by Angie Fox
"Yes, but he's doing it to destroy a demon." At a huge sacrifice to himself. I might not agree with how he did it, but it didn't make the demons any less dead.
Dimitri's jaw tightened.
"Fine," I said. "We'll agree to disagree." It seemed like we'd been doing that far too often lately. "The only thing I can't figure out is how my Uncle Phil fits into any of this."
Dimitri considered it, his expression darkening. "If the succubi are planning a war, fairies could be incredibly useful. That's right. Grandma said the fairies could anticipate events, fly undetected, even change the near future.
"But Uncle Phil's only half fairy."
"Exactly. He's half human. They can get to him." He took my hand, heading for the door "Come on."
Excerpt from The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers:
Fairies: a species of magical creature that will drive you insane if you let them.
Chapter Fifteen
We jammed our Harleys into gear and drove straight to McCarran International Airport.
"Let me do the talking," Dimitri said, as we left our bikes in short-term parking.
It sounded good to me, considering I didn't quite understand who I'd be talking to, anyway. I had a feeling I'd be adding another chapter to my demon slayer handbook.
"The fairies in Vegas have to stay on the down low," Dimitri continued, taking my hand as we walked. "Did you wonder why the DIP office sent you a fairy?"
"Because he's good at going undetected?"
Dimitri nodded. "Also because he's expendable."
"Ouch."
"In a lot of places, fairies are considered second-class citizens. Vegas is no exception. They don't allow fairies anywhere near casinos or gaming halls. They're not even permitted inside the airport here. Management is convinced they'll make a break for the slot machines." He rubbed a thumb along a sensitive spot near my wrist and I had to force myself to stay on track.
I leaned into him as we walked. "What and influence the near future?" The magical world had much bigger problems than a few gambling wee folk.
"Gambling is big money here. And it wouldn't just be the fairies who win big. If a person's will is strong enough, they can compel a fairy to do their bidding—in big ways and in small."
No wonder Sid Fuzzlebump was so defensive.
We jogged across two lanes of traffic to the taxi stand outside the Arrivals gate. "They used to burn fairies as witches in the Middle Ages," Dimitri said. "Hold up. Dispatch said he'd be here soon." He found us a spot next to the taxi line. Dimitri watched traffic as he continued his explanation. "These days, ninety-nine percent of the population would never recognize a fairy. I saw one in Tulsa once, working as a TV weatherman. But as a race, they have trouble assimilating. A lot of the premier athletes, Wall Street types, successful literary agents you see are only a small part fairy. They don't even know they're influencing the future."
I hated to state the obvious, but… "It seems like fairies could do a lot of good."
"Pure fairies aren't interested in making their mark in the human world," Dimitri said, "and most magical places ban them."
"That seems kind of harsh." Good thing Uncle Phil was only part fairy. Still, his mom must have had it rough.
"I don't make up the rules," Dimitri replied. "In any case, expect the fairies you meet to be on guard. Don't take it personally."
"But if they're not allowed inside the airport, where—?"
"There!" Dimitri lunged forward into traffic, taking me with him.
An aquamarine Gossamer Cab veered away from us, jamming into a mass of taxis right before an airport limousine blocked our path. We sprinted past a honking BMW and a Ford F-150 exhaling hot engine air. We dashed alongside the limo and when I thought we'd make it around, we almost missed the cab again as the light ahead turned green and traffic surged. Dimitri yanked the door open and I dove in, with him right behind.
Sid Fuzzlebump, DIP officer and cab driver, glared at us through the rearview mirror. "Get out of the cab. I'm off duty."
Dimitri slammed the door closed behind him. "Like you didn't see this coming."
"Contrary to popular belief, I don't know everything. Now scram."
"We need to talk." Dimitri said. "It's not like the DIP offices are going to send us another fairy."
Sid threw a stubby hand over the seat and glared over his shoulder at us. "The DIP offices are a little busy trying to verify your count. I was the laughingstock of Temp Area Three when I turned in your esteemed findings." Horns blared behind us. He pounded on his horn in response and made an obscene gesture out the window with a certain stubby finger.
The fairy cursed under his breath. He hit the gas and made a hard left, stopping at the curb as traffic whizzed past. "I did my job. I met you once. Now beat it."
"Did you see anything unusual on your cab route?" I asked. "You said you'd check." I looked him straight in the eye, willing him to answer me, to help us.
"I don't want to talk about it," Sid said. "And stop trying to compel me. It's annoying."
"Fair enough," I said, almost throwing up my marked right hand, catching myself at the last moment. "But we need your help. Phil Whirley is my fairy godfather."
His eyes narrowed. "No kidding. I think I saw your dance recital tape. Nice to meet you. Now vamoose."
"You're the most obnoxious fairy I've ever met," I said, digging into my utility belt. Let him think I'd met more than one.
"And yet you're still here," he sniped.
"Okay, Sid. Let's bargain," Dimitri said. "What will it take for you to help us?"
"Look, you two," the fairy said, the bubblegum air in the car thickening, growing even sweeter. "I'm not talking with you, I'm not going anywhere with you and I'm not driving another inch. I've got enough going on without running a charity for displaced demon slayers. Now scram."
"We need your help," I said, holding up my cell phone. "What is the DIP not telling us? Why would demons want my uncle? Are they going after any more fairies?"
"You want me to bash you over the head with that thing?" He took a swipe for my phone.
I yanked it back and hit the button for a ring tone I should have erased after last Christmas. A chorus of bells blared through the cab. Fairies hated bells.
Dimitri looked like he wanted to kiss me.
"Gaaa!" The cabbie threw his hands over his ears. "Stop it! Shut it off!"
I hit the volume until it maxed out at ten.
Sid cringed. "We'll talk. Did you hear me?" he yelled, "We'll talk!"
I snapped the phone shut. "It's a deal."
"Yeah, well goodie, goodie gumdrops," Sid muttered, flooring it.
Sid the fairy hit every green light as we sped straight east down Highway 160.
"So?" I asked.
Sid ground his fingers around the wheel. "Yes, okay? The demons have been going after fairies for the past few years. They haven't been able to catch a full-blood. We don't keep track of the rest."
The cab's radio crackled and Sid picked it up. "Fuzzlebump here."
Sid took much longer than he needed to talk to dispatch. Yeah, well the fairy could stall all he wanted. We weren't getting out of this cab without some answers.
I flopped back onto the seat. "Why taxis?" I asked Dimitri. "Why not highway construction or farming or anything else you can do outside of town?"
"Fairies like to stick to the same routes their ancestors traveled," Dimitri said. "This way, they can draw on the strength of their community while they work their magic. They know which traffic spots to avoid, they can keep lights green longer, steer out of accidents. Fairies can tell by looking who'll tip them, who will have the higher fares."
And who would be trouble.
Sid cranked up the theme song to American Bandstand, a dance tune guaranteed to get into my head worse than any demon.
"The thing is," I said, leaning over the front seat, catching a strong whiff of bubblegum. It wouldn't hurt to have Sid on our side, or at least understand
where we were coming from. "Last month, when I thought of fairies, I pictured Tinkerbell."
He raised his bushy brows.
"Now I picture my fairy godfather. He saved my life, and I'm going to save his."
Sid huffed, his ears reddening.
"My uncle's name is Phil Whirley. He's half human."
Sid's bushy brows lowered. "Then he's not very powerful."
"Whether that's true or not," I said, refusing to get into fairy politics, "a succubus has him."
The pudgy fairy squirmed in his seat. "Look, I'm sorry to hear about your loss, but let's not drag everybody else into this, okay?"
"He's not lost." I hoped. "She married him. We watched it happen. There's something she wants bad enough to keep him alive. But she controls him, body and soul. Any idea why she'd do that?"
He rubbed his lips together while considering the question. Finally, he said, "Well you're right about one thing. By marrying him, she took control. As far as why? I have no idea. If your uncle is only half fairy, he can't do much about the future other than give someone a lot of luck." Sid made a right turn onto Wayne Newton Boulevard. "Whatever she wants him for, it isn't fairy magic. He's not powerful enough."
Focus. "If they don't want him for his magic," I said, more sharply than I'd intended, "what in the world—"
The fairy stiffened. "Switch your ring tone."
It took me a moment to understand. "On my phone?" I asked. My phone wasn't ringing.
I dug it out of my utility belt and found the ringer switch. "Sure." I turned off the fairy bells.
"Good. Now answer this—after you try to save your uncle, why do you give a rip about a bunch of fairies? And no games. I'll know if you're lying."
"I'm in it to stop the she-demons," I said, "once and for all."
"You would have to say that."
The phone in my right hand chirped. I glanced down at the Caller ID.
Grandma.
"Answer it, hot stuff," Sid said, lurching the cab into a U-turn.
I grabbed the seat in front of me and held on. "Are you influencing the future?"
"Oh yeah, I'm conjuring up all kinds of goodies," he said, an eye on my ringing phone. "Now answer the damned phone."
With dread pulsing in my temples, I flipped open the phone.
"Lizzie!" Ant Eater's voice sounded hollow, and about a million miles away. "Get back here! We're under attack!"
Not the demons. They couldn't break through the wards.
"Incoming!" she hollered before the line went dead.
I dashed down the ordinary twelfth floor and thrust open the door to the stairwell. My demon slayer senses told me there were three of them waiting up there. Three. Could I even handle that many? I had no idea. I just hoped the witches had made it out all right. And poor little Pirate.
Don't think about it.
My boots pounded on the concrete stairs to the maintenance closet that led to thirteen. I shoved my keycard at the door, hit it wrong and broke the thing in half. Criminy!
Dimitri wedged his into the slot.
The air in this hallway used to be stale and metallic. Now the only thing I could smell was the sulfur stench of demons.
I ducked past Dimitri and threw open the closet door, switch stars ready.
Where were they?
The waters of the magical hallway churned with a murky froth, like the ocean after a hurricane. They'd gone from crystal clear to dishwater gray. A dead fish floated past, tangled in seaweed. I stepped in and pitched forward when the waters of the hallway swallowed me to the knees.
"What the… ?" I stumbled three feet and braced my hands on the opposite wall. The water had gone from tropical to downright chilly. Before, it had lapped at my toes, but left them dry. Now, I was wet. And cold.
Goose bumps skittered down my legs.
The sulfur in the air made my eyes water. I could actually taste it in the back of my throat.
I fought back a wave of nausea.
Half the chandelier lights had been ripped from their sockets. Every Skeep post down the long corridor stood empty. It was like a bomb had gone off on the thirteenth floor. The air sizzled with energy, and yet the silence was deafening.
Like all hell had broken loose.
Dimitri braced his hands on each side of the closet doorway. I'd never seen him so resolute, or so terrifyingly vulnerable. I could almost see them suck him dry.
Well, not if I had anything to say about it. I waded back through the frigid water, grabbed his key card, and slammed the door before he knew what I was doing.
"Lizzie!" He pounded on the door.
I ignored him. He had to trust me on this one.
Who was I kidding? I had to trust myself.
I could feel them stalking me.
Shadowy forms floated beneath the surface of the water in the hallway. Despite the chill, sweat pooled under my arms and on my palms. I wiped my switch star hand on my shirt and began wading toward Battina's room full of wards.
No way the witches would have gone down without a fight. I had to believe they'd made it out or—my breath caught in my throat.
Grandma floated faceup in the murky water, her dirty hair tangled across her forehead.
"Oh no." Shock slammed through me.
Grandma's mouth slacked open, and a thick rusty ooze bubbled from her forehead. Oh geez. I touched it gently. Had to know if it was blood or magic or… I would have plopped down from relief if I hadn't been so scared—possum goo. Protective magic. Thank God.
Her skin felt cold and clammy, her neck worse as I felt for a pulse. It was weak, but there.
Grabbing her around the shoulders, I lifted her out of the water with more strength than I knew I had. Ice-cold water sloshed down my body.
I reached up for the handle and flung open the Exit door. Dimitri, the jerk, had had been trying to jimmy the lock with my broken key card. "Emergency! Take her." I unloaded Grandma onto him, swiped half the broken card and slammed the door again, ignoring his cursing from the other side. No way they'd make it out of this hall alive in a fight. Heck, I wasn't so sure even I'd make it out.
A high-pitched whistle sounded, and before I could think about it, a demon dropped out of a chandelier. It screeched, claws outstretched. I nailed it with a switch star, just in time to see two more coming from behind. A sulfuric wind threw me face-first into the water, my eyes stinging with salt water. No way I could recover in time to switch-star them. I dove straight down, forcing my arms to pump as hard as I could, fighting the numbing cold.
I could feel the mass of demons in Vegas, like an army of locusts. I could sense their hunger, their need to suck the living energy out of everything they encountered. Maybe a city like Las Vegas could handle a few, but not this many. It was like they were using Grandma, Ant Eater, the energy of the witches to open a gateway. They were feeding, taking and growing stronger and more menacing with every passing minute. I felt them like a weight in the very pit of my stomach.
The dark mark throbbed against my palm. It recognized them, and it wanted them. Yeah, well so did I.
Chapter Sixteen
My hair tangled around my face and my lungs burned. The dirty water heaved with broken bits of seaweed and remnants of paradise. Bubbles forced their way up through the underwater nightmare, but I knew better than to give in to the desire to break for the surface. It churned above me, surrounded by the pure white walls of the hallway and the slick black shadows of not one, but two demons landing on the surface. Yellow talons attached to black leathery legs broke through the water right on top of me. I couldn't let them corner me. But I couldn't throw switch stars though the water, could I?
I said a quick prayer and zinged one for the demon right above me. The thing shattered into a million flecks of light. Yes!
Lungs ready to explode, I broke through to the surface. I scrambled out of the depths like I was climbing out of a pool, though I could make it out only to my knees. The salt water stung my eyes and dripped down my lip
s. I gave them a quick wipe and crouched, shaking as the air-conditioning of the hallway hit me like an arctic wind. "You found your slayer!" I screamed down the deserted hallway.
Switch star in hand, I sloshed down the corridor. "Come out, come out wherever you are."
I could feel the last one siphoning the energy from the floor. It didn't even need to be in devil form. These things could exist anywhere.
"Come on, girlie. Let's see what you've got."
She rushed me from behind. I turned at the last second, switch star out, ready to throw. She slammed right into it, burning me with countless pinpricks of energy. The impact seized me like an electric charge. I closed my eyes against the glare as the impact punched me backward into the murky water.
The ocean swallowed me whole. My face, arms, chest shocked and useless. Salt water flooded my mouth and I choked. Terror gripped me as my arms refused to move.
Sweet switch stars. I couldn't survive a triple demon attack only to drown in the aftermath. I forced my legs to move. Nothing. My arms. Nothing.
I held my breath, salt water going up my nose. If I choked, I'd breathe in more water. It was the only thing I could control.
Holy mother, I was sinking fast. My left side caught a sharp coral reef and I winced at the impact. Dark blood—my blood—clouded around the wound, reaching with gauzy tendrils until it faded into the suffocating waters. The murkiness consumed the streaming light of the surface until it took too much energy to bother to look up at it.
I closed my eyes. Numb. And I thought of the dark mark.
Maybe I couldn't move my hand, but I could feel the power of the mark on my palm. I called out to it, invited it to flow through me. This mark had been given to me for a reason.
My cheek hit the soft, sandy bottom and my hair streamed around my face. I kept my eyes closed tight and focused on the mark. Flooded with a cool calm, I let the power of the mark wash over me like the water that was killing me. I felt it snake through my fingers, burn through the veins of my arm. It pricked into my chest, into the very core of me. I floated in the mire and let it come.