Angie Fox - ADS 03 - A Tale of Two Demon Slayers

Not that I was used to hiking back home in Georgia, but when I did climb a hill, I could dig my toes into the thick soil. Here it was like an alien planet, a dusting of plants over rock. Sweat began to slick down my back and I fought to keep up.

“It’s not much farther,” he said, as if he could hear me huffing behind him. “My sisters usually fly, but I don’t see the need.”

Well, then he had thighs of steel. Who was I kidding? I’d seen them. They were glorious. I, on the other hand, was in fiery pain from the waist down. The backs of my legs burned and even my toes hurt from finding footholds in the rock.

I reached out in the dark for what I hoped was a well-entrenched bush and heaved myself farther.

We continued until we reached an overhang swathed in vines. It was invisible from a distance, even from the bottom of the hill. Below it was an eight-foot vertical drop covered in slippery vines.

“I can’t climb that,” I said, out of breath, bracing my sweaty palms on the cliff face while I struggled to maintain my balance on a ledge that was maybe, maybe wide enough for a mountain goat. Three lessons at the Atlanta Rocks! indoor climbing gym would only take me so far. I hadn’t even gotten off the beginner wall.

“Relax.” Dimitri lifted the curtain of vines to reveal an entrance to what appeared to be a large cave.

“Well look at that,” I said. “Griffin sized.”

He flashed a quick grin. “You doubted me?”

“Never,” I said, taking the last few steps with renewed energy. I had to see this.

Dimitri reached inside the dark opening and pulled out a torch. He lit it with the Bic from his pocket and tossed the light inside.

“Hey,” I said, surprised. We could have used that.

The torch on the floor cut through some of the shadows, revealing a flat ceiling and craggy walls.

“We don’t want to attract attention.” He wrapped a steadying arm around my waist. “Come,” he said, helping me into the semidark cavern.

The vines dropped behind us.

“This is cozy,” I said, as Dimitri moved to light the torches along the far wall. They rested in simple bronze holders, green with age, set into the cut stone every four feet or so.

I inhaled the scent of fresh, raw earth along with the smoky tang of the wood from the torches. Past the halos of light, the darkness seemed to go on forever.

“Who did this?” I asked, my voice echoing in the cavern.

I could feel his heat as he stood next to me. The shadows from the torches fell hard on the angles of his face.

“This place has been here for as long as any of us can remember,” he said. “It was most likely built by the first of my family, the original griffins who settled on this land.”

I believed it. The history of this place had suffused itself into the walls, the floor. I felt it all around us.

“I want to show you something,” he said, leading me toward an opening in the far wall that I hadn’t even noticed until he waved his torch over it.

This chamber was smaller than the first, with ceilings so low I could almost touch them. As Dimitri moved throughout the room, lighting the wall torches, I noted the stark differences here. Thick Greek rugs in olive, slate and burgundy covered the floors. A black leather couch lounged among stacks of books. A hint of sandalwood and sweat touched the air. I could tell in an instant this was Dimitri’s retreat.

That he had taken me here spoke volumes.

Dimitri tended to give first and explain later. I didn’t always understand what he was doing, but I knew what he’d offered me tonight.

The question was—could I accept it?

Could I accept us ?

It was a completely different battle for me. Sure, I’d braved possessed werewolves and soul-stealing succubi—and come out on top.

It took a completely new kind of courage to face him, myself, what I truly wanted out of life.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready. I could have grown old waiting to gather the courage.

Didn’t the man understand we had problems? He loved me despite my flaws. That was good, because I had a feeling he’d be seeing plenty tonight.

More than anything, I wanted to learn how to accept Dimitri and my life and the danger we faced. I was tired of worrying, of holding back. It was like I’d hidden a part of my soul from everyone, including myself. It took too much energy and cost me twenty tons of heartache.

The depths of my power—unleashed for the first time—could be incredible.

Dimitri touched my arm. “Lizzie?”

I blinked back to reality and the handsome griffin standing in front of me.

“You left me for a minute,” he said.

“Yes,” I said, breaking his gaze. It was too intimate. Instead, my eyes traveled to the far side of the room. Next to a scarred and blackened wall lay several dozen switch stars.

“What are you doing with those?” I gasped. “They could kill you.”

“Not if they’re not branded to a demon slayer.” He walked over to them. “In this form, they can merely take years off my life.”

That’s right. He’d thrown switch stars back when he trained me. “What do you mean they took years off your life?”

He stood tall, the torch light flickering off his chiseled features. “Switch stars get their power from energy. As a demon slayer, you are able to offer them an unlimited power source, separate from your life force. It’s not the same for griffins.”

The truth of it hit me hard. “You sacrificed years in order to train me?”

“Yes.”

I tried to find anger behind his words, resentment even. But there was none. “Why?”

His eyes never left mine. “It was the only way.”

The answer seemed too simple. He’d done it so I could prepare myself to rescue his sisters. It was all well and good, but I came from a world that taught me to take care of myself, a society where Good Samaritans were sued as often as they were thanked and loyalty was a quaint and proper notion that came up when people talked about the Greatest Generation.

“Are you ready?” he asked, moving toward the switch stars.

“Don’t touch those!” I said, rushing for him, ready to toss myself between him and the life-stealing weapons.

“I won’t,” he said, stopping in front of them. “I don’t believe in sacrifice without cause.” His fingers brushed my cheek and my insides went gooey. “But I will ask you to step outside what you think you can do.”

I nodded. I was ready.

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’ve prepared. You’ve built a structure. Now it is time to let go. Trust that you’re in the place you need to be.”

“But that’s the thing,” I said, reaching for one of his stars instead of the five at my belt. It seared itself to me with a hot certainty that touched me to the bone. “I can’t plan this one out.” And there lay the crux of the problem. How did I know I was on track if I didn’t know where I was going?

Dimitri towered over me. “You rely on instinct. But you need to stop seeing the world as you think it should be and start recognizing your allies and your enemies for what they are.”

“I see my allies,” I said, irritated.

“You think so?” he challenged. “You see the biker witches. They’re easy. They’re ready to charge the demons of hell with jelly-jar magic and an army of motorcycles. They’d do anything for you. There’s no risk.” He stopped me before I could push back. “And don’t say Pirate. He’s another easy one. That damned dog tried to follow you into the second layer of hell.”

“True.” If we hadn’t leashed him, Pirate would have gone through the vortex with me.

He took a step forward until we were practically touching. “But you don’t trust me,” he said, his mouth inches from mine.