Unchained

Chapter 21

Ashe walked through the graveyard, part of her brain worrying about where she could buy two dozen chocolate cupcakes on a Monday night because she’d been so wrapped up in the call, she hadn’t heard the oven timer. Holly had pulled two pans of charcoal briquettes from the oven, the pink crinkle cups lightly smoking. How late does Safeway stay open?

The rest of her was in slayer mode, alert to the rustling night. She could hear the ocean to the south, just at the bottom of the cliff. The slow roll of waves on the shore would cover a lot of stealthy sounds. Ashe strained her ears, trying to hear past the water and the wind in the trees.

Belenos and no doubt his underlings were somewhere nearby. She could feel the tingle of vampire energy dancing on her skin.

She hadn’t come alone. Reynard and the hounds had spread out through the cemetery, keeping watch. The thought eased the pinch of tension in her neck just a little. Once upon a time, she would have been happy to walk into a trap just to prove she could beat it. Not anymore. She had too much to lose.

She wasn’t just a slayer. Ashe had known that since she came back to Fairview, but in the last few days she’d come to understand that fact on an emotional level. It was more than having an overfilled date book.

She was a mom with cupcake problems, a lover with someone to look after. She had a job—fortunately, the library had called her that morning to say she was forgiven for getting vampire all over the carpet—and she was part of her family and community as a whole. Grandma had been right: It was time to embrace all the roles she played. To appreciate approaching life with the laundry basket in one hand and a stake in the other.

Whatever. She’d have to work on that metaphor. The bottom line was that she felt the chaos all those job titles implied, but it made her somehow complete. She wasn’t just a finely crafted weapon. She was a person who mattered to other people.

That gave her strength. She picked up the pace of her stride. It was a beautiful night for a hunt. Especially when she was after the vampire who’d dared to touch her daughter.

Colt in one hand, she followed the path that led around a stand of trees and approached her parents’ graves. The ocean was louder here, the crash of water on rocks an insistent exclamation.

She stopped.

Belenos was already waiting. Instead of a ball of light, this time he’d brought a long torch. It thrust from the soft loam beneath a trio of huge cedars. Ashe wondered if he’d swiped the torch from the Castle.

The oblique light dazzled on the baubles in his Titian hair, molten gold caught in a flood of silky fire. He was dressed for travel: Windbreaker, twill pants, and baggy cashmere sweater. The sight of him put Ashe’s every muscle on alert. He was pretty, but then, so was a cobra.

She mentally measured the distance between them, making sure there was a healthy patch of ground between her flesh and his fangs.

“Thank you for seeing me,” he said. “I notice you brought your guardsman along. Does he object to waiting on the sidelines?”

“He knows there are some things a mother has to do.”

“Well, I brought friends to keep him and his dogs busy while we chat.”

Ashe felt a prickle of anxiety, but she knew she didn’t have to worry about Reynard. He’d proved to her he could look after himself.

“Do you plan to kill me?” Belenos asked, his voice like hot satin.

She felt the pull of it, but shook it off. This wasn’t a dream now, where she could be so easily seduced. “I’m sure as hell going to teach you a lesson.”

“Really?” he said, pulling something from his pocket.

“No sudden moves, Red.” Ashe raised the Colt. “Silver bullets. They’ll sting for sure.” Her tone said they’d do a whole lot more.

Slowly, he raised the object in his hand. “Chocolate bunny?”

Ashe narrowed her eyes. “I suddenly find myself on a diet.”

“Bad associations?”

“Was it you who tried to shoot me?”

He was as still as a wax figure, finely sculpted and utterly dead. “I did not send the assassin, my lovely huntress. I want you very much alive.”

“Then why the rabbit theme? The stuffed toy, now this?”

Belenos returned the candy to his pocket. The breeze rippled the sleeve of his Windbreaker. “Because it is a symbol of threat and a reminder of your unknown enemy. If it frightens you a little, that’s useful to me. But let me assure you someone else hired that goblin to release the phouka.”

“Why?”

“To draw you out. You’re the great monster scourge. What better way to lay a trap than by giving you a great monster to chase?”

Ashe digested that a moment. Somewhere in the darkness, one of the hounds gave a deep, bell-like howl.

Belenos spread his hands. “Don’t you see? You’re the famous Ashe Carver, a witch who kills with a stake instead of a spell for the pure, bloody thrill of thrusting through flesh and bone. Your reputation has little monsterlings shaking in their beds. Not only can you take out a clan of vampires single-handed, but everyone believes that you are as magically gifted your sister. She destroyed a demon queen and bore a vampire’s child. Who can allow such power to roam unchecked?”

Obviously, Belenos couldn’t. Not without wanting it for himself.

“But it’s not true. I don’t have any magical ability to speak of.”

“Most people don’t know that. You’ve made no effort to contradict the rumors.” He gave a cold smile. “It is only natural that a freshly released demon would do his best to remove a threat like you from his new territory.”

“Damn.”

The smile fell into a twist of disgust. “Of course, my double-crossing thief was too cowardly to face you himself. I understand he got that lawyer of his to make the arrangements. Bannerman has contacts in the supernatural community who hired both the goblin and the assassin.”

“Huh.” Ashe tightened the grip on the Colt, feeling oddly blank. Her ex-lawyer had paid good money to end her life, and had actually been a bit creative, with the phouka and all. “Well, thanks for the heads-up. The lawyer’s already on my to-do list, but that kicks up the urgency a notch.”

She’d be outraged later, but right now her mind was in overdrive. She wondered whether Holly had been included in the assassin’s contract, and if Bannerman had any other hit men on his speed dial.

Belenos gave something between a nod and a bow. “As I said, it is in my best interests for you to remain alive. At least for the time being.”

Ashe exhaled slowly, forcing herself to be just as calm as the vampire appeared. She didn’t trust him in the role of helpful informant. Logic said he was luring her to drop her guard.

That didn’t mean she wouldn’t pump him for information. “One thing I don’t understand. The assassin chose to die rather than talk. Bannerman’s just not that scary.”

“Have you met Mr. Yarndice in his demonic form?”

Ashe remembered the thing in the bookshop. “Got it.”

Another howl curled upward to the cloud-shrouded moon. A human cry of rage followed. Ashe forced herself to stay focused on the vampire. Forced herself to trust in her partner.

Belenos’s lips moved in a smile that didn’t touch the rest of his face. Utterly mechanical. Utterly horrific. “Now perhaps we can get down to discussing your terms of surrender?”

Rage zinged through her. “The only thing getting surrendered here is the Castle key you’ve got. Then you’re getting on a plane back east with a magically binding oath that you’ll never, ever come back.”

“Is that so?” He took a step forward, which made her take a step back.

“The only reason I haven’t splattered your brains all over these gravestones is because killing a king means war. War between the vampire kingdoms would make bad headlines.”

He shifted his weight, obviously preparing to move closer. “So hostile. So outraged. It thrills me.”

Her stomach ached with tension. He was going to do this the hard way. With her left hand, she pulled a stake out of her thigh pocket. “Let me make this simple. Stay away from my child.”

“I shall if you come to me willingly,” he said in a soft voice. In the flickering light of the torch, he looked like an old master’s painting, his features outlined by stark shadow. “You belong to the dead. I would still have you as my queen. You are”—he paused—“magnificent.”

Ashe felt her eyes widen as she struggled not to snort out a laugh. “Thanks. I’m over the whole broody thing. I’m thinking pastel bike leathers.”

Belenos raised a hand, as if beckoning. “Come now; would you turn your back on your essential nature? You belong with the dark.”

Ashe felt his power crawl over her like some chitinous beast. She thought she’d brushed aside his attempt at controlling her. Now she realized he’d been holding back. Belenos was old. A king of vampires. He might be Fruit Loops crazy, but he was no lightweight. She closed her eyes, because to meet his gaze would be a terrible mistake. Vamps, if they were good enough, could hypnotize as easily as they breathed.

Perhaps that was what he’d been waiting for. She could feel rather than hear him drawing closer. He seemed to absorb the energy from the air around him, the weight of his magic blotting out the life in the night wind. She swayed slightly from keeping her eyes closed, but trusted her senses to tell her exactly how close he was.

Any slayer worth her salt knew how to fight blind.

He was waiting for an answer, so she gave one. “I liked the dark because it hid the stains on my soul. But now I’m coming to accept that people forgive my past. It’s spring. I’m in love, and with a living guy to boot.”

“Ticktock. Reynard still does not have his soul.”

Ashe concentrated on a cramp that was forming from holding the gun so still. Pain would help her keep her focus. “Yeah, the urn’s still missing. Which means you don’t have your supernatural Viagra.”

“Perhaps we don’t need it. I could teach you to love me. You could Choose me.”

“And what drugs are you on?”

He was close now, drawing closer. A predator ready to pounce. “Perhaps I could heal your powers. You could be the witch you once were.”

It was the one thing he should never have said.

Ashe opened her eyes. He was mere feet away, deadly close. She curled her lip. “You’re such a waste of space.”

Ashe pulled the trigger.

Belenos flew back, arms splayed in a graceful arc. He was a large male. The force of the bullet didn’t take him too far, but he toppled with a crash worthy of one of the great cedars sheltering the graves. A circle of dark blood bloomed on his chest, black in the torchlight.

Ashe switched weapons, now grasping the stake in her right hand, the gun in her left. One bullet wouldn’t kill a vampire this old, unless it ripped through his spine. She was counting on it knocking him cold for a good eight hours.

She stood before the fallen vampire, their boots nearly touching. “By the way, I’m not an idiot. My brother-in-law brought along two dozen of his closest friends to mop up your henchmen. The fun and games are over, Red.”

Eight hours should be long enough for the local vamps to take the Eastern vamps to Queen Omara. The monarch of the Northwestern territories could punish Belenos in ways no witch or mortal could dream of, and all within the letter of the vampire laws.

She wished she could watch.

Ashe knelt over Belenos, pressing the point of the stake over his heart. He looked like he was out cold, his hair strewn around him like an exotic mane, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

The bullet hole was a little to the right, just where she’d wanted it. Not quite a killing shot. Ashe could smell raw meat. That would be where the custom silver-coated slug had torn its way out his back, making a big mess along the way. Cruel, but if you tangled with a vampire like Belenos, you had to mean business.

She heard footsteps, and recognized Reynard’s tread. “I’ve got him,” she said. “What about the others?”

“They’ve been dealt with. Do you want me to search for the key?”

“Please.”

Reynard knelt on the other side of the fallen vampire.

“Do you think others vampires will show up, wanting children?” she asked.

“According to Caravelli, Queen Omara will make it clear what a bad idea that would be.”

“Good.”

He began fishing in the vampire’s pants pockets, and pulled out a small gold disk. It bore a six- pointed sun. Their gazes locked, Reynard’s eyes grim, as he gave it to her. “Are you all right?”

“Sure. I just did what any mother in my place would have done.”

Early the next morning, Ashe’s hacker contact finally called back, but only to report that he had no leads on any properties recently purchased by Anthony Yarndice. He’d tried every search known to hackerdom and then some. Bannerman, however, seemed to be constantly buying estates and selling them at a profit. He gave Ashe three addresses the lawyer had purchased in the last six weeks.

Ashe had just gotten out of the shower. Reynard was still in the bathroom, discovering the joys of a massaging showerhead. “Yeah, okay,” she said into the phone, trying to write and adjust the towel wrapped around her hair at the same time. “Thanks, bud.”

She wrote down the last address and hung up. Bingo! Ashe did a victory dance, losing the towel in the process.

Reynard appeared in the bedroom doorway and watched the performance with speculative interest.

“What is it?”

“A hit! A palpable hit!”

Reynard raised an eyebrow.

Ashe waved the notepaper with the addresses. “Bannerman bought three properties. One location corresponds with the demon-tracking spell Holly cooked up last night. We have Tony’s new location.”

Reynard’s eyes turned a cold silver. “Where?”

“North Central Shopping Mall. Where you met me at the library.”

Reynard picked up Ashe’s towel and handed it back to her. “Well, my dear, then let’s go check it out.”

“Har, har,” she said. “I hate librarian jokes. You know that, right?”

He gave her a look that mixed mischief and affection. “Why else would I make one?”