by Angie Fox
“Okay, Mr. Agenda. Point taken.” I didn’t care if he was mad. I touched the bronze armor molded to my chest. Dimitri had gotten what he wanted.
Ant Eater wore the expression of a soldier who had just returned from battle. Her eyes were hollow, her features taut. She pounded a skinny red coffee stirrer against the restaurant table with the rat, tat, tat of a machine gun. Green soot dusted her curly gray hair.
I slid into the booth across from her, wanting her to speak, but wary all the same. I knew it would be bad news.
And I was right.
“Your grandma has been taken,” she said with about as much emotion as if she were telling me my car was wrecked or my condo needed a new air-conditioning system. It seemed Ant Eater was nothing if not practical.
I knew Grandma wouldn’t have left the coven until every last witch made it out, but it hurt to hear she hadn’t escaped. “What do you mean taken? By who? And why aren’t you trying to get her back?” Grandma had been a member of the Red Skulls for decades. These people were her family. What were they doing sitting around Shoney’s?
Ant Eater slammed her hand on the table and the coffee stirrer went flying. “Don’t you even start on me, hotshot. You’re the reason we lost her.”
I willed myself to stay calm. “Pirate, why don’t you go see if Sidecar Bob needs any help.”
“Oh, but Lizzie, I missed you.” His large, black eyes pleaded with me. “And now I have you and you’re right here and I don’t want to leave you.”
“Pirate.” I hated to be stern with him, and I wanted nothing more than to hold my doggy tight, but I had a feeling this was about to get ugly. Reluctantly, Pirate obeyed.
I squared my shoulders and faced Ant Eater. From her accusation, you would have thought I’d trussed up my grandmother myself. No getting around it, though. I was supposed to be there. A wave of guilt crashed over me. They’d offered me their protection because they knew this was coming. I’d let them down. If I’d found a way to stay, I might have been able to prevent this. “I had no idea…” I began.
“Save it,” she snapped. “Vald approached like a stale wind from the north. We’re Southern witches. It’s harder for us to detect a northern presence. But your Grandma Gertie, she knew. By the time she found us, every one of us was facedown in our possum stew.” She planted her elbows on the booth table between us. “See, demons like Vald aren’t all fire and brimstone. They’re sneaky. Sure they enjoy the stark terror on your face before they steal your soul, but they’d just as soon swipe it from you when you’re not looking.”
Incredible. “Is that what he wanted? Your souls?”
“If he’d cared enough, he’d have had ’em.” She paused, no doubt enjoying the stark terror on my face. “No.” She shook her head. “He wanted you.”
“Me?” I practically stammered. I didn’t know anything. Even if I was supposed to be some almighty demon slayer.
“Don’t play stupid.” She banged her hand on the table and sent the salt and pepper shakers flying. “Vald is stronger than we thought. Our protection spell—that potion you drank—should have bound us all together. We would have known he was coming for you. You would have felt it too. We should have been able to beat him off, or at least stall him enough to escape. I don’t know what happened,” she said, eyeing me accusingly.
Oh no. Dread swelled inside of me. It was my fault. Grandma had shown me nothing but respect and honesty since I’d met her, and this is how I paid her back. If it weren’t for me, she’d be at the Red Skull bar with her friends, doing what she’d been doing for the last fifty years. Instead, I’d hopped on her bike and screwed up her life worse than she could have ever done to mine. And it happened because I was a coward, because I couldn’t accept her or her potion. I was the worst kind of hypocrite, and I really hated that. “I didn’t mean…”
Ant Eater yanked a sawed-off shotgun from the seat behind her and leveled it at me. I lost my breath as I gaped down the enormous barrels of the gun. She jabbed it forward, and it nudged my left breast. A chill seeped from the cold metal and crept right through me.
“You fucked up,” she said, low and deadly.
Off to my left, I heard Dimitri cock a gun. I stole a glance. He aimed a pistol at Ant Eater’s head. The restaurant had gone silent as a graveyard. She’d shoot me. I knew she would.
“You aren’t fit to be family,” she said. “I’d like nothing better than to put a cap in your ass right now.”
Frieda slipped into the booth next to me, shaking. That made two of us. “Put the gun down,” she ordered, her voice steadier than her body. “You know Lizzie is the one person who can save Gertie. I don’t care what you think about Lizzie. Shoot her now and you’ll never see Gertie again.”
Tears welled in Ant Eater’s eyes. She gritted her teeth, her gold cap gleaming with spittle.
In one fluid motion, she launched herself out of the booth and stormed for the bathrooms. The ladies’ door slammed behind her and every one of us breathed a sigh of relief.
“Oh, Frieda,” I said, wanting to hug her. Every bone in my body had turned to mush. “Thank you.” I really hadn’t wanted to test that armor.
She slid into the seat across from mine, more serious than I’d ever seen her. “Save it for someone who gives a damn. I wasn’t kidding when I said you were the only one who can help your grandma. I hoped Ant Eater would be able to put it a little better, but the truth is Vald has Gertie. He’s taken her back with him—to hell.”
Frieda raised an eyebrow as my jaw fell open. “Oh yes, buttercup. Hell is real. And there is no escaping without a slayer. You.”
I blanched. No way was I ready for this. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready.
Frieda didn’t seem to care. “Now Vald hasn’t been able to get Gertie all the way into the second layer of hell. She’s weak, but she’s fighting like a double blast of dynamite. She’s clinging to the first layer,” she said, battling tears. “No question about it, your grandma is a fighter. But she can’t hold out forever. No one can.”
Tears burned the back of my eyes. Poor Grandma! I felt so helpless. She was suffering horribly and it was my fault and I didn’t know how we were going to get her out of there. And to twist the knife further, I still couldn’t understand why she ended up there in the first place. “What does that demon want if he doesn’t want her soul?” I asked, trying to hitch my voice above a whisper.
“He wants you to go after her. And you can! You can defeat him, Lizzie. You have the power. You just need to learn how to use it.”
Frieda burst into tears. There was something she wasn’t telling me. And if it was even more mortifying than Grandma being tortured in hell, I couldn’t imagine what it could be. “We need you trained yesterday. You’re the only one who can enter the second layer of hell and defeat Vald.”
“Me?” Holy Hades. “Grandma was supposed to be the one to teach me,” I said, rapidly losing all hope. “Who else is there?” Please don’t let it be Ant Eater. She’d shoot me in the kneecaps every time I made a mistake. And I knew I’d make plenty.
Frieda took a deep breath, not liking her answer any more than I probably would. “That’s the thing. No one else is qualified to train you. Except him.”
We both cast a glance at Dimitri. He towered over the booth, his arms crossed over his chest. “I said I’d do it. Lizzie is safe in my hands. As long as we do it my way.” He shifted his stance. “Now what is this I hear about Lizzie working for the werewolves?”
Oh no. This was no time to bargain. I couldn’t help resenting him for trying to be practical at a time like this.
Frieda frowned, clearly uncomfortable in her role as the coven spokesperson. “We worked out a deal with the werewolves in exchange for their help this morning. Think of it as a training run, Lizzie. It’ll be good practice for you.”
I nodded, my head bobbing while my brain spun furiously. I had to train to be a demon slayer and work a job for a mercenary group of werewolves, all the while my grand
mother fought Vald as he tried to suck her into the second layer of hell. Oh geez. I couldn’t do this. I’d never had this much responsibility in my life, not to mention this many people counting on me.
I had to ask the question burning the back of my brain. Maybe if I asked it out loud, it wouldn’t be as scary.
“What if I screw up?”
Frieda eyed me, as serious as death. “You can’t, Lizzie. You just can’t.”
I was afraid of that.
Chapter Ten
I jogged after my new trainer—the only man who could help me save Grandma—as his boots crunched across the parking lot. One hushed conversation with the red-headed witch and instead of training me, Dimitri made a beeline for the bike we rode in on.
“Where in Narnia do you think you’re going?”
He slammed to a halt, and I nearly ran into the back of him. “Back to hell,” he growled. “Or at least as close as we’ve got to it around here.”
What had Scarlet said to get him riled up like this? I didn’t know and, frankly, I didn’t care. Well boo frickin’ hoo. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“You don’t own me, Lizzie.” He stalked toward the bike, yanking on his black leather gloves. “Besides, we’re not going to get too much training done without your switch stars. They’re back in my wreck of an SUV, along with something else I have to retrieve.” His eyes bored into mine. “Now.”
“Don’t you give me that,” I said, keeping pace with him. If anyone had a right to be annoyed, it was me. Everyone was counting on me, on us. “You’re a selfish jerk, you know that?” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Umhum. And you know what? That’s fine. When you’re finished training me, you can build a tent and camp out there for all I care. But right now, your job is to help me get Grandma back. So get your buns back here and teach me, damn it.”
He appeared to think about it for a nanosecond. “No,” he said, checking the knife at his hip. And the knife in his boot. And the dagger in his back pocket. Holy Hades.
“Dimitri!” We didn’t have time for this. Grandma was in the first layer of hell—and sinking. Ant Eater lent me out to the werewolves on what sounded suspiciously like a demon hit job and now Dimitri—my protector, my trainer—was about to ride off.
“This Harley’s not leaving until I say so.” I dashed around him and climbed up on the bike, my tiger-striped pants catching on the leather seat, my feet not quite reaching the running boards.
Yeah, yeah, he could have lifted me off like an afterthought. But I had a feeling he was a closet gentleman. Or at least not the type of guy to toss me Jerry Springer style off the bike.
I was right.
“You don’t get it, princess.” He glowered at me. “This isn’t about us.”
“Then what’s it about?” This was not the time for Dimitri to be holding out on me. Again.
“Look,” he snapped. “We had a deal, remember? I train you. You do as I say.”
In his dreams. “Our deal is simple. You train me. Now.”
He dug a hand through his thick dark hair. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll get you started. But then I’m out of here.” He brought up a finger. “Now, listen. If you want to help your grandma, you need to master the Three Truths.” He counted them off on his fingers like he was the preschool teacher. “Look to the outside. Accept the universe. Sacrifice yourself.”
Oh, help me Rhonda. I knew this drill. Give the demon slayer a bunch of busywork while Grandma suffered and he raided the Red Skull for some hoo-ha bit of dangerous magic Ant Eater probably had brewing in the men’s toilet.
“I’m not trying to pull anything over on you,” he said, the corner of his mouth twisting into a wry smile. “Trust me.”
“Like I did right before you chained me to a tree?”
“Hey,” he barked. “I was out of options.” His eyes softened and he gripped my wrist, sliding his thumb over the sensitive skin underneath. He leaned close enough to kiss. “Besides, it wasn’t all bad, was it?”
He’d held me against that tree and done delicious things. I fought back a blush just thinking about it.
“In your dreams.” Dang, he was 100 percent male and he was going to be a pain in my rump if I didn’t watch it. For some girls, it would be the ultimate fantasy to receive a huge, honking emerald from a man like Dimitri. But I knew all too well about the strings attached.
I’d felt his kiss right down to my toes. Right before he chained me to a walnut tree.
Well he wasn’t going to schnooker me this time. I ducked out of his embrace. “You are not getting on this bike.”
He threw one leg over the Harley and slid in front of me before I knew it. He tossed a wicked grin over his shoulder before he slowly, intentionally used his firm backside to nudge me into the passenger’s seat. I could feel the heat rolling off him. He held me there, against the back bar of the bike, the stitching of his Levi’s practically burning a brand into my leather pants.
Sweet switch stars.
“Are you two done?” asked Scarlet. I felt the color rise to my cheeks. I hadn’t even seen her walk up. “We don’t have much time before there’s nothing left to save.” She frowned. “And Lizzie, you need to go get your dog.”
Pirate had the worst timing. “What’s he doing?” I fought back visions of a ruined Rootin’ Tootin’ Breakfast Bar.
She looked at me like I’d sprouted wings. “How should I know? Frieda took him to the trailer where you’ll be staying.”
New visions of a trailer full of shredded toilet paper. “Did he eat first?” Pirate liked to shred things when he was hungry, or bored, or excited or really whenever he felt like it.
“I don’t even want to know what you’re talking about,” she said. “Just get over there. Your roommate can’t stand dogs.”
Roommate? Well, it made sense. The werewolves did have to take in a whole coven. “I would have thought a werewolf would like dogs, you know, due to the whole species thing.”
Dimitri blanched.
Scarlet rushed to explain. “We’d never put you with a werewolf. Do yourself a favor right now, Lizzie, and don’t trust a single one of them. Especially Rex. He’s gunning for the alpha slot and you do not want to be within ten miles when that happens.” She glanced at Dimitri. “Hopefully, we’ll be out of here before the shit hits the fan. Just remember, coven stays with coven. You’re in the second trailer behind the Dumpster. You can’t miss Ant Eater’s bra rack out front.”
“What?” It was my turn to blanch. “You put me with that crazy woman?”
She seemed unaffected by my naked distress. “Ant Eater is in charge now, and that’s the way she ordered it.”
“She pulled a gun on me in a crowded restaurant! What’s she going to do when we’re alone? No. I won’t do it.” Come on. Dimitri had to back me on this.
Scarlet shook her head. “It’s a done deal, Lizzie. Do what Gertie would have done,” she suggested. “Buck up.”
“Oh, no you don’t. Don’t start preaching my grandma back to me.” If she thought for a minute she’d sway me with a low-down, dirty tactic like that, she was crazier than Ant Eater.
“Consider it your first test,” Dimitri said, eerily confident in my questionable abilities.
He ran a familiar hand down my leg as I climbed off the bike. He only got away with it because I was in shock. Then he settled on a meaningless demon slayer Truth that wouldn’t help me rescue Grandma and certainly wouldn’t do me any good now. “Accept the universe, Lizzie.”
“Oh yeah. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
He fired up the engine and peeled off down the road.
“What am I supposed to do with that?” I asked Scarlet as she buckled her helmet. She shrugged, gunned her engine and took off after him.
I couldn’t believe it. Dimitri insisted he was my protector, demanded to train me and as soon as I actually wanted him around, he took off.
As for his demon slayer Truths, he might as well have handed me a cross-stitched
doily with Don’t worry. Be happy! for all the good three lousy sayings would do me right now. I’d never save Grandma with him as my mentor. Heck, I might not even survive ten minutes in a trailer with Ant Eater. Accept the universe.
“Screw the universe.” I needed some switch stars.
Dimitri had better get back quick because there was no way I would wait a second longer to start training and no way I’d live long anyway in a rusted-out trailer with Ant Eater. Clouds rolled across the sky and the air felt like it was going to rain any minute. I stomped over tufts of weeds and various other lawn junk as I zeroed in on the trailer with a front porch full of bras. No telling why Ant Eater had fled with her motorcycle bags full of bras rather than her über-rare herbs. No telling why Ant Eater did anything.
The magical do-it-all breastplate began to hum. Even Dimitri’s emerald knew I was in trouble. I kicked an empty Budweiser can across the field. “Frickin’ Dimitri and his two-ton emerald. If I could do it again, I’d tell him to stick it in his ear.” The metal warmed against my skin. I held my breath. It was doing it again.
The hum turned into a steady vibration. Creepy, creepy, creepy. Think of something else. Yeah, right.
I stood motionless as the bronze metal slid over my skin, reforming into—what? I cringed to think what I needed now. I closed my eyes and wished for a full suit of medieval armor. That could come in handy against Ant Eater.
Alas, my mystic emerald had a mind of its own and I soon found myself the proud own er of a metal helmet that refused to come off. Goody. I couldn’t keep my hands off my head as I walked the rest of the way to the trailer. It felt like a baseball cap without the brim. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just unnerving.
Ant Eater better not try to whack me in the grape with a baseball bat. My fingers probed the intricate designs of the helmet and skittered over the teardrop emerald embedded front and center.
“Okay, stop fiddling with the hat and face the music,” I told myself as I stood in front of the trailer I was going to share with Ant Eater.