Angie Fox - ADS 01 - The Accidental Demon Slayer

Score a point for the demon slayer. “What do you mean, that’s it? What else can go wrong?” Unless they’d found another possessed werewolf on my yellow flowered throw rug and imps in my underwear drawer.

I slid past her and threw open the door. Frieda practically fell inside. She’d chipped all the cotton-candy pink nail polish off one hand and had started in on the other.

“Horse feathers, Frieda!” We’d told the Red Skulls to run. I appreciated the support, but at the same time, we were trying to get her and the Red Skulls out of danger. “You should have left when you had the chance.”

She twisted her plastic beaded necklace between her fingers. “You think I don’t know that?” she snapped. “Heavens to Betsy, I was scared out of my skivvies for you in that trailer.” She eyed my switch stars, glowing pink. “What happened? What are we going to do?”

There was no “we” about it. The Red Skulls had to get out of there. From what I’d seen in that trailer, I had the distinct feeling we’d already sprung the trap. The Red Skulls were caught up in a dangerous game of werewolf politics. Whoever won, I knew it wouldn’t be us.

Ant Eater poked her head out of the rusting car and scowled at Frieda. “Holy hell, blondie, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a death wish.” She hitched up her leather pants. “Tell the coven I meant it when I said to bail out.”

Frieda hesitated, clearly worried about us.

“Lizzie and I will go after JR. We owe him. Besides, it’ll give you guys enough lead time to escape. We’ll meet up at the Dixie Queen .”

Frieda nodded, twisting her necklace into new knots. Ant Eater glanced at me. We’d take the fallout if we failed—and if we succeeded. It was the best way for the rest of the witches to escape.

I was ready. Still, I couldn’t help thinking about Pirate. “Take good care of my dog, will you?” Tears burned the backs of my eyes. I didn’t know what he’d do without me. Or what I’d do without him if…

Frieda gave me a little hug. “Bob has him. We’ll take good care of him.” To Ant Eater she said, “We’ll be packed and out in ten minutes.”

Ant Eater slapped her on the butt as she left. Together we watched Frieda dash across the uneven field in platform sandals.

“So what’s the Dixie Queen ?” I asked her.

“Hideout number four hundred and twenty-six. A mothballed Mississippi cruise and casino boat. The beds suck, but the roulette wheel still works. Least it did in ’88.”

“You know, you should go with them,” I told her.

She puffed out her cheeks, still watching Frieda. “Yeah? Who’s gonna watch your pansy ass?”

I had to think I could do this. If I couldn’t, Ant Eater probably wouldn’t be able to save me anyway. At the Dumpster, Grandma had told me what it meant to sacrifice myself.

It amazed me how well Grandma knew me after our short time together. She’d been dead accurate when we talked out by the Dumpster. I always did type out my grocery list on the computer. I never had a library late fee and I never did anything crazy until she showed up at my door. “Grandma said I needed to be more half-ass.”

“Oh and now you’re going to listen?” Ant Eater snorted.

“Yeah,” I said, enjoying the moment.

Grandma said it herself. The last slayer had the power to lock Vald away. I had the power to destroy him.

“Vald wants you,” Ant Eater said.

I knew it.

“If he finds you before you’re ready,” she said, “he could kill you. Or worse.”

“Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Candy ass.”

“Road bitch.”

She took a deep breath, then blew it out, watching the bobbing lights in and around the far trailers as the Red Skulls prepared to flee. “I’d slit my wrists if anything happened to the coven.”

“Go.”

She shoved herself away from the rusting hippie van. Before she could get far, I reached out and snapped her bra. She didn’t turn around, but I heard her chuckling as she jogged out into the night.

Fang and about a dozen werewolves led me down a narrow path into the woods. Dozens of flashlights bounced off the darkened trees. I didn’t miss the two large bodyguards who slipped behind me, cutting off any hope of escape. I kept my focus on the trail.

Show no fear .

It would have been nice to have some warning, especially since Dimitri knew about JR. Then again, what could I have done?

Gee, Lizzie. I hope you get this demon slayer thing down soon because my friend JR is possessed and his dad, the alpha wolf, is going to kill you if you don’t fix it. Oh, and Rex might kill you anyway. If he doesn’t sell you out to Vald, the fifth-level demon, instead .

And where was Dimitri? With JR, I hoped. We’d been walking for about a half hour, deeper and deeper into the woods. I knew we were getting close. I could touch the fear sizzling in the air like an angry mob clamoring for release. I chewed at my lip, every nerve on high alert. It felt like we were walking into an ambush.

The path opened up on an isolated cemetery. These were old graves, or at least they’d seen better days. Mausoleums scattered across the wide open ground, topped with crosses, angels and crescent moons. Many of the wolves bowed their heads as they passed through the iron gates.

Rex did not.

A stream must have run nearby. I could smell dampness. The crickets and other creatures of the night seemed to have abandoned this place. The air felt heavy and foreboding.

I didn’t like it one bit.

A hollow pounding tore through the night, like a cannon firing on sheet metal. I swallowed my fear and jogged past a series of low graves, toward the source of the noise. Past an altar to the full moon, I saw it—a shadow deep in the cemetery.

On high alert, I traveled around a cluster of silo-shaped mausoleums beyond the altar. These graves held the remains of several alphas and their families. Crowned half moons carved in stone topped each tomb. I ran my fingers along the inscription, common to each round mausoleum. Never backed into a corner . Glad they didn’t have that problem. I sure did.

At least a dozen werewolves massed behind me. As I came closer to the source of the noise, I could see a dented horse trailer chained to a thick tree. It shook on its hinges like the Tasmanian Devil himself whirled around inside.

Now what was I supposed to do with that?

A hairy, clawed hand tore at the tiny window at the top. A snout followed—pulsing as it sucked air.

I turned to a scowling werewolf behind me. “Don’t tell me that’s—”

We heard a high-pitched whir, like eighty blenders grinding ice.

The ground shook. Dimitri shot out from behind the trailer, waving his hands as he made a mad dash for us. “Back! Back! Back!” He grabbed me and we tumbled behind the closest alpha tomb.

Red-hot air shot past us and the sickening smell of sulfur assaulted my nose. I was smushed between Dimitri’s warm body and a slightly wet patch of grass, but frankly, I didn’t care about the cold seeping through my khakis. His weight on top of me, though slightly suffocating, was at the same time solidly comforting. He didn’t know how glad I was to see him. I clutched him tight, closed my eyes and focused on his deep, heavy breaths and clean scent. It felt good to have an ally.

Before I knew it, Dimitri stood. He reached a hand down to help me to my feet as he squinted against the dust in the air. Every single werewolf, in front of us and behind, lay scattered in the grass.

“They’re stunned.” Dimitri blew out a breath. “I hope. Anyhow, we have to focus on JR. It’ll take him a few minutes to build up his strength again.”

We made a beeline for the trailer. His fingers danced over the locks as he yanked them open, one by one.