Demon Lord 4: White Jade Reaper (24 page)

Win-win-win
.

Lysande handed the demon a new business card she’d had made for the jewelry shop.  The card listed her as owner, and gave an address and phone number. 

The demon took the card.  And turned to me.  “Will you formally accept our pledge of allegiance at this time, Lord Deathwalker?”

Finally, someone got my name right. 
I inclined my head, reining in my combat instincts as I sensed a cloaked presence, someone hiding behind vampire magic.   “We have company,” I warned everyone. 

Lysande’s breath caught a second.

Echsel may have stiffened a little more.  I wasn’t entirely sure.  His people moved slightly closer to back him up.

The air rippled with a twisting shadow.  Two of them.  The shadows became Vlad and Raspy.  They formally bowed at the rest of us.  “Allow us to serve as witnesses to this moment?” Vlad said.

“Sure.”  I smiled, wondering how long it would take Security to realize that their air-tight protection for this event had just been violated rather easily. 

I returned my attention to the demons, aware that quite a few people in our area had stumbled to the fact that momentous events were taking place.  An unnatural hush swept across the back of the room.  The growing crowds were facing our way.   I nodded to Echsel.

He and his people knelt to me, fists covering their hearts, or whatever organs might be in their chests.  They lowered their heads in submission.  Echsel said, “The lives I hold, and all that is mine, I cede to one stronger, swearing loyalty through death and rebirth to Caine Deathwalker, the Red Moon Demon, heir of the L.A. demon territory, A Lord of Fairy, and scion of the Golden Dragon Clan.”

Wow, this guy did his research.  I didn’t expect him to know all my titles
.

“Before the world which will one day lie cringing at my feet, I accept your oath, pledging faithfulness in return.”

I felt the weight of Vlad and Raspy’s attention.  Apparently, they’d just learned a few things about me they hadn’t known.

“Once we get my coffin back,” Vlad said, “we should talk.”

Rasputin clapped me on the back.  “Well done.  Let’s get drunk later.”

Damn good idea.
  “Always up for that.  Uh-oh.”

A detachment of grim-faced Security men were coming toward us.

TWENTY-FOUR

“Every party needs a Molotov cocktail or two.”

                                   —Caine Deathwalker

I activated my
Dragon Sight
tattoo.  It felt like I’d been gutted by a broadsword, or maybe the fabled shish-kabob skewer of the gods.  The sensation ghosted away.  The magic I’d activated was passive.  I knew better than to warm up an offensive spell.  I could now see the glowing blue lines of a mirror spell on the tiled floor.  Anyone trying to cast a bad spell would find it flung back against them.

I stepped into the path of the front two goons.  Their massive size, dark suits, sunglasses, and Bluetooths labeled them as Security.  The glasses had a glow I’d not seen until my spell took hold.  I assumed the glasses let them see enchanted items, and to look at vampires without having minds rolled. 

Let’s see if they can be reasonable.

“Nothing here requires your attention,” I said.

The guy on the left looked at the kneeling demons.  “I’m not too sure about that.”

“My bad.”  I called over to the cactus demons.  “You guys can get up and have a drink if you want to.”  They shambled up and went to do just that.  I returned my attention to the security guys, and said, “They just felt a sudden need to swear eternal fealty to me.”  I laughed, spreading my hands in a what-can-you-do gesture.

One of the security men in the back was talking to someone through his headset.  The front goon on the right had kept his eyes on Vlad and Raspy this whole time.  He said, “I don’t believe these two gentlemen are on the guest list.”

“It’s okay,” I said.  “I’ve explained to them that the omission wasn’t intentional and that they should allow the management to live.”  For some strange reason, the group tensed and looked anything but reassured.  “Allow me to introduce my friends.”  I swiveled and gestured.  “This is Vlad Dracula, the Impaler, Prince of Darkness.  Next to him is
the
Grigori Rasputin, the Doom of Russia and unofficial Master of the City of Santa Fe.” 

The guy on the right swung his glare to me.  “And who did you say you were?”

Lysande rushed to smooth things out, smiling charmingly, leaning forward so the lovely distractions of her boobs were easily seen by all.  “This is Cain Deathwalker, a Lord of Fairy, prince of dragons, and the Red Moon Demon.”  She looked at me.  “Did I leave anything out?”

“Just the part about me being great in bed,” I said. “Modesty nearly prevented me from mentioning it.”

She clutched my arm tighter.  “A legend!” 

The goon on the right said, “You’re the Red Moon Demon?  I thought you’d be taller.”

“You didn’t just go there,” I said. 

One of the security guys in back said, “Let’s take this elsewhere.  The auction’s about to start.”

“Not if I say different,” Raspy said.  “You have been disrespectful to my friends as well as me.  If I give the command, no one will dare bid.”

Suddenly, the geeky dude from the podium was pushing through the security men.  He reached the front like Moses parting the Red Sea.  He’d donned magical glasses and also had a Bluetooth on, so I figured he was up on the situation.  I was sure of it when he bowed very low to the vampire lords.  “Please excuse the hired help.  I apologize on behalf of the management.  We would be delighted to have you stay and be a part of tonight’s event.  All purchases are final, and must be made with cash on hand, or funds that are electronically transferable.”

“Not so fast,” I said.  “I have it on good authority that a stolen object owned by Dracula here is being displayed tonight, a certain coffin.  I don’t blame you for this.  Someone sold it to you with a fake history, no doubt.  Someone impersonating Rasputin’s ward.”

Raspy looked surprised.  “This is news to me.”

I looked at Dracula.  “I’ve been earning my money.  It may be that someone is trying to sow dissention among the vampires to weaken them with in-fighting.”

The auction moderator studied me carefully.  I wondered if his glasses allowed him to see the minor spell I was employing.  He said, “Do you have proof that the coffin is stolen, a police report perhaps?”

I frowned at him.  “You know vamps don’t go to the police to resolve their issues.”

The moderator shrugged.  “I am willing to pull the item from this event and to hold it until proof of ownership is supplied.  We paid good money, in good faith, for the item.  If nothing else, I believe we should be reimbursed for our loss of capitol—consider it a finder’s fee.”

Dracula smiled, flashing plenty of fang.  “You will have proof of ownership as soon as the coffin is presented to the audience.  Please feel free to continue the program as is.”

“That sounds interesting,” Raspy said. 

Perhaps too interesting.
“Well,” I said, “shall we go find some seats?”

The security men returned to their posts.  The moderator headed back toward the podium.  Lysande and I followed, the vamps right behind us.  We chose some aisle seats several rows back from the front.  Raspy went in, then Lysande.  I sat next to her.  Vlad took the outside chair.  I wondered if he were just waiting for the coffin to be brought out so he could run up and snatch it using vampire super strength.  I saw floor security eyeing us as if they were wondering the same thing.

I don’t think the moderator was up to the strain.  He wiped his face with a handkerchief, stooping over his book as he opened it.  He tapped the mic on the podium:
thw-thwump
.  “Good evening ladies, gentlemen, and others.  There will be a small change in the program tonight.  Item number 202 will be leading off the auction.  Opening bid is one million dollars.”

  What?  That’s way outta line.  Last celebrity coffin on the circuit didn’t even sell for a million.  What is it about Dracula that makes people so crazy?

“I will not read the provenance for this item in that its authenticity has been called into question.”  He offered us a nervous smile.  “Like the carnival barker said, ‘You pays your money, you takes your chances.’”

The coffin was rolled in on a gurney, surrounded by an armed escort: two more of the men in black with sunglasses, and two women dressed in the same outfit.  The women wore no ties, opening their shirts low enough to give a hint of cleavage.  One of them was black with hair shaved close to her head.  The other woman had a stiffened crest of blue-dyed hair and a pierced nose.  The guards stopped the gurney where everyone could see it.

There was a murmur of excited voices as the lid was lifted and the silk lining revealed.  The voices swelled as the mini-bar and TV were mentioned.  Dracula stood, radiating regal power, like a dark cloud playing slight-of-hand with lightning.  A chilling wind whirled in from nowhere.  Vlad’s voice rolled out like thunder.  “Yes, that is my stolen property.  I will give you your opening bid for its safe return—and no one needs to die.”

The last statement was a threat for anyone bidding against him.  He thought no one would dare.  I knew someone would.  In any large crowd you can always depend on one person acting incredibly stupid.  It’s like a natural law, or something.  Especially where booze is flowing freely.

“I bid one point one,” a woman called out.  Her voice was young with a bit of a Russian accent.  A sense of inevitable doom flowed over me.  I didn’t have to even look to know that it was Dominika, and that she’d be accompanied by Grace, Madison, and Onyx.  The sound of Raspy quietly cursing in Russian confirmed my guess.

The moderator accepted the bid and asked if there were another.  “One point one going at one point one…”

Vlad shot me a furious glare.  His message was crystal clear; I was to handle this. 

“One point five,” I called, standing, turning to look at the

newcomers. 
Yeah, the whole gang’s here all right.  How the hell did they get in past all the heavy security?  Ah, there in Dom’s hand, an invitation.  She’s here to piss Drac off and commit suicide by a stronger vampire.  She’s had to wait quite a while for someone to come along who wouldn’t be intimidated by Rasputin.

There was an earthquake like tremor that shook the building.  The pattern on the tiles that neutralized dangerous magic cracked under enormous pressure.  There was a flicker of light and shadow past Lysande as space bent in a tesseract that picked Rasputin up and deposited him by Dom.  Raspy showed agitation as he pleaded, cajoled, and threatened her to “Pretty-please shut the hell up!”

Defying him, she lifted a slim hand, raised a finger, and announced.  “One point six.”

“One point six and accepted,” the moderator said.  “Do I hear one point seven?”

Caught up in the excitement, Lysande screamed, “Two!”

I glared at her.

She cringed a little and mouthed the word, “Sorry.”

Dracula pointed at the casket without turning all the way around to face it.  “That contains the soil of my first grave, good Romanian earth, suffused over the centuries with my somnolent life force, with the essence of my immortal being.  The coffin is a part of me.  I will yield it to no other.”  As if to prove the truth of his words, and his ownership, the coffin shuddered on the gurney, tipping it over.  Without support, the coffin hovered in the air, a bloody haze of light sheathing it.

The moderator—his voice softening with fear—squeaked out, “Do I hear two point one!”

“Two point two,” I announced.

Onyx watched all the drama with the air of a man who could really use some popcorn.  Madison and Grace were whispering urgently to each other and to Dominika.  Dom held up hands to silence their objections.  Raspy loomed over her, his eyes red flame.  A severe tick dancing the muscles of his cheek. 

Somehow, she ignored even him, calling out, “two point

three!”

And so Armageddon begins
, I thought.  I didn’t know how deep Dom’s pockets were, or Vlad’s either.  What I did know was that there was no longer going to be a peaceful resolution.  I turned to the moderator and pointed a fist at him.  Instead of summoning my demon sword, I pulled out my shadow magic, a demon skill I’d learned from the Old Man.  A black shadow eased out of my hand and formed a black sword.  It wasn’t living darkness like Onyx, or the flame wreathed shadow of Grace’s sword.  My blade was the force of my will wrapped in shadows, a night wind that could in heartbeat become stronger than meteoric iron.  I held it straight out, effortlessly, a threat and a promise. 

“If you accept that bid, you die.”

That pushed security personal over the edge.  Most of them dug into their suits for hardware that they pointed my way.  I really hoped Onyx remembered our discussion about favors from the pool hall.  I screamed, “Onyx, do it fucking now!” 

Blackness fell.  Crushing darkness with no hope of light.  As far as I knew, it filled the hall, maybe the block, maybe the whole world.  There was a cold mist feel to it.  My inner dragon went very still, sensing currents in the darkness, a floating kind of attention such as might belong to a sleepy predator just awakened.  My dragon self didn’t want to admit to a need for wariness, but was not trusting enough to turn his back.  I felt like a cat waiting for another cat to jump and create a rolling tumble of furry bodies.

A deep voice vibrated the air near me.  “Favor paid.”

Lysande was pressed into my side.  She’d inadvertently screamed when the living blackout hit.  So did a lot of people.  I heard rustling, milling around, but not a lot of widespread motion.  Everyone was taking a wait and see attitude, waiting for the magic users in the security staff to sort this out.  I knew they couldn’t.  I knew it was only a matter of minutes before security got the moderator, and the damn coffin, outta here. 

Time to act
.  I released the shadow sword.  Its purpose had been achieved in being seen as an unconventional threat, one which would probably be forever associated with this convenient black out.  I’d get credit for Onyx’s work, which would enhance my reputation, and bring in more business.

Speaking of business…
  I reached out and tugged on Vlad’s arm.  “Fly that levitating coffin outta here and go with it.  I’ll attend to matters here.”

“Delighted,” he said.  “I need to catch up to the Russian woman who wants so very much to die.  It seems you have smoked out the villain behind all this.  Good job.”

“Uh, about that…”

“Yes, I know, it earns you a sizable bonus.”

In the back of my head, the
cha-ching
of sound of a cash register went off big-time.  “Never mind.” 
Who am I to stand between a young vampire girl and her death wish?

The arm I was touching went incorporeal, dissolving to mist as Dracula ghosted away with his coffin.  I sat back down, pulling Lysande back into her chair. 

“What is going on?” she whispered.

“
Vlad is leaving with his coffin.  I’ll give him a few minutes, then have Onyx lift the black out.  After that, we’ll probably be asked to leave and never come back.”

“How can he see well enough to go anywhere?” Lysande asked.

“When he goes all mist, he’s no longer limited to mere human perception.  He ought to be able to manage.”