Sharon Ashwood - Unchained

Showing off to Reynard would be oddly thrilling.

She was in and out of the store in five minutes. They reached their destination around quarter past eight. Grandma Carver, retired witch and family matriarch, lived in a seniors’ complex. The Golden Swans balanced independent living with just enough care to keep the residents healthy and safe. Grandma had raised Ashe and Holly after the death of their parents. They had all lived in the family home, but Grandma had moved to the Swans about five years ago, when her arthritis made climbing up and down a three-story Victorian too much of a challenge.

Of course, Ashe suspected the real reason for the move was the Swans’ avid bridge community. More gambling went on there than in Atlantic City, and Grandma rarely lost.

They took the elevator—another first for Reynard—up the east tower and knocked on Grandma’s door. She usually left it unlocked, but not this time. Rampaging vampires got even her attention. The door opened as far as the chain would let it, a sliver of Grandma’s apple-doll face showing through the crack.

“Ah, it’s you,” she said. The door closed, chain rattled, and it opened fully this time.

“Hey, G-ma.” Ashe had to bend down to hug her. These days, her grandmother barely came up to her chin. Ashe noticed that now there was more white than gray in the older woman’s long ponytail.

“Who is this cupcake?” Grandma said as Ashe released her.

Ashe rolled her eyes. “This is Captain Reynard. Hands off.”

“I’d say he looks old enough to look after himself. It’s good to share, darling.”

“I’m enchanted to make your acquaintance, madam,” Reynard said, setting the bag of groceries he was carrying beside the door. He bowed over Grandma’s hand, obviously thrilling her right out of her orthopedic sneakers.

He shot both women a devilish look. Grandma’s cheeks turned pink. Ashe wondered if hers did, too.

“Then come on in. No point in letting the neighbors get jealous.” Grandma Carver gestured for them to follow her inside. She walked with two canes, and she used both to thump her way across the floor. Ashe winced, hoping her downstairs neighbor was hard of hearing.

The one-bedroom apartment was pin-neat and smelled of cigarettes. The decor was a nostalgic mix of old-fashioned chintz, mahogany, and crocheted antimacassars. Grandma’s decorating sense was the only demure thing about her.

“Ashe, where’ve you been hiding this one?” Grandma demanded. “One hello and I need a smoke.”

“Sit, Grandma,” Ashe commanded. “I brought dessert.”

“Allow me.” Reynard guided Grandma to the table.

“Oh, Ashe, honey, keep him around. Just for me?”

Ashe wanted to crawl under the couch. “Grandma!”

Reynard winked.

“Agh!” Ashe picked up the groceries from the hallway and headed into the kitchen. Her grandmother was wise, dedicated to their witch heritage, and loved them all fiercely, but sometimes she was also a big, fat pain.

“Mom!” Eden bounced into the room like a yo-yo, completely forgetting her dignity. She was always happiest around Grandma. “Whatcha bring?”

“Nanaimo bars. Sorry to be so long. What were you doing while you were waiting?”

“Reading. Let me get plates.”

“Thanks, Eden.”

“We did some basic meditation exercises today,” Grandma said, her voice heavy with theatrical significance. “Eden is a young witch showing every sign that she’s going to get her powers very soon.”

“Cool.” Ashe was proud and filled with maternal dread at the same time.

Her grandmother’s look said that she knew exactly what she was thinking. “Ashe, did you notice that Eden and I are twins today?”

Eden carried the plates to the table and stood next to Grandma, draping one arm around the older woman’s shoulder. They both wore black sweatpants and hot-pink T-shirts. The only difference was Grandma’s orange cardigan, which featured a fleet of chopper motorcycles done in crewelwork around the hem.

Ashe grinned. “Nice sweater.”

“I thought it made a statement. Gray power rules.”

“Very colorful,” Reynard added uncertainly.

Ashe finished making introductions. Eden was polite. Dessert was served. Reynard declined anything but water.

“Have you heard from Holly today?” Ashe asked Grandma.

“I talked to her on the phone. Little Robin is fine. Alessandro stopped by on his way downtown. I told him what you told me on the phone about your vampire at the library. He said he’d look into it.”

“Mac will be interested to learn of this,” Reynard put in. “It puts an entirely new layer on the assassination attempt.”

Ashe put down her fork. The rich, sugary dessert—brownie, custard, and a thick layer of dark chocolate—curdled in her empty stomach. “Just add one more strangeness onto a big, steaming pile of weird.”

Eden excused herself to return to the living room and her book.

Grandma leaned over and whispered to Ashe, “She was asking about her grandparents again today. Soon you’re going to have to tell her what happened, before she finds out on her own.”

“I know,” Ashe whispered back, feeling old, familiar guilt.

“Soon.” The older woman gave her a significant look. “So what else is up?”

Ashe got down to business. “I was hoping you could offer some insights. There are a few things going on.”

Grandma fidgeted. She obviously wanted a cigarette but refused to smoke around Eden or Robin. “Okay, hit me. What’s up?”

“For starters, we need to find an artifact that was stolen from the Castle,” Ashe said.

“You’re looking for a spell to find lost objects?”

“Stolen by a demon,” said Reynard. “My guess is that the object would be shielded from ordinary location spells.”

Grandma blinked in surprise. “Have you talked to Lore? If there’s a black, gray, or even slightly dingy market in Fairview, the hellhounds seem to know about it.”

“You think talking to him would be better than using a spell?” Ashe asked.

“Cast a spell and the thief, if he’s any kind of a magic user himself, will know you’re looking for him. Sometimes simple is safest.”

“Good point.” Ashe looked at Reynard. “I know where Lore works. I’ll try to set something up first thing tomorrow morning.”

Grandma leaned back in her chair. “So what’s the object? What’s going on?”

Ashe and Reynard shared a look.

“Where do we start?” Ashe said.

Grandma huffed. “I don’t much care. Spill, or forget any more free advice.”

They explained who Reynard was, and then filled her in, starting with the rabbit, carrying on through the lawyer’s demon problem and the theft of the urn, and finishing with the death of Frederick Lloyd, the vampire in the library. The news that he was the King of the East’s emissary, and that the king wanted an heir, made her grandmother’s face pucker with anxiety.

“My Goddess.” Grandma refilled her coffee cup. The gesture looked automatic, like she needed something to do with her hands. “Just because Holly and Alessandro had Robin, are vampires suddenly going to want kids of their own?”

“Only some of them,” said Ashe dryly. “Lloyd let something slip about other vampires considering daddyhood to be an abomination. That’s the same term the sniper in the gardens used.”

Reynard looked grim. “You think the sniper, or whoever hired him, planned to prevent any future children by killing you?”

“Is Holly in danger as well?” Grandma snapped, although the answer was obvious.

Cold dread snaked around Ashe’s limbs. If Omara, the local vamp queen, heard about the King of the East’s messenger, she would freak. There’d be monster politics raining all over everyone. Fairview would become a kill zone. They had to take care of this before her fangship found out.