Demon Lord 5: Silver Crown King (3 page)

Sarah nodded and left, murmuring to wolves out in the hall.  I knew they’d heard me.  Wolf hearing is good.  What I really needed her to do was to let them see Angie, and to know who was here.  Sarah told them in one word: “Caine.”

There were a few muttered curses, mostly, “Are you fucking serious?” and “What the fucking hell!”

“All of you, get out my way.  Sarah, go find something to do for a while, preferably a few miles from here.”

“One wolf objected.  “But if William survives his, he’ll kill us all for not coming to his rescue.”

I looked at William, unable to even struggle since the silver had been strengthened by fey magic so he couldn’t break free.  The razor wire continued to sink into his body, grating on bone, slowly sawing through.  Soon, he’d be reduced to severed pieces.  That wasn’t enough to kill him.  William was no ordinary wolf.  He’d died the Night of the Red Moon, and been resurrected by necromancy with his soul fully intact, a kind of immortality bestowed on him.  He wasn’t simply as a zombie wolf.  The pieces here were going to eventually pull themselves back together and resuscitate. 

I had two ways of dealing with this.  One, summon my demon sword to drink his soul, or two, de-bone him and send the pieces through hell-gates to a dozen demon realms.  In the second case, he’d be able to keep enough of himself together to be a were-worm, caught in a living hell.   While that was satisfying, I couldn’t risk he’d find a way to become functional again.  Angie’s future well-being was at stake.  That pretty much made my decision for me.

The wolves were still milling around, wringing their hands in the hall. 

I said, “William’s on his way to hell.  No one will have to worry about him ever again.  If you want to go along with him, I can arrange it.”

I lifted my hand and concentrated.  The black demon sword wreathed with flame came to me. 

Its psychic hunger tore at me.  I showed no weakness.  The damned thing would eat any soul I gave it, and try for my own if I wasn’t careful.  Demon weapons can never be trusted.

The smell of blood was incredibly heavy in the room, spreading out into halls.  Soon, the whole house would reek of blood, excrement, and piss.  As if on cue, William voided his bowls.  His agonized breathing died as the silver coils slit his throat and ripped into vertebrae joints.  Decapitation was a moment away.

The next sound I heard was the patter of many feet hauling ass for parts unknown.             

THREE

“Wounds too deep to bleed need

  whiskey.  That’s what it’s there for.”

                                    —Caine Deathwalker

The sword slurped up William’s soul, a red-eyed haze that rose from the body.  With the spiritual essence absorbed into the black metal sword, the werewolf couldn’t be resurrected or reborn.  The sword’s satisfaction with the dark spirit made the blade thrum.  Some of the energy flowed from the sword hilt into my hand, augmenting my lifeforce.  A side effect of using a demon blade was that you had to share some of its meals.

With a thought, I returned the blade to my armory.  The silver razor wire finished contracting, becoming a simple silver egg once more.  It gleamed, no trace of damage or blood, lying somnolently until the time the release word was came.  I picked up the egg, sending it back to my armory as well.   

William’s body lay in freshly severed pieces.  I used my phone to take a couple pictures and sent them to the Old Man and Fenris with the text message: JOB DONE.  My adopted demon father would see that the L.A. counsel learned of our demon clan justice.  Meanwhile, the Fenris would circulate the pictures among his wolves as a warning: wimpy wolves who embarrass the wolf clans will die for their cowardess.

I went back to my house, seeing no sign of wolves.  Inside, Angie and Sarah were on my living room couch.  Both women had haunted expressions.  Sarah stared at me.  “Is he…?”

“Dead,” I said.  “Very, dead.  He won’t be coming back either.  You’ll need to dispose of the pieces, the bloody sheets, the blood-soaked bed, and you should fumigate the room.”

Hugging her knees on the couch, Angie looked at me then.  “Why didn’t you call for a cleaning crew?”

The witches in the L.A. area ran a magic janitorial service to help hide the existence of preternaturals.  They did a good job, even whipping memories when necessary, and they were expensive.

My return stare was hard, full of cold anger.  “You knew what William did was wrong at the time.  You should have challenged him for the pack, not rolled over for a good fucking.  When you backed down, you gutted your whole pack, so
you
can pay for the cleanup.”

Sarah shoved off the couch, putting herself between me and Angie, like I was going to pick up where William stopped.  Sarah said, “Don’t you dare blame the victim.”

“She made herself a victim.  I’ve been calling for weeks and what has she been saying?  ‘Everything’s fine, don’t worry.’  Well, everything wasn’t fine, but they are now.”  I took a step to the side so I could see and speak to Angie.  “Get your ass off my couch, and go take a shower.  You’ve got William’s stink on you.  When you’re done, come into the office.  I’ll give you some top-shelf whisky you can cry in.”

Yeah, I can be a mean son of a dragon, but I need to know if you’re broken and need a memory wipe, or can fight past this and turn the pain into strength.

Angie jumped off the couch and ran toward my master bedroom and its private shower.  There were tears in her eyes. 

Sarah slapped me.

I grinned at her.  “See, that’s the fighting spirit that will heal her the fastest.  You want to really help her?  Rustle up some food, a lot of it.  Her inner wolf has been healing her steadily.  Healing takes energy, energy comes from food.  She’s more than half-starved and needs to be fed before her wolf takes over and runs amok.”

Sarah backed away and turned toward the kitchen.  She called me a “Shrimpy bastard” under her breath, pissed because she knew I was right.

I yelled at her.  “Damn it, I’m not short, you didn’t add in the length of my cock.”

My phone went off, playing Taylor Swift’s,
Shake It Off
.   Shaking off my annoyance, I answered.  “Caine here.”

The speaker rudely started talking, as if expecting I’d know his voice.  “Caine, I just saw the new photos of William.  I’m impressed.  You’re almost as ruthless as I am.”

Actually, I did know his voice.  It was Gloria’s son, Adrian, the self-proclaimed head of the L.A. vampires.  Gloria scared me.  Adrian, not at all.  “Yeah, well, I was thinking of you the whole time, thinking of how you’d cry like the bitch you are.”

“Hah, in your dreams.” 

“What do you want?”

“I got your invitation.  What the hell are you pulling?  You’re being crowned as a fey lord?  I thought you were human and dragon, not part fey.”

“It’s a free country.  I can be whatever I want, and twice on Sunday—that’s when I usually fuck your mom.”

He shrieked incoherently at me for a minute or two.  I didn’t really listen, going into my office to make a few drinks.  I was behind the bar, ingredients spread out before me, when he finally ran down.  I wasn’t really sleeping with his mom, but he’d never believed that.  Neither Gloria nor I wanted sex more than our special friendship which might have suffered if taken to the bedroom.  Some allies are too valuable to risk.

“Anyway,” Adrian said, “there’s no way in hell I’m going to Fairy just to watch some man-whore preen.”

“Your mom’s going,” I said.  “She’s catering the event.”

“Okay, I’ll be there.”  He hung up.

I put my phone away and got busy mixing drinks.

Most of my demon clan was scheduled to blow town soon for my coronation in Fairy where I held a kingdom even though I wasn’t fey.  Some thought I’d stolen the land and forced a bond to it.  The truth was, the land had cried out to me, and I’d simply taken what was offered.  With repairs concluded, the trip would be a little reward for the demons who’d defended the Clan House from the evil minions of the Blue Star Priestess.  The lesson I was giving was clear: Fight hard, work hard, and party harder! 
Hoorah!

The coronation served double duty however, acting as bait for my fey enemies.  I was tired of Autumn Court and Storm Court assassins jumping me here in the human world when the whim would take them.  I was going to set myself up as a target and kill my enemies when they showed themselves.  And they would.  I’d do everything I could, but send engraved invitations and limos.  And if Adrian happened to die in all the confusion, well Gloria couldn’t blame me.

I had three drinks ready and the bottle handy by the time girls got back.  Their hair was wet, combed, and drying.  They’ changed clothes, dressing up as if in defiance.  That made sense; a woman’s clothing is her armor.  Sarah took a seat at the bar and Angie sat next to her.  Both glared at me as they picked up their drinks.  I grabbed mine.  They slammed their drinks back.  I took my time.  Sweet, smoky liquid fire caressed my throat. 

I put my glass down.  Sarah slid hers away, knowing her limit.  Angie shoved her glass at me, holding it above the bar.  “Hit me, again.”

I poured.  She slammed that one back, too.

“You’re supposed to drink slow enough to enjoy the flavor,” I said.

“Fuck you,” Angie said. 

I knew by the snarl that she wasn’t really offering, so I didn’t get my hopes up.  Instead, I poured us both another shot.  I wasn’t worried about Angie getting bombed outta her skull.  Werewolves—even in human form—have an incredible tolerance for liquor.  Nearly as good as mine.

Angie finished her third drink and held onto the empty glass while pointing at me.  “You know what I hate about you.”

“Probably a long list.  What specifically?”

“That you’re not only right, but a fucking insufferable bastard about it.”

I smiled.  “You’re welcome.” 

Sarah looked at Angie.  “You’re crazy.”

Angie shook her head.  “Nah, don’t let him fool you.  He knew I’d break apart if he was nice to me, so he acted normal instead.  And he’s right.  I knew that something inside had gone sour.  His spirit had seemed to be fine after his resurrection, but over time, a shadow crept in.  He started losing himself a little at a time.  Then the blue star bitch attacked the city, and William made a decision he knew was wrong.  I think he knew he was destroying himself.  Maybe he wanted someone to put him down and return him to the grave before his real self was totally swallowed.” 

Sarah looked at me.  “It was suicide by asshole.”

“Next comment you make,” I told her, “I’m rolling you into a ball and sticking your head up your ass so you can see what dark really looks like.  Or better yet, I can just bitch slap you with my cock.”

Sarah’s eyes smoldered.  “I’ll tell Gloria on you.”

I laughed.  “Gloria would just be miffed about missing the action.  She might insist on an instant replay.” 

I refilled Angie’s glass.  This one she drank slowly. 

She said, “I should have stepped up and defended the pack, challenging for the lead spot.  I might not have won, but I’d sure feel a lot better about myself.”

“Look,” I said, “If it’s punishment you want, it’s punishment you already got.  Why not shake it off and be the alpha now that your pack needs.”

Angie shook her head.  “I can’t do that.  With William gone, it’s the Fenris’ call.  If I just take over, he might think I’m acting presumptuous.  It’s asking for a slap down.”

Angie had apparently not left next door without her precious phone; I heard an Abba ringtone: “Money, money, money…”

I stared at her.  “For a high priced attorney, that’s strangely appropriate.”

“Shush.”  She waved me into silence.  “Hello, this is Angie—”

I heard a deep, growly voice over the phone, interrupting her.

“Yes, sir,” she said.  “No, I understand.  The pack, honestly, it needs a lot of work.  I—”

Growly voice, interrupting again.  No nonsense phone call apparently.

“Yes, sir.  I’ll tell him.”  The call ended.  She put her phone away.

“Tell me what?” I asked.
Damn, cheap-assed, were-wolf phones; can’t overhear shit, even this close

Sarah said, “What makes you think the call was about you?”

I just stared at Angie.  “That was the Fenris, right?”

She nodded.  “He’s appointed me alpha.  It’s a probationary position.  If I prove myself, I get to keep it, if not,” she shrugged, “I’ll be sent to Chicago or Detroit, some place that heavily benefits from excessively liberal policies.”

“That’s cruel and merciless,” I said.  “Any of a thousand hell-dimensions would be better.”

She squared her shoulders, slipped on a mask of confidence, and slid off the barstool.  “I have to go.  There’s a lot of work to do.  I gotta round up my wolves, and I think we need a new place to live.”

“So that means you’re not going to be available for my coronation and kegger?” I asked.

Angie headed for the door.  “Sorry, no.  Later.”  She crossed to the door and went out.

“I’m free,” Sarah said.

I looked at her.  “I can use some hired help to get things ready and help serve the guests.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “I don’t come cheap.”

“Dinner and a movie first?” I asked.

She looked confused.

I smiled.  “Never mind.  I’ll be talking to Gloria about catering the affair.  I’m sure she’ll be roping you in.”

“One thing I want to ask you, Caine.”

“Yeah?”

“That egg I threw, it killed William.”

“Eventually.”

“And you gave it to me, knowing I was mad enough to use it because of Angie.  You let me kill my own grandfather.”

“Uh, huh.”  I waited to see if there was going to be an epic emotional explosion.

“Thanks.  It was my mess since I resurrected him.  I’m glad you let me clean it up.”

A rational woman.  How unexpected
.  “You owe me one,” I said.

“Yeah, I do.  But I’m not joining that harem of yours.”  

“I’m crushed.”  I moved out from behind the bar, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Sarah asked.

“Like Angie said, ‘there’s a lot of work to do.’”

“Can I get a ride into L.A.?  I don’t think I’ll be staying with the wolves any more.  That would just be awkward.  And painful.  And maybe not free anymore.” 

I paused in the door way, looking back at her as she slid off her stool.  “Why don’t you stay here?  No one else is.  More and more of my time is being spent at the clan house.  You need a place to stay, and I get a house-sitter who can keep an eye on the place.  I have protective wards on the property, but I’d feel better if someone were here that could call me if something weird develops.”

“If I put myself out like that for you, I wouldn’t owe you a favor, right?”

“You’d be eating my food and drinking my booze, so you’d still owe me,” I said.

“Well, okay.  I’ll do it.”

“Good.  I’ll get you a spare key.  Just don’t bring any strangers here.  Set off the wards, and it could get quite messy.”  As with all my trusted friends, the wards already were tuned to accept Sarah’s presence.  She came over and followed me into the living room.  I went to the front door.  There was a small table there for mail and other odds and ends.  A lamp made out of a conch shell was there.  The Old Man had bought it in Mexico.  And had refused to let me use it for target practice.  I tilted the lamp and pulled out a set of keys I knew the Old man kept there.  I handed the keys to Sarah.