Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2)

by Morgan Blayde

  Have to push myself. The longer the bear has me, the worse things will get.

  I widened my eyes, forcing them to focus: ground, thick layers of detritus. I saw powdery chunks of rotting wood sprinkled about. To the side, a tree had fallen long ago. Its ripped loose roots created a pit that time had filled with a bushy tangle. There were boulders, thick with blue-green moss, showing leprous patches of white rock underneath. Old Growth forest. If this is still the Dream Marshes, then it been reshaped by the bear. No place like home, I guess.

  It occurred to me that I was upright, seeing the ground because my head was slumping forward. My hands felt numb, feet too. What the hell…!

  The bear walked into view, approaching me with a branch in hand. She dropped the stick, staring into my face. A haze of green light washed the color from her fur. The haze grew into leaping green flames. The bear threw back her head and roared, strong at first, then wavering, weakening. Her features ran like melting wax. The fur burned away, revealing bare, skin. Her whole body compressed, losing mass, snout, and claws as wings of raven hair grew out. The eyes of the morphing bear burned emerald at first, then dimmed, sliding into hazel.

  The fire died. A woman stood in place of the Spirit Bear. A woman who’d loved a man I’d killed, and I was at her mercy.

  A naked woman who made no effort to clothe herself. She didn’t seem to care, a common attitude among shape-shifters, human or fey. Her breasts were heavier than I liked, but not out of place on her stocky frame. Her muscles were well-defined, showing the benefit of strength training. Core training had also given her a six-pack. Her thighs looked like they could snap a man in half.

  I was sporting an erection. Uh, oh, dead giveaway.

  “Ah, I see you’re awake.” Her gruff voice was thick with strength. I think the bear had been trapped within her so long; she’d absorbed many of its ursine traits. “I was about to poke you with a stick.”

  I checked out my circumstances. Vines from trees on either side of me had been pulled over and tied to my wrists and ankles. I could see my hands were discolored, an angry red. They’d lost circulation. Even if I manage to summon my demon sword, I couldn’t hold it. That left other magic, but I didn’t want to start a battle when I couldn’t even walk.

  Well, that leaves charm and cunning, since my stupid shield has gone on holiday.

  I smiled in a friendly fashion. “So, uh, how about cutting me down? We should talk this out, have a drink or two. Really, I have nothing against you.”

  She picked up the branch and smacked my ribs. Her branch broke. She stabbed the broken, pointy end into my right thigh. “Sorry, not in a forgiving mood.”

  I looked down at the stick jutting from my thigh. Something’s gone wrong with my magic. This is the third time my protective shield hasn’t snapped on to saved me since getting kidnapped. When I was on the Red Moon, the dimension changed the way my magic worked. Maybe Fairy’s doing the same thing now.

  I shifted my stare to her eyes. They were disappointed. “You’re being brave. No scream, no whimper, no begging for mercy?” She cocked her head to the side. “Not even a flinch.”

  Pain and I were old friends, thanks to the payments I make to activate my tattoos. Besides, I’d hurt myself much worse than this before, shaving with a hang-over. Still, I didn’t want to add to my damage. Time to redirect the conversation, and see if I can make myself real to her so it will be harder for her to kill me. If nothing else, maybe I can buy time until my friends track me down. Assuming they’re bothering to look.

  “You’re like me,” I mused. “You know a lot about pain. It’s been with you a long time. I added to that pain. I can’t change that. But I didn’t even know you at the time. Or your lover. He was just a contract someone put out.”

  She stilled, hazel eyes brightening to a purer green. “Contract? You destroyed my life for money? It wasn’t even personal?”

  “Sorry, no.”

  “Wait, who else is my enemy? Who hired you?”

  There was no reason not to tell her, especially if it diverted some of her killing-mad off of me. “Offer came from the Loong Corporation in L.A.. They paid in gold, and gave no reasons for the hit.”

  She studied me carefully. “You’re telling me the truth. I can hear your heartbeat. It hasn’t changed.” She smiled unpleasantly. “Ah, I see. You realize I would have tortured it out of you anyway.”

  Nah, that’s not it. I’m a borderline sociopath. My reactions aren’t normal.

  I would have shrugged if I were able. “Maybe I’m just trying to make a small gesture here. Maybe I’d rather you hunt elsewhere, so I’m not forced to destroy you.”

  Women always admire a confident man.

  She laughed. “Destroy me? I think you forget which of us is dangling in the air.”

  “About that, what’s the point?” Gotta keep her talking, create a bond. Distract her from the fact I’ve forced my fingers around the vines.

  Flexing my arms, I held my weight up, easing the pressure on my wrists. At the same time, I tried connecting to Fairy, willing the vines to stretch out a little. When the moment came for a last-ditch effort, I wanted to be able to stand and use my hands. For that matter, if she left camp again, I needed to be able to run—probably for miles.

  Talk about a wild dream.

  Yet the vines were looser. I felt pins and needles as circulation crept back.

  “What’s the point?” she echoed. She sat on a rock, leaning forward, her hands on her knees. “Have you ever plucked the wings off a dragonfly? I have. Damage is the point. The insect, exiled from the sky, writhes in shock, made into a worm that can’t even dig. Death won’t come fast enough. Not for you either. You’re going to be a crippled worm, begging for death,” she brightened at a thought, “but you know, there’s a little bit courage in you. Impress me enough, and I will do you the honor of eating your still-beating heart.”

  There are times I really don’t like the answers I get. I nodded. “So, torture...”

  “Just a little. You see, I know your power comes from these marks on your body.”

  My tats.

  “Well, I’m going to fix that.” She grinned and stood, holding out her hand. Green fire burst up from her palm.

  Have to make my move.

  I focused on my Dragon Flame tat, willing it to life. I waited for pain to come, payment for the magic I needed. But pain didn’t come. I couldn’t feel that subtle warmth that let me know a tat was activating.

  Crap! Really got to go old school now.

  She took a slow step toward me. Then another.

  The vines on me turned to mist. I fell, badly, collapsing to my knees. I tugged the stick in my leg free, and scooped up forest detritus I threw in her face. Expecting her to block the moldy debris with her forearms, shielding her eyes, I launched myself at her like a linebacker.

  But growling, she closed her eyes and moved through the dirty cloud, ramming a knee into my collarbone. Fortunately, the blow didn’t land cleanly, or the bone would have broken, maybe piercing my heart. I was in trouble. She wasn’t letting thought slow her down. Wild Woman was embracing her instincts, making few mistakes.

  Very Dangerous.

  Her blow stopped me dead, leaving me hunched over, one knee grounded. But I knew how to punch through pain. I pumped a flurry of fists into her solar plexus, trying to paralyze the nerve center in her abdomen.

  It was like punching a steel bulkhead.

  Her hands lifted me off the ground, over her head. She stepped back and simply let me fall. The detritus padded the ground a little, and I used the judo technique of “Slapping the mat” to bleed off energy, reducing the impact. I was still jarred, my already abused brain floated in such a way that I didn’t feel connected to my body for moment.

  She dropped on me, hands hot on my body, then hotter. Red-hot agony dug into me.

  I bucked, to throw her off.

  She held me in place with strength borrowed from her inner bear. Her hands slid to other
places, roving from tattoo to tattoo.

  I sat up as she moved lower, slamming an elbow in that rocked her head, putting my back muscles into the blow. She growled at me, seizing my penis. The damn traitor was still hard. She said, “Your next blow will cost you dearly.”

  “Okay, let’s not go there,” I said.

  She kept a grip on me while her other hand continued to burn across my tats. Somehow, she flipped me over without losing her grip on Mr. Willy. Her knee went into my back as the burning continued. At one point, she hopped over me, pivoting on the knee that pinned me down. My cock was ripped off—almost.

  “Damn it, bitch, be careful.”

  She let me go.

  I fought to my feet, turning to see what she was up to, and staggered as too many pain signals flooded my brain. I looked down at myself. The skin over my tats was striped red with burn welts and discolored green as if some of her weird green fire had contaminated the dragon-blood ink.

  “Let’s see some magic now,” she taunted.

  Little did she know she hadn’t taken a thing; my magic had already been behaving badly. My balance was back. Despite the burns, a second wind had set in. I felt fit enough to kill. But I couldn’t match her strength or speed. I had no magic, no weapons, and I wasn’t going to die from pride. I backed toward the forest. A few more steps and I could try to lose her in the surrounding woods. Payback would have to wait.

  She smiled, green flames bursting out of her body. Her features ran, coarsening, reforming. Her voice deepened, “I’ll give you two-hundred feet, and then my bear will be coming. Wiggle quickly, little worm.”

  I turned and ran at my best speed, knowing it wouldn’t be enough.

  THIRTY-NINE

  “Run, hide, kick Death in the teeth:

  a warriors survives by knowing the

  proper time for every option.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  The need to kill the bitch burned in every cell of my brain, but thanks to Old Man’s training, my warrior instincts had kicked in. I followed a path of least resistance, letting gravity guide my steps. If I could keep heading down, I’d run across water which always seeks the lowest level in an area. I needed to break my trail. For now, that was more important than finding a weapon.

  The new burns hurt but could be ignored with my god-like pain tolerance. Still, they’d need to be treated; my body could still go into shock.

  Hugging a slope, the pine forest rippled downward, seeming to lean back as it did so. The canopy stayed heavy, filtering the light, wrapping me in a gold-green twilight. I moved with little jumps, knowing I’d stumble if I tried to slow or stop. That was last on my mind. Two-hundred feet and she’d start chasing me—like I believed that. She wouldn’t wait that long.

  I stumbled at a V as the land bubbled up again, almost turning an ankle on mossy stones in the crease. Turning right, I pitched myself along, running on one bank, then the other, also hop-scotching whatever stones I could find to leave less of a trail. Veering left around the base of a hill, I followed the crease into low hanging branches, and stumbled as a steep descent appeared. Skidding down the hill to a flat area of low grass, I was happy for the heavy calluses on my feet from martial arts practice. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t be running them to ribbons if this kept up.

  I heard a roar shivering the air. Not too close, but too close for comfort.

  I needed to use the environment better. Fairy wasn’t cooperating, so it was time to force the land to help out a little more. I wasn’t finding water, so water needed to find me. I closed my eyes and concentrated on an embankment. I made myself believe a concealed underground steam lay just behind that earthen wall, begging to surface. Cool, liquid-crystal water. I imagined the mineral-rich, gurgling glory of it bursting through the soil, filling the crease with a new-born stream, bathing my abused feet in—icy cold.

  At the sensation, I opened my eyes and looked down. Cold water gushed up my legs until the water was knee deep. It seemed too easy since I’d seen Izumi struggle so hard doing something similar. Maybe it was because she thought it ought to be hard. Maybe there was something really different about me, something from the elusive non-human part of my DNA. Whatever, I went downstream, stepping on a few rocks. I made sure I dribbled some water ashore, leaving a partial footprint.

  I carefully waded back to the mouth of the stream. The hole it came out of was small, but so was I. I climbed into the hill, slathering my body with mud which soothed my burn welts and would also hide my scent. Welcoming me, the land belled upward a little and offered a stone bench that was out of view of anyone sticking their snout in here to sniff around. I climbed up, settled, and scooped out more mud to cover exposed patches of skin, paying special attention to my feet which had been cleaned by the stream.

  I was just in time, freezing with caution as I heard wuffling grunts outside the hole. The inquisitive sound took on an odd reverberation, coming from only a few feet away. I held my breath, slowing my heartbeat with a meditative exercise. I heard a paw flailing around inside the pocket, splashing in the water. Then nothing.

  And still I waited.

  There was a final dismissive grunt, and the Spirit Bear retreated, shambling away.

  Slowly, I counted to a hundred and worked my way back down into the water. I was insulated me from some of the cold, but chunks of mud washed off. I could only hope the stream would dilute such evidence of my passing before the bear noticed a fouling of the water. I poked my head out. When nothing bit it off, I slithered out and headed back the way I’d come.

  Up a slope, through the trees, I reached the place where I’d returned to consciousness. Skirting that small clearing, I went on into unknown territory, willing the path to shorten, sweeping me back to my friends, wherever they were. I drove myself as fast as I could, knowing the bear could probably use the same trick, letting her obsessed hatred bend her trail to mine. Time and distance are never simple in Fairy.

  At one point, I snapped a branch off a fallen tree. Clearing it of smaller twigs and branches, I made a staff to lean on and to fight with if necessary. I pushed on, staying to rock where possible, trying to leave the forest floor as undisturbed as possible. The winds stiffened. Through a gap in the canopy, I saw the sky thickening with storm clouds. I wondered if they reflected the simmering rage of the bear, and if she were close.

  My strength was thinning steadily along with my endurance. That they had carried me this far was a testament to the value of the frequent orgies I engaged in. Such training had proven invaluable. Still, the effort to keep going did nothing to dispel my headache. Sometimes, trees would seem to divide and move back together. I’d taken multiple blows to the head. I wondered if it were possible to have multiple concussions at the same time.

  Have to check on that.

  Lightning ripped across the sky, green-white fire framing the branches above. A few second passed and thunderclaps—like bear roars—bludgeoned the world.

  The earth jumped beneath me in response.

  Limping along now, I noticed the trees changing character, becoming primal, higher and broader, with roots that belled out before sinking into soil. Like pythons sliding in and out of sight, the branches were leafier. The tree bark itself went ebony. The bases of the trees were streaked with graphite moss. I stopped and extended a hand to lean against once such tree. The charcoal moss extended tendrils with closed buds on the ends. The ends opened to form tiny yellow flowers with garnet jewel cores. The flowers rubbed my hand in affection.

  I laughed, understanding flaming across my mind like sunset. This part of the land must lie outside of the Dream Marshes, it’s the unclaimed borderland. Alive, lashed by the rage of the bear it wants to be claimed by something or someone else. It’s offering itself to me.

  There’d be hell to play with the other Elvin domains. The fey kings and queens would resent an out-worlder owning a piece of Fairy no matter how small.

  Hah, like I care! Fine, I need an ally about now anyway.

/>   I heard a throaty, ursine bellow.

  Close. Very close.

  I knelt and used old leaves to wipe mud off my thigh. Kneading the flesh where I’d had a stick plunged in, I broke a crust of dried blood. Fresh blood dripped from the wound, curving inside my leg, splattering the detritus. I brushed the surface layer aside and the blood hit bare ground. Drip. Drip. Drip.

  “Take of my blood, my heart, my strength, and give me yours. Dream and dreamer, we are one. You are unclaimed no more.” Winging the incantation, I hoped to hit the right notes.

  More of the weird greenish-white lightning seared the heavens. A lash of it drilled into the forest. It had sought me, but split a tree instead. Splinters of wood, and larger chunks of it, stabbed outward in a spray. I fell back, a piece of tree embedded in my shoulder. I pulled the wood out of my shoulder, laying it on the ground. The wood melted into the soil, absorbed along with all trace of my blood.

  I patted the bare earth. “Not your fault. I forgive you.”

  A sound like a mission bell—a god-awfully big mission bell—peeled, swallowing the thunder bursting over me. And strength flowed into me. My wounds healed. Beneath the mud, I could feel the last of my burns fading away.

  Like nerves flowing throughout my domain, I felt a part of each rock, tree, and animal sheltering in the forest. And like an ugly cancer, I felt the wrongness of the Spirit Bear, a thing of fury and death, lusting for murder. An enemy of life, with its own life lost, this was a true spirit, a ghost anchored to living flesh, feeding off a woman’s darkest emotions. It was no wonder the borderland wanted nothing to do with her. I felt each step the bear made. Each angry claw swipe on a tree bole was like a slash in my own flesh.

  Its steps paused. I didn’t need to turn to see her, to know she watched me with green-fire eyes, her fur igniting, dancing with green flame.