Unchained

Chapter 22

Tuesday, April 7, 8:30 a.m.

Carver House

Since Holly was the only one among them who’d actually bagged a demon, she agreed to meet them at the mall as soon as Grandma arrived to watch the kids. While Ashe was making those arrangements, Reynard called the hellhound guard post outside the Castle door and reported that the errant demon had possibly been found. Mac and the other guardsmen should be on standby.

Those errands done,Ashe and Reynard took the Ducati, roaring through the streets with the abandon of teenagers on spring break. She could feel his excitement in the play of his body behind her, in the tingle of his power dancing along her skin. It was a Tuesday morning and traffic was light. They sped past empty playgrounds, silent houses, and schools with throngs of children standing outside the doors. Coffee shops had tables out on the sidewalk, patrons reading the paper and sunning themselves. Except for the task at hand, it was a beautiful morning.

Hellspawn had a way of souring the mood.

Ashe tried to remember everything she knew about demons. There were many different kinds—the term “demon” was about as specific as “bug.” Some were born. Hellhounds were a kind of half demon. Born demons tended to be fairly sane and law-abiding. Others were parasites that infected human hosts. Most of those demons were far more powerful and very bad news. Fortunately, they were rare.

Ashe had killed a few lesser demons, but none bigger than a bread box. The big guys had to be banished, and that took magic powers. The Carver witches had performed a banishing spell exactly twice. It had been the same soul-eater demon both times. Ashe’s ancestor Elaine Carver had died the first time they’d booted it out of Fairview. The second time, Holly had killed the demon and ripped open the doorway to the Castle. Ashe hadn’t been present at that battle, but she’d heard it took a whole lot of magic to get the job done. Holly had pulled earth magic from a nexus of ley lines that converged right where the battle was being fought. Where that had been an ocean of power, the area around the mall was a trickle. Plus, Holly’s powers were just coming back online. They couldn’t count on her providing that boatload of power. The best they could hope for was, like, a kiddie pool’s worth. Or a salad bowl. Or a butter dish. Even if a collector demon wasn’t the badass that the soul eater had been, how the hell were they going to get rid of it?

They pulled up to a stoplight. It was only chance that made her glance down almost at the same time that Reynard tapped her shoulder and pointed at the brand-new BMW 5 Series sedan next to them. Ashe recognized the driver. Bannerman. A hot wave of dislike itched its way across her skin. Was he out and about doing business for Tony? Were they picking out curtains for more demon hidey-holes?

At that moment, the lawyer looked up. Even through the tinted glass of the car window, she could see him pale as he figured out who was glaring into his passenger window. His expression said he was terrified of Ashe. Gratifying, but . . . Sure, she’d roughed him up a bit, but not enough to explain the sudden tears in his eyes. That made her plain curious. Had something new happened?

Suddenly the silver BMW swerved out of its lane, moving to the right to slide into the turning lane that led to the highway. An evasive maneuver, if there ever was one. That doubled Ashe’s curiosity. Did Bannerman somehow know that she knew he’d hired the assassin to kill her?

The moment he began to pick up speed, the light changed. Ashe cut across two lanes of traffic before the other drivers could react. Like a shot, she was after the lawyer, Reynard letting out a whoop as the Ducati’s engine opened up with a snarl.

The gorgeous BMW had plenty of horses of its own, and Bannerman had a head start. They were on the four-lane stretch of road that would eventually head to the ferries. Ashe was cautious about weaving around cars, especially with a passenger, but she pulled past the pickup in front of her to get a better visual of Bannerman’s car. The pickup honked, but it was mere background noise. She had the roar of the engine in her head, the vibration between her thighs, and a hot and happy male pressed against her back. She was born for moments like this. Her heart seemed to beat in her throat, straining like a horse fighting its bit.

Bannerman was two cars ahead now, and signaling to pass a third. They swept beneath an overpass, the heavy band of shadow a sudden coolness on her face. The BMW changed lanes, sped up. Ashe guided the Ducati into the space between two lanes and let it rip. She felt Reynard’s hands tighten around her waist.

In twenty seconds, she slid into a space only a car length behind her quarry. She saw Bannerman looking in the rearview, squirming, rubbernecking from side to side for an escape.

Why was he so afraid? It wasn’t like she had punched him out or anything.

He took a risky dodge into the left lane. In another second, he turned, flooring it before three lanes of south-bound traffic could T-bone his beautiful car. Ashe swore, but more for form’s sake. She simply pulled an illegal Uey at the next break in the meridian.

“Bloody hell, woman!” Reynard roared in her ear.

“Suck it up; we’ve almost got him.”

Okay, so that was a little optimistic. By the time Ashe reached the turnoff, she saw the BMW silhouetted against the bright April sky. Bannerman was heading southeast on one of the narrow roads that led through the maze of hobby farms north of Fairview. If they lost him in that neck of the woods, the trail would grow cold fast.

There was nothing but empty field between her and Bannerman’s car, but the winter rains had turned the ground into a muddy slough. She found herself slowing to compensate for dirt and gravel left behind by farm vehicles crossing from field to road. Bannerman was slowing as well, bumps in the road threatening to bottom out the expensive car. The lawyer was more cautious than he needed to be, but that was fine with Ashe. She was gaining on her timid prey.

The BMW crested a hill and disappeared over the other side. Ashe did the same. Pulled up behind Bannerman. Pulled alongside him. She glanced over, saw the mix of fury and fear in his eyes.

As the hill began to descend, she took a risk and put on the speed. The Ducati swooped ahead, Ashe dodging most hazards but gambling with her control when the road bumped too hard. A half mile ahead, the road forked. That was all the space Ashe had to stop Bannerman. When she had gained just enough distance, she slowed the bike, turning it to block both lanes. Tires chewed the pavement as she slowed to a stop. A plume of dirt and dust kicked up.

Reynard jumped off, grabbing his helmet off his head. He looked ashen, but he ran to put himself between Ashe and the oncoming car, drawing his Smith & Wesson as he went.

“Whoa! Stop!” Ashe yelled, steps behind him.

For a moment, she thought they’d both be a hood ornament. Only at the last second did Bannerman stand on the brakes, bringing the vehicle to a lurching halt.

Ashe stood very still, partly to show no fear, partly because she thought her knees would collapse.

The passenger door flew open and Bannerman shot out in a panicked sprint toward the main highway.

You’ve got to be kidding.

Reynard set his helmet on the bike. “Shall we go wish Mr. Bannerman a good morning?”

Ashe was right behind him. “Oh, yeah, I’m looking forward to this.”

Reynard caught up to him in a burst of guardsman superspeed. He grabbed the lawyer by one arm, dragging him back before he’d gone a hundred feet. Reynard pinned him against the shiny BMW.

Despite the cool spring air, Bannerman was sweating, his hair limp against his skull. The skin under his eyes looked puffy and dull. He seemed to have aged ten years since Ashe had met him only a few weeks ago.

The lawyer was apparently getting what he deserved.

“Going somewhere in a hurry?” Ashe asked.

“Let go of me!” Bannerman snapped, but his eyes were begging.

What does he think we’re going to do? Not that she couldn’t think of a few things.

Ashe tried to guess what Bannerman was seeing. She and Reynard were both dressed for action in dark leathers, denim, and sunglasses. They probably looked like rejects from a metal band. Reynard took his hand off the lawyer’s arm, but stood close enough so the man still couldn’t move.

Ashe folded her arms, a bit of a trick in a tight leather jacket. “So how is good old Tony this morning?”

“Don’t ask me about him. I can’t talk about him.”

“Yeah, right. The compulsion.”

The skin around Bannerman’s eyes puckered. “It hurts.”

Reynard nodded. “Some silencing spells work through pain.”

“Is that why you ran just now? Because you were afraid we’d make you talk?”

Bannerman bobbed his head once, his face going gray. Sweat shone on his upper lip.

“Damn.” Ashe hated this. Bannerman was a creep and had earned a lot of payback, but she wasn’t into torture.

“Is the demon at the North Central Shopping Mall?” Reynard asked. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” The lawyer writhed as if something had pierced him through.

Reynard leaned closer, his expression showing regret, but neither did he shy away from the task at hand. “Has he purchased other places?”

“Not yet.”

So the two other addresses the hacker had given them were Bannerman’s own investments and not for Tony. Good to know.

“Are you in the process of arranging such a purchase for the demon?” Reynard asked.

“Yes.” Bannerman gasped.

“How many?”

Bannerman twisted and fell to his hands and knees, retching. Ashe jumped back before he puked on her boots. The sound made her mouth water in sick sympathy.

The lawyer held up three fingers.

The demon was trying to buy three other places.

Bannerman crawled to his feet, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief. Reynard hauled him up until he could lean on the car. Bannerman’s head fell forward. When he lifted it slowly, Ashe could read the exhaustion in every line of his body.

“It seemed simple at first,” the lawyer said. “He seemed normal, even nice. He just wanted a bookstore. I was settling the Cowan estate. I thought, why not? But then things changed.” Bannerman’s face twitched, but he had the look of a man gone beyond pain to numb surrender.

“How?”

“It’s like he was part human when he first came into the office. I couldn’t even tell he was a demon at first. Now he’s all demon, all the time.”

“How is he choosing his properties?” Reynard asked. “Are there certain strategic locations he’s after?”

“I don’t know. He just wanders around town. Once he settles on a place he likes, it’s up to me to convince the owner to sell. And up to me to pay for it.” Bannerman hung his head as if he’d lost the strength to lift it. His eyes were screwed shut. “You’ve got to stop him. I can’t.”

It dawned on Ashe that Bannerman had just volunteered information, despite the pain. She flashed back to her first interview with the lawyer, when his office had started dripping slime. In a roundabout way, he had asked her to save him from Tony then. He still wanted her to save him now.

“And if the owner declines to sell?” Reynard asked.

Bannerman shook his head. “I don’t want to know.”

Ashe felt another layer of anger spreading over her soul. “I am so going to ice this hellspawn.”

Reynard stepped back from Bannerman and reached into the car. When he straightened, he had a file in his hand. “Does this give the particulars of the sales?”

Bannerman opened his eyes and nodded.

Ashe took the file and glanced at the papers. She was no lawyer, but it looked as if every last detail of the transactions was documented there. She couldn’t stifle a grin. “You’re not getting a retainer, are you?”

Straightening, the lawyer returned a look meant to boil flesh from the bone, suddenly the Bannerman she’d first met. “I could still file for assault, you know.”

“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 bread dough, his eyes going wide. “As far as a court’s concerned, that’s pure speculation.” He was panting, his short, shallow breaths wheezing painfully.

Ashe let her disgust show. “Is that the demon talking, or just your own cover-your-ass legal 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 arm, 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 an icy tone, 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. “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, hit man- 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.”

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 making friends. Demons are an epidemic waiting for an opportunity.”

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. She couldn’t handle the thought that those paranoid fantasies might come true. “If they’re an epidemic, 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 you 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 on the way here,” Reynard replied. “He is under a compulsion to serve his master. 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 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. Footsteps 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 light-hearted 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 in a sneer. “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 role-playing game.”

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 get through. 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 out of the stockroom into the flickering glare of fluorescent lights, Ashe and Reynard following last. She 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 the latest fitness DVDs.

“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.

“Holy slimefest,” said Holly.

Gary was aghast. “This is so much worse than it was a few minutes ago.”

It was no big surprise that the store was empty of staff and customers.

Blue-green slime 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 by the ooze. Every so often it formed a bubble that burst with an evil-smelling ploop, spouting a rivulet of slime like a miniature volcano from hell.

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,” he explained. “I think we’re shut for the day.”

Ashe turned to Reynard. “Is this 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 slime. 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 snap cell phone pictures 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 picture takers 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 control the entire mall yet. If we’re lucky, his influence will be localized.”

Ashe nodded, and they began to tour the mall as a group, walking slowly and checking out every store for signs of demonic possession. A small part of her brain flashed on high school and cutting classes with a gang of friends. Even some of the stores were still the same. 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 arm of the mall. 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 DVDs and toys, a lawn mower, ornately glazed outdoor pots for holding small trees, and a collection of fancy stepping-stones for the garden. The demon had apparently hit Sears’s gardening 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 had a moment of longing the other day for something besides bargain pine with dents—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 movie 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 only 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, and only additional sorcery can open a door for them. However, I can open a portal using guardsmen’s magic. It will pass through that well enough.”

Ashe cursed. “So we treat this like we did the rabbit: You open a portal, and the rest of us get old Tony into Mac’s loving care?”

Reynard nodded. Holly and Alessandro exchanged glances and agreed.

“Shouldn’t we look for the urn while slime-boy isn’t around?” Ashe suggested.

“I’d rather know where the demon is first,” said Holly. “That could be a trap.”

“You’re quite right,” Reynard agreed. “I had best let Mac know we are ready to proceed. He needs to alert his men to be standing by.”

“Why not open a portal now?” Holly asked. “I mean, to me that’s the hard part. Get it over with.”

“I don’t want to alert our friend that there is a guardsman in the house. Surprise is an advantage.” He turned to Ashe. “May I borrow your cell phone?”

Ashe fished in her pocket. “They get cell reception in the Castle?”

“No. We relay messages through the hounds guarding the gate.”

Reynard took the phone, opened it carefully, and began deliberately punching numbers. He held it up to his ear. Ashe took it away, hit send, and gave it back with a smile. He gave a sheepish grin. She loved a man who wasn’t afraid to laugh at himself. She didn’t have to walk on eggshells.

As Reynard made the call, she took a few steps away from her friends. We’ve found the demon’s treasure, but where is the demon? She looked down the gloomy corridor at the largely empty mall. She’d spent so much time there over the years, she felt protective of the place. She searched out each display window, checking to see which ones were still okay. The watch store and the florist looked okay. So did the bridal shop.

She took a few steps toward Louise’s Weddings, running her eyes over the gown in the front window. With a thrill of relief, she saw her favorite dress was still unslimed. It was a long, strapless white sheath, plain but classic. She’d had a quickie civil ceremony, over before the ink on the paperwork was dry. She didn’t like fuss, but that dress made her think a little might be nice. Champagne, photographs, a honeymoon . . . sirens.

She could hear sirens approaching. Distant, but moving fast.

She started toward the mall door to see what was coming. Had somebody figured out the slime wasn’t a maintenance issue and called the cops? Maybe the gas company, mistaking the bad smell for a leak?

More humans on site meant bad news. Casualties would be blamed on the supernatural community as a whole, and the nonhumans were barely tolerated anyway. All the more reason to wrap this up, fast.

“We’ve got company,” she said to the others. “Emergency vehicles are on the way.”

“Look at this.” Alessandro pointed. Halfway down the aisle was the Easter Bunny’s throne, where kiddies sat on the Bun’s knee and wished for bushels of chocolate eggs.

Given her current feelings about rabbits, Ashe was glad His Floppiness was off that day. “What about it?” Ashe asked. Why is this important?

The throne was surrounded by displays of fuzzy chicks, jelly beans, and cardboard lambs in unlikely pastel colors. The nearby card shop replicated the scene in their window, with the addition of a tiny Easter-themed village complete with moving train. As Ashe drew closer, she heard a small, asthmatic wheeze meant to be its whistle.

She felt Alessandro walking beside her; the vampire made no noise. “The card store sells this Easter village,” he said. “The individual pieces are collectible and expensive.”

Ashe suddenly understood where he was going with this. She drew the Colt she was carrying at the small of her back. “The store has only one of the churches. That piece costs hundreds of dollars.”

Alessandro’s face grew grim as he gripped his sword. “I can’t see our demon passing up such a prize, can you?”

They stopped their advance a few yards away from the card shop’s entrance. More slowly, they edged toward the door. Ashe risked a glance behind her. Reynard was with them now, gun drawn, Holly behind him.

She peered around a big display of souvenir mugs and into the store. Shit. Hostages.

Tony sat on the cash desk, an affable smile on his face. He was opening every box that held a piece of the collectible village and setting the miniature beside him. About twenty customers and staff huddled on the floor. He was using this store for his holding cell. Ashe counted five under Eden’s age, and two elderly women. She turned and waved at the others to stay out of sight. He’s got to have taken out mall security. Someone would have seen all this on a surveillance camera!

But maybe someone had used their cell phone to sneak a call to the cops? She’d heard sirens—where the hell were they?

“I’m still missing the bridge,” Tony said. His pleasant expression didn’t reach his voice. It was flat and cold as a dagger.

The saleswoman hurried to a cupboard with a sliding door. She opened it, rummaging frantically through what looked like dozens of identical boxes, reading the labels to find the thing he wanted. She finally found it and rushed back. “Here you are, sir.”

Carefully, Tony eased open the lid and pulled out a block of Styrofoam. He pulled that apart to reveal a small stone bridge ready to take the Easter Express across an imaginary river. A delighted smile played on his lips until his face suddenly fell.

“There’s a chip in it!” He held it up, pointing to something Ashe couldn’t see. He rounded on the saleswoman. “This is flawed!”

“I’ll get you another, sir,” the woman squeaked, and hurried back to the cupboard.

The demon hurled the offending bridge against a glass display case. The safety glass exploded with a resounding boom, sending a shower of chips to the floor. The saleswoman screamed, and two of the children started to cry.

“Give me another!” Tony roared in an unearthly voice.

Ashe used the moment to slide inside the store unnoticed, Alessandro on her heels. Reynard and Holly headed to the other side of the store. She was pretty sure a bullet wouldn’t kill a demon in human form, but it would hurt and maybe incapacitate. All they had to do was shove Tony through a portal, and they were done.

A woman squealed when she saw the gun, but with the crying children the noise made no difference. When Ashe had a clear head shot, she squeezed the trigger. She felt the recoil and heard the blam a microsecond later.

In the next eyeblink, Tony slid off the counter, the bullet between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re starting to annoy me.”

Ashe felt a ripple of earth magic. Holly was gathering her forces. Thank Goddess her magic’s back. Ashe faced off with the demon, keeping his focus on her. “Well, you’re past pissing me off, so we’re even.”

“Get out. Leave me alone. I own this mall.”

“Demons can’t hold property. Not so much as a post-office box. Any agreement Bannerman drew up is a fraud.”

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law, and believe me, demons are good at possession.” He laughed at his own joke, and tossed the bullet aside.

“Why the hostages?”

“The policemen I hear pulling up outside.” Tony flashed his dimples, looking almost jolly. “Hostages keep them civil.”

She felt Holly pulling in earth energy again. Ashe stalled some more, giving her sister more time. “What were you before you were a demon?”

“An estate appraiser. All those lovely things, none of them mine. It was a sad life.” He grabbed the second box the saleslady had brought. “Now I can have whatever I want.”

“Have you noticed that it’s mostly junk?”

He chuckled, opening the box. “Who says it’s about the dollar value? Having things makes me all warm and happy inside.”

Ashe could see Holly now. Her sister had moved up behind where Tony stood. Holly let loose a flash of power. Tony jolted like he’d been electrocuted, smoke seeping from his skin. At the same moment, Alessandro dropped from the ceiling, sword flashing.

“Go!” Ashe screamed at the hostages. They scrambled, but not all of them were quick. She heaved the two older women to their feet, pushing them out of harm’s way.

But not fast enough.

Furious, Tony hurled Alessandro into a rack of cards. The blast of energy knocked three of the fleeing humans to their knees. Reynard was suddenly there, hustling them out the door. Another angry wave of power followed. Ashe staggered back, bruising her shoulder on a shelf bracket. She holstered her useless gun, thinking fast.

The demon’s human form wavered like an underwater image, the colors that made up his clothes, the definition of his features growing dark and indistinct. A second later, he dissolved into a billow of smoke, wings unfurling from his swirling form and filling the width of the store. Ashe got an impression of teeth and beak.

Great Goddess, they had to contain this thing. They had to distract it from the running hostages. She saw the miniature church on the counter and had an idea. Tony’s Easter village wouldn’t be complete without it.

Near the front of the store, Holly dropped her arms, realizing her spell hadn’t been powerful enough. Ashe grabbed the miniature church from the counter and hurled it at her sister. “Catch! Run for the hoard!”

Holly’s eyes went round as she caught the thing, but she obediently bolted. The demon thing whirled, tendrils of smoke seeming to flow around its fluid move. It shrieked its displeasure, hurling mugs and little houses after her.

Reynard used the opportunity to open a portal right on top of it. Enraged, the demon lashed out. Cards exploded into the air. Paperweights and gift boxes flew in crazy figure eights. Something heavy caught Ashe in the back of the head. She stumbled, tripping over the edge of a low display shelf. Once she was down, every airborne object zoomed toward her like hostile snow: envelopes, bows, pens, notebooks, photo frames, and tree ornaments. Ashe rolled facedown and covered her head with her hands, trying to get her knees under her. The flimsy cards felt weirdly heavy, like they were brick instead of paper, and more and more piled on top of her. Ashe tried to thrust out a hand, but the edges of the cards and envelopes seemed stuck together. Light filtered through the curtain of paper, a checkerboard of pink and white and pale green, but she couldn’t poke through the cocoon.

Panic set in. She wriggled, but every movement increased the weight of the trap. Her legs were pinned and she couldn’t kick. Ashe stopped, listening and panting. She was conscious of the worn carpet inches from her nose and mouth, a mashed piece of gum just beyond her cheek. Fake cherry scent didn’t mix well with the reek of demon.

She couldn’t hear a thing. Crushing down on her ribs and spine, the pile of paper was grinding her to the floor. A burn started in her lungs as they struggled to inflate. It felt like every object the demon had ever collected was piled on her back.

Not even her fingers could budge. Every nerve in her body seemed to fire, begging to move her muscles, but all she managed was a shudder. Hot, salty tears of frustration ran over her lips and into the scratchy carpet.

Where is everyone? What’s going on? Why can’t I hear anything?

Whatever air was inside the cocoon, she’d used it up. The edges of her vision were growing dark. She closed her eyes so she couldn’t see the creeping blackness.

Her breath came in thick, wheezing gasps.

And then stopped.