Angie Fox - The Last of the Demon Slayers

“I’ll come check on you,” I called after them, grateful for once to have Neal around.

Grandma whistled under her breath. “That man has the finest ass.”

And I was grateful no longer.

“Okay,” I said to Grandma and Rachmort, “let’s plan our attack here. We need to get rid of the dregs and get Zatar off our backs. Let’s think of a way to do it.”

I didn’t know if I was strong enough to kill Zatar, but I was positive I didn’t have a clue about how to eliminate a dreg.

“We can do what Evie did,” Grandma said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“How do you know what Evie did?” My Great Great Great Aunt Evie might have been one of the greatest demon slayers of all time, but she died in 1883.

Grandma thwacked me on the arm. “Roxie came back here after you went to purgatory without her. She’s pissed about that, by the way. But she brought with her that diary you found.”

“So Evangeline was Evie.”

I’d hoped, but I hadn’t been able to take a long enough look at the book to be sure. Talk about knowledge. This could change everything. I wondered what my Dad had planned to do with Evie’s diary – and how he came across the book in the first place.

“I was reading it when Neal suggested a walk.”

Among other things.

“Lizzie, pay attention,” Grandma ordered.

“I am paying attention,” I snapped.

“Old people have sex,” Grandma said.

Oh my god.

“Yes, they do!” Rachmort added.

“Please. Stop. Let’s just talk about the diary.”

Grandma huffed. “Exactly. I didn’t memorize the details, but I know Evie could create a portal so specific to a demon that it stripped him of the magic things he had with him.”

Wait. “I thought necromancers created portals.”

“We do.” He began polishing his glasses on his gold waistcoat. “In fact, it’s much easier for someone like me to bridge the gaps between the worlds of the living and the dead. Part of the job, you could say.” He held his glasses up to the moonlight. “But it’s not impossible for you. Not at all. I tried to teach Evie portals. Years ago. Didn’t know it took.” He leaned close. “If you can re-create Evie’s portal, you could banish Zatar and force him to release his dregs.”

Hope blossomed. “I can do that? I could eliminate the dregs?”

“It sure sounds like it!” Rachmort exclaimed with no small amount of glee. He grew somber. “Of course, we’d have to catch them.”

Great. Dregs on the loose. Provided I could even pull this off. I hoped Dimitri was ready. And still talking to me.

Rachmort put on his glasses and blinked a few times, testing them. “Your great aunt was a feisty one, always trying to improve on things. She exploded my hand-cranked Demon Duster. Kaboom! You should have seen it,” he mused. “She sent my canoe to Hades… But I never knew she’d caught on.” Rachmort clapped his hands, delighted. “Evie was special. Just like you.”

“Ah, so now it’s tradition.” I kind of liked that. And it would be fun to create the kind of portal that could strip Zatar of those dregs and any other magic he happened to be holding.

“Where do you think we should send him?” I asked. “Personally, I’d prefer to impale him on one of the ice peaks of Hades.”

“Excellent idea,” Rachmort boomed. “Drag him deeper than you’ve ever gone.”

How could I send him to a place I’d never even seen?

“This is starting to sound more and more impossible.” My brain started to buzz, like it always did when I was thinking about the details upon details involved in pulling off an insurmountable task.

“Just remember the demon slayer truths, Lizzie!” Rachmort said.

Accept the Universe. Look to the Outside. Sacrifice Yourself.

I knew Rachmort was trying to be helpful, but truly, he was directing this. He wasn’t the one who was going to stand toe-to-toe with a creature that wanted to kill him and try to use magic he’d never known existed until now, with oh wait – about three hours to prepare.

Hells bells. My head was starting to hurt. “You know what? While I’m at it, let’s strip Zatar of his power and kill him too.”

“No,” Rachmort, “let’s not innovate. We know this works. We have to count on what we know.”

Oh, please. “I was joking.”

Rachmort didn’t get it. “This feels like old times,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I always enjoy spending time with demon slayers.”

Glad one of us was having fun.

He caught my dirty look. “What? Will grumbling help us trap Zatar?”

No, but at least I understood it.

Grandma tapped her silver ringed fingers together. “Now, what about the dreg in Roxie?”

“Well,” I considered, “what if I make a smaller portal? We could toss her across the field and pull the dreg out?”

“Yes, yes,” Rachmort mumbled, tugging at his mustache.

“It’ll be a test run,” I said. And I needed all the practice I could get.

Rachmort nodded. “It will also help us determine what to do with a live dreg.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “As long as you keep Max away from it.”

“Dimitri can handle it,” Grandma said. “He seemed to take care of the last dreg pretty well.”

I nodded, my stomach flip flopping at the thought – Dimitri. He was going to kill me for running out on him like I had.

“Okay, so we use Evie’s formula to create demon-sucking portals,” Rachmort said. “Lizzie flings Zatar to hell and Dimitri helps us clean up the dregs.”

“My dad also has something called demon dust.”

Rachmort tapped his glasses against his chin. “Hmm…not much use outside of purgatory, but it might help keep Zatar in one spot. We’ll have to see.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “We’d better get moving.” We had less than three hours.

“I’ll go find Roxie,” Rachmort offered.

Grandma grinned. “I’ll convene the biker witches.”

Rachmort leaned way too close into my personal space. “Leave it to Evie to think of something like this. She was always surprisingly practical. Just like you.” He slapped me on the back and headed off.

“Wait,” I called after him. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“No worries,” he called, “I can find Roxie.”

“He’s a pistol,” Grandma said almost to herself. Then to me, “I’ll drop you off at the cemetery.”

“Excuse me?”

“To get Evie’s main ingredient. You have to do it since you’re the slayer.”

“This better not take long.” I cringed at what kind of an ingredient we’d find in a graveyard. “What am I looking for?”

“A single white rose mallow,” Grandma instructed.

“Ah yes.” I nodded. “What?”

“The soul flower,” she explained, leading me farther into the scrub desert. “It blooms over graves that a contented spirit has recently visited. Believe me you’ll know it when you see it.”

“I didn’t think ghosts in graveyards were content.”

“These aren’t ghosts. These are souls who watch over their loved ones, and us. The soul flower is simply a gesture to show they’ve checked up on us.”

I didn’t get it. “There’s power in a gesture?”

“Of course there is, Lizzie.”

If she didn’t stop grinning, I was going to smack her.

“What if there aren’t any of these flowers?” What if the souls were busy?

We needed a soul flower now. Preferably in the next five minutes.

Grandma tisked. “This is the Aquarius Ranch we’re talking about. You can practically feel the love.”

The most annoying thing about it was that Grandma was right. I knew she was talking about Neal. But it was true that the Aquarius Ranch held positive energy. I could feel the power and the influence of those who had lived and worked here, especially as we climbed up a low slope and stood on a small overlook at the edge of the mountain.