Angie Fox: My Big Fat Demon Slayer Wedding

“Right in front of you!”

She paused, watching us and a chill went up my spine.

“I don’t see anything,” Pirate said, dashing right toward her.

“Watch out!” I yelled as he ran right through her.

“What?” he asked, spinning around, scattering leaves.

In the blink of an eye, the woman vanished.

Pirate could always see ghosts. He made buddies with them. A ghost had taught him how to play Scrabble for goodness sake.

My breath caught in my throat. “You never saw her.” It was more of a statement than a question, but holy h-e-double-hockey-sticks. What did it mean that I was the only person who could?

I wanted nothing more than to leave the way I came. Instead, I tugged at the latch on the gate. It was stiff, locked. Until it loosened under my fingers and clicked open. I tried to ignore the ominous creak as I stepped through. The garden was dense back here, almost jungle-like. I scanned the thick vegetation for another glimpse of the woman.

The afternoon was warm, but I felt chilled to the bone.

“This way,” Pirate said, leading me toward the grouping of trees where I’d seen the woman. Thorny vines climbed the thick trunks, their branches brushing my head as I passed underneath.

“Hello?” I called.

Insects screeched and the air felt thick and heavy.

Pirate snerfed. “Ain’t no one out here but us.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.”

He picked up his pace. “I’d been guarding this spot. I sent Flappy to find you.”

So that’s why we’d had a dragon at the window. Too bad Flappy couldn’t talk.

I double-checked my switch stars, keeping a hand on them for good measure. But I didn’t see the woman again. I wondered if she saw me.

A few moments later, we came to an old tower, made from the same black stone as the house. It reminded me of a misplaced castle turret. There was a wooden door at the bottom and narrow windows on the first two levels. Rusted metal spikes jabbed from the windowsills and from the tower itself.

“I like to get into the mind of my prey,” Pirate explained, wriggling into a space near the bottom of the door. “And if I was running from me, this is where I’d go.”

“Be careful.” He was going to get stuck.

In the second it took me to think that, he was already inside. “I was sniffing around on the first floor,” he said, his voice muffled, “Cause, you know, I’m good at that, when I realized whatever I had was gone. Not my fault. Sometimes I like to let them off the hook.”

I glanced around, to make sure we were truly alone. It was hard to tell with the thickness of the trees, and the shadows they cast over the garden.

“It’s in here,” Pirate said from inside.

I yanked on the door.

It wouldn’t budge. I pushed harder to make sure.

Nothing.

“Is there another way in?” I asked, keeping an eye out as I made a lap around the structure. It was slow going what with the underbrush and the vines snaking across the ground and up the tower.

“Come on , Lizzie,” he prodded, as if his doggie time were valuable.

“Chill out, Rapunzel.” I didn’t find any other doors or breaks in the stone. “And what you wanted to show me… You see it inside, right?” No use killing myself getting in if Pirate was leading me on a wild goose chase.

“It’s right here ,” he said, as if I were purposely holding things up.

“Come on out.” I didn’t like him being alone with something that could be evil.

“No.”

Cripes. “Hold on a sec.” I was tempted to hit the door with a switch star, but there had to be another way. The lock was antique, valuable. The same probably went for the door itself.

I’d have to levitate, which I hated. I hadn’t done it much, and I wasn’t all that good. Still, I was a demon slayer, and I wasn’t about to wuss out. I closed my eyes and focused on the power I held inside. I felt its intensity, touched the white-hot spark of it, and willed myself off the ground.

My wedge sandals barely left the black soil.

What the heck?

Sure, I’d only been a demon slayer for a year. And I’ve mostly, okay always, used that power to break my falls. But if I couldn’t muster enough spark to lift off the ground, I was in trouble.

Pirate wriggled his head back out of the tower. “What’s the matter? Did you gain weight?”

“No,” I snapped. At least I didn’t think so. And it shouldn’t make a difference anyway. Sure, I was enjoying California cuisine as much as the next person, but, “go back inside. Stop watching me.”

I focused again, clearing my head of everything but the searing light of my power, my innate strength, my goodness, my ability to rise up off the ground.

Now.

This time, I didn’t even get a fizzle.

Holy Mother.

A sliver of dread ran down my spine. Something was wrong with me.

I braced my hands on my hips. I was compromised. But I couldn’t imagine what had happened or how it had started. We hadn’t needed my powers much in the last month.

My limbs felt light, the warm garden air, suffocating. I stared up at the top of the tower. Way, way up.

Get it together . I took one deep breath, then another, when strange tickling sensation settled on the back of my neck. It was almost as if someone—or some thing —was watching me. I drew a switch star and spun around.

“Ha!”

There was only a shadowy garden.

Right.

I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. I didn’t know what to think, but I had to believe I could at least count on my demon slayer senses.

“Anybody there?” As if they’d reveal themselves now.

I waited a moment, trying to detect something—anything unusual. I couldn’t escape the idea that there was more than I was seeing. But when I searched, I came up with…I didn’t know.

There was no harsh grasp of evil, no terrifying chill of imps or the possessed. Just trees, more trees, and a little niggling in the back of my head.

Sweat trickled down my neck and between my breasts. It could have to do with this house, or even an entity following us from our last adventure. Still, I’d always counted on my demon slayer danger detector, and it wasn’t going off. Yet.

I was uneasy all the same.

My emerald necklace felt heavy around my neck. It wasn’t morphing, which was both good and bad.

“Hello!” Pirate’s head popped over the edge of the roof, nearly giving me a heart attack. Then I saw his front legs and his shoulders. There wasn’t much more to him.

“Get away from that edge,” I ordered. If he didn’t watch it, he was going to fall right off.

I felt a cold, wet nose on my shoulder and about jumped two feet. I turned, ready to do battle, and found Flappy, who simply lowered his head and peered up at me, all innocent-like.

He knew what he was doing.

“I thought dragon noses were supposed to be warm,” I said, rubbing some heat back into my shoulder. I don’t know why I’d assumed that. Maybe because of the fire belching.

Flappy nudged me again, this time on the knee, effectively shoving me into a thorny vine. “Ow. Quit it!” I didn’t have time to pet him or talk to him or do whatever the creature wanted right now.

I looked back up to Pirate, who had retreated a bit from the edge. Thank goodness.

Flappy caught me in the back of the neck with his wet snout, sending a chill straight down to my toes. “That’s it!” I spun around to shoo him away.

“You don’t have to levitate,” Pirate called down, like an impatient teacher, “you only have to climb onto a dragon.”

Sure. Piece of cake. Riding on dragon back was like strapping on to one of those mechanical bull rides at a country bar—gut wrenching and uncomfortable, with a good chance of ending up on the ground.