Demon Lord 3: Blue Star Priestess (14 page)

Swiveling, the giant pursued.  He roared, and showed me a purple-brown tongue as well as his tonsils.  He raised both fists like hammers, a heartbeat away from pulverizing me. On instinct alone, I drew my gun and shot him in the forehead.  The bullet bought me a split-second to reboot my brain, but the giant didn’t move in on me.  I watched him swaying, fighting to move.  His eyes flamed with rage.  Some intervening force had seized control of his stony limbs, his crystal-bead nerves, and muddy blood. 

“I got him.”  Zero-T appeared at my side, his chest huffing a little from his mad dash across the cemetery.  He gave me a shove.  “Go on, I assume you’ve got things to do and people to kill.”

Yeah, definitely.

Aware that more enemies might be waiting to ambush me, I warmed my
Demon Wings
tattoo.  Ghost heat roasted my eyeballs and melted my tongue down my throat.  I gagged and choked a moment, until the sensations vanished, leaving no actual damage.  Cloaked by my You-Don’t-See-Me spell, I staggered into a run, heading back toward Julia.  I hadn’t far to go, but was slowed by a ground fog that had whipped itself up out of nowhere.

Weather magic?  Shit! What’s next?

I reached Red’s family crypt, going slow as I looked for Julia.  She wasn’t where I’d left her.  She might have just come to, and wandered away in the fog.  I didn’t want to yell.  A lurking magic-user might not immediately see through my demon spell, but if yelled, it could tip the scales toward self-betrayal. 

A misshapen shadow appeared in the fog, flat, gray, and big for a human. 

I took a step closer and the shape gained definition: humanoid, a guy in a protective suit that looked like he’d borrowed it off of a hazmat team, except this suit was deep blue and covered in pale blue runes along with various occult symbols, modern and ancient.  The white scroll was tucked in his suits black belt.

He had Julia draped over one shoulder, and—conscious or not—she held on to her toy dragon like life itself.

I drew my PPK, the one that was still loaded, and aimed at his tinted faceplate.

He said, “You do realize I can see the void you’re making in the fog, right?”

FOURTEEN

“It’s not my fault the apocalypse

came early.  No one paid me to stop it.”

                                      —Caine Deathwalker

He shifted so I couldn’t take a head shot without risking Julia—and her stuffed dragon.  I had a hunch gunfire wasn’t going to do much good anyway.  All those symbols covering him had to be good for something; he stood relaxed, with way too much confidence—like there were endless things he knew that I didn’t. 

A step angled my body to make a smaller target in case he started to sling magic around.  My left hand filled with dragon fire.  I needed time to gather and compress the fire, to create a plasma jet.  And there were still questions about who was behind these attacks.  I’d start with this guy. 

“You’re hired help?” 

His voice came distorted through his visor, “It’s too early for you to know my secrets.”

“One time offer; put the girl down and I’ll let you walk away,” I lied.

He said, “She’s better off with me.  I’m far more deserving of such a cute little sister than you are.  By the way, I can see light fanning through the fog, if not your actual fire.  I’ve got tricks too.”

The sky rumbled.  Daylight dimmed.  A storm-wet wind flattened the grass, and whipped at the fire I held.  The fog was beaten down by a drizzling rain.  Then the whole world went incandescent white, bleached to nothing.  Thunder boomed.  The world returned in stunned detail and I saw a monument that had been blasted into ruin by lightning. 

Weather wizard?

The possibility of getting deep-fried by lightning would have scared me once, before I’d discovered the dragon side of me could eat lightning and spit it out.  If electricity was his trump card, I was going to tear this guy a new one. 

I laughed quietly, hoping to piss him off and mess with his judgment.  “That’s all you got?”

He stiffened, then relaxed.  “Not even close.”

With no betraying fog around, I gambled he hadn’t pierced my spell and still couldn’t see me.  A few steps diagonally forward gave me a good line of attack.  He might track the moving light of my fire, if not the fire itself, but if I was fast enough…

I dropped to one knee, aiming low to minimize the chance I’d hit Julia if he moved.  A red-gold plasma jet spun off my hand and slashed the air between the Hazmat Man and me.  The bolt lifted him off his feet, slamming him back, but he kept hold of Julia, twisting cat-like in the air to get his feet under him once more.  He landed in a balanced stance.  Despite myself, I respected the time he’d obviously spent in training.

His protective magic wasn’t shabby either.  The plasma stream should have left him with no reproductive organs, but his magic-reinforced suit had shunted aside the attack.  There wasn’t even smoke clinging to him.  That was almost as miraculous as the fact that—through all of this—Julia still hadn’t dropped the stuffed dragon I’d given her.   Kid had a grip of steel.

A series of lightning flashed blinded me.  The air was burned as the jags exploded headstones, spraying rubble at me from several directions.  Strangely, the rocks veered aside as if they had better things to do than hit me. 

Thunder engulfed me, the sound of God bitch-slapping the world.  Underfoot, the earth shuddered from the impact.  A scream separated out of the fading thunder: the shriek of the roc.  It was back, falling out of the storm clouds, coming right for me. 

Fortunately, I was too manly to piss my pants, settling for an “Oh, fuck!” Instead. 

Zero-T crowded in.  “Here you are, hogging all the fun again.  Really, you
must
learn to share.”

“Not on your life, though I do admire your timing.”

“I’d have been here sooner, but it took a little time to erode the mountain giant to basic components.  Eww, what a mess.”

Zero-T raised palms like he was lifting an invisible weight.  The ground between us and the Hazmat Man thrust itself into the air like a wave.  It curved so I couldn’t see the cloudy sky—or the screaming roc.  Bird Brain hit the earth wall with a loud
whump
!  His talons broke through like clutching swords, but closed on empty air.  Deflected, he flew over us, shredding the barrier in passing.

I threw myself forward through the rubble.  Beyond, I found—nothing!  Hazmat Man was gone.  And so was Julia.  I scanned the graveyard for movement. 
Where the hell are they?

“Uh, Caine?” Zero-T said.

“Busy,” I said.

He said, “Did it seem to you that that big bird had a saddle strapped on?”

“What?  A saddle?”  I spun, staring at the overcast sky.  I saw the receding roc, and yes, it did have a saddle on it, with riders, one big, one small, and one very small.  The bastard was getting away with the Atlantean death spell, Julia, and the damned stuffed dragon.  They dwindled very quickly.

“Damn,” Zero-T said, “I wanted a piece of him.”

“I’ll bring you back his head in a bag so you can have a nice skull-fuck.” 

“I don’t do guys,” Zero-T said, “and especially not when they’re dead.”

I holstered my PPK, reached inside my Kevlar collar, and pulled up a leather cord.  A little bag was tugged into view, prepared for just such a moment.  I grabbed the bag, feeling a one-by-two inch vial through the black fabric.  I channeled raw magic into my hand.  Golden light beamed between my fingers as I invoked the magical elixir of flight.

I was hoping to save this for something else but screw it.

Its power radiated into me, sending tingling tendrils into my brain, supercharging the psi-center.   I focused on feeling feather light, on telekinetically lifting myself off my feet.  I rose, slow at first, then faster as the magic holding me finished settling in. 

“Caine, you can fly!”

“What was your first clue?”

His answer was lost in the wind stream as I darted into the sky.  I’d had dreams like this, of flying against clouds, feeling the wind roar past, of the ground falling away to become a quilted cityscape, the patches divided by streets.  I matched the roc’s altitude.  Now I only had to catch up—before the elixir wore off.  I hoped that would be gradually.  I really didn’t want to lose this power all at once, streak to earth, and go splat, but gain requires risk at times.

Inflamed by a desire to go pull its wings off, I watched the roc.  Murderous intent fueled my flight, slingshotting me even faster.  The roc looked humming bird size, then scaled up to the dimensions of a chicken, a turkey, a city bus, and then it was the size of a dragon.  A few more yards, and I could pluck a few tail feathers.

Teased by the wind, the bag I wore bounced against my chest, as I cupped both hands. 

Dragon fire pooled there, building, thrashing against my control.

Not yet.  Wait for it.  Wait for it.

As though sensing my magic, the Hazmat Man turned in the saddle, craning his neck to look back.

Die!
 
I shoved the plasma bolts ahead of me.

He kicked the bird.  It glanced back too, saw me, and blinked in confusion.  By the time the
roc angled higher, it was too late.  My plasma streams closed the distance and drilled a huge hole through its right wing.  The roc screamed in pain, plunging earthward in a wobbly glide.

I allowed gravity to get hold of me again, yanking me down to follow, and willed myself to plunge even faster.  I shot along one wing and drew abreast of the saddle.  The Hazmat Man gripped its horn in one fist, his other hand securely wedging Julia against him like a shield.  She flailed a hand without purpose, her eyes fluttering as she woke up.  Seeing the ground rushing so far below made her eyes go wide.  I thought it fear at first, but as she laughed, I knew she felt excitement. 

Let Disneyland get a ride like this!

I yelled my enemy, “Hiding behind a little girl?  I am so going to kill you!”

Hazmat Man turned his visor toward me.  If he hadn’t been holding onto Julia and the saddle, I think he would have flipped me off.

Still in a steep glide, the roc swung its head over.  His cruelly curved beak opened.  I saw a red tongue and a throat big enough to swallow me whole.  The head lunged.  The beak snapped shut.  I veered enough to stay clear, but was still way too close.  However, since I was close, I kicked his beak with a foot wrapped in dragon flame.  He flinched away as fire splashed near one of his eyes.

The ground streaked closer.  The roc pulled up, leveling out to land.  The holes I’d made in his wings smoked.  The feathers around the wounds had caught flame and were burning.  The weather wizard didn’t seem to do anything, but a pounding squall kicked up.  Rain half-blinded me, stinging my face with bits of hail.  Jags of lighting zipped by, precision dropped from the raging clouds high above.  Close but not close enough.  Hazmat Man had to be care with that willful stuff and not hit his own ride.

Julia was still laughing, clutching her dragon to her chest, either bracer than hell, or too much a dragon’s child to be afraid.  Or maybe she was showing off.

A sign with golden arches reared up in our way.  I swerved lower to get under it.  The roc just smashed through, bleeding off speed, tilting the pole, scattering its plastic pieces.  The bird was skewed sideways, made a turn, and somehow returned to course, rushing over the roofs of several businesses.   I think he was looking to collapse in a place that was half-way soft, a park or something.  If so, he didn’t have much more time in the air to find it.

At impact, I’d rush in and get Julia, pulling her out of danger when Hazmat Man had a lot more to worry about.  A bakery with a “for sale” sign was looming nicely.  Another few seconds…

He rolled out of the saddle, yanking Julia along with him.  The roc blocked my view, but I figured Hazmat Man was dropping to earth.  I just had to hope he wasn’t using Julia to break his fall.  I willed myself to stop, and let the roc pass me.  I heard it hit a wall, scattering bricks and busting out windows.  Its last screech acquired an echo as it fell into an enclosed space.

Visibility remained bad, as the rain dumped on the city and lightning strobed the world.  Thunder cracked and boomed, temporarily muting the car horns of congested traffic.  Risking death, I swooped lower, skimming traffic, dodging a traffic light, as I looked for my enemy and Julia.  To make matters worse, my flight acquired a shudder, losing smoothness.  I had the sneaking suspicion my flight elixir was wearing off.

Hang in there
, I told the magic vial,
I only need a few minutes more.

I warmed up my
Dragon Sight
tattoo, and a felt a crunch across my abdomen and lower spine, as if I’d become the rat in a sprung rattrap.  I grunted, distracted by the sensation for one second too long, barreling straight into the overhang of a big-rig.  I bounced back, fell onto the cab of the truck, and felt it break and slide under me.  I clawed at the cab but couldn’t get a grip.  My body flipped and somehow, I was dangling from a side mirror strut, looking into the cab through the passenger door’s window. 

The truck skidded to a stop while the driver stared at me in incomprehension.  I hurt with bruises on top of bruises.   I suspected that a few bones were cracked.  I probably had concussed, internal organs as well.  If I didn’t have a high tolerance for pain, I’d have been limping toward the nearest hospital.  But there was no time for indulgence. 

Julia.

With the last erg of lightness I had, I climbed the side of the truck and went from the cab to the top of the trailer.  With the extra height, I scanned the area, not knowing if it was a good or bad that the storm was breaking up.  Just when I thought Hazmat Man had escaped me completely, I saw tendrils of dirty blue magic and Julia’s scarlet, almost pink, magic trail going south. 

There was a chance I could supercharge the elixir with a massive concentration of raw magic and get one last burst of flight.  I drew energy through my body, sucking in my aura, tapping my lifeforce directly.  This would either work, or the flight elixir vial was going to go off like a hand grenade.  An idiot would think I took the risk out of sentiment. 

No, damn it, that’s not it.
 

I’d crushed out such weakness in me decades ago.  I took this risk because what was mine had to
stay
mine.  I had a greedy compulsion about the things—uh, people—I surrounded myself with.

The black bag that hung against my chest pulsed with yellow-white light, becoming hidden.  The flight spell was no longer painless.   It felt like an axe were embedded in my skull as I leaped off the trailer, heading for the mystic traces I’d found.  The betraying colors led around a corner, into an alley.  I slammed up through the air, arcing over the intervening building in a high-speed shortcut.

Staring down, I saw hazmat Man dragging Julia out of the other end of the alley.  They crossed into the street and waved down a gray Civic.  Hazmat man dragged the driver out and sent him sprawling.  The driver cursed as his vehicle left without him.  I tried to veer and pursue, but the vial I wore exploded, turning me over, sending me into a diagonal slide from the sky.  I saw a two-story house rushing to meet me and knew I’d die if I couldn’t soften up the roof before hitting it.  My thinking was fuzzy, dull with exhaustion.  I’d been firing off spell after spell, and draining my lifeforce steadily for one thing after another.  I didn’t know that I had enough magic left to summon a blast of dragon fire—but it was all I knew to try.