Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2) (15 page)

She and Terri were bouncing up and down, claws absently digging into me.  I was forced to grab them rather firmly to settle them down. 
Hmmmm.  Thirty-two C and thirty-four B cups.

The kitchen door opened inward.  A broad-shouldered blond stood backlit by the sun.  He wore a red and white checked shirt with pearl snaps, faded jeans, and worn hiking boots.  His sleeves were rolled to the elbows.  His forearms showed that he knew what to do with barbells.  His tawny eyes swept across me and the two werekitties I clutched, over to Osama.  The stranger’s stare stopped cold on the katana.

The stranger shuddered, swelling in the doorway.  His torso rippled, muscles clumping, thickening.  Already big, he became bigger.  Baring white fangs, he emitted a coughing grunt that possessed echoes of pain.   Such a fast and radical change had to produce extreme agony.  Golden fur sprouted, covering him.  There were faint white tiger stripes in the fur.  His face flowed like wax, becoming lion-like with a broad, flat nose and receding forehead. 

Oh, crap, the liger!

TEN

Hell hath no fury like a pissed off liger.

                                               
—
Caine Deathwalker

The liger’s topaz eyes filled with rage and murder.  His clothing tore away as his change bent him to all fours, hands becoming claw-tipped paws.  Though no longer standing as a man, his head was a good two feet above anyone else’s in the room.  His leg bones melted, remolded, hardening again with greater mass.  The rampant cellular growth was going to leave him hungry. 

Very hungry.
 
Not good.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I said.

I’m
w
asting my words.  There probably isn’t enough human mind for him to understand me—or care.

The girls in my arms were still, staring in fearless fascination at the liger.  It wasn’t that they were too dumb to be terrified.  They were cats too.  Part of the Cat Clan.  Like Kat, they were safe. 
Too bad Osamu and I can’t say the same thing
.

I warmed a tat.  Pain knifed through my guts as I paid for protective magic, a smoky red half-shell of light that hung between me and the beast.

A blur of gold, the liger lunged past me.

Osamu whirled away, his demon sword slashing the air, its
thrum
keening louder in hunger.  The dark red garnets and yellow tiger’s eye of the blade streaked the air with light.  Blood sprayed, fanning the air, falling across the tiled floor and the prep table.  Like the lettuce, the French bread looked mortally wounded, in need of bandages.

The liger’s roar shook the house.  His right arm was slashed forearm to shoulder.

Lucky as hell, Osamu got off with a ripped shirt.  Had the liger struck his flesh, more blood would have flown, bones would have shattered; Osama would have been flung against a far wall like a rag doll.

Stopping just outside my barrier, Osama turned to face the liger, sword braced in a two-handed grip, a little bit of space separating his hands on the hilt.

The liger turned to us, keeping Kat safely at his back.  The free-flowing blood from his arm dried up as the wound closed with supernatural speed.

I felt a rub at my ankle and looked down to see the Siamese.  He peered up at me and made a hungry mewling sound.

The liger’s fierce golden stare dropped to the cat.  Tension bled from his body as he relaxed.  He seemed to trust the judgment of the cat, making no attempt to renew hostility.  Kat came up behind him, caressing his back, riffling his mane as he lowered his face to hers, drinking in her scent.

The previous change ran in reverse.  Just as he returned to human form, my barrier flickered out, letting me know I was safe.

“Just a misunderstanding,” Kat murmured.  “They’re friends of friends.”

Joshua Kent wrapped his arms around Kat, holding her for a long moment before releasing her
, all-the-while never taking his eyes off me. 

The girls I held studied his naked anatomy with polite interest.  He was Kat’s, but that only meant they couldn’t touch.  Terri shook me off and reached into a pocket for a phone.  She did an internet search, then punched in a new number, ordering a dozen pizzas for delivery.  After two quick changes, we all knew the liger would need the calories. 

I looked at the blood-drenched lettuce and bread.  Oddly, my hunger was undiminished.  A buried part of me stirred, licking its lips.  That felt weird, even for me.

Cleo pulled away from me, picked up the Siamese, and carried him over to his food bowl by the pantry.  She opened the doors and rummaged, coming back out with a ten pound bag of dry food.  As she shook some out, a second Siamese ran into the kitchen, up to the bowl for her share.

Osamu flicked his wrists and the demon sword vanished into thin air, returning to my treasure room back in Malibu.

“Good job,” I said.  “You managed not to die.”

“Thank you, Caine-sama.”

Joshua padded to the fridge.  He opened it and grazed from various shelves, tearing into cold chicken, apples, guzzling a half gallon of milk like it was nothing.  He paused long enough to call over his shoulder to Kat, “Would you mind getting me some clothes, we have strangers in the house.

“On it.”  She hustled between Osama and me, heading back to the living room.  I listened to her run up a flight of steps to the second floor.

Joshua turned toward us, an armful of food pinned against his chest so it couldn’t get away.  His gaze raked Osamu and me.  Chomping on a celery stick, he asked, “Who are you guys anyway?”

I smiled.  “Caine Deathwalker.  You might have heard of me.”

He grunted and swallowed the food in his mouth.  “I’ve read your file.”

I narrowed my eyes.  “You’re law enforcement?  Feds?”

“One-time Texas Ranger.  One-time PRT.  One-time human.”  He rounded the island so it was between us.  On his side of the prep area, there were a couple barstools.  He set his food down and seated himself.  Reaching across the table, he picked up a sealed package of Colby cheese slices.  I was surprised he took the time to separate the little paper dividers between slices, and didn’t just shove the whole thing in his mouth.

Osamu picked up the contaminated food and tossed it.  Items still in their sealed packaging, he washed off and returned to the island.

“Texas Ranger?  I’ve been to
Texas,” I said.  “I know some PRT agents down that way.”  I remembered Cassie, a hot kitsune bitch with an attitude and a half.  I knew her daughter Grace as well.  She owed me for starting a barroom brawl that helped her out while on a mission—a favor I was in no hurry to collect since it would mean another trip to the Lone Star state.

Josh studied me across the island, slowing his gorging.  “Names,” he said.

I mentioned a few he should know, “Cassie, Virgil Langley…”

A surprised look flashed across the liger’s leathery face.  “Cassie?  She never mentioned you.”

I smiled.  “There are times I use fictitious names.  Don’t ask why.”

Kat returned, handing Josh a pile of clothing including a pair of canvas shoes.  “Here you go.”

Osamu fished a wallet and some keys off the floor by the back door and brought it over.  “I believe these are yours as well.”

Josh nodded his thanks, then gave my butler a quick once-over.  “Hey, what happened to that sword?”

His face betrayed no emotion.  Osamu said, “It went away.”

“Osamu,” I said.

He cast me an inquiring glance.  “Yes, Caine-sama?”

“Go give Vivian a call.  See how she’s making out.”

“Yes, Caine-sama.”  He strode away, stiff with dignity.

Kat stared at me.  “You’ve got yet another girl traveling with you?”

I said, “I’m here to pull the preternatural communities together and head off open warfare that could betray us all to the human world.  As a dhampyr, Vivian can get me in to see those of her kind.”

Josh nodded, shooting Kat a fast look that spoke volumes.  He said, “That tells me what you’re doing here with werecats from
L.A.  You figured that would give you an in with me as well.”

I shrugged.  “It’s nothing I’m trying to hide.”

As Josh dressed, Kat went to the fridge and found a bottle of white wine.  She brought it back on a tray with crystal glasses.  “Go on into the living room.  You boys can do the rest of your talking there while I clean up this mess.”

Josh looked at the white wine and suppressed a shudder.

Kat frowned at him.  “I’ll get you a beer.”