Unchained, page 30
“But you won’t. You need us to save your skinny ass.”
“You violent, arrogant... ”
“I wouldn’t throw stones, bud. You’re the one who hired someone to kill me, right?” Ashe shot back.
“You can’t prove that!” But Bannerman turned the color of raw bread dough, his eyes going wide. “That’s unfounded speculation.” He was panting, his short, shallow breaths wheezing painfully. It was as good as a confession.
Ashe let her disgust show. “Is that the demon talking, or just your own cover-your-ass bluster? Grab a brain. You just finished saying you needed us.”
Reynard peered over the top of his sunglasses, flagrantly unimpressed. “Shall I blow his head off for you, my dear?” Despite the breezy tone, Reynard’s fingers tightened on the Smith & Wesson.
Ashe put a hand on his harm, reluctantly letting go of her anger. “As much as I hate to admit it, he was under compulsion.”
“Yes,” Bannerman nodded feverishly. “I wasn’t responsible for anything.”
“Except greed and stupidity,” Reynard replied in a hard voice, raising the gun with a casual air that said he’d have no qualms about pulling the trigger.
“No,” Bannerman said, flailing against the car in his terror. “Oh, God, no, I beg you!”
Reynard turned to Ashe, his eyes bleak. “It’s up to you. He’ll be a threat at least until the demon is banished.”
Ashe gritted her teeth in frustration. It was tempting to let Reynard do it. Neat, clean, quick, and final. But illegal. Bannerman wasn’t a monster. He was a demon’s thrall. If they could get rid of Tony, the lawyer would most likely revert to being ordinary scum instead of homicidal, hitman-hiring scum. She could throw him that lifeline, at least—if not for him, for the family she’d seen in the photo on his desk.
“Let him go,” she said regretfully.
Reynard lowered the gun and stepped back, eyeing the lawyer with contempt. “I think we’re done with you for now.”
Bannerman was in the car as fast as mortal limbs could manage. The motor started with an expensive purr.
Ashe pounded on the window. Bannerman lowered it a crack. “What?”
“Where in the mall is he?”
He gave her a hollow look. “Oh, you’ll find him.”
Ashe had to jump back before he ran over her feet.
Reynard caught her, one hand to her back. “I would say he doesn’t appreciate our good efforts.”
Ashe flipped the file open again. There were legal documents, printouts from the Internet showing warehouses, shops, and even an auction house. “We’ve got to stop Tony before Bannerman hits the Multiple Listing Service. Y’know, I almost feel sorry for the guy. He’s kind of like a Renfield.”
She closed the cover and slid the file inside her coat.
“Most demons start out as human servants,” Reynard said. “Another reason to stop this specimen. We don’t want him infecting others.”
That had always been one of those irrational, late-night terrors for Ashe: a world where demons slowly infected every human around her. Families, cities, countries would fall to their insatiable hunger. “If he’s contagious, then I’m a great big bottle of antiseptic.”
She took out her phone and started dialing.
Reynard looked at her. “Who are you calling?”
“The police. I don’t care what kind of a legal wall Bannerman’s buddies are building around him, that folder I grabbed has clear evidence that he’s been selling property to a demon. That’s good for five to ten years if he’s convicted. Even if he isn’t, it should keep him on ice long enough for us to clean up this mess.”
“How very crafty of you.”
“You didn’t think I’d let him off that easily, did you?”
She looked across at Reynard. Now that Bannerman was gone, his face had fallen into lines of weariness. The fight had cost him. Whatever grace period Grandma and Holly’s magic had provided was running out.
It took them another twenty minutes to reach the mall. Just as they got off the Ducati, a red T-bird turned into the lot, heading for the underground parking.
“That’s Holly and Alessandro,” Ashe said, setting a rapid pace toward the parking entrance. “Come on, let’s catch up.”
They started to run. Reynard slowed suddenly, pulling his sunglasses off and scanning the front of the mall.
“What’s wrong?” Ashe asked, skidding to a stop.
“My urn is in there. I can feel it.” He suddenly looked energized, as if someone had put in fresh batteries.
“Great. Let’s go get it.” Ashe grabbed his hand, pulling him into the shadows of the underground parking garage.
Alessandro was already out of the T-bird by the time they approached. “Hey, fang-boy,” Ashe said.
He grunted and clapped her shoulder by way of greeting. Beneath a long, leather coat, the vampire carried a broadsword that contained enough silver to be fatal to most magical creatures. A fatality was a distinct possibility when dealing with a vampire roused before dusk. He looked bleary and cranky.
Holly got out of the driver’s side of the car and promptly yawned. “I suppose we don’t have time for coffee before saving the city from the ultimate evil?”
“Sorry,” said Ashe. “The coffee they sell here is the ultimate evil.”
Then she did a double take, looking at Alessandro and then Holly. “He let you drive his precious Thunderbird?”
Holly gave the vampire a sidelong glance that spoke of a barely cooled argument. “No way I’m letting him drive during the day. He may look awake, but I’m not convinced.”
Alessandro narrowed his eyes, but Ashe couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or drowsy. She handed Holly Bannerman’s file. “Put this in the car. It’s a file with the future addresses of our demon.”
Reynard had drawn near the car and touched the glossy red hood with his fingertips. It didn’t take a mind reader to see the auto lust in his eyes. A low growl from Alessandro prompted him to remove his hand with a guilty jerk.
“What’s the plan?” Alessandro asked. “I’ve called other vampires who can walk in the daytime, as well as the hounds and wolf packs. They’re on standby.”
“We met the demon’s human servant on the way here,” Reynard replied. “He is under a compulsion, so there is every chance the demon has been warned of our approach. It would be wisest to assess the field before deploying your troops.”
“Bannerman said the demon would be easy to find,” added Ashe.
“That can’t be good.” Holly shut the car door and looked from one face to another. “I mean, what the hell is it doing?”
Ashe grimaced. “We need to see for ourselves.”
“But how do we look without revealing our location?” Alessandro asked.
She pointed to a service door. “We can get to the back entrance to the library from here. If the thing is expecting an attack, it won’t be looking for someone skulking in the young adult section.”
“I do not skulk,” said the vampire, giving Ashe an owlish glare.
Holly glanced at her mate and stifled a sigh. “Let’s do it.”
Ashe led the way. Reynard followed, then Holly and Caravelli. The heavy fire door groaned and clattered as Ashe pulled it open, the hollow vault of the parking area echoing with the noise. She took a set of narrow concrete stairs that zigzagged upward to the main level. The metal handrail was nearly devoid of paint, mere chips showing that it had once been an industrial green. Footfalls bounced and whispered in the empty space—the heavier tread of the men, Holly’s light step—until Ashe opened a second door that led into the service hallway behind the mall stores. Each plain white door had a number stenciled on it. Boxes of packing materials, dress hangers, and other junk sat here and there, waiting for pickup.
They all wrinkled their noses. Demon stink hung in the air.
Ashe turned to the right. “This way.”
They rounded a bend in the corridor and nearly ran headlong into a reed-thin young man smoking a cigarette. He ground it out hastily as they approached.
“Ashe!” he said, and it sounded angry.
Ashe stopped in her tracks. “Gary! What’s up?”
He was one of the bookstore clerks and a ringleader in the practical-joke wars, but he didn’t look like a lighthearted prankster now. He twitched nervously, his long, slender fingers working their way over his Book Box monogrammed polo shirt.
“It’s not funny.” Gary was obviously scared out of his wits, but trying to keep it together. “The cardboard guys, the Easter eggs, maybe it was a bit of a mess, but no one got hurt. This is too much.”
“What’s going on?”
“Things are going wrong all over the mall.” Gary gave another twitch. “Really strange stuff. Things flying. Wicked smells. The bookstore’s been hit with something bad. There’s stinky slime running all over the bestseller wall.”
Caravelli arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps a demon reviewer expressing his opinion?”
Gary gave him a panicked look. “Oh, God, a vampire.”
Ashe took the guy’s arm and shook him a little to drag his attention back from Alessandro. “This isn’t a joke by the library staff, Gary; it’s a real demon.”
Gary’s mouth curled into a sneer. “Is this not-a-joke stuff part of the joke?”
“Sadly, no,” said Alessandro, pulling out his huge sword and flashing his teeth.
“Oh, God!” Gary pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. Ashe wasn’t sure if he was going to cry or faint. “A demon. A vampire. Swords. This is like a really bad RPG.”
He started to hyperventilate. Ashe shook him hard enough that he dropped his hands and looked at her. Panic gouged lines around his eyes and mouth.
“Get it together, bud,” Ashe said in a hard voice. “We’re the cavalry, so don’t make me put on my mean face. Show us the demon.”
“O-okay. This way.” Gary pulled open the door marked with the number eight. Ashe saw that his hands were shaking.
“Sorry about the boxes,” he said. “We were unpacking a shipment when all this started.”
It wasn’t easy to pass through the back room. Boxes were piled in towers that reminded Ashe unpleasantly of the Book Burrow. A few were open, releasing the sharp scent of newly printed pages. Compared to the rotten smell of demon slime, the ink was as good as high-end perfume.
“Hey, there’s the new Linda Howard,” Holly commented as they edged past a table littered with paperbacks and pricing guns.
“If we save the world before store closing, I’ll buy you a copy,” Alessandro said dryly.
They emerged from the stockroom into the glare of fluorescent lights, Ashe and Reynard following last.
“The urn is very near,” Reynard said quietly. “I can feel it like a magnet.”
“We’re all over getting it back,” Ashe replied, bumping her shoulder against his. “Can’t have your soul end up a demon’s doorstop.”
He gave her a look that mixed exasperation with affection. Ashe looked away, a flutter of emotion beneath her breastbone. Her cheeks warmed. This so isn’t the time to flirt. It was time to hunt.
They fanned out beside the back entrance of the store, getting a good look at the place. Ashe knew the store well. Three aisles and a big discount table held most of its stock. The walls were floor-to-ceiling displays of magazines, bestsellers, and self-help paperbacks—but that wasn’t all.
“Holy slimefest,” said Holly.
Blue-green ooze drizzled down the walls. Perhaps the mess had started in the bestseller section, but it had spread to every shelf in the place. Magazines curled and sagged beneath the weight of the goo. Cardboard dumps once filled with featured titles had melted into glistening mounds, books sticking out like the ribs of a sinking ship. The worst was the discount table, which was completely engulfed. Every so often the mess formed a bubble that burst with an evil-smelling ploop, spouting a rivulet of slime like a miniature volcano from hell.
Gary was aghast. “This is so much worse than it was a few minutes ago.”
“The demon’s not here,” said Alessandro. “And neither are the staff or clientele. I think this store is beyond our help.”
Ashe held her hand over her nose, trying to filter the smell. “Let’s go where there’s more air. This stuff is toxic.”
They started for the main aisle of the mall, Holly dragging the stunned clerk by the hand. The floor was slippery, so what started as a quick march slowed to a careful skate. Ashe braced her hand on Reynard’s sleeve more than once, on the verge of falling into the blue-green mass.
When they reached the dimly lit aisle of the mall, Gary pulled the fan-fold door across the front of the bookstore. “It’s not like anyone’s going to go in there, but it makes me feel better.”
Ashe turned to Reynard. “Is this is payback for the fact that the Book Burrow was torched?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. That business appears to be in the same condition.”
Ashe looked where he pointed. It was a Goth-wear store. A metal-studded bustier in the display window dripped goo. She felt a pang of sorrow; she’d secretly wanted it even though it cost a mint. “Anyplace else?”
“Not that I can see,” Reynard replied.
In fact, the mall looked almost empty. She’d expected terrified mobs, hostages at slime point, demonic demands for unlimited access to the shopping channel. Instead, she could make out every note of the easy listening cover tunes echoing around the mall. Tuesdays were usually quiet, but it looked like only a handful of the curious were braving the smell to take video of the trailing ooze.
“Where’s mall security?” Holly asked.
Gary shrugged. “We tried calling, but nobody answered. Maybe whatever did this took them out first.” He turned to Ashe, seeming to recover his nerve. “What can I do?”
Ashe gripped his shoulder. “Get everyone you can to leave. Try to convince the stores to close up and send the staff home. Then go yourself. This is going to get nasty.”
Gary nodded, taking them all in with a grave stare. “You rock.”
“We try,” Ashe said. “Now go, grasshopper.”
He went, striding up to a couple of the onlookers to send them on their way.
Good. Ashe glanced at the others. “Anyone see a demon lair?”
“Not yet,” Holly said.
“Then we start looking. Split up or stay together?”
“Stay together,” Alessandro said, looking at Holly. “If there are still shoppers coming and going, the demon does not yet control the entire mall. If we’re lucky, his influence will be localized.”
Ashe nodded, and they began moving as a group, walking slowly and checking out every store for signs of possession. A small part of her brain flashed on high school and cutting classes at this very mall with her gang of friends. Even some of the stores were still the same. Life is weird.
The demon hadn’t touched the stereo shop, the store that sold vitamins, or the career-woman boutiques. The toy store looked like it had been looted by Viking raiders. They followed a trail of toy knights and plush animals—one that looked like a cousin to the bunny Belenos had left with Lore—around the corner to a different aisle. There, kitty-corner to where they stopped, they spotted the demon’s hoard.
“As shoppers go,” Holly said slowly, “I’d say he was pretty unfocused.”
“I’d say he was escalating,” Ashe said. “Maybe losing the bookstore tipped old Tony off the edge.”
She couldn’t help gaping. The demon had moved into one of the empty storefronts, breaking the gate open and turning on the lights. They glared down into a space devoid of fixtures or furniture, but not of stuff. A jumble of heaps and piles made it hard to recognize half of it. Gourmet cookware formed a precarious tower of gleaming copper and stainless steel. There were books and gaming consoles and toys, a tie rack, ornately glazed planter pots for holding small trees, and a collection of fancy stepping-stones for the garden. The demon had apparently hit the garden center. There was a sofa and matching love seat in white leather. A pair of matching end tables—very nice ones with a hand-rubbed walnut finish, and Ashe knew that because she’d drooled on them the other day—held faux Tiffany lamps. But what she saw most of was collections. A mountain of fashion dolls with their cars, houses, and bewildering wardrobes. Kitchen knives. Boxed sets of TV shows on DVD. Boxed sets of flatware and stemware and Royal Doulton dishes with gold trim.
“Where do you draw the line between collecting and hoarding?” Alessandro asked softly, as if speaking to himself.
“About fifty action figures ago,” Holly replied. “I’m surprised the thing didn’t go for a city lot full of storage lockers.”
“Display is half of its pleasure,” Reynard replied. “I have met this creature’s kind once or twice before.”
“Any insights we can use?” asked Holly. “How do the guardsmen deal with demons in the Castle?”
“They are not allowed in the general population. Certain areas of the Castle are sealed off for the demons, where they can do no harm.”
“What if one gets loose?”
“One or two guardsmen cannot manage a large demon like this. It takes at least a dozen, and then only within the Castle. If it were merely a matter of rounding up our friend under guard, Mac would have sent reinforcements. He can help once the demon is inside the Castle walls.”
Holly gave him a surprised look. “What have you done in the past with cases like this?”
Reynard gave a resigned sigh. “We rely on the help of sorcerers and witches. The old guard used to have sorcerers in our number, but the years have taken their toll. I have some magic, but not enough for this.”
“I have the key Belenos was using,” Ashe said. “Is that any help?”
“The keys don’t work with fey or most demons,” Reynard replied. “They won’t pass through doorways made by the keys. There were safeguards put in place against the most dangerous species. However, I can open a portal using guardsmen’s magic. It will pass through that well enough.”
