The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers (24 page)

Whoever said keep your friends close and your enemies closer was out of his
mind.

"Okay then," I said, standing tall. I refused to go down cowering
behind light boxes.

"Wait. Where we going?" Pirate asked, as I scooped him out of the
bag.

If I was really going to do this, controlling my dog would be the least of
my problems. Pirate would need to be able to move.

"We're going to figure out what the heck is wrong with me," I
said, setting him down. "And we're going to learn what in Hades is going
on here," I added as Ricardo Zarro hit a high note.

Pirate eyed me warily. "O, biscuits," he said, his collar tinkling
as he shook off.

"Come on," I said, looking Pirate square in the eye. "Let's
show these creatures what happens when they mess with a terrier."

"That wasn't very smart of them, was it?" Pirate said, his ears
pricking. "And too bad for them, I think I've got some Great Dane in me
too." He snarled.

"I always suspected rottweiler," I said as we crept down the
stairway and under the stage. I braced a hand against the low ceiling as I took
the steep, narrow stairs. The wooden beams of the stage hung low over the
cavelike room. Extra props, junk and costume racks crowded the space.

This place felt wrong. I stood at the bottom of the staircase, unwilling to
go farther, the excess energy from the demons prickling my skin. No way a
couple of powerful succubi had any need for anything down here. There were no
other exits. I wasn't a gambler, but I'd be willing to bet we'd found their
portal.

The small room under the stage reeked of sulfur. Miscellaneous stage gear
crowded the place, stacked to the ceiling in some areas. We made our way past a
cluster of microphone stands and around a pile of half-assembled scaffolding
before I spotted the portal, shimmering among a collection of silk scarves.

No bigger than a soap bubble, the illicit pathway churned dark and menacing
as a black hole.

I rubbed Pirate's head as I gathered my courage.

"Oh, Lizzie. Oh, Pup-peroni." Pirate's claws clickety clacked on
the hardwood floor. "I'd eat it if I didn't think it'd try to eat me
first."

"You're not doing anything, baby dog. You wait for me here."

Pirate sniffed. "You know I'll guard it for you. Shoot. That's what
guard dogs do."

I braced myself. I had to see if this was our link to purgatory or hell or
whatever held back the succubi. You'd think the 1936 handbook could have
mentioned that. I held my breath and the bubble stretched as I stepped through.

Heat gripped me. It was ten times worse than sliding into a hot car on a
hundred-degree day, but that's all I could think of as I slogged through the
ovenlike tunnel.

Steamy air scorching my lungs.

In an instant, I'd stepped out of the portal and straight into a world of
ice. My sweat gelled instantly as frigid winds buffeted me. I stood in the
middle of a maze of ice, the sheer white walls towering in every direction.
Creatures moved behind the opaque barriers, their claws scratching into the
frost.

My heart stuttered. I'd been here before. "Welcome to the first layer
of hell."

The portal spit fire and I leapt out of the way.

"It's around the corner," a voice hissed.

I ducked down the nearest passageway. Oh cripes. Last time, I hadn't even
gotten my feet cold before a demon sensed me. I glanced over my shoulder. The
creatures in the ice had attacked me last time. They looked like white-scaled
lizards and they could bite. Hard. No way I was going through that again.

Dimitri's emerald flashed a brilliant green, and I nearly jumped with shock.
"What the… ?" I held it away from my chest, but it had already
faded to dull again.

Around the corner, a demon received her instructions.

"Assemble your team. Remain here until the portal turns blue. Then
it'll be cold enough to pass."

I fought a shiver. They had entire invasion teams ready.

The portal crackled with energy, like a sadistic bug zapper that was somehow
churning out superlocusts.

They had to sense me on their home turf. Unhitching a switch star, I braced
for the attack of the remaining demon, hoping to heck the ice creature didn't
decide to charge at the same time.

I waited, ready, until my elbow stiffened and my fingers cramped around my
switch star. "What the… ?" I ducked my head around the corner
and found the portal deserted.

How would the demon let me go? Why? I'd never heard of a demon slayer
walking around in hell and nobody noticing.

Unless… I sheathed my switch star and stared at the
6-6-6
glowing on my palm—I somehow belonged here now.

I was done blending. I wrapped my arms around my chest, braced myself and
charged back through the portal. The heat clawed at me. This time, I didn't
care. Standing it, enduring it meant I had something good in me. That meant I
didn't belong in hell, even if the demons seemed to think so.

In less than a minute, I was back into the costume room and into a mess.

I could tell in an instant that the demons had left the building, yet Pirate
crouched in attack mode, stranded on top of an overturned trash can, his tail
quivering. The hellhounds paced back and forth in front of Pirate's makeshift
island, glowering at him.

"And those grizzly bears knew there was no shame in running away,"
Pirate said, his nails scratching at the slick plastic, "on account of my
utter fierceness."

The trash can rocked as I scooped Pirate into my arms. The creatures didn't
stalk me, like they had Pirate. They darted back to the stairs—our only
exit—and crouched, fangs bared, their saliva hissing as it oozed onto the
floor.

"It's bad, Lizzie. Bad, I tell you." Pirate clung to me, shaking,
his nails biting into my skin. "You disappeared and a minute
later—zing—hellhounds. They don't talk, they don't sniff. And if
you ask me, that's just creepy."

My breath hitched. "Something must have brought them back."

As if I hadn't endured enough surprises in the last five minutes, Dimitri
charged down the stairs. He wore faded jeans and a clean black T-shirt, his
hair still slick from a shower. "I don't believe this, Lizzie." He
looked at me like this was somehow my fault.

"I told you to stay away."

"And the emerald told me differently," he said, his eyes catching
the dead stone at my neck.

Lovely. It was too weak to protect me, strong enough to tell on me.

Dimitri towered at the edge of the stairs. "Exactly what have you been
doing?"

"I'm surviving," I said. And I'd continue to do so because it was
the only thing I
could
do at this point.

Still, in spite of his accusation and, well, everything—I was glad to
see him and reassured that no matter what it cost him, it seemed Dimitri would
always be there for me.

The hellhounds glared at us, their eye sockets glowing yellow. I felt my
pulse speed up. Omens or not, these things smelled evil. The one on the left
wheezed out a breath of frigid air as Dimitri drew way too close.

The beasts snapped and Dimitri leapt back.

Pirate tried to clamber up to my shoulders and I pulled him down.
"Easy, guy."

Pirate whipped his head around. "Easy?" He snorted, peppering my
shoulder with doggie snot. "You want me to take it easy? Because frankly,
I don't know what there is to relax about. We got demons after us and we're
trapped down in this room and you have a glowy hand and then you leave me alone
with hell dogs." Pirate managed a weak bark in their direction before he
nuzzled his nose under the crook of my arm. "I thought they were going to
eat me whole and use my toenails for toothpicks."

Poor Pirate. He didn't deserve any of this. I rubbed him on the head and
stuffed him under my other arm to free up my switch star hand. The acrid scent
of demons hung heavy in the air.

We had to get past these
things
.

The hellhound on the left snarled, baring row after row of sharp yellow
teeth. Dimitri thought he was being subtle, but I saw the calculated way he'd
moved to their flank.

Fine. We'd deal with them together. "What do they want?" According
to Ezra, these things were omens, not attack beasts.

Dimitri double-checked his weapons like a lieutenant preparing to lead his
troops into battle. It had to have cost him a lot of energy to be so close to
the portal, but he didn't let on. His wide chest heaved, on full alert as he
positioned himself in front of the beasts. "It looks like we're altering
someone's fate."

Praised be. "We can do that?"

He shot me a look that made me want to rewrite the entire book on demon
slaying. "What do you think we've been doing for the past week?" He
returned his full attention to the creatures. "This could mean we're
getting close," he said, thinking out loud. "I'm not sure they like
it."

Dimitri reached into the back of his jeans and drew out a bronze dagger.
Confident and strong as he gripped the blade, he reminded me of an ancient
Greek warrior. Oh Sheboygan. Now was not the time to get turned on. Shoulders
back, his focus never wavering, he strode directly for the hellhounds.

The creatures roared and hissed, their spittle dripping from rows and rows
of yellow teeth. They were going to be on him like Sunday dinner. I flipped the
trash can upright and stuffed Pirate inside, despite his protests. I couldn't
fight with a dog in my hands. Then, switch stars at the ready, I followed
Dimitri's lead.

He was almost on them, graceful as an athlete and intense as a gladiator,
watching them as if he were trying to anticipate which mouth full of teeth
would attack first. Keeping my breathing even and my concentration tight, I had
his back. Then one of the hellhound heads drooped its ears and dipped toward
the floor. Then another, and another, and, "What the heck?" The
beasts curled and whimpered at Dimitri's feet.

Son of a gun, Dimitri's eyes glowed orange. He'd better know what he was
doing. Dimitri's full attention remained on the creatures he'd somehow
conquered. His nostrils flared. "Go," he ordered. "Now."

I retrieved Pirate and hurried for the stairs, hoping like anything Dimitri
would be along shortly.

We sent Ezra ahead to make sure our escape route was clear, then hustled
back down the purple hallway that led to the back exit of the club.

Pirate craned his neck backward as we put some distance between us and the
hellhounds. "I changed my mind. I don't think you're evil," he said,
as if he'd finally decided for himself. "But I'm not so sure about
Dimitri."

"Thanks," I said, refusing to look back again.

Pirate squirmed out of my arms and took up the point position, his toenails
clacking on the cement floors as he zipped back and forth in front of us, nose
to the floor.

Halfway down, Dimitri joined us. He looked like he'd been wrestling the
things. At least his eyes were yellow again. Oh geez.

"There's no way to get rid of the hell dogs, is there?"

Dimitri guided me in front of him. "No," he said, his breathing
rough.

Because we didn't have enough problems.

"What happened in there?" I asked Ezra as he zipped overhead.
"Did you see my uncle?" The other ghost said he'd be there tonight.
"He's short, round—"

"Smells like a Cinnabon store," Pirate said.

"I'm sorry." Ezra's eyes traveled from Dimitri's bronze dagger to
the powerful shoulders showing through his torn black shirt. "He left with
a dark-haired woman while you were downstairs. You shouldn't have tempted the
hellhounds."

"Thanks for the tip."

"Phil is the common denominator in all of this," Dimitri said,
shoving open the back door. "I'm sorry, Lizzie, but we're going to have to
do some things differently."

Shocked, I stared up at him.

Was he really going to sacrifice my fairy godfather?

I scooped up my doggie and held him close. "You know what Serena said.
She's going to kill Phil. But if we go after him, she'll also take his
soul." I couldn't risk that. I couldn't make that decision about someone
else's eternal damnation.

Dimitri reached for me. His eyes hung with what? Regret?

I ducked away and tore down the back steps of the club.

"We have to stop this. I wish there was another way, Lizzie, but
sometimes the good of the many outweighs the good of the few. No matter how
much we care about a person."

My boot crunched over a broken beer bottle. Easy for Dimitri to say. It
wasn't his fairy godfather in immortal danger. I gripped Pirate so tight he
yelped. "Sorry, bub," I murmured into the wiry fur of his neck. I
didn't know. I just didn't know.

Ezra cleared his throat. "I don't mean to point out the obvious, but we
have no information where they've taken your uncle. I'm sure the succubi are
well hidden. Or do you have some ideas?"

I cringed. "Not where to look, but…" I didn't even want to
think it.

Dimitri, blast him, finished what I'd been too reluctant to say. "We
need to channel him."

A rock settled in my stomach. We weren't so good at channeling. When we'd
done it in the bathroom at the Paradise, we lost Phil. The time before that,
Grandma ended up in the first layer of hell. Besides, if we wanted to have any
shot at living through the debacle without ending up in purgatory, hell, or
floating around in a parallel dimension somewhere, we needed the very people
I'd been trying to distance from all of this.

We needed the Red Skulls.

Heaven help us.

"We sent the Red Skulls away." I cringed, tempted to borrow a
dollop of strength from the mark.

Dimitri laughed out loud and I felt the knot in my stomach unravel a bit.
"Do you really think they went?"

"Of course not," I replied.