Demon Lord 5: Silver Crown King by Morgan Blayde Read Free Book Online Page B

something she can beat, all right.   I stashed the box in an inside coat pocket, and looked at Vivian.  “I assume lunch is ready.”
    “Lunch can go to hell in a picnic basket.  I want to know what’s going on between you two.”
    I shrugged.  “Nothing, anymore.”
    Her eyes warmed from black to an incandescent pink.  “Caine…” 
    It was amazing how much threat she could put in a single word.  I changed the subject.  “What are you doing with this old monstrosity?  You going to live here?”
    “While I fix it up.  I’ll sell it then and make a tidy profit.”
    “You’re flipping houses now?  That’s one way to recover from being kicked out of the Slayers.”
    Her eyes were edging now from pink to red.  “Thanks for the painful reminder.”
    I said, “We all have things we’d rather not talk about.”  I remembered the time I was doing a favor for a friend and got pulled over for speeding with a trunk full of dead hookers.
    The fire in her eyes cooled a little.  She frowned.  “Okay, point made.  I’ll mind my own business and you do the same.”
    “Except you really do want to tell me about this place.  Your first project, huh?” I said.  “Must be a thrill to restore the hidden beauty underneath.”
    She turned and started up the stairs.  “Like I said, lunch is ready.”
    “Wait,” I said.  “I brought you a present.  I reached into a coat pocket and pulled out a black opal ring, one of twelve I’d purchased in the Honduras.  The silver bands were attached to silver settings that protected the soft edges of the stones.  The opal’s face was mostly pitch black with gray, crimson, and blue-violet flakes in it.  A rune on the inside of the band made it fit whatever finger put it on.  She came back down the stairs and I handed her the ring.  “Wearing this shows you’re under my command, answering to me alone as a top lieutenant.  The ring has strong magic.  When you really need me, wherever you happen to be, I will know.  I will come.  Uh, an oath of fealty is required.”
    Her pink eyes edged into red, but she took the ring, a sign of her hidden insecurity.  “How many demons do you command?”
    “Somewhere around five-hundred, give or take a few dozen.  I haven’t counted lately.”
    “And they’ll take my orders?”
    “Long as I live, or until you piss me off and I take the ring back.”
    “The slayers never trusted me with more than field unit or two.”
    “They don’t know talent when they see it.”
    She slipped the ring on, and turned away.  I wasn’t sure, but I thought she was holding back a tear or two.  Maybe that was just wishful thinking.
    I followed her with Carson right behind.  The wooden stairs groaned with our weight.  I wanted to get out alive, so I made a mental note to keep an eye out for weak floorboards.  My sense of impending doom eased off when I saw the kitchen.  There was no refrigerator or dishwasher.  A microwave occupied the counter.  Several coolers were off to the side by a fireplace style oven.  There was a gap where a regular stove might have been, and a metal rack over it where pts and pans might once have dangled.  I saw food and paper plates on a picnic table.  There were benches, wrap-around shelves on two walls that were empty, and the floor was golden yellow stone tile that looked Italian.  The walls were white plaster, matching the color of the empty cabinets.  It all needed work, but I could see the potential.
    Vivian led us to the picnic table.  I looked down on what she called dinner.  Near her, sat a mug of blood.  Beside her was half a pastrami sandwich and a dill pickle.  Carson sat down and fell upon the left overs like a starved wolf.  Across from Vivian was my plate: a fried bologna, egg, and cheese sandwich.
    I stared at her.
    She stared back, reddening in the face.  “It’s the only thing I know how to fix.”
    Carson gawfed around a mouthful of sandwich, nodding.  He swallowed.