SPELL TO UNBIND, A

by Laurie, Victoria

  “Follow close behind me,” Finn said.

  “What the hell happened?”

  “Sipowicz had a prior engagement,” Finn said smoothly.

  “Is he dead?” I asked, glancing in the rearview mirror again, but I could no longer see the mystic behind me.

  “I doubt it. Probably a little bruised, but he’ll heal.”

  “Why?” I asked next. I couldn’t understand why he’d done that.

  “Because you don’t defy an order from the boss,” Finn said. “She gets even unless you give her a reason not to.”

  “What’re you going to do?”

  “Give her a reason not to.”

  I thought about that for a minute. “If you find Tic, she no longer has a reason to want to kill you or me.”

  “Bingo. And for the record, she wouldn’t kill me. She’s definitely interested in killing you though.”

  “She’ll have to get in line.”

  “Esmé?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’ve got a shadow on your six.”

  My gaze flew to the rearview mirror for a third time. Sure enough, a big, black F-150 was several car lengths behind, weaving in and out of traffic, and gaining ground. Fast.

  “Friends of yours?” I asked.

  “Yep. We’re probably less chummy these days, but they’re trouble for sure.”

  “What do I do?” I asked, glancing all around for a place to hide and finding nothing. Not even a side street.

  “Follow my lead,” he said.

  I was about to ask him what that meant when the Corvette bulleted ahead.

  “Dammit!” I swore, hitting the speaker function on the phone before shoving a tiny bit of essence into it, whispering, “Stay put,” and sticking it on the dash, where the phone would hold like superglue until I released it. I then gripped the wheel with both hands and punched down hard on the gas.

  The tires squealed and the car rocketed forward. I had to focus intently as I wove through the early evening traffic, doing my best to catch up to the Corvette.

  Finn’s maneuvering was tighter and more controlled than mine, which was a given since he was driving a sleek sports car that could turn on a dime and I was driving an Escalade which was basically a tank that turned like the Titanic.

  Still, with significant effort, I managed to keep within a few car lengths of Finn, but I also wasn’t able to shake the big-ass truck following behind us.

  “What’s the plan here, Lieutenant?” I called out through gritted teeth when I narrowly missed sideswiping a minivan.

  “Just keep on my six, Esmé,” he said. “We’re almost there.”

  I tightened my grip on the steering wheel in frustration and glanced again in the rearview. The F-150 behind me was gaining ground and would be within spell-casting distance in a few moments if I didn’t do something to lengthen my lead.

  Searching the road ahead for an opportunity, I spotted a city bus stopping for a lone pedestrian who was waiting at a bus stand. It was the perfect opportunity.

  Moving over to the far-right lane, I rolled down the window and shot out some essence and yelled, “Wrong bus, wrong bus, step it back, don’t make a fuss!”

  The lone man at the bus stop approached the open doors but then suddenly stopped, looked up at the bus in confusion, then stepped back and waved the bus on.

  Meanwhile I was still hurtling toward it, and I gripped the wheel even tighter, waiting until just the right moment.

  “Esmé!” I heard Finn yell through the speaker. “What the hell are you doing?”

  I didn’t answer. Instead, I put my entire focus on aiming directly for the bus. The distance between us was closing with lightning speed. Behind me, the truck on my tail also picked up speed, quickly coming to within spell-casting distance.

  “Come on!” I shouted.

  And then, like a miracle, the bus’s brake lights went out, and it began to pull forward.

  I was three car lengths away and still aiming for the center of the bus.

  “Esmé!” Finn yelled again. “Talk to me!”

  I ignored him. “Move, you son of a bitch!” I yelled at the bus.

  I didn’t know if I’d have room, or if the maneuver would work, but it was too late to turn back now, especially with the truck on my tail, closing in fast.

  The rear end of the bus came up so fast, and still I waited until the view of it filled the entire windshield before I did anything to veer off my current trajectory.

  With less than a few feet between me and the back of the bus, I pulled hard on the wheel, cranking the SUV to the right, wedging the vehicle into the narrow space between the bus and the sidewalk, but there wasn’t quite enough room, and the SUV lurched as two wheels jumped the curb.

  The SUV was now tilted slightly, but I wasn’t about to let off the gas. But then another complication appeared in the form of a lamppost with my name written all over it if I didn’t do something quick. Squaring my shoulders, I kept the pedal to the metal, filled the cab with more of my energy and yelled, “Faster, faster, avoid this disaster!”

  The SUV picked up an extra burst of speed and zipped through the pocket of open space between the front of the bus and the lamppost, and with only an inch to spare on either side of me, I managed to emerge from the pocket unscathed, pulling hard on the wheel again, only this time correcting to the left, putting myself directly in front of the bus.

  Behind me there was the sound of metal scraping metal, and I grinned as I saw in the rearview mirror that the truck chasing me hadn’t calculated nearly as well as I had. I held my breath, hoping it would crash and burn, but the son of a bitch driving it somehow managed to avoid crashing, fishtailing for a bit until it could correct course again.

  “Fucker!” I shouted at the view in the rearview, continuing to press hard on the gas.

  “Catch up!” Finn yelled.

  “Doing my level best, Lieutenant!”

  “There’s a right turn coming up,” Finn said, ignoring my tone. “Be ready.”

  My palms were sweaty against the wheel, but I pointed the car directly toward Finn’s the same way I’d driven toward the bus.

  “Three streets away!” Finn yelled. “You’re going to have to take your foot off the gas now, Esmé! Don’t brake and let them know what you’re planning!”

  I glanced nervously into the rearview mirror. The F-150 in pursuit was again closing in fast. “They’ll be within casting distance!” I shouted.

  “Kiener’s at the wheel,” he said quickly. “His range isn’t great. You’ll make it.”

  “They’ll see you take the turn, though, and know that’s where I’m heading!”

  “No, they won’t! You’re two streets away! Don’t pay attention to me. Just turn where I’ve pointed you!”

  The red Corvette suddenly whipped to the right, sliding down a street that was one away from where Finn had directed me. The move gave me a moment of indecision. Had I misunderstood? Was I supposed to turn where he had?

  “Keep going!” Finn shouted, and I knew then that he’d pulled down a side street hoping to lure the truck off my tail.

  I did as he told me to and passed his street, then took my foot off the gas, slowing down slightly right before my turn came up.

  Behind me I saw the F150 slow down too. The Corvette could be seen in my side-view mirror racing down the street like a rabbit luring a greyhound, daring Kiener to come after it.

  I came up to my turn faster than I’d anticipated and had to hit the brakes to avoid tipping the Escalade over as I made the maneuver. Still, I felt two wheels come off the pavement, which caused me to shoot my right arm out and command, “Steady!”

  The two wheels dropped, and the SUV shot forward.

  “Keep going, and don’t stop until you’re through the gates!” Finn yelled.

  “Gates? What gates?!” There was nothing in front of me but open road.

  Finn didn’t respond. I looked over to my right and could see between the open lot on the rig
ht that his car was still racing ahead, parallel to mine, and behind him came the F-150, which meant they cared more about nabbing Finn than nabbing me.

  “Thank God for small favors,” I muttered.

  “What?” Finn asked through the speaker.

  “Nothing! Except they’re on your tail now.”

  “Thank God for small favors,” he repeated back to me with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Better you than me when it comes to your own people, Lieutenant.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just focus on getting the hell through the gates.”

  I stared into the darkness of the road ahead. There were no streetlights in this part of town, but I could still see the Corvette and the chase car, roaring down a parallel path from mine.

  Turning my attention back to the road in front of me, I realized it’d begun to curve left, taking me away from the parallel path with Finn. I was feeling a bit anxious about that, but then a sign reflected in my high beams signaled that the end of the pavement was just ahead. I tried to brake but ended up fishtailing, barely holding it together as the SUV jumped onto the dirt road, hitting every giant pothole and divot, making my bones rattle.

  Working hard, I fought with the steering wheel to stay in control, turning into each swirl and pumping the brakes until finally the front and back of the Escalade were heading in the same direction again.

  I moved ahead cautiously but at the fastest speed I could still maintain control.

  “Esmé!” Finn suddenly shouted into the silence of the cab.

  I jumped. “What?”

  “Watch out for the dirt road. It comes up quick.”

  I glared at the phone. “Gee, thanks for the head’s up.”

  “Can you see the gates?”

  “No!” I yelled. The tension in my shoulders from gripping the wheel and trying to navigate the bumpy dirt road at a faster-than-comfortable speed was intense.

  “They’ll be in front of you any minute. When you go through them—”

  Finn’s voice cut off as an insanely loud noise echoed from my phone’s speaker.

  “Finn?!” I yelled, my gaze pingponging between the phone and the road ahead. “Finn!”

  But he didn’t reply, and I couldn’t take my hands off the wheel to check and see if my phone had died—or if he had.

  “Dammit!” I swore, pressing the accelerator a little more aggressively. I needed to get to the end of this road so I could pull over and figure out what had happened to Finn.

  At almost the exact moment I had that thought, two insanely high metal gates attached to a twenty-foot wall lit up in my high beams. “Whoa,” I said, hitting the brakes again.

  The gates were shut, and Finn hadn’t told me how to get them open, so I eased to a stop in front of them, hoping to spot a call box or mechanism or something.

  As I was about to throw the SUV into park, there was a beeping sound from the dash, and a red light began to blink. I squinted at it, and then my attention snapped back to the windshield as the area beyond the gates lit up like an evening game at a baseball park. That was promptly followed by a series of large gears turning and the sound of metal grinding on metal, and then the gates begin to part.

  “Cool,” I whispered, throwing the gear into D again. I didn’t waste any time zipping forward when the gates were barely wide enough to allow Finn’s SUV to pass. They closed behind me with a loud clang as soon as I was through.

  On this side of the gates and the wall, a surprise awaited. “A junkyard?” I said to myself.

  But not any junkyard. All around me were piles and piles of discarded trinkets in every kind of shape and size you could imagine.

  And the piles weren’t small. Each was at least thirty feet tall. There were musical instruments, clocks, rocking horses, toys, vases, furniture, staffs, canes, hourglasses, music boxes, broken mirrors—large and small—tapestries, paintings, sculptures and, very oddly, what looked to be a miniature replica of the Statue of Liberty.

  “Wow,” I said, parking Finn’s car and opening the door to get out. The temptation to have a closer look at what was a thief’s wet dream was overriding any sense of caution.

  Although the former owners of all this trash might’ve been convinced that their things were dead of magical powers and worth discarding, sometimes something really precious got sent to the trash heap because the user wasn’t very good at bringing out the magic.

  Reaching into my jacket pocket, I pulled out my monocle and looked through it. The pile in front of me emitted small pockets of faint green light but most of it was junk. Moving my gaze slowly up, I searched for anything emitting a light in the emerald category, not expecting to find anything but it was still worth looking.

  So I was absolutely gobsmacked when at the top of the pile, I spotted a radiantly brilliant aqua green light that pulsed with power. Only levels above ten were that color.

  “Whoa,” I whispered.

  Behind me, and still attached to the dashboard, my cell began to ring. For a second, I hesitated even considering answering it because of the view through the monocle, but then I remembered that Finn had been in a crash and might need my help. Growling, I swung around and reached inside the cab to whisper, “Let it go.” I caught the cell as it fell off the dash. “Finn?” I asked urgently.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Sorry. Petra sent a crew in a second car that caught me off guard.”

  “How’s the Corvette?”

  “It’s seen better days. Did you make it through the gates?”

  I lifted the monocle with my free hand, drawn by the brilliant bright light at the top of the pile in front of me. “I did. I’m assuming this is where Petra sends all her discarded trash?”

  “It is. I’m headed your way—”

  “In the Corvette?”

  “No,” he said simply. “I’ll be in the F-150.”

  So he’d dealt with Kiener. Or maybe the other crew’s truck if they also drove F-150s. The man was a legit badass.

  “Stay in my vehicle until I get there. Under no circumstances are you to leave the car, understood?”

  I continued forward to the base of the large pile in front of me and lowered the monocle. Scowling, I asked, “Why? Don’t want me to get tempted by some bits of trash that still have a little life left in them, Lieutenant?”

  There was a pause, then, “Esmé, are you out of the Escalade?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course I’m out of the Escalade! I’m a thief, and you’ve just opened the gates to Disneyland.”

  Finn’s voice lowered in volume, almost to a whisper. “Don’t move,” he said. “Esmé, I mean it. If you’re out of the car, stop and do. Not. Move!”

  My brow furrowed. Was there a defense system in place that I hadn’t recognized?

  The moment I had that thought, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end. Behind me I heard movement. Something sounded like it was slithering over the ground, and it came at me fast.

  The slithering continued while I held perfectly still, barely breathing, because whatever was coming up behind me was very, very large. At last, the slithering stopped. Right behind me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Day 3

  I could feel the enormous weight of the creature, hovering just behind me, like an oppressive force, but I dared not move or make a sound.

  “Esmé?” Finn whispered. “If you can hear me, tap the phone with your finger.”

  I tapped the microphone with my index finger very softly.

  “Good. You’re still alive. If you want to stay that way, hold still.”

  Now I’ve been in tricky situations before. I’ve faced creatures that would literally scare the shit out of you, but this thing behind me was releasing some sort of energy that was hard to explain. Not only was every single fiber of my being on high alert, but I was also petrified in a way that didn’t feel natural. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I had to work at keeping it to a rhythm that wouldn’t give me a heart attack while also waiting to feel the b
ite, or the sting, or the slice of whatever Hell had coughed up behind me, but the moment continued to drag out, and I had a feeling the creature was enjoying playing with its prey.

  And then something appeared out of the corner of my eye. It landed gently to the right of me, maybe two feet away. I refused to turn my head to get a better look at it, but whatever it was, it slowly edged forward, and I realized it looked like a bony finger, riddled with long thorny hair and ending in a bulbous, pulsating red tip with a stinger the size of my forearm, curved down toward the ground.

  It tapped the earth in a way that suggested thoughtful impatience, and at the clear sight of it, I felt a shudder threaten to shake me right out of my still-as-a-statue posture.

  With significant effort, I swallowed the scream that was slowly working its way up my windpipe. The terror taking over my entire nervous system was like a physical force, pressing on me, worming its way into my psyche.

  My breathing was shallow and quick. I felt the urge to close my eyes away from that pulsating stinger, but I was literally too terrified to take my gaze off it.

  In the back of my mind, I knew what I was looking at. The stinger belonged to a creature called a cruellion. One of the deadliest monsters ever to have cursed the world.

  There were said to be only three in existence, but I’d not heard any rumors that either Petra or Elric actually kept one as a pet.

  If memory served me, cruellions were as tall as a dragon, long as a python, and deadlier than both creatures combined. They were keenly intelligent, ugly as sin, and enjoyed toying with their prey before injecting them with a poison that was said to light every nerve ending on fire, and keep them alive and aware while the creature slowly ate them … sometimes over a period of days.

  No images existed of a cruellion. Everyone who’d ever gotten close enough to snap a photo had never been seen or heard from again. Still, they’d been thoroughly described by the very, very few who’d managed to see one at a distance and lived to tell about it.

  With a long black body that sported both hair and scales, it slithered like a snake but had two boney arms and humanlike hands but each finger was tipped with a bulbous red stinger.

  I’d met a mystic once who’d had a brief encounter with a cruellion. He was missing the bottom half of his right leg. He’d described to a group of eager listeners how he’d managed to wedge himself into a hole that the cruellion hadn’t been able to fit through, but it had been able to reach its arm in and sting him with just the tip of its longest finger. It’d kept trying to get at him for hours, and the mystic suggested that just that initial sting had felt like being injected with acid and set on fire. Even after the cruellion had grown bored and moved on, the pain had continued, and finally the mystic had cut off his own leg simply to end the unceasing agony.