07- Black Blood Brother

by Morgan Blayde

  Her royal sexiness strolled over to me, ruffled my hair, kissed me on the lips, and looked at Colt. “Who’s the kid?”

  He looked up. “Auntie Gloria!” Colt leaped up and ran around me. He threw himself into her arms. She caught him. He startled her with a kiss to the cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  “That’s Colt, my son,” I said.

  Gloria stared at me, at him, then back at me. “And where have you been hiding him all these years—and why?”

  “He’s not born yet,” I said. “This version is visiting from nine years into the future.”

  “I love that sword you sent me for my last birthday,” he said.

  Zero-T dragged a chair over for her.

  Gloria set Colt down and patted him like a dog. “I’m sure we’re going to be great friends. What’s your blood type, by the way?”

  “Don’t even go there,” I said. “Selene will rip you a new one.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Gloria took off her broadsword so she could sit. She turned to me. “Hey, wait a second, don’t you have a tattoo to keep kids from happening?”

  “He lost them all,” Zero-T said. “Got careless.”

  “Not all of them,” I said.

  Gloria leaned elbows on the table, her joined hands under her chin as she regarded me. “Selene’s the mother? How’d she beat out the ice princess? I want all the details.”

  I said, “Too long to go into now. We’ve got business to get to.”

  “Tell me about the kid, then. What is he?”

  “A demi-god in training.”

  The demi-god in training went back to pushing his Mustang across the table. “Vroom, vroom.” I think he hoped to annoy me into paying him to go away for a while.

  I looked down the table at Winter. He and Angie had their heads together, murmuring to one another. Definite chemistry there.

  I called out, “Hey, detective, won’t your Captain get pissy if you run off with us to another dimension to kill folks?”

  “I’m on vacation.” He stared at me with amber wolf-eyes. “And if you don’t tell her, how will she know?”

  “Good point.”

  Thule came in. He had a fierce look to him, as if his roc’s battle with DeSilver had stirred up the wilder side of his demon nature. He closed the door to the meeting room and stayed by the door, guarding our privacy. I assumed he had more guards outside.

  Everyone was here that I needed except for Osama and Selene. A week ago, my combat butler had caught a plane from L.A. to Japan, going back to visit relatives. As for Selene, she’d sent word through Colt; she’d meet me in the Villager dimension. Apparently, she’d been preparing for this day for over a thousand years, and intended to shock me with a killer surprise.

  Zero-T flipped toward the back of the master plan he’d been provided with. He stiffened and stared at the last page. “This can’t be right.”

  There was a cruel smile on Imari’s obsidian face. The orange flames on her sleek, baldhead danced with exuberance. “I think it’s the perfect role for you, Big Dawg. If anyone can pull it off…you da man!”

  Zero-T looked at me, then at her. He said, “You’re painting a huge target on my back and asking me to show my ass to the enemy.”

  Imari nodded. “Exactly right. You’re playing a key role with your disguise skills and magic masks. The enemy needs to believe that Caine is leading his troops into battle.”

  I said, “While they watch you—and try to smoke your ass because you’re playing me—I’ll be sneaking off to cut the legs out from under the Villagers.”

  Zero-T said, “Sure, I can wave some Berettas around while wearing a magical disguise, but I can’t pull off anything that looks like shadow magic. And I sure as hell can’t toss lightning around.”

  Imari said, “Actually, you will. We have a few storm magic demons that can help you fake it.”

  Zero-T looked slightly less doubtful. “Well, you’re not going to let anyone kill me, right. I mean, chopping off the head of the enemy’s leader is a tried and true tactic.

  I pointed at Thule over by the door. “You’ll have Thule and my security team on you. They’ll keep you alive, and it will sell the deception. My guards are known to the Villagers by now. They are oh, so proud of their research.”

  Thule beckoned toward me. He wanted a private word. I got up and walked over. Thule leaned in close and whispered, “If he happens to die, you won’t hold it against us, right? I mean, these are Villagers armed with shadow magic.”

  I patted him on the arm. “Just do your best. Buy me all the time you can, and run like hell if it looks like the plan is going to hell.”

  Thule nodded. “Right.”

  The discussion had moved on to other issues as I returned to my seat. Zero-T leaned in. He whispered. “What did Thule say?”

  I looked my dear friend in the eyes. “He swears upon his life that no one will touch you.”

  Suddenly, Zero-T grew misty eyes. “Damned nice of him.” He swung around and gave Thule a thumb-up gesture.

  Thule gave him back a rather predatory smile, returning the gesture.

  Gloria put a hand on my arm. I knew she’d heard my discussion with Thule with her vampire hearing. She brushed my cheek with a kiss on the way to whispering in my ear. “Dear one, you should have been born a vampire. Your grasp of leadership skills is truly amazing. I wish my son Adrian was half the player you are.”

  Her son ran the vampires of L.A, except when he fucked it up and Gloria had to step in. Adrian imagined he could be Master of the City in a place where I was already Hub Lord, just because he spent as much money on his wardrobe as I did. Gloria was a good friend, but one day, I knew I’d be forced to kill her son. I was just waiting for him to do something stupid enough so Gloria wouldn’t go immediately for my throat when I did. We both knew it, and made a point of never talking about it.

  “Auntie Gloria.” Colt held his model to his chest, partly covering up the big white skull on his hoodie. “I want a kiss too.”

  She gave him one. Instead of going back to his chair, he slid onto her lap, making himself at home. Gloria laughed and shot me a knowing look. “He’s your son, alright. Who’s going to be watching him while you’re off in the Villager dimension?”

  “I’ve asked his Auntie Chrys to take him to the movies. And out for dinner. I want her for my harem, so I don’t want her dying while fighting for her people, or maybe coming after me at the wrong time.”

  If she were to consider me a true enemy, it wouldn’t bode well for my skeletal structure. I liked my bones intact. That’s why I’d asked Colt to do this for me. Surprisingly, he’d agreed at once, not even asking for cash.

  The door opened, despite the guards outside. Thule blocked the opening a moment, then sidestepped. My cousin Kinsey and my Uncle Drake marched in.

  Kinsey kept a hand on the basket-hilt rapier she wore in a leather sheath, connected to her belt with silver chains. Her belt buckle was also silver, with a garnet buckle. Her boots were ankle-high, black like her pants. Her top was a royal blue, setting off her flaxen hair. Her angry eyes were antique gold, like the many wide bracelets she wore on her forearms. She’d trained to use the jewelry in blocking an enemy’s sword or knife.

  Drake wore a charcoal gray suit with an open pale blue shirt, no tie. His eyes held a soft butter-yellow glow. His face was clean shaven, and lightly seamed with fine lines. He didn’t need to show age; dragons could look any age they wanted in human form. I think he liked looking distinguished with his short, iron gray hair, and his diamond cufflinks.

  Their searching gazes found me. They came my way, ignoring the room that fell silent.

  I stood and left the table to meet them halfway—wondering which of my many sins they were concerning themselves with. It didn’t matter; in my inner coat pocket, I had a trump card to shut them up. But I’d listen first.

  I stopped and crossed my arms. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “We have heard disturbing
tales.” If voices could be aged like wine, Drake’s had been. It sounded deep and mellow.

  “Can you be more specific?” I asked.

  Kinsey jumped into the conversation. “You’ve been killing silver dragons! We’ve had word of one dropped into the midst of the emperor’s throne room.”

  Again, I had to point out the obvious. “It’s my throne room. I think I can drop what I want there.”

  Drake said, “It’s true then!”

  I called out, “Colt, come here a minute.”

  He hurried over, stopping close to me, one hand on my hip. He looked at my cousin and uncle, then away, oddly shy—for him. I said, “This is the one that delivered the silver traitor to the usurper for me.”

  Kinsey looked at me as if my words made no sense. “Traitor?”

  I said, “The Silver Clan has been working behind the throne, making secret alliances with the enemies of dragon kind.” I reached in my coat pocket and handed a folded parchment to Drake. “Read this.”

  He took the parchment, studied the royal seal on it, unfolded it, and read silently.

  Kinsey shook off her momentary confusion. “We also heard you killed a second dragon—and ate his heart!”

  Colt looked up at me, admiration in his eyes. “You did?”

  “I had a good reason.” I wanted to.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Drake handed me back the parchment. “He is the official executioner of the dragon world. The emperor’s own hand has signed that document. Caine stands outside dragon law and custom in the pursuit of the emperor’s justice.” Drake bowed to me. “Forgive our questions, Lord Executioner. If we may stand in service of The Family, please call on us.”

  Kinsey stared at him. “That’s it? He does anything he wants and we have to smile?”

  I said, “Better than dying, Mom. I wonder how your heart would taste.”

  She paled, meeting my stare. My very serious stare. Her checks flushed red. She wheeled and fled the room. I looked at Drake. “If you will excuse me, I am preparing to take on the Villagers that subverted the Silver Clan. If I survive, we can talk later.”

  He bowed again and left. Thule closed the door behind them.

  The Old Man’s voice boomed across the room. “Caine, do me a favor and don’t eat my bride’s heart. I’m pretty sure we’ll need that on our honeymoon.”

  “I wasn’t serious,” I said.

  Oddly, no one in the room looked like they believed me.

  THIRTY-TWO

  “A man unwilling to risk everything hasn’t

  been ruthless enough with himself.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  I didn’t think Able expected me to return to the wilds of the Villager dimension, to the spot where I’d been discovered by him—and trapped in my own spell circle. Still, I approached from a new direction, with Selene’s power shielding us all from notice as Zig and Zag floated ahead, lighting the way.

  We found no guards on the spot even though I’d punched through from here into the prison of their hag goddess. I stood outside the circle, looking down at the lines burned into the oily black rock. No one had messed with it. I suppose, having almost died here once, they thought me too intelligent to try it again.

  The fools!

  Selene wore red seamless armor that clung to her like spray paint. The texture was steel hard, but it managed to flex, giving her easy freedom of movement. She carried a teardrop shaped helmet under one arm. The hunting horn dangling from a strap on a red leather belt mystified me.

  Why that and not at least a sword?

  I was envious, making do with one of my spell-warded suits that was vulnerable to magic. I’d have felt a whole lot better if I still had my tatts.

  She said, “It would be easier if I knew where this dark portal goes to. I could take you straight there.”

  “The place is warded too well, or your desire to know would supply the answer. You goddesses got a good thing going on.” I thought of the hag, of her miserable thousand-year imprisonment. “Most of you, anyway.”

  “I wish I could cross over with you,” Selene said.

  “I know, but I need you to shield the circle so no magic escapes to draw the Villager’s attention here. And once open, I need you to hold the portal for me so it doesn’t go away, like last time.”

  “You’re going to be all right with her? She’s a goddess, and from what you said, not very stable.”

  I smiled at Selene. “I’m used to insane deities.”

  She punched me in the arm. Hard.

  I lifted eyebrows and lied. “I didn’t mean you.”

  “No, of course not. Can we get started?”

  “In a bit.” I looked up at the black sky—a universe without stars or moons. This dimension seemed unborn, still in its mother’s dead, dark womb. Infinite sterility, except for the blessing of shadow magic deep underground in another kind of womb.

  I dripped my stare to the purple-white haze of light above the closest city. That was the focal point of our faux invasion. The Old Man’s storm magic would open our attack with a furious pounding of lightning. That would be my cue.

  Selene said, “Have you thought about what the dark hag will do to her people once she’d free of their control? She will hold a grudge, I promise you.”

  “Whatever she’ll do, they’ve earned it.”

  “I’m not so sure. I have memories that go both directions in time. What will happen to this world in ages to come—even I have problems with that.”

  “I’m sorry, but if I know about all the awfulness I set in motion, I’ll have to pretend to care.” I turned back to her. “Besides, we’ve got to consider the stability of the temporal multi-verse.”

  Selene smiled at that. “And I thought I was scary.”

  I drew her to me and kissed her. “You are. It just makes you sexier.”

  Catching flashes of light from the corner of my eye, I looked back to the Villager metropolis. Clouds had formed over it. The sight must have amazed the locals that don’t travel much. Reflecting the city light back on itself, the eternal night actually brightened. The underbelly of the violet-blue clouds brightened even more as webs of purple-white lightning came and went. Then came the first massive jags of electrical fire. From where I stood, I couldn’t see them hit the city, but I had mental images of alien black-rock towers exploding and spraying debris into crowded streets.

  Too bad I’m missing a really good show.

  I walked into the spell circle, leaving Selene at the edge. I took the middle point and formed a blade of shadow in my right hand. A quick, short cut, and blood dripped from my left hand. Red splatters fell on the dotted the lines that had been tainted by my brother’s black blood. My blood was drawn into the pattern. It didn’t turn bright crimson again, but acquired a dark garnet hue.

  Coating my body with a protective layer of shadow magic, I felt the wound on my left hand close. I waited, knowing what to expect this time. Grit and dust kicked up as a new wind whirled around the perimeter. Cold, black flames danced up from my feet. While lashes of shadow magic raged across the pattern, battering the containment barrier, I fell from the surface world, landing miles down in shallow water under a cavern roof thick with glowworms.

  There was no manic laughter this time. No clacking of conduits, just the random drip and splatters of water off the stalagmites. I turned and stared up the bank, at four Villagers who leaped off the bank at me, swords of shadow in their hands. They wore the usual black enameled chainmail and had those wrist comms with the glowing green lenses.

  Nice of them to provide enough light for me to kill them easily.

  Villagers were faster than human, but not dragon-fast. Nor dragon strong. I leaped toward the two on the right, using my bare hands to catch their blades as they passed me on either side. I drained their magic into myself and their shadow blades went soft, splintering into fragments that dusted into nothing.

  The four landed in the water.

  I yelled at the black-iris po
rtal above them. “Selene, lightning!”

  The spell circle beyond the portal was designed to keep things in, not out. Her power bludgeoned into the circle, crimson light eating the darkness, passed through the shadow portal, and red jags of lightning sizzled into the water where the Villagers stood. Screams sounded as they died on their feet. The stench of slagged metal and burnt meat filled the air.

  The lightning snapped out.

  “Thanks,” I called back.

  I climbed the rest of the bank. At the crest, I paused to pull several chem-sticks from an inner pocket. I shook them and bent them sharply. They ignited with cold green light.

  I yelled past the obsidian pillars. “Grandma, did you miss me?”

  There was a stirring that caused a rapid-fire series of clacks. The sound cut off sharply. I imagined the hag spinning toward the trail, hope warring in her against long disappointment as she regained control, holding herself rigidly still.

  Her voice came, “You are real? Not a ghost of my own madness, come to torture me?”

  “To live is to suffer, but I’m real enough.”

  “You could be lying.”

  “I’ve just killed for you. What more can a friend do?”

  I went up past the pillars to stand at the limit of her reach. I tossed the glow wands over to her. Their green light made the white, blind stones of her eyes look like pieces of rare jade. “I can’t make you trust me, but you should consider it. I can’t free you if I have to deal with the complexities of these conduits, and also fight you off.”

  “You ask a lot from one utterly betrayed.”

  “Will you give me a chance to show you I can be trusted? If not, I’ll be dead, or driven off, and nothing will ever change for you.”

  “You smell tasty, full of magic. I’m so hungry.”

  “Control your hunger until you are free. Your people now number in the millions on the surface. Plenty there to fill you up.”