Demon Walking (Dragon Point Book 6) Read online

  Demon Walking

  Dragon Point Six

  Eve Langlais

  Contents

  Introduction

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Also by Eve Langlais

  Copyright © October 2017, Eve Langlais

  Cover Art by Yocla Designs © June 2017

  Produced in Canada

  Published by Eve Langlais

  http://www.EveLanglais.com

  eBook-ISBN: 978 1988 328 980

  Print-ISBN: 978 1988 328 99 7

  All Rights Reserved

  Demon Walking is a work of fiction and the characters, events and dialogue found within the story are of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is completely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email and printing without permission in writing from the author.

  Introduction

  Now that’s he’s escaped his prison, he’s going to make the dragons pay for what they did.

  Eons ago, humanity punished Luc’s people by banishing them to another realm. The demons adapted to their new world, changed their violent ways, and ditched their monstrous alter egos. They lived in peace and prosperity until the dragon mages joined them in exile—and killed them to survive.

  Now, there is only one demon left, and he’s ready for revenge.

  Luc’s plans to rule the world don’t bother Elspeth in the least. A man should have a goal in life. As for his perpetual frown, she’s determined to turn it upside down.

  All he needs is a great big hug, and if she’s lucky, he won’t break like the other boys do. He might even be strong enough to handle her in bed.

  But first, she has to convince her king not to lynch him because, apparently, someone’s been sucking the souls of dragons. If they’re right, and Luc is to blame, then she might be next.

  Prologue

  What a lovely day to get rid of a body.

  The countryside proved lush, the foliage the bright green of spring, the breeze carrying a hint of the summer warmth to come. One could almost ignore the smell of decay, the kind that reeked of meat left out too long.

  His fault. He’d been delayed. Now, he paid for it, the rancid smell wafting free from the bedspread he’d wrapped the corpse in. The quicker he buried the body, the better. He just had to find a fresh spot. Harder than it sounded since he’d already entombed a few.

  Humans were plentiful in these parts, although they did make noisy meals unless properly subdued.

  He should also make mention that humans didn’t make for the tastiest of treats, but they did curb his gnawing hunger. Only for a short while, though. What he really craved? The delicacy that made him salivate? Dragon.

  One full-grown dragon could sustain him for much longer than a few days. It tickled his taste buds and left him feeling satisfied and euphoric. Alas, they were hard to find, not to mention that he couldn’t eat too many at once or the dragons would notice and take offense. Spoilsports.

  Knowing they’d crucify him if they caught on meant he had to be careful about his meals. Getting discovered at this point wouldn’t do at all. He needed to build his strength if he wanted to eventually rule this world. After all, he’d not escaped Hell to sink into obscurity.

  On the contrary, now that he had a new lease on life, he had plans. Lofty goals for this new world that was ripe for the taking.

  Another ripe thing? The body. Something wicked this way oozed.

  His nose wrinkled. Time to bury it. He made quick work of the soil, creating a hole big enough to hide the body.

  There was nothing to be done about the scar of dirt that showed against the lush greenery all around. Good thing no one inhabited this part of the land. Before long, the mark of his passing would be overgrown.

  Task done, he closed his eyes and inhaled. A nice, deep breath. After the staleness of hell, the fresh air of earth proved so sweet.

  Almost as sweet as the woman he met in a tavern a few days later when the hunger gnawed him again.

  Petite and human, she batted her lashes as she clung to his arm, the fumes of the alcohol she’d imbibed emanating with every word.

  Exiting the vehicle that he’d learned to drive—though not without mishap—she’d gaped with proper appreciation at the home he’d appropriated.

  “Wow, what a big castle you have.”

  Not technically his, but the former owner couldn’t exactly complain about his confiscation of it. It took only a few hours of intimidation and torture to convince the blubbering mess to give him access to anything he wanted. In return, he’d promised not to eat the owner of the castle. Once he had everything he needed, he’d kept his word and killed the man, but didn’t take one bite.

  Why ruin his palate with an old, balding man when he could dine on sweet, young flesh? Not to mention that he enjoyed throwing a bit of sex into the mix—another thing he’d missed while in that hellhole.

  Nothing better than the feel of nails raking down his back, a soft, feminine voice urging him to go, “faster.” The slap of flesh as he sank balls-deep, and then, in the moment of climax…he struck. Much like a vampire, he bit hard enough to break skin, and as the coppery blood spilled into his mouth, he called on his magic. Spoke the guttural enchantment that allowed him to take nourishment from the blood.

  His siphoning of her life force started out pleasurable. She moaned as her body writhed. As the climax hit, the muscles of her sex clenched tightly. But as he sucked at her life essence, ingesting every last delicious drop, she began to panic. Shoved at him. Thrashed. They never seemed to grasp that by then, it was too late.

  In her final moment, her mouth opened wide in a silent scream, and her eyes gazed at him in horror. Only then did he come.

  “Fuck it’s good to be alive,” he yelled as he spurted hotly into her still twitching body.

  Done, he rolled off the gray and already cooling woman. Her youth and beauty gone, along with her life.

  He uttered a satisfied sigh before reaching for a cigarette, his hunger sated for a few more days.

  There was another body to bury, but he didn’t mind. He was free. Powerful. And best of all, alive.

  Chapter One

  “What a wonderful day to be alive!” Elspeth exclaimed as she twirled in the fresh air, arms spread wide.

  Someone groaned. “You do realize it’s gray and soggy.”

  “Nothing wrong with gray. My grandma has gray hair, and she’s awesome!” She was also quick with the wooden spoon, which led to Elspeth being light on her feet.

  Babette peered one-eyed, much like a pirate, at the overcast, dripping sky. “I spent an hour straightening my hair, and now because you insisted on having that cab drop us a mile from the house, it’s ruined.”

  “Exercise does the body good.”

  “That’s an infomercial slogan, and again, since you se
em to not realize it, it’s raining!” Babette shook her fist at the dark clouds.

  “Isn’t it glorious?” Elspeth held out her hands to feel the sprinkling raindrops, the moisture a balm to the skin. “I love the rain. It’s nature’s way of nourishing the soil, which, in turn, allows life to flourish and bloom. April showers bring May flowers,” she sang.

  “Gag me with a spoon.”

  “Why dirty a spoon when you can just shove your fingers down your throat? Do you need help? You can borrow mine. They’re long.” She did so love to offer aid to her friends. Not that Babette considered herself Elspeth’s best friend yet. She was shy that way, claiming she didn’t need one.

  However, Elspeth knew better. Now that Deka had gone off with that handsome beau of hers, Babette needed someone to take her spot—and Elspeth was determined to be that girl! Especially since her last best friend ran away.

  That was the last time she listened to her mother when she said “if you love something set it free.” Her friend took flight and left Elspeth with an opening.

  Babette slapped down Elspeth’s hand. “I don’t need your help to throw up. Just keep talking, that will do the trick.”

  “I’m a little concerned about your obsession with vomiting. I do hope this isn’t a cry for help. Bulimia is a very severe illness.”

  “I am not bulimic.”

  “That’s the spirit.” But Elspeth made a note to keep a close eye on Babette just in case. Arranging an intervention was exactly the kind of thing a good friend did. In the meantime, someone needed to know she was loved just the way she was.

  “Put me the fuck down!” squealed her almost-best friend.

  At a touch over six feet, Elspeth knew how to give the best hugs, the kind that lifted a person off the ground and made them feel special. Ignoring the false protests, she squeezed Babette—who didn’t even reach her chin—tightly.

  Crack. Something in Babette’s spine adjusted, and not for the first time, Elspeth wondered if perhaps her talents were wasted.

  I should be a doctor!

  She’d tried to apply at the local clinic. They’d declined, citing some need for an actual medical degree. Crazy talk. Who needed certification in chiropractic medicine when it came naturally via Elspeth’s super-duper therapeutic hugs?

  “Would you stop it already,” Babette said, pretending to sound grumpy. Elspeth knew it was just a sham because, hello, everyone loved a hug. “We’re gonna be late for the meeting with our king.”

  How responsible of her new best friend to remind her. “Late for a very important date! We can’t have that. Fear not, my short-legged bestie. I’ll get us there on time.” Tossing Babette over her shoulder, Elspeth ran for the large house, a mansion by most standards, but to dragons, it was just a house—with a few dozen bedrooms and a ballroom fit for royalty. Human royalty, to be specific.

  Dragons preferred to party in the open air when possible, where they could spread their wings and fly. There was nothing like feeling the air currents under a dragon’s wings.

  Elspeth had been doing a lot more flying lately now that the world—AKA the humans—knew of their existence. It had become hard to deny with social media having caught them several times now. The oft-repeated excuse of “fake news!” no longer worked. Especially after a dragon in France went on a talk show and demonstrated live for an audience. Was offered a book deal right after. Only, that dragon disappeared.

  The Fleur de Lys Sept—which eschewed a color because they prided themselves on their diversity—claimed they’d placed the dragon in protective custody since the world knew her face.

  How kind of them, especially since the North American Septs told their members that they’d be skinned alive if they pulled a stunt like that.

  Elspeth had no interest in talking to the media; however, she didn’t mind the world knowing about their existence.

  Sure, some of her kind grumbled about knights coming out of the woodwork to slay them, and the internet ruminated about dragon hoards—and there seemed to be an inordinately high number of ladies claiming to be virgins on dating sites—but personally, Elspeth thought everyone was happy to discover their existence.

  Why, just the other day, she’d made some children extra happy by taking them for a ride in the sky. Their mother, obviously upset that she was too heavy to join them, had screamed and sobbed on the ground the entire time.

  When Elspeth landed and returned her brood, she’d patted the mother on the head and trilled, “You’re welcome.” The woman peed herself in excitement.

  It felt good to give back to society.

  Entering the house via a door that opened just in time—unlike the last time when she’d crashed into it—she remembered to kick off her shoes. Cleanliness was only part of the reason.

  With Babette firmly situated on her shoulder, Elspeth dashed down the hall of the house, the marble floors—streaked with gold and polished to a high gleam—slippery. Once she’d gained enough speed, she slid, her momentum carrying her.

  “Whee!” she squealed. Babette groaned. Probably because she was upset that she’d forgotten to wear socks and couldn’t glide, too.

  Elspeth really should keep some tucked on her person for the next time, so her bestie could join her in the fun.

  She executed a turn to brake by the double doors leading into the king’s office—formerly the Silver Sept’s formal library. Rather than take over the Silvergrace matriarch’s office, the king had opted for a grander space with books. Elspeth assumed the king had chosen it because he was so smart. However, others claimed it was because he liked the easy access to the garden, where he could escape.

  Which was also really smart. Despite the fact that their Golden king had mated, some of the more eager mamas with marriageable daughters were still trying to change his mind.

  Luckily for Elspeth, her mother had stopped trying to play matchmaker, especially after what had happened in Hawaii. Apparently, Akamu—her suitor—still wouldn’t go anywhere near the ocean.

  “Put me down,” Babette demanded, giving a little wiggle.

  Elspeth neatly flipped Babette onto her feet and exclaimed, “We’re here. And on time. You’re so very welcome.”

  Her bestie peered at her via a squinted eye. Did she need glasses? A monocle would be cooler.

  “Don’t you dare lay hands on me again,” Babette grumbled.

  Elspeth didn’t take offense. Poor Babette did her best to hide how she suffered after Elspeth’s gentle letdown where she’d explained to a gaping Babette that she preferred boys. But Elspeth had thought it better to tell Babette upfront than lead her on.

  “Sorry for not taking into account your unrequited lust for me. It won’t be long before you meet someone you can lavish your desires on.”

  “I desire to throttle you.”

  “Have you been exercising with those hand grips I gave you? I think we both remember how well it worked last time.” Playful Babette had pounced on Elspeth and held on tightly to her throat, yelling, “Fall, damn you!”

  Instead, Elspeth giggled and sent a wiggling Babette flying.

  “One day, a piano will fall on your head, pushed out of a window, by me.”

  “Just like a cartoon!” Elspeth clapped her hands. “I can’t wait.” Another person who shouldn’t wait? The king.

  It wouldn’t do to be late by standing around outside his office. Elspeth raised her fist and solidly rapped on the door. Taking a step back, she stood patiently in front of it, minding her manners.

  “How are we supposed to surprise people in flagrante delicto if we give them warning we’re coming in?”

  Her bestie had so much to learn when it came to caring about others and good manners. Good thing Elspeth didn’t mind teaching her.

  “It’s rude to just enter.”

  “Says you. I say, out of my way.” Babette shifted left, and Elspeth leaned to block. A quick dash right saw Babette bouncing off her arm.

  Hands planted on her hips, Babette blew a hunk
of hair out of her face and huffed, “Let me pass.”

  Elspeth shook her head. “We have to wait.”

  “Wait for what? We’re expected.”

  “Manners, my dear friend. They’re for everyone. Did you know, if everyone used their manners, crime would drop sixty-five percent per day?”

  “What about the other thirty-five percent?”

  “They’re murdering psychopaths who weren’t hugged enough as children.” At least according to a blog Elspeth subscribed to. The narrator wasn’t a true doctor or scientist or anyone with a degree for that matter. But he had started the online group dedicated to the use of hugs to prevent the apocalypse.

  Someone shouted, “Come in.”

  “About time,” muttered Babette.

  As Elspeth politely opened and held the door for her bestie, Babette swept past, her petite frame wearing a pink velvet jumpsuit with Hottie printed across the butt.

  Elspeth tended to wear more practical items, given she had a thirty-six-inch inseam. Custom-made slacks and denim comprised her daily wear for the most part. However, she did have a fetish for Rockabilly-style dresses in vivid colors with skirts that flared. And bright red lipstick.

  Today, she wore a shade with a name that almost made her blush, but she loved it—Crimson Blowjob. Mother would have a fit if she knew, whereas Elspeth got a thrill each time she rubbed her lips together.

  Now if only she had a man in her life to apply that lipstick to. Alas, a tall woman was intimidating to a lot of men—even a dragon one. Most couldn’t handle her zest for life.