by Angie Fox
Dimitri’s eyes shot from yellow to orange to red. His skin paled and his muscles withered. We had nearly twice as many demons free in Vegas and they were draining him, killing him right before my very eyes.
Demons pounded on the wards until the magic gave way. My demon slayer instincts screamed for me to run headlong into the fray, face the new succubi threat, drive them out as I slogged through the wasteland of Max’s demon blood.
Too bad they had me outnumbered by about forty to one.
Energy rolled down the hall like a wind. I forced myself to stand tall.
As if giving life to my greatest fear, succubi shrieked through the charred holes in the ceiling. Wave after wave, they roiled upon each other until all I could see was black, leathery bodies. The stench of sulfur made it almost impossible to breathe. They surged, red eyes burning with hunger.
Max was dead. Dimitri was dying and I’d be next.
“Sid!” He wanted to be a badass fairy, well, here was his chance. “Sid!” I forced every bit of will, every bit of strength and desperation I had into that one word. “Sid!”
For a moment, the world seemed to slow. I tried to call out again, but couldn’t. And an instant later, I knew why. Time began to slowly rewind itself. The weight lifted from my body. I shifted backward to Dimitri, back to Max’s body, backward until Max and Dimitri fought to the death.
Sid’s voice echoed in my ears. “Told you that you needed my help. Brace yourself. I’m not too good on landings.”
With a pop and a sickening heave, time lurched forward once again.
Dimitri thrust out a fist and caught Max by the throat. Max slammed into the water. He shot to his feet, but Dimitri caught him in midair, hurtling him down again.
“You are a scourge, a plague.” Max breathed heavily, water dripping off him.
“He’ll kill you!” I yelled, directing every bit of will I had at the hunter.
Max, the suicidal jerk, ignored me.
“Dimitri will kill you!”
Max’s mouth quirked at the corner. “Impossible.”
“He’s part slayer, Sherlock. And answer me this—if you die, what happens to the starving demons you’re holding?”
Max touched his side, almost as if he remembered.
I took advantage of the break to squeeze in between them. I laid my palm flat against Dimitri’s chest and tried to work him backward. He didn’t budge.
“If you don’t stop now, Dimitri, you’re going to kill him. His demons will eat you alive.”
And then they’ll come for me.
Dimitri’s eyes—brown, still brown thank goodness—seemed to remember.
“So both of you. Step back!” I ordered, voice cracking. To my amazement, they did.
“Dimitri,” I said to the impossibly handsome, thick-skulled, entirely too focused griffin on my right, “listen to me. You have part slayer in you. Push it and Max dies.” Dimitri stared at Max, his eyes widening slightly.
Max barked out a laugh. “It’s not enough.”
I wanted to wring his thick neck. “Think hard. Remember. You know it is.”
Max unsheathed his last switch star.
“Do it and you die, Max.”
Max’s face, tight with concentration, gave nothing away. “Yes, well I don’t care.”
I didn’t doubt that for a second. On some level, I think Max wanted to die. “That’s all fine and dandy, but I’m not fighting seventeen extra demons just so you can take the easy way out.”
Max could do whatever he wanted—after we stopped the succubi, saved Dimitri and Phil, and kept me from, well, I didn’t know what the dark mark was doing to me.
I glanced at the wards. Battina had done a good job. Barring an attack from Max’s seventeen starving demons, I think we had a minute.
I exhaled. “You are dangerous,” I said to them both.
Dimitri didn’t move. Only the pounding pulse at his neck gave him away.
Max first. I walked up to the scowling angel of vengeance. He wasn’t afraid to die, and I certainly didn’t want to be around when he turned. “I thought I could work with you, but I can’t. Get out of here. Now.”
He stared at me, his face a mockery. I’d done my best to explain to him what was happening and frankly, there was nothing else I could do.
“You won’t make it without me,” he said.
“It’s just too much.” I’d barely kept him and Dimitri from killing each other. I didn’t want to risk round two.
His red eyes blazed with fury. “Suit yourself, slayer.” Max took a backward look at the thinning ward and left us.
I wanted to exhale, but not yet.
Dimitri wrapped an arm around my shoulder and tugged me to him. “Well, that was—”
“I’m not done,” I said, turning to my lover, my protector, my friend. “You are a danger—to yourself and to me. You’re feeding them and you don’t seem to care. You might not have been able to see what could have happened to you just now, but I did.”
Forgive me, Dimitri.
I couldn’t believe I was about to do this, but I didn’t have a choice. I’d asked him to leave with the witches and he’d refused. I told him the danger he was in and he didn’t listen. He’d run me out of options, save one.
My throat felt tight. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
Dimitri looked like I’d punched him in the stomach. He glared at me, shock and betrayal plain on his face. “I don’t believe it.”
Tears welled in my eyes. Dimitri was my first real boyfriend. I was hoping he’d be the first man to tell me he loved me. Despite the witches and the demons and everything that had happened. But that wasn’t going to happen—not now.
He’d changed. And the only way he’d leave is if I left him.
Dimitri touched me on the back of my neck. His hands cooled my skin, even as we felt the presence build. “Lizzie, I love you.” The dark veil lifted and for the first time since we’d gotten here, I could see his true emotions. He stood expectantly, his feelings bare, waiting for me to accept the amazing gift he offered.
Warmth rumbled my spine, threatening to explode. “You love me?” I asked like a complete fool. The practical side of me knew I had to bury it, think instead of a way to get him out of there. The soft side of me wanted to hear it again. Nobody had ever said it to me before, except for my preschoolers. And they said the same thing about Elmo.
Dimitri loved me.
I closed the distance between us, allowing myself a whisper of a kiss on his roughened cheek. It took everything I had to pull away. “If you love me, then leave.”
He paused for a brief moment, searching my face. Whatever was written there, it made him nod.
“Good-bye, Lizzie.” He kissed me softly on the forehead.
Shoulders back, he strode down the hallway and out of my life.
My heart seized as I watched him go. How could this happen to us? He was the first man to really know me, to believe in me. He was the first to tell me he loved me. I willed myself to stand tall when I’d rather curl into a ball and cry.
It had to be this way, no matter how much it hurt.
I touched my fingers to the ancient emerald Dimitri had given me, his promise that he’d always be with me. I held the dead stone to my chin and let the tears come.
Chapter Eighteen
I made my way to the twelfth-floor elevators as hotel workers rushed down the cookie-cutter hallway. Several of them carried bundles wrapped in black velvet. Weapons, I assumed from the glints of silver peeking from underneath.
Yeah, well I just hoped they brought their wards. We’d saved Max and prevented his seventeen demons from escaping. Now if they could hold the rest away from the hotel at least, well, I might have a minute to think.
No telling where Sid had gone after he wound back time. I wondered if it was me calling him or if he’d stuck around because he knew his city needed his help. Either way, I wasn’t one to take a second chance lightly.
&nb
sp; Trying to look inconspicuous in my soaked dress and switch stars, I ducked into an empty elevator as a half dozen bellhops unloaded a massive iron urn from the elevator next to me. I jabbed the lobby button until the heavy doors thunked closed.
Patrons crowded the casino downstairs, gambling and drinking as more hotel staff rushed for the magical thirteenth floor.
I spotted Pirate next to the Keno parlor eating peanuts from an abandoned buffet plate. “Lizzie!” Pirate forgot his meal and dashed across the pink- and green-swirled carpet.
“What are you doing?” I scanned the casino lobby. “Are the witches here?”
“Nope,” he said, snuggling into my arms. “I escaped.”
I sank into a pink casino chair with him.
“So,” Pirate said, “tell me about the fight. You kick some butt?” He closed his eyes as I rubbed his head. “I tried to get up there, but they don’t make elevators with dogs in mind.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
I was relieved, grateful that we’d prevented a tragedy. Yet I’d never felt so alone. There’d be no help from the Red Skulls or Dimitri. I knew I had to let them go, but at the same time, I didn’t know what to do next. The demons were still coming. They’d slowed, but they certainly hadn’t stopped.
The dark mark burned against my palm. It had given me the power to survive—so far—but now what? Was I here, alive, only to watch the demons take Las Vegas?
“Aw, well that’s nice,” Pirate said, roaring out a wide doggie yawn as he settled in next to me. “Let’s go upstairs and get a nap.”
Bless Pirate. “The thing is,” I began, trying to figure out how to explain the last twenty-four hours. I was starting to feel like Jack Bauer. The thirteenth floor was destroyed, the demons wanted the Red Skulls and we had to get out of here ourselves. I needed to figure out my next step, yet one thought tugged at me.
Dimitri loved me.
On some level, I think I knew. I’d certainly craved it. But it was an entirely different thing to have him say it. I loved him too. And it wasn’t because he was strong, loyal and all together devastating in the sack. He was the first man who made me feel like I wanted to be more than Lizzie the superorganized, Lizzie the good girl. True, he hadn’t been himself lately. But I had to think there might be some hope for us yet.
My gut twisted with how I’d let him down. He’d blown into Vegas, thinking he had the power to fight off the succubi. I’d taken that away from him. I’d saved him, but I’d also lied about it. In my defense, we’d just gotten back from the second layer of hell, so I hadn’t exactly been thinking straight. Besides, we’d known each other for less than two weeks. I’ve never been the type to jump into things. It had been too early. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know how he’d feel about’ me—or the fact that he could no longer claim his pure griffin heritage—once he’d had a chance to think.
Fear skittered through me. If we didn’t play this thing right, I might never see him again.
“No,” I said. “It ends here.” I launched myself off the chair.
“Hey, now,” Pirate said, slipping sideways into the spot I’d vacated.
If it was up to me, then fine. I’d figure out how this whole thing started, exactly why—out of all the half fairies—Serena chose Phil. I had to think it was something more sinister than mere chance. Whatever it was, I’d use it to fry the demons.
“We have to think,” I told Pirate. “What does Phil have that could possibly give him any power? We hadn’t seen anything in his house to indicate he was particularly magical. I tried to recall anything out of the ordinary among the wedding brochures, shrine to my retainer and lunch receipts. He didn’t have a strong fairy heritage. What then?”
“Oh, gee, Lizzie. I don’t—”
Blood rushed to my head as it hit me. It was about power, and then some.
I rushed to the concierge desk. “Skeep! I need a Skeep!”
Chapter Nineteen
Eight Skeeps rushed straight for me. “Meko!” I called out to the orange ball of fire. “I have an important mission for you, okay? I need you to find someone who knows the Hoover Dam. Fast.”
Meko zipped away.
Shoot. I hadn’t mentioned I needed someone close by. I wasn’t too eager to stick around with everyone rushing to the emergency on thirteen. Eventually, they were going to start looking around for survivors… or someone to blame.
According to Grandma, Skeeps tended to be literal. I sure hoped fast meant close, and while we were getting specific—connected. I needed to see some things for myself and I doubted Hoover Dam officials were going to let just anybody in. Uncle Phil worked at one of the biggest power-generating plants in the nation.
I tossed my keys to a second Skeep. “Listen, can you send someone to retrieve two Harleys parked at the airport, section L-8?”
“Immediately!” He and my keys disappeared with a large pop.
Twenty seconds later, Meko reappeared.
“My apologies!” he gushed. “I would have been back sooner, but my aura tends to stick.” He shook himself like a wet dog. “I have your expert.”
Son of a gun. It had taken me longer to brush the peanut crumbs off Pirate’s back. How they got there was still a mystery.
“Ezra,” Meko dipped into a row of slot machines against the wall. “We have a guest who needs you.”
A ghostly head emerged from the Lucky 7-7-7 machine. He had sandy red hair and a dusting of freckles along his nose and cheeks. “If I can have a minute to compose myself,” he said, cringing.
“Hey,” I said, trying to imagine his head without the polished slot handle sticking out of it, “you’re one of the doormen, aren’t you?”
“I’m a bellhop,” he corrected.
“Sure,” I said, nodding. I recognized him from when Max had taken me to see the demon prison. It had been a tough night and I’d been impressed with how sweet the bellhop had been. He’d looked real enough to me, well, before he’d poked his head through the slot machine.
The phantom bellhop glided out of the Lucky 7 and hovered a few inches off the floor.
“Hiya, Ezra!” Pirate rushed in, paws out, mouth open, wet doggie nose and tongue at the ready and ended up leaping straight through the ghost.
“You two know each other?” Impossible. I’d only met Ezra once.
The ghost’s shoulders slumped.
“Oh yeah,” Pirate said, winding in, around and through Ezra’s ankles. “He’s been teaching me how to play Scrabble!”
I stared at my dog. “You can’t spell.”
“Not with that attitude.” Pirate plopped his rear onto the carpet.
Fantastic. Pirate had been having people over. “Is this true?” I asked the ghost, already knowing the answer. Pirate could make friends with a garden gnome.
“Aw, Lizzie. Don’t get him in trouble. I asked,” Pirate said. “Just like when Meko took me to Jodi Maroni’s Sausage Kingdom.”
“How?” What had Pirate been doing while I was away? Couldn’t he stay put like a regular dog?
“Easy,” Pirate said, his tail thumping against the floor. “He’s a Skeep and I called him and he said, ‘How can I serve you?’ and I said I’d give anything for a bratwurst.”
Meko glowed with pride.
At least Ezra knew he’d overstepped his bounds. “I’m very sorry,” the ghost said. “I don’t normally visit guests in their rooms. I know it’s a breach of protocol. But his essence called out to me.”
“Um, hum,” Pirate said. “I’ve got one of them special essences.”
He had an essence all right. Wet dog. “We’re going to discuss this later,” I said, more than a little annoyed.
The ghost glanced at my hand and visibly paled. His eyes rested on my devil’s mark.
Was he afraid of me? Okay, yeah, I’d been feeling edgy since I sent Dimitri and the witches away, and the ghost knew he’d been out of line sneaking into my room.
Pirate nudged a cold nose under my hand. “Dan
g, Lizzie.”
The 6-6-6 glowed with an eerie red light. I clamped it against my thigh, ignoring the sizzle that shot down my leg.
Ezra opened his mouth and then closed it, his body flickering.
“Don’t you dare fade on me.” If I had to be the problem solver for every witch, fairy and leprechaun within a fifty-mile radius, he could at least give me the facts. “I’m looking for an expert on Hoover Dam. Is that you?”
Ezra ducked his head and smiled. “Yes, ma’am. I worked as an engineer on Boulder Dam.”
“Sure. Why not?” I said, trying to wrap my mind around the ghost currently scratching the spot on Pirate’s neck that made him thump his back leg. I thought I was the only one who knew about that.
“You can call it Hoover if you like, but it’ll always be Boulder Dam to me,” the ghost said.
Frankly, I didn’t care what they called it. “We’ll need your brains and also somebody who knows what’s going on at the dam right now.”
“I’ll take you to see Joe Lipswitch.”
That surprised me. “You know someone who works there?”
Ezra scoffed. “Joe lives and breathes that place. Spends most of his time in one of the old inspection tunnels off the Nevada spillway. I keep telling him he needs to get out more, but he’s a stubborn one.” Ezra shook his head sadly. “We’ll have to go to him.”
The realization crept over me. “Joe’s dead, isn’t he?”
“High scaling was dangerous work. Lots of guys got hit by falling rocks or those forty-pound jack-hammers they had to have lowered down to them. Joe says it happened so quick, he didn’t feel a thing.”
“And Joe’s the best we have?” I glanced at Meko.
The orb dipped. “Ma’am, it is my job to bring you the best sources, information, snack foods, panty hose or anything else you require. I can assist you with restaurant reservations, tickets to the hottest shows on The Strip and plenty of—”