Angie Fox - ADS 01 - The Accidental Demon Slayer

“What are you making? A counterspell?”

Ant Eater grunted out a throaty chuckle. “Oh no. That’d only make ’em mad. We lure the spells out, then, whomp,” she clamped the lid shut, “back in the slammer.”

“Why are you creating new magic?” Or simply a big mess. “What happens to the old magic?”

Ant Eater guffawed. “God, you are dense, Lizzie. This isn’t magic,” she said, shoving the Snickers-Jack Daniels rat tail mess under my nose. Ew. The pungent aroma of dead rat and whiskey stung my nostrils. “This,” she said, screwing on the lid and shaking the thing up, “is a magical trap.”

Pirate leaped into Bob’s lap and I cringed when Bob scratched Pirate’s head. I knew where that hand had been.

“Choking spells love Snickers,” Bob said. “You can sometimes catch a Disintegration spell too. They go for most anything chocolate.”

“You’re talking like these are live things here.”

Bob blinked. “They are. Our magic is most definitely alive.” Bob thrust his chair backward toward the witch assembly line. He moved forward a few feet, then spun around to face me. “Forget that and you could wind up hurt.” I followed him to the stack of jars already swirling with colored muck. “We’ve cleared out two dozen of the little boogers already.”

“I helped with that one!” Pirate said, dancing in front of a Smucker’s jar filled with a greenish haze. “I call him Larry.” He spun twice. “See? Lizzie, Larry. Larry, Lizzie,” he said, as if making an introduction.

Frieda dashed up to Ant Eater and thrust a jar into her hands. “I think I found it. This has to get rid of the, um,” she eyed me, “issue on the main deck.”

“What are you not telling me now?” Heck with magic spells. I needed a good old-fashioned lie detector around these people.

“It’s nothing,” Frieda tittered about an octave too high and patted her canary yellow hair.

“Ant Eater?”

“None of your goddamned business.” She held the jar to the light and studied the swirling contents. “Thing is, I hate to blast her out of here if we don’t know where we’re sending her.”

“I programmed it for the Poconos,” Frieda told her. “Phoenix likes the mountains.”

“Phoenix?” I asked as Frieda practically jumped out of her platform sandals. How many Phoenixes did these people know…other than my mom?

Frieda gasped. Ant Eater’s fingers tightened on the jar as she continued to swirl the liquid inside.

“Oh now, come on people,” I said. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“Frieda, Bob. Leave us alone,” Ant Eater said, still focused on the jar.

Bob’s wheelchair crunched across the leaves scattered on the ground. Frieda followed, reaching out to catch a ziplock full of mushed snake and stuffing it back into Bob’s pack.

Ant Eater stared daggers at me. “Your mother is dead.”

“Thanks for the sympathy.” Couldn’t these people be honest for five friggin’ minutes? “Hey, I only want to know what’s going on and nobody’s answering my questions.”

“Because, hotshot, what happened to your mom is for you and your grandma to talk about. I’m not getting involved.”

Since when? “Funny, you don’t seem to have any trouble involving me in your messes.” As if it heard me, the riverboat groaned on its moorings. “Grandma could have told me the truth herself, but you know what? I didn’t have much time with her until she was kidnapped and dragged to hell trying to save you.” And me. “The least you can do is tell me the truth when I ask.”

“That’s where it gets hazy.”

“No, it doesn’t! Grandma is accused of killing my mom. There’s no haze. There are the facts, and you owe me an explanation.”

She tossed the jar at my head, and I struggled to catch it. “Seems to me you’re pretty good at figuring things out on your own, lover girl.”

“What? Did you know about Dimitri too?” Probably. Not like they’d tell me anyway. To them, I was just a walking, talking magical bag of tricks—to be used whenever they felt like it. They’d sold me out to the werewolves before I’d even begun my training. Sure, Lizzie will get rid you of a bunch of black souls, no problem! For them. How much worse was it going to be now? Well, I wouldn’t be around to find out. As soon as I rescued Grandma, they could kiss my butt good-bye. A collar jingled, and I caught sight of Pirate out of the corner of my eye. He danced in circles, like he did every time his nerves got the best of him. “Pirate, take a walk.”

“Oh, but Lizzie. This is just getting interesting.”

“Pirate!”

He dispatched a sullen glance before he trotted for a patch of wild ivy.

“You done?” Ant Eater asked. “Because we gotta clear this place out, and you’re not helping.”

“Fine. You want me to help?” I stalked toward the rusted gangplank. If all I was good for was to clear out spells, face demons and basically do their dirty work, I didn’t belong here any more than I belonged in Cliff and Hillary’s big empty McMansion, or in my small boring house. I was sick of trying to be everything to everyone and coming up short every time.

“Lizzie, don’t go in there!”

“Or what? I might inhale a few death spells? Maybe meet whoever you have hidden on the main deck?”

Ant Eater kicked the gangplank and nearly threw me in the water. I leaped the last two feet onto the boat and braced myself in the doorway as I caught my footing.

Her face crumpled with fury. “We never believed that about your grandma.”

I turned to face her. “You didn’t do anything about it, either.” They were a bunch of observers. They ran, they hid. They couldn’t even go on their own friggin’ boat.

The dark spells churned in the musty ship behind me. They stomped and demanded my attention. I’d never been so attracted to danger in my life.

Whether it was anger or my demon slayer instinct to run for trouble, I used my foot to shove the gangplank the rest of the way into the water. If Ant Eater wanted to annoy me now, she’d have to chuck a jar at my head. I didn’t put it past her.

A green-and-white flecked spell danced just inside the entryway. It zoomed for my neck and I swiped it out of the air. It buzzed in my hand like a fly. Choking spell. I crushed it in my hand. A second spell swooped from behind my left ear. I caught it. Giggle spell.

Too perfect. Yeah, it was wrong, but Ant Eater looked so furious down there on the lawn. I hurled the giggler at her and she exploded in a squeal of delight. Her rough-and-tumble body vibrated with titters, her trunk-like legs stomped as if fighting it before they relented and hopped daintily in time to her peals of laughter. Oh yeah. That was the first time I’d felt myself smile since Dimitri and I…I didn’t want to think about it. Ant Eater might try to kill me later, but it was worth it.

The rest of the witches backed up ten paces. Except Bob. “Try to save a few.” Bob tossed me some jars.

“What? Can I put a bunch in one jar?”

“Depends on the species.”

Yeah, well I wasn’t about to stop for a lesson in Magic 101. I’d capture a few of the ornery ones and destroy the worst magic. I’d already seen what could happen when a death spell got out of hand.

“Just don’t trip any Giggle Bombs yourself,” Bob hollered as I ducked inside. “We need you coherent for to night.”

The ship rocked underneath my feet. Slot machines crowded the entryway, as if the Dixie Queen ’s original patrons couldn’t wait to get started. To my right, a roulette table stood abandoned, chips stacked on some of the numbers. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I had interrupted a game. The white wood facade, rotting at the edges and chipped by age, extended back to a matching bar. Old-fashioned gaslight lamps lined the walls. As I watched, flames ignited in the glass bowls. It made me jump enough to rattle the glass jars I held, but I tried to look on the bright side. Nothing had tried to eat me or possess me—yet.