Angie Fox - The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers

The creature burrowed into the belt, his rear end wriggling until there was no more of him to be seen.

“Mystery solved,” Dimitri said.

I glanced up at him. “Hardly.” I gathered up the last few crystals. I’d tackle my powers before worrying about the mysterious creature that lived in the back of my utility belt.

“You should call him Harry,” Dimitri said, giving me a hand and helping me up.

“Why not?” I said, feeling the little guy settle himself in. It was better than Fang.

I talked Dimitri into taking back his shirt before we headed up the main elevator. He carried Phil as the doors closed and the car jerked to a start. I held Phil’s soft, wide hand as the scent of cinnamon filled the small space. Through my exhaustion, I tried to memorize this moment the best that I could. It might be the last time I saw Phil. There was no telling what fairies, or half fairies, did for funerals.

As for how I’d tell Grandma, I didn’t know. My emotions were too raw. I squeezed his hand hard and hoped I’d find the words. I could hardly believe it myself that he was gone.

The elevator opened up into an art deco foyer that led to the outside. Finally, we could get Phil out of this place. I forced myself back into warrior mode, just in case. With a deep breath and switch stars at the ready, I pushed through a set of brass doors.

I about fell backward as Pirate flung himself into my arms, licking everywhere he could reach, which would have been really bad had we been under attack.

“Dang, Lizzie. I leave to get a Twinkie and you disappear on me.”

Relief surged through me. “Are you okay, sweetie?” Hands shaking, I inspected my wriggling dog by the light of a hovering Skeep. “Meko? What’s going on out here?”

The Hoover Dam backed up to Lake Mead and towered over the river on the other side. Witches lined the sweeping highway at its crest, their Harleys at the ready behind them.

The Skeep dipped and glowed brighter. “Many apologies. I’m Tiko, an associate of Meko. We’ve been called here to fetch supplies for your rescue.”

Harleys crisscrossed the bridge every which way, their supernaturally bright front lights cutting through the night in every direction.

Grandma barreled out of the shadows, a Smucker’s jar in each hand. “God damn it, Lizzie. You scared the crap out of me! Oh good. Dimitri. We need you to fly up and—” She screeched to a halt when she saw Dimitri holding Phil’s limp body. “Oh no.”

“Grandma, I didn’t mean—” This was not how I wanted her to find out.

“What?” Frieda asked, seconds behind Grandma. She stopped when she saw. “Oh dang, girl. I am so sorry.”

Grandma took Phil’s hand and for once, she had nothing to say.

“He sacrificed himself for me,” I told her, taking comfort against a bit of unwashed dog.

Grandma nodded, her eyes reddening. “I’d like a moment,” she said, hoarse. Frieda brought us a blanket and we laid Phil right inside the doors. My heart broke a little when the doors clicked closed behind her. I should have done more.

Dimitri wrapped his arms around me from the back and I closed my eyes, savoring the closeness. The warm desert air scattered my bangs over my forehead. I chose to focus on that, rather than on my pounding head or wrung-out body.

Pirate nosed the crook of my elbow. “You okay, Lizzie?”

“I will be,” I said, ruffling his fur between my aching fingers. Keep it together, Lizzie . I couldn’t afford to fall apart now.

Frieda’s heels clacked on the sidewalk. “I know you want to see me as much as a skunk at a lawn party, but we really do need Dimitri.”

“Lizzie?” He ran his hands along my arms.

“I’m fine,” I said, pulling away first. It was good to know he could fly again.

He kissed me on the head and followed Frieda toward the edge of the dam to get what looked to be a trapped gargoyle off a clock tower. I stood with my dog, too exhausted to move, waiting for Grandma, mourning Phil, wondering how it had come to this.

Biker witches scattered along the roadway over the dam. The cars that usually traveled Ala Meda Boulevard were conspicuously absent.

“Well, look who decided to join the fight after all,” a deep voice rumbled.

I about fell over as the angelic blond hunter strolled into the light. He looked like he’d been run over by a truck. “Max,” I gaped. I couldn’t believe he was here. “How?”

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and scowled down at me. “My job wasn’t done.”

My body surged into high alert mode. I was tempted to touch him and make sure he was real. But it had to be Max. I didn’t sense any demonic imposters. Besides, we’d fried or captured every demon within a three-thousand-mile radius.

“Is she dead?” Max asked.

Oh yes. Definitely Max. “Serena’s a demonic grease stain on the floor. Now, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here?”

“Did you think I’d stand by and watch Serena take you?”

Frankly, I didn’t think the man did a day of standing in his life.

Max delivered a biting stare. “Killing demons on my own wouldn’t have solved anything if you screwed up. I told you we needed a slayer to beat her.”

This coming from the person who had encouraged me to keep the dark mark. “I’m glad you made it out,” I told him. And I was.

Dimitri crunched up the road. I’d been so focused on Max I hadn’t even heard him coming. He reached out for Max and I prepared for the fight.

Instead, Dimitri clapped the hunter on the shoulder like an old friend. “Good to see you, buddy.”

Buddy? What on earth had happened since I’d been captured?

Dimitri noticed my confusion and grinned. “We needed Max to get inside the dam. You should have seen the barriers the demons set up.”

I couldn’t believe it. I stared at Dimitri, then Max, the tension draining out of me. “You two actually worked together?”

“I helped,” Pirate said, squirming in my arms. “Joe got Ezra, who got Sid, who got Dimitri. But then nobody understood the message.”

“Ghosts are horrible at getting facts right,” said Max. “That’s why I don’t trust any of them.”

“But I understood,” Pirate said, his tail thwumping my arm. “Ezra and I’ve been playing lots of Scrabble. I know how he thinks. See that’s the trick. You study your opponent like a hunting dog. Sniff out their weaknesses and—whammo!—thirty-six-point word.”

I kissed Pirate on the head. “Ghosts and dogs. I never would have guessed.”

Bob wheeled up, his antidemonic quilt bits flapping in his spokes. “Hey, Lizzie. Glad to see you’re not dead.”

“Me too,” I said. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but what are you guys doing here?”

Bob huffed. “Saving you. What else?”

Max nodded. “Your witches have a gift for focusing power.”

“Red Skulls have always been that way,” said Bob. “We get into trouble and it’s trouble times ten. Frieda works a water spell and it’s the Vegas flood of ‘99.” He grimaced. “Talk about a mess. But you need to intensify a power like Max’s, we can do that too.” He chuckled at the look on my face, which must have reflected my pure and utter astonishment. “And, Ms. Lizzie, when we felt your power grow, we helped you aim your magic.”

I leaned my back against the concrete wall of the dam. Here I thought I had to do everything on my own. I was the Demon Slayer of Dalea, for goodness sake. I’d just assumed that power came with complete and utter responsibility. First Dimitri helped save me, and now the witches had my back. And Max. I didn’t know what to say. This whole time, I’d imagined the Red Skulls as a liability, and Max as someone not to be trusted. Come to think of it, I still wasn’t sure if I trusted Max.