let you know when I need you.”

I almost snapped my neck when I looked up at Old Man.  “Are you out of your fucking mind, Old Man?”

I recognized the back-of-the-head slap from a hand made of shadow.  My head rocked forward, then back.  This was Old man’s not-quite-gentle means of correcting disrespect. 

I softened my tone before he whipped out a typhoon.  “That is to say, I’m the best weapon you have, and you want me to sit on my ass?”

“Dullest weapon.  Just can’t take orders.”
Kaden whispered, but we all heard him.

I looked in his eyes and held his gaze.  My hand rested on the hilt of my demon sword.  “You know,” I said, “you can be replaced with a masturbating orangutan from the zoo.”

Old Man’s eyes hazed with blue magic.  Tiny jags of lighting crawled over his face as the air dampened, gathering moisture from nowhere.  His voice took on a hard edge I hadn’t heard in years, since he’d trained me as a warrior.  “Everyone, you have your orders.”

Kad
en and Dimitris left. 

I stalked after them.  Old Man followed me into the hall, away from prying eyes.  I spun to face him.  “What the shit, Old Man,
are you finally going senile, or does talking lower your IQ this much?”

A hand made of shadow—I knew what it was from having felt it many times—slapped the back of my head, doing nothing to improve my temper. 

The Old Man sighed.  “Son, you were making me look bad in front of the Council.  They need to believe I’m firmly in control of my clan, or—when this is all over—we’ll have fresh unrest to deal with.  Besides, I’m grooming you for leadership.  I’ve got enough cannon fodder.  You need to stay here for now.  People need to see you commanding in my name, taking an interest in the big picture.”  Old Man settled a massive hand on my shoulder.  He gave me a friendly, crushing, squeeze.  “I have other reasons I can’t go into, so I need you to just trust me.”

“You’re making
me
look bad, but I’ll go along with this.  Just don’t wait too long giving me back my balls.  I’m not so certain you can still take me anymore.”

He smiled.  “The day you can finally kick my ass will be the proudest day of my life, but until you do, you owe me total obedience.”

He was right.  I nodded and turned away. 

Walking back to the Great Hall, I passed through to the anteroom, turned right, heading into the wing where my suite was.  Outside the hall door to my rooms, I found Zero-T.  He sat against the door, blocking my way.  His mask lay beside him in pieces.  Fallen among the shards were a couple of his teeth.  His face was lumpy and bloody.  His right arm looked broken as well.  Zero-T’s eyes were slightly open, but I didn’t think he was awake.  Most telling of all, the mother-of-pearl shark ring he usually wore was missing from his finger, which was badly mangled.

That last told the story.  He’d been disowned by Kaden.

I bent down, picked up the pieces of his mask, and left the teeth—none of them were gold.  I dragged him up and across my shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and faced the door.  The bronze face of a woman hung at
eye-level.  She was the door, and also the guardian of the door.  Her metal lids lifted and the face studied me.  I felt a flicker of magic as the spell checked me out.  The eyes closed, and the door opened itself. 

Inside lay a small square lined with terracotta tiles where shoes could be removed and stored with coats, hats, and umbrellas.  Shelving was provided under the benches.  I went in, letting the door shut and lock itself behind me. 

I seldom used this place so its décor reflected the taste of whoever the Old Man had brought in to furnish the mansion.  Deeper in the suite, a living room area with hardwood floors opened up.  An island of loveseats and couches filled the center space making a U shape facing a massive bay window made of steel and glass.  That view was partly blocked by a plasma TV that hung from the ceiling on metal bars.  In the middle of the island, a glass and chrome coffee table was loaded down with assorted objects of d’art.  I could tell at a glance there wasn’t a decent antique amid the clutter.

Left of the living
room, doors opened onto an office and a spare bedroom.  That last was where I’d told Osamu to put his things.  My things ought to be waiting through the right-hand door that led to the master bedroom and bath.  My room would have French doors and a marble balcony looking out back.  On the right was also a combination kitchenette and bar.

I dropped Zero-T on one of the white leather couches.  He’d probably bleed on it, but housekeeping was good
.  After all, this was a demon household.  Injuries were common. 

“Osamu!” I yelled toward the spare bedroom.

A moment later, the door opened.  He appeared as usual in black suit and tie.  He bowed just inside the living room.  “Caine-sama?”  His gaze flickered over to Zero-T sprawled on the sofa.  “Ah, you’ve brought a guest.”

“Yeah, see if you can get him conscious again.  Oh, and I need you to cut away the clothing from that broken arm so we can work on it.”

Osamu closed his door behind him and, without hurry, approached the couch.  He bent over the demon, checked his pulse, and pulled back for a moment’s contemplation.  I dropped onto the opposite loveseat and watched Osamu go to the kitchen.  He rummaged under the sink and returned with bottled cleaning compound, and a butcher’s knife. 

“That bottle’s got ammonia in it
?” I asked.

“I thought you might like a drink.”

“You think I’m that crazy?”  He opened his mouth to answer.  I stopped him.  “Never mind.  Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
The cleaner wouldn’t have that much ammonia in it, but most demons were sensitive to low levels.  The smell would wake him in a hurry.  I was surprised that Osamu knew that. 

Well, he’s probably dealt with demons—yokai—back in Japan.

He bent over Zero-T with the opened bottle and waved it under his nose.