The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers (28 page)

She glanced up at me through rhinestone-tipped lashes as she started in on
my side buckles. "Don't squinch your forehead like that. You'll get
wrinkles. Besides," she said, silver hoop earrings glinting in the moonlight,
"we've got your back."

"That's good to hear," I told her, easing Dimitri's black shirt
over the tight bustier. I'd need all the help I could get.

She slapped the skintight leather on my hips, admiring her handiwork.
"Honey, this ain't my first rodeo. Now watch the armadillos—the
petting zoo ones tend to get fat and lazy. And the fish are from
Wal-Mart."

Fish? "Armadillos?" I hoped Grandma wasn't expecting me to do any
magic in there.

Grandma shoved her head around the edge of the barn. "You happy?"
She dug at her spell necklace like it was strangling her. "One of the fish
just died."

Was that bad? "What happened?"

Frieda's eyes widened as she grabbed for her anti-demon quilt bits.
"Hurry."

I followed Grandma to the other side of the barn and found a small
armadillo-carrying army. "I know you want to do this," Dimitri said
taking my hand. "But be quick about it. This doesn't feel right."

We jogged past the cabins, through the petting zoo, toward a supply shed at
the edge of the Wild West town.

"Hup, hup," Grandma tugged on my black T-shirt. "Wrong
direction, slick. That's the Cave of Visions." She pointed at a life-sized
covered wagon over by the old-fashioned jail. The Conestoga's wheels sizzled
with an unearthly blue current. A blaze of blue smoke trailed up into the night
sky and—holy cripes—pearl white snakes as long as my arm slithered
in Z-shaped patterns around and under the wagon. Large, flat heads thrust from
both ends of the creatures as they hissed, spewing bursts of flame at each
other and anyone else who wandered too close.

Dimitri didn't look happy. "What kind of magic do you think you're
doing in there?"

"What?" Grandma snapped as the witches filed past us. "Do you
want to run this thing? I'm trying to give Lizzie the best shot at getting out
of this in one piece."

"By calling up Cold magic?" he thundered. "No wonder you
killed the fish."

I felt a tugging at my mark. Something wanted me in there.

"Cripes. You know a better way to isolate a demonic presence?"

"Yes," Dimitri snarled. "Smother the Ice Winders. I can cast
a protective charm."

"Wait," I said. If hissing, coiling fire breathers were on my
side, I'd take them.

But naturally, no one was listening. Grandma and Dimitri had eyes—and
arguments—only for each other.

"Oh sure." Grandma threw her hands out like an Italian
grandmother. "You're not giving my grand-baby half-depleted magic.
Besides, it's perfectly safe as long as the demons can't see her."

Dimitri shot her a dark look as he crunched past me, inspecting the
perimeter of the Cave of Visions. The witches cast long shadows in a circle
around us. They moved with military precision, dozens of Red Skulls carrying
blue and silver candles.

Grandma nodded to each of the Red Skulls as they lined up. "A little
extra juice, in case you need it."

I'd take all the help I could get.

Dimitri returned, wrapping his arms around me as he tugged me into a long
shadow cast by the roof of the wagon. There were dark circles under his eyes.
"Keep your grandma busy. I'm going to cast some protection for you,"
he said, his breath warm against my ear. I fought the urge to sink into him and
nodded instead.

"You'll be okay?" I didn't know where he found the strength.

His mouth quirked. "Told you I can handle myself."

Mmm, I ran my fingers lightly along his bare back. What I'd give for another
five minutes in that valley.

"Hello?" Grandma stood next to us.

The air chilled my skin as I stepped away from Dimitri. I really wished he
could have gone in there with me. But I could do this. I was the only one.

Grandma clapped me on the back. "Okay, here's the skinny. I can't go in
there and show you how it works because, hey, the demons would see me. But it's
actually very simple."

"It can't be," I said, as she shoved a jar of guppies into my
hand. Last time Grandma tried this, she ended up in the first layer of hell.

"Fine, you're right. It's dangerous as a barrel of snakes. You happy?
The point is, you follow my instructions and you're golden. So first, watch the
fish. We have three fish for you to take inside."

"Two!" Bob hollered.

"Oh yeah," Grandma muttered as I watched the guppies swim circles
around the dead fish in my jar. "We spelled the fish to be kind of like
those canaries they used to take down into mines. An evil spirit tries to take
you, they get the fish instead."

I gripped the jar tighter. "What was just after us?"

"I don't know. But that's what got your fish. Now you have two left.
The last one dies, you run like hell."

"Got it." I could do this.

"We're sealing you in with a circle. A strong one," she said as
the witches moved to surrounded us. I caught Battina in the crowd, Jan, Sidecar
Bob. "Also, there's a goat skull in there that your Great-aunt Evie used
to use in her ceremonies. It'll help you focus your strength."

"And the armadillos?" I asked, watching Bob scatter Twinkee bits
for the nobbly little things.

"Yes! Armadillo tracks. Their back paw tracks have six distinct points,
almost like a pentagram. Very powerful magic. You worry about what goes on in
that wagon. Light a candle. Focus on Phil and watch the fish."

"Okay." I nodded. I could do this.

"Something goes wrong, run. Try not to bring anything out of there with
you." She hooked a thumb under her necklace. "I've got a mess of
antidemonic spells, but without any wards in place, they're basically like
tossing Pop-Tarts at a pissed-off lion."

"Don't worry, I can do this," I said. I had to do it.

Dimitri took my hand, more at ease than he had been. His eyes burned green
in the moonlight. "Ready?" Seemed he'd worked his magic.

No. There were too many things to say and I didn't have any idea how to go
about it.

He squeezed my hand and planted a kiss on the top of my head. "I'll see
you in a few minutes."

Right. I planted one foot on the back hinge of the wagon and hoisted myself
up. My palm radiated power.

Grandma handed me a lighter, a stubby red candle and the guppy jar.

Frieda scooched up next to me, her platform sandals crunching across the
rocky soil. She whipped off her protection bracelet. "Deep breaths,
sugar" she said, her lucky dice earrings jangling as she rubbed circles on
my back. "Those fish die and you get the hell out of there."

"Hands off," Ant Eater growled from behind.

"Ease up." Frieda rubbed faster. "Her circle's open."

"What's that you said?" Ant Eater bent and lit the last candle.
The air grew heavy around me as the last wick sputtered to life. And suddenly,
I felt very alone.

A dribble of sweat ran down my back. I lit my candle and glanced back one
more time at Dimitri, standing bare-chested outside the circle of witches. He
looked exhausted but happy. Poor guy had given me the shirt off his back. When
he caught my eye and winked, I couldn't help but smile.

You can do this, Lizzie.

I'd do it for him and for all of them. With that, I ducked inside the Cave
of Visions.

My sweat gelled the second I stepped inside. The interior of the wagon was
freezing cold, pitch black and smelled like canvas and dirt. I placed the
candle in the center of the narrow space, with the fish right next to it.
Breathe. I assembled myself into a Sukasana yoga pose on the floor in front of
the gnarly-looking goat skull because, well, it seemed like the thing to do.

Sacrifice yourself
. I had to believe I was doing the right thing,
or I would have been tempted to sprint out of that wagon and never come back.
The hexed fish swam circles in their jar, the dead one bobbing against the
side. My ankles warmed where they crossed. The rest of me shivered.

You can do this, I reminded myself.

I had to do this.

I could feel Dimitri outside. He'd woven a protective spell, like a soft
wind. He'd infused it with strength, purity and wisdom. Anyone else might have
also tried to mess with my free will. Dimitri, curse him, was too noble for
that.

The Red Skulls chanted outside, the words washing over me as I watched the
yellow flame of the candle. It danced on the blackened wick and, with a start,
I realized we'd used this same candle to summon Serena at the Paradise.
Scratches marred the surface from the day we'd lost Phil.

I focused on my fairy godfather, thought about the way he'd taken care of me
when I didn't have anybody. And how it was my turn to take care of him now.

In my mind's eye, I saw him. The mark on my hand tingled. My breath
roughened, each exhale a cloud in the rapidly freezing air. My fingers
clenched.

I was Phil.

Scared. In love. And insanely jealous.

Serena doesn't want me anymore. She only married me in order to control
me. And as soon as I deliver the blackout, she'll take what she wanted and get rid
of me.

Shock threw me out of my vision. I found myself standing in the narrow
space. My heart slammed in my throat. Serena wanted to take something? I
thought she wanted to open up the portal. I couldn't afford to be wrong about
this.

Focus
. I steadied myself in front of the flame, forced myself to
sit back down, resume my yoga pose. Two of the fish floated, dead.

Holy Hades.

I closed my eyes, pulled closer. I willed my mind to calm, my breathing to
grow even. I wound my mind through the space like swimming through cold, dark
water. The mark on my hand burned, and I used it to draw power.

Max stood in the rotting prison under the desert. The iron doors shook and
bent. They were getting stronger. His seventeen demons were breaking out.

I caught my breath as a blackened demon writhed out from between the cracks
in the door. I lurched for the hunter. Max stabbed the screaming, heaving
succubus with a switch star and shoved her into a pile of writhing demons.
Black blood caked his golden hair in a halo of death and red blood ran from
deep cuts in his face.

"Get out, Max!" No way he could handle the demons behind those
doors, or the bloodied ones behind him, once they regained their strength.

"Doesn't work that way," he said, squinting, his breath coming
hard. "Think, Lizzie. Your Cave of Visions is set up for revelations, not
painful truths. So you'd better figure this out soon.

"They know the end is near."

"Thanks for the pep talk," he muttered, dragging a stunned,
hissing demon into an iron holding cell.

"I found the portal," I said in a rush. "They're using
Ricardo Zarro and sex to drive it open enough to get six hundred and sixty-six
through. We can't stop the concert. It'll be swarming with succubi. I'll bet
they've got the dam guarded too."

Max shot me a look. "Figure it out. You know you're the only one who
can stop this now." The iron doors around him shook and groaned.

The truth cut me like a thousand switch stars.

Max's eyes blazed. "It'll be the highway to hell. You don't want to
know what's in the deeper layers. I don't, either. It'll make what I'm dealing
with here look like Cirque du Soleil. It'll be a massacre."

And, I realized with a start, the dark mark wanted it.

"Lizzie," Max said, his image fading from my mind, "your last
fish is dead."

My mind hurtled back to the Cave of Visions, where I sat crosslegged with a
smashed pickle jar in my hand. The fish lay lifeless on the wooden floor of the
wagon. I'd dropped the jar.

And nothing happened.

Joy and relief welled up inside me. I didn't need Grandma or the witches'
spells. I was the only one who could stop the demons tomorrow night. I alone
could save Phil, free Dimitri, destroy the portal, end this thing for good.

Sacrifice yourself.

Power shot through me, my body aching with the pleasure of it. The demons
could try to darken the U.S., summon sexual power from the masses, eat my
lover. But I could take out their entire operation. I could crush Serena.

No mistake, I could feel her, out there, waiting. A smile curled on my lips.
I never had to worry about finding my power again. I had it all if I wanted it.

Strength coursed through me, surged from the dark mark into every cell of my
body. I needed it like I needed my next breath. This was my secret weapon to
defeat the demons. I reached out with my mind, saw Serena as she really
was—a blackened shell of a creature, a living locust. I nudged her with
my power, and she turned, bewildered. She couldn't even see me coming. I shoved
her again, laughing at the irony of it. She could be mine. I could take her. And
then, I realized, I'd have to give something back to the dark mark. This could
consume me.

Oh Sheboygan.

This wasn't me.

I swallowed a lump in my throat.

This felt too good, too easy. Holy smokes, I wasn't even cold anymore. I
didn't know what I'd invited in, but I did know that absolute power corrupts.
There would be a price and no matter how good it felt, I couldn't keep the
strength if it harmed, well, me. Who I am.

I pulled back from her, watched as she wrapped her arms around herself and
searched for me. She stood in a narrow art deco hallway right below the control
room of the Hoover Dam, where Phil worked to cripple the turbines. I had the
information I needed now. So why couldn't I let go?

My fingernails bit into my palms as I resisted the urge to shove her once
more.

This mark was wrong. I didn't need it. I didn't
want
it. I was
strong enough on my own.

Sacrifice yourself.