Demon Lord 3: Blue Star Priestess Read Free Page A

Deathwalker

    Smelling even more like the dead giant, I drove my ‘96 Mustang home. The car wasn’t new, but possessed a hundred grand worth of high-tech gear under the hood and fifty grand in detailing to make one hell of a ride. Magic augmented the tech to enhance performance. I cruised through Malibu, up to my seaside mansion, and pulled into the garage, parking between my ‘65 Mustang—a work in progress—and the limo Osamu, my combat butler, drove. Before getting out, I transferred the mountain giant’s scroll to the satchel, putting it with the Atlantean document. Two mysteries to solve. I left the vehicle, slamming the door behind me.
    Before the garage door closed, Osamu opened the inner door to the house, waiting on the threshold with a tall, cold drink on a silver tray for me. The drink was electric blue with no umbrella. “Caine-sama, I hope all went well.”
    I crossed to him, hand extended to take the drink. “I earned the bonus. Was it dropped off?”
    “Yes, Caine-sama, it’s in the office.”
    I grabbed the drink and handed Osamu the satchel. As I let go, he almost let it hit the ground. Bent over, his grunt of surprise reminded me I’d gotten much stronger and should be more careful with others. He recovered his composure—and upright posture—and carried the satchel into the kitchen with a strained smile. “Heavy,” he grunted.
    I kept the white scroll with me as well as the one I’d taken off the giant’s body. I wanted to find out what the Atlantean seal meant. Yeah, my contract was over, the giant was dead, but whoever hit me with that last nasty piece of magic was still around, a likely threat. Maybe someone would pop up, willing to pay me to kill my mystery assailant. If so, it would be good to have a heads-up on what I’d be fighting and how much I should charge.
    Having stashed the satchel, Osamu caught up to me. “Caine-sama, your father is also in the office.”
    “Got it, thanks.”
    During the Night of the Red Moon last year, Osamu had proved himself a true warrior, but would have died had I not saved him. Impressed with his composure under attack, I ended up stealing him from his last employer when the dust settled. I was increasingly glad I had; he wasn’t just a kick-ass, demon-sword wielding combat butler, he was one hell of a major domo, too.
    I went to my room to get cleaned up. I’d probably have to burn the clothes I was wearing. It often sucked that my sense of smell had evolved since my dragon-half awoke. I went through the kitchen into the corner of the living room that opened into the back hallway. I went down the hall toward my room near the end. The actual end of the hall used to be a dead end. Now a magical door was there. Only I was supposed to be able to open it. The door didn’t lead to the backyard, or anywhere on the property. This was my personal access to the kingdom I’d claimed in the land of Fairy.
    I stopped short of the magical door, turning into my room. It was just as I’d left it. None of my girlfriends had been over to pick up the place, snoop around, or ambush me for sex. That last was disappointing. I could also have used someone to wash my back. I passed the bed, catching a brief glimpse of myself in a full-length mirror: I was small for a human-dragon mix, an easy, disarming grin in place. My mirror–self looked young, early twenties, but I was actually thirty-one. My body had simply stopped aging on e day thanks to my mother’s dragon blood in me. Really, a lot of the clues to what I was had been staring me in the face for years. I couldn’t understand why it had taken me so long to piece things together.
    I shed my weapons on the bed, knowing I’d have to clean the leather holsters and weapons before putting them on again. That was all right. I had some new toys I wanted to break in anyway. In the master bath, I stripped out of my battle damaged clothes and left them piled on the tiles.
    While the dwarf workmen had been installing my