Sharon Ashwood - Unchained

Reynard’s portal wobbled and slowly began to fold in on itself, the disk of burning energy collapsing like a wilted flower.

Holly caught the church, held it over her head, and danced backward. “Hey, you! Over here!”

But Tony couldn’t be distracted anymore. He was clearly fighting exile to the Castle—fighting and winning. Reynard swore. A portal was hard enough to maintain without a demon trying to slam it shut. He could feel the other guardsmen beyond the opening, doing what they could to help, but Reynard was the strongest.

Not strong enough, at least not this time. The collector demon might not be as powerful as a soul eater or a fire demon, but it was still hellspawn. There would be no quiet surrender.

Reynard let the portal go, dropping his arms as it swirled shut.

They needed to regroup.

He knew from experience that demons were more often caught through persistence than force. Backing off now wasn’t defeat, just the beginning of a testing process. Reynard would find the creature’s weakness. He was the captain of the Castle guard. Fighting monsters was what he did.

He wiped his hands on his jeans, getting ready for the next round. A perverse part of him was enjoying the challenge—but he was tired. Being near the urn wasn’t enough. He needed to find it and get back to the Castle.

That was the last place he wanted to go. Then again, he might not make it there. An end was coming either way, but Reynard couldn’t afford to think about that right now.

The thing that had been Tony the bookseller opened huge, fanged jaws and screeched like a banshee, the sound rattling bones and teeth. The sour stink of demon magic rolled through the store as it stretched nightmare wings.

Huge and dark, the demon swelled to fill the front of the store, its shadow creeping across the ceiling like an advancing tide. The air grew dark, as if the lights were fading. In the false twilight, there seemed to be nothing to breathe, the air itself robbed of vitality.

Holly threw a ball of energy. The dark tide shrank back, but only for a moment. She turned and bolted down the aisle, the miniature church under her arm. With a huge rush of air, the demon flapped its wings and launched into the air, sailing after her like inevitable doom.

Reynard charged forward to intervene, but it was too late. No sooner had Holly’s feet touched the tiles of the main mall than the demon grabbed her shoulder in its beak, plucking her into the air.

Reynard lunged for her. Holly’s hand brushed his, but couldn’t catch hold. The miniature church fell from her grip, exploding into a rain of stinging shards as it smashed to the floor. They scattered with an oddly musical sound.

With a snarl, Alessandro sprang, sword ready for a two-handed blow. The bound took him ten feet in the air, using the vampire’s power of levitation. As the silver blade arced through the air, the demon faded into mist. Holly dropped like a stone, but Alessandro caught her in one arm, holding her as they landed.

Reynard kept his eyes on the demon. It spun, winding itself to a long rope of black mist, and threaded itself between the plain doors across the mall marked, STAIRWAY TO PARKING. His first instinct was to storm after it, but a jolt of panic pushed everything else aside.

Where was Ashe?

Ashe sat bolt upright with a rasping gasp, nearly colliding with Reynard’s concerned face. Someone had rolled her over and pulled the paper off her face. She was mummified in drawings of baskets, chicks, and bunnies. “Get. This. Off of me!”

Three pairs of hands began unwrapping her. Holly was to her left, Alessandro at her feet. The vampire gave her a look from under his brows, amber eyes amused.

“It’s not funny!” Ashe snapped.

“You look like an Easter egg,” he replied, all suave calm.

“I thought you had smothered,” Reynard growled, deadly serious. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” Ashe said automatically. She was panting, trying to catch up on lost oxygen. Her head hurt—but she wasn’t broken or bleeding, so that made her fit for duty.

Reynard’s expression said he understood her need to fight.

Ashe shook off the last of her wrappings and clambered to her feet. The card store looked like a snowstorm had hit it. Drifts of pastel paper covered the floor, but at least they were mercifully lifeless. I’m sending e-cards from now on.

“The demon headed for the stairs down to the parking area,” said Reynard. “My suggestion is that the trip downstairs is a diversion. Sooner or later, it will return to its hoard. We can trap it there.”

Alessandro nodded. “Got it.”

“I’m just afraid Tony’s gone back to human form and driven away already,” Ashe said.

“Not with those sirens going,” Alessandro put in. “The police are cordoning the place off. We’ve got about two minutes before they find us here.”

Ashe checked her weapon. “Then let’s get to it.”

Alessandro took Holly’s hand and strode toward the store entrance, cards kicking up around his feet like autumn leaves. Ashe and Reynard followed.

By the time Ashe and Reynard reached the main mall corridor, police and reporters were everywhere. From the corner of her eye, she saw Gary, the bookstore clerk, trying to shoo some of the reporters back out the front door. It was a lost cause. The press had found a breach in whatever official barrier had kept them out, and the whole notion of security had collapsed like a paper bag full of water.

“What is this?” Reynard snapped, raising his voice to be heard above the babble of voices.

Ashe dragged him from the path of a determined-looking woman brandishing a mic. “Welcome to your first modern disaster scene. Smile for the cameras.”

The city had only three TV stations and a handful of radio stations, but there seemed to be more press than that. Of course, police officers, firefighters, paramedics, mall management, and what looked like the health department added to the fun.

She also saw hellhounds, werewolves, and some groggy-looking vamps she knew by sight. Alessandro must have called in his troops.

Ashe had lost track of her sister. She elbowed through the crowd, which was growing thicker as they neared the demon’s hoard. She couldn’t see Alessandro, either. Growing less and less polite, Reynard began clearing a path. She had to admit, there was something about pure male aggression that worked like a charm when it came to managing a milling crowd.

An invisible line held the crowd back a dozen feet from the demon’s lair. Still too close for common sense, but at least no one was sticking a tape recorder into the demon’s beak. The hounds and wolves were moving forward, helping the cops move everyone back. Ashe shoved through to the front, ignoring the curses raining down on her from the cameramen as she spoiled their shots.

The demon was looming in the corner of the empty store, wings spread wide, black eyes glistening like something wet and foul. For the moment, it was pinned down. Holly and Alessandro crouched behind piles of the demon’s shopping, Holly zapping the hellspawn whenever it tried to move, Alessandro protecting her from the objects the demon sent spinning their way.

Reynard ran forward in a crouch, ducking a set of copper-bottomed pots sailing through the air.

Ashe hurried after him, thinking hard. There was nothing she could do to beat up this demon. She was strong and a good fighter, but this needed high magic, and she had none. A sick feeling bubbled up in her, expanding to fill every cell to bursting with acid knowledge that she had once had that power and thrown it away.

Reynard was opening the portal again. It hovered over their heads, swirling energies of green and orange. The edges of it seemed burned, reality melting away like film caught in a projector. Ashe thought she caught a glimpse of Mac on the other side, ready with his men.