Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2) (34 page)

The one on my right grinned, flashing fangs.  He didn’t care if I knew what he was. 

The other vamp kept a poker face in place.  He lifted a hand, one finger out, his thumb cocked back like the trigger on a gun.  His hand jerked as he pantomimed shooting a hole in my head by way of a friendly greeting.

Note to self; stick a grenade up that guy’s ass.

I turned around, depending on my shield to save me if they made a sudden move.  Vivian was a dozen steps ahead of me.  I hurried and caught up to her by the time she reached the oddly darkened corner.  Vamps were known to roll minds, to mesmerize, but this was almost on par with the glamours of the fey.  It made me wonder if there was one nearby that might be working with him.

Or he’s a lot more dangerous than I’ve given him credit for.

The shadows collapsed in on themselves, not so much revealing Roma as giving the impression that he had been the darkness and had compressed himself into human form.  An intimidating illusion, but I kept a carefree smile on my face like this was nothing special. 

He sat on the edge of a table that had appeared as miraculously as he had, and wore a two-thousand dollar suit of midnight blue, starched white shirt, and Italian loafers.  A heavy, 18 carats gold ring flashed on his right hand.  There was an old gold coin set in the face of the ring.
  For a second, my vision shifted into high gear.  The ring appeared to leap closer and expand so I could see it better.  The image of the goddess Pax—peace—was stamped onto the coin.  She bore olive branches in one hand and a scepter in the other. 

My vision snapped back to normal, and I gathered an impression of Roma himself.  He had a deep chest and a boxy build, standing five-foot ten.  His nose was aquiline, dominating a leathery, seamed face.  His lips were generous, his eyes—which I made a point to only see peripherally—were pits of black.  Artfully styled, black on white, saw-like bangs draped a high forehead.  His attention seemed locked entirely on Vivian, but I knew this wasn’t true.  He’d surely taken my measure as I’d taken his.

His voice was all hearty warmth, “Princess!  So good to see you.  You’re looking lethal as always.”  He pushed off the table, taking his weight on his feet as he opened his arms wide for a hug.  He flashed fangs smiling.  “Come give Papa a kiss.”

Vivian slid her hands to her hips, lodging her thumbs in her belt loops.  “I’ve told you I want you to stay out of my life.  Is that so hard to understand?”

“Blood calls to blood.”  His tone deepened, softening.  “I heard you were hurt.  Bad.  I just wanted to see, to know…”  His eyes slid to me.  Though I avoided direct contact, the force of his stare was like slamming into a brick wall.  I’d felt the power of a master-level vamp before, Gloria for instance.  This was different.  Another kind of power was work.  I warmed up my
Dragon Sight
tat, clenching my teeth, knotting my jaw against a thousand hot needles skewering my flesh.  The sensation ghosted away, and I stared past Roma, into a whirl of shadows that resisted my magical vision.

“There’s another person here,” I warned Vivian.

“Is there?”  Her musing question was thrown at her father.

He turned his attention back to her.  “Your boyfriend is perceptive?”

“He’s—”

I interrupted her answer, “He’s got a contact among the dhampyr.  He’s working more than one side.”

Roma shrugged.  “That’s what vampires do.”

Vivian shot me a disbelieving glance.  “That makes no sense.  Why would any dhampyr want the vamps horning into this territory?”

“Good question,” I said.

Roma’s stare returned to batter me.  “What else do you know?”

“The same
hidden power
I sensed at the dhampyr mansion, the same veil I couldn’t pierce, is right here.”  I pointed at the table behind Roma.  “And since I don’t believe in coincidence, or trying to out drink a leprechaun, I’m fairly sure the dhampyr traitor is using the dream stone to bend reality out of the way.”  I powered up my
Dragon Voice
tat, and felt my head getting ripped off and put back again none too gently.  I wasn’t at all sure this next trick would work, but I had to try.  My voice rolled out like a bomb blast, a magical demand.  “Come out now, before I make you eat that stone!”

TWENTY-FOUR

“I wish I’d seen the one that got away.”

                        
                      —Caine Deathwalker

Staggering back a step at my command, Roma bumped the wooden table behind him, blindly gripping its edge to steady himself.  My peripheral vision caught an eruption of red light from his eyes.  They were no longer burnt out cinders.  Next to me, at the edge of sight, Vivian collapsed to her knees, gasping as shockwaves passed.  My attention primarily centered on the emptiness beyond Roma and the table. 

Someone was magically hiding back on that corner of the rooftop.  I’d hoped to drag that presence outside their protective illusion.  That hadn’t happened, but I saw an empty chair fall over, and heard the sound of stumbling feet, of someone catching themselves against the corner bricks.  I tried to use my sense of smell, but all I got was vampire from Roma.

I glanced at Vivian as she climbed to her feet.  “See,” I told her, “I was right.”

She stared back at the White Lotus Steakhouse behind me.  “Caine, you screwed the pooch.”

“What?”  I shifted hips and turned my head to see what she was talking about.  The magical net I’d thrown hadn’t pulled its target into view, but the command had entangled some little fish.  The two vampires from atop the doorway had leaped down and were stiffly reeling my way like resentful mutts dragged on leashes.  Behind them, several human servers and a small crowd of interrupted diners were also lurching this way.  The
Dragon Voice
tattoo had done its job too well.

I qualified my next statement and used a toned-down version of the
Voice
, “Humans, go back inside, pay your bills, and get out.”

The crowd lost impetus, swayed, and emerged from their entranced state.  Burbling confused sounds, they turned and left. 

The two vamp soldiers came on until they were in front of me, then steadied as motor-control returned.  They seemed to know I was the one who’d literally jerked them around.  About to lunge, their bodies compressed, but they took a moment to hiss, and bare fangs in unimpressive wrath.

What pussies
.  A real warrior never hesitates when the time to strike has come, nor does he give warning.

Vivian said, “Father, control your servants, or I will.”

“Down.  I will tell you when and whom to bite,” Roma said.

And that explained why they were pretty much useless; he didn’t trust them to act on their own, so they weren’t used to it.  However they did have the virtue of obedience.  The soldiers stayed tense, but came no closer, straightening into non-threatening postures, their clawed hands shoved into coat pockets like they’d practiced the synchronized move.

Roma waved them off.  “Go back to your stations.”

Their hands came out of their pockets.  The vamps offered half a bow, and stalked away. 

I turned back toward Roma, making sure to keep my eyes averted from his.  “You do know vampires are not welcome in this town?  When the dhampyr discover your presence, they’re going to be hell-bent on tracking you down and staking you as a general example to anyone interested in their territory.”

He casually adjusted the line of his jacket and tie.  “I’m not overly concerned.  I believe the Spirit Bear running amok has bought me time to accomplish my goals.  I have you to thank for that, do I not?”  He smiled.

“You want to tell me what it is you want,” I asked, “besides spending quality time with Vivian?”

I’m tired of this bullshit diplomacy.  It’s so much more fun when I can kill all of life’s little irritations.

Roma’s stare shot to Vivian.  Whatever emotions burned in his gaze missed me since I couldn’t risk looking that closely, but his voice roughened, as if there were some slight remnant of a soul inside him.  “A city, by rights, belongs only to those who can take and keep it.  It is the obligation of the strong to do just that, for the public good.”

Her voice shrilled, “So we need monsters ruling over us for our
own good
?”

“It is the lesson of ancient
Rome,” Roma said.  “Pax Romana.  Stability and prosperity only come through crushing strength.  This truth is embraced by your country’s federal tyranny which consistently rules against the will of its predominately conservative people.”

“So might makes right?” Vivian said.  “Because you could, you had an obligation to rape my mother and bring me into this world?”

Roma winced at her words.  “I loved your mother and she loved me.  When my enemies struck her down, it was as if my heart were ripped out by the roots and locked in a deep, cold abyss.  I retreated from the world until I found the strength to bury the pain, concealing such weakness.”