Angie Fox - The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers

“Thanks,” I said, reaching for the only pair of leather pants more obnoxious than the snakeskin ones Frieda had on.

The earthy smell of manure tickled my nose and I soon figured out why. I stood uncomfortably close to a pile of the stuff as Frieda showed me how to cram myself into her pink pants. Because they couldn’t have a zipper up the front like every other pair of pants in creation.

“See?” she said, blowing the sorriest looking bubble I’d ever seen. “That there side zipper goes like a vee all around your girly parts, but you don’t want to open that or, well, you’ll be in for a world of hurt. You want to use the side zipper here and then attach it back to the back zipper on the butt.”

My fingers fumbled with the thick leather and stiff zippers. This was worse than sudoku. Finally, I managed to make everything fit, even the matching bustier.

“Tar and feathers.” Frieda pulled a ribbon of black lace from her back pocket. “I forgot the thong.”

I’d noticed that. “Don’t worry,” I said, trying not to cringe. I’d never gone without panties. Ever. But past experience had proven that Frieda’s thongs weren’t much different than going commando and, frankly, I didn’t want to try and get into the pants again. If the witches were ready, so was I.

She glanced up at me through rhinestone-tipped lashes as she started in on my side buckles. “Don’t squinch your forehead like that. You’ll get wrinkles. Besides,” she said, silver hoop earrings glinting in the moonlight, “we’ve got your back.”

“That’s good to hear,” I told her, easing Dimitri’s black shirt over the tight bustier. I’d need all the help I could get.

She slapped the skintight leather on my hips, admiring her handiwork. “Honey, this ain’t my first rodeo. Now watch the armadillos—the petting zoo ones tend to get fat and lazy. And the fish are from Wal-Mart.”

Fish? “Armadillos?” I hoped Grandma wasn’t expecting me to do any magic in there.

Grandma shoved her head around the edge of the barn. “You happy?” She dug at her spell necklace like it was strangling her. “One of the fish just died.”

Was that bad? “What happened?”

Frieda’s eyes widened as she grabbed for her anti-demon quilt bits. “Hurry.”

I followed Grandma to the other side of the barn and found a small armadillo-carrying army. “I know you want to do this,” Dimitri said taking my hand. “But be quick about it. This doesn’t feel right.”

We jogged past the cabins, through the petting zoo, toward a supply shed at the edge of the Wild West town.

“Hup, hup,” Grandma tugged on my black T-shirt. “Wrong direction, slick. That’s the Cave of Visions.” She pointed at a life-sized covered wagon over by the old-fashioned jail. The Conestoga’s wheels sizzled with an unearthly blue current. A blaze of blue smoke trailed up into the night sky and—holy cripes—pearl white snakes as long as my arm slithered in Z-shaped patterns around and under the wagon. Large, flat heads thrust from both ends of the creatures as they hissed, spewing bursts of flame at each other and anyone else who wandered too close.

Dimitri didn’t look happy. “What kind of magic do you think you’re doing in there?”

“What?” Grandma snapped as the witches filed past us. “Do you want to run this thing? I’m trying to give Lizzie the best shot at getting out of this in one piece.”

“By calling up Cold magic?” he thundered. “No wonder you killed the fish.”

I felt a tugging at my mark. Something wanted me in there.

“Cripes. You know a better way to isolate a demonic presence?”

“Yes,” Dimitri snarled. “Smother the Ice Winders. I can cast a protective charm.”

“Wait,” I said. If hissing, coiling fire breathers were on my side, I’d take them.

But naturally, no one was listening. Grandma and Dimitri had eyes—and arguments—only for each other.

“Oh sure.” Grandma threw her hands out like an Italian grandmother. “You’re not giving my grand-baby half-depleted magic. Besides, it’s perfectly safe as long as the demons can’t see her.”

Dimitri shot her a dark look as he crunched past me, inspecting the perimeter of the Cave of Visions. The witches cast long shadows in a circle around us. They moved with military precision, dozens of Red Skulls carrying blue and silver candles.

Grandma nodded to each of the Red Skulls as they lined up. “A little extra juice, in case you need it.”

I’d take all the help I could get.

Dimitri returned, wrapping his arms around me as he tugged me into a long shadow cast by the roof of the wagon. There were dark circles under his eyes. “Keep your grandma busy. I’m going to cast some protection for you,” he said, his breath warm against my ear. I fought the urge to sink into him and nodded instead.

“You’ll be okay?” I didn’t know where he found the strength.

His mouth quirked. “Told you I can handle myself.”

Mmm, I ran my fingers lightly along his bare back. What I’d give for another five minutes in that valley.

“Hello?” Grandma stood next to us.

The air chilled my skin as I stepped away from Dimitri. I really wished he could have gone in there with me. But I could do this. I was the only one.

Grandma clapped me on the back. “Okay, here’s the skinny. I can’t go in there and show you how it works because, hey, the demons would see me. But it’s actually very simple.”

“It can’t be,” I said, as she shoved a jar of guppies into my hand. Last time Grandma tried this, she ended up in the first layer of hell.

“Fine, you’re right. It’s dangerous as a barrel of snakes. You happy? The point is, you follow my instructions and you’re golden. So first, watch the fish. We have three fish for you to take inside.”

“Two!” Bob hollered.

“Oh yeah,” Grandma muttered as I watched the guppies swim circles around the dead fish in my jar. “We spelled the fish to be kind of like those canaries they used to take down into mines. An evil spirit tries to take you, they get the fish instead.”

I gripped the jar tighter. “What was just after us?”

“I don’t know. But that’s what got your fish. Now you have two left. The last one dies, you run like hell.”

“Got it.” I could do this.

“We’re sealing you in with a circle. A strong one,” she said as the witches moved to surrounded us. I caught Battina in the crowd, Jan, Sidecar Bob. “Also, there’s a goat skull in there that your Great-aunt Evie used to use in her ceremonies. It’ll help you focus your strength.”

“And the armadillos?” I asked, watching Bob scatter Twinkee bits for the nobbly little things.

“Yes! Armadillo tracks. Their back paw tracks have six distinct points, almost like a pentagram. Very powerful magic. You worry about what goes on in that wagon. Light a candle. Focus on Phil and watch the fish.”

“Okay.” I nodded. I could do this.

“Something goes wrong, run. Try not to bring anything out of there with you.” She hooked a thumb under her necklace. “I’ve got a mess of antidemonic spells, but without any wards in place, they’re basically like tossing Pop-Tarts at a pissed-off lion.”

“Don’t worry, I can do this,” I said. I had to do it.

Dimitri took my hand, more at ease than he had been. His eyes burned green in the moonlight. “Ready?” Seemed he’d worked his magic.

No. There were too many things to say and I didn’t have any idea how to go about it.

He squeezed my hand and planted a kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Right. I planted one foot on the back hinge of the wagon and hoisted myself up. My palm radiated power.