Demorn: City of Innocents (The Asanti Series Book 2) Read online

  She hit the asphalt, the wheels skidding on the tarmac, and she floored it down the ocean road. Demorn took the corners fast, enjoying the speed, the way the Jag handled.

  ‘Do you remember that first night we met, Demorn? How old were you?’

  ‘Sixteen. Feels like a century ago. You weren’t as dead.’

  He sighed. ‘It replays for me. All this. We really do know how to mess up something beautiful.’

  ‘I miss Toxis,’ she said suddenly.

  ‘Who?’

  Demorn tapped her head. ‘A travelling companion. Telepath, barely spoke, kept her sentences short when she did.’ She smiled wickedly. ‘Beats the hell out of being interrogated by sick, old men.’

  He grinned at that with his awful teeth. ‘If you can all see Ultimate Fate, things are bad. All this might not last another month,’ he said matter-of-factly, his hand waving out to the ocean.

  She breathed out slowly. ‘I’ve seen him for years. He’s just closer to home now.’

  Her invisible watch flashed with a yellow icon. Smile. Smile. Smile. And then, Sad-face.

  ‘I thought nobody wore watches anymore.’

  She laughed. ‘I do, my brother does. It’s just that not everybody does. Now I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve got a call to take.’

  The Duke chuckled eerily. ‘I’m just your passenger, it’s your life.’

  End Interlude

  Part 1

  1

  * * *

  Beneath the deathly fabric of the mask, Demorn’s bright eyes blazed in the darkness. The Serpent Teeth shut behind them, the broken shards slicing together awkwardly and then seeming to re-meld.

  Demorn was more certain than ever that it was a trap.

  The entry room was more spacious than she would have guessed, strange hieroglyphics of ancient images upon the marble walls. A statue of a serpent wound around the centre of the room.

  Demorn examined the statue. It was made of jade, winding up from the base of the floor. It was wingless, a long worm with strange fins along its back and powerful legs.

  Her fingers shadowed but did not touch the statue, tracing the origin back to the base on the floor, where the statue curled out from a small round hole.

  Alex looked back over her shoulder. ‘You can see everything, can’t you?’

  ‘Most things,’ Demorn said carefully.

  ‘It must be lovely being the teacher’s pet.’

  Alex cracked a light and her hair shone bright for a moment. ‘Us mortals have to make do with our fancy tech.’ The light sparkled from different parts of her bodysuit and gave the room a light pink hue.

  Guard Dog gazed forlornly at a feature upon the wall.

  ‘I think you look like a living torch, Alex,’ Demorn said.

  ‘Thanks for never understanding me, bright eyes.’

  That brought a smile to Demorn.

  There was a hissing sound and black arrows stabbed into Guard Dog’s muscled neck. He staggered back. Demorn saw figures attack from the shadows, screaming like banshees.

  Guard Dog roared, his hands tearing the arrows from his skin, which sizzled and burnt when he ripped them from his blue hide. Alex was at Dog’s side in a moment, her electro knife slashing through the air at the figures flitting and twisting through the shadows. Her fast hands found a couple and their forms flashed a blinding blue as they perished.

  ‘Wraiths!’ Alex called.

  Demorn leapt from her crouching position. Her neck was seized in a vicious choking hold. She was swept from her feet and almost passed out under a blaze of burning pain. Her fingers vainly touched a thin, hot wire. It released itself from her neck with a vicious snap.

  The katana spun from her hand.

  The whip struck out again, gashing her across the death mask. She could taste blood in her mouth. Operating on instinct, she shot blindly twice with the Athena gun. There was a mad cackle from nearby and the whip came cracking down on her fingers, wrenching the gun from her hand, lacerating her skin.

  Demorn looked up to see a devilish thin creature holding a spiked red whip. The creature hid its face with a ballroom mask, adding to the sense of unreality. The creature had a thin, whiny voice, girlish but clearly male.

  ‘Aw, not so pretty anymore.’

  The side of her face stung bad. Demorn didn’t really care, nothing died pretty. Pretty was nothing.

  ‘Prettier than you are, freakoid.’

  The whip flicked again but Demorn dodged it easily, feeling the hot swift wind.

  ‘Rotten surface dwellers, disturbing a holy crypt.’

  Demorn remained poised, watching the whip crackling in his hands, looking for an opening, an edge. The creature had emaciated stick legs, and was dressed in a worn court uniform.

  Her gun and her blade were both out of reach.

  She could hear Alex and Guard Dog fighting the wraiths, but that was background noise, the soundtrack to the real action.

  The serpent eyes upon the statue glowed green. ‘What do you awaken, trespasser?’ the devil creature lisped. ‘What danger have you brought to this still tomb?’

  The serpent began to unwind from the hole in the chamber floor.

  The creature giggled. Demorn saw flashes of light dancing in her peripheral vision and she knew that Alex had killed nearly all the wraiths.

  The creature danced a miniature jig, crooning, ‘Happy days are the end of the end of days,’ while the serpent curled menacingly around the chamber.

  Demorn looked with piercing eyes toward Guard Dog and Alex. Dog was on the ground, unconscious or dead, a legion of shadow-wraiths on top of his huge form. Alex vainly tried to clear them as they endlessly spawned from the dark.

  The images shimmered. Demorn blinked and suddenly saw Alex on top of him, pushing the Bowie knife into him again and again, the blade piercing his inert blue body.

  ‘No, Alex! You’re killing him!’ Demorn cried, every word an absolute effort of will.

  The devil-creature hissed in surprise, and its bone-thin hands encircled her wrist. Demorn felt the pain and horrible ache of the countless people who had died in here, all their fears and anguish reflected in this horrible creature’s dark mirror mind.

  And there’s nothing else, nothing else but the tomb, she thought . . .

  That thought cut out.

  ‘He’s mine, he’s mine, he’s mine,’ Alex grunted. Her legs encircled its neck from behind, and she cracked it back and forth, getting a firmer and firmer grip as the creature squealed and screamed, as his neck cracked horribly.

  Demorn was thrown back, watching the thin creature struggle against the lock Alex held, until finally he was still.

  When the monster was finally dead, Alex rolled away, exhausted, gasping for breath. Mascara ran down her eyes. Guard Dog lay on the floor, unmoving.

  With an icy curiosity, Demorn took the mask from the devil creature’s face. It was a strange mix of purple and black tiger stripes, elegant and romantic, in perfect condition. The clasp released easily and she put the ballroom mask on, letting her digital death mask fall away.

  It fitted itself to her face. She felt the sliver of pain from the whiplash, but this felt perfect, it felt good. And now she could see the face of her enemy. It was no demon, no devil.

  ‘It’s an alien, a Shivan,’ she said. ‘They’re a passive species . . . healers, therapists.’

  She looked at Alex, recovering. ‘Empaths though. That’s how it got in our heads.’

  How puzzling. The Shivan were a Hive species. She didn’t know much about them, for they rarely left their home-world.

  This one was emaciated and possibly insane. She looked at its still, insect-like face and wondered what long path had brought it to this dark dungeon to die.

  With a sudden urgency and rising fury, Demorn seized the creature’s neck, and with a great swing of her katana she decapitated the alien, separating the head cleanly from the body.

  Demorn threw the creature’s head away with a sneer.


  Alex watched her with curious eyes. ‘You’re just making double sure?’

  Demorn brushed a finger across her temple. ‘They can fake death . . . stay embedded in your mind, plant suggestions.’

  Alex shrugged. ‘You’re the expert on the off-world freaks. I just know this weird universe doesn’t do healers OR therapists.’

  Alex reached out and touched Demorn’s face, caressing the edges of the mask. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘No . . . just a little scratch.’

  Alex slipped her hand inside the thin black and pink jacket she wore over the white bodysuit, pulling out a small tin filled with a fragrant cream.

  ‘Let me,’ she whispered, her hands freeing the mask’s clasp and running the oil across Demorn’s cut skin. Briefly, it stung and then felt soothing.

  ‘No,’ Demorn whispered, ‘It stays on. It stays on here. I want a reminder of this.’

  Alex nodded and put the mask back on. She did a camera shot with her fingers.

  ‘Check it out, you’re the Dark Princess variant action figure!’

  Demorn gently put her hand on Alex’s shoulder.

  ‘Thanks, hon. You saved my life.’

  Alex half-bowed with a sly smile. ‘Yeah, well I’ve always been territorial about getting to kill you, O Mighty One. I want you to look pretty in your casket.’

  There was a movement by the doorway and Guard Dog got up, his face and neck bloody and scarred, the knife wounds slowly mending.

  Alex laughed, maybe a little hysteria tinging it. ‘You can’t really kill my Dog. You can hurt him and you can scar him, but you can’t really kill him.’

  She rushed at Guard Dog and hugged his huge body hard, not caring about the blood and the mess dripping on her. And in Dog’s mangled face Demorn could see a pure, simple joy.

  She smiled. People were never as simple as they first appeared. Alex was right. In the end, no matter what happened, it was just more scars.

  Demorn walked to the doorway where Guard Dog had fought. Already the chamber felt cleaner, not filled with sick echoes. The translucent serpent had faded away.

  Whatever the Shivan were in this dimension, it wasn’t anything good.

  Alex saw an ornate layout on the stone wall, symbols pressed into the stone.

  The Teeth slammed shut behind them, the crystal needles regrowing and splicing into each other. It was dark except for the lights that ran across Alex’s bodysuit.

  They exchanged a quick glance, all business. There was just one way to go now. No room for bullshit.

  Alex studied the panel for a few moments and then quickly pressed a series of keystrokes.

  A black door slid open in the rock, revealing a plush elevator interior with a beautiful glass mirror.

  ‘Well down we go, Holy One,’ Alex said, gesturing to the interior.

  Demorn walked in. It was spacious, with leather reclining chairs and a giant red couch. She sank into a chair, exhausted.

  Alex busied herself with the controls, tiny holograms spinning from the display console as the elevator smoothly began moving downward.

  Demorn said, ‘You’re looking quite at home.’

  Alex looked at her, eyes sly and sexy. ‘O Holy Princess, I’m the complete package on a mission. Looks AND brains AND savage fighting skills.’

  Demorn chuckled. ‘I guess we’ve normally tried to kill each other by now.’

  The elevator spun down, deep down into the earth, a dark cavern the only thing visible through the glass windows. Demorn felt uneasy and distracted, the restless need for battle and action rising in her.

  She kicked off her shoes and got up. Her feet were cold on the floor, the feeling of restlessness eased a little.

  The darkness vanished as the lift soared down into a great open cavern. All they saw was a huge ocean of blazing blue fire.

  There was seemingly no end to it. On all sides the waves of blue fire crashed below them.

  Alex and Demorn stood pressed to the glass window, amazed despite themselves.

  ‘What do you think happened?’ Alex asked. ‘It has gone wrong, this world, hasn’t it?’

  Demorn closed her eyes away from the blue fire. All she saw was Chicago, lethal in her memory, intercut with the crazed pyramid visions of Wrecking Ball’s violent Heaven.

  ‘A dark spell. A viral curse. Something nobody can stop.’

  Alex sighed. ‘No witch or sorcerer I have ever fought with or against could so change the world with a single spell. Not for so long.’

  Demorn smiled bitterly. It had been a long two years. She didn’t like to think about such things. To be stranded on a world that was not her own, but rather some twisted negative.

  Her voice was calm and distant even to herself. ‘Don’t judge us innocent so fast. I’ve seen Corizan Witches sell the souls of their newborns for a fragment of power. Monsters are everywhere, on every world, in every city.’ She looked through the glass into the blazing fires but her mind was far away. ‘In Firethorn, our swords and our bravery hold them at bay, keeping the darkness to the ancient forest, ringed in by steel. But that cannot be every world.’

  Guard Dog grunted and it might have been in agreement, or simple exhaustion. He collapsed hard on the floor, breathing heavily.

  Alex moved to Guard Dog and poured a green liquid into his mouth. She looked sharply at Demorn. ‘Do you miss Firethorn, Princess?’

  Demorn was soft. ‘I have been called so many times to the White Fort, the red dragon banner . . . in the hours of her most desperate need. I don’t know what would happen if I never returned home again.’ She stopped, her voice sad. ‘To Firethorn, or me.’

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes. I miss the sun myself.’

  Demorn’s eyes remained focused on the blue flames, rolling below them. She felt tiny, a puppet in a play. She got hit with a memory of a beautiful girl with long dark brunette hair, small things they had spoken of so long ago.

  ‘Do you ever wonder about the Source of everything? Do you think we shall ever find it?’ she murmured, her eyes upon the flowing waves. The past was flickering with the present.

  Alex looked at her with that curious look again. She hit a series of buttons on the console. The lift stopped, grinding to a halt over the blue burning ocean.

  ‘No idea, love. I do know Guard Dog is a fight away from a permanent death. I’m hurt, you’re burnt out. We need REST. This place is probably as safe as anything down there. Especially now that we’re minus our friendly God-King. Agree?’

  Demorn nodded. She wasn’t sure if they would ever see Wrecking again.

  Alex flashed her a smile and a peace sign. ‘Cool, well Pax Romana then, I’m going to sleep.’

  Alex curled up on the couch, her pistol beside her hand. Demorn had to marvel how gorgeous and alluring Alex remained, even when covered in blood and muck.

  Demorn was so, so tired. Her eyes felt big and empty and her heart was a haunted house filled with phantoms. It was too much, too much. Suddenly she longed to wear the Skull Ring and embrace the cold control it brought, that ice in the heart which froze out every feeling, like sadness and regret, pain and happiness and joy.

  But she had forsaken the Skull Ring. She felt tired and human.

  Despite her weariness, sleep was not close. But she could not sit in the silence much longer, with blue flames burning so bright. Demorn fished her sunglasses out of her black kimono and looked out over the waves.

  The purple glasses blended with her magic eyes, working their own spell. Demorn curled her feet beneath her, her exhausted mind leaving this tawdry reality behind, pathetically eager to escape this dark universe, filled with horrible pastiches of what had been, haunting her memories, mocking her life.

  Interlude 2

  Everybody Loves Somebody

  Demorn woke with her eyes still closed. Her head lay on soft pillows, her body in smooth soft sheets. Strong perfume dominated the room, a scent she vaguely recognized. She was in a double bed, alone, with both sides ruffled by use.
/>   Soft music was playing, some lost classic. She didn’t even know the name but it was one of her favorite tunes. There was a feeling of total peace in the room, like nothing bad would ever happen here.

  She was dressed in loose pink pajamas, marked with Japanese script. I’m in Vegas, she thought. Why was she here, again?

  She looked over the desk by the bed, put her invisible watch on. There was a photo of herself, framed, giggling, looking totally alive. She radiated the kind of momentary, transient happiness that only a photo can truly capture, making us almost sad, wondering if we will ever be so without care again.

  A girl’s voice spoke behind her. ‘Oh, Demorn, you’re up. I thought you were going to sleep forever!’

  She leapt around. It was Sue, wearing a tight white bathrobe. Long dark hair immaculate over china-white skin. She radiated a wave of emotion so strong Demorn felt she could reach out and touch it. Demorn’s heart suddenly ached, right down to the marrow, the very skeleton of feeling.

  Sue, she sighed. And she knew, even before she glanced at the watch. She was back in time. This is our first date, our first weekend in Vegas. The first time I left Kate behind.

  Sue floated over the Green Lantern comics that littered the room, her robe open. Demorn felt love like it was a song. Her magic eyes shifted. She saw the Deaths moving inside Sue, twenty different spirits vibrating in an eternal cycle. Sue floated into her strong arms. Her perfume was so impossibly young, she barely weighed anything.

  ‘What’s wrong, Demorn? Where are you?’

  Demorn closed her eyes, smiling despite hot tears. She tried to remember, tried to answer the question in a way that would make sense. Her mind was full of holes and she could only recall fragments of times with Sue.

  ‘Where are we?’

  Different cities. Worlds. The fresh ocean off Santa Monica, hands held on airplanes, little fights that never lasted for long . . . a big, free young love, moments inside busy lives and other people.

  This was just the start. She brushed Sue’s head. Demorn saw the death spirits dance, different versions of the girl shift and move. She saw Sue in rooms with beautiful people, in this same room, with stunning men and women, time elastic around her. It didn’t matter, Demorn thought, nobody really owns anyone.