Angie Fox - ADS 01 - The Accidental Demon Slayer

From what I’d seen, Grandma hadn’t slowed down since I met her. “I think she might be trying to learn more about the demon who attacked us in my bathroom.” Or the imps we met on the road.

Frieda crossed her legs and leaned in closer. “She’s trying to get a leg up on Vald. He’s pure evil.”

I remembered her talking about him. “Vald?”

“He’s a fifth-level demon—the worst. Your Great-great Aunt Evie, the last slayer, locked him up in the second layer of hell. He’s been trying to break out ever since. As far as we can tell, he’s close. I don’t even want to think about what he’d try to do to us.” She shook her head. “When—” She paused. “Well, that is to say, after an unfortunate incident with your mother, we’ve been on the run from Vald’s minions. He’s got a nasty streak and an army of sub-demons.”

“What happened to my mother?” From what Frieda had said, it didn’t sound good. But still, I had to know.

“Um,” Frieda cleared her throat. “Your mother…It’s complicated,” she said, embarrassed.

“Please,” I said. “I never met her. I never knew her. But I’d like to know what happened.”

“Oh, sugar.” Frieda patted my leg, the corners of her eyes growing moist. “Your mamma? It’s like this.” She blinked several times, as if trying to decide how to word it. Finally she said, “Your mamma didn’t quite make the cut.”

Call me confused. “What does that mean?”

Frieda squeezed my leg, shooting pain through cuts I forgot I even had. “Truth is, we don’t know what happened to Phoenix.”

“Phoenix? My mom’s name was Phoenix?” Knowing Grandma, she had a tougher name for her Harley. Life must have gotten a bit more rough-and-tumble for Grandma. Heck, she’d been on the run for thirty years.

“Your grandma will explain later.”

“But—”

She threw up her hands, “I’m sorry, baby. I’ve already interfered enough. This is a family matter best discussed with your grandmother.”

Point taken. “Okay, then answer me this: What would happen if Vald came back?” It had to be bad or the coven wouldn’t have put me under their immediate protection. And Grandma wouldn’t have rushed out there tonight.

Frieda worked a bit too long on her answer.

She could sugarcoat it all she wanted. Heck, she could wrap it in cotton candy. I already knew. “He’d come after me, wouldn’t he?”

She blinked. “He’d certainly try. But don’t worry, honey! That’s why we put you under our protection tonight. You’re bound to us now!”

Sure. If I’d been smart enough to actually drink the potion.

“You okay? Here.” She fished a hand down her bra and pulled out an airline bottle of Jack Daniels Tennessee whiskey. She handed it to me and I took a swig.

It burned all the way down to my stomach. Yeah, Lizzie, drink a shot of Jack but not the uber-rare protection potion . I was the worst demon slayer ever.

Frieda finished the bottle. “Got some more under the bed. You want to hang out a bit?”

Definitely. I’d have to stop drinking, of course. I could already feel that shot in my dazed head. Out of all the dumb things I’d done today, getting drunk wouldn’t be one of them. I needed to be sharp, especially if Vald decided to show up.

Frieda dug through the plastic grocery bags under her bed while I took a look at the photos she’d plastered across the wall beside her bed. Most were of Frieda and various witches I’d seen downstairs. And there were two more of the heavy-lidded man whose picture I’d seen in the hallway. Mr. Love in an Elevator. I wondered what had happened to him.

Frieda handed me a bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream liqueur. Darn. I would have had to waste my shot on the Jack. I rolled it between my hands. I should get to the bed they’d given me, but I didn’t want to be alone. Heck, I didn’t even want to think. It was hard enough to let go of the fact that I’d faked my way through the protection ceremony tonight. Me, the person who prized honesty above all things. Then again—I yanked the orange tank top down over my stomach—I wasn’t exactly myself tonight.

An eerie moan drifted up from the yard outside. I reached for Frieda’s bony arm. “What was that?”

“Come on.” She led me over to the window. Years of dirt clouded the glass. I tried to yank it open, but it didn’t budge. Together, we pried it away from the rotting windowsill. Another moan, louder this time, pierced the sounds of crickets chirping in the night. “Your grandma’s having one of her visions.”

I looked out into the copse of trees beyond the back parking lot. Purple rays of light streamed from every joint and corner of the Yardsaver shed. Heaven help her. “Grandma?” I gulped.

The red-headed witch knelt in front of the swinging doors, her arms spread against them as if she held them closed. Her even chants floated out into the night air.

Frieda peeked out beside me. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Scarlet has her covered.”

Yeah, well I didn’t like Scarlet. The snitch. From what I could tell, Grandma needed someone who could think on her feet, not a panicky know-it-all who would rather call the guard instead of having an honest-to-goodness conversation with someone, aka me.

“Come on back, baby,” Frieda said. “We’ll only distract them.”

Scarlet looked pretty intense to me. I hoped Grandma could handle herself. Or if she couldn’t, that Scarlet was half as powerful as the griffin who’d come to our rescue at the edge of the lake.

For the moment, I let Frieda lead me away from the window. We each sat on the bottom of a bunk bed, facing each other. It felt like a twisted version of summer camp. If I heard anything strange—anything—I’d be down there faster than Frieda could blink those crazy lashes of hers.

And since she’d mentioned rescuing, “Frieda, what do you think of Dimitri? He said he’s my protector, but I don’t know. You’d think I would have felt something, kind of like when I met Grandma. Something about her made me feel like I was supposed to be with her.”

Frieda handed me an airline bottle of Smirnoff. “Hard to say.” She plopped onto her side, reached into a plastic Valu-Mart bag on the floor and withdrew her own little bottle of Jägermeister. “He’s helped us out from time to time,” she said, unscrewing the bottle. “Done us some favors. But with guys like him, favors always seem to come with a price tag attached.” She took a long sip. “E-yahhh.” Her bracelets jangled as she wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist. “One thing’s sure. He seems to have taken a shine to you.”

I tipped my Smirnoff bottle back and forth, watching the liquid swirl. No question about it, that man could get my blood flowing. I didn’t know if it was the way he’d looked at me downstairs—like he’d like to devour me whole—or the fact that he probably could. I hadn’t met anyone like him. Heck, I hadn’t run into many interesting guys at all since college. Happy Hands Preschool wasn’t exactly hot date central. It felt good to be pursued. Then again, I wasn’t about to lose my head just because some hunka hunka burning male rescued us from the side of the road. “I don’t trust him. It’s too convenient. He has to want something.”

Frieda waggled her brows and I felt my face warm.

“Besides…that,” I added. Oh lordy, I had to stop thinking about that kiss. I had no business indulging in mildly shocking, utterly delectable forays with my mysterious Greek protector. He belonged in their world. Not mine. As soon as I learned to control my powers, I’d be back to my normal life, and that didn’t include men whose eyes flashed yellow and who hung out with griffins.