The Last Slayer (4 page)

“You need to outsource, so you sent me a demon?” I glanced at Valerie. “Is there something I’m not getting?”

“We needed to know if you were good,” Andersen said.

“Then you should’ve sent a dragon instead of a demon. Oh, but wait. Regular mortals can’t command dragons.” I looked at him steadily. “Or demons.”

The gray eyes didn’t even flicker. “It owed me a favor.”

I don’t like being lied to, but I kept my expression blank. Demons don’t owe favors to mortals. Either Andersen knew the demon’s true name, which was highly unlikely, or he was a summoner who didn’t want to reveal his magical gift. The latter would have been understandable. Some people still stuck to the archaic belief that anyone dabbling in magic was a heathen at best, a demon’s servant at worst.

I took a bite of chicken. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Work with us to ensure security for TriMedica. You’ve heard the rumors of the Triumvirate of Madainsair’s visit, I suppose?”

“Might’ve caught something on cable a couple weeks back.”

He scowled. “They’re coming. At least Semangelaf is. To TriMedica.”

Another chunk of chicken disappeared into my mouth. “And?”

“We want you to confiscate his weapons.”

The chicken almost came back up, which I did not appreciate. Valerie patted my back.

I took a quick swallow of Coke Zero. “You want me to do
what?”

“You heard me.”

“Not possible.”

“We’ll be giving you full support.”

Was this guy really in charge? He couldn’t be as dumb as he sounded. “Do you have any idea what you’re dealing with? Dragonlords have enough magic to blast this entire building to dust in a nanosecond. They’re accustomed to absolute rule, instant obedience. And they couldn’t care less about mortals. What makes you think I can make one of them do something he doesn’t want to do?”

“Rumor. Nobody knows any of that for sure.” Despite his confident tone, a deep furrow appeared between his eyebrows.

“Even a wyrm, the lowest and least powerful type of military dragon, can destroy a group of mortals without much difficulty.” I put the half-empty carton on the coffee table between us. “And you want me to just walk up and ‘disarm’ a guy who controls thousands of wyrms, controls them by virtue of his power.” I stood up, looking Andersen in the eye. “Let me spell it out for you. The only way to survive Semangelaf’s visit is by being smart, being humble and not offending him.”

“We intend to be polite, of course.”

“Well, that’s nice.” But even if they meant well, they wouldn’t know how to act around the dragonlord. Nobody understood the demigods who commanded dragons. It wasn’t as if we hung out with them or anything, and the ancient texts—there were so few of them left—said very little on the matter. “So when is he coming?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

My head swiveled to Valerie and then back to Andersen again. My mouth was probably hanging open a little. “And you waited until now to find someone to help you?” And here I thought
I
had a problem with procrastination.

“We just learned about the schedule change this afternoon.”

“You don’t give me much time.”

His eyes cooled and challenged. “I thought you were the best.”

I am the best, but I’m not crazy. I rose from my seat and looked at Valerie. “Can we talk?” I glanced toward her office.

She gave me a smile. A wasted effort. She knew why I wanted to talk to her privately, and I knew why she was smiling. It was a familiar routine. I’d get worked up about something, and she’d calm me down, make me consider the bigger picture. Except this time it wasn’t going to work.

“Excuse us, gentlemen,” she said, and started walking toward the back of the building. Every single male eye followed the cant of her hips.

She took me to her office around the corner. It was one of the largest ones on the floor, and she had a right to it—after Jack, she was the partner who brought in the most business. The oak door had a very powerful amulet and wardings, ones Valerie had designed herself. She shut the door and gestured to a modular white chair across from her elegant black fiberglass desk.

“I’ll stand,” I said.

Her desk held crystal figurines, books on symbology and lots of pictures of herself. I’d have kept pictures of myself on my desk too if I’d looked like her.

She went around the desk and fiddled with a coffeemaker by the window. “Want something to drink?”

“No.”

She shrugged and made herself a cup of steaming coffee. “So? Let’s have it.”

I felt better for having eaten, but the turn of events had left a sour taste in my mouth. “How long have you known about the test?”

“Since they approached me this afternoon.” Valerie wrapped her hands around a black mug emblazoned with the firm’s blue-and-white shield logo. “They knew we had a dragon specialist and wanted to hire us as consultants.”

I did dragons on the side as a secondary specialty, nothing more, but nobody else in the region knew anything about them. “And you said okay?”

She took a sip of her drink. “Of course. They paid us extra for it, they said it was a deal breaker, and out of all the potential clients they offered the most money—”

“Valerie,” I said. The money thing further fouled my mood. “I didn’t become a hunter so you could send me into some trap. I went there thinking that she was a real client. Instead, she turned out to be a demon. If I hadn’t figured it out as quickly as I did, I could have died. Get it? I could have
died.”

Guilt flashed in her eyes, but then they cleared. “Ashera.” Her voice was patient, a mother explaining the basic facts of life to an unreasonable child. “You are way too good for a supernatural like that. Are you dead? No. Is there a head sitting out in the lobby? Yes. And don’t worry about the paperwork. I’ll have a firm attorney on it first thing tomorrow.”

It was just a bit too obvious a ploy. “You’re so full of it. Who fed you those lines?”

“Oh, please.” She waved a well-manicured hand. “It’s just this one time. Besides, I gave you Sex right before the hunt.”

“Guess I should thank you for the early birthday present.” I crossed my arms. At least she had the grace to blush a bit. “It was Jack, wasn’t it?”

There was an uncomfortable silence. She obviously didn’t want to rat him out, but I’d’ve bet my hunter’s license he was the one behind this scheme.

Valerie sighed. “How did you know?”

“Because sometimes Jack does things that make no sense. Unlike you.” I stared out the window. “Usually.”

“He said you had to do it. And of course, he didn’t tell me why…even though he made me the messenger.” She sipped her coffee. “You know it’s bad form to shoot the messenger, right?”

“Valerie. My life was on the line. Money’s nice, but it doesn’t compare to breathing.”

“I did meet with Andersen before I told you about the Selena thing. He claimed that the supernatural owed him a favor and promised you wouldn’t get hurt.”

Her mouth was just slightly tighter than normal. She wasn’t happy about the situation either, but it had been an order from Jack. I’d never seen her challenge him in anything, even during her teen years. And if I’d been in her position, I might have done as he asked. He was an unbelievably accurate diviner. As far as I knew, he’d never been wrong. He wouldn’t have agreed to it if he’d Seen anything bad happening to me.

Still, a part of me wanted a pound or two of flesh. It was time to channel my aggression into something else. “What about that other demon? What was his deal?”

“Other demon? What are you talking about?”

I know Valerie better than anyone, and I looked at her carefully. She wasn’t lying. So the demon was something Jack had kept to himself…or else it was some kind of coincidence.

I don’t believe in coincidences.

“I’m warning you now, so you can figure out what to say, but Jack and I are going to have a very long talk.” When I caught him in a non-diviner moment.

I’d joined the firm because, well, it had been unthinkable not to. Jack had given me a home, an education…he’d recognized my talent when I was eight. When he’d offered me a job, I couldn’t turn him down. But that didn’t mean he was going to be able to toss me to some demon for a wad of cash without hearing how I felt about it, even if he maybe had foreseen that everything would turn out okay in the end.

“Fine with me,” Valerie said. “Oh, and be ready to lead a team of ten hunters tomorrow.”

“Lead
what?”

“Hunters. A team of ten. We’re going to need to cover a lot of people.”

My head was going to explode. “Are you kidding me? When I joined the firm, I said no group work.
Jack
agreed. I don’t do team stuff. Hell, I don’t even train new hunters.”

“They’re not new. And they won’t question your authority. It’s not like you’re some junior whatever.”

“Damn it, you’re missing the point! I don’t care about the ‘authority.’ I just don’t want to be responsible for anyone except myself and the client.” And if I could’ve done my job without involving the client, I would have.

The words hung there for a minute. Finally, Valerie sighed. “Ashera…it happened a long time ago,” she said quietly. “It’s about time you move on.”

“Easy for you to say.” Even as the words left my mouth, I knew I wasn’t being fair. Valerie had held me while I’d cried my eyes out after the screw-up that had gotten my first boyfriend killed. It had been the first and last time I’d shed tears after a hunt, and she was the only person to see me so vulnerable.

Her expression cooled, turned blank. “Well, like it or not, it’s been years. You’re a partner now, you’re in charge tomorrow, and that’s final.”

“In charge of keeping ten hunters alive, in addition to the client.” I rubbed my face. “If anything goes wrong, it’s on you. I want to make that clear. Not on me, on you.”

I didn’t wait for her response. There was nothing she could’ve said to make it right. I wasn’t in the best of moods when I returned to the reception area. Andersen & Co.’s chatter stopped, and I gave them a smile. They didn’t need to know I was pissed off, but I was still shaking my head mentally. A tight-assed, brainwashed corporate slave demanding something ludicrous, I could understand. But Jack agreeing to it? And Valerie trying to sell me on the idea that things were fine?

It felt like a betrayal.

Andersen took a step forward. “So are we clear on everything?”

“As clear as we can be.” I moved close to him and lowered my voice until only he could hear me. “Don’t fuck with me like that again, summoner.”

He seemed amused. “Or what?”

I stepped back and raised my eyebrows. Let him wonder what I’d do. The man looked like he needed to exercise his imagination.

“It’s already eleven,” I announced to the group. “If I were you, I’d get some sleep.”

None of them looked very happy. One stared at me as if I were an asylum escapee. “What about getting ready for the dragonlord?”

“He’s coming
tomorrow,”
Andersen said.

“Uh-huh. That’s precisely why we’re going to get some sleep. What are you going to accomplish by staying up all night? You want to face him half-asleep?” I waved my hand before anyone could say another word. “I’m not going to sit here and argue the point. I’ll be in by six tomorrow morning to help you out, but I’m not staying up all night.”

A scowl carved even deeper lines into Andersen’s forehead. “This is highly unprofessional. Irresponsible.”

I shrugged. “Well, Sammy, you wasted time with your test, and I’m not going to make up for it. You’ve got me, and if I were you, I’d be happy with that.” I wasn’t going to tell him that I needed to go home and consult my collection of books. I’d studied dragons, not demigods, and despite their close affiliation, dragonlords were not dragons. Not by a long shot.

I picked up my hunting gear from the couch and saluted. “See ya.”

“You can’t!” Andersen started to move between me and the door.

“Sure I can. If you don’t like my answer—” I picked up the demon head by its hair, “—talk to the head.” I tossed it at him. He caught it by reflex, then immediately let go, trying to avoid getting goo on his suit. It didn’t work.

I walked out before he—or I—could say anything else. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, authority figures bring out the smart-ass in me, and Andersen looked angry enough already.

Which was strange. Most guys like getting a little head.

***

The drive home was dull, especially given the big event to come tomorrow. The media would be all over the place, shoving mikes at everyone, shouting for comments. I cringed. The media circus was worse than running a gauntlet of wyrms. Valerie, of course, would love the spotlight. She was beautiful, articulate, telegenic and knew how to sell both herself and the firm. I, on the other hand, preferred to blend into the background unless somebody wanted a demon dead.

The Fair Lakes community was an upper-middle-class neighborhood with a lot of yuppie cars and even yuppier people. Regularly pruned trees, green lawns and colorful red and purple flowers made up the flawless landscape. I owned a fairly new two-bedroom condo on Fairfax County Parkway. I’d had it for two years, and I loved it. It was my own—my home that no one could take from me.

Regular folks have no idea what it’s like to have everything taken away. Foster care really is all about temporary families, temporary homes, constant shuffling and uncertainty. People who knew me thought I’d chosen Fairfax, Virginia, at random, or that I was here because the firm put me here. Not so. I could’ve gone to our Los Angeles office. Or Miami. Or even New York. But I didn’t want to go to those places. Los Angeles because of earthquakes, Miami because of hurricanes and New York…well, it’s just too cold up there. Besides, all of those cities are too transitory. I’d had no debt when I’d graduated from Stanford—thanks to Jack—and I’d saved and invested conservatively until I had enough to pay cash for the condo. I was putting down roots.

I parked my car in its reserved spot by the main entrance. The building had only three stories and no elevator. My unit was on the first floor. I hate hauling stuff up stairs. One of my later foster families had lived on the third floor of an elevator-less apartment, and they’d always made me carry all the heavy stuff—okay, heavy to a seven-year-old—while their own two daughters hadn’t lifted a thing.