The Last Slayer (28 page)

“That’s a handsome ring,” Alexandros said suddenly, sipping his wine. “What does the
M
stand for?”

I continued cutting my veal, consciously keeping my hands relaxed. “Miguel.”

“Someone special?”

I glanced at Alexandros. “My first lover.”

Ramiel seemed to stiffen a bit, and the incubus king’s dark eyebrows rose slightly.

“One of your kind killed him,” I continued. “And I’m going to hunt it down and make it pay.”

“‘It’?”

“Doesn’t deserve to be humanized.” I gave the incubus a smile. “This is one of the reasons why you and I can never be allies, Alexandros.”

He gazed at me languidly. “Is that so? Not even if I tell you who killed your precious lover?”

I almost dropped my cutlery. “You know?”

“Some of us have been tracking you. Who do you think filed those complaints with the Federation?”

“You?”

“Not me. I found your zeal entertaining, but my councilors disagreed. You were incredibly cruel, even to the ones who surrendered. Dismemberment is forever.”

I deliberately let a slow smile spread across my face and satisfaction permeate my voice. “Yeah, it is.” Then I thought about Ramiel’s wing, felt slightly guilty, and took a long swallow of wine. “You want to preserve more of your boys, give me the name of the culprit.”

“Ashera, this isn’t the time,” Ramiel said. He looked pained by Alexandros’s continued efforts to distract me from forming this “alliance.” “You have to think about claiming Eastvale first.”

“You aren’t the only one who’s sworn an oath, Ramiel.” Why did he care about my situation with Miguel anyway? He just wanted to keep his vow, whatever it was. As I wanted to keep mine.

I realized that it gave us something in common.

Ramiel chewed his lip for a moment, looking at me steadily, then finally said, “We are not the only ones courting an alliance with the incubi.”

Then everyone must be stupid, because who the hell could trust incubi? I would have preferred to spend a day with a serial killer than a creature of nightmare.

“It’s true,” Alexandros said. “I only came here because I’m rather fond of Ramiel. And because I heard you antagonized Nahemah, which is always great sport, if, er, somewhat dangerous.”

Great. So everyone knew about my situation with her. I pushed my chair back. “You’ll have to excuse me, gentlemen.”

“You aren’t finished eating,” Ramiel said.

“Lost my appetite.” I turned to Toshi. “Do you mind showing me back to my room?”

“I’ll be happy to do that,” Alexandros said smoothly.

Now Ramiel was on his feet too. “I am the host. I’ll take care of it.”

“Not necessary,” Alexandros said. “No trouble at all.”

“Fine by me. Ramiel, you can have my dessert.”

Ramiel’s eyes hardened, but he couldn’t make a scene without looking ridiculous. For once, I was grateful for his control. I took Alexandros’s arm, and we left together. The vast hall was blessedly free of activity. Maybe the bas-reliefs had signed a peace treaty.

We turned a corner, and I looked around, checking for mirrors and potential witnesses.

There was nothing.

Alexandros was just starting to say something as we passed a small statuary nook. I took a firmer hold on his arm and shoved him into it, hard. He grunted as his back hit the stone wall, and the statuette he displaced landed on the floor with a loud thud. He didn’t resist much, but I wished he had. I would’ve loved to break his nose. Ruin his too-handsome face.

I pushed a forearm against his neck, my hand grabbing his shirt. “Who was it?”

“Who was what?” He frowned as if he was confused, but a glint in his eye gave him away.

I applied a bit more pressure. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I can’t tell you. Not until you prove yourself worthy of such knowledge.”

“Worthy, huh?” I held my other hand out and my sword appeared in it. “You may be older than dirt, but this blade will kill you.”

“Ah, but if you kill me, you will never find out.” He smiled, revealing perfect white teeth, and put a hand over mine. The skin-to-skin touch startled me. My grip on the sword tightened.

Suddenly he pushed me away with unexpected strength, and I stumbled backward. We faced each other, me with my blade and him with nothing.

He straightened his shirt. “Kill me if you like, but know that you’ll face the wrath of all the world’s incubi in addition to the dragonlords who are after you. We may not be as powerful as demigods, my dear, but we breed much more quickly.”

“Don’t think so. They’ll thank me for getting rid of someone as insufferable as you.”

He shrugged. “Possibly.”

Confident bastard. But why shouldn’t he be? Even though I wanted to skewer him, I couldn’t. Spilling his blood in Besade, where he and I were guests, would place a death obligation on me.

“Ashera, history is replete with what your generation calls ‘losers.’ I didn’t survive this long by siding with them. Tell you what.” Alexandros leaned closer, well within the compass of my sword, and winked conspiratorially. “You claim your dragonhold, and I’ll hold a feast in your honor. Then we’ll talk some more.”

While he was close he brushed my cheek with his lips, making me flinch. “Your room’s down the hall,” he murmured…and walked away, laughing as he went. It left a bitter taste, and I wiped the kiss violently from my cheek. Bloody insufferable demon bastard.

I walked down the hall and shoved the door to my room open.

Ramiel was lounging on the couch. I guess he’d skipped dessert.

He stood. “At last you arrive.”

“Excuse me, this is
my
room.”

“They are
all my
rooms.”

Pissing contest. Typical. “Didn’t you trust Alexandros to see me here safe and sound? After all, it was your idea to invite him here, to have him be my potential ally.”

Ramiel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I was more worried about his safety than yours. I would advise you to relinquish the memory of your dead boyfriend.”

“Why?”

“It’s been years, for one.”

“Oh, and how many hundreds of years have you been holding a grudge against Nahemah? And how about this famous vow of yours? Hasn’t that been years as well?”

“Entirely different.”

“Of course it is. Whatever suits you is different, isn’t it?”

He took a step forward. “Ashera—”

“No.” I put a hand between us. “You listen. You’ve done everything in your power to manipulate me, including lying about Valerie’s condition, and I’m not going to sit here and pretend that everything’s all right—”

“Miguel is dead—”

“I loved him!”

We stared at each other, my harsh breathing the only sound in the room. Finally Ramiel said, without inflection, “Mortal infatuations pass.”

“Not this one.” It hurt to think about Miguel. To voice for the first time what he’d meant to me. Valerie knew, of course, but she was my sister and I’d never had to explain it. “He loved me for everything that I was.”

Unlike you.

I didn’t say the words, but they were there between us. Ramiel was wrong. I wasn’t infatuated with Miguel, but with him, the brilliant and magnetic demigod who had swooped into my life and changed everything. I’d foolishly thought he’d wanted me the way Miguel had. And why not? Ramiel had never shown any interest in Valerie or a job at the firm.

The girl does resemble Leh, I give you that, and I’m sure she’s decent in bed. But she’s a poor substitute. Leh wanted Nathanael.

Knowing what I now knew, I wished I hadn’t transformed into a mirror image of my mother. I would’ve been a little bit more certain of Ramiel’s feelings toward me if I had remained flat-chested and frizzy-haired.

“Listen, Ramiel. Listen very carefully, because I’m not going to say this again. I made a decision to trust you. Even though you’ve done some things
that really pissed me off,
the fact of the matter is that I’m still alive, and if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be. Neither would Valerie. So okay. Fine. You want me to go to Eastvale and claim it, I will, if for no other reason than to ensure I’ll have enough power to get the Triumvirate off my back and protect Valerie and Jack from them.” I took a step forward and pushed my index finger into his chest. “But my trust is for matters pertaining to the dragonlords. Not my—” I stopped. I’d almost said “heart” and I didn’t want him to know how much he affected me.

“Not your…?”

“My…emotional…whatever. I don’t know if you like me because of who I am, or how I look, or if you even really like me at all. I thought we had something there, back at Nahemah’s, but now I’m not so sure. And now you’re trying to get Alexandros as an ally? I’m telling you, I can’t trust him…or anyone who consorts with his kind. In any case, understand this—you
do not
have the right to advise me about Miguel. I’ll find his killer sooner or later, and when I do, believe me, it’s not going to be pretty. What I do to the…thing that killed him is going to go down in demon history.
So don’t get in my way.”

“I regret that you harbor such prejudice toward incubi. I am partly one, and Alexandros is, to that degree, my liege. Albeit in name only.”

I almost choked. “What?”

“Where do you suppose I derive the power to enter dreams and affect sexual desire?”

My knees felt weak. I had to lock them to remain standing and blinked hard to clear my vision. “You’re an incubus?”

He lifted his chin slightly. “One-quarter. Nobody knows about it except Alexandros, but that’s his right as the incubus king.”

“But Nahemah said—”

“She knows only that I am not a pure-blooded dragonlord.”

“So I’ve been…”

“Consorting with Alexandros’s kind.”

My brain refused the information, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t heard it. God…I…Ramiel was… It was bad enough that I was with a supernatural, but he was a quarter incubus, public enemy number one as far as I was concerned. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I want you to know. I want you to know who you’re with and know that even if you don’t trust me, I trust you.”

“No, no.” I shook my head. “This is a joke, right? I mean you’re pissed because I said I wasn’t going to play nice with the incubus king?”

Ramiel didn’t say anything. I stared into those green eyes, wishing I was telepathic so I could know what he was thinking. I couldn’t believe he was what he said he was. This had to be some huge cosmic joke.

“Ashera. It is my deepest secret. I am trusting you with it.”

It was just too much. I stood staring for what seemed an eternity. Finally I stepped back. “Well, the big day is coming soon, right?” I said. Of all the questions and thoughts that swirled in my head, that was the only thing I could say without breaking down in front of him. “I’m tired, so I’m going to bed early. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ramiel looked as though there were still things he wanted to say, but in the end he nodded and left, for which I was grateful. I sank to the floor and hugged my knees. My heart ached so much I could only take shallow breaths. My eyes burned as I stared at my reflections, but no tears would come to the perfect face. I buried my head in my hands. Maybe I’d wake up tomorrow and this would all turn out to be a dream.

A dream I wouldn’t remember.

A small sharp knock on wood.

Another one.

I opened my eyes. Thick curtains blocked most of the light into the room, and I had no idea what time it was. Despite my fervent wish last night, I wasn’t back in my old condo. And I still remembered Ramiel’s revelation.

The knock came again, somehow managing to sound both tentative and insistent.

“Come in,” I said.

The door opened about an inch and Toshi zipped in. “Good morning, milady.”

“Good morning.” I sat up. “What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock, milady.” He seemed unconscionably perky, tongue snapping in and out of his mouth like a party favor. “Dorian is here to see you.”

“Who?”

“Besade’s blacksmith and armorer.”

I still didn’t know what Toshi really meant by
armor.
The supernatural have their own way of looking at things. It could have been anything from chain mail to a web of pure magic.

“Is it going to be heavy?” I didn’t want anything hampering my movement.

“Oh heavens no. Dorian’s no common blacksmith. Would you like breakfast?”

“Um, just some coffee would be nice.”

Toshi conjured me a cup. I took a long sip and sighed as a hint of vanilla lingered in my mouth. Mmmm. It was the best I’d ever had. Toshi could make a killing if he opened a coffee shop in DC.

“Do I get a shield?” I asked, warming a little to the idea.

“If you’d like one,” he said as he zipped back and forth straightening the pillows on the bed.

I rested my chin in my hand and watched him work. “How come you’re not using your magic?”

Toshi swiveled toward me in midair, a corner of a sheet in his claws. “It’s a sign of respect that I perform physical labor for you.”

My mouth formed a small O. “Thank you.”

“I exist to serve, milady.”

That sounded a tad too medieval for me to be entirely comfortable with it. “Where are Ramiel and Alexandros?”

“His Majesty returned to his court last night, declaring that he would not help anyone who can’t benefit him.” Toshi lost a little altitude. “Perhaps he felt that way because the meal wasn’t to his liking. I noticed nobody stayed for the dessert.”

“Uhh…”

He sniffled. “Lord Ramiel is raising his army. And contacting the Dragonlords of Higashiro.”

“The Dragon
lords
of Higashiro?” I said, latching on to the new topic before Toshi could burst into tears. A dragonhold could have only one master. Or so I’d been taught. On the other hand, mortals hadn’t had much contact with dragonlords since the Twilight of Slayers, so things might have changed in the last four hundred years or so.

“They’re twins, so they’re really one and the same. They’re one of the Triumvirate of Lapslora.” Toshi paused, then frowned. “Or was it two? But that makes no sense.” He began to count on his claws. “It’s Eastvale, Higashiro and Besade.” Satisfied, he looked up at me. “So they’re one.”

“Shouldn’t the older one be the Lord of Higashiro?”

“Yes, of course. But we don’t know which one was born first.”

That was weird. Supernaturals are sticklers for such things. “Why not?”

“I don’t know, milady. It was many centuries ago. Not even the Advisors could tell, so they rule Higashiro together.”

Ha! So much for the infallible Advisors. “Does Higashiro have a large army?”

“Quite. And very fierce warriors. They would rather die than lose.”

Mmmm…did this mean they committed
hara-kiri
after a defeat? Personally I prefer revenge to suicide, but you know, different strokes. Still, they sounded valiant…although I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go into battle with them. Alexandros thought Higashiro couldn’t be counted on, and you know things are bad when an incubus starts questioning your dependability.

Seeing my doubtful expression, Toshi said, “Don’t worry, milady. They’re skilled fighters. The Dragonlords of Higashiro became so interested in Japan during the Kamakura period that they modeled their hold after a feudal Japanese castle. And I understand the samurai of the old era were fanatical about fighting and winning.”

So maybe Higashiro’s dragons really did commit
hara-kiri.

“Furthermore, it’s their duty to help you.”

“Really? That’s not what Alexandros implied.”

“Perhaps there was a misunderstanding? The members of a triumvirate always help one another. At least those of Madainsair and Lapslora.”

So…the Triumvirate of Clayra didn’t always help one another, huh? Interesting. But then if I had to deal with someone like Nahemah, I wouldn’t either.

“If someone from Clayra doesn’t want to ally with Nahemah, maybe we can recruit her to our side. Form a group of four,” I said. That was far more palatable than dealing with Alexandros.

Toshi frowned slightly. “That would be very bad.”

“Why?”

“Three-three-three is the ideal power balance, milady. If you created a four-three-two or any other combination… Well, I don’t believe it’s ever been done.”

“But surely, uniting under one cause is more important than preserving some ideal power balance.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. What cause are you referring to?”

Maybe Toshi really wasn’t good at history and current affairs. “Obviously Madainsair wants me dead. That’s their cause. Clayra I’m sure has theirs, and so does Lapslora, though I don’t really know what it is.”

“But there isn’t any special cause for each. Madainsair formed out of a hatred of slayers, and Clayra because the dragonladies wanted to create their own group. As for Lapslora…” He trailed off.

I eventually got tired of waiting. “Well? As for Lapslora…?”

“As for Lapslora…it, er, was formed…well…the uniqueness of each triumvir made them unsuitable for joining the other two.”

“The uniqueness?”

Toshi’s voice lost a bit of volume. “Lord Ramiel is not a pure-blooded demigod. Lords Kenji and Hideki are twins, and you’re half-slayer.”

So Lapslora was a group of…
oddballs?
Even with preternatural good looks and super magic power, I was never going to be a member of the “it” club. Nope. I was always going to be a social misfit. “Would you like a bath?” Toshi asked, suddenly very enthusiastic about the idea.

“No.” I put on my robe and went to the vanity. “But I would like some water to wash my face and brush my teeth.”

“Of course, milady.” A small snap of his tail and twin basins of crystal clear water appeared on a wrought-iron stand by the vanity. “One cold, one warm for your use. They’ll continue to refill as you deplete them.”

“Thank you.”

He left, and I pushed the curtains open. The morning sun burst in, immediately turning the room into a blinding solarium. The mirrors reflected the light endlessly, and I felt like I was standing in the center of a sun.

I pulled the curtains back into place.

Another day, another challenge.

I needed to let Valerie know what had happened, although maybe she knew already. She was usually able to put two and two together. I also needed to send a formal letter of resignation to Jack. Hmm. Maybe I could just send a request for an extended leave of absence instead and keep my options open. I’d been planning to quit, but that was before I learned about my choice of allies and Ramiel’s bloodline. Then there was the matter of figuring out how to reach Eastvale without facing Nathanael. Everyone seemed to think it was inevitable, but I had no intention of fighting him or his buddies if I could help it.

The memory of what had happened the last time I faced him covered my body with a thin cold sweat. The lightning flash of his sword, the faint hiss of air as the blade cut from so many directions. I hated to admit it, but I was afraid of him. I should have had more confidence now that I had a heartstone, but I didn’t. There was still only one in me, three in him. I didn’t think it would be much of a contest if we dueled. And Ramiel, even if he was with me, would have other dragons, and possibly Semangelaf and Apollyon, to fight. Even Alexandros thought I couldn’t win.

History is replete with what your generation calls “losers.”

Well, he could think whatever he wanted. I wasn’t going to lose. Leh had told me to make my destiny and that was exactly what I intended to do.

My hand closed around the golden vials of her voice, their contents murky with magic. Why had she given them to me? Were they for the next time we needed to see each other or just in case Supäi visited me again? Of course, first I needed to figure out how to use the vials. I’d become so distracted by her condition after the heartstone extraction that I hadn’t remembered to ask.

So many things to keep track of. When had my life become so complicated?

I splashed my face with the cold water. Maybe things would work out. Actually, they’d better. Dying this young was definitely not in the game plan.

I went to my closet, hoping to find a dress that wasn’t completely ridiculous, opened the doors and stared with utter stupefaction. Gone were the dresses. Blouses, shirts, pants and skirts of various styles and fabrics hung neatly. I walked into it, wondering vaguely if there was a trap door somewhere. Toshi and his buddies couldn’t have swapped all that stuff out while I’d been asleep. So how did they…unless this some kind of magical closet that gave me an unlimited choice of clothes?

Okay, now I
had
to get the Madainsair dragonlords to back off so I could invite Valerie over and show her this thing. She’d have multiple O’s on the spot.

I’d just put on a nice pantsuit when sudden loud clangs and the heavy thump of dragon footsteps came from outside. For a moment I thought Besade might be under attack, but then I realized the sounds were too regular and structured to be a battle. I opened the French doors leading to the balcony and, squinting a little, stepped out into the morning.

In a courtyard the size of a hundred football fields, dragons—not bas-reliefs, but the real articles—were engaged in military drill. Their scales gleamed, the sun gilding their bodies as they changed positions smartly. I couldn’t remember why I had ever thought they were graceless monsters. Their movements were as fluid as water.

The lawn was too big for me to see what was happening on the far side. I made a circular wiping motion in the air with my hand. Moisture began to converge and accrete until it formed a large convex lens that hung in front of my face. Light gathered and bent, enlarging the field so I could observe the details of what was happening.

A tall man stood in the midst of the exercises. He wore elaborate armor worked in silver, the hydra of Besade crawling over his chest and bits of heartstone crusted around his vital points. A helmet with a beautiful royal blue crest protected his head. Even as the helmet obscured his face from my view, I knew it was Ramiel. Dwarfed as he was by the enormous beasts around him, his presence and air of command were unmistakable.

And who else could have stolen my breath away?

I spent some time watching him put his troops through their paces. Even after last night and everything else, my heart gave a funny leap whenever my eyes rested on him. It was hopeless, and I had a feeling that no amount of therapy could cure me of this…thing. People were stupid to sing of the wonders of love. It was an affliction on par with bubonic plague.

Toshi appeared from under the balcony, his wings a shimmering iridescence in the early morning sun. “Milady. If you’re ready, Dorian would like to ask you to try on your armor.”

“Sure.” I turned to reenter my room, but I couldn’t go in without glancing at Ramiel once more. God, I was pathetic. Shouldn’t the fact that he was part incubus repulse me? But no, I wanted him the way an addict craved another hit.

Toshi gave me a look but was too circumspect to say anything out loud. To cover, I said, “Ramiel’s armor is magnificent. Who made it?”

“Dorian, milady.”

“So he’s immortal?”

“Not exactly. He’s a mortal, but blessed with Lord Ramiel’s magic. He will never age or die so long as he is loyal to Besade.”

He must be amazing if he was granted immortality, even on a provisional basis. Supernaturals don’t bestow such gifts lightly.

Toshi led me through long corridors with high arches. The bas-relief figures on the walls were fighting with added ardor. Maybe it was the scent of dragon sweat and excitement over a battle to come, although that was kind of weird since they weren’t the ones about to fight. I ducked as a stone sword swung over my head.

We finally arrived in front of an enormous door. It opened automatically to reveal a sparsely furnished room. Nothing covered the smooth stone floor. Inside the chamber a homely midget stood by a low wooden stool. A plain brown leather tunic covered his hairy ropey body. He bowed, the movement stiff and ill at ease.

“Milady.” His voice sounded like he hadn’t talked in ages.

“Mr. Dorian,” I said with a nod. What was I supposed to do when people started bowing before I could shake hands?

I heard Toshi’s wings humming by my ear. “Did I forget to tell you? It’s
Sir
Dorian.”

I glanced at him. He looked worried. “Of course you told me.” Any other response and I knew what the result would be. I turned to the armorer. “Pardon me, Sir Dorian. My mistake.”

Grunting, Dorian gestured at a big suit of white and silver armor. I walked around it slowly, admiring it. A nine-headed dragon motif coiled around the torso. Two heads looked out from each limb, dorsal and ventral, with the last one centered in the upper back. One of the heads yawned, its forked tongue curling lazily.

“Your armor, milady.” Dorian ran his hands along the scaled body of the dragon with obvious pride. “’Tis the famous nine-’eaded wyvern of Eastvale. Should protect your ladyship right enough.”

All the other stuff that was going on retreated to the back of my mind as I gazed at the armor. It was exquisitely made, meticulously detailed. And a live wyvern to watch my back! What a bonus. If I had to fight, I wanted all the help I could get.

“Go ahead. Try ’er on,” Dorian said.