Demon Walking Page 4

  Elspeth tripped her. “While your infatuation with Joanna is adorable, perhaps you should look for someone more available. Unless you want to kill her husband, in which case, as your bestie, I’d have to help you hide the body.”

  “For the last time, I am not attracted to that cow. I want to question her some more. My gut says that woman is hiding something.”

  “Do you think she’s a man?” Elsie’s eyes widened.

  “No. I mean hiding information about the whole missing people thing.”

  “You heard what she said. The dragons all returned.”

  “Says her. I say, let me talk to them and prove they’re alive.”

  “And if they are? What then?”

  “Then I ask where they went. I didn’t believe her for one minute when she said she went off for some alone time.”

  “Perhaps she and the others are part of a secret club. Or a bunch of them went on vacation and didn’t want someone to know.” That happened quite often to Elsie. People did such a good job of making their trips and parties a surprise that they forgot to tell her. Looking at the pictures and videos afterwards was almost like being there.

  “I’m telling you, Elsie, I think those sneaky Emeralds are hiding something. And I don’t like it.”

  “I think someone needs a hug.”

  Babsy held up a hand as Elspeth moved in with arms outstretched.

  “Don’t you dare. My ribs just healed from the last time.”

  “A good thing we discovered your need for extra calcium to strengthen those bones.”

  “I’m a dragon. We don’t need milk.”

  “Nonsense. Milk does the body good. Speaking of which, I could really use a carton of chocolate milk. Can we hit a store on the way back to the hotel?”

  Babette’s nose wrinkled “You hit the store. I’m going to find a bar where the drinks are huge and not watered down.”

  “Alas, I’m afraid I cannot join you due to my allergy to alcohol.” Elsie had imbibed only three times in her life. Each time, the result wasn’t pretty. And, really, with her condition, she shouldn’t drink. It only made it worse.

  “What a pity. Guess I’ll see you back at the hotel. Eventually,” Babette muttered, splitting away from Elsie.

  “Bye, bestie. Have fun.” She was so happy Babette didn’t allow her unrequited affection for the Emerald dragon to keep her down.

  One day, she hoped to find someone who made her giddy with love. Thus far, Elspeth had yet to meet a man who could handle her exuberance. She’d promised Mother after she broke the first one to be more careful. She’d made that same promise the second and third times, too. Now, even the cops were keeping an eye on her.

  Wanting to avoid arrest because men were so fragile meant passing on many opportunities. However, she didn’t let that discourage her. One day, her dragon prince would come. She totally believed it, and yet her dreams always showed her someone darker and more dangerous. His face was hidden from her, as was his name. She only ever saw his eyes, those blazing blue orbs with a hint of red in the middle.

  Entering a grocery store, Elspeth couldn’t help but smile at everyone she saw as she wandered the aisles, basket over her arm.

  At the checkout, with her several cartons of chocolate milk and a wheel of cheese, she noticed an elderly gent with a cart full of groceries. All alone, the poor thing.

  She followed him out to the parking lot and got close to him—in case he was deaf—before saying, “Let me help you with that.”

  The poor fellow tucked a hand inside the breast of his jacket as he whirled. Obviously suffering from a weak ticker. Good thing she’d come along. He would have probably collapsed of a heart attack otherwise.

  “I’m fine,” he declared.

  “Nonsense. I’ve got this. You sit in the car while I handle it.” She shoved him in the direction of the driver’s seat and then proceeded to stow the groceries. Mostly meat. Hardly any veggies. And ice cream. Lots and lots of chocolate ice cream. She liked ice cream.

  When done, she tapped on his window. He rolled it down and peered at her. “Ma’am?”

  She giggled. “That’s my mother. I’m Elsie. Just so you know, all your groceries are in the trunk of your car.”

  “Thank you.”

  “That was an awful lot of food. Is there someone at home to help you bring it in?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Which was code for he was alone. “Lucky for you, I have nothing to do this evening.”

  Before the man could thank her, she placed her bag on the floor and sat in the passenger seat.

  The old fellow gaped at her.

  Since that happened quite often, she smiled and held out her hand. “Elspeth Canard. A pleasure to meet you.” She introduced herself more properly. At his age, he probably didn’t remember the first time she did it.

  “Erm, Alfred.”

  “Hi, Erm. I assume it’s all right to call you that, or would you prefer Mr. Alfred?”

  “Just Alfred will suffice.”

  “Well, Alfred, shall we?” She placed her hands on her knees, her skirt tucked over them. She wore a vivid emerald number this evening, with black cloverleaves for contrast and a white boat collar.

  Babette had choked with envy. The velvet green chunky heels with black buckles were almost as epic as her lipstick—Plump Cherry Delight.

  “Miss, you can’t come with me. What if something happens? People will have seen us on the security cameras.”

  “See, even you’re worried something will happen. It’s settled. I’m going with you.

  “I am surely out of your way.”

  “I’ve got nothing better to do. And don’t worry about driving me back. I’ll call a taxi.”

  “The master won’t like this,” he muttered.

  “You have a master? How lovely.” Being a woman of the world, Elsie didn’t ask him to elaborate. She’d seen Fifty Shades of Grey; however, she did have a hard time picturing Alfred in leather chaps being spanked. Or was he the spanker?

  She’d soon find out. Since he sat there not moving, she gently prodded. “Would you like me to drive?” She didn’t have a license anymore. Apparently, parking her car across the middle of a highway and forcing traffic to stop—for miles—to help a family of ducks cross was a major infraction, but she’d been in a different country. Surely, those same rules didn’t apply here.

  And driving the elderly was a public service.

  “I’ve got this,” he mumbled, putting the car in gear. “But Master Luc won’t like this. Mark my words.”

  She would have totally marked them if she had a pen that wrote on air. Someone should totally invent one.

  Chapter Four

  This invention is incredible.

  A picture frame, and a rather sizeable one at that, somehow captured entire places and people and put them inside to act for his personal pleasure.

  When Alfred showed him how to press a button and activate the magic of the object Alfred called a telly-vision, Luc had jumped and punched, breaking the first one. But the castle he’d commandeered had others, and he’d learned to watch the screen rather than pulverize it.

  Only one of the many things he’d learned. He’d discovered toilets for depositing waste—that…flushed. A cold box with food like pizza. He really liked pizza, and even knew how to make it himself. The oven that required no coal or kindling heated it to crispy perfection, and while he ate the gooey, savory slice, he watched the telly-vision. Watched wide-eyed in amazement, barely sleeping. He learned so much.

  Discounted quite a bit, as well. He didn’t believe most of the plays he saw. Especially the size of the futuristic cities with their gleaming, tall buildings that stretched impossibly into the sky. The castle he lived in was made of stone, as expected, much like the ruin he’d exited into when he left his home world.

  Impossibly tall and narrow spires of glass? A fantasy, surely.

  Alfred tried to convince him that it was real, as were the milling people on
the streets, and the thick lines of cars during something he’d called a traffic jam.

  Luc saw no evidence of jam anywhere, just the noisy carriages. The steedless chariots ran because of something Alfred had called science. Using machines. And combustion. Fancy words for a different kind of magic.

  In this world, away from the prison that quelled his power, he could feel some of the things his mother had tried to explain. The almost river-like sensation of magic running over him. He only had to raise a metaphysical hand to tap into it.

  He trailed his fingers only along the very edges and shuddered at the potential there. But was it too much? He’d only ever had access to crumbs of power while in the cell. Barely enough to create a spark. Only just enough for his mother to teach him.

  Now, there was too much, and he feared glutting himself on it. Magic could take a toll.

  You’re scared to use it.

  He ignored the voice. It sounded like his mother. But she was dead.

  I taught you how to harness it.

  Small puddles, not torrential rivers with strong currents.

  We came from this world. We were made to handle it.

  Perhaps the ability to control weakened over time from disuse. Perhaps the magic, with no one using it, got wildly out of control.

  He left the magic alone but constantly remained aware of it. A good thing because something disturbed it. There was a shiver in the magical river, and an easing of its current.

  Luc noticed it immediately and straightened. He sat in the parlor, watching a woman extoll on the features of a silver chain and dangling pendant. Luc wondered why anyone would want something they were selling ten thousand copies of. He watched them flying off the shelf, the inventory number decreasing. Fools, paying to be one of the flock.

  He’d rather be unique.

  He also wanted to be left alone. Which, apparently, wasn’t happening. He heard voices coming from the kitchen. Which was odd, considering he’d gotten rid of all his other prisoners. The only one he’d kept was Alfred.

  Well, Alfred and some cleaners. The old fellow claimed scrubbing floors and doing dishes was beneath him. But the crew Alfred hired had left for the day, so why did he hear a feminine voice?

  He crept down the hall, silent in his bare feet, listening for clues.

  “This is a cool castle, Alfred. Is it just you and your master living here?”

  “I am not at liberty to divulge my master’s business.” The words emerged stiffly.

  The reply to it was soft and lilting. “Oh, I get it. Still in the closet about your relationship. Totally cool. But just so you know, I am down with it. No judgment from me.”

  “I think you misunderstand, miss.”

  “You don’t have to explain, Alfie. Where is your freezer for the ice cream?”

  The rustle of bags, thumping of cupboard doors, and the distinct hiss of the seal being broken on the cooling unit filled the next few minutes.

  Luc crept closer. The feminine voice was quite fascinating and, at the same time, irritating with its cheerfulness.

  What reason does she have to be so happy?

  He peered around the edge of the doorway into the kitchen and saw nothing but Alfred, perched on a stool, looking bemused. His manservant caught sight of him, and Luc mouthed, “What’s going on?”

  The old man shrugged before saying aloud, “Do you always help random strangers?”

  A voice echoed from the freezer. “My mother says helping those weaker than me is a waste of time, but I like providing aid to people. It makes me feel good.”

  Altruism to feel good? Luc’s lip curled.

  “A young lady like yourself should be more careful about offering her services. You might find yourself caught in a bad situation.”

  Rich laughter boomed, and it made Luc shudder. When was the last time he’d had a reason to indulge in mirth?

  “Oh, Alfie. You flirt. I might look dainty, but I assure you, I’m tougher than I look.”

  The voice grew in volume as the unknown woman neared the door to the cooling unit. Luc popped back before she could see him.

  He’d gotten enough of the gist of the situation to realize that a stranger had offered Alfred some aid.

  But why? Surely, she lied about her charitable tendencies. More likely, she was a spy sent by his enemies to ferret out his intentions. Yet, he’d have sworn no one suspected his presence. An erroneous assumption. Perhaps, at this very moment, his enemies reconnoitered and gathered for an attack.

  Let them try. He’d fight and refuse to surrender to his very last breath.

  “All done, Alfie. Anything else I can help you with?”

  “No, you’ve done more than enough.”

  “It was so nice meeting you.”

  “Ack.”

  Luc’s eyes widened as he heard the pop of bones cracking. The female dared to kill his servant?

  He popped his head around the corner to look, only to squeak—in a manner much like the rodents he’d hunted in his old cell—when a pair of vivid green eyes met his.

  A bright voice chirped, “Hi, you must be Alfred’s master. You’re younger than I expected.”

  “You are trespassing,” he managed to mutter in reply, which was more than he’d thought possible given the way she’d startled him.

  It didn’t help that her very appearance stunned him. Her hair gleamed the golden yellow of a brilliant sun and hung in short, bouncy curls. Her skin appeared slightly tanned as if kissed by the sun’s rays. Freckles scattered across her straight nose. Her lips, full and red, juicy and plump, curved into a smile. Eyes the vivid green of the grass outside shone as she stared at him inquisitively.

  It wasn’t only her face that stunned. She stood a handspan shorter than him. A novelty, given all the females he’d encountered thus far in this dimension tended toward the shorter stature. She was broad of shoulder and muscled. Strong. Not some weak-fleshed female, and she was definitely all woman.

  He couldn’t help but notice her generous, hourglass shape. Her hips were full, her waist indented; the skirt she wore belling and falling demurely to her knees. As for her breasts, they were indecently embraced by the form-fitting top of her gown, the round collar displaying her slender neck from the shoulders up.

  Given her rather inappropriate attire—a woman showing her calves and her neck—his cock stirred, aroused by this…this…gorgeous female. It raised his ire.

  “Get out.” He practically growled the command.

  Her eyes widened with clear chagrin. “Oh, dear. I’ve made you jealous. I’m so sorry. Let me assure you that Alfred was nothing but a gentleman with me. Nothing inappropriate happened, so there is no reason for you to be angry with him. He’s still one hundred percent yours.”

  Her words made no sense, but her smell… He inhaled again and sifted past the honeyed fragrance surrounding her to the baser one underneath. He knew that smell.

  “You’re a dragon,” he snarled. The enemy in his home. Confronting him. He drew taller and expanded his chest.

  “My, what a good sense of smell you have. I am a dragon.” She clapped her hands, her smile bright. “Can you guess what color? I’ll give you a hint. It’s rare. So rare, my daddy accused my mother of cheating on him. But it turns out, after the paternity test was done, that there have been others like me that’ve popped up from time to time in his line.”

  Her babbling was obviously meant to confuse him. However, he didn’t let himself forget the fact that she’d tracked him down.

  He squinted at her. “What are you doing here?”

  “Helping Alfred with the groceries.”

  “You’re spying on me!” he declared. “Have you come to finish the annihilation of my race?”

  “Race? I didn’t know we were competing. I’m not really wearing the right footwear for it.” She peered down at her shoes, green with large buckles, the toes peeking—the tips of them a shade of pink that would look better around his ears. Not a position he’d indulged in yet in
this world; however, he’d seen it in a play on the telly-vision that went into graphic sexual detail. Alfred called it porn. He called it enlightening.

  She slid off her shoe and wiggled her foot. “Can we race barefoot to make it even?” She sought to obscure the issue. Obviously, a special talent of hers.

  “No matter your plan, I will fight it. I won’t be captured and imprisoned again.”

  “Poor thing.” She reached out and patted his cheek, creating an electrical shock that caused him to recoil. “Did someone cage you? Are you another of Parker’s victims? He put my second cousin Tomas in a cell. Mother says that didn’t end well for those who did it.”

  “What do you know of those incarcerated?”

  “Not much. Everyone is always trying to protect me from the ugly things in the world.” She leaned forward to whisper. “They think I’m fragile.”

  Her, fragile? “They are obviously blind.”

  “And you’re cute, which is probably one of the reasons you were put in a cage.” She patted his cheek again, and he turned his head, snapping his teeth, but missed her flesh. “You also smell really good. Like a hot cinnamon stick. Yummy. I just want to lick you all over.” Her eyes widened as she admitted her dark desire, and her cheeks turned a rosy shade.

  He didn’t let her escape the truth. “You admit to feasting on my kind?” What a stroke of chance finding one of Voadicia’s minions.

  “Eat you?” She eyed him up and down, her gaze lingering on a spot below his waist that only served to make his cock swell larger. “While you are ridiculously tempting, I would never think to come between you and Alfred. Although I might be talked into a threesome.” She winked before whirling and flouncing back into the kitchen proper.

  Meanwhile, he tried to process her statement. A threesome as in him, her, and…Alfred? The thought of getting into bed with the old fellow shriveled his cock, allowing the blood in his body to pump to his other extremities and organs, such as the starving brain in his head. He snapped out of his surprise enough to notice the woman with her hand on the back door.