Red Moon Demon (Demon Lord) (28 page)

The crowd
,
sprinkled with broken glass
,
screamed and roared in confusion. A general stampede from my location began, which made it easy to spot the four slayers running flat out for me, against the press of the crowd.

I pulled Vivian up and over my shoulder, her head hanging in front of me, not behind
as was usually done
. I had a PPK with laser sight in my hand, the muzzle against Vivian’s head.

The slayers broke free of the retreating crowd, but stopped dead. They knew if they got their leader’s granddaughter
killed
, they’d soon be dead as well, or worse. One of the slayers whipped out a Glock 23, the official service pistol of many FBI agents and other law enforcement agencies.
He
barked a command, “Put her down, now!”

Yeah, I’m going to make myself a target so you can blow me away. I don’t think so.

“I’m leaving,” I said. “Try anything and she dies.”

“Wait,” another slayer holstered his colt
.
45 and pushed down the Glock that was aimed at my head. “Take me instead. I’m on my feet. She’s not. Make it easier on yourself.”

“I’m heading for the door,” I said.
“
If I take any heat, she takes a bullet to the skull. Understand?”

Another slayers said, “We understand. There will be no trouble. Just leave her outside on the curb, and we won’t follow.”

Like I believe that
.

I smiled. “Sure, I’ll do that,” I lied.

The slayers in the room provided crowd control, holding the civilian
s
back so I had a
n
open corridor to the front door. I faced the room, moving sideways for the door, my back to the bar and the bartenders. I figured one of them would try something, but I counted on my protective shield to handle it. I was halfway to the door
when
something shattered against my shield, from the sound, a bottle. I spun
and
tapped the trigger for a single
round. My slug hit
the
bar-bitch
e
s’ shoulder
. I
spun
back around
to see all the slayers in the
room
pointing their
weapons my way
. However, h
aving seen my protective shield in action, they didn’t waste their ammo.

Thing
s
were going too good to last. I sensed disaster
breathing down my neck
.
Hiro’s men
bu
r
st into the bar
, blocking my escape route
.
They
bristl
ed
with guns, every last one of them in black suit and tie, with sunglasses in place.
It looked like a
men-in-black
convention.
They ducked for cover
,
as the slayers opened up on them, screaming, “It’s the Yakuza!”

TWENTY-EIGHT

“The purpose of a human shield is to

keep one’s armor from getting dirty.

This doesn’t always work.”

—
Caine Deathwalker

The band played
a metal cover of
Barroom Blitz
as the crowd screamed and ran for the back exits. The Slayers held their fire through the exodus, turning over tables to use as shields. I started to move with the human herd,
t
aking advantage of their cover, but
several of Hiro’s men raced up and surrounded me in an
attempt to provide protection.

I shoved out from between two of my protectors, carefully balancing Vivian on my shoulder. As I ran, more of Hiro’s men followed, firing wildly to keep slayers ducking so they couldn’t shoot back. I felt my shield flicker, as if undecided about turning on, and was driven to my knees as someone landed on me. I rolled. Vivian slid off my shoulder and sprawled, groaning, her eyelids fluttering. Next to her was a scantily-clad young
blonde with way too much makeup
, one of the acrobat-dancers from off
a
dangling silk ribbon.
She’d picked a hell of a time to lose her grip, probably panicked by the gunfire.

I understood why my shield hadn’t activated; nearly naked woman throwing themselves at me was a common fantasy, not what I’d consider a danger.

I pushed to my feet and reached for Vivian once more.
As I touched her
,
bringing her inside my shield’s usual activation range,
she lunged
up
, wrapping around my leg like a dog in heat.

“Come on,” I said, “we really don’t have time for this.”

She sank her fangs into my thigh and held on for dear life.
The suit I wore would have stopped a slug, but her vampire fangs pierced the material
, sliding between the tungsten fibers
.

I cursed,
“Son of a … bat!”

One of my protectors fell with a slug in his shoulder. Most of the others were reloading, crouching so I was totally exposed.
Damn! Don’t they know how to do anything right? Where did Hiro get these people?
Idiots ß Us?
I pulled a couple
flash bang grenades off my belt and slung them across the floor toward the slayers. I threw out a couple impact smoke bombs for extra measure.

The slayers were now out from behind their tables, in full charge against us. Ignoring the bitch gnawing my leg, I warmed a dragon blood tat
—and felt every nerve scream as if someone was skinning me with a potato peeler—
but
my voice transformed to thunder. “Everyone stop!”

The band froze. The slayers seized up mid-stride. My own guys became statues. The rest of the women on the silk ribbons fell
thudding
to the floor. The last of the fleeing crowd lost impetus, becoming even more mindless. The only
one
that didn’t stop was Vivian. She had enough vamp in her to be immune to my power of suggestion, having that same power herself.

I didn’t want to pistol whip her, her head was already damaged, bleeding heavily. Another head blow might kill her, and she was too hot to die unless really, really necessary. The smell of her own blood had probably been what had brought her around, triggering this feeding hunger. When
fully
back in her senses,
this would
probably
embarrass her.
She was supposed to be one of the good guys.

I pulled the mirror off my chest, turned it in my hand and said, “Old Man, we need a demon gate, now!”

Hiro
’s men
and the slayers were now mixed in a violent dance. The danger of each side hitting their own guys
was too great
, so street fighting replaced gunplay.
Now I saw what Hiro’s men were good at.
Hand to hand
. The
slayers went down en mass.

The way to the front door was suddenly clear.

I looked into my mirror again and said, “Never mind.”

I dropped my full weight onto the knee Vivian clung t
o
. This
drove
her
back to the floor, my knee sinking into her abdomen.
Even with t
he muzzle of my PPK to her head, she still didn’t let go, though more sense seemed to be returning, wiping the haze of hunger from her face. I pulled the gun away and taunted her. “Like father, like daughter. He’d be so proud to see you now.”

She
released my leg, shoving me off her with vampire strength.

I hit the floor, skidded toward the door, and rolled to my feet
while slapping the little mirror back on my chest again.

I called out to Hiro’s men. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Bristling with guns once more, they covered my retreat. We ran through the smoke from the bombs I’d released, and were out the door as sirens
shriek
ed closer. We were keeping the cops busy tonight. They’d probably had to call in all off duty cops to deal with all the hot spots I was leaving.

Hiro’s
guys had
two
black van
s
waiting at the curb.
As they loaded up, t
wo of the
Japanese
paused to high-five each other.

I groaned in the depths of my soul
.
T
hey slammed doors and
drove off
.

I
headed for
my own vehicle.
I was rounding the hood when Albino John popped up from hiding, that rune etched shotgun still gripped in his grubby little hands. He smiled with delight, pointing the muzzle at my face. Cold fear settled in my guts as I realized that my shield was still dormant. The runes on his weapon were making my tat blind to his threat.

“Gottcha, now!” he said. “Twitch, and you die.”

I saw the blood
lust in his eyes.
He was going to shoot anyway
, but he’d take a moment to gloat first. All bad guys were the same.

I warmed my
Dragon Flame
tat,
preparing to use it.

Albino John said, “Who’s the
little
punk ass bitch now, huh? Who’s the damned—?”

Old Man’s hand
emerged from the mirror on my chest along with several inches of wrist.

Albino John stared in shock.

I stared in shock.
Then I realized that the white jade frame had expanded magically to allow Old Man’s oversized hand through.
The hand flexed its fingers. A ball of violet-white lightning filled the
palm, reeling of
f
a
n
electric
storm of jags that made a blackened,
crispy critter
out of Not–So-Albino John
. He di
ed on his feet, blasted backwards out of his shoes. The shot gun went flying high into the air.

I caught it with one hand.
Hmmm, something new for my collection.

Old Man’s hand withdrew back into the mirror.

I got into my mustang and
drove off. I was several blocks away
—heading for Gloria’s place—
when my phone play
ed
Tears of the Dragon
. I knew that was Old Man, asking me what the hell I was doing. For once, I had a very good answer

I flipped my
phone
open and said, “Yeah?”

“What the hell are you doing? We need the female slayer to find the warlock, and you drive off and leave her behind?”

I smiled. “Old Man, shut the fuck up.” Startled, he fell silent. I went on. “Things are going according to plan.”

There was a long silence. His voice returned, vibrating with curiosity. “Okay, what did I miss?”

“We don’t need to
have
the dhampyr, just to
follow
her. She’s going after Salem.”

“You’re not at the club anymore. How are you going to follow her?”

“That’s where Gloria comes in.”

* * *

I stopped my
mustang
behind Gloria’s bar
, and
got out
. Hiro’s men
parked
t
he
black
van
s
behind me
.
Old Man had to have sent them
after me
. I probably ought
t
o
ditch this stupid mirror
—Hiro’s men too. There’s just so much help
fulness
I can take.

I walked to the
driver’s door of the van
.

He
rolled down his window.

I said,
“Wait here
.
I need to speak to someone inside to find
out
where we go next
.
”

Sharply, t
he drive nodded his head
once.
“
Hai
,
Deathwalker-san
.
”

The bar was closed
,
but Gloria’s home
lay on
the upper floor
,
and she
’
d still be awake. Vampires don’t crash until dawn.
I didn’t have to knock hard
;
with her vampire hearing
,
she
’d
know someone was here
. She might even recognize my heartbeat—through the door.
I called
out, “Gloria, Adrian sends his love.”

I waited
a few
seconds and heard the locks
rattling open. She
cracked the door and looked
out
.
“Caine, you’re here late
. E
verything
’s
okay?
Is Adrian…?”

“Fine,” I said, “though he could use an enema.”

Though concerned,
her perfect smile
was in place
, as
always.
Creepy.
Against the darkness of her hair, the pink streaks were nearly three-dimensional.
She wore a diaphanous nightgown, a pale peach color that floated around her like a wet dream waiting to happen. My gaze naturally dropped to her thinly-veiled breasts. I said,
“I need your help with something
.
Can I come in?”

Gloria opened the door and ste
p
ped to the side to let me
pass. She
closed the door
,
relocking it.
Without a word, she
led
me up
the stairs to her
apartment. Her
silk nightgown
hugged
her
curves
, draping her legs, whispering sexily
as she moved
.
Her assets right in my face,
I was reminded
of
just how beautiful
she
was
.

Without looking back, she said, “Your pulse is a little fast. See something you like?”

“You could say that.”

T
he magic locks on her
upstairs door
w
ere strong. Not
even I could break the
blood magic. She opened the way and stood aside so I could enter first. T
he
living room
was like a tribute
to
Victorian
sensibilities, but didn’t lack
modern
conveniences. T
he hard wood floors
were cork wood
. T
he walls had
riotous
flowers painted
on them, species from all over the world. T
he white
antique
couch
lacked one arm and had only half a back that started high and sloped into extinction. An
iPod
lay
on the cushions,
music
leaking from earphones. There were chairs that might have come from a European court. And a treadmill for running that faced a small TV on a stand. A crystal chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling.
P
ink
blackout
curtains on her windows
were
heavy
enough to
block the sun during the day
.