Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2) (35 page)

She scowled.  “Yeah, and inconvenient little me was left to be raised by the Slayers.  You never tried to be part of my life, to help me understand the hunger and darkness that raged inside.  All I am, I forged without you.  We are enemies.”

He sat back on the table, swinging one foot in a small circle, crossing his arms defensively across his chest.  “And yet you’ve never tried to hunt me down.  Even now, you could drag out a dozen weapons hidden on your person and go for my unbeating heart, but you don’t.”

“Where you’re concerned,” Vivian said, “I admit I’m not entirely rational.”

“See,” he smiled, “that gives us common ground.  Give it another fifty or sixty years, and you might actually consider forgiving me.”

She snorted softly.  “When Hell sells ice cream.”

Roma laughed at that.

It seemed like we’d wandered too off track. 
Time to get what Intel I can
.  I butted in, “Roma, what do you know about the dream stone?”

His smile died.  “Why would I care about something I cannot use?  To employ the fey relic, one must have a soul that can dream.  One must have a soul.  Regretfully, I cannot help you.”

I know when I’m being lied to.  With master vampires, that’s all the time.  Sure, vamps can’t use the dream stone—directly—but they can control others.

A thrall of some sort or a dhampyr can use the stone for Roma.  That’s probably what’s going on here.  Time to bail; I’ve got all I’m going to.

I slanted Vivian a meaningful glance, “Well, this has almost been fun, but we’ve gotta go.”

“So soon?”  Though his humanity had been lost centuries ago, Roma sounded genuinely sad.  He was good at keeping the monster he was from peeking out his eyes. 

I took a step back, then another, wanting distance before I turned my back on him.  Vivian followed.  Another step and we pivoted, heading for the sliding glass doors we’d come through.

And there was Roma, as if he’d always been waiting behind us.

Vivian and I stopped awkwardly.  I reached for my demon sword, bringing it to me with a thought.  On reflex, she’d drawn both an electric stun baton and a combat knife. 

But Roma held still, offering her a business card.  “If you need anything from me, call.  If I am down for the day, my people will act in my stead.”

She used the hand holding her knife to take the card from him.  I knew she didn’t want it.  I also knew she took it for me.  We’d probably need to pin Roma down before all this was over.

He turned toward me, eyeing the sword in my hand.  One of his eyebrows rose.  “A
Muramasa.  Impressive, if you can use it without losing your soul.”

“Not a Muramasa,
the Muramasa,
his last and greatest.”  I kept my focus on Roma’s chin.  “As for using it, I
am
the Red Moon Demon.”

“I’m glad you have that,” Roma said.  “You take good care of my little Princess.  Something happens to her, I’ll be highly disappointed.”

Vivian rolled her eyes, and stomped off in her stiletto heels.  I followed.  When several yards separated me from Roma, I flicked my wrist, releasing the sword.  It ghosted away, returning to my armory back in Malibu.  Vivian waited for me inside the main restaurant.  The chefs were cleaning up their stations.  The waitresses were gone with the patrons, having followed my order to get out.  The manager was interrogating the hapless hostess, wanting to know what happened to the rest of the staff.

By the elevator, Josh and Kat studied the bubbling water tanks.  Inside, the lobsters had rubber-bands on claws, bobbing their stalk-eyes with grave concern, and possibly fear for heir lives.  From the feral lust on Kat’s face, that fear was warranted.  She looked ready to scoop out a couple crustaceans and eat them raw.  Josh pulled a couple large bills from his wallet and waved the money in the air.

His spider-sense tingling, the manager cut off mid-tirade, heading for the couple.  Vivian and I got there about the same time.

Josh held out the cash with one hand, pointing at a tank with the other.  “I need some of these to go.”

“Alive?” the manager asked.

“Better flavor that way,” Kat said.

The manager pasted on a strained smile and plucked the bills from Josh’s hand.  “I’ll find you a bucket or something.”  He scurried off.

Josh turned to me.  “I smell vamps.”

“Three,” I said, “outside.  One’s Vivian’s … uh, sperm donor.”

“We’re letting them go?” Josh asked.

I knew the vamps above the sliding door could hear us.  I spoke for their benefit, but shook my head no.  “Sure, I’m a live and let live guy.  Some of my best friends are blood-sucking fiends.”

“Gloria is not a fiend,” Vivian said.

I looked at her.  “A surprising thing for a Slayer to say.”

Vivian shrugged.  “She
once did Granddad and me a favor, so we’d owe the bitch.”

“I’d like to hear that story sometime, but the night is still young, and we have things to do.”

“What things,” Vivian asked.

The manager returned with a big, black plastic bucket.  He scooped out four of the lobsters and dumped them in, handing the bucket to a gleeful Kat.

I nodded toward the elevator.  “Not here.”

Josh hit the call button.  Once the doors opened, we crowded on.  The doors closed and we began to descend.  I lunged around the car like a crazy blind man, feeling everywhere.  “It’s just us,” I said.

“Who else would  it be?” Kat asked.

“There was an unseen presence on the roof, someone magically concealing their presence.  You guys are going home.  I’m going to wait in the lobby and tail Roma’s party when they leave.” 

“They’ll see you,” Vivian said.  “And if you’re on foot, when they jump in a car?”

“I’ll jack whatever I need,” I said.  “As for being seen, or sensed, I’ve got a plan that may even pierce the illusion of our unseen traitor.”  My money was on Mason.

“Better be a hell of a plan,” Josh said.  “But I understand.  All of us following them in the limo would hardly be low profile.”

The doors opened.  We stepped into the lobby and I sent everyone off.  Vivian went last, lingering to touch the side of my face with her hand.  “Be careful,” she said, “or I’ll kick your head up your ass.”

The elevator doors closed and the car started up.  Someone else was coming down.

Alone for the moment, I contemplated my next move.  There was a risk—and there would be a hell of a drain on my life force—but I thought I could combine my
Demon Wings
and my
Dragon Sight
tats to cloak my presence and boost my power to pierce the dream stone’s distortion zone.  Even if I lost the vamps, there was a good chance I’d make a visual ID on the unseen presence.  That would be a big step forward.

I warmed up the tats, hoping dragon magic and demon magic would play nice.  Pain like the end of the world doubled me over as my muscles burned and cramped, wringing me out.  The pain passed and I straightened as the elevator arrived.

And no one came out.

Wait, I see something
.  A blurry patch of air moved past.  I lurched along, hurrying to catch up as misty details began to fill in.  Excitement mounted as I realized I was seeing a very nice female shape from behind. 

Definitely not Mason.  If I can just get closer, I think I can make her out.

Steps sounded behind me and I realized there had been someone else on the elevator.  Someone tackled me to the tiles. 

The woman burst out the door and vanished. 

Dammit.

I slammed an elbow back and hit someone in the face. 

Next thing I knew, I was being picked up bodily and tossed into a wall.

TWENTY-FIVE

“A meeting of minds doesn’t satisfying

as much as the pummeling of fists.”

                                             —Caine Deathwalker

“Get up, boy,” the familiar voice lashed at me.  “I want to see what you’re made of.”

Roma?  Well, who else did I think it was?

My back hurt, but pain was an old friend.  I played at being hurt worse than I was, trying to create an advantage.  In front of me, the green and white tiles were littered with frosted glass from a wall-sconce light that I think I’d shattered.  Groaning, I levered myself to my knees and pushed to my feet.  I stared across the lobby, but saw no master vampire.

Then my attention caught a misty distortion in the air—a man-shaped distortion.  I put a hand against the wall, as if I needed to steady myself, using the time to drop my
Demon Wings
magic since it was clearly not doing its job against the power of the dream stone, which was rapidly getting further away.  I released my Dragon Sight too since I didn’t figure it would help much here. 

In their place, I activated the
Vampire Speed
tats on my legs.  There was no sensation of pain.  The high cost of the metabolism boost would be paid for in an hour with crippling cramps, utter exhaustion, and complete vulnerability.  I’d need to be some place safe by then. 
The clock’s running.