by Cori Vidae
They nodded to him, and he to them. He took his place at the edge of the ash ring in the middle of the room. Kurleon stepped forward until his toes almost touched the dark line. Beirak struggled up out of a sagging arm chair and waddled over to his spot. The clock read 11:58 a.m. At 11:59, they shed their human skins.
Benji reveled in the melting away of too-soft skin and hair. His scales steamed for a moment after the shedding, releasing their pent-up heat. He stretched luxuriously. His arms and legs lengthened. Leathery wings unfurled from around his ribs. He had to duck a bit to avoid rapping his horns against the ceiling. He uncurled his tail from around his waist and wriggled it experimentally, half-expecting the pins-and-needles sensation he sometimes felt after sleeping wrong on one of his human-skinned arms.
Ah, now he could breathe. It had been far too long since he’d last slipped fully into his own flesh. A stray thought amused him. If he asked Kiki to dance now, would she keep her word? A hollow sensation in his gut seemed to answer, and he sobered quickly.
Kurleon’s scales were copper and varying shades of green. Vibrant orange eyes danced with inner flames. He was just as muscled in his true form as he’d been in his human shell. And, like Benji, he was bigger. Taller. The lower half of his face pushed into a short reptilian snout. A line of copper fur ran down his spine.
Beirak was blue and silver, and larger than either of them. He crouched on all fours, a set of double-horns threatening to bring the ceiling down if he wasn’t careful. Unlike his human shell, his true form didn’t have an ounce of excess fat on it. His scales were ragged and thick with age.
It was little wonder humans called them demons. They looked somewhat like the typical horned, winged, humanoid devils of legend. But the Dromtsiirin were even more frightening, covered in thick, armored hide lined with flickering light that matched their cat-like eyes. Perhaps some of the earliest deals had gone wrong, and humans caught sight of their true forms. Maybe that was how the demon legend was born; they were certainly responsible for the dragon lore.
An oddly-echoing rumble came from the center of the ash ring, drawing Benji from his thoughts. He, Kurleon, and Beirak dipped their heads and began a low, thrumming hum. It rose and fell steadily with their breath. The fiery light lining their scales glowed brighter with each round, until no shadows remained in the room. In the middle of the ring, a swirling, milky yellow smoke appeared. As it expanded, a fine vibration puffed dust from the ceiling and walls.
It took only a moment for the smoke to solidify. Azrulbey, older and more raggedy-scaled than even Beirak, crouched in the ring, wings tucked tight to his sides. With a hide of yellow and gold, he reflected their combined light like a small sun. As the last of the smoke seeped into him, the light around the three waiting Dromtsiirin’s scales dimmed and they ceased their hum.
Azrulbey huffed and shook himself. “To whom are you loyal?” His voice belted out, deep, throbbing inside Benji’s skull.
He and the other two spoke as one. “We are ever loyal to Azrulbey, Master of the Long Mire Under the Five Moons.”
“To whom do you owe the air that you breathe?”
“We owe our life-breath to Azrulbey, Master of the Long Mire Under the Five Moons.”
“To whom do you surrender your soul for safekeeping?”
“We surrender our souls to Azrulbey…”
So it went for long minutes, as lord and legion spoke the ancient words of binding to reassure each of their place in the worlds. When the ritual ended, Azrulbey got right to business.
“Three nights ago, a deal in Madrid unraveled. A rival master sabotaged us, and our investor, Ming Song, barely escaped alive.” Azrulbey snarled. “This rival master is feasting right now, I’m sure, on the unnecessary deaths in Madrid.”
Benji’s stomach clenched. “Will Song pull out of the deal?”
Azrulbey’s eyes blazed. “Not if you do your job. She’s frightened, and in need of reassurance.” The roil of light edging the elder Dromtsiir’s scales slowed. “This disaster may actually work better than any of the pushers I’d planned for this week. But she needs to be calmed before the meeting, or Barron will pick up on her desperation. Kurleon, reassure Barron that he needn’t worry about Song’s troubles back-lashing on the casino.”
Kurleon nodded. Azrulbey turned to Beirak. “Your role will not change; do whatever is necessary to keep both parties interested and subservient. Benjiishnael—” Benji ignored the racing of his heart at the sharp tone. “—Kiki is to take a more active role. Song remembers the Tiki Lounge, and Kiki, from years ago. The two of them got on well before. I will suggest to Song that she meet with her old friend the day before the meeting to unburden her worries. You are to ensure that no one bothers them, and if Kiki needs a push to remember that Barron is her friend, too, and that he stands to lose a lot if this deal falls through, you push. Understand?”
Benji nodded.
“Good. I have plans for you in Vegas after this job is through.” Azrulbey leaned forward, teeth bared. “Remember who you are, Benjiishnael. Kiki is your boss, not your lover. A distracted bodyguard is a dead one. Don’t make me replace you with the deal so near at hand.”
Benji stiffened. The light edging his scales roiled brighter. Someone saw him dancing with Kiki last night, and concluded it was more than friendship. Who cared enough to tell Azrulbey? There weren’t actually any rules against it, after all. A shimmer of silvery light caught his eye, and Beirak’s mouth curved in a vicious smile. Wretched wyrm! “Master, I thought I was to return to Dromtsuul when this deal was complete.”
Ice whipped through Benji’s skull, knocking him to his hands and knees. His vision wavered. Azrulbey hadn’t moved a muscle, but his eyes blazed white. His calm voice countered the searing pain in Benji’s head.
“You may return to Dromtsuul when I no longer have need of you here,” Azrulbey said. “Your bounty has been cleared, but remember who cleared it for you. If this or any future deals fall through because of you, I will not be so forgiving again.”
“Yes, Master,” Benji gasped. “I am yours to command.”
The pain relented, leaving him weak-limbed and trembling on the floor. Azrulbey moved on, updating them on the pushers aimed at Barron. Then he left, and they re-skinned themselves.
Benji escaped upstairs and pulled on his clothes in the bathroom. When he came out, he found Kurleon shrugging into his jacket in the kitchen.
“I don’t know how you do it,” the other bodyguard commented.
“Do what?”
Kurleon arched a thick eyebrow at him. “Kiki. Unless it’s been going on for a long time. I’ve heard we start to lose our senses after a while. Start thinking humans taste and smell good. That it’s addicting. Some Dromtsiirin never return home; they spend their lives hunting down their next human toy.”
Benji ground his teeth. “Kiki’s not a… We’re not together. Not like that. She’s my boss, and a friend. That’s all.”
Kurleon smothered a grin. “Of course.”
Benji flipped him off and slipped into the bright sunlight outside. He had a town to patrol and weekend tourists to scrutinize for threats. He didn’t have time to worry about ridiculous presumptions about his relationship with his ward.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sundays were Kiki’s only day off. She usually spent her free time out and about and favored the weekend markets that frequently closed Main Street. Benji liked them, too, because they provided the easiest cover for tracking her.
He feigned interest in a display of sports merchandise, careful to keep her in his peripheral vision. She stood in the sun several stalls away, chatting with a young couple selling hand-made pottery. Her face was bright and animated. She waved her hands for emphasis. Her ponytail bounced against her shoulders.
He scanned the street for thralls again, thankful for the dark sunglasses that hid his eyes. His breath caught when the tell-tale smoke of a spell-bound soul appeared at the end of the street. This time it was a woman who looke
d to be in her twenties. She unloaded a stroller from her mini-van and bundled a small child into it. He couldn’t tell from here if she wore the dazed expression of a thrall nearing their mark or not.
Benji decided not to chance it. He casually strolled over to Kiki. “Hey, Kee.”
Her face lit up when she saw him. “Hi, Benji! I didn’t expect to see you here. Seems a bit too crowded for your tastes.”
“Yeah. But I saw the books and couldn’t resist.” He pointed at the tiny table at the opposite end of the street from the enthralled mother. “I was headed that way when I saw you.”
“Mind if I join you? I need something new to read, too.”
“Not at all.”
Relief flooded through Benji as they moved toward the book table. Kiki peered up at him as they walked. It reminded him of how she’d tilted her face up to him as they danced. He swallowed. She grinned wider. The table seemed very far away.
He wanted to look behind them to track the thrall, but Kiki bumped her shoulder against his arm. “So, what’s a big, tough guy like you read, anyway?”
“Um. Histories, mainly. Documentaries. Mystery, if it’s not predictable.” He risked a glance behind them. The young mother had stopped at a flower stand. She wasn’t looking in their direction. “What about you?”
“Oh, I’m a fantasy-adventure kinda gal, mostly. But I can’t resist a good romance. And by good, I mean naughty.”
Benji laughed, not so much surprised by the fact that she liked erotica but that she so gleefully admitted it. He’d seen her reading books that he was sure fell into that category while watching her from his own darkened windows. The way she’d suddenly grin, wide-eyed, or bite her lower lip and squirm told him all he needed to know. He wondered idly what her lip would feel like between his teeth.
Stop it. They’d reached the book stand. “Lucky you,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “Naughty romances are on sale. Happy hunting.” He lurched toward the stack of local histories as if it were air and he were drowning. He thought he heard Kiki snort softly. He focused on the books, hoping to find something he hadn’t read several times already. A hardback about local folklore caught his eye. He thumbed through it slowly, stealing occasional glances up the street.
The woman with the stroller was closer now. She inspected fruits at a produce stand with a frown. As if sensing him watching her, the woman turned and met his gaze.
Benji’s breath went out of him. Her eyes were empty. He didn’t need to lower his second lids to know the spell marks around her head would be flashing. She started toward him, leaving her toddler behind. Her lips parted, slack. The produce vendor called after her. She ignored him.
“Hey, Kee,” Benji said, turning partway toward her. She had two paperbacks under one arm as she paged through a third. She looked up, but her attention went past him. Her jaw dropped. He whipped around, stepping in front of her automatically. His hands fisted.
But no attack came. The enthralled woman pressed up against a startled-looking man beside a coffee stand. Her lips worked heatedly against his. Her hands slid over him as if they were the only people on the street. The man tried to disentangle himself, but it only spurred the woman on. She moaned. People moved back from them uneasily.
Beside them, another woman—the man’s wife, by the looks of it—stood slack-jawed and trembling. She turned accusing eyes to her husband. He renewed his efforts to escape, but the damage had been done. She snarled something at him. He managed to shove the strange woman away and protested. His wife pointed at his crotch and bared her teeth, then turned on her heel and stormed away.
Seconds later, the enthralled woman gasped, horror twisting her features as the spell faded. Her lipstick was badly smeared. The man backed away and snapped at her, “Who the fuck are you?”
She flinched. Tears glistened in her eyes. The man gave her a disgusted look and strode after his wife. The woman looked around, dazed. A hiccupping sob escaped her. For a moment, nobody moved. Then an older woman with a kind face approached her. Speaking softly, she led the crying mother through shocked onlookers to her stroller.
Benji startled when Kiki spoke beside him. “The hell was all that about?”
He shrugged. “Beats me.” But it didn’t. He knew, or knew enough. Someone wanted the man and his wife to suffer. The twenty-something mother was only a means to an end. Now that she’d served her purpose, she was left to puzzle together this unpleasant experience alone. It was cruel. Perhaps she’d been meant to suffer, too.
“What were you going to say, before?” Kiki tilted her head at him, frowning. The scene had clearly disturbed her, and she was reaching for something normal to move past it.
Benji hesitated. He’d been about to warn her about a possibly dangerous woman headed their way. What could he say now? He glanced up at the storefront beside them. His stomach flip-flopped.
“I, um… I was going to see if maybe you’d like to have coffee with me?”
He immediately wished he could take the invitation back. What the hell was he thinking? He shouldn’t be encouraging the interest she’d shown in him. Not if he wasn’t actually going to make the attempt at more than friendship with her. That thought teased him, putting unhelpful images in his head that somehow didn’t seem so bad when Kiki was involved. He scolded himself internally. Not that it matters. She’s your boss; that sort of thing isn’t allowed.
But she surprised him again. Her smile turned shy and she bit her lip. “Yeah. That would be nice.”
CHAPTER SIX
Benji carried two drinks carefully. He wove around elbows and purses and stepped over laptop cords with the natural grace of the Dromtsiirin. He stopped short as a woman shoved her chair into his path, too caught up in her irritatingly loud phone conversation to realize he was there. Hot liquid threatened to slosh out and scald his fingers, but he managed to avoid it.
Kiki was grinning behind one hand when he reached their table in the corner. Her eyes danced. He almost spilled the drinks then anyway. Tearing his gaze from hers, he placed the cappuccino in front of her and slid into his seat. The cup rattled only minutely as he settled his chai latte on the table.
“Thanks,” she said.
He nodded, then cleared his throat. He’d never been good at small talk. It was one thing to chat a bit after work to unwind from the stress of the day, but he felt put on the spot like this. Even if he’d read her wrong and she didn’t want more than friendship, he’d never been friends with a human before. He had no idea how to begin.
Kiki seemed almost as uncertain as he did. He’d never seen her so subdued. She wouldn’t hold his gaze for more than a second, and her smile flickered between shy and amused. She ran her fingers over the cover of the top book in the stack of five she’d purchased.
Desperate, Benji blurted out, “What books did you get?” Right. Because getting her thinking about erotica is a great way to steer her away from the direction this seems to be heading. He mentally kicked himself.
She smirked and pushed the paperbacks toward him. He glanced at the covers, silently horrified to see bare, muscled chests and dangerously low-riding waistlines. The titles alone were entertaining, promising heavenly lust and unrepentant conquering. But the last one… he arched an eyebrow at her. “You’re into supernatural smut?”
“Werewolves and vampires are hot,” she said. “Every woman needs the occasional savage tryst now and again. It can’t all be sweet-nothings and declarations of undying love.”
Just like that, her mojo was back. She chuckled as he gaped at her. He struggled to come up with any response at all while she sipped her drink and watched him.
“That’s… good. I mean, that you’re open-minded. That you know what you want. And don’t want.” He snapped his mouth shut, cursing internally.
Kiki put her hand on his. “Relax, Benji.” Her laugh lines crinkled. “Tell me about the book you got.”
Mercy, at last. He reached for the heavy hardback and opened it, rifling through the pages ran
domly. “It’s just a bunch of folklore from the surrounding areas. Ghost stories, some Native American legends, unsolved mysteries. That sort of thing.”
“I love unsolved mysteries. Especially creepy backwoods ones involving ghosts and aliens.”
For a moment, he thought she was joking. But the gleam in her eye said otherwise. “You believe in aliens?”
She nodded. “I believe in the possibility of lots of things. I think there are worlds out there we know nothing about, and sometimes things cross over somehow.” She shrugged. “That, or it’s killer robots escaped from secret government labs.” The twitch of her lips said she was messing with him this time.
He licked his lips. “Or demons.”
She didn’t hesitate. “Nasty buggers, those. Give you anything you want, and all it’ll cost you is your ever-lasting soul.”
He hoped his laugh sounded happier than it felt. They sipped their drinks in silence for a few minutes. Then Kiki leaned forward, her face serious again. “Benji, why exactly did you ask me to have coffee with you?”
He swallowed his chai harder than he intended to. It hurt. She continued before he could think of an answer. “Because sometimes I get the feeling we’re just friends. But then other times, I think maybe there’s something more. I can’t read you like I can most people. And I don’t want to be mistaken, one way or the other.”
She looked about to say more, but stopped. Benji stared at her, his heart stumbling. Here was his chance to back out, to rebuild the wall he’d placed between himself and humanity.
He wanted to run. He should run. But he also wanted to stay, speak with the one human he didn’t loathe; the only soul who’d shown him any real kindness in decades. He couldn’t decide which desire was stronger, and that frightened him. He couldn’t stop staring at her lips. The lower one caught absently between her teeth again.
He set his cup down and made himself meet her eyes. “I enjoy your company, Kiki. You make me—”