Fallen Stars (The Demon Accords)
Read Fallen Stars (The Demon Accords) Online
Authors: John Conroe
Fallen Stars
A novel of the Demon Accords
By John Conroe
For Barbara H. Conroe: 9/1/31 – 1/14/13
Contents
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel either products of the author’s imagination or are used factiously.
Copyright © 2013 John Conroe
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
The Demon Accords
God Touched
Demon Driven
Brutal Asset
Duel Nature
Fallen Stars
Chapter 1
“Badonkadonk? What the hell is a badonkadonk?” I asked my companion. We were standing in the parking lot of a country western bar in Asheville, North Carolina and the band inside was singing about honky tonk badonkadonks.
My partner sighed at my ignorance of country slang, swiveled on one foot, and pointed at her own anatomy. My eyes were directed by one slim finger to view a rather perfect female butt, clad in skintight jean shorts.
“Oh!” was my artful reply. I jerked my eyes back up to her smirking face, thanking the V-squared virus for darkening my skin to the point where a blush won’t show up.
“What’s the matter, hero? Why’s your face so hot?” she asked sweetly. Damn, forgot she could see thermal patterns as well as I could.
The problem was that Stacia was a magnificently attractive girl, as noted by a middle-aged fella who walked into the side of an F-150 pickup, much to the annoyance of his wife, as they approached the bar.
Being drop dead gorgeous wasn’t a crime so much as the fact that she was so in my face with it all the time. If I were single, it might be different. Would likely be different. Aw, hell, it would most definitely be different.
But I’m most assuredly not single. In fact, I’m bound tighter than bark to a tree to the most beautiful vampire on the planet. She also happens to be one of the most deadly creatures to roam our world. My companion Stacia’s not helpless; she is, after all, a werewolf. But against Tatiana Demidova, she would be a baby to an NFL linebacker. But Tanya wasn’t here, and I didn’t know when I would get to see her again. I still have a hard time picturing myself as a guy with more than one girl. Hell, for most of my life, I didn’t believe I could have even one girl. I’m the anti-player.
“Why are we meeting the Pack here?” I asked, looking away from her platinum-blonde-framed features and studying a couple of good ole boys who were studying Stacia.
“It’s neutral, well-populated, and apparently one of their regular spots,” she answered, her voice going matter-of-fact but her green eyes still gleaming. She checked the fall of her flowing white shirt, glanced down at her rich brown cowgirl boots, adjusted the brim of her straw cowboy hat, and then gave me a scowl. I knew what it was about.
“Don’t start. I’m not a cowboy, don’t own the boots, hats, the shirts, or the slip-string neckties. Besides, this isn’t bad is it?” I asked, waving one hand at my jeans, work boots and tee shirt.
She studied me critically, then smiled. “No, you’re fine. Better than fine, but I was just wishing your shirt was a bit more fitted—tighter.”
She spun around and headed toward the door, leaving me standing there looking stupid. Stupider. I watched for a split second, caught up in how her badonkadonk was swinging in time to the band’s beat, then shook myself. She knew I favored loose clothes. I have a hard enough time trying to stay under the radar. Emphasizing my V-squared-enhanced physique was so not helpful in that regard. Of course, Stacia failed to stay off anyone’s radar, and she preferred it that way.
I glanced at the third member of our little group, met his soulful brown eyes, and immediately got defensive. “What?”
Awasos looked away and then trotted to catch up with Stacia. On four large wolf feet, it only took him a couple of seconds.
I caught up with the both of them as the bouncer at the door was shaking his head.
“Absolutely not. No animals in the bar,” he said firmly. About six-four, two-hundred forty pounds, with a bald head and wearing all black, he looked more like a biker than a country-western type. Sitting on a stool, he had one size twelve engineer’s boot on the floor and one on the lowest rung.
“Please? He’s my guide dog,” Stacia pleaded, a sexy pout forming on her lips.
He looked like he might be wavering, but then I showed up and he got all by-the-book on us.
“No. Absolutely no animals,” he repeated.
“Hell, you’ll have to throw out half the customers if that’s true,” I said, looking past him at the rowdy crowd.
“Listen pal, those
animals
pay. This…monster doesn’t!”
Before he could go any further, Awasos jumped forward and pressed his nose up against the man’s leg. Then he backed his furry bulk up and gave one short chuff before spinning around and trotting back into the parking lot. The good ole boys who had followed us (well, Stacia, anyway) veered out of his way in a hurry. Something about Shetland-pony-sized wolves running at you will do that.
“Uh oh!” I said, watching my wolf disappear into the parked cars. “You’ve offended him. Shit! Not again!”
“Damn,” Stacia agreed softly. “Sorry, but it was your own fault for calling him a monster,” she directed at the bouncer.
“What? What’s he doing?” the big bald guy asked.
“He got your scent, so now he’s tracking down which car or truck is yours,” I said.
“What’s he gonna do when he finds it?” Baldy asked.
“Well, he kinda
ate
the last one,” I said regretfully.
“
What!
” Bouncer man took off into the parking lot at a dead run, pulling a key fob from his pocket as he went. Almost immediately, Awasos came running from the side of the parking lot, having circled around.
“Did you find it?” I asked him.
He woofed once softly.
“Did you pee on his radiator?”
Another woof.
“Good boy! Baked-on wolf pee has a half-life of like a year! Let’s go,” I said, ignoring the incredulous looks from the good ole boys.
I led the way through the door, my senses coming online as I entered potentially dangerous territory. Grim was lurking just below the surface of my awareness, ready to take over if things went to shit.
Awasos came next, just in front of Stacia, who sighed at our demonstration of aggressive tactical entry.
“You know, the purpose of a liaison is to liaise. Not hang back at the end of the line,” she complained.
“Humpf. The purpose of an industrial-grade monster smasher and his furry sidekick is to protect. We can’t do that from behind.”
Awasos woofed at me.
“What? You’re not the sidekick?”
He woofed again, making several people jump sideways. The panic left their eyes a bit when they saw he had directed it at me.
“Oh, so what? I suppose you think
I’m
your sidekick?” I questioned.
He woofed in agreement and trotted past me to take point.
“How does that feel, hero?” Stacia asked, watching me.
“About par for the course,” I answered, absently watching my furry pal point the way to the back of the giant bar, where a group of eight werewolves were playing pool and watching the booty-swinging girls on the dance floor. A couple of the ladies near the dance floor were also wolves, bringing the total number of weres to ten. My ability to spot vampires and weres wasn’t showing any other supernaturals in the place.
The group at the pool tables had spotted us, or at least Stacia. It was fun to watch their attention lock on her like guided missiles, then shift to the real wolf, then finally me. Their posture went from horny males to territorial wolves in a split second.
The bar was a wood-framed single-story structure that had a massive main dance floor with a stage centered along one wall. The entry had brought us in at one corner of the rectangular space, with the stage wall to our right and the fifty-foot oak bar ninety degrees to our left.
The pool tables were beyond the bar diagonally from where we stood, tucked into the far corner.
“Alrighty, Miss Liaison, shall we do this?” I asked.
“Let’s,” she agreed, moving up beside me.
Chapter 2
I checked out our potential clients as we worked our way around the thumping and bumping crowd on the dance floor.
One of the men was huge, easily dwarfing the bouncer we had bypassed at the door. He had to go close to six-ten, well over three hundred pounds, but I knew he wasn’t the leader, just muscle. Lots of it, though, straining his Toby Keith tee shirt to its limit.
No, I pegged the Alpha as the blond-haired guy with the beard who was seated at the table closest to the pool game. His gray eyes were focused completely on me, after sparing a glance at Stacia and the wolf. The others were either watching my liaison or my wolf, their expressions ranging from open admiration (for her) to shocked outrage (at him).
“Ned Granger? I’m Stacia Reynolds and this is Chris Gordon. My Alpha, Brock Mallek, sends his regards,” my partner said, walking straight past two of his pack and stopping directly in front of the bearded blond. Two female weres, one short brunette, the other a redhead of medium height, approached from the dance floor to our right, just slightly behind us.
The two front weres ignored Stacia but growled at my wolf in warning. He
stopped and sat on his furry rump.
“Yo fellas, leave him be. He’s still a pup,” I said.
That caused them to look up and growl at me.
“That’s better,” I agreed, smiling.
Stacia spun and shot me a worried look, making a little
settle down
motion with her hand. I stopped, feet spread and arms crossed, standing just slightly ahead of my wolf. Awasos glanced at me then scooted his rump slightly forward till he was just ahead of
me.
