Blood Frost (The Half-Demon Rogue Trilogy Book 2)

by D. N. Erikson

  “Aw, shit, we was just joking,” Dax said in the back, his skinny ass now quaking.

  “Yeah, we was just joking,” Mountain Man said, checking his beard to make sure more of it hadn’t suddenly disappeared.

  I took a step forward and stopped. Not because I was trying to scare the shit out of them with a slow advance. More because if I went any further, I was liable to fall flat on my face. Which would probably ruin the whole murderous demon visage.

  Fighting gravity just to stand, I said, “Now about that—what did you call it?”

  Best to look like I just escaped from the pits of a tortured existence.

  “Haelstrom, Mr. Demon Sir,” Mountain Man said, apparently finding his manners somewhere near the paint-stripped dumpsters. “Like maelstrom, because it makes you strong, but it also makes you confident as hell. Like chill, like hail, you know, that stuff that—”

  “I know what hail is, you incredible moron,” I said. “Give me some.” I reached into my back pocket, extracting my wallet. “I’ll pay.”

  They glanced at one another. “Yeah, sure man, whatever,” Mountain Man said. He scrounged around amidst the chains hanging from his jeans, his hand emerging with a set of five vials rubber-banded together. “How many you want?”

  “All of them.”

  “That’s uh—well, we’re running a special.”

  “Fantastic,” I said, taking a hundred bucks out of my wallet and waving him over.

  Mountain Man looked like I had just invited him to his own funeral procession. “Naw, man, I dunno, I just think, maybe I should stay over here—”

  I gave him a stern look, and he shuffled over, head focused on the ground. We performed the exchange, then he darted back to the safety of the trash barrel bonfire, still avoiding eye contact.

  “Thanks,” I said, staring at the glass vials in my hand. “Now fuck off before I turn you into a rotisserie chicken.”

  The four men ran down the opposite end of the alley, disappearing into an abandoned building. My eyelids fluttered, and I felt an overwhelming urge to sit down.

  “You can’t sleep there,” Nadia’s voice called out behind me, and I smiled.

  “Just in time.”

  “You get the shit?” she said as I walked over.

  “The world’s finest Haelstrom.” I couldn’t open the door, so she did it for me. Tumbling into the car, I landed about half in her lap. By some minor miracle, I didn’t break any of the glass vials.

  “You know what this does?”

  “We’re about to find out.” I dropped one of the vials on her lap and tapped her on the leg, indicating I would need her help.

  She tilted my head upward and popped the cap off. It let out a slight hissing sound. The blood inside bubbled.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Just do it.”

  Then Nadia tipped the Haelstrom vertical, and the blood drifted down on my tongue.

  23

  It didn’t take long for the Haelstrom to kick in. Through the sliver of my half-opened left eye, I saw Nadia’s lips pursed in concern. Then a power unlike anything I’d previously experienced coursed through my bloodstream, mingling with my essence.

  I had heard previously—from Gunnar and Argos, following their chemical analysis of the compound—that the drug would kill most magical creatures in a supernova, PCP-like high. Administering the drug to a creature would make it subservient—as the mountain troll in the forest had been to Marrack. Hopefully I’d be stronger than that odious smelling bastard, since it hadn’t been too difficult to reduce the troll to bloody bits with a couple shots from my .45.

  I was also betting on a little bit of hearsay and rumor: that the drug, since it was made with Demon’s Mercury from Agonia, couldn’t kill a demon. We were immune. We were immune to a lot of things fueled by hate, vengeance, greed and lust. It made drinking a pain in the ass occasionally, but it had its perks.

  As I lay shivering and sweating profusely on the car’s leather seats, I wasn’t convinced the rumor was true.

  “Drink,” Nadia’s warbly voice instructed. I opened my mouth, unable to resist her command. Hot water dripped in like an endless cascading waterfall. It mingled with the blood on my lips, tasting of copper and bitter herbs.

  Haelstrom wasn’t getting rave reviews on the streets because of its taste. That was for sure.

  “Sit up. You’re ruining the seat.”

  I did as I was told, finding movement much easier than anticipated. Glancing around the abandoned slums, I also discovered that all my senses were working on overdrive. A bird landed on a bare wire, and I heard the electricity sizzle down on the block.

  “I—how long was I out?”

  “Fifteen seconds, maybe,” Nadia said, her eyes working me over, unsure whether I could be trusted. That made two of us. The veins in my arms pulsated like I’d just bench-pressed a tractor trailer truck.

  “Feels like hours.” I listened to the slightest hiss at the end of my words as the air left my lips. Was that always there? Did I always do that? The seat squeaked as I breathed. “No, no.”

  I clasped my ears and shut my eyes, trying to tamp down the sensory overload.

  “It’s okay.” Nadia rubbed my shoulders, trying to talk me down. “You’re okay.”

  For some reason I believed her. “You’re right.” My breathing slowed, and the senses gradually faded into a beautiful tapestry of life. It was similar to when I drank all the essence, before facing off against Athena. Except the sensation was even more brilliant than that.

  I wasn’t aware that life could feel like this.

  The comedown off this is gonna be fucking wonderful, Kal.

  I pushed the negative thought from my mind and smiled.

  “Where to?”

  “What do you mean?” I said, feeling a strange bit of loneliness—why was she asking me? It felt like my master had suddenly abandoned me. Maybe that was how Argos felt about the past couple months.

  Nursing the emptiness, I stared at her expectantly, eyes wide open.

  She gave me an uncomfortable glance. “Since this Hail Mary worked, where do I take you next?”

  “I don’t—I don’t understand the question.” My subconscious screamed something in the background of my mind that fell on deaf ears.

  “Tell me something,” Nadia said.

  “Anything,” I replied, a little too eagerly.

  Her eyebrow arched up almost to her hairline. “Uh, are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

  “Never better. Thank you.”

  She adjusted her seat belt and started the car. “You’re acting like a weirdo.”

  “Am I? If you say so, then it’s true,” I said. Although I felt cheery about it, that same strange invisible feeling yelled at me to cut it the hell out. But I couldn’t. Following her lead and being agreeable felt right, even when it felt wrong.

  “You can stop agreeing with me on everything,” Nadia said. “I just dumped the Haelstrom down your throat. It wasn’t a big production or anything.”

  A thought surged up from the depths of my mind, and I blurted it out before it disappeared. “Release me!”

  “What?”

  “I—uh, sorry,” I said, the urge dying. “Where to?”

  Nadia pulled on the parking brake and nodded, like she understood. “I release you, Kalos Aeon.”

  An invisible force seemed to punch me in the gut, sending me straight back into the seat. Breathing heavily, I wondered if, for a moment, Isabella Kronos had upped the curse ante again. But the slight fog in my mind cleared, and suddenly, I found that I could think autonomously again.

  “Holy shit.” I stared at the faded yellow lines as the car made a right turn. “You could’ve gotten me to do anything.”

  “Guess I missed my chance for a little fun.”

  My
phone rang again. Tina Chen, for the sixth time. I answered. “I’m busy.”

  “Mr. Aeon, I just got word that you’ve been cleared of all charges,” Tina said, her official lawyer tone on. “It appears that all evidence pertaining to your case has been lost.”

  “Fantastic. Thanks for the update.”

  “I don’t suppose you had something to do with that?”

  “Maybe it was your furry beast,” I said a little hotly. “Goodbye.”

  “Wait—my private investigator has reason to believe that Detective Scott intends to release certain documents that will…expose you. The man is desperate to punish you.”

  So Kitsune’s intel regarding Detective Scott’s intentions had been solid. That might make two whole truths the shapeshifting fox had told me over the years.

  “And why do you care?” I said. “Didn’t this whole thing start because you wanted your very own demon killing machine?”

  “Releasing the wendigo was a mistake, Mr. Aeon. One I am attempting to rectify.”

  “Why bother? Other than your professional reputation, of course.”

  “Because,” Tina said with a long sigh, “you’ve proven that you are not like the demons who killed my parents.”

  There was a bombshell. But there was no time to swerve away from the shrapnel. “And where is Detective Scott now?”

  “Heading home. 414 Pinewood Drive, Apartment 2B. If you hurry, you might beat him. Best of luck, Mr. Aeon.”

  “Why do you want me out of jail and out of the spotlight so badly?”

  “Because you’re the only one who can corral the beast I’ve helped unleash upon the world.”

  The line clicked shut, and I stared at the cross street ahead. “Turn. We’re making a house call.”

  “What for?” Nadia said, flooring the accelerator, wheels skidding as we rounded the corner.

  “Damage control.”

  Or damage infliction. Because even I didn’t know just what I’d do to Detective Scott when I saw him next.

  24

  There was one thing I couldn’t take away from Tina Chen, despite her Machiavellian manipulations: that woman was one badass attorney. She’d gotten me cleared for shooting Detective Rodriguez in the leg, assaulting another officer in my apartment parking lot, Charon’s murder at the hands of Athena, breaking out of jail and fleeing official custody. And using magic on Detective Scott, although I kind of doubted there was an official statute for that.

  Reflecting on my recent rap sheet, I understood why Detective Scott was about to go for the nuclear option. It was clear that I would never be brought to justice by more conventional methods. At least from his point of view.

  Having more than a few near-death scrapes over the years, I didn’t share the same conviction about being above the law.

  “Is that…snow?” Nadia eased off the gas as the car skidded slightly. “It got cold, all of a sudden.”

  “Like someone flipped a switch,” I said, an uneasy feeling settling in my gut. I recalled Sam Reynolds’ words: winter approaches.

  Apparently the Blood Frost had arrived in full. Unfortunately, it and the Talon of Frost remained shrouded in mystery. That wasn’t good, given that we were at the eleventh hour. I quickly fired off a text message to Argos, wiping condensation from the touchscreen.

  TALON OF FROST RESPONSIBLE??

  It wouldn’t win any literary awards, but it got the point across. Hopefully the dog had put his nose to the bookshelf and redoubled his research efforts.

  The snow started as small flakes that melted upon contact with the windshield, but as we drove up the street, the flurries came down harder. A few more blocks, and we were driving through a semi-whiteout.

  Teeth chattering, Nadia cut the engine. “I can’t see.”

  “Here.” I gave her my jacket. From all the sweating and excitement, my blood was running hot. Or it could have just been the Haelstrom. So much for chill. I felt ready to try out for the Olympics. She accepted the coat without protest. The leather wouldn’t do much against the cold, but it was better than nothing. “I guess we just leave it here.”

  “With the top down?”

  “No time.” The red glare of another vehicle’s taillights cut through the frosty scene, a hundred yards up the street. Detective Scott, maybe. I checked my phone’s GPS. “It’s a block north.”

  “Which way is north?” Nadia’s voice was full unanswered questions. Even intimate knowledge of demons, Ambrosia and talking animals hadn’t prepared her for a Texan snow. Not just any snow, either.

  This was a full-on blizzard, the likes of which I hadn’t experienced since my days fleeing from the vengeful hawk Vedrfolnir in the bitter Scandinavian wilds.

  I clasped her hand and began pushing forward, head tucked down so the flakes wouldn’t trickle down my shirt collar. It was a fruitless effort—the snow got everywhere, from my eyelashes to my boots.

  “It’s s-s-so cold,” Nadia said, the whipping wind almost devouring her words.

  I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. My eyes followed the little blue dot on the screen. In the street ahead, headlights cut off. I tugged harder on her arm, jogging through the accumulating powder. The phone chimed to announce our arrival at the destination. Peering through the flurries, I made out Detective Scott’s building. It was a three-story converted row home.

  “414,” I said, straining to be heard above the storm. “Let’s go.” Over the howling wind, I swore I could hear footsteps padding through the snow. It had to be Scott. I was convinced of it, and I wasn’t going to wait around for him to beat me upstairs.

  “I’ll go anywhere that’s warm.”

  We stomped up the steps and tried the door. Locked. Unfortunately for Detective Scott, his building’s security was lacking. The entrance was made out of glass. I punched straight through, ignoring the minor pain, and unlocked the front door from the other side.

  “Solved that problem,” I said, pushing the door open with the tip of my frosted boot. Nadia and I huddled inside as the door blew shut behind us. Her lips were almost blue. I was beginning to feel the chill, too, although I needed the cooldown. Everything had me running hot enough to blow a gasket.

  I glanced up the stairs in the foyer.

  “2B means second floor, right?”

  “I’m not the landlord,” Nadia said shortly, ice clinging to her black hair like frosty highlights.

  “Guess we’ll find out.” I wished I could hand her a gun, but her father’s condition had necessitated a quick exit from my apartment. I didn’t make a habit of crafting deadly potions with a .45 stuck in my pants, so it wasn’t traveling with me. “Stay behind me.”

  “Okay,” she said, rubbing feeling back into her arms as we climbed the creaky steps. If Detective Scott was already up there, he’d have an idea that we were coming. Didn’t make me feel good, walking in blind, but there was no alternative.

  We reached the landing, and I examined the short hall. 2A, a bathroom, and then a door that was presumably 2B.

  I played with the Remkah Talisman dangling around my neck. Hopefully the Haelstrom had given me enough juice to defend myself again. Properly. None of that smoke and mirrors shit. We reached the door, and I paused.

  “What, are you going to knock?”

  “Just give me a second,” I said, trying to form a plan. I looked at the rusting, slightly askew numbers. The entire hallway could use a new coat of paint. And a new carpet. The dirty thing was pilling all over the place.

  “We don’t have a minute.”

  In lieu of other plans, I kicked the door down. The cheap plywood crumbled without much resistance, splintering around the deadbolts at the top. I pushed the wreckage away, chunks of wood tumbling inside.

  Stepping through the broken doorway, I held my breath. But no one shot me in the gut. The one-room apartment was empty. The pl
ace was sad, unfurnished except for a desk in the corner and a bed. Case files lined the walls, stacked almost to the ceiling.

  “I think Detective Scott needs a lizard or something,” I said, heading straight for the desk. Nadia was right. No time to waste.

  “No wonder you two are obsessed with one another,” Nadia said, examining a week-old plate near the tiny kitchen. “Reminds me of your place.”

  “At least I have a dog.” I tried the locked desk drawer. It rattled, but didn’t open. Pulling harder didn’t work. Focusing the energy of the Remkah Talisman, I whispered “Firus ignitus,” hoping that I had dialed in just the right amount of power.

  An apocalyptic showing like the one at Tina Chen’s mansion would not be helpful. A steady beam of emerald light flowed from the Talisman. The lock sizzled and burbled, stainless steel dripping down the side of the black wood. I heard a little pop, and the drawer moved slightly.

  This time when I pulled on it, there was no resistance.

  A plate clattered to the floor, and I wheeled around.

  “I knew you’d come by, you son of a bitch,” Detective Scott said, his cheap suit covered in melting snow. His service weapon was leveled right at my eyes as he stood in the ruined doorway. Beady eyes glared at me, his bearded chin twisted in a sour look. “Let’s see what your lawyer has to say about this one, Aeon.”

  “No need for aggression, Officer.” I gave him an easy smile. “I heard you were trying to slander me. I’m just here to save you from yourself.”

  “Detective.” His badge jiggled on his waistband, but he didn’t move. Detective Scott was literally quaking with agitation, which made me nervous, considering who the gun was aimed at.

  Nadia squeaked, and he glanced at the kitchen.

  “Brought an accomplice, eh Aeon? What’s she do? Turn into a mouse and look for cheese?” A mean smile spread across his lips. Slush formed around his synthetic oxfords. I didn’t have time for this.

  But I was gonna have to go through him to get out of here, since he didn’t seem keen on moving from the busted doorframe.