Angie Fox - The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers

“What the… ?” He stared at the cup before setting it on a mud-brown dresser. “Must have grabbed on to it when I felt myself going,” he muttered to himself. “Never felt anything like it. Helluva tickle.”

“Uncle Phil?” I struggled to see him through the glistening embers surrounding him. “Oh my God.” Recognition slammed into me. “You were the one who pulled me out of Lake Newman when I was eight.” Goose bumps skittered up my arms. It was him. I’d been reliving that moment in my nightmares for the last twenty years. I’d almost drowned.

“Lizzie!” His face lit up when he saw me. He batted his way through a cloud of fairy dust and pulled me into a soft, smothering hug that smelled like cinnamon buns. “At last! How’s my girl?” He chuckled, his laugh almost musical, as he took me in like a proud great uncle. “You’re even prettier than I remember.”

Grandma sniffed. “What? From last month? I hate to interrupt the lovefest, but we have to get out of here,” she said, sneaking a glance out the front window.

“Actually”—Phil captured me in a one-armed hug—”we’d better fetch my fiancee. Serena’s going to be sopping mad.”

Just what we needed—an enraged she-demon.

“Get on over here.” Phil dragged Grandma over for a hug, sprinkling her in fairy dust. “You’re both invited to the wedding.”

Grandma wiped the glitter from the tip of her nose. For a second, I thought she was going to punch her half brother in the gut. “Over my dead body.”

A puzzled expression crossed his features.

“Come with us,” I said. He’d been mind warped by a she-demon, a succubus. From what I’d seen in the 1936 guide, his brain would be like a scratched-up CD, mostly intact but skipping over key parts. It should be fixable—if we could get him out of here.

“We’ll explain everything,” I said, dragging him away from Grandma. He was going to be okay. I hoped. “Can your fiancee track you?”

“Well, she has my cell phone number,” Phil said, confused.

“Where is she?” Grandma asked.

Phil drew his brows together. “Right where I left her. At the Love Eternal drive-through wedding chapel.” Phil’s eyes widened. “Holy smokes! I left her at the altar!”

Grandma scowled. “She’ll get over it.”

“I hope so.” He clasped the wedding rings tight. “She has an awful temper.”

“About that,” I said, trying to broach the subject of she-devils.

“No time,” Grandma said, shoving him out the door. I hauled Phil out back to find my rescue dog while Grandma searched for her wandering Mind Wipers. Before we could get too far, I felt the sudden, intense, insane urge to run back into the house and see exactly what was shimmering along the baseboards. I could almost taste the evil.

“Grandma,” I called, hustling Phil and Pirate down the driveway. “We have to get out of here. Now.”

“Move, move, move!” I grabbed Phil by the belt loop of his white tuxedo as he tried to sniff the hibiscus along the circular drive of the Paradise Hotel. As far as I was concerned, it had taken too long to get Phil off the back of Grandma’s bike. The sooner we got him inside, the better.

Wrought-iron railings lined the front entrance and the balconies of the art deco building. According to Grandma, this was one of the oldest hotels on The Strip. It also boasted a magical floor, not that I’d ever seen one of those. I hoped Dimitri and the Red Skulls would be waiting for us there.

As curious as I was to see the hexed thirteenth floor of the Paradise, if we were lucky enough to find our friends in the lobby, I’d be even happier to skip out of town.

Pirate nosed the inside of my arm. “You mind letting me down?” he asked, still dangling from the biker dog carrier strapped to my chest. “A dog feels better when he’s on all fours.”

“Hold on, bub,” I told him as I took Phil’s elbow and squeezed the three of us into the same partition of the hotel’s revolving door.

Pirate licked Phil’s hand. “Mmm, you taste like pancake syrup. Oh, shoot. You just gave me a craving for the Shoney’s breakfast bar.”

Phil rubbed his sausagelike fingers over Pirate’s head in a smushy pet. “I knew a fairy once who tasted like buttercream frosting.”

We made our way past the curtain-draped lobby and into the heart of the Paradise. It reminded me of a tropical explosion.

“Pretty!” Pirate said, with the same awe he reserved for the Three Dog Bakery.

Bold floral wallpaper competed with gold lame accents and a barrage of bright lights from the overhead signs cramming the walkways. Feathers sprouted from oversized vases and sky blue velvet curtains framed the entrance to a loud, clanging casino that instantly swallowed us whole.

I doubted the biker witches would come back without Dimitri. “You see them?” I asked, scanning the lobby. Luckily, the Red Skulls would be hard to miss.

“No,” Grandma said, checking her cell phone. “No word from them, either.” She shoved the phone into her back pocket. “Okay. We’ll hole up on the thirteenth floor.”

Pirate ran his nose along the inside of my arm. “Well as long as we’re waiting, I think I might have a snack.”

“When we get upstairs,” I told him. Heck, I’d even pay minibar prices to get out of this lobby. Danger tickled at the back of my brain. I focused hard on the room around me, opening my demon slayer powers as much as I could. This place made it difficult to instantly spot something odd.

A slight tingling in the air stopped me. Grandma felt it too. I reached for the emerald that had—thankfully—morphed back around my neck. Of all the times for Dimitri to go off on his own …

Grandma saw my worry. “Dimitri’s a big boy, Lizzie. He can handle himself.”

“Yeah, well right now, he’s screwing everything up.”

I didn’t want him in town if he was susceptible to the she-demons. I didn’t want him trying to risk himself for me or for Phil or for anybody, and I really didn’t appreciate him running off like he did. We’d be able to hit the road now if we knew how to find him—or the Red Skulls for that matter. As it stood, we were stuck in a hostile city with twenty-five succubi, not to mention an angry demon fiancee on our trail.

Pirate’s tail thumped against my stomach. This probably wasn’t the best time to have him attached to me. I unhooked him, and he belly flopped straight into Phil’s arms. So much for doggie devotion.

I brought a hand down to my switch stars. The last time I’d faced a member of Satan’s unholy army, he nearly killed me. And that was just one demon. Twenty-five would require serious backup. I had nothing but a geriatric biker witch, a disloyal dog and a fairy godfather who smelled like a Cinnabon store.

“Let’s get out of here.” Grandma beat a path for a row of slot machines decked out to look like rejects from a gypsy caravan. She stopped in front of a particularly gaudy machine, shellacked with glittering purple paint. Play Forever. Stay Forever , the sign on top beckoned.

Oh please. I realized we were in Vegas, but nervous energy or not, Grandma should’ve known we didn’t have time for this. I was about to enlighten her when my demon slayer instincts jolted me again.