Moonstone Shifter (Demon Lord Book 8)

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Moonstone Shifter (Demon Lord Book 8) Page 18

by Morgan Blayde


  The bartender reached several escaping patrons and pulled them back, flinging them into my path.

  A kinder, gentler demon lord would have caught them, sparing them falls and maybe injuries—but that guy wasn’t around. I jumped over them, and smashed through the whipping fronds of a ceiling fan, destroying the thing. I landed near the outside door as wreckage rained down.

  The bartender swerved, diving out of a side window.

  It was on me to catch up to her since Guin was human and could never move fast enough. I went through the door, Cousin Kinsey crowding me from behind.

  “I hope you know what I’m doing,” she said.

  Out on the sidewalk, I skidded to a stop.

  The bartender hadn’t gone far. Her skin writhed off her, flopping to the ground while a new skin fluttered into place, a patch that stretched to fit. She made the change facing away, head down, so I never saw her real face. The new skin looked leathery purple, splotched with orange. I knew that skin. I had a pterodactyl demon in my ranks, a weak-ass warrior whose major power was flight and reconnaissance. I had the sneaking suspicion that he was dead and skinned somewhere.

  The skin-walker sprang into the air, fluttering wings furiously. Her bones would be hollow now, diminishing her weight.

  Damn bitch is fast. And getting away.

  “Kinsey, go dragon! Bring her down!”

  For once, my cousin didn’t argue. And for once, I was glad to have her around. I needed a few moments to pop out my dragon wings, but Kinsey could go fully into full dragon form instantly by magic. She shifted, putting a golden giant dragon into the air in hot pursuit. My tux jacket and shirt shredded off me, falling away in bloody tatters as dragon wings grew out of my still human body.

  Guin joined me outside the door. “Caine, what the hell?”

  Two cops ran up on us, their weapons drawn. “Hold it, right there. Hands where we can see them.”

  “I’m on the job!” Captain Guin yelled. She had one hand up, the other touching the badge she wore on a chain around her neck. “Here’s my badge.”

  The cops lowered their guns, but didn’t put them away, eyeing me and the raw wings from my back that were healing, sealing shut, and becoming functional.

  I stared after Kinsey, finding no sign of her or the skin-walker in the air. I doubted I’d catch them now. I could only hope my cousin was up to the chase.

  I pointed at the human skin on the ground. “Guin, I think you’ll find that skin was cut off from the real bartender. There’s blood on the floor outside the women’s room. I think you’ll find another skinned body inside.”

  “Damn!” She turned and pointed at one of uniformed officers. “You, go inside to the ladies’ room. See if we have another body in there.” She pointed at the second cop. “You, guard that piece of skin. It’s evidence in a serial murder case. And officially, neither of you saw a demon lord standing here with wings growing out his back—right!”

  Both gave her a “Yes, Ma’am,” and went to do as they’d been told.

  Guin turned to me. One of her hands flapped at my wings. “Put those things away.”

  I grinned, already letting them wither. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “You are not leaving my side until I get all the answers I want!”

  A real hardship, there.

  Izumi burst out of the door. “Caine, where are you running off to? I’m not done with you.”

  I turned and gave her a hard stare. “I needed you to have faith in me, and to follow my lead, but you failed. I’ve no time or patience for rampaging ovaries. I have a universe to conquer. I’m done with you.”

  She gasped like I’d slapped her. “Caine!”

  “Go back to Fairy and stay there until I want to see you again.” I still had my Demon Wings tatt. I used it then. The tingle of golden magic gave way to the pain of its activation. I felt my heart rip out, fall on stone, and get trampled by a herd of wild Mustangs. The pain vanished, but an ache lingered, one that wouldn’t go away any time soon.

  I walked away, concealed by magic, fighting the impulse to turn back as I heard Izumi’s frozen tears fall to the ground behind me. In my mind, I saw the Izumi clone that Selene had killed. A clone grown for spare parts. Shoving the real Izumi away was all I could think of doing to save her. Some things in the future, I chose not to face.

  The temporal integrity of the multiverse can go rot.

  I felt a need for solitude. Always being protected, under demon clan eyes… My body demanded by the harem… I sighed. Power is wonderful, but also a curse. There is a longing for simpler, saner times. The peace I’d found in the Old West, hanging out with Colt and Selene... I had the feeling that memory was going to have to carry me for a long time to come.

  I crossed the parking lot to my Mustang, deactivated the antitheft system, and locked myself in. I let the radio play loudly. Some guy started whining he wanted to know what love was.

  Idiot. Love isn’t the answer. It’s the problem.

  After a while, my phone chimed. From the Asia ringtone, Heat of the Moment, I knew Imari was trying to get ahold of me. She probably had Captain Guin leaning on her, demanding my return. I took out my phone, set it to vibrate, and put it on the dash. Tilting my seat back, I closed my eyes. Time flowed. I drifted on the edge of sleep.

  Crimson light filled the car, seen through closed eyelids. I ignored it.

  Selene lightly touched my arm. “Caine, what are you doing?”

  “Bonding with my car.”

  “Why?”

  “Cars don’t care if they stay in a garage for a while. Or if you look at another car. You have complete control. Go means go. Stop means stop. Left and right are always left and right; nothing is implied. A car doesn’t mind if you bleed on it. A car won’t ask if its rear fender makes its ass look big. And when a car is totaled, you can just get another one.”

  “I’m sensing a theme. Caine, open your eyes and tell me what happened?”

  I opened my eyes. The world didn’t look any better. I asked, “Why did you come at this moment in time? Are you the Selene of now, or from the future?”

  “The future? That’s what this is about?”

  Selene had no trouble seeing through my hiding spell. Women always have a way to irritate. They pick and pry, demand, and whine. Just can’t leave things alone.

  “Caine?”

  “I told Izumi to pack her shit and go back to Fairy.”

  “Before the wedding? That’s harsh. It’s like saying she’s not really part of your family.”

  “I’m trying to save her.”

  “From what?”

  “You know what. You’re the one growing magical clones for body parts.”

  “You really shouldn’t read too much into that.”

  “Too late.”

  Selene turned off the radio. “Pushing Izumi away won’t change anything. She’s already pregnant. All you’re going to do is hurt her more. Go tell her that you love her. She’ll grovel a little—which is good for her stuck-up fey ass—then you’ll forgive her and all will be well. Until it isn’t. No one is guaranteed a life without cares. The greater your ambition, the harder the climb. Make peace with it.”

  “Did I somehow grow a heart when I wasn’t looking. It used to be, all I wanted from a woman was for her to spread her legs on command.”

  “That was the younger, stupider you.”

  I sighed. “Stupidity is bliss.”

  “Bliss is a state of mind. You have to guard it, not run it off. Go find Izumi.”

  I opened the car door, slid out, and walked back toward the hotel. The parking lot was full of police and newsmen. The hotel was still in lock-down.

  Unseen by anyone, magically concealed, I regrew my miniature dragon wings. Flapping, I streaked up the exterior of the building, heading for my suite’s balcony. I landed and slid the French doors open. I went inside and shock hit me mid-step like a wall of ice.

  There was the skin-walker, still wearing the form of my demon minion.
She had an unconscious Izumi on the bed, a bruise forming on her forehead. The walker leaned over my ice queen, a skinning knife in hand. The knife had Izumi’s clothes cut so they could be pulled away. The walker held the edge of the knife to Izumi’s hairline, about to carve off her face.

  I’d arrived in time to keep Izumi from being skinned alive.

  I collapsed my wings to my back so they wouldn’t hinder movement, and lunged, streaking over Izumi and the bed. Releasing Izumi, the skin-walker stumbled back. I stayed with her, blocking the knife as it slashed up, seeking my entrails.

  The walker and I crashed to the floor. In demon form, the walker was stronger than human, but her flying body had hollow bones and less strength than a dragon. Still, she knew how to fight close quarters, delivering a hard elbow to the side of my head as I clawed at her skin. Shrugging off the blow, I used my greater strength to fling her high into the air, bouncing her noisily off the ceiling.

  The noise should have brought my demon guards running in from out in the hall. I groaned. Something told me that Izumi had sent them away. She’d wanted solitude, too. Apparently, I had no back up. And no phone. I’d left it in the Mustang.

  I remembered the Storm Fire pattern I’d nearly perfected in the Old West. I drew that pattern on my chest with shadow magic and ignited it with golden dragon magic. This approach didn’t bring pain, as the power answered my call. Jags of golden lighting wreathed my hands and arms. I smelled burnt air. I tasted burnt copper as electrical fire gushed from my mouth. The carpet burned. The smoke alarms shrilled.

  The skin-walker thrust off the floor, staggered, and used the wing flaps attached to her arms to shield herself from the bright lightning that armored me. She lunged for the bedroom door, seeking escape.

  My lightning moved faster.

  TWENTY-THREE

  “Completing half a job is

  better than none, right?”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  The massive electrical bolt sizzled straight through the wing flap of the skin-walker, burning into her chest. There was an explosion that muted her scream as she died and several body parts flew off. As my Storm Fire tatt faded, I saw the walker’s stolen skin go all crispy, splitting and peeling off the thief. Smoke curled into the air.

  I went to the walker, reclaiming the demon skin, pulling it off her. Underneath, I found a woman I didn’t recognize. She had the coloration of a Native American, a proud nose, high cheekbones, and ink black hair worn in tight braids. Her youth surprised me. She didn’t look more than nineteen, though many witches didn’t look their age.

  I checked her throat. No pulse. She was very dead. Without magic concealing her form, she looked like any college girl, in cut-off jean shorts and an olive-drab tee-shirt with a white buffalo on it. Over the shirt, she wore a necklace of turquoise beads.

  I heard a groan from the bed. I took a moment to stomp out some flames on the carpet, then went back to Izumi. Her eyes fluttered open. She touched the red bump on her forehead and winced. I scooped her up and pinned her tightly to my body. She struggled a moment, then realized it was me, and struggled harder. “Let me go, you idiot!”

  “No.” My greater strength defeated her struggles.

  She stopped fighting and just got colder and colder. Ice covered my arms.

  Time for confession.

  “I found out that you were going to get hurt very badly in the future. I thought I was saving you by sending you away.” She didn’t answer, but I could tell she was listening. I continued. “I didn’t realize that without me to look after you, you could die instead. I was stupid and wrong, hurting you for no reason. I’m sorry.”

  She still didn’t say anything, but her cold stopped eating its way into my guts. I just kept hanging on, unwilling to let her go. As the minutes passed, she relaxed in my arms. I pulled back a little to look into her face. Her expression was blank, nearly bloodless. Her irises were chips of ice.

  “Please don’t ever leave me,” I asked.

  “What’s that burnt smell?”

  “Baked skin-walker. She’s very well done. When I saw her about to cut off your face, I kinda lost it.”

  “Let me see her.”

  I let go.

  Izumi pushed past me, getting off the bed so she could see. I turned to keep Izumi in view. She didn’t go far, taking a step, stopping. “She’s so young.”

  “Old enough to kill with advanced black magic.”

  Izumi turned back to me. “Caine, you really hurt me.”

  “I know. I thought I had a good reason. I’m very sorry. Please forgive me.”

  She slammed a fist into my face, rocking my head back. It hurt, but did no damage. She shook her hand, wiggling her fingers. I took her hand in mine and bought it to my lips, kissing her knuckles one by one. “Is that better?”

  “Maybe a little.” The admission was made grudgingly.

  “The police are going to have this suite tied up for quite a while. Give me your phone and I’ll call Captain Guin up here to deal with this, while you go book us another room. I want to spend tonight with you. Just you. I’m going to love you within an inch of your life, until you beg me to stop. And I might not, even then.”

  “You didn’t sleep with that woman?” She held out her phone.

  I took it. “No. Now run along.”

  She left, muting the smoke-detector on the way out by throwing a dagger of ice.

  I returned to the skin-walker, rolled her over, and checked her back pockets for a wallet that might have an ID. Nothing. I stood and called Guin, barely managing to recall her number. My inner dragon had to help me with the final digit.

  He used my eyes to study the dead body. Well, that’s half the job.

  “Half the job? What do you mean?”

  This one died too easily. Hired help, probably the accomplice driving the Jeep.

  The phone chimed several times. Guin proved slow in answering, probably busy giving orders.

  “No wonder they’ve been running us ragged. We’ve been fighting two skin-walkers.” I looked on the bright side. It just means there’s still more fun ahead.

  The connection went through. I heard Guin’s hard voice. “Who is this?”

  “Caine. Before you yell at me, come up to my bedroom.” I gave her the floor and room number. “The skin-walker’s here. Come and bag your killer.”

  “You’ve got her! I’m on my way.”

  “Don’t worry, she’s not going anywhere.”

  There was a lull. Then, “Caine? What is the condition of the prisoner?”

  “Dead covers it pretty well.”

  “Cripes! Another body?”

  “Yeah, and not the last one we’ll see. There were two skin-walkers working together. The other one’s still out there somewhere.”

  “I’m calling in some magic-users to quiet things down and help with the usual cover-ups. Keep your people out of things. I want everything as normal as possible until the press leave—promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  Only half her job required catching supernatural bad guys. The other half was damage control, keeping the general public uninformed of the horrors that walked among them. There was no reason to hinder her in that.

  The connection dropped.

  I pocketed the phone, stripped off the torn rags I wore, and got a fresh shirt from the closet. I withered the wings off my back, becoming fully human in appearance. By the time Guin burst in with gun in hand, I had a blue shirt on, sitting on the bed, waiting like a good little boy. The orange-and-purple demon skin sat next to me, folded up neatly.

  I pointed to the corpse. “There she is.”

  Captain Guin stalked over. Her pet monkey, Hans Vidal, followed. The magical consultant didn’t look my way, trying not to attract attention. As they knelt by the body, Hans took out a claw-tip of crystal on a silver chain. He swung it over the skin-walker. The crystal deepened to midnight-blue, then black. Hans nodded definitively. “Black magic. I suggest purifying the body wit
h smoking sage before touching it. Dead, the skin-walker has become a cursed item. Her body parts would fetch quite a lot on the black market.”

  I lifted my eyebrows. Really? Good to know.

  “You guys got it from here?” I asked. “Or do you need a statement?”

  Guin stood and turned toward the bed. “Anything you say will not help. And we certainly don’t want the real events in writing. We’ll gloss over the woo-woo stuff, and simplify the facts. You just go along with the official line, got it?”

  “Yes, captain, my captain.” I sloppily saluted and strolled out of the room, across my suite, and out into the hallway. I dodged aside as police personnel passed me in the hall, coming off the elevator. I stepped onto the car and went to the lobby. Exiting, I saw police everywhere, questioning everyone they could find in little scattered groups.

  No one gave me a second look. I suspected that by now, Guin had issued a “hands-off order” to all cops should any of them encounter me. Las Vegas was shaping up to be really responsive to my needs. I liked that.

  Outside the windows and police barricades, I saw even more news vans, and reporters with cameramen. The cops were going to have make a statement soon. It was good they had a dead killer to keep some of the heat off.

  Not that they’ll thank me.

  The desk clerk was back on station as I walked up. I didn’t see Izumi, so I assumed she’d already gotten the new room for us. “Did a Ms. Izumi Frost just check in with you?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “She’s a good friend. I’d like that room number, please.”

  She consulted a computer screen. “That would be eight-oh-seven.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Uh, Mr. Deathwaker?”

  “Yes?”

  “There have been sightings, that is to say, strange creatures have been reported throughout the hotel lately, and now these killings…”

  “Is there a question in there somewhere?”

  “The employees are scared. They’re asking if it’s safe to work here. Some are threatening to quit.”

  “And what did you tell them?”

  “That everything will blow over soon, and there are always little problems to be worked out when new management comes in.” She raised her voice on the last word, making a question out of her statement, looking for my approval.

 

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