Unchained, the Dark Forgotten (2010) (39 page)

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.”