Demon Walking (Dragon Point Book 6) Read online

  But one day, my dragon prince will come. Yes, dragon, because the police said if she accidentally put one more guy in the hospital with broken bones, they’d investigate her for assault. As if she were to blame for their poor calcium intake growing up.

  Now, if only she could find him. She’d seen his face in her dreams, but he’d proven elusive.

  Babette didn’t pay any mind to the office they entered. Probably because, much like in school, her bestie was used to being sent to the office, whereas Elspeth never got called in.

  Everyone should be a teacher’s pet. It came with so many perks. And it made her classmates so jealous. She could still hear their chanting—“Brown nose. Ass kisser”—as they tried to overcome their disappointment that they weren’t the coveted student.

  Given Elspeth rarely got called in front of important people, she looked around with curiosity at the large space. It truly was a library, the kind she loved, with towering bookcases that spanned a few levels and a ceiling that stretched high above. The shelves covered the entire width and height of the walls and were equipped with silver rails upon which hung wooden ladders.

  Wouldn’t it be fun if someone threw on some kind of lighthearted musical song and she had to scamper up those ladders then swing across, singing as she looked for books?

  It had worked well for the princess in that movie, and in the end, she’d gotten the beast. Who’d proven more handsome when hairy than shaven.

  Alas, the few knickknacks in the room didn’t animate to form an orchestra, which meant that Elspeth could only stare longingly at the shelves, crammed with tomes of all kinds. Leather-bound and dusty, the silver leaf on the spines faint. The more recent books displayed the advances in printing technology with cardboard spines.

  According to Babette, the shelf of romances no longer held a place of pride since the king wasn’t a fan. He’d opted to replace them with rolled-up scrolls from ancient times.

  A smart guy no matter what the others said. Nothing wrong with being a meticulous geek. Yet Elspeth knew of the grumblings. The treacherous words. “When will he take us to war?”

  The dragon Septs didn’t seem to realize that Remiel wanted peace, not battle. From all accounts, he shared some of Elspeth’s philosophies—without the hugging.

  Pity he was taken. Even whilst sitting behind his desk, he presented the image of the type of man who would attract a nubile dragoness.

  Big and broad-shouldered, his short hair a pure gold tone, his eyes shone brightly as he perused them.

  Having practiced for this moment, Elspeth dropped into a deep curtsy, miming holding a skirt despite her pants. “Oh, glorious king, I am so honored to have been called into your esteemed presence that I might serve you in any which way you need.”

  Babette, overcome with the regal presence of their newly anointed king, made a retching sound. Poor thing. Her nerves must be bothering her again.

  “Rise, um, Elsie, right?”

  “If my king decrees it, then so shall it be.” Elspeth beamed. Such an honor to already have a nickname with the king.

  “And I see you brought Babette.”

  “Yo.” Her almost-best friend saluted him with two fingers.

  The king slammed shut the lid of his laptop. “Thank you for coming. Have a seat.”

  Choosing the left seat, Elspeth perched with her knees tightly pressed together, her back ramrod straight, and her hands demurely folded in her lap. Whereas Babette flopped onto the chair alongside her, one leg hanging over the armrest, and snapped a piece of gum before saying, “What’s up, Remy?”

  Shocked, Elspeth leaned over and whispered, “That’s our king.”

  “And?” replied the woman who was blowing bubbles and then popping them with a loud crack.

  “We should address him as ‘your highness’ or ‘your majesty.’”

  The king cleared his throat. “Um, that’s not necessary. Remy is fine.”

  Elspeth almost fainted with the honor. The king had given her permission to address him by his first name—and a shortened version at that. This would go in her scrapbook as the bestest day ever, supplanting this morning’s bestest moment when her mother had surprised her with bacon and a message to, “Get your ass to the big house. They need volunteers for a mission.”

  How exciting! Given it would be a great honor to serve, of course she’d dragged Babette along. Although she’d had to fib a little, teeny-tiny bit to get her bestie to come, replacing the word volunteer with chosen.

  “Why are we here? Elsie, over there,”—Babette jerked a thumb, quickly adopting the king’s new name for her—“said you wanted to see me.”

  “I was looking for volunteers—”

  “You mean this is optional?” Babette straightened. “Then I am out of here.” Her best friend—because, obviously, only a BFF would call her by her new nickname—made to rise, only to stop as Remy—giggle—spoke.

  “Yes, optional because I only want volunteers who aren’t deterred by danger.”

  “Danger?” Babette plopped down and leaned forward. “Exactly what kind of danger?”

  Did it matter? Elspeth clapped her hands. “We accept.”

  “Slow down, Elsie. We don’t even know what he wants yet,” Babette interjected. “Or how much it pays. We are being paid, right?”

  The king gave a solemn nod. “Of course. A flat stipend per day plus expenses. A bonus if you save the realm from grave danger as per”—he shuffled some papers on his desk and held up a thick sheaf—“section nine A of the forty-fifth article on subjects participating in an investigative capacity for the crown.”

  Fancy mumbo-jumbo talk for getting paid to go on an adventure. The dragons hadn’t survived this long without a proper king by chance. They had a charter of rights and rules—so many, many rules—that outlined all kinds of behavior.

  Most Septs tended to pick and choose which they followed; however, Remiel and his newly formed leadership had opted to use them as a baseline for drawing the Septs together for the greater good and protection of dragons.

  “If we’re getting paid, then I’m in,” Babette declared before Elspeth could get over her excitement at the fact that she was going on another mission.

  She’d thought it exciting when she got sent to the secret lair of the king’s brother, Samael, and then got invited to fight in the great battle against the dragon mage, Voadicia. Front-line spot! Apparently, she’d acquitted herself well because here she was, about to embark on her second dangerous mission.

  “Count me in, too!” Elspeth exclaimed.

  The king blinked. Probably in pride at their willingness to serve the crown. “Aren’t you going to wait to hear what the mission entails before accepting?”

  “Considering I need a whole new wardrobe”— because poor Babette had lost her appetite and weight when she found out the woman she’d fallen in love with was actually a homicidal dragon mage from another dimension using her to get information and rule the world—“I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”

  “And where my best friend goes, I go,” Elspeth declared.

  “We’re not best friends,” Babette growled.

  “Yet,” Elspeth sang. But in her heart, she knew. Best friends forever.

  “While I only requested one volunteer, two is probably even better. Especially since I’m not sure what we’re facing.”

  “Is that bitch Voadicia back, making trouble?” Babette asked. Which seemed unlikely, given she’d been swallowed by an alternate dimension. “I wouldn’t mind tearing her into meat chunks and feeding her to an ogre.”

  “And I shall spread the excrement created to fertilize the fields.”

  Both Babette and Remiel stared at her. Elspeth clapped her hands as she had her opportunity to spread her message of love my planet.

  “Reduce, reuse, recycle. It goes for everything. Bodies, too.”

  “In this case, there is no body,” Remiel said. “As far as we know, she’s still trapped in that alternate dimension. And accor
ding to my scientists, she won’t be getting out of there alive.”

  “What if she sucks the souls of the creatures in that dimension and stays strong?” asked Babette.

  “That’s a problem about a thousand years away. I’ll let the future kings deal with it. Our situation is less grave and happening right now, in Ireland. I’m not even sure if there is a problem. However, the Emerald Sept has asked me for help.”

  “Is it leprechauns?” Elspeth asked. The books she’d read indicated that they were foul-tempered little creatures that tasted sour, but Elspeth believed they were just misunderstood—and probably in need of some overnight marinating in a vanilla-sugar mix before roasting over a fire.

  Not that she ate meat anymore. Elspeth was a vegetarian—going on two weeks now. She’d started as a vegan but couldn’t live without cheese.

  Now, she opted for meals that didn’t bleed, but she would admit, it wasn’t easy to ignore the delicious protein that kept taunting her. She’d dreamed of a cow last night, with great big eyes, asking why she’d forsaken his delicious rump roast.

  “I don’t think it’s those pesky buggers,” Remiel stated, interrupting her salivation over the thought of burgers charbroiled to perfection. “While no one has caught anything on camera, there are eyewitness reports of a flying creature and missing people.”

  “Is it a dragon?” Babette asked.

  “Maybe. But it seems unlikely. According to the history books”—he swept a hand, indicating some shelves behind him—“there are only rare incidences where dragons have ingested people. Usually, the complaints are about missing livestock.”

  “If it’s not a dragon, then what other flying creatures are we aware of that do eat humans?” Babette asked.

  Elspeth raised her hand and wiggled on her chair.

  The king looked her way. “You know what it is.”

  “Not exactly, but I do know of a few races that fit the bill. Griffons.” Extremely rare. “Harpy.” Which did not taste like chicken. “Giant vampire bat.”

  “Those aren’t able to carry a person,” Babette noted.

  “Maybe they were small people.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t get sidetracked,” said their wise king. “As of now, attempts to bait and corral the creature have failed.”

  “Bait how?” When Elspeth’s mother wanted to find her, she baked cookies. No one could resist fresh-baked goodness.

  “Having some hunters meander around the areas it’s hit, looking like easy snacks.”

  “Hunters never look easy,” Babette remarked, and Elspeth had to agree. When predators roamed, they held themselves a certain way. That attitude was what separated the hunter from the prey.

  “Whatever it is, the few times the hunters have come close, they failed. It’s as if they’re chasing a shadow.”

  The term shadow chasing reminded Elspeth how she used to do that as a child. Then, one day, she managed to catch her shadow and hug it. It never appeared again. She liked to think it had gone on to a better place.

  “Is that it then?” Babette asked. “Hunt down the mysterious thing in the sky? Seems like an easy enough case. Where’s the danger?”

  “Did you not hear the part where I mentioned people going missing?”

  “And?”

  Remy expanded. “As in gone, never to return.”

  “People disappear.” Babette’s shoulders rolled. “Happens all the time to the puny humans.”

  On account that they were low on the food chain. It was why Elspeth had started a group to have them recognized as valuable household pets. Thus far, she was the only member, and she’d yet to find a human that didn’t run away. The next time she adopted a stray from the streets, she’d have to install a taller fence—and electrify it for their own safety.

  “Actually, it’s not just humans missing. A few dragons have disappeared, too.”

  “Cool,” Babette exclaimed. “Real danger. I was beginning to think you were paying me to take a vacation.”

  Her enthusiasm was contagious. Elspeth smiled and clapped her hands. “Fear not, oh mighty leader. Your loyal subjects shall move with haste to the scene of the crime and ferret out the culprit, as well as rescue anyone we can find.”

  “After I go shopping.” Babette held out her hand. “If you’ll just give me your credit card.”

  Remy steepled his fingers. “This could be serious.”

  “We shall treat this mission with the utmost respect, Your Majesty. We shan’t return until we’ve succeeded.” Elspeth held her hand over her heart as she gave her solemn oath.

  “We’ll kick ass, no worries.” Babette waggled her fingers.

  Remy sighed as he handed over a credit card. “Be careful, would you? If I had anyone else to send, I would, but with our coming out to the general populace, we’ve found ourselves busier than usual. Some of the younger members of the Septs seem to think they can gallivant about with impunity. I’ve got the farmers’ association calling me, claiming we’re eating their livestock. Congress trying to pass a bill that would force us to lodge flight plans every time we go above a thousand feet. Then there are the fake websites popping up claiming to sell dragon parts.”

  “Mine’s not fake,” Babette exclaimed. “I’m selling legitimately used panties.”

  Remy stared at her. “Dare I ask why?”

  Babette shrugged. “Beats washing them.”

  “Perhaps I should find someone else.”

  Elspeth jumped in. “Don’t worry. We’ve got this. We promise to leave no rock unturned. No mountaintop unexplored.”

  “No tavern unvisited.” Babette winked. “We got this, boss.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “If we’re done”—Babette rose from her chair— “we should get going before the stores close. I’ve got lots of shopping to do and panties to wear before we leave.”

  An ecstatic Elspeth was permitted to go along and carry said purchases. Babette even let her wear some of the panties she had to mail.

  Her plan to become best friends was working!

  Chapter Two

  “That won’t work. I can’t be expected to visit the market and shop like a peasant.” Luc—short for Lucifer—the last living branch of the Shining Ones, all dead save for him, paced in front of the cell holding the old man he’d captured. “Since when does a ruler have to purchase his own goods? Shouldn’t the shopkeepers be bringing their wares to me?” And then donating them if they wished to stay in his good graces?

  Luc might not have much experience with this world and its customs; however, he’d learned enough to know that the wealthy and powerful didn’t do things like everyone else.

  The old fellow, perched on a stool, sipping from a cup, shrugged. “Don’t get snippy with me just because you don’t like it. If you want to buy things, then you must go to the store.”

  “According to my mother, back in the day—”

  The fellow interrupted. “Times have changed. You asked how to replenish the larder in the castle, and I told you. Don’t blame me because you dislike the answer.”

  Luc’s lips pursed. The old human had much temerity speaking to him thus. Yet, he’d asked for the truth. Or else...

  “But what if I don’t want to leave the castle and mingle with the humans?” Lowly creatures that lacked the ability to admire his greatness. Luc had gone amongst them a few times, enough to know he didn’t enjoy their company one bit.

  “Then don’t leave the castle. Don’t do anything. That’s entirely your choice. Although, if you choose to skip shopping, then you’ll get awfully hungry.”

  “There are other options for sustenance that don’t require replenishing the larder.” Luc eyed the man in the cell. “I could always eat you.”

  The fellow snorted. “Oh, please. We both know I’m old and stringy. Not even worth the trouble. Besides, if you eat me, then who will answer your questions?”

  Good point. “I don’t like your world.” But it did beat living in his old one. A
dimension his jailors had named Hell. It wasn’t always a nightmare place. Once upon a time, it had practically been paradise.

  According to his parents, the dragons who’d invaded centuries ago had killed his dimension. In their quest to live, the beasts had destroyed the lushness that used to imbue the land. Siphoned every ounce of life from it and then turned on its occupants. Luc was the only thing to survive.

  And now he’d have his revenge.

  “You sound like a petulant child.” Alfred, whom he’d captured when he confiscated the castle he found, wasn’t shy about giving his opinion. He also didn’t blubber and cry like Luc’s other prisoners.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “When can I go home?”

  “You monster.”

  Sob.

  Was it any wonder he threatened to tear out their tongues if they didn’t stop?

  Luc paced in front of the bars. “These stores of which you speak… How do they work? Do I simply enter and advise the shopkeeper of my needs?”

  “Not quite. You are expected to choose your own items and bring them to the checkout.”

  “Carry the goods, as well?” Did these so-called stores not provide any service?

  “Most have carts for you to use.”

  “With cattle to pull them?” Seemed kind of odd. Just how big were these shopping places?

  “No, metal carts with wheels. You push them.”

  “Push? As in labor?” Luc sneered. He was quite good at it, especially once he’d discovered a properly given sneer or scowl got people to obey.

  “It’s not that hard.” Alfred shook his head. “You really haven’t the slightest clue, do you, boy?”

  Boy? The disrespect was enough to make him bare his teeth.

  “Put those things away. And stop breathing so hard. When was the last time you gargled some mouthwash? Not everyone wants to smell your last meal, you know. And would it kill you to use soap when you shower?”

  Luc sealed his lips and glared.

  “Don’t be sulking now. You want to fit in, I’m telling you how.”

  “There are too many rules in your world.” A vast amount of things for a former prisoner to learn.