Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2) (36 page)

Roma faded into view, clear distortion becoming pale silver, becoming a deepening blue, until he stood there in his two thousand dollar midnight blue suit, the coat unbuttoned.  A Roman short sword was strapped around his waist.  I think it had always been there, obscured by the stone’s dream of emptiness.  His slightly mussed hair matched the dark pits of his eyes.  Before, his eyes had exerted an annoying gravity, trying to catch my gaze.  That force was absent now. 
Maybe taking on vampire speed had given me a little more resistance.  Well, I’m not going to complain about unexpected bonuses.

I smiled at Roma as he spread his arms out in a come-and-get-me gesture.  His big weakness was clear.  He was a professional fighter, not a soldier.  He should have rushed in and pounded my head into apple butter, but he was still playing to the Coliseum crowds after almost two thousand years.

That’s going to cost you.

I wished there was more in the environment to use, but the mostly clear space was useful too.  I reached out with a thought and pulled my demon sword from thin air.  The comforting weight filled my hand.  The sword glowed soft red, tinting the under-furnished lobby with bloody highlights.  His deep blue suit swallowed the light, turning midnight purple.  Hungry as a vampire, the sword hummed in anticipation as I swung the blade into a guarding position, its tip angled toward Roma’s face.

Crouching, he drew his sword, letting the gladius scrape into view.  The thing was a museum piece, but well maintained: Spanish steel, a hardwood handle, and a flat, oval pommel of ivory.  The blade was two-edged, about twenty-two inches with a triangular point.  Such heavy swords were usually employed to slash knees under an opponent’s shield and to kill with quick stabs to the abdomen, basically, a close-quarters weapon.

“Show me your courage,” Roma said, “and it is
missio
, you may leave the arena alive.  Perform poorly and it is
sine missione,
you will die.”

My sword’s glow dimmed.  Its hungry song thinned and died.  “What the hell?”  I brought the hilt up, shook it, and smacked the bottom of the hilt the way you would a flashlight with a traitorous battery.

“Having problems?” Roma inquired politely.

I brought the sword back to a guarding stance, ready to intercept his weapon were he to rush in.  “The sword doesn’t like the taste of you?”

He arched both eyebrows.  “I beg your pardon?”

“It’s a vampire too. It drinks souls.  You don’t have one.  Apparently, I’m on my own against you.”

“Ah, so your sword is just another sword now.”

“Well, it’s still forged with meteoric iron.  Its strength and fine edge will have to be enough.”

Roma sighed.  “If I’ve learned anything in all my years, it’s that what’s important is the man, not the tool.”

I smiled.  “Hey, Roma, you’re over two thousand years old, so tell me, how much Viagra does it take?”

He lunged without tensing, a blur of motion.

If not for my
Vampire Speed
tat, and the attending boost in hand-eye coordination, my reflexes would have been inadequate.  As it was, I stepped diagonally back, trying to use the longer reach of my blade to catch him across the ribs, only to be forced to continue my retreat as he pivoted, one attack licking in after another.

I remembered where the unattended desk was.  He was trying to pin me there.  I let him think this was working.  Before I could bump into it, I leaped back, drawing my sword to the side so it was out of the way while I rolled.  On the far side of the desk, I brought my sword back in line with Roma.

“Total awareness of your environment,” Roma said.  “You’ve studied eastern fighting styles.”

Flatfooted, I hopped up onto the desk, lowering my tip to catch any strike he aimed at my feet.  “I’ve studied every style.  I’m surprised that after two thousand years, you haven’t varied your own approach.”

“I’m giving you a handicap,” he said.  “Don’t waste it.”  He kicked the side of the desk nearest him.  I heard wood breaking as the desk jerked under me, scooting several feet. 

I brought my sword point up as I sank to one knee.

He rushed in, knees sliding on the desktop, our swords crossed.  The force of the battering connection traveled up my arms.  I wasn’t the target, my sword was.  He was trying to break it with his heavier weapon.

I shifted hips, trying to slant him off me.  He didn’t move, but my efforts sent me skidding off the desk, onto my feet. 

Roma rolled off the desk, landing on his feet, his sword pointing at my guts.  Still crouching low, he used his free hand to seize a leg of the desk.  Effortlessly, he lifted the desk by one hand.

Oh, crap!

And flung it at me like swatting a fly.  I ducked under the desk, slashing for his feet with my longer reach.  Only he was gone.  The desk flew over me and crashed into the wall, sliding down, shattering another light.  The psychic force of his killing intent washed over me from behind.  I quarter turned, slanting my sword between us.  His blade scraped mine, narrowly missing my kidney, recoiling like a snake to strike again. 

I used my full speed to flank him.

But he blurred faster, as if he’d been holding back all this time.  Three blows landed within the same moment.  He wrapped my head playfully, punctured my right shoulder, and turned his sword so its flat went across my upper arm.  He punched his own sword which passed the energy onto me, slamming me down the lobby, over to the elevator.

From the
crack
and pain, I knew my arm was broken.  I got my legs under me, kneeling, letting my left hand take up the sword.  Overusing of my magic left me little to call on, so what I needed to do might not work, but I had little choice. 

Roma blurred in to overwhelm and crush me.  I leaped backward, landing in a crouch, my right arm dangling uselessly.  The jar of landing caused a fresh burst of pain from the break.  I ignored it, sidestepping, slashing as he pivoted to follow.  His sword swung up in a short, vicious arc of a block. 

I smiled coldly. 
Got you
!

The sword ghosted out of my hand, springing into the dimensional ether, returning at once in the grip of my will with no chance to go back to the armory.  Roma’s energy carried his sword on, with my weapon inside his guard.   He spun, but fast as he was, my tip pierced his side, sliding through lower ribs.  My foot lashed out in almost the same moment, kicking him off my blade.  He stumbled.  I followed, slashing, ghosting the sword out of the block, slashing his face.  I rained blows, a couple times actually clashing swords so he dare not block. 

I forced him back and back, burning through the vampire speed I’d kindled in my muscles.  I knew I’d only win if I won right now. 

But the demon sword was pissed.  I felt it waking up, resisting me.  Its hell red glow brightened and its song was back, more a screech mixed with a scream.  It knew I was hurt and weak.  It was hungry.  For me.  My hand on the hilt tingled as it tried to drink my soul from our point of contact.

I managed several more come-and-go attacks before I was forced to disarm myself by sending the sword to the armory.  My left hand shot for my shoulder holster.

Roma stopped me with a stab to my good shoulder, and a knee to the nuts.  I went down with a curse, pushed myself up, and caught a fist to the head that nearly took it off.  I swayed down, but came up again, thoughts swimming in a gray sea.  An odd numbness disconnected me from the world.  Several more blows put me down on the floor with darkness sweeping closer.  Clawing at the tiles, I tried to get up, swallowing all the pain I had to.  The grayness receded as my focus returned—too late.

His sword tip caught my chin, lifting it.

A threat?  Or my last moment alive?

“Fine,” his sword retreated, “you can date my daughter.  But break her heart, and I will eat yours.” 

I nodded.  I believed him. 

He kicked my head and the darkness claimed me.

I came back to my senses with every inch of my body in pain.  It was near impossible to focus.  Bursts of light bloomed everywhere I looked.
 
Their dance reminded me I could pass out again at any second.
 
I didn’t like anyone seeing how hurt I was, but it took all my force of will to stagger toward the limo, and not stumble off the curb.  The summer night had finally cooled and was draining my heat like a succubus. 

Osamu discreetly held the back of my left elbow, offering support, opening the car door for me,
something I didn’t normally let him do.  Neither of us said a word.  I liked the fact that his concern stayed silent, something I’d rather not have dealt with.  It’s why I’d told him to come alone.  Vivian would have fussed and scolded—way too much drama for how I felt.

I fell in and he shut the door carefully, as though I must be protected from the sound.  I scrambled over to the bar, but when I grabbed a glass from the mini bar, my hand shook.  I put the glass back, closed my eyes, and just let time dwindle.

Clock’s running.  Not much time left until I’m in the penalty box.

I’d used too much magic, and I still had
to pay for using my
Vampire Speed
tat.  That reckoning had to be close since I’d only had an hour to start with.  I probably didn’t have enough time to get back to Joshua’s place.  I was soon going to wish I was very drunk indeed.

“Osamu?”

“Yes, Caine-sama.”

“I am about to have a fit.  I’ll be tied in knots, and will probably scream a bit.  You may want to roll up the partition.  Pull over and wait until the attack passes.  I’ll be unconscious afterwards.  At that time, continue to the Victorian
, and see that I’m not disturbed until I’ve slept it off.”

Red-hot claws sank into my muscles, stretching them out, knotting them up.  It felt like I’d been turned into putty with every single nerve ending shrieking like a damned soul.  Between waves of agony, I sensed that the vehicle had stopped.  At one point, I dimly sensed Osamu in the back with me.  He didn’t touch me.  I’d have bitten through his hand
, and stabbed him in the eye.  He probably knew that.  He kept guard, composed in utter stillness, waiting.  I’d never thank him for the comfort of his presence.  Such an action would have embarrassed us both. 

Eventually, the pain swirled away, and I drained away with it into sleep.