Green Agate Pretender (Demon Lord Book 9)

by Morgan Blade

  “The Enemy!” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s an attempt to reweave the future time-lines, weakening you in the strongest probability.” Taking another step, she pushed the sword toward me. “Please, trust me. You need this weapon. Someone is bending time to steal it from you.”

  Mine! My dragon said. No one takes what is mine from me.

  I reached over Colt, grabbed the hilt, and pulled the blade back to me. The grip fit my hand perfectly, like it had been forged for me alone. I stared at the hilt. “What I’m most concerned with is how a specific memory was taken from a battlefield along with the sword. I’m not susceptible to vampire thrall or your average compulsion spell.”

  “Mom, can find out,” Colt said.

  “Not smart,” I said. “Once your mom gets to playing with people, she doesn’t always know when to stop. I could wind up with an extra set of balls.”

  I heard a clatter of armored fey approaching from behind me. I realized that Silverwynd must have flown off to get reinforcements, telling them the castle was invaded.

  My younger brother put a hand on my little sister’s shoulder, pulling her back. “Time to go. We’ve done what we were supposed to.”

  “But I want to…”

  Her words dwindled away as silver-clad guards rushed up the stairs behind me.

  She smiled bravely, misty eyed. “Good to finally meet you, big brother. I’m sorry for so much, for never knowing… I wish there were time, but there’s not. You have worlds to save. I’ll let you get on with it.”

  One of the fey warriors yelled. “Surrender yourselves in the name of the Queen!”

  She and Knucklehead backed into their black vortex. It swallowed them. The disk compressed to a black star that guttered out midair.

  I could see the empty stairs beyond. It seemed like more was being lost. I gripped the katana blade tightly. Too tightly, slicing a palm. Blood trickled down the titanium blade.

  Colt returned to his normal self, and even his shredded hoody rewove the tears, making repairs.

  I advanced, climbing the stairs. My little sister’s golden eyes haunted me through the climb.

  TEN

  “Your best dreams are nightmares

  when that’s all you know.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  I checked in with Izumi, finding her in a room of her own, one with a hand-carved cradle near the bed. There was a wet bar, and an icebox, the original kind that didn’t use electricity; you just threw in a block of ice every now and then, and drained the melted water. The stone walls were covered in tapestries of a mythical battle: an ice white dragon spread wings, swooping down on elven armies from the heart of a winter storm. The dragon’s breath was white cloud. Where it passed, still, bloody death remained.

  “Beautiful,” I said.

  Izumi moved up behind me, giving me a hug, her hands locking in front of me. “I had them commissioned a few years ago. They represent you and me against the world.”

  Against her world.

  The implication was that I had become her world. I made a point of not showing my deep insight. She’d expect some maudlin pronouncement of affection from me. Give in once, and women expect it regularly. And there’s no need; I cherish all my possessions, on a sliding scale of value.

  Love is mysterious, on the edge of unfathomable, and not always needed if the sex is good.

  “Where’s Colt?” she asked.

  “Getting acquainted with your mom,” I said. “I told him I needed a nap, that I’d be back for him in three or four hours.”

  She let go, turning me to face her. I didn’t resist, but I did take care in handling the titanium katana so I wouldn’t accidentally cut her. I needed to get a proper sheath and some leather straps for it so I could war the thing. For now, I stretched it out beside me and left it point down, leaning against the wall. I settled the agate crown over the pommel, letting it catch on the handguard.

  Izumi’s ice-white hair fell loosely down her back, her glamour abandoned so her eyes were no longer Japanese. On Earth, she passed as a Japanese snow-women, a supernatural with the same icy powers as a winter fey. It was one of the reasons she’d managed to escape Fairy’s attention for so long—and the arranged marriage her mom had once tried to force on her with a frost giant.

  She pushed me back into a tapestry, pressing into me, her lips seeking mine. Her breath and mouth burned with cold, frosting my tongue. She said, “There’s something about being pregnant that makes me want you—desperately.” She kissed me again. “Urgently.”

  She began stripping off my clothes. Baring my chest, she planted a string of kissing down my heart.

  I let the backpack with the ties swing from my hand, to the floor. I’d been planning to see if any of the pieces fit yet, but it could wait. Izumi couldn’t.

  As she stripped off the last of my clothes, I scooped her up and carried her toward the queen-sized bed.

  It had a blanket on it, a repeat of the ice-dragon motif, but this dragon was female, coiling around a nest of shattered trees, preening herself as she sheltered three large dragon eggs. The maternal themes would only get worse as time went on. It was a good thing I was starting a war with most of Fairy; the follow through was going to keep me preoccupied with affairs of state for a good while. I was glad that males were not required at baby showers. I had no doubt Izumi was going to introduce that customer here.

  I eased Izumi onto the bed and stepped back. Recreational sex with an ice fey had inherent risks. Izumi knew this. She didn’t question the delay as I slid shadow cross my skin, forming a spell pattern to invoke my dragon fire. Once formed, I washed the pattern with golden dragon lifeforce. The shadow writing warmed. The rest of me followed.

  The idea wasn’t to burst into flames, but to raise my body temperature to the point where I wouldn’t frost over or be turned into a human popsicle should Izumi lose control in an organismic frenzy.

  Nothing kills intimacy faster than a frozen cock snapping off in use.

  I shuddered at the mental image.

  Izumi’s arms took me in as I lowered myself to her. I lost myself, taking pleasure, using my woman as she was meant to be used. Nor was she shy rolling me onto my back, pinning me down, and descending on me, sheathing my happy cock in her moist, velvet depths. As she rode me, breasts swaying, her magic uncoiled and iced the air heavily. My dragon heat thawed the ice so that beads of dew jeweled our skin. Soon, our motion dislodged the beads creating trickles. The bed dampened under me.

  She leaned in, grinding on me.

  I reached up and grabbed her breasts, deforming them with my grip. I licked her right nipple, nibbled, and trailed kisses to the left breast, giving it similar attention. She moaned and gasped, then tightened on me in her first wave of climax. She went rigid, squeezing, and then wilted on me.

  I rolled her onto her back and resumed my stroked, steady, relentless, demanding. In my head, I hear the voice of my cock: Oh, no! we’re not done yet, babe.

  She lay panting, her whole rocking, her breasts surging up her torso and back down again as I pounded into her, a tight fit. Selene, a dragon goddess, my were-kitties, and my day-walker lover would still be keeping up with me, fey like Izumi were less tough, more like humans. This was going to leave bruises, but it had in the past, and she’d always worn them as badges of honor. If she wanted me to stop, I would, but until she said something…

  Her hands came up, caressing my arms as I leaned on the bed. Her eyes were focused once again. “Keep…going. I’m getting close…again.”

  You got it, lady.

  Pressure built. My scrotum tightened. My balls shrieked in triumphant joy, unloading. I filled Izumi’s cold depths with my scalding cum. Embracing her hard, locked like a statue, I felt her tightening on me, a new series of contractions fusing us into one being. I grunted. She screamed, a piercing stab of sound that rang my ears. I sagged on top of her, temporarily spent.

  In recent years, my body had toughened, my bones thickening, growing denser, hea
vier. Izumi could have complained, but didn’t. Instead, she wrapped her arms over my ribs and breathed words into my ear: “I love you.”

  I mumbled soft, inarticulate sounds, letting her make what she would of them. Knowing she had all I could give, she didn’t demand clarity.

  After a moment, I slid to the side so she could breathe more fully. We held each other, eyes closing, drifting away together into realms of sleep.

  Kimberly met my gaze. Her heart-shaped face framed by a loose fall of brunette hair. Her eyes were her strongest features. They swelled, becoming crystal moons of amethyst. Their depths tugged at me, portals into mystery. Her voice came, a gentle wind: “We are coming. We will be there soon.”

  Since it was a dream, my golden dragon floated in darkness with me, his coils like armor around my nakedness. He dwarfed me of course, his eyes giant golden pearls, stray jags of lightning dancing on his polished scales. His wings fanned slowly at full extension.

  This is not just a dream. It really is Kimberly, he said.

  She’d once hired me to find a missing dreamstone stolen from her fey mistress, the Queen of the Dreams. Kimberly was human, a seer in training that had been adopted by the Oracle. When I knew her, Kimberly could see several minutes into the future at any time. I wondered how far ahead she see now.

  I asked her, “Who is we?”

  “My mistress, the Oracle of Dreams, and the Queen of the Shadow Lands.”

  As if I were suddenly seeing clairvoyantly, the darkness fell away; waves of white swirled between us, winds heavy with snow. She rode a horse that had a kind of wrap around its body. The animal looked unhappy being the first to cut a path through the drifts. Canyon walls rose to either side of her party.

  Behind her rode the shadow queen, the fey peasant I’d set on the throne of the Shadow Lands after deposing—killing—the old queen. She looked much as I remembered, maybe a new hardness in face and eyes that comes from making hard decisions. Dressed in black furs, she huddled on a black horse that might have been solidified darkness. Under that fur, I sensed the black diamond necklace that was the tie to the Shadow Lands.

  Last in line, a total contrast to the shadow queen, rode a woman with blind eyes that looked like opals. She wore white robes and a rabbit-fur cloak, making her a ghost in the storm. A moonstone bounced against her slight chest as her horse’s plodding rocked her in the saddle.

  The Oracle, the Mistress of the Dream Marches.

  I wondered if all three were bringing me their ties. It would certainly simplify things a little. I also found it odd that they came into potentially enemy territory without guards. This had the feel of a secret summit meeting.

  As my focus centered on the Oracle, her head turned, blind eyes locking onto me. Her thoughts found me in my dream: Exactly right, young man. We will each your gates soon. Hopefully, your hospitality will not be lacking.

  Release me from this dream, and I will see to it.

  She made a shooing away motion with one hand, and the darkness returned. I was alone with my golden dragon. Then he faded out, and I sat up in bed, Izumi asleep next to me. Letting her remain asleep, I moved carefully, sliding off the bed, scooping up my clothes. They smelled. I reconsidered putting them on, dropping them by the bed. I went to an armoire and opened the doors. Most of the hanging clothes were Izumi’s, but a couple of my suits were there, too. I took one out and a pair of steel-toed boots in the bottom of the armoire. No socks. I sighed.

  Izumi had let a few things fall through the cracks, obsessed with her future motherhood. I wondered if she’d move on with the kid and forget me entirely now my purpose as royal impregnator was served.

  I set the suit on the edge of the bed and went to a washstand with a ceramic bowl. I filled it from a jug of water, setting the jug aside. My body heat was still jacked by the Dragon Fire spell I was running on low. I focused and flowed the heat into my hands, increasing the burn. I plunged my hands into the water. Submerged, I watched them glow red, setting the water to boil. I killed the spell and used the heated water to sluice sweat off my body, wishing for body wash—something else that was missing. Well, these were new quarters for us. Doubtless, Izumi would get things sorted out soon.

  I did find a stack of fluffy towels. I used one to dry off, then dressed, slipping the back pack on over my coat. After stamping into my boots, I grabbed my straight katana from it’s lean against the wall. I took the crown off the hilt and settled it on my head. Titanium blade in hand, I let myself out into the hall. A passing maid eyed the sword nervously, and bowed with respect. “Is there anything I can help my lord or lady with?”

  “Izumi’s asleep. I think we can let get her rest. There is one thing: go to Queen Kellyn’s quarters. She needs to be informed that we have royal visitors approaching the main gates. She will want to be on hand to greet the Oracle of the Dream Marshes and the Queen of the Shadow Court.”

  Lifting her head, the maid’s eyes went wide with excitement. “Yes, my lord, I will attend to it at once.”

  She ran off without asking how I knew these things. Then again, fey aristocracy were often mysterious and inscrutable, when they weren’t being petty and vindictive. The maid knew better than to ask. Hired help was often turned into toads for lesser offenses.

  I hurried on, coming across a roving guard in silver chainmail who saluted, one hand on the hilt of his silver sword. “You’re with me,” I said.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Escort me to the throne room. Then get an honor guard together. Also, send word to the main gate that we have a small party of royals coming in. We’re going to need escorts for them, rooms, and food. The queen should be joining us, soon.”

  The guard lengthened his stride, hurrying with the burden of command I’d placed upon him. My displeasure might only earn him a bullet. If he failed his queen, instead of impressing her with his diligence, she’d freeze him solid and kick him out into the storm to await a spring thaw.

  Kellyn was no one to mess with.

  No fey queen or king suffered fools lightly.

  How I’d survived them all this long amazed me.

  As we went, my guard swept up others. He gave orders, sending them off. By the time we reached the throne room. The guards were falling into ranks. Assorted aristocrats were arriving with an air of haste and excitement.

  The royal chamberlain approached me. “You say we are receiving royalty? No one informed me of any state visits.”

  “Last minute thing, I think. It’s the Queen of Shadows and of Dreams.”

  “So much to do…!” he hobbled off, leaning on his staff of office.

  Kellyn joined me near her throne. She’d been close enough to overhear. She seated herself, every hair in place, crown balanced on her head. She wore a jeweled white leather bodice with pale blue skirts that covered her legs and the base of the throne like a billow of shadowed snow.

  Her smile had a predatory quality as she turned it on me. “Embarrass me in front of my peers, and I will carve your heart out. After all, you have given my daughter a child. You are less valuable to me, than to her.”

  Colt walked over, yawning, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He held a small cherry tart some kitchen worker must have given him. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Your new grandmother is threatening to kill me,” I said.

  Colt gave her a sharp stare. “Grandma!”

  She turned an innocent face toward him, her eyebrows arching gracefully. “Do you believe everything your father tells you?”

  He looked back at me. “I trust him, but I do spend a lot of time verifying.”

  I looked at him. “Did you notice she didn’t actually contradict what I said, simply redirected you? Fey are scrupulously honest as far as their words go, but that doesn’t mean they can be believed.”

  He nodded. “I’ll pay attention.”

  “Let’s hope that’s enough,” I said.

  I looked over as the throne room’s giant doors were opened and our new guests arr
ived, our guards parading them in. Since two of the three women were equally ranked with Queen Kellyn, she rose from her throne and went to meet them instead of them coming to her. It was a gesture not all fey rulers would have made.

  Using the agate crown, I confirmed that the visiting queens wore their ties on their persons. The presence of the crystal tickled my avarice. I followed Kellyn with Colt beside me. “You going to eat that tart?” I asked.

  He looked at what he carried? “You want this? Five bucks.”

  “You didn’t pay to get it. Fey fall all over themselves when children are present. They have so few.”

  “That’s why we’re conquering them, right, so they can have kids again?”

  “Well, yeah, but there’s also power for its own sake. I ought to get something out of saving them. It’s only fair.” I reached for the tart.

  He swung it away. “Cash first; I know how you are.”

  ELEVEN

  “Conquering by committee never works well.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  Greetings and introductions were made. Kellyn moved the visitors along to a long banquet room with many tables. Kitchen workers were setting out tableware and carrying wine around to those that wanted it. A full complement of nobles arrived hastily, full of questions and comments.

  Colt and I stood near the head table, listening to the queens exchanging pleasantries. Official business would not be conducted quite this publicly. Once Queen Kellyn’s court experienced the thrill of high-born visitors, and the visitors were thawed out a little, tongues loosened with wine, the royal ladies would retreat to private quarters for significant discussions. Fey did everything with a hedonistic edge, even dire business of state.

  As I finished the tart and licked a red smear off a finger, Kimberly joined me, her eyes straying to Colt.

  “My first-born, Colt.” I gestured to her, giving Colt a glance. “This is Kimberly. I don’t remember her last name. She was a go-between for a fey client a few years back.”