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Moonstone Shifter (Demon Lord Book 8)

Page 8

by Morgan Blayde


  Cleo’s voice trembled. She looked at me. “I don’t want to say.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  She looked across the table, past Gemma to her son.

  A blaze of insight lit up my brain. I stared at the guy, too. His face draining of blood, fear darkening his eyes. He looked tense, like he needed to run.

  I said, “You’re the guy? Jamison?”

  He slapped the table with a palm. “What? Me? No. Don’t be ridiculous. I’d never…!”

  “Yes,” Cleo whispered. “The Queen’s son. It’s why I ran off to L.A, leaving my mother behind. I knew no one would take my word over his.”

  “You’re a liar,” Jamison yelled. “I’ve never seen you in my life.”

  “I’m the liar?” Cleo stood, leaning on the table, trembling, but with anger now. Her hands became claws. Her tail lashed furiously. Her ears folded back and lay flat to her head. She’d gone spitting mad, just without the spit. “Then how do I know you’ve got a scar on your left side made by an old barb-wire fence?”

  “It just means you did your research on me. A lot of people know about my scar. It was in my school records.” Jamison turned to his mom. “You can’t believe her. This is a set-up. You know me. The demons are just trying to stir up trouble.”

  “Cleo, sit down,” I said.

  She did.

  I looked at Gemma. “There are easy ways to bring out the truth, to see who’s lying. You’re a magic-user. Don’t you have a compulsion spell you can use on these two?”

  “Compulsion?” She met my eyes. Her own were shadowed by fear. Part of her wasn’t surprised by the accusations. She might have heard whispers for years, disregarding them, giving Jamison the benefit of the doubt. “On my own son?”

  I shrugged. “If it will prove his innocence, why not? No one can say his own mother is out to get him. I know you’d doubt anyone I’d bring in to do the test.”

  Gemma drew a deep breath. “I won’t do it. Somehow, the answer will be rigged.”

  Josh stood. “I smell your fear for your child. I smell his guilt. I hear the lies in his voice, as the rest of shifters in this room do. If you haven’t the strength to judge him, I will.”

  Gemma hissed at him. “Who are you to challenge me?”

  Kat stood beside him, still holding his hand. She said, “We rule the Sacramento pride. I am the mistress of the territory. Joshua is my mate and my champion. You will compel the truth from your son, or we will invoke the ancient law that lets us challenge your position as the Voice of Bastet. She will never allow a liar to speak for her, and in this case, silence is a lie.”

  “We have the protection of the truce here,” Gemma said. “You can’t do anything.”

  I smiled. “Oh, did I forget to mention that they are not part of my clan, and can pretty much do what they want?”

  Colt joined the rest of those standing. He turned sad eyes on Gemma. “If your son hurt Aunt Cleo, and others, you have to do the right thing.”

  Cleo cleared her voice. “As the victim, I’m willing to accept castration instead of death. That will send just as strong a message.”

  There was a long silence. Finally, Gemma said. “I’ll use the spell.”

  Jamison broke for the door.

  “Let him go,” I called to the guards.

  He got out the door, bursting past his own people, and kept going.

  I said, “He knew you’d discover his guilt. He’s convicted himself by running.”

  Gemma looked older than when she’d entered the room. She signaled to her people. “Go after him. See that the castration is carried out.” They ran out, obeying their queen. She turned to Cleo. “I thank you for your mercy.”

  Cleo said, “I’m sorry for your pain.”

  “I have to go,” Gemma climbed to her feet. “We’ll speak of hunting the monster…later.”

  Kat said, “We withdraw our challenge.”

  Gemma ignored them, moving like someone entranced toward the door.

  Colt came running around the table, intending to catch up with her.

  I caught him. “No. Let her go.”

  There were tears in his eyes. “But she’s hurting.”

  “Pain is life. It’s how we know we’re alive.” I held him with my stare. “She needs some time alone. You want to help her, let her deal with her pain her own way.”

  He turned and watched her enter the hall. “Will she still be friends with us?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “She made me a grilled cheese last night. Two kinds of cheese and smoked ham. It was good.”

  I sighed. “I feel your pain.”

  TEN

  “Families are necessary injuries

  that we inflict upon ourselves.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  I looked at Cleo. “Why don’t you and Solstice get on with that little job I gave you. It will take your mind off things.”

  “What if that monster shows up?” Cleo asked.

  “Take Josh and Kat with you. He needs a new area rug for his man-cave.”

  “What are you going to do?” Kat asked.

  “I’m going up to the roof so I can change and fly out there. I’ll be your aerial support.”

  “You’re doing a partial change, or going as a dragon?” the Old Man asked.

  “Full change. I’ll stay high enough in the air, in the sun, so I won’t be noticed.” I settled an arm on Colt’s shoulders. “Want to fly along? You can play bait on the ground with the rest.” Since he could throw lightning in his human form, or—unlike me—go full dragon instantaneously, I didn’t worry much he’d get hurt.

  His face brightened. “That would be awesome!”

  I didn’t want him disappointed if things didn’t work out. “There’s no guarantee the demon-sloth will come out to play, but if he does—”

  “We’ll be ready!” I saw some of his mother in Colt’s predatory smile. It eased my mind even more about taking him.

  Two dragons, a were-liger, a combat-trained pixie, a teen witch, and two were-cat ladies: I felt sorry for the demon-sloth.

  As the meeting broke up, I dragged Colt out of the room. We made our way to an area of roof with a lot of air-conditioning equipment. Off to the side, yellow lines on the concrete designated a place for helicopters to land. I think the helipad was left over from a previous owner. No chopper sat there now.

  “Perfect.”

  “Camera, Dad.” Colt pointed at a wall mounted unit. “We don’t want to get on the evening news.”

  “Weather’s changing,” I said. “Seems like we’re due some copper lightning, wouldn’t you say.”

  Colt grinned.

  Children are amused so easily. I think I’m getting the hang of this fatherhood thing.

  He walked under the camera where it couldn’t pick him up and zapped it. Camera pieces flew. Copper jags grounded themselves on the booth that capped the stairs. We went to the helipad and stood with the markings between us. I began to shed my clothes.

  Colt stared. “Uh, Dad, what are you doing?”

  “Unlike pureblood dragons, I can’t do an instant change, not full body. And my clothes don’t magically go away, only to appear later when I need them. It’s a bit of a bother, having other dragons laugh at you because of it.”

  I don’t know why I told him this. Sharing my old pain freely wasn’t something I commonly did. Not manly.

  “It’s okay, Dad. Mom says you make a very handsome dragon.”

  “She’d know. I’m going to need about five minutes. It does get easier and faster the more I do it, though never less messy. I hope you’re not bothered by excessive blood.”

  He shot me a scornful glance, as if to remind me of his parentage.

  I said, “Never mind.”

  “Give me your clothes, Dad, and I’ll make sure you get them later when you need them.”

  “Thanks. That’s a big help. You don’t know the number of times I’ve had to run around naked, ducking th
e cops after a change back to human form.”

  Clothes folded, in hand, shoes on top, I walked them over to Colt. He took them out of my hands—and made them vanish into thin air.

  Something occurred to me. “You’re from nine years in the future, and you’ve never seen me change?”

  “Mom’s kept me on the Red Moon, out of all the exciting stuff. She only just said I could attend school on the Dragon World with Julia because Grandfather Kur made such a stink about how his people needed to see his royal heir, and get used to the idea.”

  “You’re his heir? What happened to you being my heir?”

  “Well, I’m not supposed to say anything to destabilize the temporal multi-verse, but…” He waited to see if I’d stop him.

  Fuck time.

  “Go on,” I said.

  He shrugged. “In the future, you give up your claim to the Dragon Throne so I can have it. You’re the official Regent though, until I come of age in dragon years. It’s how we stopped a war.”

  “I’m amazed I could be that unselfish. It’s not like me.”

  “You changed after…” He bit off his sentence, saying more than he’d planned.

  “After what?”

  “I’m sorry, I really can’t tell you that one. You made me promise. Uh, Dad?”

  “Yeah? Do you have to stand so close to me? You’re naked, remember?”

  He went red-faced, embarrassed. I showed him my fine, manly ass by walking away. Kids. You could tell he wasn’t raised among shifters.

  “Okay. Time to get this change on. Try not to get too grossed out.”

  A wave of jaundice spread over my skin. Ridges formed on thickening, itchy skin. Patches of scales appeared. Sweat trickled down my body. Internal organs began to mutate as my biology went crazy. Things slithered around to new places inside me. It felt weird. Every time. Nerves screamed in protest, but pain and I were old friends. I quietly endured the torment.

  Hunger set in as my cells went into a frenzy of growth. Time drew out, dragging its ass. I sank to my knees, trembling, muscles jumping, burning, bones melting, shifting into new alignments. Over the next few minutes, the roof became smaller.

  Watching me with avid interest, Colt dwindled to the size of a chimp.

  No, I’ve gotten bigger.

  Some nearby pigeons warbled in fear, beating their wings frantically as they fluttered into the sky—which was a shame because I could have eaten them all and a few hundred more. As I balanced on all fours, my vertebra increased, lengthening my neck and torso while filling out a new tail that burst off of my tailbone in an orgy of growth. My lashing tail grew a scimitar of bone at its tip that whistled in the air.

  My skin became a golden mesh of hard scales. My claw-tips were black. I turned my very long neck to stare at myself. Bone spurs jutted from my heels. Wing-bone spars spiked off my shoulder blades. These` spars sprouted secondary ribbing that filled in with a tough, living membrane. The skin and muscles of my back were torn by the sprouting wings. Blood ran down my back. The iron scent of my own blood made me even hungrier. Newly grown muscles, tendons, veins, and arteries filled in the wounds.

  Fresh scales grew over the wing membranes, adding extra protection. Lips writhed back from new teeth while my face produced a snout. My tongue fluttered out, tasting the air for scents. A new taste came up my throat: burning copper, the lightning within me that wanted out to savage the world.

  My inner dragon persona crowded me out. I became the passenger in his head for a change, watching the world through gold-and-black dragon eyes. I lifted my head and roared. The sound echoed out over the street. On other buildings, pigeons exploded into the sky, seeking escape.

  And people say pigeons are dumb.

  I swung my long neck, bringing my head toward Colt. A red-copper light splashed out of his chest, washing him out. The glow swelled and took on a dragon shape, one two-thirds my size. The glow dimmed, revealing a yellow dragon with a red flame pattern of scales on his sides. New wings swept upward, fanning out. Heat rolled off him as if the red flames were real. Little winding jags of red-copper lightning slithered down his four legs, grounding out. The air smelled scorched.

  He’d done in a moment what I’d labored painfully over. I didn’t resent him for that ease. Much.

  I asked: Ready to go?

  Sure.

  I beat my wings as I ran to the edge of the building and leaped out into space. I fell, swooped, and caught an updraft between buildings that I rode into the desert sky. A few moments later, giving me a lot of space, Colt appeared at my left side.

  I wasn’t sure of his endurance in dragon form. I told him: If you get tired on the way, let me know. We can always take a rest.

  Sure.

  The city shrank under us. I used the highways as a guide and we followed the same course the others were going to have to drive. My inner dragon, now the outer dragon, shared with me his exuberance at flight. He missed this most of all, being cooped up in a mere human, left to sleep so much of his life away.

  Could have been worse. You could have been born a hobbit with hairy toes.

  Colt said: You talking to me, Dad?

  Myself, actually. Sometimes I do that for intelligent conversation.

  He nodded his golden dragon head. Yeah, me, too. The Red Moon can be really boring with only Mom and me there. The gargoyle guards are cool and all, but they don’t say much.

  As we sailed across the sky, I thought about the loneness, the isolation of the Red Moon. Of that place becoming the definition of normal for a young growing mind. Selene would have had him with her in the dungeons while she worked, keeping an eye on him, letting him get an eyeful of her various experiments in monster making. He’d have run alone through the shadowed stretches of the great fortress, feet loud, nothing else disturbing the silence. Windows and balconies would have given him grim, dusty landscapes with only a harsh beauty.

  No wonder he taught himself how to escape the boundaries of time and space.

  The work of flying took little thought since my other personality handled that. Often, I knew what my muscles were doing only as the motion progressed. I caught winds and rode them higher, trying to glide on thermals as much as possible to conserve my strength. Following my course made it easy on Colt, too.

  Following me in life was going to be a different matter.

  Colt, I’m sorry.

  Why, Dad.

  I’m not sorry you’re alive, but I am sorry that being my son will bring you a harder life than you deserve. The politics alone of who I am, and who I will be… The enemies that will always hate us and want to destroy us… You didn’t ask for any of it.

  Now you’re sounding like the YOU nine years from now. I like the you here much better. We have more fun, and you let me take more chances. Besides, it hasn’t been that bad. In fact, since Julia started to live with us…

  He stopped dead. I wondered if he’d really let that slip, or was just teasing me with tidbits of the future.

  Red gave up his apprentice?

  Julia never liked the needles and blood part of the tattoo business. She wants to major in finance and one day run all the family businesses.

  That’s a lot to manage. I have holdings in Fairy, on Earth, and a few side deals going on in assorted hell-dimensions all the time. And then there’s the Clan business to be managed.

  That’s why she says you need her.

  What do you think of your sister? For some reason, I had a problem seeing them together. Maybe because I had no memories of the younger Colt which the future Julia would have grown up with. He would have been her much younger brother, someone to cuddle and to boss around.

  Colt took his time answering. I didn’t push him. He’d tell me, or he wouldn’t.

  He said: She’s a pain in the ass and I love her.

  I laughed, the sound coming out of my dragon throat as a growly calliope croon.

  Colt asked: What’s so funny?

  It seems like I’ve given you a normal f
amily after all.

  Hey, Dad, look! Wild burros. He tipped a wing down to punctuate his observation.

  I looked where he indicated. There was a string of six burros crossing the highway, one of them a brown-and-white mottled colt. The rest were brown, gray, and black, all with white around their eyes and on the bridges of their noses. Eyes were black and their oval. Their ears were shaggy inside.

  Kinda cute, he said.

  My stomach rumbled, reminding me I needed to fuel this big engine of destruction I’d become. Let’s go. I angled down, furling my wings as I dived.

  Dad! He followed me down. What are you doing?

  Here’s a life lesson for you, son. Dragons can’t afford to think of anything as cute. You never know what you may need to eat one day.

  Eat!

  The time for words was over. My dragon self fell like a stone, back-winging just enough to cushion my landing on two of the animals. They shrieked and died as my talons gripped them. My weight crushed them to the ground. My tail thumped the earth heavily. My neck lashed and my jaws caught a third burro, ending her life. I made a point of sparing the baby burro. The survivors hightailed it, hauling ass. Pun intended.

  Wild burros eat mostly grass, little fruit, so they’re meat is bitter. Still the blood alone proved a hot savory treat. I guzzled greedily.

  Colt landed next to me. He watched me tear, rend, and eat.

  Not going to join in? I asked.

  I’m saving my appetite for the monster.

  Suite yourself.

  Sometimes, I hate you.

  As well you should.

  I thought of the years of hell the Old Man had put me through. I’d hated him, too. Until I saw how the lessons eventually did pay off.

  Colt, I can’t let that stop me from training you for life. It’s what a father does.

  ELEVEN

  “Rationality is the death of magic.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  Hunger appeased, I hung in the sky above the property, balancing on the wind, riding thermals. I’d needed the burros for fuel to wait out the monster’s return. My dragon vision easily clarified those far below me. Colt was on the ground, back in human form. Josh and Kat stayed near him. I don’t think they understood that their hovering protected them more than Colt. He could walk through a zombie apocalypse and barely notice.

 

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