Angie Fox - The Last of the Demon Slayers

“What?” I blurted.

Frieda clutched my hand harder and yanked.

“Ow!” A fallen angel? I’d detected death and sulfur. I’d never met an angel before, but I doubted they smelled like demonic minions. And another thing – if he was an angel, that meant I was half angel and that was too impossible to contemplate.

It had taken almost a year to get used to the fact that I was a demon slayer. I was still learning to control those powers and now I might be something completely different.

Being a demon slayer meant I could levitate, slow time and fry bad guys on occasion. But it still meant I was fully human.

And now?

If I was part angel, I wasn’t all human.

I wanted to leave. I had to get out of there and think about this. I had to tell Dimitri. He’d know what to do. We could turn our date into a therapy session.

Heaven above.

I looked around the room, to the circle of witches. They watched Grandma.

“Hold it together, Gertie,” Ant Eater warned her.

Grandma shook her head, focusing hard. “Damn it, Phoenix. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Because Phoenix, otherwise known as my mom, was a royal jerk. Not only did she shove off her demon slaying powers on me, it seemed she neglected to tell anyone she’d been running around with a fallen angel.

Grandma swallowed, collecting herself. “Sorry.”

Considering the circumstances, she was doing better than I was. My mind could barely hold a thought. I forced myself to slow down.

Relax.

Focus.

I’d always prided myself on my control, and if there was ever a time to shut up and take it in, it was now.

The rope grew still and began to smoke as Grandma redoubled her efforts. “Why, Xavier? Why did you come back now?” She struggled, her mouth hanging open, her eyes fixed on something none of the rest of us could see.

“Grandma?”

Her eyes bugged out. “Your dad’s been fiddling with the wrong side, Lizzie. He made some bad friends.” Sweat beaded on her forehead. “He might not have known what he was doing. Hell, he’d better not have known what his jackass friends were pulling. Either way, he got demoted.”

“Before or after he had me?” It was a selfish thing to ask, but darn it, I needed to know.

She just shook her head, concentrating. “He tried to work his way back, but now he’s really struggling. Dang it. I can see why he needs you. Hell and damnation!”

“What?” I demanded.

She struggled to pull out the last bit of information as the enchanted lariat caught fire. Grandma fought as it burned to ashes.

When it was gone, she lifted her head and stared right at me.

“What?” I repeated, leaning as far as I could without breaking the circle. “So I’m a half angel.” Or half fallen-angel. “He’s a fallen angel.” I was good. “He has to have some good, right?”

Grandma trembled slightly. “He does.” She glanced at the charred remains of my dad’s gift. “Even after this booby prize. I think it was hexed to compel you straight for Pasadena.”

“Like a magical lasso?”

Grandma frowned. “Or a noose.”

“Did he know I’d find all this out?” I asked.

“Nope. Most people don’t see us coming.”

Frieda grinned, but Grandma wasn’t in the mood. “I don’t want you going. I don’t want us to go,” she said to the group. “It’s foolhardy, and it’s dangerous. Xavier’s soul is not our problem.”

Okay, so I could tell Grandma had never been too keen on Xavier, but since when did she give a fig about foolhardy and dangerous?

I could tell there was something else. “What is it you’re not telling me?”

She eyed me. “If you don’t go, your father is going to fall farther,” she said, automatically. “He can’t help it. Forces are in motion against him.”

I didn’t understand. “But how can he fall more? He was an angel and now he’s not.”

Frieda squeezed my hand. Grandma planted her hands on her hips, searching for words. Ant Eater took the blunt approach. “He’s going to go demonic.”

“What?” I stopped for a moment, shocked.

Oh geez. Who was I kidding? Hadn’t I detected some demonic tendencies? Didn’t I smell the sulfur on him? He’d allied himself with death.

Grandma sighed. “I’m sorry, Lizzie.”

“Yes, well so am I.” This was my father we were talking about. Yes, he was creepy and I didn’t care for the way he’d tried to compel me or how he’d tried to trick me. But I wasn’t going to damn him to hell for it. “You say he’s going to go demonic unless we do something about it.”

“We?” Grandma balked.

“Fine. Me.” I was the demon slayer.

“Lizzie, you don’t owe that man anything.”

“Only my life,” I said. Technically, it was true. Even if I didn’t know him, I couldn’t help but feel for him. I owed it to him to at least see if I could help. If I didn’t try, I’d never forgive myself.

Grandma watched me, unhappy.

Dimitri would understand. Why couldn’t Grandma?

She could frown until her face froze that way. There was no way to ignore the final, awful truth. “You realize if he does fall all the way and becomes a demon, I am a demon slayer.”

“I know what you are,” she snapped.

I’d have to kill my own father.

I opened my mouth to say it and realized I couldn’t.

She knew.

It was too much. My head hurt. I rubbed at my temples, knowing it wouldn’t make a lick of difference. “Do you want to be on the run again?” I asked. “What if he comes after me because I didn’t help him?”

What if he came after me and I couldn’t destroy him?

I’d rather not have to find out. I really didn’t want to know that yes, I could kill my father. To save my friends and my new family, I would. It would be gut wrenching and horrible and I knew I’d never be the same person again if I did it.

“Face it, Grandma,” I said to her and the rest of the Red Skulls. “Saving him is a lot easier than the alternative.”

Besides, it was the right thing to do.

Grandma stared at me long and hard.

“We just got here.” A witch in the back protested.

“I know.” It was a lot to give up. These witches hadn’t had a home in more than thirty years. “We can come back,” I said.

“When?” Another witch grumbled.

I didn’t have an answer to that. I was asking them to sacrifice for a person they didn’t know. Heck, I had barely met him. They’d worked my entire lifetime to get back to the place where we now stood and I was asking them to give it up.

“Can it wait?” Frieda asked. “I haven’t even finished cleaning the cobwebs out of the shower curtains.”

That, I could ignore.

“This isn’t our battle,” Grandma said to the group, her eyes still on me, “but I haven’t known any of you to walk away from a fight that needs to be won.”

She dug her hands into her pockets. “I’d like to settle down too, but I don’t think I could relax knowing we could save a man from eternal damnation. Lizzie hasn’t always asked for our help, and sometimes we’ve wanted to skin her for it. Now she’s asking. I’m not going to say no.”

The witches began murmuring among themselves. Grandma spoke louder. “Anybody who wants to stay here, that’s fine. You’ve earned the right. We won’t say a word about it.” She drew a deep breath and let it out. “Anybody who sees fit to join us, we’re leaving tomorrow morning at dawn.” She paused, her eyes fixed on the floor, finding the words.

“I always used to think we were running and fighting because we had a demon on our tail. And that’s a damned good reason.”

The biker witches chuckled.

Grandma shook her head. “It was more than that. Somewhere along the line, we stopped fighting for just us. I don’t want to eek out a living hidden behind wards and our spells. I want to look the devil in the eye and kick him in the teeth. I want to say to these creatures, ‘No. You will not win. You will not corrupt us or enslave us. You will not own us.’”