Demon Lord 4: White Jade Reaper (12 page)

“That’s right.”  Her mouth returned, sliding down my manhood, struggling to swallow it all.  Growing tired of the effort, she straddled my hips and eased me into her.  She leaned on my chest, her breasts swaying as she rocked in place.  Staring down at me, her eyes had a dangerous and lusty intensity.  I had the feeling she didn’t get laid near enough.

“So, Caine Deathwalker, what was it about our service you took exception to?”

“
Your
service is just fine.”  I wrapped my palms against her breast, squeezing.  “I’d just finished making a deal with your father, and he decided to kill me rather than follow through on it. 

I was going to pay him quite well.”

“I wouldn’t want word to …
umm
… get around …
oh, yes
… that we’re untrustworthy.  Bad for business.  Perhaps I can …
umm, I love your cock
… make amends?”

“Less talking,” I said, “more fucking.”

“Anything for a … customer.”

A flight of broom fairies buzzed into the bedroom, whirling above the bed.  They weren’t alone; I heard booted feet in the outer chamber, the clatter of armored warriors, and a mix of angry voices.  Einion’s security had finally discovered that they had a problem—a dead employer.  “Lady Lysande, are you here?”

“Not now.”

A deep voice boomed just beyond the standing screens.  “But it’s your father, he’d dead, and we found some of your clothing near the body.”

“I’m fine.  And I’m finally the boss, so don’t piss me off.  Now, go away!”  Her eyes held a dangerous fire.  She quickened the pace of her ride.  Getting breathless, her eyes rolled back in her head.  I slid my hands to her hips, rolled her over, and pounded into her like she was the last slut left in a barren universe.  “Harder, harder,” she demanded.  “You’re not going to break me.”

Oh, no? I’d like to see you walk a straight line after this.

The armed men beyond the screen finally figured out what was going on, and left without another word. Once again, my cock had saved my life—or nearly gotten me killed, not sure which; we have a complicated relationship.

TWELVE

“It’s hard to kill what’s already dead, but I love a challenge.”
 

                                     —Caine Deathwalker

After a marathon bout of carnal pleasure, I napped.  Waking up, who knows when, I found myself alone in the bed, naked, half covered with a wolf fur.  The head was still attached, arranged so that it was the first thing I saw when opening my eyes.  I stared at the fanged face.  The glass eyes were very realistic. 

A sound came from the foot of the bed.  I looked that way and saw my missing clothing had been located for me. 
Thoughtful
.  Beyond the clothing, a shaggy, silver-haired eight-year-old stared back at me, her hand covering a laugh, as if she’d not meant to give herself away.  She too had silver hair and eyes—a family trait, I gathered—and wore a vaguely Renaissance dress with a blood-red, hand-woven vest. 

I pointed at the wolf head silently snarling at me.  “Your idea?”

“You’re not afraid, are you?”

“Terrified.”

She giggled again. “I’m Teramantha.  Who are you, and why are you in my daddy’s bed?”

“I didn’t think he’d need it anymore.”

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but we can still be friends, right?”

“I’m sorry, but I have to kill you now.”  She flicked her fingers at the wolf skin and said something in Elvin that I didn’t understand because she had no universal translator charm on her.  The wolf rug lunged.  That I understood.  A reflexive block kept its fangs from my throat.   My left forearm took the damage instead.  The wolf skin bucked, trying its best to assume a wolf shape though its body was gone.  The biting rug fluttered as I rolled off the bed, slamming to the floor. My Berettas magically appeared in both hands.  More annoyed than anything else, I pistol whipped the wolf snout, calling it everything but a son of a bitch, which would have been accurate.  The thing stubbornly refused to let go.

I released one gun—sending it back into the ether—to free a hand.  I wedged the hilt of my remaining semi-automatic in one of the hinges of the wolf head’s jaw.  This let me lever the teeth apart and free myself.  Snatching the rug at the nape of the neck, I held it off as it jerked wildly.  Blood dripped from my forearm to the floor, a lot less then there should have been.  My skin had gotten thicker, the more my dragon side grew in strength.  As it was, the slashes and punctures were getting tiny, already healing shut.  The pain was minor compared to what I normally inflict on myself, but I could have used a drink, maybe three or four.

I pointed my Beretta at Tera-whatever.  “Which ear would you prefer to lose, left or right?”

She ran for it, zipping around the screen, small feet clacking across the outer chamber.  With her absence, the wolf head settle down, becoming just a rug—with a bloody mouth.  I dropped it on the bed and dressed, sending my semi-automatic back into the ether it came from.  I left the bedroom, and headed for the office. 

When I got there, the body was gone along with the blood splatter.  Lysande was dressed, lounging in her father’s chair, her boots on the desk, to the consternation of the tiny broom fairies that kept it clean.  The marble manticores were back behind her, acting like bookends, immobile, with only a few minor cracks to show wear and tear.  Their wary eyes following me as I approached.

The salesladies from the Santa Fe shop stood facing the desk—and their new boss.  I stopped next to the shop girls.  Lysande’s gaze flicked my way a moment.  Wrapping up, she said, “I see no need to breathe down your necks.  Keep the books in order, show a profit, and one of you might well be promoted to run that operation on a full-time basis, with a commensurate pay raise.  And I want you to assist Mr. Deathwalker in any reasonable demand he makes, until I say otherwise.  One last thing, send my hounds back to me.  I’ve missed them.”

The salesladies bowed formally, backed away several steps, and turned with great dignity, heading to the main office doors.  I watched as they crossed the threshold and vanished, returning to the Santa Fe shop.  I turned to Lysande.  “Those are your mutts in the shop?”

“Yes.  Daddy didn’t like the fact that they obeyed only me.  He could be rather—what’s the human term?—ah,
anal
, that’s it.”  She gave my bloody arm an amused glance, smiling slightly.  “I see you’ve met my little sister.  Is she still alive?”

“Oh, sure.  I don’t kill kids, as a general rule, but don’t tell her that.”

Lysande smiled.  “Wouldn’t think of it.  Now, to business.  I understand that you have taken a kingdom.  Have you set a date for the official coronation?  Who shows up and the quality of their gifts will give you a good idea of those who are open to an alliance.  You’ll want the usual trappings of power.  You can’t get any respect from the fey gentry if you don’t look like a king.  I would be honored to design something appropriate for you.”

“I haven’t really considered the matter, but if you’re talking about a crown and scepter, gold would be more appropriate for someone who’s half dragon.”

“Hmmm, I have a cousin who married into a goldsmith clan.  She’d be grateful for the commission, and would probably pay me a finder’s fee for bringing her the work.”  Lysande used a thumb to point over her shoulder.  “She made the collars on the statues.”

“Well, I suppose I could use some formal silverware for my reception hall.”

“I can do that.  Who do I talk to?  You have a personal assistant, right?”

“A combat butler, actually.”  I took out a red-satin business card.  Gold lettering spelled: Caine Deathwalker, Risk Management Specialist.  The back of the card was plain white.  With a pen off the ink stand, I wrote a number on the card.  I replaced the pen and left the card on the desk.  “Call this number and talk to Osamu.  He’ll bring in Izumi.  Between the two of them, they can work out the details, and keep me informed.

“Izumi?”

“That’s the name she used while hiding out in the human world, before reconciling with her mom, the queen of the Winter Court.  Izumi will probably want some jeweled silver tiaras from you while we’re at it—on my tab of course.  One will be for a werewolf make sure it can’t hurt her.”

“Uh, that is a unique challenge,” Lysande frowned slightly, no doubt wondering if she could pull it off. 

When people dream small, their conquests are small.  I said, “Just think, when everyone sees your silver work on the head of a werewolf, your fame as a silversmith will know no limits.  So, give me a discount for the advertisement.”

“If I get new contracts from the occasion, certainly.  That won’t be a problem, and the rebate will give me a reason to come visit what’s in your pants.”

The more I thought about it, a formal coronation was a good idea.  Everyone loves a party.  The demons that defended our Clan House against the Blue Star Priestess could use a reward for their service.  Besides, it would piss in the cornflakes of the fey that objected to an outlander ruling one of their kingdoms.  Secondly, the event would invite an enemy attack that I could turn to my advantage.  The Storm Court had already sent assassins after me.  If I could get that repeated in a very public setting, no one would complain if I took out that kingdom, expanding my power.  All fey understand and respect the right of retaliation.  And it would make the rest cautious in their aggression.

“That’s a rather evil smile on your face,” Lysande said.

Withdrawing from my thoughts, I looked at her.  “Just planning some fun.”

Claws scrambled on the floor.  The arriving hounds from the jewelry shop lost no time in running to their mistress and leaping against her in joyful greeting.  Their pony-sized bodies should have overwhelmed her, seated as she was, but she didn’t seem to feel the weight.  Her hands rubbed their black coats, skimming across the dark green ripples on their sides.  Their heads nudged her, their ember eyes blazing in enthusiasm.  “Max, Millie, I’m happy to see you too, but settle down.”

“These are the Mountain Lands of Fairy, right?”

“Of course, where did you think you were?” 

“I didn’t really know.  My first clue was the silver mine and that big cavern through the windows, and the fact that you’re drawing strength from the surrounding earth.  Mountain fey are known for that.”

“I told you that you wouldn’t break me, though you’re welcome to try any time.”  She shot me a lusty glance.  “I am totally in love with your, uh, scepter of power.”

“What about the rest of me?”

She shrugged, suppressing a teasing smile.  “Not so much.  Maybe you’ll grow on me.”

“It’s too late for acting coy.  Like your legs, all your secrets have been spread out before me.”  I stood, and the tiny broom fairies sweeping the desk flitted away for cover.  “Well, I have to get my ass back to Santa Fe.”

“Take care of it for me,” Lysande said.

“Of course, he’s my better half.” 

I walked away from the massive desk, through the open office doors, and found myself in the back room of the Santa Fe jewelry store.  There was no sign of the gunmen I’d killed.  Someone had cleaned up here, too.  I continued on to the front of the store.  The two fey ladies behind the counter turned toward me as I passed.  They bowed deeply, their social positions among the fey a lot better now due to my visit this day.  I placed a business card on the counter and wrote the name of the hotel I was staying at on the reverse.  I told them, “I’ll want word on all preternatural auctions occurring locally as soon as you know something, and I’ll be attending as well.”

They bowed again.  The one in the periwinkle gown said, “It will be done.”

I crossed the store and let myself out.  Evening had fallen. 

The sky was awash in deepening shades of blue.  A few streaks of cloud caught dying red sunlight on their bellies.  I made my way to my Mustang and let myself in.  Satisfying the security scanners, I was allowed to start the engine.  The car rumbled as I pulled away from the curb and entered traffic.  Stalled by a red light, I called home.  Osamu picked up.  “Yes, Caine-sama, how can I be of service?”

“Is Izumi still visiting at the Clan House?”

“That is correct.”

“How would the two of you like to join me in Santa Fe for fun and games, and maybe a little shopping?”

I heard Izumi’s voice, “Gimme that!  Hello, Caine?  Is that you?”

“Yes, love.  Care to join me out here?  I have a party I need you to plan, and there’s a fey jeweler here I’ve commissioned to make us some things for my mountain keep back in Fairy.  You do like jeweled tiaras, right?”

She squealed in my ear.  I drew the phone away for a moment in self-defense.  “I take it that’s a yes?”

“Where are you straying?” she asked.  “I’ll portal over.”

“I’m in the Mustang, so that won’t work.  Here’s the address.”  I rattled it off. 

“Sure, anything else?”

“Yeah, watch out for vampires.  I’m working for a vampire lord, so he’s going to be all in my business.  You know how they are.  Actually, why don’t you see if Gloria wants to come along?  Having a pure-blood vamp on my side might be a good thing before all this is over.”

“I’ll ask.”

“Fine.  Gotta go.  Later.”  I put the phone away as the traffic light went green. 
Time to catch up with my troops and figure out our next move. 
I called the number Madison had given me when we’d left the motel, wanting to know if she’d given me the real one. Girls don’t often do that to me, but you never know.  She picked up on the second ring.

“Yeahello?   Madison here.”

“It’s your lord and master.”

“In your dreams.”

“Yeah, there, too.  Give me an update,” I said.

“The old house where those kids were found was bought up a few years ago.  Several buildings were added to it, one of them a performance hall.  The place is a school of music now.  The old mansion is a co-ed dormitory.”

“Has Grace done her ghost whisperer thing there yet?”

“She and Onyx
crossed over,
as she calls it.  They came back saying there weren’t any ghosts around.  That’s suspicious, right, given this place’s history?”

“Grace is the expert.  What does she say?”

There was a long silence. 

“Madison, is Grace there?”

“Not exactly.”

A longer silence.

“Madison, where’s Grace and Onyx?”

“They went into the concert hall.  Grace said she caught a whiff of demon.  She’s checking it out.”

It was time to ask a very important question.  “Stock from extra-dimensional demons that migrated here a long time ago, or the fallen angel type?”

“Number two, I think.  But don’t hold me to that.”

“I’m on my way, meanwhile, go after her and try to keep her alive.”

“But Onyx is with her.  How dangerous could things get?”

“I’ll tell Cassie you said that at Grace’s closed-casket funeral.”

“Oh, crap!”

I hung up to better concentrate on driving.
  Fuck me blind! This could get very bad. 
I slammed down on the accelerator pedal wove around traffic.  I cut across the occasional sidewalk when people were too slow getting out of my way.  All I could think of was that if Grace died, I’d need to take out Cassie before she got the news.  I’d need that little advantage against a kitsune warrior that could well have a thousand years of experience on me.  I’d never seen the dark side of Grace’s mother, but I’d heard a few chilling stories.