by Curtis, Greg
Last he threw in a couple of boxes of muesli bars from the cupboards into the bag – there was something about being beaten up that made him feel hungry – and grabbed the keys from the bowl by the entrance. They were still there. The police hadn't used a key to break down his door.
Having got everything he needed it was time to go. The entire stop had taken five minutes at most. Even so he worried that it had taken too long. Walking down the corridor to the lift, past the three crime scene examiners who were standing there waiting for instructions from the phone one of them was holding, he knew police would be on their way. Although there might not be many police to spare – the city was in an uproar. Still, James knew that the captain would have to make the shoot out a priority. He'd heard the latest reports on the radio as he'd been driven home. Seven dead, a dozen more badly injured. All of them cops. And now the guy who was ground zero for this entire nightmare was walking away just when they thought he was safely locked away in the hospital? There would probably be a lot of cops coming.
So James did his best to hurry past them, not even favouring them with a look. It wasn't easy though. The pain killers he'd been given were starting to wear off. Still, when he reached the lift he turned back and politely told them to lock up his apartment when they were done. The building was relatively secure and it wasn't as if he had a lot to lose, but even so he wanted to be sure.
In the garage his car was waiting for him, and it felt good to be able to sink into the comfort of its deep leather seats. James was glad for once that it wasn't one of the sportier models with their harder racing seats. He'd always wanted one, but not just then.
After that it was just a matter of hitting the road and making some calls. He had people to protect. Though the banshee had many people to attack, he was her prime target. Soo Chi would be coming for him, and she would do it by coming after the ones he loved. He understood that much about her. In that way she was exactly like his brother. She used people. They both did. That was their truest nature and what made fascinators of all types so dangerous. People were nothing to them save as a means to an end. And once they had served their purpose the fascinators had no difficulty disposing of them.
James began with the Liberty Academy, calling the principal and making sure she understood the danger they were facing. He had no doubt that the banshee would realise his daughter was his greatest vulnerability. Everyone in the office knew he had a daughter, and half of them probably knew where she went to school. She had to be protected.
Luckily the school was well protected. It had wards all across its grounds, just in case. The wards were mainly there for the students. New witches and wizards just growing into their gifts and no doubt thinking to cause mischief with them had to be controlled. But what would protect against a child's magic would work just as well against another's – he hoped.
Next he called his parents and warned them. They were probably safer living out of state, but there was no point in taking chances. That was a difficult conversation. It was always difficult talking to them. They were burdened with so much guilt and shame for what they'd done – even though they'd had no choice. Francis had controlled them from an early age. And James was burdened with the same thing. For having been a cop and yet having known nothing of what was happening.
The truest tragedy of it all was that if they'd simply told him about Francis and the world of magic it could all have been fixed long before it had become what it had. The family could have been warded. His brother could have been taken into care. No one would have had to have been hurt. But they hadn't. At first they had stayed clear of the Illuminati, choosing not to be registered because they considered them big brother. They had been hippies at heart. And then when Francis had grown into his gifts and learned about them, it had been too late. He had made certain they would never tell.
There was a rhyme he had heard long ago about a war being lost because of a missing horse shoe nail. That was their nail.
Still, it wouldn't happen again. Not a second time. No damned banshee was going to control them or anyone else in his family. They could get down to their local Illuminati hall and be warded.
Last he called the prison where his brother was locked away. He had no love for Francis, only anger, but he knew that if she had no one else, Soo Chi would go after him. And in that case he wanted to be prepared. The chances were that she would try to use Francis' knowledge as a way of reaching him. James meanwhile wanted the banshee caught. Though explaining that to the warden took some doing. She couldn't believe that he would actually act to protect his little brother even if it was as a means to protect himself. And really, she didn't want to take his call. If the banshee did get him he suspected, Warden Jones would be perfectly happy.
The only person he couldn't warn was Sheryl. His ex-wife knew nothing of magic and she could not be told. But she was ironically enough protected by her ignorance. Knowing nothing of magic she was burdened with guilt, which in turn had left her shut away for a while in Fairview Haven. Only one person in his entire office knew where she was – Will. He couldn't believe that Will would ever betray him. He might dress like a cowboy and it might seem bizarre. But in his heart the man believed in the code of the old West – whatever exactly it was. He would never willingly give up a friend. And like everyone else in the office he was warded.
After that his job was to get out of the city. To find a place where he could hole up for a few hours – after visiting a drug store to pick up his scripts. Then he’d head up-state to his daughter's school. The Liberty Academy. Because if the banshee was going to strike at him again his daughter would be her first target.
That could not happen.
Chapter Eighteen
James was almost asleep in the car when he saw her, and at first when he did he didn't know what to think. The woman in her homespun garments looking a little like a hippie was walking in such a strangely cautious fashion down the street, and avoiding the wash of the street lights that he almost thought she might be drunk. Until it clicked. She was a hunter. Or maybe a huntress – he was never sure of the correct terminology. A hunter by nature and magic rather than position like him. And the reason she was walking like that wasn't just to avoid being caught in the wash of the street lights, she was also avoiding the wards around the school.
And since he was parked outside the main entrance to the Liberty Academy he knew who her prey was. She wasn't there for him after all. She had no idea he was around. She was after Matti!
The banshee had realised that her targets were protected, and prepared accordingly. She'd recruited one of the gifted who could get around those protections. The damned woman was resourceful.
Hunters had the innate magic of the hunt. They walked silently and left no tracks. They could run like the wind when they needed to and fight like wild cats. Their senses were all hyper acute, meaning that she could see in the dark and hear like a bat. She could also hunt by smell. But most importantly she could sense traps and go around them. Any sort of trap. The huntress was an excellent choice of agent for the banshee. How the hell had she managed to find one at such short notice?
Luckily while he might not have her magic, or really any magic, he had one thing that countered it perfectly – a knowledge of criminals and how they operated. He'd expected the attack and worked out how it would come. Or rather, how she would attempt to enter the school.
The academy was fenced on three sides with tall mesh fences that separated it from the bush behind it. The chances were that it had been installed however many years before to stop the kids escaping into the forest and smoking and getting up to other general adolescent naughtiness. But regardless of why it had been installed, it was still a significant barrier, and it was alarmed. It would be avoided by most.
The front of the academy therefore was the most likely point of access. It too was mostly fenced, but because it ran along a street, the fence was much more upmarket. It was comprised of wrought iron palings and stood a mere eig
ht feet tall. Sharp points edged the top of each paling. Going over it would still not be an option for most, especially when there were neighbours looking on from the other side of the road. There was however a break in the fence for the entrance to the school's car park. It was the most likely way in which was why he was guarding it.
For that reason he'd parked up about fifty yards away from the entrance on the opposite side of the road, underneath a couple of elm trees. From there he had a good view of the entire front of the academy and he was close enough that if someone did try to come through on one of the other sides he would hear the alarms when they sounded and come running – or rather hobbling – furiously.
It was a painful duty, in so many ways. Partly because he was in pain despite the drugs he was swallowing like candy. But mostly because he was parked there outside the school, knowing that his daughter was inside only one or two hundred yards away, and he couldn't go to her. If he did – if he even tried – Sheryl's lawyer would have what few rights he had to communicate with her, stripped. Consequently he had spent the last few days sitting outside the school, and had not once tried to go to her or even let her know that he was around.
Still, he'd done it for three days, and no one thus far had come for her. In fact he had been starting to wonder if the banshee had been stopped. Maybe her injuries had been more serious than they knew? She might even be dead. All they really knew was that she had left blood behind. Perhaps that had slowed her down. But James had known from the start that if she was alive she would come for him. And creeping up the street, doing her best to remain unseen, was his proof.
The woman had to be stopped, and he was in no shape for a fight. His injuries might be healing – after only two or three days it was hard to be sure – but every muscle, bone and joint in his body hurt. They'd all stiffened up. And when he walked, despite the cornucopia of drugs he took, he walked like an old, arthritic cripple. To recover fully was going to take weeks or even months. For the moment sitting in the car was about the limit of his abilities. And he had no back up. He hadn't told the others where he was because he was still worried they had a mole and he didn't want any word of what he was doing getting back to the banshee. The German was going to laugh at him about that. Either that or lecture him some more about his lack of trust.
But he did have one thing going for him James eventually realised. Surprise. The hunter wasn't here for him. She had no idea that he was around. And maybe he had a second edge. A career spent as a police officer. It leant him a certain manner. A way of walking and acting that would always identify him as one. That could be useful he realised as he got out of the car and approached the woman.
She didn't look like a threat he thought. She was of slim build and not particularly muscular. But the one thing he had learnt in the last five years was that looks could be deceiving where magic was concerned. In his present condition he doubted he could fight her. In fact it was taking all his strength just to appear to be walking normally. No doubt she would guess some of that even though he was wrapped up from head to foot in a heavy coat. Hunters always knew when their prey was wounded. She just didn't know that he was her prey.
“Excuse me ma'am.” James called out to her when they were close enough that he didn't have to shout. He also pulled out his bill fold. In the darkness it looked like an ID. He was rewarded by watching her at least stop. She hadn't been expecting to be spotted. She certainly hadn't been expecting to be approached by the police.
“Yes officer?” She looked a little surprised but not alarmed.
“It's late and we've had reports of a prowler in the area. Spying on the children. Can I ask what you're doing out here tonight?” James stopped about two or three paces from her, and put his bill fold away before she realised what it actually was.
“A prowler?”
“Yes. A predator. We're calling him Abadon.”
The instant he spoke the word the spell activated and a brilliant flash of light turned the night into day. It caught the hunter completely by surprise, and she leapt backwards with her arm covering her eyes. But it didn't render her harmless as he had expected, and a second later she leapt for him, arms outstretched.
James tried to dodge her attack, but was just too slow. He hadn't expected the attack and his body wasn't in good enough shape to move quickly anyway. So one of her hands – stiffened fingers resembling an axehead – caught him on the cheek. At least he had managed to dodge sufficiently to avoid having his eyes clawed out.
How could she have done that? Struck at him so quickly and accurately? Surely she was blind? But then he realised the truth. While she was temporarily blinded that wasn’t enough to stop a hunter. She didn't need to see him to fight.
She leapt for him again, and this time his slow moving flesh was faster at getting out of the way. Adrenaline was overcoming his physical deficiencies. Still, he knew as she sailed past him that just dodging wasn't enough. He had to take the fight to her. So the next time she ran at him he moved in closer instead of dodging.
She wasn't prepared for the move and his fist caught her neatly in the stomach, driving the air from her lungs. It was a good blow. Even crippled and moving like a broken old man he was a capable fighter. Of course it helped that she hadn't seen the blow coming.
The fight was over. James knew that. The hunter didn't. She didn't allow herself to fall to the ground and start gasping for breath even though that was surely what every fibre in her being was crying out for her to do. Instead she crouched on the ground in a hunter's pose, desperately trying to look as though she was ready for anything. But she wasn't. Something that James established a moment later when he pushed her shoulder with his foot and she fell over sideways.
After that it was mainly a matter of keeping her secured. That meant restraining her, using the set of cold iron manacles he always kept in the boot. It took a moment to get them, walking slowly back to the car and then returning. But his prisoner didn't move a lot in the time it took him. Nor did she try to resist him too hard when he pulled her arms up behind her back and fastened them. She'd barely started breathing again by then and she was kitten weak. She didn't resist after that when he helped her to her feet either or started checking her for weapons and ID. She didn't have the strength.
“Come on you. You can sit in the car while we wait for someone to pick you up.” James didn't feel any anger for the hunter. He didn't really feel a lot of anything for her. On the one hand he knew she had come to try and kidnap his daughter which he could not forgive. But on the other she was a victim of a banshee's magic. She had no idea that what she was doing was wrong.
“Bastard!” She cursed him, but she didn't resist as he placed a hand on her shoulder exactly as he'd been trained to, and guided her back up the street to his car. Nor when he opened the door and sat her down inside it. She didn't even annoy him when he called for the others to come and pick her up. Mostly he guessed she was angry. And then when she finally did say something, it wasn't what he expected.
“That was a filthy trick!”
“It worked.” James shrugged, unaffected by her criticism. “Another threat overcome, locked up and soon to be deprogrammed. And done by someone who's on the injured list thanks to your mistress. I'd say it was a damned good trick.”
“You're not that badly wounded. One hip looked to be stiff, your face is a bit of a mess and you were favouring a shoulder but it didn't seem to be too terrible. Not terrible enough to keep you away from work. But I could still take you easily. It was why I let you approach.”
“Actually you wouldn't believe the cocktail of drugs I'm on just to keep going. Your mistress really did a number on me.” James felt no compunction in admitting it. Instead he flicked on the car light and started studying her ID. Then he saw her flinch. Turning on the car light had revealed some of the damage the police had done to his face. The bruising was just starting to come out and half his face had blackened. One eye was blood shot and so badly swollen that it was almost per
manently closed. The darkness had hidden a lot. And it surprised her. What surprised him though was that she could already see him. Obviously she was quick to recover.
“My mistress? Why do you keep saying that?”
“Soo Chi Harper Lee. She's a banshee and you're under her spell.” James wasn't surprised that his prisoner – Alysson Thomas according to her driver's licence – didn't understand. None of the others had yet realised that they had been under her spell. Though some from what he had been told were finally starting to break completely free.
“Soo Chi's not my mistress! She's my friend!” The hunter objected strongly. “And we're both simply trying to protect our people.”
“And who are your people Alysson?” It was a pointless question to ask James knew. But he still liked to ask it, if only to be constantly amazed by the inevitable response. And it was the same this time as she sat there trying to answer him, eventually realising she couldn't. She didn't know who her people were.
“That doesn't matter!” She instinctively covered for her ignorance, perhaps a little frightened by the fact that she didn't know.
