07- Black Blood Brother Read online

  No chance, I decided. She had too great a sense of duty. She had work to do here in Vegas, and now that she knew I was in town, too, she’d feel obligated to provide oppressive security to keep me alive despite my many enemies.

  Actually, I shouldn’t discourage her, especially since I’m so lightly armed. Note to self: buy shoulder holsters, two Beretta PX4 Storm 9mm sub compacts, multiple clips, and an ass-load of ammo.

  “I’m not going away, Caine. And I’m not letting you run loose, alone. Apparently, you’ve already mislaid your tattoos. I’m not letting my clan lord further endanger himself with rampant stupidity.”

  The bed jounced. I opened my eyes to find her leaning over me, having crawled onto the massive bed. She was exposed, in her natural fire demon form; naked, burnt-black skin catching orange highlights from the dancing flames that clung to her scalp. Normally, her whole body was lightly sheathed in flame. She’d toned down the fire so she wouldn’t burn down the place. My gaze slid from her red-orange eyes, pert nose, and pursed lips to her swaying 32-C cup breasts. The nipples were ruby red, the tips hard pebbles begging for attention.

  I noticed a pendant, a fire opal on a gold chain. I sensed stored magic in the necklace. It was probably enspelled to allow her to shift in and out of her human disguise.

  Her hand slid down my stomach to my thickening erection. Her fingers encircled me, squeezing. Her face lowered, her lips hanging close to mine. “You are awake, aren’t you?”

  My cock yelled. Hell, yes!

  I said, “Hell yes!”

  “Good. Get dressed. Don’t make me flash-fry your balls.” She let go of me and backed off the bed. Turning, she showed me her fine ass as she strolled toward the hotel suite’s sitting room.

  With a groan of disappointment, I rolled to the edge of the bed and swung my feet to the gray and violet area rug. Beyond the rug, dark gray tiles extended to walls that were dusky blue and blue-gray. The ceiling and bedroom furniture were the same stark white as the headboard of the bed. Through the open doors, I saw the next room: an island of white leather furniture sat on an orchid-purple carpet. Imari dropped onto a loveseat, waiting, arms crossed, eyes fixed on me with killing intent.

  I yelled at her. “If someone pissed in your corn flakes, it wasn’t me.”

  “You made me spend time with Zero-T. I told you to pick me up at the airport, not to send him.”

  “So, what’s the big deal? He’s one of my best demons. Heads up my intelligence branch. A totally dependable guy.”

  “Damn bastard believes in Fate.”

  “Let’s string him up!” I looked around for clothes. I was pretty sure I’d strewn them on the floor on the way to the bed. Someone had cleaned up after me.

  Imari? I smiled. She has Momma Bird Syndrome. Tries to be tough, but can’t help looking out after people.

  I called to her. “Hey, you seen my clothes? There’s a magical artifact in the coat pocket that I need to keep on me.”

  “The ring?” She leaned forward a moment, picking something up off the coffee table. She held up the gold band. Its emerald stone flashed. “I can feel the energy in it. What does it do?”

  “Doesn’t get me a blow job, that’s for sure.”

  “Is sex all you ever think about?”

  “Well, the presence of hot, naked, female flesh can be hard to ignore.”

  “Try. Hard.”

  “So, were you raised in a nudist colony, or do all fire demons prefer an unclothed state?” I was actually curious.

  “I am not ashamed of my body. And fire can be hard on clothing.”

  “I’m not ashamed of your body either,” I assured her.

  She glared at me. “Don’t you have enough women to occupy you already?”

  I stood, my mighty erection leading the way. He was pissed. He’d been cock-teased—cocks hate that. He muttered. Bitch, you owe me!

  “I am a connoisseur of women. Variety is the spice of life. Besides, I owe it to women everywhere—in the name of simple fairness—to make myself available to them all. As long as they’re hot.”

  Imari stared. “Ugly women forfeit the right to your manly charms?”

  “Well, duh.”

  I went into the half-open bath area, shaved, and took a quick shower. Toweling off, flinging the towel into a hamper, I wandered naked back out to the closest and opened the sliding door. I had three suits hanging, all summer weight, and black linen with slanted flap pockets. I chose one, added a deep red shirt, ignored the ties, and left everything on the bed while I went to the dresser for socks, watch, wallet, belt, phone and keys.

  The phone went off with the Old Man’s ringtone: Tears of the Dragon by Bruce Dickinson.

  I answered. “Yeah?”

  His voice boomed in my ear. “I’m touched. Here I thought you were out whoring around and you’ve gone to Vegas to arrange my bachelor party.”

  I decided to let him believe what he wanted to. “Uh, yeah, and now the surprise is ruined. I suppose Imari told you I was here.”

  “No, it was the GPS reading I got on your Mustang. I’m the one who told her.”

  “You hacked my ride? Is nothing sacred?”

  “I’m a demon, remember?”

  Yeah, last of the ancient Atlantean demons. As such, you’re supposed to have an unmodern sense of honor. The Old Man had a reputation in the supernatural communities as being the ultimate Boy Scout.

  The Old Man said, “I want you to stop ducking your security and let them protect you.”

  “The First Sword is here right now.”

  “Good. Imari’s new to such responsibilities, but she’s competent. Don’t give her too much trouble.”

  “Trouble? Me? Where do you get these ideas?”

  Laughing, he killed the connection.

  Damn. Now I’m going to have to plan a party. I wonder if I can get a discount on strippers if I rent them by the dozen.

  Minutes later, I was ready to greet what was left of the day. It had to be at least two in the afternoon.

  I walked out into the sitting area. Imari was still on the loveseat. Arms crossed. Waiting with a sour expression.

  I asked, “So what’s going on between you and Zero-T?”

  “Nothing, and I plan to keep it that way.”

  “So, the brother’s got no chance at all?”

  “That’s just it. He’s only skin-deep black. I’m blacker than black.” She caressed her arm with a hand, stroking skin the color of black ink. “In Zero’s mind, that means we gotta be an item.”

  “Ah, that’s what you meant by fate earlier.”

  “It’s the heart that matters. If it’s just about skin, any fire demon will do.”

  “And you don’t think he likes you for what’s inside.”

  “He acts like what’s on the outside is all that matters.”

  I stared at her sweet curves and bouncy tits. “Well, in your case…”

  She glared. Actual flames gushed out of her eyes.

  I decided not to finish my statement.

  Imari said, “Why am I telling an ass-hole my problems?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe because my one virtue is brutal honesty. I care enough to hurt you deeply.”

  She tossed the ring up into the air for me to catch.

  I put on a panicked expression and lunged, snatching desperately. I bobbled the ring a little, making a wild display of barely catching it. Gripping the ring in both hands, I stared wide-eyed at her. “Dammit, Imari, are you trying to take out the whole city!”

  Being the darkest shade of black possible, and a demon besides, it was impossible for her to pale with fear, but her face had a stricken, oh-shit expression. “I—I didn’t know.”

  I relaxed my face and straightened, slipping the ring into a coat pocket.

  Some fire demons are just so damn naive. She knew me; she shouldn’t have believed me.

  I dropped into a white leather, club-style chair as a knock came from the hall door.

  Imari sprang up, touching
the fire opal on her necklace. Her “human guise” settled over her. Her complexion lightened to a medium brown. Her red-orange eyes went dark brown. The fire curling off her scalp, appeared to solidify, becoming brash orange hair. A flame-hued pantsuit ghosted over her skin, hiding her figure. Black sandals sheathed her toes, leaving orange-red toenails exposed. It was a sexy, sassy look, but I preferred her naked.

  Passing for human, she let room service in. A young man—wearing a red-and-black uniform with gold buttons, and a cap—wheeled a metal cart into the room. The cart was covered with a white cloth and had covered dishes on it as well as cups and a silver carafe of coffee. The odor seized-up my heart with excitement. “Is that Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee?”

  Imari smiled at my eagerness. “Yes, my Lord. I know captivity is difficult for you. I thought this would help.”

  At fifty-dollars a pound, she’d thrown restraint to the wind. I was now ready to forgive her for teasing my cock.

  My wilted cock spoke up. Not me. I can hold a grudge forever.

  Nice to know.

  Imari took possession of the cart and sent the waiter off, without a tip. That’s the problem with illusionary pockets; she couldn’t carry real things in them so the poor waiter was out of luck. The coffee table in front of me had a black knapsack with stylized red flames on it. That had to be how she was carrying around her essentials. I had the childish urge to dive into the knapsack and go exploring, but resisted. After all, she’d yet to hand me my coffee.

  She approached carrying a saucer and steaming cup in hand. She set the beverage on the table, just in reach, and snatched up her bag, giving me a suspicious glare.

  I gave her my most innocent expression.

  She loosened drawstrings that were miniature ropes and opened her bag, dredging around.

  I frowned at her as I claimed my drink. “I am insulted. As if I’d steal from my own people. I am deeply hurt.”

  Without looking out of her bag, she muttered. “Everything seems to be here.”

  “You’re here to keep me safe,” I said, “and you didn’t even search the waiter. He could have been a bad guy, armed to the teeth, come to kill me.”

  She sat and settled her bag in her lap, giving me a sneer with a curled lip. “I know my job. I’ve already vetted the hotel employees, memorizing their faces. He’s all right.”

  “What if he’d been a bad guy wearing a magical disguise, like the kind you use?”

  She shrugged. “Then he would have tried something and I would have turned him into a highly carbonated crispy critter.”

  “Okay, that’s a good answer, but what if someone paid him to bring in the cart and leave it—with a bomb hidden under the cloth?”

  She stared at me. “A bomb?”

  “A pipe bomb loaded with nails for shrapnel, or maybe C4 with a radio detonator. You can get so occupied with magical and supernatural threats that normal ‘hitman’ tactics get past your guard.”

  “I’m not an idiot. I’ve got a magical crystal that reacts to the presence of dangerous substances.” She rummaged in her bag again and pulled out a chunk of smoky quartz. It gave off a yellowy grey light. “This would be glowing if there were…”

  I stared at the crystal. Oh, crap!

  She stared at her crystal. “Oh, crap!”

  She jumped up, vaulted the back of the loveseat, and ran to the cart. I joined her there. She threw up the cloth to look under it. I grabbed the carafe of expensive coffee and ran to the hallway door. I wrenched the door open and saw Zero-T, his hand raised to knock.

  Imari yelled. “Pipe bomb!”

  I tucked the carafe to my side, pushed Zero-T out of my way, and ducked into the hall, leaving the door open behind me. “Don’t worry,” I yelled. “I’ve got the coffee.”

  “What the hell?” Zero-T said.

  The pipe bomb exploded.

  EIGHT

  “Good help isn’t hard to find.

  Kill off the underachievers and

  the survivors shape up quickly.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  The explosion was a muffled whump! Underwhelming. Contained. I’d thought it would be. Running out of the room was my way of giving Imari a free hand in dealing with the bomb. Without her worrying over me, she could focus on the impending detonation. If I’d had no confidence in her, I’d have kept running. About seventy feet is the usual evacuation distance for a low-level pipe bomb.

  No nails had come ripping out into the hall. The walls of my suite looked unstressed. I walked back to see what technique Imari had used to handle the blast. Zero-T had already run into the room. I guess he had it bad for Imari.

  I went in. One glance told me everything I needed to know. The cart, covered dishes, and silverware were hardened slag, wrapped in layers around the bomb. That was Imari’s work. She’d generated the necessary heat, and had absorbed it just as quickly to keep the rug from burning and setting off the fire alarms.

  Zero-T knelt by her, his green-glowing hands on the metal package. His specialty was earth magic which included metals as well as other earth elements. His power had reinforced the melted cart, adding enough strength to endure the blast.

  Demon Magic. Gotta love it.

  Imari looked up as I loomed over her. She said, “I told you I could handle this job.”

  I looked at Zero-T as I answered her. “You told me other stuff, too. Shall we go into that as well?”

  She looked at Zero-T. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  Zero-T looked at us both as he pulled his hands back. “What am I missing?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Stupidity is bliss.”

  They stood. Imari turned to me. “I’m bringing in the troops. Don’t try to stop me.”

  “Hell forbid. Do what you got to do. Speaking of necessary actions, Zero-T and I are going shopping for weaponry.”

  She nodded. “That is a hell of a good idea, but no anti-tank missiles, grenades, or flame throwers. I’ll handle that last.”

  “I’m free until tonight,” Zero-T said, “but I’ve got to be at the Arion Casino by eight for the first night of the poker tournament.”

  “Not a problem,” I said.

  Funny. With all the danger, he’s dropped the black-speak. I better get him back in character. It will have the added benefit of annoying Imari.

  I slapped Zero-T on the arm. “Yo, let’s go kick it, dawg.”

  He flicked a finger at the coffee carafe and me. “Which o’ you homies is riding shotgun?”

  “You’re driving?” I hadn’t known he’d driven into town. “Still got that ugly yellow pimpmobile?”

  His face pinched around the lips. He sniffed as if suddenly fighting back tears. “Nah, my baby bought it last month when I tangled with some were-ducks.”

  Imari stared. “Were-ducks?”

  “Mean bastards,” Zero-T said. “Pecked the hell out of my knees before I beat ‘em down with a steel trash can.”

  “They vandalized your car?” Imari said. “I’d have given them a beat down, too.”

  Zero-T’s face brightened as his mood pulled a U-turn. “Hey, mama, why don’t you come with us? You might find something you like.”

  “She can’t,” I said. “I have a mission for her.”

  She looked at me, smiling with gratitude. “You do?”

  “You’ve been tracking me by my phone, right?”

  She nodded. “Right.”

  “Yesterday, I was at Pancake Villa.”

  She frowned. “Yes, the tracker registered an anomaly. It said you leaped miles, were gone a while, and then it picked you up back at the restaurant. Some kind of glitch.”

  “No glitch,” I said. “A shadow portal opened. I went through to see who was behind these recent assassination attempts. The bad guys got away. I want you to go to that warehouse they were using. See who owns it. See if it was rented out and to whom. Take someone with you who can take a magical read on the place. I want to be able to trace the shadow ma
gic signature of the Villager I fought. Get me a magical charm of some kind so I can find this guy.”

  She stared into the distance, the wheels of her mind revving. “I’ll have to hire some local talent, but I was going to anyway to augment our security until our own people hit town.”

  Unfortunately, our clan house didn’t have its own portal. Those capable of making their own portals were otherwise occupied, or here already. So, since commercial portaling was expensive, so the remaining peons were flying here in coach.

  Zero-T was back to looking deflated. “Well, maybe some other time.” He flashed her a toothy smile. “We could do dinner.”

  His mood swings were making me dizzy. I diverted him. “So, what are you driving?”

  He turned his smile my way and dug out his wallet. He opened it and pulled out a picture. “Like, dig it, isn’t she darlin’?”

  I looked at the picture of a converted Eldorado Caddy, an ’86 two-door with a champagne paint job. He’d removed the top, making a convertible out of it, and had added tail fins.

  “Not too bad,” I said. “How many dead hookers can you get in the trunk?”

  Imari stared at me. “Dead hookers?”

  I explained. “That’s the standard by which all pimpmobiles are judged.”

  Zero-T leaned into her, whispering. “Don’t worry. No hooker could ever take your place in my heart.”

  Her fists ignited with flame. Before someone died, namely Zero-T, I grabbed his arm, guiding him toward the hallway door. “Let’s go.” Out in the hall, the carafe and I led the way to the elevator. He stood silent as I pushed the call button. Unfortunately, it didn’t last.

  He groaned from the depths of his soul. “She hates me, doesn’t she?”

  “I wouldn’t say hate. Despise maybe, but not hate.”

  “What am I doing wrong?”

  “Two things: you’re trying so hard you reek of desperation. That turns chicks off. They respond better when you ignore them, and they have to come after you. A confident man is a sexy man. Or demon. Second, you’re not being real. You’re a demon from some nameless hell-dimension. Try acting like it. Drop the Shaft routine.”