Crimson Sword Stalker (Demon Lord Book 10)

by Morgan Blayde

  She tried stamping her foot to show me she was serous, only convulsions reached her from her dragon body, causing this projection to echo her responses.

  Oh—oh—!

  She sank bonelessly to her knees, clawing at one breast, all but drooling as her climax devolved into after-shocks.

  And then she vanished.

  I supposed she needed to return to her own body, to uncouple it and keep herself from going splat on the ground. In my mind’s eye, I could see them coming apart; crimson wings and golden ones would snap out to catch the wind. Their long bodies would ripple and whip sharply as they pulled up, wing struts straining to pull them into a controlled glide, to bleed off kinetic energy. They would be sleepy, sated, and I was sure as hell that Kain and his haunted cameras were getting it all preserved for prosperity.

  Eventually, I dropped my new version of Demon Wings and plugged back into my dragon’s senses, using his eyes to see the spread-out city. We’d moved from mid-town, to just above some of the taller downtown buildings. There was no sign of Selene. I’d shot myself in the foot; without her portal, I’d have to fly all the way back to L.A.

  Or take a shortcut through Fairy.

  I felt the surprise of my dragon half: Oh, there you are. I wondered what happened to you.

  We need to catch up to Vivian and see what she knows about Colt and the werecats. And about who sent those werejackals.

  I wouldn’t worry about that, Caine.

  Why not?

  With our luck, the bad guys will hit us long before we’re ready, with a bigger army next time.

  I sighed. I hope so. What’s life without a few impossible challenges? Meanwhile, we should get back. I don’t want to burden Kain too much with all my naked women. I also want to look at his pictures. If we’re lucky, he caught a few shots of whoever controlled those werejackals.

  I concentrated and bathed my dragon form with golden magic, picturing the forested mountains of one of my kingdoms. A connection was made, a resonance between my magic and that of Fairy. Eager to welcome, the land called and pulled me over. I vanished from the sky of Earth.

  FIVE

  “Be patient. Over time, the cosmos

  responds to hard kicks in the ass.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  I felt tides of magic flowing through the world. It refreshed and recharge me. The landscape shifted from forest to mountains, then shell-studded seashore. I was handed from one kingdom to another, twice seeing feral beasts Earth had never dreamed of, once a village in the treetops.

  In dragon form, I communed with the land of Fairy, running claws over rock outcroppings, dragging my tail through high grass and wildflowers. Brown butterflies fluttered past, like wind-blown wood shavings. I found a grove of willows where draping limbs formed swaying curtains reluctant to let me go.

  I insisted.

  Beating wings, I returned to the sky and summoned a vortex of shadow energy. I had little experience with portals since they’d always been summoned for me, but from hanging out with Colt, I’d gotten the idea that all you did was create a field of severed time-space, stepping into it while willing yourself to where you wanted to be. You got there—or not—depended on the clarity of your visualization and the strength of your magic.

  I imagined L.A., swinging my thoughts past the Stone Canyon Reservoir, to the Bel Air area. Once there, I ought to be able to find Kain’s seven million-dollar, Worthington Lane address using Interstate Highway 405 as a reference. Fortunately, I’ve looked at a lot of satellite maps over the years, ever since I started turning dragon. Not just for L.A., but for all the major U.S. cities. It’s a dragon thing, drooling over all the real estate that will one day be yours.

  I punched my shadow portal with a gold blaze of dragon magic and leaped. The tunnel closed behind me, and I was back in the night sky of Earth, falling from the heavens toward Kain’s estate. Staring down, it looked different from my last visit. Of course, I’d ridden on the Rider’s giant red centipede; completely different viewpoint. I swooped over a back garden and pool to a landing on a flat section of roof.

  To be honest--because it had to happen sometime—I wasn’t sure I had the right house until a dozen cameras materialize around me, taking pictures of my return to naked humanity, to use the term loosely. A translucent ghost butler faded in, bowed, and escorted me to the end of a wing that attached to a hexagonal tower, that rose like a glorified rook. A door in the side of the tower took me off the roof, into the tower, no steps required.

  The tower room possessed a small arsenal of automatic weapons. I drooled over them from a distance as the ghost led me past a group of vampire soldiers manning monitors. This was a security station, keeping a wary watch on the estate. One of the monitors showed the roof where I’d landed. The vamp on that monitor eyed me as I passed. I read confusion in his expression. Most things that shapeshift keep their exact mass. I hadn’t. Dragons don’t. He only knew of common shifters.

  Dragons and fey are not originally from earth. Our magic systems do what shifters can’t. Regular shifters find it annoying.

  Especially master vampires who can’t change into a bat—well, none of the younger ones. The older vamps like Gloria, Kain, or Vlad the Impaler, who I’d once met in Santa Fe once, well, they could manipulate their molecular state. They just didn’t want to expend so much power, and lose status by being compared to mere shifters. They considered themselves to be the aristocracy of the supernatural.

  Idiots. That’s what dragons are for.

  There was a vamp guard with a machine pistol at the elevator. He’d pushed the call button before I’d even entered the room so the door opened with perfect timing as I got there. The ghost butler drifted onto the lift. I paused on the threshold, catching the vamp’s stare, something else dragons did without getting their minds rolled like a drunken sailor on liberty.

  I said, “I’m expected my friend Vivian soon. I’ll clear it with Kain. Meanwhile, try not to piss her off. She has issues. Her mother was killed by a rogue vamp that couldn’t control his feeding. She’s dhampir.”

  At this last bit, a lot of the vamps on duty shot me attentive glances. Dhampirs are damned rare, and always objects of curiosity. The vampire at the elevator said, “Once we have Master Kain’s approval, she’ll be admitted, and escorted to you. I know Lord Kain will be quite interested.”

  “Fine.” I released the door and stepped into the car. The elevator dropped to the second floor and opened. I stepped onto a crimson runner that striped the hall’s black carpet. The hall led me past glass and wood curio cabinets with assorted daggers, maces, crossbows, and even a shark-tooth war club from Hawaii. Another cabinet contained glass figurines and music boxes.

  The ghost led me past bedrooms shielded by closed doors. We passed a six-by-twelve oil painting of Kain on the throne of Hell, the devil bent over, a footstool for his feet. Kain’s eyes seemed to follow me as a strolled past the painting. At a corner to the next wing, we reached double-doors of golden oak. A brass plate next to the doors read: ORGY ROOM.

  He’s got a specific room set aside for that?

  The ghost walked through the closed door.

  I opened it and followed, stopping just inside to indulge in envy. I saw a sprawling space that had to be four oversized rooms combined. In fact, there were three king-sized beds, a half-dozen hot tubs, a cold buffet being served off the naked cold bodies of three oriental vampires lying in glass coffins with no lids.

  Talk about exotic catering. I’ve got to get their number.

  The other side of the room had a fifteen-by-fifteen cutout in the ceiling to accommodate a wide staircase of golden oak steps and a banister supported by wrought iron balusters.

  The ghost butler gestured toward the stairs which had a baby grand piano tucked underneath. “There are private rooms upstairs for the shy, or those desire special services.” This last was said with a sinister air. I imagined whipping posts, saw-horse seats to punish sensitive genitalia, and setups with ma
nacles and feathers.

  Of course, I might just be projecting.

  The ghost faded away. Too late, I remembered to ask where the Red Centipede Rider had wandered.

  Oh well, she’ll turn up, I’m sure.

  Across the hall, feminine laughter drifted from a fur rug in front of a digital fireplace. I recognized the voices of my werekitties and headed that way. They lounged with champagne glasses in hand, naked as all shifter like to be. Their pointy ears had migrated to the tops of their heads, and their long flicking tails had sprouted. Otherwise, they looked human—except for slit-pupil eyes.

  For some reason, Kain sported a black loincloth around his privates and wore improvised Mad Max style body armor. His sword leaned against a table, just in reach. He held a goblet, took a drink, and I a small trickle of blood trickled from the corner of his lips. He dabbed it away and licked his hand.

  Waste not, want not.

  As I reached him, he turned to me. I saw the Mark of Cain on his chest: five oval scars, one set apart from the others. He saw my stare and smiled. “Some people talk about being touched by an angel. I was; hurt like hell.”

  So, he really was Cain, the inventor of homicide, made into the first vampire, so he’d wander the Earth forever in penance for his crime. I wondered if he and the immortal roman soldier who’d stabbed Christ in the side ever got together to weep for one another.

  I’d say no. Kain isn’t the crying sort.

  Teri, Dani, Cleo smiled up at me from the rug. At one time, they’d all had different colored hair. Currently, they flaunted hair the color of ginger ale and had shaved their private parts to keep their real hair color a mystery.

  “Going for a clone look?” I asked.

  Teri grinned and sipped her drink.

  Dani said, “We’re simply irresistible.”

  “Always,” I agreed. I shifted my attention to Kain. “I need to impose on your tolerance once again.”

  Kain arched an eyebrow. “Just ask.”

  I have another lady arriving at any moment. Can you have your security pass her up her with no fuss?”

  “Why might there be fuss?” he asked.

  “She has issues with vampires. Her mom was raped and killed by one. She’s dhampir. I’m letting you know so you can make allowances for any anger she might inadvertently slosh all over you.”

  “Dhampir? Intriguing. Well, any friend of your is a friend of mine. I will see that she feels welcome. Is this lady part of your harem?”

  “She doesn’t think so, though we’ve hooked up a time or two. I let her believe what she wants.”

  “Kind of you. Women often need illusions to function.”

  I nodded. “I knew you’d understand.”

  He curled fingers, gesturing, and a translucent ghost faded in; a pale girl in a maid’s uniform with a white-lace cap. He whispered instructions. The spirit bobbed and faded. Turning back to me, he gestured toward the buffet. “Please, help yourself to whatever catches your fancy.”

  I thought of the Asian ladies covered with food. They, more than the food, interested me. “Thanks, I will.”

  There was a clash of steel that turned me toward the staircase. Gloria descended backwards, twin short swords in her hands, crossed to catch a heavier weapon. Blow after blow rained on her swords, driving Gloria down the stairs. Soon, the lower half of her opponent came into view. From the phenomenal curves, firm-but-huge tits, and the sheer crimson mini-dress, I thought at first it was Selene. But the massive steel sword wasn’t one Selene would use. She preferred red crystal everything. This woman was the Red Centipede Rider, cutting loose.

  I looked at our host. Kain didn’t look the least bit alarmed. I turned back to the battle, wondering how serious they were. Gloria reached the ground floor, broke away, and circled the piano, looking for better fighting conditions. She reached an open space free of beds and hot tubs and turned back to face the Rider.

  “Get back here,” Red said. “You haven’t been taught a proper lesson yet.”

  Gloria wore a smile that said she wasn’t going to obey. The fire in her eyes suggested she’d do the instructing.

  “Gloria,” I called. “What the fuck?”

  She slanted me a look. “Caine! You’re back. How did it go.”

  “Zombie werejackals!” I yelled. “Why are you fighting her?”

  “I just wanted a little blood. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Did you ask, or try to seduce? Goddesses are immune to that sort of thing.”

  The Rider stopped still a few yards out from Gloria, holding a blade that had to be at least five feet long, and three feet wide. It had a massive handle to counter-balance the forward weight. She handled it effortlessly. The Rider said, “While I can understand your infatuation, I have never given myself to woman, man, or beast. Years ago, I took a sacred oath to surrender only to one able to defeat me with sword. No one else is worthy.”

  Gloria grinned. “Well, if that’s what it’s going to take…!”

  “Wait!” Kain shouted. “No one told me about this! I want in.” He shot me a red-lit stare. “You, too?”

  “I’ve got enough women. Take your shot.”

  The truth was, I didn’t know if I could beat the Rider, and I was curious about her skills. I wanted to watch her in action before crossing swords.

  “Awful decent of you.” Kain smiled and reached for his broadsword, taking it in hand. “I think I will.”

  “Hang on!” Gloria glowered. “Divine blood has to have a hell of a kick. I’m not moving to the back of the line for anyone. Wait your turn.”

  Kain sighed and leaned on his sword. “No respect for elders. That’s what’s wrong with the vampires today.”

  The werekitties sat up on the fur rug. Cleo smacked my leg. “Hey, move over. We can’t see.”

  I stepped over and sat on the rug, my legs folding comfortably under me. I relieved Cleo of her drink, taking a sip.

  “Five minutes,” Kain yelled, then I’m taking over.”

  A serious look scrubbed the smile off Gloria’s face. “Fine. Let’s make it more challenging; I can do this in four.”

  “Hah!” Kain’s laugh boomed. “I can take her in three!”

  “Like hell, you can.” The Rider yelled. “I’m going to have all of your fangs for a necklace!”

  I didn’t know who to cheer for. All of these people were friends.

  The doors to the ORGY ROOM opened and several vampire guards stuck their heads inside. One of them called, “My Lord, Kain, is there a situation we need to handle?”

  Kain yelled back. “No, don’t worry. Just friendly fun. Return to your posts. We might have werejackal zombies breaking in tonight.”

  The vampire guard bowed. “We shall prepare, my Lord.” The guards made way for Vivian to squeeze between them. As she crossed the huge space toward me, the guards retreated, closing the hallways doors behind them.

  Gloria lifted her swords and assumed a defensive posture, body angled to offer less surface area, one sword poking out farther than the other.

  The Rider lifted her massive sword over her head, gave it a fast, helicopter-type twirl, and snapped it down so it pointed at Gloria’s face. Vampires aren’t the only ones that like to pose.

  Vivian kept advancing like she wasn’t heading straight into a battle zone.

  Seeing her, Kain strolled to meet her. He walked between the duelers and kept going, showing no fear of anyone accidently lopping off his head.

  They didn’t.

  Cleo retaliated against me stealing her drink by dropping her face onto my naked lap, finding something else to mouth. She moaned deep in her throat, lapping at me, slurping as I hardened.

  “Me next,” Teri said.

  “Why wait?” Dani asked.

  “You have a point.” Teri crawled around behind me, cradling my back, flattening her tits against my back. Cleo and I locked lips, closed eyes, and pretty much gave up on watching the entertainment. I listened to sighs and moans, and the recorde
d crackling sounds of the digital fireplace. Teri dragged me back, lying me on my back. A second set of lips went to work on my ball sack as Dani helped out.

  Swords clashed and I missed it all. At one point, I heard a chiming phone. I hadn’t thought any of us had phones on us. Mine had been fried by lightning. As Cleo took my whole length down her throat, I opened my eyes and looked up.

  Selene stood there, wearing crimson armor, peering down at me, holding out my magically restored phone. She smiled with open cruelty. “It’s for you.”

  Dani swished her tongue over my balls, her ass and curling tail up in the air.

  I took the phone, knowing I’d regret it. I glowered at Selene. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”

  Her smile widened. “My own.”

  I knew that.

  I rubbed the icon on my phone and the connection opened. A high, piercing tone stabbed out, an animal sound that sank into an oscillating gibber: a jackal cry.

  “Fuck. Battle stations,” I yelled. “We’ve got incoming!”

  SIX

  “Rabid dogs are like leprechauns; they need a

  grenade up the ass before they see reason.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  I growled deep in my throat, ready to spit, cuss, kick ass, and take names in that order. “Why is everyone raining on my orgies. I work hard as a demon lord. I deserve my down time.”

  Teri looked up from a delicate nibble on one of my nipples. “It just isn’t fair.”

  I sighed. “Well, there’s no helping it. Werejackals are attacking.”

  Dani gave my cock a last lick. “Okay, I think I can remember where I’m leaving off.” She gave me a wicked smile. “Or you can remind me later.”

  Teri and Cleo rolled to feet which grew claws like their fingers. The ladies were soft and curvy in all the right ways, but also well-muscled. They had great abs and chiseled thighs, possessing a werecat’s famed leaping prowess. By the time I climbed to my feet, their bodies were covered in fur, making them distinctively colored: ginger, black, and brindled.