Moonstone Shifter (Demon Lord Book 8)

by Morgan Blayde

  No mercy.

  Julia looked at me. “Next time, I want exploding rounds.”

  Jamison’s pain took a few seconds to fully register, then he crumpled. The front of his pants soaked with blood. I thought he might need reconstructive surgery to be able to piss properly after this. Forget about rape or kids.

  Julia walked away from me, breaking our magic link. I could tell from Cleo’s sudden stillness that she’d spotted my daughter. Julia went to the bed, crawled onto it, and produced a military field knife from the inside of a boot. It took only a moment to cut Cleo free.

  By then, I’d dropped my magic spell. I checked on Jamison to see if he was still breathing. He was. And blissfully unaware, having passed out. I went to the bedroom door and called out to the gang in the hallway.

  “Bad guy’s down. You can come in and haul him away.”

  It took very little time for Imari to charge in and get up in my face. “Caine, you idiot. I had things under control. I didn’t need your help.”

  The door to the bedroom’s patio slid open. Jada with her monster handgun jumped in, followed by Leah. They had to have made number of scary jumps to get here, crossing from balcony to balcony to balcony… Their sense of duty and guts impressed me.

  Imari’s gaze flickered to them, then back to me. I figured their turn at a tongue-lashing was coming on fast. I interrupted Imari. “You did have the situation under control. But Cleo is mine, so she deserved the best rescuer we had. That happened to be Julia and me. We are legend. We rock. Rats everywhere fear us.”

  “Julia?”

  Imari saw Julia hugging Cleo, offering comfort. “You brought a child to a hostage situation?”

  “Worked, didn’t it? Listen, I know the guards answer directly to you, but I’d appreciate it if you’d lay off the girls.” I jerked a thumb toward Jada and Leah. “Considering they were dealing with me, I think they handled themselves well. I’ll work with them anytime.”

  They’re dumb enough to be manipulated by me, and as bravely loyal as anyone could ask. Perfect.

  Listening, Jada asked, “What did we do?”

  Imari smiled at them. “You did your job, and did it well considering who you were put on. Keep up the good work.”

  Jada saluted briskly.

  Leah merely said, “Sure thing, boss.”

  “What do we do with him?” Imari asked. “Give him to the police? His mom? Or put him in a hole in the desert?”

  “Patch him up and keep him under guard. I’ll call Gemma to come get him. She can owe us one.”

  Finished with hugging Julia, Cleo left the bed, and went to stand patiently in front of the fallen Jamison, who had a number of guns trained on him while his hands were cuffed behind his back.

  One of the guards said, “A healer’s coming.” He stared at the were-cat’s bloody crotch. “Hey, think we ought to put pressure on the wound?”

  “I’ll do it,” Cleo said.

  They got out of her way.

  She applied several swift kicks to his crotch first. “Someone get me a towel.”

  Julia hurried to the bathroom, returning with several towels. She gave them to Cleo who knelt and opened the man’s zipper. The towels went in. She leaned her full weight on them, making sure it hurt.

  I looked at my adopted daughter. “Come, Julia, our work here is done.”

  Cleo peered up over her shoulder at me. “Thank you both.”

  “Glad to help,” Julia said. “You ever need anyone else shot—”

  Cleo smiled. “I’ll think of you.”

  I put an arm over Julia’s shoulders and guided her into the next room, heading for the hallway.

  “Thanks, Caine. We always have fun.”

  “Dad. You’re going to have to get used to calling me that.”

  “So, I’m never going to make it into your harem?”

  Her teasing smile left me unsure if she were serious or not. I answered as if she were serious—getting my position on the record. “Not going to happen. I’ve thought of you as my daughter for too long. Anything else would be weird.”

  She sighed. “And so a dream dies.”

  “Well, there’s still Colt. He has openings in his harem.”

  “Never!”

  We were out in the hallway, my guards a few steps behind, heading for an elevator. Curious about Julia’s reasoning, I asked, “Why not?”

  “Same reason Izumi tells everyone she’s not in your harem. That would reduce her rank from fey co-ruler to mere concubine. It would be settling. I don’t settle. Since Colt’s in line for the dragon throne, I might consider him husband material—in some far-off future—but I won’t be one of many to anyone. I deserve better.”

  “But you said you wanted to be in my harem.”

  “I’d make an exception, to give you the heart you say you don’t have. You saved my life. Gave me a home, a place in dragon society. You’re a hero who straddles worlds; how could I not fall for you?”

  “We’ll always be family,” I said.

  My inner dragon nodded his head. What’s mine is always mine.

  I nodded to myself. Dragons don’t separate possession from love.

  My dragon said: We don’t have divorce, only murder, which settles property issues quite well.

  We reached the elevator and pressed the call button. After a wait, the doors opened. We piled on and rode toward the lobby.

  Jada said, “I want to thank you for standing up for us with Imari.”

  “She scares me,” Leah added.

  I folded my arms and leaned against the elevator’s back wall. “Imari’s the First Sword of the clan. She has to be able to command respect to do her job. But I am the clan, its lord. There are times I’m going to override everybody. That doesn’t mean I leave my people hanging when they support me as best they can. That’s part of my code. Every sociopath needs one to stay stable.”

  Stepping out, I saw some of our demon security talking to a couple guys off the street. We headed that way. Getting closer, I smelled were-cat. The strangers were Gemma’s people. That simplified things a little.

  One of the strange cats used heated tones. “We know he’s here. We tracked his scent in here. It’s fresh. All we need is for you to get out of our way and let us get our own.”

  “I’m the one you need to talk to.” My voice drew everyone’s attention to me. The tom gave me a hard, raking stare. He looked old for a shifter, suggesting he’d been turned late in life. He wore casual clothing, had eyes of china blue, and close-cropped gray hair. His bearing made me think he was ex-military.

  “And who would you be,” he asked.

  “Caine Deathwalker. What’s wrong? Don’t know your urban legends?”

  “I will know you the next time I see you. I’m here for one of my people.”

  I lifted an eyebrow, wondering if Jamison still qualified as a pride member. “Your people?”

  “I am Gemma’s Right Claw. Her people are mine also.”

  Right Claw was their equivalent to our clan’s First Sword.

  “We have Jamison. He attacked the were-cat girl he originally changed, blaming the victim for all his troubles.”

  The Right Claw sighed. “That stupid fool is just making things harder on himself. Did you kill him?”

  Julia piped up. “I shot him in the balls, twice, but he’ll live.”

  The Right Claw stared at her.

  “My daughter,” I said.

  He formally bowed to her with grave dignity. “A kitten with serious bite.”

  I said, “Once our healers are done, you can have him.” I used a thumb to point past the sign-in desk, to the hotel bar. “While we wait, I’ll buy you a few rounds. You can call Gemma and tell her that her stupid son will be returned to her soon—singing soprano.”

  FOURTEEN

  “And another body shows

  up. No, not one of mine.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  We’d been sitting at Tiki Heaven’s sandalwood bar for twenty
minutes when Gemma showed up, her pale blue anime hair a little disheveled. She strolled past the bamboo tables and chairs, under slow turning ceiling fans, looking like she really needed a drink. I had a strawberry daiquiri in a bell-shaped glass with a cap of whipped cream. She could get her own.

  The two were-cats I’d been entertaining slid off their seats, standing to greet their queen.

  I didn’t bother. She wasn’t my queen or an invited visitor this time. Besides, I had numerous kingdoms, so I out ranked her. Not that I stood on ceremony a lot, unless it served my interests.

  Julia was in a side room that held a video arcade. I didn’t need to go and look to know she was playing only the shooting games.

  “Have a seat,” I said.

  The bartender came over, a hot blonde with hair artfully piled on top of her head. She wore slacks, a white puffy shirt, and a fancy vest, as if she were some kind of riverboat gambler. I felt betrayed; in this kind of place, she should have been in a grass skirt with a coconut bra, wearing colorful leis.

  She asked, “Can I get you something?”

  Gemma slid into the seat at my left, moving a neglected beer mug out of her way. “Rum and coke. No wait, make that a rum and rum. It’s been a long day.”

  “Jamison should be ready for you by now,” I said.

  “Imari, your head of security brought him down to the lobby. Coming in, I saw him. He’s being taken home.”

  “What are you going to do with him?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “The sentence on him has been carried out. For the trouble he started today, well, I’ll let him cool his head, under house arrest, worrying about what might happen. Honestly, someone besides me needs to step in and slap him around a little.” The rum was placed in a glass in front of her, with a slice of lime on the rim. She gathered the drink in both hands. “The were-liger I met earlier today. He’s the kind of male role model my son needs.”

  “You could talk to him about it. Of course, Jamison would have to leave the pride territories and go to Sacramento.”

  “I’d welcome the peace.” Gemma took a sip, and sighed. Her guys remained standing behind her, offering silent support.

  I took out my phone. “Want me to call Josh and have him come down?”

  She looked at me. I could sense the wheels turning in her head. “Would you?”

  “No problem. Of course, I don’t know if he’s in the hotel, or maybe out on the strip with Kat.” I placed the call and waited for the connection to go through.”

  No one answered. I put my phone away. “No luck. They’re not answering.”

  “I heard,” Gemma said. “How is Cleo doing? I imagine this day has been harder on her than anybody.”

  I shrugged. “Kid’s tough. All this will make her stronger.” I picked up my drink and finished it in one long guzzle. “Well, you cats play nice. My daughter and I are going to go check out an antique car show nearby.”

  I was going to go get her, but I saw her coming my way. And she had Colt with her. They talked like long lost friends, with no strain between them at all. I attributed that to Julia knowing exactly how to handle him. I wouldn’t be surprised if she hadn’t already invited him along to see the cars.

  They came up to me as I got off my stool. I looked at Gemma. “Colt, you already know. This is my daughter Julia.”

  “A pretty little thing.” Gemma sniffed delicately, and turned her gaze back to me. “She smells like you, part human, part dragon.”

  Colt moved closer to Gemma. He laid a hand on her sleeve. “Are you all right? You were really upset earlier.”

  She smiled at him, and took a moment to brush some of his drooping hair back in place. “It’s nice of you to care. We should have another sleepover one of these days. You were being kind, but I know I’m out of practice making grilled cheeses.”

  “No,” Colt said, “it was really good.”

  Julia’s lips pressed together in distaste. “You need to find a man your own age.” She looked at me. “Don’t we have to leave now?”

  “We do, indeed. Later, Gemma.” I threw some cash on the bar and guided my children toward the door before Julia could mention shooting anyone in the balls.”

  “You were rude to her,” Colt said.

  “Was I?” Julia asked.

  “A little,” I said. “But who am I to talk?”

  Julia was silent a minute, then slanted Colt a steely glare. “I don’t want you hanging out with her. Something about her is wrong. And I don’t like her. She’s a bad mother who just wants another chance with someone else’s kid.”

  Colt’s brow furrowed. He looked like arguing, but his face suddenly cleared. A smile appeared. He looked at Julia with a speculative air. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  He thought the same thing I did; that Julia was acting possessive, jealous, her inner dragon’s influence.

  Now that she has a new brother, she’s damn well going to keep him.

  We strolled past the front desk to the great lobby. I found my security people lumped together with Imari. There were four men in wrinkled suits that carried themselves like cops. I knew the woman in their midst: Captain Guinevere Helland of the Las Vegas Preternatural Crimes Unit. A white-haired amazon, tall, wide-hipped, with D-cup breasts that commanded worshipful attention. Her winter blue eyes pierced like an artic wind, her irises pale enough to make her look blind. Her coral pink dress hugged dangerous curves. The shoulder holster she wore was white leather, the hilt of her gun mother-of-pearl. She wore the same silver necklace I remembered from before, probably blessed with protective wards so she wouldn’t have her senses glamoured by some villainous fey.

  She turned toward me as I approached, and I saw she wore her badge on a leather pad that hung on a chain around her neck. It really didn’t work with the pink dress. “Deathwalker, what do you know about all this?”

  “About what, Guin?”

  “That’s Captain Helland to you. Are you really going to pretend you’re innocent?” Her dry voice lacked warmth. In a lot of ways, she reminded me of my ice queen, Izumi.

  Imari edged closer to me. My First Sword said, “We’ve got a body in the parking garage. The regular cops and coroner are processing the crime scene.”

  “And the condition of the body was strange enough for the preternatural unit to be called in?” I asked.

  Guin said, “Seems to be death by immolation, by self or persons unknown.” She touched her necklace, narrowing her eyes at Imari, as if all her demon secrets were laid bare. “You’re a fire demon, aren’t you? I imagine there are a number of your kind staying in this hotel.”

  “I can vouch for my people,” I said. “If any of them had ended someone, I’d have been informed, I assure you. I’m sure—when your investigation is over—you’ll find this a simple case of spontaneous human combustion.”

  I wondered if this was Jamison’s work, something he did while breaking into the hotel. It seemed unlikely. Cat’s kill, but seldom play with fire. “Other than the garage location, do you have any evidence someone staying here is responsible?”

  Guin swung her icy stare back to me. “It’s still early in the investigation. We haven’t even identified the dead woman yet.”

  I smiled. “Well, if there’s any way I or my people can help you—”

  “There is,” she said. “Bring them all down here. I want to interrogate each one.”

  I leaned into her and whispered. “With a rubber hose? Sounds fun. I’ll bring the bamboo splinters and hot curling irons.”

  Julia said, “Now you’re being silly. Just have Grandfather bring down the Feather of Osiris.”

  I looked at her. “Oh, why would the detective want to resolve this in a few minutes when she can waste hours and hours running in circles.”

  One of the men with Guin touched her in back for attention. “I’ve heard of the Feather. It’s a fairly reliable tool for divination. As long as our own magic-users are supervising, we could get results quite fast.”

  I lo
oked at her minion. “And you would be?”

  “Hans Vidal. Part-time consultant to the Vegas PCU, fulltime mage.”

  A magician? Yeah, he did wear a slightly better suit. Probably one of those driven-by-justice types. The police can’t be paying that much to a consultant.

  Hans held out a hand, smiling warmly, an opposite polarity to Captain Guin’s chilly self. I smiled back and took his hand. He added a second hand to lock mine in. I felt magic climb up my arm. My own golden magic rallied and pushed his power back into him. While doing that, I willed a patch of shadow to darken in the air between us. The shadow became a hand, fingers tightly side by side, showing the palm. His eyes widened at the manifestation of shadow magic. They widened even more as the floating hand slapped his face. Hard. And vanished. He was driven into a twist and his hands popped off of mine.

  “Attacking a demon lord not wise,” I said. “In my less restrained youth, you’d be dead now.”

  Captain Guin said, “Assaulting police personnel is a crime.” She and her people had their guns out.

  “Not when it’s self-defense against magical assault that comes very close to rape. Do you really want to face those charges in the headlines and in court? It will be the public unmasking of the Preternatural Crimes Unit as well as its disbanding. Then there will be all of my civil suits against the city. Gonna be damned messy. Don’t let your consultant start something you won’t survive, professionally or otherwise.”

  Imari’s bald head was fully awash in flame, as were her hands. Several of my clansmen had ditched their human disguises and were showing clearly their various demon natures.

  And it was a good thing the lobby was so spacious with the furniture well-spaced out; Colt went from boy to dragon in a heartbeat. His scaly head looked down on the cops, maw open to display sharp teeth as he growled. Nobody laughed about how silly a yellow dragon looked with a stylized pattern of red flames on his sides—not when golden lightning danced over him and he looked ready to pounce.

  The cops looked nearly scared, ready to crap their pants. Only Guin kept her icy demeanor, making no threatening moves.