Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2)

by Morgan Blayde

  “You look pissed,” Vivian said. “Doesn’t removing the wolves from the whole situation simplify things?”

  I crossed over to her, taking point as we entered the oaks, passing an outcropping of granite. “Yeah, but I wanted to do the killing, especially since this is probably going to be blamed on me anyway.”

  Charlie’s creaky voice came from behind me, to my left. “If you take out the bear and she’s blamed for this, you become a hero. If you are blamed for this, and take out the bear, you are a useful threat and too strong for others to go against. You can name the new Master of the City and no one will oppose you, openly.”

  Good point. I’d still have to locate the dream stone I’d been paid to find, but the rest of this mission would fall in place.

  We stopped in a clearing where several wolves had been torn apart. Vivian studied the remains with cold detachment. Joshua sniffed around, paying as much attention to the tracks as the body parts. He froze, head lifted toward the bone pit over the next hill where the new Alpha had been chosen. We hurried on. I think we all sensed that the remaining wolves and their shaman would make a last stand here—on sacred ground, a place where pack magic and ritual would be strongest.

  I was suddenly very curious to see what lay over the rise.

  We reached the top and paused, staring down. There weren’t any places in the hollow to hide. Three wolves had been torn into very small parts. The blood smell was fresh, heavy, and metallic. I started down and my shield remained off. The threat was gone, leaving death behind and a strange piece of man-shaped sculpture.

  “What the hell is that?” Vivian stared open mouthed at the anatomically incorrect bone man.

  It was heavily damaged golem made of bone. I looked at the ground as I descended. All the bone slivers once underfoot were gone. I looked back at the bone man, trying to put myself in the wolf shaman’s place. “I’m a shaman,” I said. “My pack is almost dead. I’ve been run to holy ground and the big bad Spirit Bear monster is coming to eat my liver. What do I do?”

  “Run hella fast,” Charlie said.

  “Yeah, but I need to buy time so I’m not chased down before I escape.” I walked over to a pair of detached human feet. Bone ankle cuffs held them to the ground. I looked for other trapped feet and found them, pointing them out. “The shaman staked out the last of his people as a free meal for the bear, then animated the bone slivers, pulling them together by the power of that sacrifice so he’d have something to fight the bear with. By now, he’s probably headed out of state. When the Fenris hears about this cowardice, every wolf in the country will be after him.”

  Charlie nodded emphatically. “Good. Shaman like him give the rest of us a bad name.”

  I walked over to the sculpture. It stood on one leg, the other shattered at the knee. The figure was seven feet tall, solid torso, but looking skeletal elsewhere. Bone man hunched in a frozen crouch, but as I stopped in front of it, it shuddered, lifting its skull. One hand made a weak grasping gesture. The sockets of its eyes were filled with a bile green witch-fire that dimmed to shadows, dying out. The thing became heavily webbed with cracks. There was a soft, dusty puff, and the thing fell apart as a rain of bone slivers, forming a big pile on the ground.

  My phone chimed. I pulled it out and answered. “Caine here.”

  “It’s Kat. Five police cruisers just shot by, running fast without lights and sirens. You’re being set up.”

  “Thanks. Wait there for us.”

  Josh was back to human form, big, blond, and naked. Vivian was looking, but trying not to be obvious about it. A cute little blush enlivened her pale face.

  “Want me to run interference? I can tell the cops this is a PRT case, and pull federal jurisdiction.”

  “You’re naked,” I pointed out. “No ID. No badge. Highly suspicious. I don’t think it would work.”

  “Let’s just get out of here,” Charlie said. “We’re well away from the road. We can just head into the woods and play Indian.”

  “Lead on,” I said.

  Charlie and Joshua ran up the hill, leaving the basin from the opposite side than the one we came down. Vivian and I followed, with Osamu staying close behind us, watching our back trail. Ducking under an oak, we went on past a fang-like rock. A helicopter shot by overhead. It hovered over the bowl, getting an eyeful, as we kept to cover, putting distance between us and the massacre. We were all in good shape, except for Charlie. The guy was old and used a cane. He also had a beer belly. I doubted he ever hit the gym. Still, he proved a tough old bird as he hobbled on his walking stick. Maybe the spirits of rocks and trees were lending him strength.

  We angled across the wilds toward the gas station. After several minutes, we reached someone’s backyard at a dead-end rural road. Ducking past a chicken coop, we excited a hound that strained his chain, barking. The nearby clapboard house was dark. Then not so dark as lights came on.

  By then, we were on the road. I was pretty sure the gas station wasn’t far. Away from the house, we slowed to a walk, surrounding Josh so that if we were sighted, he’d draw less attention. I’d have loaned him my longcoat, but then my shoulder holsters and PPKs would stand out. Big as he was, my coat would have been tight. Josh could never have managed Vivian’s coat. Being naked after the action is over is a constant problem for shape shifters.

  We cut in behind the gas station as we reached it, creeping around the building. I stopped at a corner, peering around to see if the coast was clear. It wasn’t. A cop car had stopped and an officer with a clipboard was checking IDs, probably asking what the limo was doing there. With my newly heightened hearing, I heard Kat’s voice quite clearly. “Yeah, we were lucky to find the station here just as our car started to go out on us. Soon as this place opens, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

  The officer didn’t seem concerned about the red pickup truck. That was probably due to the magic of the fey healer. Using her glamour, she appeared to wear a chauffeur’s uniform, the cap on her head set at a jaunty angle.

  Behind me, Charlie whispered to Osamu, “She looks better in that outfit than you do. Careful, she might be after your job.”

  “I will not be concerned until I see her pull a demon sword out of her—”

  “Shhhhh,” I hissed.

  They fell silent. I returned my attention to the limo. The radio worn by the cop crackled to life. An urgent voice alerted him to the situation at the wolf compound. The officer tipped his cap and scurried off to his vehicle. In moments, he shot off down the road to join the other cops.

  We came out of hiding. Charlie and his fey girlfriend piled into the truck. He waved from the cab as he wheeled the vehicle around and headed about his business. From the passenger’s window, the fey threw a kiss at Josh’s naked ass.

  Kat glowered at her, shoving Josh into the limo.

  Osamu strolled to the driver’s door and got in behind the wheel.

  Vivian walked beside me, her shoulder brushing mine, her arms crossed under her breasts. “What now?”

  I shrugged. “Bear’s just become a priority. It’s got to die.”

  “No argument from me, though,” she dipped into the limo, “I could use a little sleep first.”

  I went in behind her, collapsing on the leather seat, pulling the door shut behind me. Kat had Josh by the bar and had taken out a handful of bar napkins. They were unfolded and placed over his private parts. Josh looked more embarrassed by this than he had by actual nakedness. Vivian stared.

  Kat glared. “What?”

  “I thought shape shifters were fine with bare skin,” Vivian said.

  “She’s pregnant,” I said. “She has hormones going off. She doesn’t have to be rational.”

  Kat shifted her glower to me. “Don’t you ever get tired of being an ass?”

  I leaned toward her, putting forearms on my knees. “Honestly, no. Toss me a beer, would you?”

  She grabbed a bottle and lobbed it in my general direction.

  I snatched it out of the a
ir as the limo pulled away, heading back to Sacramento.

  My phone chimed. I answered. “Yeah?”

  “Report.” It was Old Man, wanting a progress report.

  “The green flame assassin and her bear have wiped the wolves out, but it’s no loss. They were dealing with outsiders, making cozy with vamps, feeding street people to them. These wolves were never going to come around. On the plus side, I can use the threat of the Spirit Bear to scare the other factions into making peace and backing my candidate for Master of the City.”

  “Not going to be me,” Josh said.

  We’ll see. I looked at the napkins in his lap. Obviously, you’ll do whatever Kat tells you. I’ve just got to make it her idea.

  TWENTY-THREE

  “When done right, politics is a blood sport.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  Josh, Kat, and I rode in back of the limo. The glass partition was down, letting me see Vivian riding shotgun up front, next to Osamu. They were included in our conversation which ebbed and eddied as we avoided the grim business we were embroiled in. It was 2:06 AM by the time we hit midtown. That’s when I discovered that Kat had a background as both a juvenile delinquent and a professionally trained dancer.

  I shared the rather humorous story of the time Old Man dropped me off a cliff—a training exercise he called it. “Nearly killed me,” I said. “Good thing my head broke my fall.”

  Strangely, no one laughed.

  During a lull, I sampled a Red Bull from the bar. On my third sip, Vivian’s phone chimed. She held it up, turning in the seat so I could see the name on the screen: Aldo Roma. Her face went hard, angry, and even whiter than usual. Her dark eyes were brightening toward pink, a sign of strong emotion in the dhampyr.

  The name on the screen meant nothing to me. “Ex-boyfriend?” I asked.

  “No, the son of a bitch is my father.” She turned forward in her seat again, speaking into her phone. “What the hell do you want, and how did you get this number?”

  I closed my eyes and concentrated, relying on my heightened hearing for information. Kat and Josh fell dead quiet as well, listening along with me.

  “Can’t a father take an interest in his only living daughter?”

  Vivian’s ringing voice had a cold-iron edge, “You’re not my father. Father’s have souls. They care about their children. They don’t try to own them.”

  “I’ve made mistakes. I’ve been arrogant and hidebound, a product of antiquity.” Roma’s voice had great flexibility and range, managing to weep sorrow and regret, and hint at manfully endured heartbreak. “I was a champion of the Coliseum with all Rome at my feet”

  “Save the history lesson,” Vivian said. “I get it. You’re old.”

  “I’d like to see you.”

  “Not a chance in hot-and-cold running hells. Wait! Where are you calling from?”

  “I’m in town on business, and I thought—”

  Vivian growled into her phone, “You’re here? In L.A.?”

  Roma chuckled softly. “Now, Princess, you have to work much harder than that to fool me. I know you’re in Sacramento. So am I.”

  You pole-smoking son of a three-legged bitch!

  I had a mental vision of the bodies covered in vampire bites—dangling on meat hooks— back at the wolf compound. Roma’s business in town was very clear. From the low growl in Josh’s throat, I knew he’d made the same connection I had. I drained my can of Red Bull and tossed it across the limo, the partition, and bounced it off the back of Vivian’s head to get her attention.

  “Just a minute,” she told Roma, putting the call on hold. She turned in the seat to glare at me. “What the hell?”

  “Tell him you’ll meet him, but you’re bringing your boyfriend with you.”

  “My boyfriend?”

  “Me,” I said.

  “Why in hell would I do that?”

  “He’s connected to this mess. He’s been playing politics with the wolves and God knows who else. We need to find out what he’s up to.”

  “That’s not smart,” Kat said. “Give a vamp an inch and he’ll take a hundred miles.”

  “And he’s a Master vampire,” Vivian said. “They’re especially cruel and malicious. Why not just ask me to stick my arm in a woodchopper?”

  “I won’t let him hurt you,” I promised.

  Vivian’s eyes were blood-colored now. “How will you stop him?”

  “You’re here to back my play. It’s what I’m paying you for,” I said.

  “Caine—”

  I softened my voice, throwing her a seductive glower, “Trust me.”

  “Hell, no. I want a raise.”

  I sighed. “Fine.”

  She turned to face forward, drew a deep breath, and held it. A moment later, she let it out, putting the phone back to her pointy ear, returning to the call. “All right.”

  “You’ll come alone?” Roma asked.

  “Hell no. I’m bringing my … boyfriend.”

  There was a long pause. “Fine, but no one else.”

  “How many thralls are you bringing?” Vivian asked.

  “My companions will be near, should I suddenly become imperiled, but you and I will have our privacy.”

  “When and where?” Vivian asked.

  * * *

  Vivian and I bailed from the limo on 16th Street, near the Capitol, leaving Kat, Josh, and Osamu to cruise the neighborhood as emergency backup. There were few people out. Our steps echoed loudly on the sidewalk. On our left, along the street, were elm saplings. On our right was a three-story, red brick building. The street-level businesses were closed and dark. We paused by a white, wooden staircase that led up. By the lobby door, a sign read: White Lotus Steakhouse. There was an arrow pointing up.

  Vivian said, “Rooftop restaurant. Want to take the stairs?”

  “I’ve had a lot of exercise already tonight, and more is likely. Let’s take the elevator inside.” I opened the door and went in, Vivian a step behind. We crossed a white and green checkered tiles. A small desk was there but no receptionist or guard. Frosted glass lamps were attached to the walls. The wallpaper was a washed-out jade. I used a thumb to stab the call button of an elevator. There was only one. It hummed quietly as the car descended to pick us up.

  “You know enough not to look him in the eyes?” Vivian said.

  I nodded. “Not my first suicide-run.”

  “He’s a master vampire,” she said. “He can do a lot with his voice as well.”

  “At the first hint of danger, my protective shield will come on, and I’ll kick his ass. I might not even wait that long.”

  “You ever think he might be stronger than you?” she asked.

  The doors opened. I stepped onto the elevator and turned to show her my smile. “You think I’d want to live in a universe where such a thing could be true?”

  She stepped on, stopping a foot in front of me. “Caine, I’m being serious here.”

  I leaned forward and slid my hands past her hips so I could grab her ass. “So am I. Have you ever thought about leaving the Slayers and joining Team Caine? I can get you a demon sword like Osamu.” I brushed her lips with my own, pulled back, and came in again, teasing her.

  She ignored the first kiss, melted a little on the second, and caught my tongue on the third, opening her mouth to mine. Her arms went around my neck as she crushed herself against me. She pulled back, her eyes bright pink, fangs showing. “When it’s more than friends-with-benefits, I stop sharing. A committed relationship needs to monogamous.”

  “You do realize this is the twenty-first century, right?”

  She pushed me away. “Why do I get the feeling that if I were ever serious with you, I’d have to leave you chained in my basement?”

  The elevator dinged. The doors opened and she turned, stepping out, not waiting for my answer.

  The restaurant air was alive with the scent of grilled steak. Polished wood flooring was everywhere. Vertical beams supported heavy rafters which in t
urn supported a smoked glass ceiling. Water tanks displayed live lobster. The center of the space was a cooking area with professional chefs to prepare the food directly in front of patrons along a bar. Elsewhere, golden lanterns were hung, casting a gentle light across individual tables. Huge sliding doors were open so customers could walk out on the rooftop and sit directly under the stars, most of which were invisible in the light pollution of the city. The place was only a third full with well dressed patrons that looked like they come from the opera or some other type of show.

  A hostess intercepted us in a sapphire dress with mottled, orange and white koi swimming across it. She was a heavy-set, dishwater blonde, an American with her hair piled high, secured with chopsticks in an Asian style. “I’m sorry; we’re closing soon. There really isn’t time for you to eat.”

  “It’s all right,” Vivian said. “We’re just meeting someone here for coffee.”

  We pushed on, scanning the room. I was sniffing for vampire. Vivian of course knew what Roma looked like. From the name itself, I expected to find someone with Italian features.

  “Not here,” she headed for the sliding doors. “Must be outside.”

  I tagged along, my demon sword just a thought away. Outside, the concrete had been jazzed up with hunter green, outdoor carpeting. There were humongous red ceramic urns from which four-foot bamboo trees sprouted. These had white Christmas lights draped on them. Scattered across the roof, were more of the wooden tables and chairs, as well as propane heaters that were off, not needed in the summer night heat.

  At first, it seemed like no one was out here, but I smelled the sanitized road kill odor of vampires. More than one.

  Alone, my ass.

  One corner of the roof seemed to have caught a large patch of darkness in which lighter shadows roiled. Vivian headed that way. I followed a few steps and realized the vampire smell was weakening. Stopping, I turned back toward the main room of the restaurant and lifted my gaze. There above the door, casually lounging, dangling their feet from the lip of the structure, were two vamps in Italian suits. The suits were black linen, expensive, and almost managed to completely conceal the shoulder holsters they wore. Their shirts were blood red as were their pocketed handkerchiefs. Their ties were black silk. Both men had slicked back hair and orangey eyes that glowed like dying embers.