He stared back in silence.
“Never mind, just thinking out loud,” I said.
Well, time to change the subject and get down to business. “So, tell me everything you know about Kat and her missing Pride.”
“She’s in Shreveport, hiding. Don’t spread it around too much.”
“Only to my allies.” I crossed my heart over the puncture in my sweatshirt. “Word of the King of Fairy.”
And over the island, mission bells shivered the air, pealing loudly.
“That’s going to get annoying,” I said.
TEN
“Gruesome death is usually
opportunity in disguise.”
—Caine Deathwalker
A few hours later, I took Colt through my full-sized mirror, showing him how the enchantment worked. In one step, we hopped from L.A. to Malibu, to my mansion’s bedroom where the same magic mirror occupied another point in space. It occupied a third point in my Malibu Office/bar. And a fourth in my basement armory. With an eye to overkill, I planned on recovering a certain god-weapon stored here before hitting the road. But first, I needed to see if the Old Man was back in town.
Colt followed me into the hallway. I pointed at what had once been the dead end of the hall, at a dwarf-carved magic door I’d had installed. It didn’t go into the backyard, but led to Fairy, to the middle plains of my Dragon’s Eye Kingdom. “The door leads to my treehouse mansion, to the garden. You’ve been there. This is another access you should know about.”
“Cool.”
Turning away, we went down the hall and turned left into the kitchen. The house was quiet to my dragon senses. I heard no voices or footfalls upstairs. That left my combination office, bar, and rec center, a sprawling space. It’s door lay just past the stairs, accessed from the living room. My office had a mystic shield. If the Old Man was anywhere, I thought I’d find him there, going through my booze. We entered the living, following the right wall. I opened the door and stepped in, smelling ozone and seawater. There were clouds in the room, manly grunts, and the sound of slapping flesh.
I spun and stepped back out, pushing Colt ahead of me.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I don’t want to scar your young mind. Somethings, you aren’t ready to see.”
“Is Grandpa in there?”
“Oh, yes.” I guided Colt back to the kitchen. “And your new grandma, too. The honeymoon is still in overdrive. They’re going to need time to, uh, finish up and find their clothes.”
Damn, I’m going to have to replace the velvet on the pool table after this. What were they thinking? There are bedrooms upstairs and a hot tub out back!
Colt sat at the kitchen table, watching as I got the coffeemaker going. “Make you some breakfast?” I offered.
“Sure.”
“I went to the fridge, opened the door, and found it mostly empty. “I guess Osamu hasn’t kept up with the shopping here since we’ve been staying in L.A. so much.” I closed the door and took out my phone. I called him at the Clan House. He had a room in my suite.
He answered on the second ring. “Hai, Caine-sama. How may this lowly one serve his exalted master?” He was capable of normal American-style speech. He preferred to sound like Hollywood stereotype.
“Did I wake you?”
“Hai, Caine-sama.”
“Well, I’d like to say I was sorry about that, but as the new high king of Fairy, I can no longer tell a lie.”
“I understand, Caine-sama.”
“Anyway, I’m in Malibu with Colt. I’m touching base with the Old Man and hitting my armory, then I’ll cross back to the Clan House by magic mirror. Do you think you could whip us up some breakfast, say in about forty minutes?”
“I would be most honored.”
“Say, we’re taking a road trip to Shreveport, Louisiana. Want to come? They have some good casinos on the Red River, and Cajun music. There might even be a few werejackals we’ll get to kill.”
“Sounds delightful. I’ll pack a bag.”
I called Gloria next. She picked up at once. “Hello, luv.”
“Hi, Gloria. Up for a road trip?”
“To where?”
“Shreveport. We’re keeping it quiet though. Hook up with me at my Clan House. Bring weapons. Swing by and grab Vivian, too. Also, what can you tell me about the preternaturals in that part of the country?”
“Shreveport is werebear territory, but across the Red River, in Bossier, a minor vampire clan is building its power and presence. About a hundred vamps.”
“Are they ass-kissers or spoiled children that will resent our presence in the area?”
“Given any chance to win favor with Kain or myself, they’ll fall over their feet, rushing in, all puckered. But they’ll hesitate to enter Shreveport; it could mean a war with shifters. And word of our presence will leak out. The Vamps in New Orleans are much stronger—and paranoid. They’ve given Kain problems before. I don’t think we want them sticking their noses in our business.”
“Then they’ll be a problem when they hear about our official engagement. Maybe we should make a point of luring them in—and smacking them down—early on. It will spare us greater trouble down the road.”
“Maybe. How are we getting to Shreveport?”
I looked at my son. “I’ll ask Colt to portal us over.”
He nodded.
“Okay, I’ll get ready,” she said.
I ended the call. “That’s all right with you?”
“Sure.”
The Old Man and Kinsey strolled into the room, clothed. That meant I didn’t have to gouge out my eyes.
She wore her basket-hilted rapier in a leather sheath, connected to her belt with delicate silver chains. Her belt buckle, also silver, was set with a great, dark-red garnet. Her boots were ankle-high, black like her pants. And her top was an understated green, leaving her long golden hair as the star of her appearance. Her eyes looked metallic, like she’d painted them antique gold.
The Old Man wore black slacks, loafers, and a Hawaiian shirt, tan with green palm branches on it. He towered over everyone, a bald, blue-skinned demon with dark blue tatts and raised scars made by deliberate branding. As the last Atlantean demon, his power lay mostly in storm magic. I’d seen him pull a tropical storm and a waterspout out of a clear sky. He was also the one who’d first gotten me into shadow magic.
“Caine.” He nodded nonchalantly, like I hadn’t caught him with his pants literally down.
Kinsey echoed him, but my name came out as a sort of growl. “Caine. Aren’t you supposed to be running the demon clan in L.A.?”
“I’m getting ready for a cross country trip with Colt. I need to touch base with you guys before we go.”
Her glower shifted to a more pleasant expression as she saw Colt over at the table.
He waved. “Hi, Grandma. Grandpa. Have a nice honeymoon?”
The Old Man crossed the room and lowered his massive, muscle-heavy bulk into a chair. “Best memories of my life.”
Kinsey’s face warmed with a blush.
I grinned, deepening her embarrassment.
She caressed her sword hilt. I knew she’d stab me in a heartbeat. I dropped the smile.
The Old Man smiled brightly at his grandson. “So, a trip, huh? Where are you going?”
“It’s a secret,” he said. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
He crossed his heart. “I’ll take it to a watery grave and leave it there.”
Kinsey held up three fingers. “Eagle scout’s promise.”
I frowned at her. “You were an eagle scout? Not a girl scout?”
“Who wants to hock cookies when you can go hiking and camping.”
“You must have been a late bloomer,” I said.
“Dragon magic. Our human forms aren’t that rigid. Real dragons can alter appearances with only the dragon form staying the same.”
I frowned. “I can’t.”
She shrugged. “Like I said. R
eal dragons. You’ve got all that Villager DNA clogging up your heritage. It’s why you’re a midget dragon, too.”
Not anymore. But I decided to save that revelation for later. For now, I just ignored her bias.
Colt didn’t. His small face clouded with anger. “Don’t be mean to my dad!”
Kinsey sighed. “Sorry. You’re right. We’re more of a family now. I need to mend my ways. A little.”
Fast as it came, Colt’s anger evaporated.
He’s dragon-born. Give him a few years, and he’ll start hoarding his grudges instead of easily giving them up. It’s in the genes.
“Listen, Colt” I said, “I’m going to grab a few things from my armory. You stay here and catch up with the Old Man. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”
“Sure. Can I have a gun, like Julia? You gave her one.”
“Let me think about it.” I walked back to the hallway with the dwarvan door and turned into my room. There, I changed into one of my good Italian suits and a blood red shirt, leaving the collar open, and used the mirror to pop into my armory. The room smelled of gunpowder and dust. I went past the worktables to the main cache and removed my coat. I slid shoulder holsters on and went back to my favorites: a pair of PX4 storm semi-automatics. I dropped handfuls of extra clips into my coat pockets and put the coat back on again. I picked up a bag of flash-bang grenades and went to the secret entrance of my Malibu treasure trove. Disabling the defensive spells, I slid a section of wall open.
As I stepped inside, motion-sensor lights glowed. A pink Will-of-the-wisp floated over to me. His job was to fetch me at warp speed if anyone ever managed to break in here.
“How goes it, Bob?”
Boring, he said.
“Want to come along and help me kill Anubis?”
Thanks, no. I love it here.
“That’s what I thought you’d say.”
I moved past him and found an old pirate’s chest filled with gold coins and assorted jewels. I shoved it aside and pressed the wood shelf where it had been. A knot in the wood slid down into a recess. The shelf popped back to reveal a hidden cavity. Inside, on shelves near the top of the recess, were a pair of ruby-eyed skulls with filed teeth—the skulls of cannibals. They looked like book ends but were set so they stared at each other. In between, poking up from the deep shaft, was the gold hilt of the legendary Sword of Light, an ancient treasure brought to Ireland in past centuries by the Tuatha De Danann, the children of the goddess Dana.
I won’t go into why I had it—heh, heh, heh—except to say that fortune favors sneaky, slick bastards as much as the prepared, and I’m that, too. My hand hovered above the sword hilt, but I didn’t reach for it. That would have activated the last anti-theft spell, awakening the skulls. The unwary thief, getting this far, would pull back a stub if he didn’t recite the right code phrase to keep the skulls dormant.
“Goodnight, sleep tight, and don’t let the bedbugs bite.” It was a nineteenth century bedtime prayer parents spoke over sleepy children when tucking them in.
I reached in, and jerked back, testing. My paranoia. Yep, they were deactivated. I reached in for real and pulled out the sword. A spooky white-green light activated in the shaft as a fey illusion stone down there created a false image so it looked like the sword was still there.
“Nobody is happy before his death.” Paraphrasing the old Athenian poet Solon reactivated the protective spell, though the skulls weren’t guarding anything it all. Wheels within wheels, evil cunning wrapped in delusion, encased in shadow and misdirection. Other treasures had other traps, many even more elaborate. I pitied the thief that ever tried to rob me.
The sword I held was sheathed in a fleece-lined scabbard. The oils of the fleece were designed to prevent rusting. The wooden outer case was bound in red leather and had belts that could be cinched together so the blade could ride diagonally across the back.
I slid the scabbard on over my suitcoat and returned to my armory, resealing the door behind me. This sword was what I needed. I had lots of weapons at the Clan House—but there is only one goddess-blessed sword with the power to match Excalibur: The Sword of Light. If any weapon could break the death magic of Anubis, this one would.
I went back through the mirror, stepping out upstairs in my bedroom. I returned to the kitchen. The Old Man handed me a mug of coffee. I noticed everyone’s gaze going to the broadsword I wore.
Colt pointed. “What’s that, Dad. It has a lot of power in it.”
“That handle…,” Kinsey said.
I took a sip of coffee and sighed in satisfaction. “Yes, real gold.”
“Viking?” she asked.
“Celtic,” I said.
The Old Man narrowed his eyes at me. “Don’t tell me that’s…”
I gave him a gotcha grin. “One of the lost treasures of the Tuatha De Danann? You bet your blue ass.”
Greed shone in Kinsey’s golden eyes. “It’s real? And you have it?”
“I’ve been saving it for a moment of vainglorious excess. Which brings me to what I need to tell you guys. Kat and her Pride have been driven out of Sacramento by Anubis and his werejackals. She’s in Louisiana. Colt and I, with a few others, are going to save her. Old Man, I need you to take over the Clan House for me while I’m gone. Oh, yeah, vampire lord Kain has decided that I’m the reincarnation of his long-lost soul, so he’s insisting I wed Gloria so he can hand over the vampire world to her. And while you’ve been away, I conquered Fairy and became the new High King. Any questions.”
The Old Man and Kinsey stood there with dropped jaws.
Colt said, “Can we go get breakfast now? I’m hungry.”
“Sure,” I said. “Let’s go.”
ELEVEN
“Humans and monsters can’t exist
without cruel games; they define us all.”
—Caine Deathwalker
Colt leaped up off the chair and hugged the Old Man. “Bye, Grandpa.” He continued his reign of terror by flinging himself at Kinsey—who visibly fought down the impulse to draw her sword in self-defense. It only scraped out an inch before she slammed it back into place. By then, Colt had his arms around her waist, staring up past her bouncing tits, into her startled face. “Bye, Grandma.”
“I’m not old enough for that, she said. “Call me Kinsey.”
He offered her a crooked smiled. “Okay, bye Grandma Kinsey.”
She looked like she wanted to smack him but forced a smile instead.
Somebody sure isn’t used to children. I wonder if she’s using protection. It would be weird—and possibly dangerous—to have a new little brother or sister who’s both dragon and demon.
He let her go and came up to me holding out his hand. I took hold. Copper-red light wrapped wings around us only to burst apart in a feather-storm. The shavings of light settled to the floor and vanished. And we were back in the Clan House, in my bedroom. We crossed the room and went out into the main suite.
I turned toward the hallway door. The area in front of it was lined with terracotta tiles where shoes could be removed and stored with coats, hats, and umbrellas off to the side. Shelving was provided under the benches. Hardwood floors picked up after that, running through the main space. Only the office and two bedrooms had carpeting.
To the left, I heard Osamu in the kitchenette, singing some old Japanese folk song under his breath as he messed with pans on the stove. My heightened sense of smell classified the various scents: rice omelets, bacon, and pan-seared ahi.
I turned to Colt and motioned him toward the sitting area where two black-leather loveseats and crimson couches dominated the center space. I’d recently upgraded the furnishings. “Grab a seat.” I didn’t have a formal dining room. And the food smelled ready. In fact, I heard Osamu turn off the burners as the toaster popped up some toast.
Combat butlers, everyone should own one.
A massive bay window—steel and bullet-proof glass—let in natural light. The view was partly blocked by a plasma TV that
hung from the ceiling on metal bars. In the middle of the island, a glass-and-chrome coffee table had the remote. Colt picked it up as he settled on a couch. He pointed the remote at the TV, bringing it to life.
Osamu stuck his head out of the kitchenette and gave me a half-formal bob of the head. “Welcome home, Master. Breakfast will soon be served.”
There was a knock at the door.
I said, “Keep plating the food. Colt says he’s starving. I’ll get it.”
“Yes, Caine-sama.” His head pulled back into the kitchenette.
I went and opened the door. Lord Kain and Gloria stood there with an escort of demon guards whom I waved away. As royal vampires, both Kain and Gloria could endure sunlight. They romped in as I backed up, morning light throwing my shadow on them. I pointed at the shoe rack on the tiles. “Shoes off, please.”
They moved to the side to comply, and Vivian caught up to them, entering. She’d brought her slayer boy-toy with her. He looked like he ought to be comfortable in his cargo pants and a green-and-hazel camo tee, but that wasn’t the case.
Jumpy as a seven-tailed cat-demon in a rocking chair factory.
His slit eyes darted, cataloging everything. I noticed he had a colt ,45 on his right hip and a katana on his left.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him. “Never been in a Demon Clan House before?”
“Now that you mention it, no,” he gritted.
Vivian flaunted a sheer black catsuit that wore like spray paint on her athletic body. A black messenger’s style backpack with pink pinstriping rode over one shoulder. Her pink eyes hid behind designer sunglasses. As a dhampyr, her eyes were more suited to the night than broad daylight.
As Kain removed his sandals, I noticed him giving Vivian’s backside serious study, not that I blamed him. She wore calf-high black leather boots, and had her hair gathered high in back, allowed to fall in a sleek, black ponytail. And she wore a belt of fake gold coins. I could tell from the sharpened silver edges that this converted into a flailing sword. Her other killing tools would be in the backpack.
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