Her gaze was calm. “Yes, but every minute counts. I’m a hunter, Simon. I can’t stand by when I’m needed. I learned a thing or two from the first encounter. I’ll be harder to kill this time.”
I swore again. “I’m going with you.”
“Now who’s crazy!” She patted various parts of herself. I’ve known other hunters, so I was pretty sure she was checking for weapons concealed around her slim figure. “You’re a healer, not a fighter. You won’t be of much assistance, and I’d rather not have your death on my conscience.”
“You probably won’t live long enough to feel guilty.” I gave her my best listen-to-the-doctor glare. “I’m no warrior, but I’m damned good at shielding.”
She frowned. “Good enough to protect yourself and the children?”
“No guarantees, but I can deflect quite a lot of bad magic. Plus, now that I think about it, I’m not sure calling 911 is a good idea. The average cop isn’t equipped to face down demons.”
“Sadly true. I’m told that New York’s Finest includes several Guardian hunters, but I don’t have their numbers available.” She slung her backpack over her shoulder. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“Just as you’re compelled to hunt, I’m compelled to heal. If we find those children alive, they may need magical treatment fast.” I swept my hand after the blue pulse of energy. “Lead on, my lady hunter!”
Rebecca pivoted and headed into a tunnel after the energy line. She was below average height, and looked as sleek and deadly as one of the hot babes you see on urban fantasy paperbacks. I wondered if she had a tattoo like the hot babes always seem to.
I suppressed my mental wanderings and focused my attention on our hike along the dusty tunnel. There were footprints in the dust, enough to suggest a fair amount of coming and going. There were also odd bits of rubble and now and then a dead rat.
The energy trail was becoming clearer, maybe a sign that we were getting closer. I touched an experimental finger to the energy and had a clear sense of the little blond girl. She was terrified but holding it together, barely.
“What happened to the children? And how did you become involved?”
“Pure chance,” she tossed over her shoulder. “I write mysteries, and flew over to do some research on what Christmas is like in New York. I was waiting in the taxi line to go into the city when I realized that a man getting into a taxi ahead of me was possessed by a demon. So I had my cabby follow him into Manhattan.”
“Did you say ‘Follow that car?’”
She chuckled. “Yes, I’ve always quite wanted to do that. My driver did a decent job of keeping up, but with the traffic, I was several minutes behind when the demon host was set down near the toy shop and went inside. Again, I followed, thinking there were enough people around that I wouldn’t stand out. I was startled to feel magic coming off so many of the toys.”
“Did you confront the demon host?”
“Not really,” she said wryly. “The shop is like a railroad apartment, with rooms behind rooms. When I entered, I could see straight through to end of the shop, which was set up with a Santa in a Germanic outfit, several children, and the demon host. I’m not quite sure what happened, but there was a flare of dark, powerful magic. When it cleared, I saw that the original demon host had collapsed and the demon energy, or at least part of it, had moved into the Santa.”
I frowned. “Only part of the demon energy?”
“That’s what it felt like, but I’m not sure what happened,” she said, frustration in her voice. “Anyhow, Demon Santa said in a horribly jolly voice, ‘We’re going for a walk now, children!’ Then he led them through a door behind his Santa throne.”
“Where were the parents of the kids?”
“As I ran through the store and into the room behind, I saw adults collapsed in each room.” Her voice faltered. “I think they were alive but unconscious. I hope they were alive. I didn’t take the time to check.”
“How did you end up toasted?”
She sighed. “I went racing down the steps at full speed. When I got to the bottom, I saw Santa’s back as he shepherded his captives in this direction. I was so concentrated on him that I didn’t realize there was another demon above me. I heard a sound and looked up just in time to be hit with a nuclear grade blast of demon magic. Not my finest hour. Whoever it was came down the steps and passed me. I couldn’t see because I was paralyzed and turned away from him.”
“So there are at least two.” Probably the second demon was the one who’d laid that toxic energy blast on the door to the shop. Could a single hunter like Rebecca take on two demons? We needed backup, but if we waited for that, the kids might be dead.
I checked the cell phone. Still no signal.
I saw a faint glow of light ahead, and Rebecca raised one hand for silence as she continued toward it. We reached the end, where the tunnel opened into a larger space, and came to a halt. Ahead of us was a railroad car sitting on rusty rails that ran back into darkness. Light poured from the small, grimy windows and I could hear a tinny rendition of Deck the Halls. The footprints led right to the nearest door.
As Rebecca magically scanned the interior of the car, I recalled I’d once seen a picture of a similar car somewhere in the tunnels under the city. Was it near Grand Central Station? Used by Franklin D. Roosevelt? I couldn’t remember. Not that this was the same car. There was no presidential seal, just a shabby passenger car, probably pre-World War II, and with a grotesque Christmas party taking place inside.
Rebecca laid her hand on mine and said in a bare whisper, “All six children are in there and alive, but two of them are very weak. What can you sense?”
“Pain,” I whispered back. “Fear, terrible fear. And evil. Two demons, I think?”
“Yes, the Santa and another even darker energy.” She hesitated. “I have no evidence, but my intuition says that the owner of the shop called the demon energy to New York. When the host entered the shop, the demon energy split with some going to the Santa and more to the shop owner. My guess is that they’ll feed on the children till they’re dead, then the shop owner will do the same to the Santa.”
