Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2) (5 page)

Achill
noticed the difficulty and smiled, then turned his attention to me.  “You know what killed my Alpha?”

I nodded.  “Yeah, somehow a wereliger was made.  I’m looking into how.”  There are no hybrids among the wereclans.  What
turns you
dictates what type of werecritter you’ll become, provided you survive the attack.  Most don’t.  The virus that makes you a
shifter
is species specific, immunizing you from becoming any other type.  I’d already ruled out that this wereliger was a child of a lion and tiger shifter.   Shifters can’t have kids.  The regular transformations cause pregnant shifters to miscarry.  Always.

Achill
said, “However he got here, if he’s not going to fill the power vacuum he made, we need to make sure he doesn’t kill the next Alpha I send in.”

“If the wolves are going to give me a lot of trouble,” I said, “It’ll cost extra.”

Old Man finished trying to coax liquor out of my bottle.  He set it down on the bar.

I picked it up and refilled my glass without difficulty.  The obsidian bottle remained full.  G
reatest bottle ever!

Old Man walked
Achill away from the bar, over to the living room furniture that formed an island by the fireplace.  Kimberly and her fey guard followed, leaving me behind.  I started around the bar as the others held a whispered consultation.  Old Man had raised me like a demon; he knew I’d drive a stiff bargain for all I could get.  Greed is our way of life whether it’s for money, women, alcohol, or power—we always want more.  Achill’s first offer would be lowball.  I was sure of it.  Probably just
bling
.  He’d been alive for a long time, so I knew he had a lot more to bargain with.  He’d probably seen entire civilizations rise and fall.  His eyes revealed a dark and ancient soul.

I came around the bar and approached the others.  “Come on, Old Man, what else did the courts cough up?”  He might have been my adopted father, but he was still a demon, holding out was second nature with him.

“They know you’re a dragon mage, so they’re willing to give you scale gauntlets as well, I, ah, would have mentioned that … eventually.”

“What else do you have?” I asked.

Achill spoke up, “And I’m offering stock in my construction company, not more than five percent.”

“Ten percent,” I said.

“Seven,” he countered.

“Okay, give me three days.  I need to rest, plan, and make arrangements for the trouble I’m heading into.”

“No,” Kimberley said.  “Time is critical.  The other fey courts are going to grow suspicious if my Mistress is in seclusion too long.  You need to start right away.  Surely the diamond is incentive enough.”

“One day at least.  If I go unprepared,” I said, “I risk failure.  It’s better to go when I have all my rubber ducks in a row.”

I looked at Haziar behind her.  With his support, I wouldn’t have to wear myself out arguing.  Kimberly was already used to going along with what he needed her to do.  I could take advantage of that.  His eyes were cold, hard as steel—pretty much the same color too.  He might not have ever heard the Old English nursery rhyme I was about to quote, but its logic would be clear to him; he had the feel of a seasoned warrior.

“For want of a nail a
shoe
was lost.
  For want of a shoe a horse was lost.
For want of a horse a rider was lost.             Forwant of a rider the battle was lost...”
 

Our eyes remained locked a few seconds longer, then, grimly, he nodded and stared down at Kimberly, who’d settled in a brass-studded, red leather wingback armchair by the fireplace.  There was no fire burning, no orange light to paint her pale skin.  The chair around her was big, like some bloody maw about to swallow her whole.  Like the marble mantle above the chimney, her face was hard, set, and impervious to fate.  Still, she managed a quality of soft delicacy that inclined men to protect her.  I was not untouched by her vulnerability.  It made me want to drag her off—for a fast and furious fuck.

Haziar leaned against the side of her chair, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.  I think this was his way of telling me the lady was spoken for.  He said, “He’s right.  Let him take the time he needs.  Few situations as bad as ours are salvaged by half-measures.”

Sitting on the couch, Old Man lifted his size-thirteen feet to the coffee table.  His hand made a languid gesture toward our visitors.  “During your mission, they will be staying here.”

I smiled at Kimberley.  “Sure, we’re all friends,” my voice dropped to a mutter, “and consenting adults.”

Kimberley
seemed oblivious to my interest, but her bodyguard scowled, fingering the silver rose pommel of his fey sword. 

Ignoring the new tension in the room, Old Man went on, “
Achill will add to Kimberly’s protection.  She hasn’t
seen
anyone, but has a
feeling
she may have been followed into our world.  If so, we want that attention here in L.A., not following you to Sacramento.”

I nodded.  “Fine, but I don’t want to hear crap about my personal habits.”

I left before anyone could say more.  I had a visit to make before it got too late and Red-Fang closed up shop.  I returned to my room and grabbed the stuffed dragon.  Leona was gone from my bed.  With a strange werewolf in the house, she’d gone invisible and intangible.  Except for Angie, Leona had a jungle cat’s instinctive dislike for werewolves.  If Achill didn’t watch out, he might wake up with her sitting on his chest, eyeing him as dinner—though as a spirit beast she only drank blood.  Still, I was sure he had plenty of that.  It would be
hella
funny if the Old Man forgot to warn her of messing with the Fenris.  Expensive too, repairing the damage they’d cause. 

I went around my bed, past the bedroom windows, to the full-length standing mirror on the wall.  Hidden in curlicues and scrolls were random Atlantean runes.  My fingertips sought out various symbols in a specific order.  To gain a faster, emergency access, I could have warmed up a tat, paying for magic in pain, but urgency wasn’t required.  As I traced the last rune, entering my personal code, the glass surface ghosted away.  I could have stepped through the frame, into my secret vault adjoining the wine cellar in the basement, but I dialed another location, holding it firmly in mind as I stepped through.

Talon City, also known as Underground, appeared around me.  There was no sensation other than what you’d get going from one room to another.  That was because the mirror used its own stored energy to power the transition spell.  The city lay somewhere inside a mountain on Europa, the sixth closest moon of Jupiter.  The streets were smooth granite.  A great shadowed space hung overhead, and beyond that oppressive darkness was a ceiling clawed out of frozen rock.  The street lamps created islands of light with dim murk swimming between.  Deeper darkness lay in the poorer parts of town.  The upper-class establishments furnished stronger lighting to advertise their wares, and discourage thievery. 

The shop I wanted was prosperous, but not pretentious.  Assorted creatures of the night passed Red Fang’s place, few of them casting more than a casual glance at the windows of the tattoo parlor.  I pushed on inside.  A little girl stood on a stool behind the counter so she could reach a wall calendar.  Her back was to me as she scribbled something there, unaware I’d entered.  The shop didn’t need a bell over the door.  It was dragon-owned.  Not even the most stupid criminal would risk running afoul of dragon magic.  Besides, dragons have a reputation for eating thieves.

I’d brought the girl here to be cared for after her mother had been killed.  The killer had been trying to get to me, but it’s not like I felt any guilt.  I’d only shown kindness to the girl because she had dragon blood.  Her being lost, alone, with nowhere else to go had nothing to do with it.  I certainly hadn’t brought the stupid, green, dragon toy because I liked her.  And I wasn’t checking up on her. 

I’m demon-raised after all.  There’s little true humanity left in me.

I threw the stuffed dragon onto the counter and continued to the backroom where I saw Red-Fang cleaning his tattoo guns.  They were disassembled, the pieces on a big metal tray.  He was wiping them down with a cotton cloth.  Rubbing alcohol scented the air.  Behind him sat a metal box the size of a microwave.  Its door yawned open, waiting for the tray.  The sterilizer would finish the cleaning with hot steam.  A book was propped open on a stand. 

  In human form, Red Fang read while working.  Without looking up, he said, “Hi, Caine.”  The old dragon didn’t have to look to see it was me, he could smell the magic he’d put in my skin.  “What brings you here so early?  Your tattoo design isn’t ready yet.  I’m still ironing out the last rune.”

“You can at least tell me what this one will do.”

“Nope, not yet.”  Red-Fang looked past me, yelling toward the front of the shop, “Juliana, bring me the calendar.”

So that’s her name.

She walked past me with the calendar in one hand and the stuffed dragon clutched to her side. 

Red-Fang looked at the toy, and smirked at me.

“What?” I said.  “I had nothing to do with that.  I’m a demon lord, remember?”

Juliana gave him the calendar   He marked a date a few weeks away, and copied the date onto one of his business cards.  I went up and took it for later reference.  He gave the girl back the calendar.  She turned past me, smiling, eyes flicking to my face as she went away. 

I looked back to Red Fang, scowling.  “Shouldn’t she be with your wife at home?  Kids are supposed to play.  Aren’t there child labor laws around here?”

“My wife lets her do whatever she wants, and Juliana likes helping me in the shop.”

“Really?”

“Aggie always wanted a daughter, so she spoils her rotten.  I’m just glad the child actually helps.  You should see my appointment book.  It’s never been so organized.”

I was glad Juliana was doing well, and that my next tat was almost ready.  “All right, Red, I’ll see you later.”

“Later, Caine.”

My business done, I entered the front room.  Hugging her new toy, Juliana ran from behind the counter, stopping in front of me.  She got on tiptoes and pulled my coat for me to bend down.  I did.  She gave me a kiss on the cheek.  “Come back soon.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Leaving, I looked back and saw Red-Fang between rooms.  He’d seen it all.  My bad reputation was in danger.  I snarled, “Red, say one word about this and I’ll kill you dead.”

His face settled into a display of innocence.  “Say a word about what?”

Outside, a couple of water fey bowed out of my way with smiles.  The thought that
Water Court fey still weren’t as afraid of me as I’d like, further pissed me off, but hell, they helped out a lot around L.A. so I let it go. 

Damn, I hope I’m not mellowing with age.  I should probably kill something soon.
  Lots of something.