Unchained, the Dark Forgotten (2010) (25 page)

Bannerman’s eyelids fluttered, and then he broke as easily as the yoke of a half-cooked egg. “He—it—wanted a store. He got one.”

Hashimoto’s eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? You cut a deal with a demon? I didn’t even know you did real estate.”

Bannerman twitched. “Just a bit of a sideline from wills, divorce settlements, that sort of thing.”

Ashe gave the stake a shove, just enough to dent his skin. “Why, Mr. Bannerman, did you put me needlessly at risk?”

“Risk? Everyone knows how powerful a hunter you are. Your sister killed a demon queen, after all. You have everyone afraid.”

“Who is
everyone
?”

Bannerman didn’t answer.

Impatient, Ashe tried again. “Why not ask me to simply go exorcise the bookstore owner at Fort and Main?”

Her prey was sweating, rivulets running down his temples. “I couldn’t. I wanted to. I want him gone. I just . . . couldn’t.”

“Easygoing Tony has you running scared, eh?”

“He—it—made it so that I can’t say more.”

“It put you under a compulsion?”

“Yes!”

Ashe swore. Probably the moment Bannerman had started to deal with the demon, old Tony had made the lawyer his unwilling flunky.

Hashimoto looked fascinated. “Did you sell it any other properties?”

Bannerman was turning red. “I can’t say!”

Which meant he had. A negative answer would have been straightforward.

“Where?” Ashe demanded.

Bannerman made a sound between a choke and a quack.

“That’s too obvious,” Hashimoto said, coming out of his seat and around the table. “The demon would have thought of
where
.” He rubbed his nose, a nervous gesture, but his eyes were alight with an almost gleeful interest. Ashe could picture him in the courtroom, winding up to question a witness.

Hashimoto leaned over Bannerman, his face inches from Ashe’s. “
What kind
of places did the demon want?”

Bannerman’s eyes flicked from face to face, fear rolling off him like a fog. “A place for its collections.”

Ashe fell back a step, jolted by his words. “Collections?”

Hashimoto looked up. “That mean something to you?”

“Yeah.” The lawyer’s demon, Holly’s client, and the thief who took Reynard’s urn were all the same creature. Reynard was right. Everything was connected, but they were only starting to see the big picture.

Another thought lit up like a neon sign: Hadn’t Holly said collector demons were hoarders? That would explain the congested mess the bookshop had been in.

She fell back another step.
But if the demon has more than one property, where’s the urn?

Sound burst from the front office, including the shrill complaint of the receptionist. The door slammed open, Reynard’s shoulders filling the doorway. “Mr. Bannerman’s associates have questions. I thought you would prefer that I didn’t actually maim them.”

The moment Ashe looked away from Bannerman, he launched himself from the chair, knocking Hashimoto aside. He wasn’t a fighter, but he was heavy. Distracted, Ashe didn’t see the tackle until he grabbed her. She dropped the stake to avoid driving it into his gut. After all, she hadn’t really meant to kill him.

But he bowled her over until her head smacked on the edge of the desk. She went down, ears ringing. Then, for a split second, everything went black.

Bannerman’s weight shifted away and she heard Reynard ordering people around. He had that tone that made people pay attention. After a struggle, Ashe blinked her eyes open, feeling queasy. Bannerman’s voice drifted from the front office, full of anger, but she couldn’t focus on the words.

She sat up carefully. She wondered how much time had passed, because now she was alone in the office except for Hashimoto. He held out a paper cup, the type that came from a watercooler. His dark eyes looked worried. “Drink this.”

What does hitting your head have to do with being thirsty?
She drank the water anyway and gave him back the cup. Gripping the edge of the desk, she got to her feet.

Reynard came back in and closed the office door to shut out the noise. He put a hand on her arm. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Thanks for dealing with the natives.”

He looked satisfied with himself, and the smile he gave her was pure deviltry. “The senior partner assures me there will be no legal action against you for assaulting their colleague. Bannerman’s poor judgment in clientele is enough of an embarrassment to the firm for them to keep this altercation quiet.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard so far today.” She took his hand, squeezing it and wishing they were alone so she could kiss him. “Guess I need a new lawyer, though.”

“Not necessarily,” said Hashimoto. “Custody settlements can be mediated.”

Ashe squinted at him. For a moment she’d forgotten he was there. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “If both parties agree, a mediator can help them come to an arrangement without going to court. It takes conflict off the table and focuses on a plan everyone can live with.”

Ashe opened her mouth to speak, but Hashimoto held up a hand. “I know this isn’t the time to talk, but let me say this much. The de Larrochas don’t like your lifestyle, but they’re more upset about not getting to see their granddaughter because she’s not in Spain anymore. If you cut them a deal on visitation, I think they’d back off on the unfit-mother routine.”

A ping of surprise made her frown. “I never said they couldn’t see Eden. I just want her living with me.”

Hashimoto handed Ashe his card. “I can’t see how an adversarial court case is going to help either of you. As for you, Ms. Carver, you’ve got too many strikes against you as far as a traditional judge is concerned.”

He bobbed the card in the air, urging her to take it. “Call me if you want to talk about alternatives. Mediation isn’t necessarily a walk in the park, but it’s your best option.”

Ashe took it. “Aren’t you doing yourself out of a job?”

“I’ve mediated for clients before, and I’d rather have a reputation as a problem solver than a shark. Plus, I’ve wanted to kick Bannerman’s ass for years.” He gave a toothy smile that made him look a lot less sophisticated. “I’d have paid to see that.”

Ashe put his number in her pocket. “Thanks.”

“Nah,” he said, packing up his slim attaché case, “the pleasure was entirely mine.”

Hashimoto gave a casual salute and left the office.

A
she pulled into her driveway. The house looked quiet, as if all the neighbors were out. By the front fence, tulips shivered in the fitful wind, their pinks and yellows almost painfully bright in the gloom. As they got out of the SUV, Ashe pondered Reynard’s quest. Or really, their quest. Everything led back to the collector demon. At least she didn’t have to feel guilty anymore about taking Reynard away from his mission. Their enemies were the same.

Reynard stood contemplating the flowers as if he hadn’t seen anything blooming for centuries. Maybe he hadn’t. With his hair loose and damp, she could see a chestnut tinge in the waves. It softened his face, except for the eyes kept secret behind sunglasses, even though it had started to drizzle.

“What now?” he asked, clasping his hands behind his back.

She kept her voice businesslike, as if she didn’t want to bury her fingers in that hair. “We need to strategize, but first I have to clean up.”

“I should do the same.”

“Do you want to come in?”

“My clean clothes are in the Castle.”

The statement was simple, but nuances lingered underneath his clipped tone, taking her back to the gym that morning. To the memory of his crushing her between his body and the mirror. She shivered, disappointed and relieved that she wouldn’t be trying to shower and change with him there. Her brain could sure do Technicolor when it needed to. Hot running water, soap suds, and Reynard was a combination akin to a tsunami. It would wipe everything else off the map.

“Come find me when you’re done. We’ve got a lot to talk about.” She turned and walked away, leaving him standing beside the flower bed.

If she didn’t, she was going to jump him right there.

“This is a CSUP news bulletin.

“There is a fire in the twelve hundred block of Fort Street. Traffic near the Fort and Main intersection has been blocked off by police. Motorists are asked to take alternate routes through the downtown.

“The Book Burrow, formerly known as Cowan’s Books, is engulfed in flames. Fire crews are concentrating on containment. Neighboring businesses are in no immediate danger, but that could change at any time. Due to the extreme nature of the blaze, which seems to have begun in the attic, firefighters have not been able to enter the building or search for survivors. However, arson is suspected.

“Cowan’s Books, a Fairview institution, had been in that location since 1965. It was recently sold to new owners after the death of the previous owner, William Cowan.

“We will provide updates as more information becomes available.”

Ashe switched off the radio, a rock in her stomach. Spilled oil. Candle. Attic. She finished toweling off from the shower, put on a robe, and then phoned Holly. More and more, she was calling her sister when she needed to talk something out.

“How’s Eden?”

“Enjoying spaghetti, meatballs, and television.”

“No wonder she loves going to your place. Thanks again for looking after her. I know you’re swamped.”

“Not a problem. She’s actually not a bad little baby-sitter.”

Ashe felt an almost irrational pride in her daughter.
Way to go, Eden
. Then her mind flipped into business mode. “Hey, you hear about the fire?”

“Yeah.”

Ashe hunched, feeling the loss of her childhood bookstore like a physical pain. “I think I might have started it. I spilled the extra oil you sent. I left the candle burning when I had to run.”

“I don’t know if that’s enough to make a blaze that hot.” Holly sounded doubtful. “There was a lot of magic going on. That can change things. Plus, that place is stuffed with old paper.”

“Oh, Hol, all those old books. I
loved
that place.”

“At least we’re sure that poor little-girl ghost is freed.”

“What if the urn was in there?”

“Did Reynard say anything about feeling it?”

“No.”

“Then probably not.”

Ashe was silent for a moment. “I burned down Mr. Cowan’s bookstore.”

Holly’s voice dropped to her special talking-Asheoff-the-ledge tone. “You don’t know that. The demon might have done something. If he tried to shut down the spell, that might have made something go wrong. Don’t jump to conclusions. You went there to cleanse the store. Maybe this is how it had to happen.”

Ashe was silent. If only demons burned as easily as vampires, but the Tony demon would still be out there, and now it would be pissed.

Before Ashe could dwell on that horrific idea, Holly brought up something else. “Alessandro’s going to meet Lore down there as soon as it’s full dark. Lore’s hounds were guarding the place when it went up, but from the sound of it, they didn’t see anything. Sandro’s going to check the place over for himself.”

Ashe looked out the window at the fading light. “Alessandro’s leaving you and the kids on your own?”

“I’m not helpless, Ashe. Plus we’ve got more hellhounds digging up the flower beds outside.”

Ashe smiled at her sister’s disgusted tone. “You don’t mind keeping the kiddo a bit longer?”

“Let her stay overnight. It’s safe here. No vampires. No demons. You should come stay, too.”

“Thanks, Hol, but I’ve got to meet with Reynard. Did your esteemed vamp- in-residence find out anything about the visiting fangsters?”

“He’s got the locals out looking, but so far no joy.”

“Damn.”

“It won’t take long to find out where they’re staying. Vamps are territorial, so the natives are motivated. So, what’s with you and Reynard?”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Ashe could tell she sounded grumpy.

“Yeah, right. You like each other.”

“Sure we do. That’s it. There’s way too much going on to complicate things.”

“Too bad. I mean, the guy’ll probably get out of the Castle only this once. Someone should show him a good time.”

Ashe laughed, but it sounded forced. “He’s got no soul. I’m so over men like that.”

“Well, we’re only talking a couple of nights here at most.”

“He deserves more than a pity fuck. And don’t talk about him like that.” Ashe bit off the next thing she was going to say, bewildered by her sharp response. “Sorry. His situation’s gotten to me.”