Read Green Flame Assassin (Demon Lord series, book 2) Online
Authors: Morgan Blayde
“Now I know how a roasted duck feels.”
—Caine Deathwalker
I surfaced into awareness. A swimmer bobbing on a storm-wracked sea, my mind screamed:
danger, danger!
I felt the lack of guns and weapons. My gear had been stripped off along with my clothes. My head ached. I felt dried blood on the side of my face, and smelled iron mixed with the dusty, resinous scent of a pine forest. My arms and hands flapped bonelessly. I seemed to be curled over something as fuzzy as my thoughts. I groaned and slitted open my eyes, and saw dancing, rippling fur, a dark brown rug with spots of sunlight drizzled over it, pulling out brighter, gold tones. The spots overlapped, sliding into each other and out.
Concussion. Seeing double. Want a double Scotch. Wait a minute, this isn’t a rug. It’s alive. The Spirit Bear!
I hung balanced over her shoulder, draped down her back. The bear shambled quickly, occasionally using a front paw to keep me from sliding off. I hadn’t been killed right off. I was being abducted. The possible reasons for this were very scary.
I reached out mentally feeling for my demon sword, hoping I could reach it from a world away.
Feeling tension in my body, the bear skidded to a stop, and let me ride forward. Not letting me fall naturally, a big furry paw caught me in the air and slammed me down with brutal, bone jarring force.
Why the hell isn’t my shield working?
That thought carried me back into darkness.
* * *
The next time round, I stayed limp, slitting my eyes to pick up motion, deepening my breath, keeping it slow as if I were still asleep. My head did more than ache. It felt like an ice pick had been rammed into the back of my skull. I had bruises on my bruises. Everything hurt.
Have to push myself. The longer the bear has me, the worse things will get.
I widened my eyes, forcing them to focus:
ground, thick layers of detritus.
I saw powdery chunks of rotting wood sprinkled about. To the side, a tree had fallen long ago. Its ripped loose roots created a pit that time had filled with a bushy tangle. There were boulders, thick with blue-green moss, showing leprous patches of white rock underneath.
Old Growth forest. If this is still the Dream Marshes, then it been reshaped by the bear. No place like home, I guess
.
It occurred to me that I was upright, seeing the ground because my head was slumping forward. My hands felt numb, feet too.
What the hell…!
The bear walked into view, approaching me with a branch in hand. She dropped the stick, staring into my face. A haze of green light washed the color from her fur. The haze grew into leaping green flames. The bear threw back her head and roared, strong at first, then wavering, weakening. Her features ran like melting wax. The fur burned away, revealing bare, skin. Her whole body compressed, losing mass, snout, and claws as wings of raven hair grew out. The eyes of the morphing bear burned emerald at first, then dimmed, sliding into hazel.
The fire died. A woman stood in place of the Spirit Bear. A woman who’d loved a man I’d killed, and I was at her mercy.
A naked woman who made no effort to clothe herself. She didn’t seem to care, a common attitude among shape-shifters, human or fey. Her breasts were heavier than I liked, but not out of place on her stocky frame. Her muscles were well-defined, showing the benefit of strength training. Core training had also given her a six-pack. Her thighs looked like they could snap a man in half.
I was sporting an erection.
Uh, oh, dead giveaway.
“Ah, I see you’re awake.” Her gruff voice was thick with strength. I think the bear had been trapped within her so long; she’d absorbed many of its ursine traits. “I was about to poke you with a stick.”
I checked out my circumstances. Vines from trees on either side of me had been pulled over and tied to my wrists and ankles. I could see my hands were discolored, an angry red. They’d lost circulation. Even if I manage to summon my demon sword, I couldn’t hold it. That left other magic, but I didn’t want to start a battle when I couldn’t even walk.
Well, that leaves charm and cunning, since my stupid shield has gone on holiday
.
I smiled in a friendly fashion. “So, uh, how about cutting me down? We should talk this out, have a drink or two. Really, I have nothing against you.”
She picked up the branch and smacked my ribs. Her branch broke. She stabbed the broken, pointy end into my right thigh. “Sorry, not in a forgiving mood.”
I looked down at the stick jutting from my thigh. Something’s gone wrong with my magic.
This is the third time my protective shield hasn’t snapped on to saved me since getting kidnapped. When I was on the Red Moon, the dimension changed the way my magic worked. Maybe Fairy’s doing the same thing now.
I shifted my stare to her eyes. They were disappointed. “You’re being brave. No scream, no whimper, no begging for mercy?” She cocked her head to the side. “Not even a flinch.”
Pain and I were old friends, thanks to the payments I make to activate my tattoos. Besides, I’d hurt myself much worse than this before, shaving with a hang-over. Still, I didn’t want to add to my damage.
Time to redirect the conversation, and see if I can make myself real to her so it will be harder for her to kill me. If nothing else, maybe I can buy time until my friends track me down. Assuming they’re bothering to look.
“You’re like me,” I mused. “You know a lot about pain. It’s been with you a long time. I added to that pain. I can’t change that. But I didn’t even know you at the time. Or your lover. He was just a contract someone put out.”
She stilled, hazel eyes brightening to a purer green. “Contract? You destroyed my life for money? It wasn’t even personal?”
“Sorry, no.”
“Wait, who else is my enemy? Who hired you?”
There was no reason not to tell her, especially if it diverted some of her killing-mad off of me. “Offer came from the Loong Corporation in
L.A.. They paid in gold, and gave no reasons for the hit.”
She studied me carefully. “You’re telling me the truth. I can hear your heartbeat. It hasn’t changed.” She smiled unpleasantly. “Ah, I see. You realize I would have tortured it out of you anyway.”
Nah, that’s not it. I’m a borderline sociopath. My reactions aren’t normal.
I would have shrugged if I were able. “Maybe I’m just trying to make a small gesture here. Maybe I’d rather you hunt elsewhere, so I’m not forced to destroy you.”
Women always admire a confident man.
She laughed. “Destroy me? I think you forget which of us is dangling in the air.”
“About that, what’s the point?”
Gotta keep her talking, create a bond.
Distract her from the fact I’ve forced my fingers around the vines.
Flexing my arms,
I held my weight up, easing the pressure on my wrists. At the same time, I tried connecting to Fairy, willing the vines to stretch out a little. When the moment came for a last-ditch effort, I wanted to be able to stand and use my hands. For that matter, if she left camp again, I needed to be able to run—probably for miles.
Talk about a wild dream
.
Yet the vines were looser. I felt pins and needles as circulation crept back.
“What’s the point?” she echoed. She sat on a rock, leaning forward, her hands on her knees. “Have you ever plucked the wings off a dragonfly? I have. Damage is the point. The insect, exiled from the sky, writhes in shock, made into a worm that can’t even dig. Death won’t come fast enough. Not for you either. You’re going to be a crippled worm, begging for death,” she brightened at a thought, “but you know, there’s a little bit courage in you. Impress me enough, and I will do you the honor of eating your still-beating heart.”
There are times I really don’t like the answers I get. I nodded. “So, torture...”
“Just a little. You see, I know your power comes from these marks on your body.”
My tats.
“Well, I’m going to fix that.” She grinned and stood, holding out her hand. Green fire burst up from her palm.
Have to make my move.
I focused on my
Dragon Flame
tat, willing it to life. I waited for pain to come, payment for the magic I needed. But pain didn’t come. I couldn’t feel that subtle warmth that let me know a tat was activating.
Crap! Really got to go old school now.
She took a slow step toward me. Then another.
The vines on me turned to mist. I fell, badly, collapsing to my knees. I tugged the stick in my leg free, and scooped up forest detritus I threw in her face. Expecting her to block the moldy debris with her forearms, shielding her eyes, I launched myself at her like a linebacker.
But growling, she closed her eyes and moved through the dirty cloud, ramming a knee into my collarbone. Fortunately, the blow didn’t land cleanly, or the bone would have broken, maybe piercing my heart. I was in trouble. She wasn’t letting thought slow her down. Wild Woman was embracing her instincts, making few mistakes.
Very Dangerous.
Her blow stopped me dead, leaving me hunched over, one knee grounded. But I knew how to punch through pain. I pumped a flurry of fists into her solar plexus, trying to paralyze the nerve center in her abdomen.
It was like punching a steel bulkhead.
Her hands lifted me off the ground, over her head. She stepped back and simply let me fall. The detritus padded the ground a little, and I used the judo technique of “Slapping the mat” to bleed off energy, reducing the impact. I was still jarred, my already abused brain floated in such a way that I didn’t feel connected to my body for moment.
She dropped on me, hands hot on my body, then hotter. Red-hot agony dug into me.
I bucked, to throw her off.
She held me in place with strength borrowed from her inner bear. Her hands slid to other places, roving from tattoo to tattoo.
I sat up as she moved lower, slamming an elbow in that rocked her head, putting my back muscles into the blow. She growled at me, seizing my penis. The damn traitor was still hard. She said, “Your next blow will cost you dearly.”
“Okay, let’s not go there,” I said.