Demon Rogue (The Half-Demon Rogue Book 1)

by Erikson, D. N.

  I waved goodbye to the Alchemist, with a promise to tell her the story should I survive, and drove off. The clink and rattle of the spears and scimitars and glass bottles was replaced by tires riding over smooth road.

  As soundtracks went, the silence was a little ominous. The bear-skin flask and a plastic gallon thermos rocked gently on the passenger seat. In the back, the only object I hadn’t transmuted sat quietly.

  Woden’s Spear.

  Too powerful to give that one up.

  I smiled. Gunnar had even used the silver powder to uncloak it. Nadia was right. A good man was hard to find, but you could find them in the strangest of places.

  The outer limits of the town began to crop up, the isolated gas stations and trailer homes seguing into slightly less busted up shops and houses. I killed the car’s engine near an old stamping plant a stone’s throw away from the Lux wreckage.

  Thank goodness for Inonda’s limited resources. I’m sure Detective Scott was on the horn with the governor’s secretary, trying to get the National Guard down here. Any backup would do. But a couple freak accidents and a grizzly murder weren’t enough to stretch the state’s already empty coffers.

  Which was good for me.

  Crime scene tape waved in the morning breeze around the wreckage. It was just there to keep kids from playing in the ruins, cutting themselves on a shattered bottle of bourbon. There was no crime—well, there was, but I doubt anyone suspected it.

  As good a place as any to drink this essence and let the chips fall where they may.

  I snuck beneath the tape and ducked behind an overturned liquor cabinet. Drink might not have been the right word—you don’t really drink essence so much as it flows into you. But I did feel like some sort of drunk sucking down cheap fermented wine in a bad part of town.

  My hands shook from the influx of magical energy entering my body. This much change, this fast—it couldn’t be good. Lesser doses had killed men, rendered them utterly psychotic. Had to be put down like rabid dogs.

  But I kept going, finishing the bear-skin and tossing it aside. My skin seared, and I could feel a difference in my perception. Auras that were imperceptible only minutes before drifted through the ether around Lux’s wreckage.

  Whether they were remnants of Isabella’s tempest, or shades of what the clientele had left behind, I was far too green to know.

  Instead, I rubbed my eyes, and redoubled my focus on the task at hand.

  The thermos proved to be the tipping point. As the energy glided down my throat, the world came alive with bursts of kaleidoscopic color and energy bands that seemed beautiful and frightening at once.

  “You’ve done it now,” I said, my speech slurred. Amidst the blur of hues, I saw a flare shoot up in the distance. It was hard to tell, but I could swear it was coming from around my apartment.

  Yeah, like hell I was going back there.

  I rolled over, snuggling up against a broken chair. My nerves tingled with a strange power, one that my body wasn’t certain whether to accept or reject. Strangely, given all the stories, my mind was clearer than it had ever been. Perhaps keeping a somewhat reasonable balance between the essences had spared me any side effects.

  A spasm surged through my spine, almost breaking my back in two. I jerked forward like a beached fish, gasping for air as I slammed against a chunk of upturned hardwood. Sweat and bile and other foul substances rushed from my pores, coating me in an unpleasant slime. The seizing continued, my body continually slamming against the debris.

  It was as if I was observing myself having an episode that could result in my death. Which would be very interesting, if I wasn’t involved at all.

  But I was the subject of this ill-advised experiment, so it was terrifying.

  After some minutes of involuntary movement, during which my skin was cut open many times over from the rough terrain, my body let out a final heroic twist. Then everything came to a halt.

  Gingerly moving my head, I looked down at my torn shirt. The last remnants of the black bite mark were gone, which I took as a good sign. The world, too, had returned largely to normal, although my senses were heightened and I was dialed into the interconnectedness of magical energy. Struggling to my feet, I decided it was time to test my abilities.

  Pointing a finger at the old stamping plant, still breathing heavily, I rasped out, “Firus ignitus.” A simple immolation spell, one that normally was good for setting a bush or a small tree aflame.

  Or the candles in the bomb shelter.

  I watched in detached amusement as a huge pyre sprung from the abandoned factory, smoke billowing out its top.

  A bizarre sensation came over me.

  Like I could control the spells, the destruction.

  I raised my fingers, body shaking.

  With a single snap of my thumb and ring finger, the blaze went out, leaving only wisps of smoke trailing off into the blue morning sky.

  “Well I’ll be damned,” I said to myself, stepping down from Lux’s wreckage. “Isn’t that something.”

  In the distance, the magical flare went off again.

  For some reason that I couldn’t explain, I knew it was meant for me.

  28

  I followed the flares into the forest. Maybe not the smartest idea, given what had transpired there only a few nights before, but I was confident that my new abilities would get me out of any jam.

  Besides, it wasn’t like the troll had won last time, anyway. So what was there to be concerned about?

  A lot, apparently, as a punch rocketed out from the trees, catching me totally unaware. The essence had some afterglow side effects, one of which was walking around like a pothead after ripping the bong. Hopefully that would subside.

  My jaw ached as I turned to face whoever had attacked me.

  “You got my package?” A smooth voice with a light Spanish accent asked from the trees.

  “I’ll burn this damn place to the ground.” I started to say the words to the spell, but another punch slammed against my nose. Blood dripped into the soil.

  “I wouldn’t,” the voice said.

  Whoever this son-of-a-bitch was, he was a quick one. “Come and fight me in the open.”

  “I believe that would be unwise,” the voice said. “Your aura is strong.”

  “Damn right it is,” I said, trying to shake the cobwebs out. But, to be honest, I was all hat and no cattle at the moment, sitting on my ass in my torn clothing. Getting up would be a challenge.

  A shadowy figure appeared at the edge of the foliage. My vision was blurry, but I made out the shape of a wooden staff and a man in lengthy black robes.

  Wizards.

  God, I hated wizards.

  Sanctimonious douches, the lot of them.

  He stepped into the path, brandishing his staff like a club. Not an old man, not a young man, but caught somewhere in between. His peppercorn hair was tied back in a neat bun. From the veins in his hand, it was clear he exercised and kept himself in shape.

  The punches to the head told me that, too.

  I made a move to get up, but he pushed me down with the staff.

  “The next one is with the stick,” the man said. “That one hurts a lot.”

  “I bet it does, asshole,” I said.

  “I came to see my daughter and check up on you,” the man said.

  “Funny, because I don’t know you, or your daughter.” I gave him a twisted smile and looked up. Then I saw it. The same emerald green eyes, shining fiercely at me.

  “Now you understand,” the man said. He placed the staff aside, and offered me his hand. “Javier.”

  “Kalos,” I said, unsteady as I got to my feet. “Your daughter’s gone.”

  “What do you mean?” His face flashed with parental concern.

  I explained the situation as best I could.

>   His shoulders slumped slightly when I was finished.

  “I’ll get her back.”

  “You are not the man I thought you were,” he said, brushing my hand aside. “A half-demon, felled by a wizard.”

  “If you want me to kill you now, I can.”

  His lips curled up in a bitter smile. “It is funny, demon.”

  “I don’t see much that’s funny.”

  “My family searches for you for many centuries. Our destiny, it has been written, is to help the half-demon achieve his and restore balance to the world. And then, I find you. And…you are this man.”

  “And what kind of man are you, mailing your family’s destiny overnight?”

  “Perhaps I sensed the pathetic futility of our task. That the man would be a disappointment.”

  I glanced down at my tattered clothing and felt my heart begin to smolder. “I’d watch your tone.”

  “Very well. I will tell you the truth.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “I did not wish to meet a demon in the flesh. You are vile.”

  “Glad we’re on the same side,” I said. “What made you change your mind?”

  “I learned my daughter lived nearby.” He wiped his man bun and looked up at the starry canopy in despair. “And I thought she might be in danger.”

  “Sorry not to disappoint. But I’m working on getting her back.”

  “There is no use. You have already lost. If I can defeat you, there is no hope.”

  “I have places to be, if you’re done being mopey.” I crossed my arms and tapped my boot impatiently.

  “My baby girl…”

  Javier dropped to the ground, muttering to himself.

  What did I tell you about wizards? The reason it probably took this asshole so long to find me is that they hate demons. Irrational prejudice. Actually, if I really wanted to be honest, totally rational. But I was the exception to the rule and got caught in a wide net.

  To his credit, I was in about the same position of despair, minus the histrionics. Detective Scott had blown a bazooka-sized hole in my original plan to summon Isabella, pump her for information, and get Nadia back.

  But maybe Javier knew something about this destiny I didn’t.

  “Hey,” I said. He didn’t stop murmuring. So I kicked him.

  Bad move. His hands were on his staff, and he reflexively uttered a defense spell that blew me back into one of the trees.

  As I mentioned, me and wizards, man.

  The f’in worst.

  “Fantastic,” I said between groans. “Now I’m fully awake.”

  “This is where we part ways, demon. My daughter is gone.”

  “You give up pretty quick.”

  “The practitioners of the dark arts show no mercy,” Javier said, beginning to trot away with his staff dragging sadly along the forest floor. “Better to accept fate than be a fool.”

  “That would make a great poster,” I said. “We’ll put your sad ass looking face right in the center.”

  “Do as you wish, demon.”

  “I can get her back,” I said. “But I can’t be two places at once.”

  He stopped moving, but didn’t turn. “I will not work with a demon.”

  “And yet, here you are, having dedicated your entire sad-sack life to finding a disappointment.” I pushed off the elm tree and stumbled down to the path.

  Hopefully I could make a convincing pitch.

  His chin held high, the wizard refused to look my way. Whatever. I didn’t need him to.

  “We can get Nadia back,” I said. “I promise.”

  “Do not make claims that are false.”

  “I never do,” I said.

  This time he looked at me, his emerald green eyes blazing. “Then tell me what it is you plan to do, demon.”

  “It goes a little something like this.”

  29

  I laid low until nightfall, driving the SUV into the empty desert where no one would be hurt in the fallout. Through Javier’s magic, we’d managed to make contact Isabella and flag her down. A meeting was set. He was just holding my place, making sure she didn’t sweep Nadia up in a tornado out of spite.

  The clock ticked over from 8:59 to 9:00 PM. That made three days. And yet, here I was, right on the edge of Inonda, still causing problems.

  No need to waste time.

  I stood straight, careful not to poke myself with the weapon hidden beneath my shirt. Then, channeling some of my new power, I sent up a series of flares with my literal signature on them.

  Athena would get the message.

  After three minutes of waiting, the night sky erupted with light.

  “Kalos Aeon.” Athena’s voice rang out from the heavens like thunder. Like a meteor, she crashed to earth before me, a curtain of desert dust shooting up around her. “Your insolence knows no bounds.”

  “Athena,” I said with a warm smile that was completely fraudulent, “a pleasure as always.”

  “It is not often someone ignores my instructions,” Athena said. “It is less often that a man literally calls for a duel. A pity. You were one of my favorites. Such an enigma of a man. A rarity to find someone forging his own path.”

  “If you’re sick of ruling the Crimson Conclave, I can arrange a changing of the guard.”

  She stepped forward, her armor clinking. The blonde braid trailed a stream of dark and light essence. Then she stopped, her eyes scanning me.

  “Your aura is different, Kalos Aeon.”

  “I need a shower,” I said. “And a change of clothes.”

  Glancing around the horizon with a suspicious eye, Athena said, “Is your vampire friend assisting you? Or perhaps the genius little dog?”

  Genius little dog.

  Argos would like that one.

  “Negative on both fronts,” I said, putting my cards out in the open. The sun had fully vanished, leaving on starry night. Perfect for a dark magic showdown. “You know, it’s funny. But I think I figured it out.”

  “What?”

  “Why you did it.”

  Athena took out her bronze blade. It reflected her glowing essence, its well-honed point menacing. I paid it no heed, as if she had threatened to assault me with a dandelion.

  “And yet, here you stand,” Athena said, her voice dropping into a guttural growl. “A fool sacrificing himself for no good reason.”

  “Well, I wanted answers,” I said. “And I figured you would have them.”

  “Enough.” Almost too quick to see, she rushed forward. The blade nicked my ruined shirt, slicing through the fabric with effortless ease. But I sidestepped, the new essence enough to heighten my senses and abilities to survive.

  “You’ll have to do better than that,” I said, backing up.

  She didn’t charge again. “No mortal has ever been fast enough to withstand that strike.”

  “Sorry I didn’t get the memo.”

  “You are allowed one question before I destroy you as I did the goddess Athena.”

  I’ll admit, that one got to me. I didn’t say anything for a moment, steeling myself before I said, “Why did you steal the wolves and unleash anarchy upon the world? And working with the Marksmen? That’s low.”

  The query took her aback. The blade dropped slightly. There was my confirmation, although since the discovery of the pebble camera the verdict hadn’t really been in much question.

  If I were armed, it would be a prime opportunity to get a blow in. Unfortunately, I had little but my wits and magic to fall back on.

  Well, I had one other thing.

  But I needed a larger opening.

  “That is two questions, mortal,” her response coming more as a spitting hiss.

  “Like one and a half, really.”

  “Very well,” Athena said
. “You are familiar with the Journal, I assume, by the smug look on your ageless face.”

  “Guilty.”

  “Then you understand,” Athena said, pointing the blade at me as a challenge. She understood my nature well, the battle within. My skin boiled, and I had the urge to rush her. A viciously knowing glint sparked in her eye. “The allure of such power.”

  “Not really.”

  “Then you are a small-minded fool. As are my Conclave bretheren.”

  The blade sang out, flung from her hand at lightning speed. I ducked, but not quick enough. The sharp point lodged in my shoulder, breaking the flesh on the other side. With a gasp, I staggered backwards, managing to keep my footing.

  “Impressive,” Athena said. “But now, I must continue my plans.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I learned of the Sol Council’s foolish plan to infiltrate our ranks with light essence bred werewolves. Spies that were loyal to them, but indiscernible from creatures of the dark. Ingenious, actually, but they were insolent to think I would not learn of such a grand scheme.”

  “And what of the wolves?”

  “Destroyed. A magical ambomination.”

  “You know, I don’t think you found the light wolves yourself.” My shoulder burned with the heat of a thousand supernovas. Taking my good arm, I placed my hand on the hilt and gritted my teeth. With a defiant smile, I said, “I think Charon led you to them.”

  Then I yanked the bronze sword out. Blood sprayed out on the cracked soil. The moon was a half crescent shining pale slivers across the desert. If it was my last night alive, it was a beautiful one.

  “That drunken fool with his ridiculous schemes,” Athena said. She spat on the soil. “And you, denying my gift.”

  “What gift would that be?”

  “Life,” she said. A ball of light smoldered in her right hand. I didn’t want to know what that was. Whatever powers she had snatched from the true Athena, I didn’t think my half-mortal skin was rated to withstand them. “A trial, jail—and a good man gets to live.”

  “I don’t understand.”