Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2) (31 page)

BOOK: Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2)
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The feel of a female presence woke me up.  The scent of lavender with an undertone of pheromones was a pleasant way to wake up from a nap.  I didn’t have to open my eyes to know who it was.  Vivian was here.  With Izumi fresh in mind, it was hard not to get horny, but we had work to do, and killing is just as much fun.  I did take a moment to stare down Vivian’s shirt as she hung just above me, staring into my face.

“I know you want me, but you’ll just have to be patient,” I said.

“Ass.”

“Thanks for the offer, but like I said…”  

Growling, she withdrew.  I followed her out of the limo, pulling myself together as I did so.  We were at gas a station that was closed for the night.  The line of gas pumps stood silent watch.  Fourteen feet up, a metal canopy shielded us from the night sky.  I looked at my phone for the time.  Make that the early morning sky.  Dawn was still hours away, but a new day of bloodshed had arrived.  That thought made me happy.  There were a few other business in view, all of them dark, slumbering.  An asphalt road came in on a straightaway, passed us, and shot away into a curve.  I recognized this place.  The wolf compound wasn’t far.

The night air was cold and bracing, waking me up a little more.  The tree leaves murmured in a breeze.  Somewhere, two cats yowled in fury, or lover’s passion.  Those two are sometimes hard to tell apart.

As I shut the car door, headlights knifed my way.  A red Ford F-150 pickup truck with extended cab pulled in behind the limo.  The driver was the wrinkled old Indian who’d treated Vivian.  Charlie Darkcloud still wore the yellow-and-brown checkered shirt with pearl snaps, and much faded jeans.  His spill of iron gray hair was bound in back.  The bolo tie and scuffed boots completed his look. 

The fey healer he traveled with exited the cab.  She was still a hot redhead with ice-pale skin, but her dress of bright blue and silver heels were history.  Or she’d changed her glamour’s projected image.  She now wore a black pantsuit with gold piping and black, Renaissance fair style lace-up
boots.
  
It might be that I had yet to see her true form, but I thought her inhuman eyes were real—a sign of vanity.  Rusty-gold with midnight blue, horizontal-slit pupils, her stare raked Vivian like a withering challenge. 

I heard the soft growl that wavered deep in Vivian’s throat as she returned the glare.

Josh and Kat emerged from the back seat of the extended cab, moving past the shaman and his fey companion to join us.  I became aware that Osamu stood just behind my right shoulder.  He was good at moving when no eyes were on him, producing the effect that he was teleporting freely.  I think it was a game, him seeing if he could startle me.  I made a point of disappointing him.

I looked at Kat, then Josh.  “I thought you wanted her to stay out of danger.”

Josh’s western drawl deepened as he answered, “When I’m heading into danger, she insists on tagging along, at least partway.  You’d almost think she loved me.”

Kat smacked him in the arm.  “Big lugs can be such idiots.  Well, he’s not going to die on my watch.”

Even in human form, Josh dwarfed her.  The idea that a former PRT agent turned wereliger would need the little shape-shifter to protect him, made me smile.  I wiped the expression away as Kat looked at me.  Severe expression in place, I nodded gravely.  “I can’t imagine what he’d do without you.”

“Let’s not find out.”  Josh placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, peering down into her face.  “I said you could come this far.  You’re staying here where I don’t have to worry about you while I’m stomping wolves.”

“But Josh—”

He shut her up with a kiss then pulled back.  “You’re carrying our child.  You can’t take chances.”

She frowned, grouchiness adding furrows to her forehead.  “All right, all ready.  I’ll stay put.  You just be extra careful.  Wolves are treacherous, evil bastards you know.”

“Amen,” Vivian murmured.

Wolves were the dominant shape-shifting species.  They were used to throwing their weight around with a vengeance.  I wasn’t surprised they were generally despised.  Of course—I thought of loveable, sexy Angie as I’d last seen her sprawled naked in my bed—there were exceptions. 

Josh shuddered, fuzzing with golden fur.  His clothing ripped to tatters as muscles exploded in an orgy of growth that would leave him starving.  Kat stayed by his side, but the rest of us backed away to give him plenty of room.  Soon, liger replaced man.  I could still see intelligence in his eyes, but it was joined by a predatory spirit.  He hugged Kat, sniffing her hair, then eased her back.

The fey healer joined arms with Kat, tugging her toward my limo. “Come, dear. We might as well be comfortable while we wait.”

We walked for the road.  Osamu and Charlie strolled on my right.  Vivian was on my left.  Beyond her, the liger went to all fours and still stood taller than a man, shambling on my left.  The white-on-gold stripes in his fur became harder to see as we left the awning of the garage for the gloom of the road.  His tail lashed with growing excitement.  A streetlight up ahead gave us a target, an island of light through which we’d be passing.  The road climbed a little and curved from sight beyond that.  A cold sigh of wind came along, as if curious ghosts were keeping us company.

I said, “As we get to the dirt road turn off, I’ll shield us with dragon magic so we can get the element of surprise.”

We passed through the light, rounded the bend, and approached the drive.  I was about to pay the price in pain that my dragon magic required when the stench of old blood hit me, lots of it.  The smell reminded me of the dead pooka we’d found along the river.  I had the feeling that someone had spoiled all my fun, beating us to the wolves.  I hurried.  “Come on, we need to see if there are any survivors to interrogate.”

“Survivors?  Not likely.”  Charlie looked ahead where two small cabins displayed broken windows, shattered doors, and splintered porch rails.  Scattered wolves lay on the road, body parts soaked in blood.  Torsos were ripped open, gaping. 

I recognized the woman sentry from my earlier meeting.  If she’d died fighting as a wolf, death had returned her humanity.  Her face was unmarred, oddly peaceful, open eyes staring into infinity.  The claw marks on her body were deep and ragged.

“Bear claws,” Charlie said.  “The Spirit Bear did this.”

“Might still be here,” Vivian added.

Osamu’s demon sword materialized in his hand.  “One can only hope.”

I frowned at him.  “I was going to say that.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWENTY-TWO

 

“Ashes, ashes, fall down and die!”

 

                                             —Caine Deathwalker

 

I nodded for Vivian and Charlie to take the left, and Josh the right.  Our job was to kill the bear.   Osamu stayed just behind me; his job was to keep me alive.  Moving as a unit, we followed the dirt road past granite outcroppings and gnarled oaks.  The compressed soil revealed the same massive prints we’d seen at the pooka massacre.  Past the screen of oaks, the big house looked untouched.  The liger sniffed toward the structure.  Vivian looked that way as well.

“Still smells of old death,” she said.  “If there’s fresh death, the smell’s being masked.”

“Fresh or old, we still need to check it out.  A wolf might have gone in there to hide, hoping he wouldn’t be found by the bear.”

The liger led the way.  I could have boosted my strength and kicked the front door in, but we had the liger for heavy lifting.  He simply surged through the door, letting it shatter around him like something made from glue and Popsicle sticks.  He vanished into the dark interior, big but silent on his feet.  Osamu squeezed in to go ahead of me, but I at least beat Vivian and Charlie across the threshold.  The sweet smell of maggoty decay and metallic tang of rotting blood formed a dusty miasma.  I covered my lower face with an arm, trying to breathe shallowly.  My eyes were tearing.  I was suddenly no longer happy with my new heightened senses.

“Caine-sama, the smell is quite awful.”

The liger grunted agreement.

The living room was a scene from hell.  Drop cloths were everywhere, on carpet and furniture.  Blood splattered the plastic sheets.  There were heavy ceiling beams overhead.  Chains had been thrown over them, chains ending in massive meat hooks like a slaughterhouse might use.  A dozen naked bodies, mostly young girls, hung on the hooks.  The dead flesh carried the taint of vampires—at least two or three—who’d been feeding on them.  There were fang marks along all the major arteries.  From the expressions on the faces of the dangling bodies, they’d been alive and drenched in horror up to the moment blood loss and shock killed them.

“Wolves have been dealing with outsiders,” I said.  “Probably trying to bring in vamps to counter the dhampyr lock on the city.”

“Stupid,” Charlie said.  “Once the dhampyr were gone, the vamps would build their strength until they could dominate the wolves and everyone else.  Vamps never share power with other preternaturals, not for long.”

“Quick sweep,” I called.  “Search everywhere.  Yell if you need backup.  We’ll regroup out back.”

The carpet squished underfoot.  Bloody lumps were kicked up as everybody charged off.  I didn’t look too close at those lumps, having a good idea that they were pieces of bodies.  There were splatters of blood on the walls and hand smears that looked like attempts at modern art.  Stumbling over the spokes of a broken chair, I staggered into a kitchen, seeing several corpses on the counters, the flesh thick with wiggling white worms.  A severed arm lay on the stovetop.  This was no clean hack.  The limb looked torn off by brute force. 

Elsewhere, bodies had voided in dying increasing the awfulness of the stench.  I picked up a barstool from the breakfast bar and slung it out a big window to let in some fresh air.  That accomplished, I went to take a quick look in the pantry.  Sliding a folding door to the side allowed a pack of rats to escape, streaking past me.  Inside, I saw half a dozen bodies, eyes dead, skin gray.  They’d been chewed on and were decomposing so delightfully.  From the threadbare, stained clothing—and what I could make out of their features—these were homeless derelicts, both men and women.

There was a small child’s corpse wearing dirty jeans and a once bright pink tee shirt.   Her intestines had been ripped out.  A hole in her chest was where her tiny heart should have been.  She’d been someone’s toy. 

I backed away, retracing my steps to the living room.  I searched a few more rooms and found no dead wolves.  Whatever had happened here before our last visit had created a strong aversion.  Even facing death, they hadn’t tried to hide in here. 

As I headed for the back door, Charlie joined me, a handkerchief held across his lower face.  Osamu was right outside.  Vivian and the liger were a little farther away, bodies tense, scanning the area, sniffing the air for some trace of the bear.

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