Crimson Sword Stalker (Demon Lord Book 10)

by Morgan Blayde

  His fashion sense is rubbing off on me. I may need an intervention by my harem.

  My stare gravitated toward an old woman with many wrinkles, withered dugs, and vertical pupils. Her skin looked rough as tree bark and she wore a multiple strands of alligator teeth. I had the feeling they came from people who’d gotten on her bad side. Her hands were undersized, more claw-tipped paws than anything else, and gnarled, like she had arthritis. Whatever beauty she’d once commanded had deserted her ages ago.

  Her fierce, reptilian gaze swept over us and stopped on Ringo. “Well, great-grandson, we have come. Do you want to tell us why?”

  No one interrupted her. No one spoke at all. This stamped her as the power here, the voice of authority.

  Prompted by her attention, Ringo stepped forward to face her. He squatted, not quite kneeling, so she didn’t have to strain looking up to meet his eyes, an act of consideration and respect. “Great-grandmother Onya, I greet you with joy. In the earliest days of my memory, I sat at your feet and learned the history of our clan. I learned the genealogies of our family, and the customs we keep. Among the stories you put me to bed with is the ancient tale of Jhurorizon, the stranger who came among us when the world was younger.”

  The old woman wore a smile, as if the tale were one she’d always recall with fondness. She inclined her head, encouraging him to continue.

  He smiled in return. However this developed, I didn’t believe he’d be in trouble with his people. He seemed to hold a higher position among them than I’d realized.

  “Jhurorizon blessed us with his protection and took a wife from our people. This brought great strength and potent magic to our bloodline for generations, for he was dragon-born. Some of our modern voices call this a Fairytale for children.”

  Onya frowned, her forehead creasing even deeper. “It is so. The old traditions are not so well respected anymore.”

  One of the larger men, who’d come in a rusty pickup, left the line of listeners. He stood at the point of an imaginary triangle with Onya and Ringo at the other points. This man considered himself worthy of attention. Whether this was true or not remained to be seen.

  He said, “Forgive the interruption, wise woman, but I feel—before we parade our clan’s business any further before strangers—we should know who they are.” He turned his head to scan Vivian and then me. She got more attention because of dangerous curves and the weapons she wore.

  Ringo looked from the stranger back to his great-grandmother. “The woman is Vivian, a dhampyr, professional security for our other guest.”

  Discipline broke among the shifters as they murmured to each other.

  Onya’s bright gaze pinned Vivian where she stood. “Dhampyr? A day-walker. That is rare. Few vampires have mortal children.”

  The strange male smiled coldly, as if he’d gained some kind of advantage. “Dhampyr. She’s tainted.”

  Vivian went still as a taut bowstring, barely restrained. Security are not supposed to follow their own agenda, but support the goals of their employer, despite provocation. I wasn’t worried about her. I listened for the crunch of gravel that would tell me an invisible dragon—Colt—was about to bite off someone’s head.

  Ringo’s soft voice went hard and edged like a knife. “Leif, these people are honored guests of mine. If you insult them, you insult me. Just recently, they overthrew the Clan of the Bear, and defended our world from the minions of the jackal god. They are worthy of respect.”

  Leif met Ringo’s stare. “I’m not afraid of you and I do not believe in gods.”

  I figured that was my cue. “I suppose you do not believe in dragons either?” I went forward and stood just behind Ringo. I bowed to Onya. “I am Caine Deathwalker, Villager, dragon-king, demon lord, and high king of Fairy.”

  Onya stared at me. “You are king of dragons?” Apparently, that was the only title that interested her. “If you are dragon-born, you have a claim to our hospitality. We revere the dragon-born that left our world so long ago, returning to their own place. But we must be sure, you understand? You have also called yourself demon lord. Demons are not known for their honesty.”

  “I also rule Fairy so I cannot lie; as High King, I vow this is true.”

  Leif laughed.

  And the sky shivered as mission bells pealed.

  The laugh died.

  The pealing faded.

  And that was my signal to Selene and Colt.

  Raging winds surged over us all. Colt’s dragon form became visible beside the Mustang. Glaring at Leif, Colt screamed in fury. The sound combined thunder with a piercing squeaky hinge sound, unnerving to those unfamiliar with it.

  I didn’t know if the gator-shifters would collapse in fear or run for their lives. Many of them looked to the old bald woman for their cues. Onya stared at Colt, her eyes wide with wonder and delight. I think we’d just made her day ecstatic.

  Leif stood pale as a ghost, a tremor of fear shaking him in his shoes.

  Colt’s scream died. He folded his wings down onto his back, and I realized that his dragon was a great deal larger than the one I’d seen his nine-year-old self produce, which made sense. Of course, my current dragon self would still dwarf him.

  A new scream filled the sky. We stared up and saw Selene’s crimson dragon swoop by and vanish. A few moments later, she returned, dropping back behind the Mustang. Ignoring us, her attention rested on a small clump of the rat-beavers that had returned to congregate on the bank, looking all of us over.

  I wondered if Selene were hungry. Of course, what dragon isn’t?

  I returned attention to Onya. “I am king of dragons by right of birth and this is my son, Colt. The other dragon is my wife, Selene, the Goddess of the Red Moon.”

  Onya sank to her knees and bowed her head to the gravel road in respect. Her people copied her. Except for Leif. I don’t think he’d finished crapping his pants.

  While none of the shifters watched, Vivian stalked over to Leif, jumped into the air, and landed a powerful snap kick on the side of his face. I heard his neck snap. He flopped to the ground, dead.

  I sure hope no one minds.

  Vivian strolled back to her place by the Mustang, throwing a warm smile at Colt who’d shed his dragon form and stood there now as a sixteen-year-old kid. He joined her in leaning against the side of the Mustang.

  I spoke to Onya. “Stand. You and your people. That’s honor enough.”

  Onya lifted her head and then her body from the ground. She called to her clan. “You heard the dragon king. Lift your faces. Prepare your hearts to receive his words, and the will of the goddess of dragons.”

  Hmmm. She gave Selene top billing. Must be a matriarchal society.

  A tour bus rolled up the road, stopping at Selene’s rump. They honked, of all things.

  She swung her massive head their way and bared jagged teeth. Flames whipped out of her nostrils along with black smoke. She gave them a halfhearted roar and they reversed the bus at break-neck speed.

  Selene let them go.

  I called over to Vivian. “Hey, bring the ice chest over here.”

  She scooped up the ice chest and carried it to me, setting it down at my feet. That chore accomplished she backed away.

  By then, Onya realized Leif was dead. She frowned at his body, then set eyes on some of her people. She waved her hand dismissively at Leif. “Do something with that, will you?”

  “At once, Wise Woman.”

  They dragged Leif off by hiss heels and tossed his body in the back of his truck, keeping his keys. A shifter climbed in behind the wheel and started the vehicle. It managed a turn and roared off. I expected the body to vanish into the bayou.

  “Onya.” My voice drew her attention back to me. “The goddess is concerned that those who attacked her child, declaring war on her, are hiding in your territory. Not you and your people, but ones you should know. She wonders if she can entrust this matter to your people. If she goes to war on her own, the destruction will be absolute. We
don’t want to punish friends to reach our enemies.”

  Onya choked on indignation a moment. It took a while for her to answer. “Who would dare!”

  “We have a clue.” I kicked the ice chest over. It opened. Ice and soda cans spilled out along with the severed arm. “The ones who have offended us have tatts like this.” I pointed at the arm.

  She looked at the arm and smiled like only a hungry gator can. Her stare leaped aside to the water’s edge where the rat-beaver things huddled in terror. “I know these ones: skin-walkers from South America, a coven-clan of warrior-witches. They use the skins of animals in their magic to become these animals.”

  The stare of all the other gator-shifters followed hers, locking onto the cute little fuzzy-wuzzies.

  The enemy that hides in plain sight. Not too cleaver of them to come to their own execution this way, spying on us.

  In the painful throes of change, the gator-shifters worked to shed their humanity. I knew, when they were done, an en mass movement of gators would sweep to the water, and a there would be a lot less nutria in the area hereafter.

  The huddled creatures had a hell of a choice; wait to be gator food or run. But they were under the predatory stare of the goddess-dragon Selene. To run from a predator invites a chase, if not instant death.

  Decisions, decisions…

  THIRTY-THREE

  “The dead are beyond the reach of therapy,

  but not pain, another reason to be pissed.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  The nutria waited until the shifter changes had progressed halfway and the gators were helpless, caught between human and reptile states. The giant rat-beavers scurried toward the shifters, instead of running from Selene, which wouldn’t have worked. For the skin-walkers, it was the equivalent of running into a minefield. They hoped to thread the gator menace, and use them as meat-shields against Selene, long enough to reach cover.

  Not a bad plan considering their limited choices.

  Nearing the Mustang, the ungainly furballs threw off their animal skins, emerging as naked humans with vine tattoos on their arms and ankles. This wasn’t all of them of course, but we had their leadership here, evidenced by the many spiral loops of the tattoos, indicating rank. They were a small, brown people with black hair and eyes. The tallest was four feet. How they’d fit into the small skins amazed me though I knew magic had a way around the law of conservation of mass that applied to regular shifters.

  Leaf-shaped knives hung around their necks on leather thongs. The knives didn’t have proper handles, just side prongs at the base for fingers to curl around. Escape may not have been their plan. They may have intended to take hostage. Back in human form, Colt looked far more vulnerable. And Vivian was a girl; to some minds, that creates an automatic assumption of weakness—her katana aside. And then there was old, unassuming me. And ancient Onya. If she were captured, would her people dare put her at risk?

  Whatever the warrior-witches thought, they weren’t ready for the ugly hell they found. One of the Vine Tribe warriors leaped straight at Colt as another scuttled at Vivian. The rest of the warriors came at me, Ringo, and Onya. None of us had changed so far. Easy kills, right?

  Hahahahahahahahahahaha! My inner child danced with joy and bloodlust.

  Colt crackled with red-copper lightning. Wrist-thick ribbons of electrical fire slithered over his flesh, leaving him unmarked. His attacker leaped into the lightning, exploded, cooked from the inside, dead before the seared meat slapped the ground in smoking lumps.

  The light-flashed enveloped Vivian, obscuring her and her attacker. As the glare died, I saw her attacker lying severed in half by the katana. She flicked her blade to remove excess blood, and exchanged measuring glances with Colt, each making sure the other stood unharmed.

  I was about to go all godly and kill a few witches with my avatar form, when a lunatic with a crimson sword dropped out of the sky, almost on Ringo’s head, and distracted us all. Crashing the party, Kain moved at top vampire speed into the midst of the warrior-witches. His sword blurred everywhere with a whistle of sliced air.

  I didn’t have to ask how he knew to be here at the right moment to hog all the glory. He and Gloria had the second Zahra living with them now. She’d said something, or they’d asked for word on me. I was surprised Gloria hadn’t come as well.

  By the time the shifters waddled over as alligators, nothing remained to kill. They contented themselves with eating the evidence of the massacre, worrying the bodies, then dragging them off into the water. I knew alligators liked to wedge their prey under logs so they could partially rot and get nice and gamey. I hoped the shifters would be careful about it or some of the regular tourists might see more than they wanted.

  Like me, Ringo and Onya only got to stand there, watching the show and the slow exodus of some of her people. I felt disappointed. And angry. Kain excelled as a stalker and I’d handed him the perfect tool in Zahra to be even more effective. I needed to give serious thought to my tendency of shooting myself in the foot.

  I bent, picked up the severed arm, and straightened, prepared to throw it to the gators.

  Kain looked at me. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have that for my museum. I’ll preserve it in liquid acrylic.”

  I tossed it to him. “Knock yourself out.”

  Coming over, he caught it out of the air. The gator’s left him alone. Something in them recognized a fierce predator that was too much to mess with. And of course, he carried that cursed sword with its air-curdling aura of bloodlust and violence.

  I bent again to scooped up a can of Coke from the spilled ice and popped the top. The caramel flavored bite and caffeine-sugar rush eased my disappointment. I was just sad I had no rum to go with it. I chugged some soda, then made introductions. “Onya, this interloper is Kain, Lord of Vampires.”

  “Interloper?” he lifted an eyebrow. “That’s harsh. And I came all the way from L.A. and you don’t even remember I went dungeon crawling to save you.”

  “I was going to go all shadow god with wings of gold and kill those fellows. You ruined my fun.”

  “Well, that’s true, but my sword needs frequent feeding. And I’m delivering a request from Gloria.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  He walked off toward Selene, who’d missed out on the mayhem as well. “It’s for Selene, not you. Sorry. Just stand there and guzzle.”

  I reminded myself that he’d be family soon and I couldn’t kill him—outright.

  Of course, if there’s an unfortunate accident…that can’t be traced back to me…

  I shook my head no. It wouldn’t work. He had a Zahra now. He’d be forewarned of any accidents.

  I could try bribing Zahra, but then she’d have blackmail on me. Not good.

  I sighed and took another drink.

  No, I’d just have to live with him. Some problems can’t be helped.

  “The Lord of Vampires,” Onya mused. “This has been a day of omens and portents. You have done well, Great-grandson.”

  Ringo grinned at her. “For a man?”

  “For a man.” She smiled back. Her yellow-green eyes shifted to me. “I have a few questions, dragon king.”

  “Sure.”

  “Are more dragons coming back to earth?”

  “No, not that I’ve heard.”

  “Are you planning to stay among us as another dragon once did?”

  “No, though I may visit from time to time. I have to unify the world under my control. To be honest, a grave threat is coming close. The Mayans just got the wrong date on their stone calendars for the end of the world. I intend to prevent it.”

  She nodded. “A worthy goal. You are indeed a protector among other things. This is why you are claiming crowns: in Fairy, among the dragons, demons, and even vampires.”

  “I swear on my honor it is for the good of the world, to prevent total destruction.”

  Mission bells pealed high in the air. Onya and Ringo looked up, then back at me.


  “Sorry,” I said. “That just happens.”

  “I find it reassuring,” Onya said. “And for that reason, as well, you have the support of the Gator Clan whenever you ask.”

  I inclined my head. “I am grateful.”

  Onya said, “Take my grandson with you. He is strong and will benefit you in many ways.”

  Ringo leaned closer. “She means I have cross country criminal connections.”

  I smiled. “Welcome to the team.” My stare went back to the Wise Woman. “Onya, among those that answer to me are the wolves of Las Vegas, the cactus demons of Santa Fe, and the shifters in Shreveport that are now led by a shifter Pride. I want all my friends to get along.”

  She nodded. “It will be so. Friends of the dragon king are my friends as well.” She nodded toward Kain. “With the possible exception of that one.”

  “Can’t ask for more.” I finished off my can, righted the knocked-over cooler, and dropped the empty can inside. I straightened to find Onya touching my arm, a curious expression on her face. “You wear illusion. I thought I heard no whisper of cloth as you moved.” She withdrew her claw-like hand.

  “Anything else you want to know?” I asked.

  “One request, an introduction to the goddess.” She nodded toward Selene who’d shed her dragon form to talk with Kain. She now wore a jeweled silk gown and a tiara, looking something like a bloody fairy princess.

  “Sure. Come along.” I passed Ringo and headed for Selene. The gators scrambled out of my way.

  As I neared my wife, I heard her laughing. “It’s true! We met in the dungeons of Atlantis. He freed me from my chains and swept me off my feet.”

  “It’s what a time-leaping demon lord does,” I said. “Selene, you’re not being annoyed by this lout’s attentions, I hope?”

  “Not at all. A rather charming man,” she said.

  “Vampire,” I corrected. I cast him a side-long glare. “Just remember her divine blood belongs to me, not you.”