Demon Lord 5: Silver Crown King (28 page)

My dragon-side said,
Magic.  Gotta love it
.

“I do.”  Gliding high, I watched Shadow Court cavalry riding in a thin mass down my white road along the river.  They didn’t seem to notice that the “logs” along the shore weren’t logs at all, having hungry eyes.  They were Gumbo’s relatives, and dinner was about to be served.

A rider crossed one of the spots where I’d poured my shadow magic.  A column of darkness shot up, as though shadow could beam like light.  That blackness divided into serpentine coils.  The rider and a dozen of those around him were pulled down into the shadow pool.  Others were driven off the road, seeking safety.  A few riders thundered into river.

I laughed my dragon ass off.  “Gator time!”

THIRTY

“There’s nothing like violent

murder to warm the heart.”

                                          —Caine Deathwalker

I beat golden wings, swinging toward the high rim of the falls.  Kinsey flew ahead, not waiting.  My dragon eyes scanned the valley, picking up details.  Chaos reigned.  There wasn’t any hope of a neat, not-quite-polite affair with two sides lined up opposite each other like in Brave Heart.  No opportunity to show our asses and scream taunts.  No rattling of shields and swords.  This was bloody melee in all its raging glory. 

More of my shadow traps flared darkly, devouring enemy fey.  Small battles littered the valley.  Pockets of white-out blizzard showed where Winter Court fey fought for my realm—for Izumi really.  Elsewhere, various types of were-critters stalked prey in the woods.  The flamingoes I’d seeded along the river were long gone, a distant cloud of panicked pink.  The lip of the falls was lined with our own magic-users, those with an affinity for air and water.  Under their influence, long lashes of wind and slashed into enemy soldiers, sawing through arms and legs, taking heads here and there.

Over by the treehouse, just outside the garden wall, I saw Gloria and Vivian armed with broadswords.  They were supported by the were-kitties and Vivian’s slayer grandfather who wielded a two-edged battle axe and a colt revolver. Vivian and Gloria appeared at random moments, slowing down from speeding blurs to reorient on fresh prey.  Every time they burst into motion, dozens of enemy fey dropped dead, usually in big chunks.  I actually saw Shadow Court fey backing off from the battle, going to find easier opponents.

Used to fighting only other fey, the enemy was taking heavy losses.  Of course, my demon shock troops—with their automatic weapons and grenades—roamed freely, having a hell of a good time.  I expected the enemy survivors to withdraw soon, and not in an organized manner.

It was time to become
me
again. 

My dragon-side said,
This IS the true me, you shaved ape.

Ignoring him, I descended to the edge of the pavilion, clawed feet catching the rock, my legs easily taking the shock of landing. I folded wings and went in under the high roof.  Kinsey was in the process of sloughing off extra mass, turning human once more.  The rest of our dragon-force had already shifted form and dressed.

I went over to where I’d left my clothes and began the transformation that was painful just to me.  It seemed like I was being consumed by acid, my wings and tail falling off as golden ash and embers.  My stomach spasmed.  Choking, gasping, I spewed acid-stewed horse sludge from my earlier meal.  Amid the steaming glop, I saw the crystal heart of my land.  It seemed to have cleaned up nicely in my stomach, but might have lost a little size.

As the change dragged out, my bones melted and reformed.  Muscles went soft as over-cooked pasta, then tightened, restringing along with my ligaments and tendons.  The pavilion swelled bigger as I dwindled.  At last, I lay there, human—sorta—naked, covered with my own blood.

Still aching, I fought to my feet, unwilling to wallow in weakness with my family pretending not to watch.

“Here.”  It was Angie, in a red top and black jeans, her feet in white sneakers.  She’d approached while I was distracted, and had a beach towel thrown over one should.  She carried a bucket of water.  As I stared at her, she swung the bucket, throwing the water into my face and chest.  “You’ll want to clean up before getting into clean clothes.”

Icy cold water from the falling river shocked my senses.  I could feel my body temperature falling as well.  “Sonuva frigid bitch!”

She headed off with her bucket.  “Be right back.  Gotta get your backside.”

“So very helpful of you,” I snarked.

While I waited for Angie to come back and sluice my ass, Kinsey came over, a grin pasted across her face.  She stared after Angie.  “I don’t know who that is, but I like her.”  Kinsey’s nostrils flared.  The space between her eyes creased.  “She smells like wolf.”

“She
is
a wolf, the temporary Alpha of the L.A. territory.

Kinsey lifted an eyebrow.  “Someone made her the boss of those chest-beating chauvinists?”

“Someone did.”

“Then it’s good you killed the last one.  Girl’s rule, guys drool.”

I looked at her.  “Are you ten-years old?  Next party I throw, I’ll sit you at the kid’s table.”

Her eyes flashed golden fire, but a smile stayed on her face.  Her gaze slid down my body, looking for something to insult.  Her eyes widened.  “Your penis didn’t go back to human scale!  I’ve never seen anything that big on a human.”

“You weren’t paying attention when I first undressed.  This is normal—for me.  Uh-oh.  Angie is back.”

Kinsey hurried to get some distance.

Angie turned me and splashed water down my back.  Blood-tinted water puddled under me, slowly seeping off to the edge of the pavilion.  Apparently, the floor wasn’t perfectly level.  Angie handed me the towel.  I made quick use of it, and handed the towel back.  My feet splashed, and then I was treading dry rock.  I picked up my clothes and dressed without haste. 

Not like I’ve got anything to be ashamed of
.

‘Course not
, my cock agreed.

“Okay,” I muttered, “I hear voices.  It just makes me special.”

Dressed, I turned to Angie.  “I’m surprised you’re up here.”

Her eyes went gold.  She smiled with a hint of fang.  “We’re all here.  My wolves are fighting in the woods, showing support for the Fenris and for you.  You gave us permission to live in the L.A. territory, breaking the long ban.  William turned his back on the debt we owe you.  I will not.”

I looked in her eyes for shadows of doubt and pain.  All I saw was strength.  I nodded.  “About time you bounced back.”

She growled low in her throat.  “Sorry my being raped with cock and knife inconvenienced you so much.  I’ll try not to let it happen again.” 

The area over the fire pit remained normal, but the rest of the pavilion dimmed.  Shadows gathered that defied explanation.  I yelled a warning.  “Shadow magic!  We’ve got incoming.”

I heard Kinsey’s jewel-hilted rapier scraping free of its sheath. The sound was repeated among the rest of our family.  Angie’s face darkened with facial hair, her limbs twisted, and her body fell, bucking, flailing in the throes of change.  Like me, she needed time for this—time I’d have to buy her because fey bodies were forming out of clots of darkness.  A dozen warriors in black chainmail appeared swords in hand.  They carried miniature round shields in their opposite hands.  The black shields had curved lines of silver on them, a pattern suggesting black roses.  A memory surfaced in the back of my mind.  I’d heard of these guys from Selene.  They were an elite guard of the Shadow Court, the black rose order. 

I sent a thought out to my armory, linked to it by one of my tattoos.  Two PX4 Storm Berettas popped into my hands.  I fired at once, before my family could rush in and block my shots.  Not that it did any good.  My shots went through the heads of four different targets, doing no damage.  Some weird kind of magic was being used.  The enemy were real shadows, though their swords would probably strike with lethal finality.

I returned my guns to my armory, calling my demon sword out of thin air.  The straight katana was black steel with a haze of demonic red energy along the blade.  I evaded left, striking right against a shadow sword coming at my head.  I felt no impact, but the haze of red stopped the enemy blade.  The warrior coming at me widened his eyes, seeing I could block a shadow weapon. 

While his what-the-fuck moment stalled him out, I took advantage of being inside his guard by turning my sword’s edge toward him and slashing across his neck.  His head came off, hit the stone floor, and exploded into black mist that thinned and was gone.  His headless body also exploded into nothing, reminding me of a vampire in sunlight.

By then, I was onto another warrior who’d seen Angie changing, and was moving in to kill her before the wolf appeared.  My blade severed his wrist.  His sword and hand hit the stone floor and burst apart.  I stepped in close, spinning so that I gob-smacked him across the face with my right hand—the hand with the shadow brand crackling with black lightning.  I made contact with solid flesh, wrenching the man’s head around so hard, I heard neck vertebrae shatter with multiple
cracks
.

While he was down, I finished him off with a stab from my demon sword.  With my sword embedded in the warrior’s heart, he exploded into more black cloud. 

Dammit
, my sword bitched,
I’m not getting any souls from these kills.

“Yeah,” I said, “life’s a bitch.”

The rest of the shadow men were targeting my family; a number of duels were taking place and only Drake and Kinsey seemed to be holding their own, channeling their golden lightning into their swords.  The other family members saw this and used the same technique, rallying.

Angie whined like the wolf-bitch she was becoming, writhing in pain as she pushed her transformation speed to an all new high.  From the sound of her, it hurt like hell, but it must have been cathartic because the killing spirit in her eyes was a joy to behold.  As far as I knew, this was the first she’d gone wolf since her rescue from William.

Long overdue.

Not being pressed, I had time to notice two enemy warriors hanging well back from all the fighting.  Both had strung bows in their hand and black arrows under pressure, dark mirror images of each other.  One of them was targeting me. 

So, of course, my sword had to give me crap. 
What the fuck, man!  Shadow souls?  Really.  I can’t eat that shit.

“Suck it up or not, it’s not my problem.”

Not your problem?  I’ll make it your problem.

I held my sword in front of me as the arrow sped my way.  Having plotted the angles and allowed for wind, I expected to deflect the arrow with well-trained reflexes and the demon aura of my blade.  The red haze vanished from the black steel.  The metal of the sword gave no resistance to the arrow’s shaft.  The point dug into my left shoulder.  The arrow black-misted away, but I could feel some of it inside my body becoming a crackle of black fire.

Hahahahahahahahahahaha!
  The swords laughter pealed inside my head. 

“I’ll deal with you later,” I promised.  I sent the sword back to my armory.  Fighting numbness in my left arm, I wiggled my fingers and moved the arm from the shoulder, trying to will the weakness away before it spread any further.

The part of my mind on Angie noted that she was fully wolf now, and growling like a sheep-shagging knuckle-dragging sonuvabitch.  Her face swung toward the bowman who’d shot me, and her haunches launched her with claws scrabbling on the rock.  The bowman shot too fast, not properly tracking the werewolf.  The arrow sped past her ear and hit the floor, skittering away.  The shadow warrior snatched up another arrow and fit its notched end to the string.

Angie leaped the last ten feet.  And sailed completely through the fey’s body, doing no damage.  She hit and skidding, spinning back around for another charge.  She couldn’t touch her prey, but he could touch her.  At close quarters, he dropped the bow and pulled out a ten-inch silver knife.  The bloodlust in Angie gave way to caution as she went just out of reach.  Silver was the only vulnerability wolves had.  Wounds made by anything else healed with supernatural speed.

I left the problem of the knife to Angie, shifting attention to the second bowman.  All the time the fighting had raged, he’d kept his ready-stance, but not fired a shot.  He wasn’t moving, didn’t seem to be breathing. 

I had an “
ah-hah!”
moment
.
 

Needing to be functional again, I pulled a flow of raw, golden magic through my body, into the shoulder wound.  I had a sense of resistance, of darkness anchoring itself inside me, refusing to be moved. 
More than one way to skin and butcher a career politician
.  I concentrated on my right hand.  The blackness deepened on the shadow brand.  Dark jags webbed the surrounding air.  I slapped that hand against my left shoulder, pouring shadow lightning into the site. 

Darkness met darkness, fused, and became entirely mine.  I pulled my hand away and held an arrowhead up to see.  Its darkness fumed away to nothing, leaving my hand empty.  Blood flowed from the wound.  The numbness left and except for mild pain, I was ready to go.