Demon Lord 3: Blue Star Priestess (15 page)

I felt my inner dragon shoving my awareness out of the way so he could act.  He wanted to live as much as I did.  Darkness swelled out of my soul, a thin veil through which I felt my limbs burn.  I sensed that my skin was toughing up even more, that my bones were growing denser, as if I were changing into a dragon.  I crackled with electricity and smelled ozone.  Something exploded and then I fell through shingles, raining down with them until a floor kindly stop my fall, cracking a rib or two.

Oh, god, why do I do this to myself?

Vision returned as my inner dragon retreated, having done what he could.  I dragged my hands up before my face.  I expected to see scaled paws with black claws, but my hands were normal, just bit swollen.  My muscles had indulged in an orgy of growth, as had my bones, but my body was reverting to normal, a lot of the damage I’d taken getting lost in the partial change.

Having burst out of my clothes at some point and losing my Kevlar vest, I lay naked on the floor with a middle aged man in satin boxers holding a shotgun to my ass.  A mid-twenties girl screamed from the nearby bed.  D-cups, I noticed.

“Move and I shoot,” I man screamed.  “Carol, honey, shut up and grab my phone off the night stand.  Call nine-one-one.”

I stayed on the floor, waiting for my bones to stop thrumming with the pain and magic, hoping I’d returned to normal, or something close to it anyway.  My gaze was caught by a green dildo that had fallen off the bed.   It gleamed wetly.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” I muttered.

Carol stopped screaming, but didn’t move.  The middle aged man took a step back.  He carefully circled me, keeping me covered all the while.  He moved toward his phone.  “Funny,” he said, “you looked a lot bigger when you fell through the roof.”

“Yeah, that happens.” 

He looked away from me for a split second to pick up his phone.  Big mistake.  I pushed myself up with one arm and used the other to grab his shotgun.  I ripped it away and used the weapon to climb to my feet.  Once I was standing, I broke the thing in half and handed back the pieces.

The girl on the bed stared at my dangling manhood.  “He looks big enough to me.”

I glared at the man, which is hard when suppressing a grin.  “Car keys.”

The man dropped one of the pieces of the gun and snagged the keys next to his phone.  “Here.”

I took the keys and shambled away at a pace just slightly faster than a walk.  I went through the house and found the garage.   A switch opened the door so I could drive away in a cobalt blue Lexus.  I weaved through traffic at high speed, but lost the trail of magical energy put out by Julia and the Hazmat man.  The vehicle skidded as the last of my adrenaline rush fizzled out.  I had a moment when I slipped into shallow sleep, snapping out as a horn blared at me.  I hit a light-pole.  The air bags went off and bounced me around because I didn’t have a seat belt on.  Growling, I kicked and clawed out of the vehicle, falling to the pavement.   It took me a moment to drag myself to my feet.

I’ve been crashing like this way too much lately.  Better stop.

A ball-licking hipster walked up to the wreck, recording the whole thing on his camera phone.  “Oh, man, someone should call nine-one-one.  Hey, man, you know you’re naked right?  Dude, you’re so not helping traffic driving like that.”  He aimed his phone at my face, then down my body.  “Just wait ’til I get this posted on YouTube.”

I grabbed his phone and smashed his head on the roof of my wreck.  After a quick change of clothes, I snapping his neck and I stuffed him the driver’s seat.  Limping off, I dialed Zero-T.  I looked at the car while leaning against a wall.   The car’s hood was crumpled up.  Leaking gas was pooling under the vehicle.   I called on my inner dragon. 
If you please?

My hand swung up with a mind of its own.  A thread of golden lightning arced out.  The gas ignited.  The car went up, taking the obnoxious teen with it.

Zero-T answered.  “Yeah?”

I gave him the closest intersection for an address.  “Come get me.”

“Do you need a cleanup crew?” he asked.

“Not anymore.”

FIFTEEN

“Sorry, I’ve called dibs—on
everything.”

                                    —Caine Deathwalker

A day later, after several doses of healing magic, and a lot of tender loving care from Izumi, I felt well enough
for bloody carnage once again; especially when a messenger came from the First Sword, actually ordering me to report to him for debriefing.  I shot the messenger.  I know that’s bad form, but it was only in the foot—my way of sending a message. 

He’d no doubt heard from the Old Man that I’d allowed a dragon child to be taken by the enemy, and had lost a spell of unspeakable power.   Kaden wanted to drag me over the coals, and embarrass me publicly.  Lauphram had that right, and had declined not too.  No one else mattered.  But I figured if I messed with Kaden, I might as well give equal attention to
Dimitris. 

He ran the clan house, handling domestic operations, doing everything necessary to keep things around here running smooth.   He looked upon the house and property as his own little kingdom, answering only to Lauphram.  The time was past due for me to remind him of his limitations, and I had just the scheme. 

I dressed in my best Italian suit: midnight blue, with dark red handkerchief and tie, and went out to lounge in the living room.  Osamu delivered my shoes freshly shined, and I filled him in on my plans.  “Have Zero-T fabricate a sign for me, and put it on the hallway door.  The sign is to read: IMPERIAL EMBASSY.  From now on, these suites are an extension of my fey kingdom.  I have appointed Izumi my official Ambassador.  You are responsible for embassy security.”

“And the purpose of all this,” Caine-sama?”

“Thumbing my nose at Kaden and Dimitris is a big part of it, but it’s also preemptive.  You are going to be coming and going through the house on various errands.  Kaden’s people are going to mess with you, because that’s how they can mess with me.  I want you to be able to chop off someone’s head and walk away without consequences because of diplomatic immunity.  Izumi and I will be joining the Old Man for breakfast.  She will present her credentials at the time.”

Izumi swept into the room in a frost-pink, strapless sheath.  Her high heels were red, like her lipstick, and she wore white gloves that halfway covered her upper arms.  “I have credentials?”

I looked at Osamu.  “Scrounge those up too.”

“Yes, Caine-sama.  I will attend to it at once.”

A half hour later, Zero-T breezed in.  “Hey, Caine, you know that overgrown chicken you tangled with yesterday?” 

“I’m not likely to forget.”

“We didn’t have to clean it up, just used a spell to cover the freakin’ huge hole in the building where it crashed.  I called several of the more carnivorous were-clans and told them to come get it and bring their appetites.  A good time was had by all, and you got a lot of good will out of it.”

“Smart,” I said.  “If I were paying you anything, you’d deserve a raise.  Now get together with Osamu.  There’s skullduggery afoot.  You don’t want to miss out on a little payback, do you?”

He grinned, revealing a Snap-on gold tooth.   “You know that’s right.”

Zero-T and Osamu
came up with a hastily typed and printed document for Izumi.  She and

I left
to meet up with the Old Man.  Entering the hall, I had to step around a pair of twin girls in black and white maid uniforms.  They were using a spray bottle to apply magic potion on a few spots of blood.  The blood would come up easily, leaving the hall lemony fresh.  They stared at me, trembling in fear as I passed.  Their emotion was an acid scent in the air.  The dragon part of me was good at sniffing terror, but not so good at other emotions yet.

We really ought to practice more.

Izumi smiled down at them.  “It’s all right, he doesn’t shoot children.”

I muttered, “There’s always a first time.”

“Be good to the help,” Izumi said.  “It pays off in the long-run.”

True.
  I pull out my wallet and let a few twenties flutter from my hand to the carpet.  “Oh, look,” I said, “someone accidently dropped some money.”

They started to reach for the bills, then paused, probably suspecting a trick.

“Go on,” I said.  “There’s a lot more, if you should hear things I might want to know.”

The twenties were snatched up, vanishing into the girls’ clothing.  Izumi closed the suite door and we continued down the hall.  She slanted me a sideways gaze.  “You just couldn’t do a good deed with no strings attached, could you?”

“I’m a demon lord, not a philanthropist.  Flat-out charity sets too dangerous a precedent.”

We made our way to the Asian dining room, past the great hall.  Regular breakfast had already been served in several stages for the demon clan.  Workers were clearing away the mess from the last round of service.  In contrast, the head table on its raised dais was immaculately set with plates, utensils, glasses, cups, and cloth napkins.  There was a white-orchid, palm frond centerpiece to contrast with the black lacquer of the table which was surrounded by black silk cushions.  The soft sounds of harp and flute swept along in the background, someone’s idea of music to aid digestion.

Izumi and I strolled to the table and seated ourselves.  This triggered a rush of workers to fill water glasses and offer coffee or juice.  If anyone here feared me, they suppressed their emotion well.  I smelled nothing. 

Old Man came in through a side door and sauntered over.  His Mr. Olympic body strained a navy blue suit.  He wore a lightweight turtleneck.  Its paler blue was just a few shades deeper than his skin tone.  He smiled and nodded to Izumi, and gave me a bold, appraising stare.  “You guys are getting quite domestic, aren’t you?  Going to tie the knot soon?  I could use some grandchildren to train in the family business.”

“If we went that way, and ever came up with rug-rats, Izumi would never turn them over to you.  She knows how I was raised.”

He shrugged and sat down beside us.  “Better the cruelty of family than loving neglect that leaves a child unready for a savage universe.”

I reached for my water glass.  “I agree.   Even when I was a child, I knew why you did all the things you did.  It’s the only reason I never killed you in your sleep.  That and the fact that you had a magic, spell-proof lock on your bedroom door.”   I took a sip and set the water aside, as the help brought coffee, ice coffee for Izumi, and grapefruit juice for the Old Man.  The servants retreated.  Soon, they’d be back with platters of various kinds of food for us to choose from.

“About yesterday,” the Old Man said.  “I don’t blame you for anything.  And we’ll get Julia back.  Red’s has taken the theft of his ward as a direct insult to their honor.  They didn’t like a half-human in their clan, but she was
theirs
.  You know how dragons are about their possessions being taken.”

I gave him my half-dragon stare.  “Why, no, how could I know such a thing?”

Izumi jabbed me with an elbow.  “Behave.  No fighting at the breakfast table.”  She smiled.  “It sets too dangerous a precedent.”

“Give him the paper,” I said.

“Huh?  Oh, yes, here.”  She handed over a paper folded in half, reaching past my face.

The Old Man took the letter and read it as the works carried platters of smoked sausage, bacon, ham, eggs, waffles, fresh fruit, and buttered toast.  I used a fork to indicate which of the items I wanted, letting them pile up on my plate.  Izumi went with waffles, strawberries, and whipped cream.   The head chef came out in a white uniform, wearing a puffy hat.  He personally served the Old Man his eggs Benedict and French toast dusted with powdered sugar, sprinkled with fresh blueberries. 

By then, the Old Man finished the letter, tucking it away, a chuckle on his lips.  “Imaginative strategy.  You do me proud.  What’s next, embassy guards outside your suite doors?  Are you going to put a diplomatic license plate on Osamu’s limo so you can get out of parking tickets?”

I considered.  “Would that work?”

The workers scurried off like cockroaches when the lights come on.  Dimitris had entered the hall by the main doors and was bearing down on the head table.  The butt of his staff,
thunked
rhythmically as he came.  He wore a robe of hunter green, trimmed with gold.  The look didn’t quite match his steel-toed combat boots.  He gritted his teeth so hard, I expected to hear them break at any time.

I picked up my coffee in case it became necessary to throw something in his face.  Then I thought better of easting the coffee.  I leaned sideways, into Izumi, and stared into her winter-blue eyes.  “You will save me from this threatening creature, won’t you?”

She looked at the consignor, then back at me.  “Sure,” she squeezed my thigh under the table, “but it will cost you.”

I widened my eyes in mock-shock as the monster in my pants hardened.  “You’d take advantage of me?”

She nodded emphatically.  “Repeatedly.”

Dimitris stopped at the edge of the dais, his smoldering glance raked me, then remembering his manners, he visibly calmed himself, bowing respectfully to the Old Man.

The Old Man smiled while cutting his French toast with a fork.  The smile had no warmth, having a shark-like quality.  “It’s not my habit to listen to complaints while eating.  Bad for digestion.”

Dimitris bowed again, deeper this time.  “I am sorry, my lord, I am overcome by indignity. 

The outrage!  You cannot imagine.”

The Old Man contemplated the piece of toast on his fork.  He sighed.  “All right, make it quick.”

Dimitris pointed at my face.  “This creature—!”

“My son.”  The Old Man took a bite and reached for his juice.

“Is shooting demons in the hallway, getting blood everywhere.”

“Actually, just one demon,” I said.

Throwing a baleful glare at me, Dimitris continued.  And he’s damaged the door to his suite, hanging a ridiculous plaque.  Housekeeping was turned away when they could not provide a passport for this new ‘foreign territory.’”

Good job, Zero-T.

Dimitris threw his hands into the air.  “It is too much to be borne.”

“No,” I said, “it definitely got born all right, hatched from my fertile imagination just this morning.  Sometimes, I even amaze myself.”

Dimitris sputtered.

The Old Man held up a hand, calling for silence.  “Are you not aware that my soon is a lord in Fairy with his own bonded kingdom?”

Dimitris stared.  “That can’t be right.”

Izumi lifted a knife she’d been using to saw through a sausage she’d stolen off my plate.  “I’m the ambassador for his fey domain, and I’ve already delivered my credentials.”  She paused a second.  “You aren’t trying to get rid of me are you?  I could cry ice cubes.”

“That won’t be necessary.  Dimitris is withdrawing his objections,” the Old Man looked at his consignor.  “Aren’t you?”

“I—uh, of course, my lord.  A simple misunderstanding, apparently.”

“Apparently,” I echoed.  “I will speak to embassy security though.  There’s no reason we need to deny ourselves housekeeping services.”

The Old Man smiled.  “There, all settled.”  He moved on to his eggs.

Dimitris stood there.  Stood there some more.  Then turned tail and slunk off.

Breakfast went on.  Messengers came and went with reports from the War Room.  The Old Man would glance at them, and set them aside.  Nothing seemed important enough for him to act, which meant the enemy was laying low so far today, or Kaden was able to keep the lid on the boiling pot.  Keeping busy, I hadn’t expected him to accompany Dimitris here, but I knew I’d get both barrels of his contempt when our paths crossed. 

I pushed my plate away.  “So, Old Man, about that scroll…”

“Useless,” he said.  “You have to be able to speak ancient Atlantean to invoke it.”

“And that’s a dead language?” Izumi said.

“A murdered language, actually,” the Old Man said.  “Someone is running a bluff.”

I wasn’t so sure.  There was a tone in the Old Man’s voice that said he wasn’t completely convinced himself.  “Just who do you think is behind all this?”

“Tell me a little more about that weather wizard you ran into,” he said.

“A scholar, I think, a general, too.  He knows how to command troops, run an operation, and judging from the spells on that hazmat suit of his, he’s educated in a wide variety of magic systems.  He hit us with lightning, fog, wind, and heavy ordinance.”

“A perfect rival for you,” Izumi said.

“A dead rival when I see him again.”

The Old Man cleared his throat.  “So, uh, you didn’t get a good look at his face?”

I shook my head no.  “Uh, uh, but he’s big, almost as tall as you, though not as buff.  Still, he moved with power, obvious martial arts training—but not the bad kind where you’re always posing.   Thinking about it, maybe it’s a good thing the fight didn’t go hand-to-hand.  I think I’ll start carrying around some hand grenades.   They would have come in handy yesterday.”