Red Moon Demon

The address was Mission Catholic Church, currently providing a food service for the homeless. The church felt weird, like the energy here was uncommitted, neither black or white. Just … pure energy, waiting on tap. Interesting.

I'd parked in the church's parking lot on the side. The stairs going up the outside of the building led to the second floor, and were very well crafted. The place was mostly handmade before machines were used in construction. The stone blocks had seen a lot of time go by.

Angie and I walked to the front, noticing the six bells were clearly handmade. They'd been hanging there longer then I'd been alive. The double wooden doors were hand carved. I may hate all religions, but I had to hand it to the Catholics; they know how to make beautiful places.

I sent Angie in by herself and waited at the doorway. I could see the priest at the end of the line giving a wafer to homeless people too embarrassed to come to regular services to get their fix of God. Lay people made up most of those helping. The homeless hanging out were of all ages and ethnic groups. Standing there, I took sips from my flask; nothing like rum to help you endure being where you don't want to be.

A little girl in pink leggings with a black, frilly layered skirt and pink tee walked up and looked me over. Her short hair was black as my own. I stared into her innocent eyes, and did not shield her from the darkness inside me.

She smiled.

I let the door close between us and went back around the corner to the stairs. Most likely, Angie would ask around and make me wait, and wait… I sat down.

The little girl appeared, having followed me. Her clothes were worn and faded with age, obvious hand me downs from somebody. Her hair needed to be washed along with her face, and she was downright starved looking. Still, she smiled, offering me a wafer.

I took it and absently thumbed its edge. It would be pretty hard to kill someone with this. Probably wouldn't even fly straight. I liked shurikens better.

She sat next to me.

I said, "Little girl, you should not be so trusting to people you don't know." I looked around to make sure no one was looking and smiled back. "Where are your parents?"

She nodded at the church, and stopped smiling. "Mom tries hard, but we're not like others."

Now that she spoke, I heard something special in her voice, the inflections of Old Tongue. She was ninth or tenth generation dragon. I been around Red Fang, my tattoo guy, long enough to know what dragon tongue sounds like.

I used the Old Tongue myself, "Is that so?"

She looked surprised that I knew what she was.

A lady hurried around the corner looking panicky till she saw the little girl. The woman ran up to us and went to grab the girl, but froze in fear as our eyes locked.

"You're her mother?" I asked.

The woman nodded yes, barely daring to breathe. Her glance slid to her daughter.

"She's not afraid of me," I said.

"I'm sorry, Sir, if you've been bothered," the lady said.

"Don't be. She has guts. That's a good thing. Tell me what you're doing here?" Using my Dragon's Roar tat, I put just a little power in my words, feeling a burn between my shoulder blades as if a hot poker were pressing in.

"We just came to get some food, Sir."

"No, why are you on the street when your daughter has dragon blood in her?"

"Her father's dead. He owed a lot of money to the wrong people. I have no family, and didn't know his." She used simple words, making sure I got the point without taking to long. This woman had been around people with power and had paid for it. That was clear. She smelled human. I think she feared the dragons might take her child away if she went to them for help. Such things had happened.

I looked around to make sure no one was watching, and that Angie was still inside the church since I didn't want any whiteness for this. "Here." I pulling out all the money I had on me, a little over two thousand dollars, and I grabbed a card from an inner pocket of my long coat. "Go to this place. Ask to be taken to Red Fang. Tell him your story and make sure your daughter speaks to him, but first get both of you some new clothes."

Her teary eyes on the crisp bills I offered, the woman took my gift in trembling hands. The little girl stood up and took hold of her mother's ratty coat. The child leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Her eyes changed to those of a dragon; elongated black-diamonds pupils on oversized swamp-green irises, leaving no visible whites. A second lid slid out from under her outer eyelid, coving her eyes with a transparent film normally reserved for swimming under water. She gave me a fearless stare, embedding my face in her memory.

"Don't think I care for either of you," I said.

The mom drew away, smiling, pulling her child along. "Oh no, of course not, that would be absurd." She put the money away, and read the card, twice, pausing in her departure. "Would you happen to be a—"

"If you ever abandon the kid, or tell anyone about this, well—it won't be pretty."

The little girl's smile returned. "Come see us one day. You can wave from a across the street."

They left, turning a corner in many ways. Good deed of the day; did not kill someone who was not afraid of me. Future bad deed of the day; piss in the holy water. Have to keep the balance.

I was idly tracing my left arm's tattoos with a finger when Angie came out. I stood up and walked over to her. "Any luck" I asked.

"She was here, I can still smell her scent, but with so many unwashed people it's hard to pinpoint her," Angie said.

A piercing scream sounded from the near distance. The shrillness and pitch indicated someone very young. The little dragon-half girl…

I shoved past Angie, running flat out, and whipped around the corner to the front of the building. The scream came again, from a knot of fifteen or so vagrants on the next corner of the church. Bouncing and rebounding, they appeared to be slam dancing without a mosh pit. Faces slack, emotionless—this looked the s.u.c.c.u.b.u.s at work once more.

The girl was alone, sitting on the ground, holding a skinned arm. I think she'd gotten a little too close to the action. Hearing my steps, she turned to me with an infinity of pain pooling in eyes that were human. The rest of her face had shifted, acquiring scales and a faint greenish tinge. Her lower face had lengthened. With her mouth open in horror, I saw multiple rows of sharp dragon teeth. Her voice broke with a sob as she turned back to face the stomping mob of meat puppets. She pointed. "Momma's in there."

A twist of molten agony shot through my head as I warmed the tat on my collarbone, invoking Dragon Roar. "Stop!"

The word rolled like thunder, hammering at the crowd, but lost force way too quickly as the crowd ignored the command, really pissing me off. The s.u.c.c.u.b.u.s was strong. I'd have gone to Dragon Flame next but I sensed a dulling in the air; something was draining magic, feeding on it. This wasn't a normal s.u.c.c.u.b.u.s trick.

"No choice then."

I drew my PPKs and started snapping off head shots down the middle of the crowd. I took time to also shoot right and left as I went in. I didn't want my line of retreat compromised. I emptied my clips and replaced them, shoving a last couple derelicts out of my way. They fell like puppets with cut strings, no longer needed, their work done. I holstered my weapon, looking down at what was left of the girl's mother. Broken splinters of bone protruded from skin. Her face was swollen, mangled. Her hair was matted from where her blood had pooled on the ground.

She'd been stomped to death.

Careful of my expensive shoes, I didn't get too close.

The little girl streaked past me and threw herself on the body. "Momma, momma, wake up!" I think she knew death when she saw it, but hope dies hard in the young. The girl fell silent except for the sound of sobbing.

This attack made no sense. The mother was human, no body important. A warning to me? Maybe. The s.u.c.c.u.b.u.s could have somehow seen me with them earlier and assumed they were important to me. I had given them two thousand dollars.

What they say is true. No good deed ever goes unpunished.

Angie appeared.

"What took you so long?" I asked.

"I was searching the area, trying to find the one controlling the men."

"Any luck?"

"No. Some kind of stupid magic was killing scents again."

The sun was setting. Darkness was creeping in incrementally. The few people in the area, not inside the church getting a free dinner, made a point of looking away and scurrying off. Dead bodies will do that.

"There's two thousand dollars of mine on the body. Grab it, get the girl, and let's go." Another thought occurred to me. "There's a blanket in the truck that will keep the blood on her from staining my upholstery."

The girl moved like someone in a dream as Angie shepherded her along.

An old bag lady came out of the church and stumbled past me.

One of my protective tats warmed on its own. I felt my heart clench in pain to pay the cost. The sensation staggered me a second while my body tensed, getting ready to take a punch. I stepped left, dodging the old lady's knife trust at my heart, and grabbed her arm. I was about to break it, and stab her with her own knife, but Angie shoved the old lady out of reach, letting her keep her weapon.

The bag lady dropped her glamour, showing me a teenage girl that looked oddly familiar. If only I paid more attention to women's faces… The plain, steel blade in her hand changed to a rippled dagger—a stylized sunbeam—with a dark purple-green liquid dripping off the edge. The liquid smelled bitter. Sarah shot around Angie and tried to stab me again. Angie could have stopped her but was busy wringing her hands.

I stepped to the right, and lifted Sarah off her feet with a knee to the gut, letting her drop like a brick. I danced away, glaring at Angie. "Last chance, get the little bitch under control, or I will."

Sarah scrambled up to attack me again.

Angie pleaded, "Sarah, please, let's talk about this, huh?"

I saw a gold necklace around Sarah's throat. It was ancient, reeking of dark magic. I'd seen something like I recently. The woman in the red hat back at the hotel, the one I'd thought might be the s.u.c.c.u.b.u.s. It was her! The small red jewels in the center of her necklace spun against each other like gears. The evolving design changed the texture of her magic, its very scent. Demon magic? Fey? I wasn't sure. I needed to take a closer look.

She lunged at me, one slash, two…

I gestured with an extended palm. My whole body shuddered, lightning felt like it was roasting my liver as the necklace tattoo along the top of my collarbone came to life. This was the Dragon's Roar; I was done playing.

Angie stepped between us, offering me a growl, like I was the one needing to behave. I shouldn't have been surprised. Sarah was William's blood. William ruled the pack. Angie was pack. She had no choice, but to side with Sarah.

Unfortunately for Angie, I'd already paid for my magic and couldn't call it off. A series of concussive waves materialized in the air and engulfed Angie. She was picked up off her feet and slammed backward by a boom of thunder.

I winced, pretending sympathy.

Both girls went down in a tangled sprawl, landing at the dragon girl's feet. She stared down at them, expressionless, numb, waiting for someone to tell her to do something.

Angie had taken the brunt in human form, not as a werewolf, but was still tough enough to survive. Sarah struggled to her feet, half dazed. I was glad. I needed her alive.

Her necklace clicked into a new combination, changing into a ziggurat shape. A shimmer of light danced around her, and the damage she'd taken sloughed off. She looked fresh enough for a beauty pageant, and still determined to kill me.

I waited until the last second to dodge a knife trust and ran afoul of Angie who scrambled low to the ground, wrapping her arms around my leg, locking on with her blunt human teeth. In the split-second of distraction, Sarah cut across the tats on my forearm. All my limbs felt leaden. My balance went off keel, as my vision blurred. Angie let me go, staring up at me, her face a pale blob.

What … the hell … is going on? My protective spell… didn't … do a thing.

"She cut you," Angie said.

"Tell me about it." I dropped to one knee, feeling blood warming my skin. I tried to focus on Sarah, but her necklace continued changing, clawing at my mystic senses. My arm hurt, sending tremors of agony up my arm, to my c.h.e.s.t and eyes. They burned.

I blinked.

Sarah was gone. That damn teleporting spell of hers.

Angie climbed to her feet. "Where did she go?"

I gritted my teeth, and got up despite the feeling that my joints were melting like candle wax. I strained for any sign of Sarah's curious dark magic. Nothing. The necklace blocked me. Still, if I got out into the street fast enough to spot her... No good. I couldn't stay on my feet. I sagged back to my knees.

Looking at my forearm, I tried to activate a healing tat. Whatever had been on Sarah's blade was in my wound, breaking my focus, sapping my force of will. My tats stayed dormant. The poison wasn't letting me heal.

Angie's voice sounded distant, as if shouted down a long tunnel. Her tone was fuzzy with urgency. "Caine, Caine? Can hear me?"

I don't remember moving, but sky suddenly stretched over me. I lay on my back with Angie kneeling next to me. The girl came over as well. The same shocked, expression haunted her face as when she clung to her mom. Her voice came out in a whisper. "Don't you leave me, too."

My arm felt like it a piece of meat on a spit. Beads of sweet trickled down my face. My c.h.e.s.t ached as if I'd spent a lifetime screaming.

Angie said, "Caine, your arm looks bluish-black. It's swelling and starting to smell like spoiled meat. You need a hospital."

"No, take me home," I said.

"But Caine—"

Darkness was swamping my mind. I was losing consciousness. I knew I only had time for a single threat. I made it a good one. "Fail me in this, and Lauphram will destroy your entire pack."

I opened my eyes. Angie had put me in the passenger seat of my car. She was trying to start my car and failing. This had her yelling at my baby. I reached out and hit the voice input. "Voice command," I said. "Override sensors, engine start, GS function, drive home."

The engine started. The inside of the windshield displayed a GPS map showing the way home. The image blurred. My eyes were getting worse. I felt ice and fire as my magic level fluctuated wildly.

Angie sent my vehicle surging out into the street. "I love this car!"

The street lights we're overly bright, making it hard to keep my eyes open. I swam in and out of consciousness. I roused at one point to her the little girl muttering a sort of mantra, "Don't die, don't die, don't…" Reaching around the seat, her small hand tightly gripped my coat. Dragon girl seemed to think I'd live as long as her hand was there. I didn't move it off my expensive coat in case she was right.

My phone rang, sharpening my focus at one point. I tried to pull it out, but my arms were useless. Angie reached over and pried my phone from my pants, tearing the pocket in her haste.

She said something, but I couldn't hear what. I watched her anxious face, as I passed out. Again.

When I reawakened, my eyes wouldn't open. I felt my magic, like the coils of a python winding around me. My skin felt flayed where my tats had been inked.

I heard Angie talking. The car was still moving so she must have been on the phone. "Caine got cut by Sarah. No, he's not healing.

His arm looks terrible. One of his tattoos is cut in half, but it's not deep. The wound smells like poison. GPS says ten minutes. Okay…" Angie sounded scared. It must have been her Alpha or Old Man on the phone. I really hoped it was not Old Man. He'd be pissed at me for really screwing things up.

We stopped and I was pulled out of the seat. Her face intense and grave, the little girl climbed out of the back, and watched Angie swing me toward the house. Being a werewolf, she was strong enough not to break a sweat carrying me down the walk and up onto the porch. She kicked in the door.

A jar went through me, kicking up the ache in my skull by several magnitudes. That woke me up even more. "Hey," I said, "what did my house do to you?" No one came running to see what had happened, so I guessed Leona out was with Old Man. I didn't have time to wait for them. "To my bedroom."

"You just don't give up, do you?" Angie said.

She carried me there and was about to put me on the bed.

"Wait, take me to the mirror," I said.

"Trust me; you don't want to see how you look"

"Just do it"

"Last request?" She said, "Sure."

She was right; I didn't like seeing myself. My arm was oozing pus, swollen with poison. My magic shimmered red and violet, sizzling over my skin, coming out of every part of me. One of my eyes was that of a dragon, my nails were black and long. This was bad; the dragon magic of the tats was straight out-of-control. I'd never felt this happen before. What the hell was that poison?

Never mind. Focus.

I put my hand on the mirror's frame, having her move me left and right. The mirror gate opened. "Just step in," I said.

"Yeah, I don't think so. That smells like demon," Angie said.

"I got cut because you got in the way." I looked at Angie and pointed at the mirror.

She growled. "Fine."

The code I inputted wasn't to another mirror, but to a point in space I frequently visited. Angie and I came out in front of Red Fang's Tattoo Shop in the demon Underground. The little girl came along, having a death-grip on the tail of my coat. The gray stone storefronts had neon signs over the doors. The red, green, and violet-black lights made sigils of the shop names in twenty languages that were far older that anything human.

I used the last of my strength pointing. "That door … there!"