by Deanna Chase
“No need to thank me. I’m not letting you go that easily.” Her tone was light, but relief mixed with residual fear pressed at my consciousness.
“Help me up,” I swung my legs off the side of the bed. “I need to get out of this bed and into a shower.” I’d been up a couple of times already. Once to use the bathroom and once to take a short walk. After lying down for a week, it wasn’t easy.
Kat helped me shower and to my delight had a bag full of fresh clothes and toiletries waiting for me. “You’re an angel,” I said.
She laughed. “That’s Lailah’s thing. I’m just a good friend.”
“The best,” I agreed.
***
The doctors kept me one more night for observation and by the next morning I was ready to leave. I’d taken to pacing the halls just to get out of bed and move my muscles. When they couldn’t find anything after poking and prodding me, they released me into Kane’s care with strict instructions to take it easy.
I eyed Kane and chuckled.
“Stop that,” he said.
“What?” I asked innocently as I imagined getting him naked.
“Never mind. Behave.”
I muffled another laugh as he pushed my wheelchair down the hall.
Kane drove me home in Pyper’s Mini Cooper.
“You don’t have a car?” I asked.
“Nope,” he said. “I used to have a jeep, but a few months back a buddy of mine totaled it. I haven’t replaced it yet. I walk almost everywhere I go and when I need a car, I just borrow Pyper’s.”
“That makes two of us without wheels.”
“I know.” Kane pulled up in front of the club. I spotted the sign I’d read the first night I’d moved in. Hundreds of Beautiful Women, and Three Ugly ones.
“Kane, what’s with the sign?”
He glanced at it then back to me. “What?”
“The sign, what’s the story behind it?”
He laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“I can’t believe after all of this, you didn’t know.” He moved his hands around indicating us, the club, and all that had happened.
“Come on, who are the three ugly women?”
“You’re gonna love this.” He smiled. “They’re ghosts, of course.”
“Ghosts!” I shouted. “What? Who? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“You never asked. Besides, it’s common knowledge. Most likely everyone thought you knew.” He shrugged.
“Why haven’t I seen them?” I wondered aloud.
“You will,” he replied.
“How do you know?”
“You’ll see.”
He got out of the car and came around to my side to help me out.
“Kane–”
He put a finger to my lips. “Shhh. Right now I have other things on my mind.” He walked me to the side door of the building, pulled me inside and pressed me up against the wall. His eyes darkened to deep pools of melted chocolate and seconds after his lips and body touched mine, all other thoughts and questions vanished.
When he finally pulled away my heart hammered, and my legs had turned to jelly.
“C’mon,” he said, pulling me up my stairwell behind him. When we reached the top, I was panting.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes. Just out of shape after my week-long hiatus.” I smiled and opened my door. “Now, what was it that was on your mind?”
His eyes clouded over and his desire mixed with concern reached me.
“Stop worrying. I’m perfectly fine.” I maneuvered closer to him.
He put his arms around me and turned his head toward the bed. “I’ve been imagining getting you into that thing ever since I brought it up here.”
“That’s odd. I’ve been imagining it ever since I saw the headboard in storage.”
He pulled me closer. “My grandmother would be so pleased to know that bed is now in the possession of the woman I love.”
“It’s your grandmother’s? You said you were going to give it to a restoration place.” I jabbed him in the shoulder.
He shrugged. “I wanted you to have it. I knew you’d take care of it. And I knew you’d never take it otherwise. It’s my curse to love headstrong women. Grandmother would be proud.”
I shook my head and tried not to laugh at the triumphant look on his face.
“Forget my grandmother.” He pulled me down onto the bed, and for the next two hours I focused on all things Kane and the pleasure we gave each other.
When we finally drifted off to sleep, Bobby appeared, highlighted in a warm, pale glow. I watched as he smiled down at me. After a moment he waved, and the light faded into darkness. Still dreaming, Kane appeared and wrapped me in his arms. Bobby was gone, and finally it was just the two of us.
About the Author
Other titles by Deanna Chase
Jade Calhoun Series:
Witches of Bourbon Street
Demons of Bourbon Street
Angles of Bourbon Street
Shadows of Bourbon Street (Coming early 2014)
Crescent City Fae Series:
Influential Magic
Irresistible Magic (Coming Fall 2013)
Destiny Series:
Defining Destiny (Coming Dec 9th 2013)
Deanna is a native Californian, transplanted to the slower paced lifestyle of southeastern Louisiana. When she isn’t writing, she is often goofing off with her husband in New Orleans, playing with her two shih tzu dogs, making glass beads, or out hocking her wares at various bead shows across the country. For more information and updates on newest releases visit her blog at www.deannachase.com.
The Accidental Demon Slayer
Book One of the Biker Witches Novels
Angie Fox
Chapter 1
When I opened the door to greet my grandmother for the very first time, I’m not sure what I was expecting. I know I hadn’t envisioned an apple-shaped woman in a Kiss My Asphalt T-shirt, with windburned cheeks and a sagging tattoo of a phoenix on her arm. But what I really didn’t bargain for was a brief hug, followed by a forceful shove that had me landing firmly on my butt on the cold, black-and-white checked floor of my hall bathroom.
“Let me out of here!” I twisted the bathroom doorknob until I wrenched my wrist. How the frig did this happen? One minute I was answering my door, and the next I had landed booty over tea kettle on tile that was about two weeks overdue for a good scrubbing.
“Buck up, sugar cake.” My grandma’s chunky silver rings clinked against the other side of the door, and her gravelly voice sounded like she’d spent the last century breathing semi-truck exhaust. “This is for your own good.”
My own good? In what world could she know what was good for me? I’d never even heard from my mom’s mom until she called me the day before. The next thing I knew, she was flying to Atlanta to meet me. I had assumed that meant air travel, not the hot pink Harley parked in my driveway.
I kicked the door with all my strength. “Ouchie!” I hollered as pain seared my foot. Dang it all. Three years of teaching at Happy Hands Preschool and I couldn’t even cuss right. I limped in circles, the pointed toe of my simple black heel curled up like an elf shoe.
Why tonight, of all nights, did this have to happen?
Grandma chuckled. “Why, Lizzie Brown—kickin’ and a hollerin’. Thank heaven my grandbaby has spunk. I know you’re hacked to Hades, princess. But trust me. If I let you out now, you’d wreck all your pretty furniture.”
She’d obviously cracked her head on the pavement one too many times. As for ruining my Pottery Barn knockoff furniture, my pathetic excuse for a watchdog would take care of that. Pirate, my Jack Russell Terrier, tended to piddle at the first sign of trouble. I pounded against the door until my hands throbbed. Of all the dumb things to do, I had to let a stranger into my house.
Was I that desperate for affection?
Probably. My adoptive parents, Clif
f and Hillary, meant well. But they weren’t exactly warm and fuzzy. They didn’t even like to touch each other. So, sue me, it felt good—even if it was a little forced—when my biological grandmother hugged me for the first time.
“Levitis cadre. Familio, madre,” she chanted like a deranged monk.
“Cut it out! Today is my thirtieth birthday, and I’m going to be late for my party if you don’t open this door. Now!” Let’s face it. I couldn’t go out much on my salary. Happy Hands Preschool wasn’t exactly raking in the big bucks. And the one night out of the year where I could count on all of my friends to be dateless and available, this geriatric biker had to take me prisoner.
She rapped her knuckles on her side of the door. As if I were going anywhere. “Lizzie dear? You have ridden a bike before?” she asked, as if I’d taken Hog 101 in high school.
Had she seen my cream-on-white front room? “Yeah, um. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m more of an indoor girl.” Not that I was against motorcycles, in theory. But if Grandma thought I was going to hoist my rear end up on the back of her hog, a pot hole had knocked something loose in her head.
“Well, Lizzie, the thing is…” She paused to find the right words to say whatever it was I was sure I didn’t want to hear. She cleared her throat. “Our coven’s on the run.”
Oh lordy. “You think you’re a witch?”
“Am a witch, darlin’. So was your mother. And if I wasn’t such a damned good witch, all hell wouldn’t be after us. I don’t have time to spell it out for you right now, but do you own any leather chaps?”
Yeah, hanging right next to my white capri pants. “No!”
“Well, that bites,” she said. “Life on the road can chafe your thighs.”
I gulped. She’d better not even think of kidnapping me. That was it. “Pirate! Watch dog! Attack!” He didn’t even have the courage to whimper. Useless beast. Last time I was buying him Silky Bones Pet-sicles.
“Hang in there, Lizzie. Less than one minute to go, by my watch. You were born at precisely 6:43 p.m.” She rubbed at the other side of the door like she was comforting a spastic kitten in a crate. “I found you just in time.”
“Oh yeah, that makes sense.” If I could get her to open the door, I could bolt past her and be free faster than I could say whack job. Our reservations were at 7:30. If she let me out now, I could lock her out of my house, out of my life and, of course, make a mad dash to my flipping birthday party. I rubbed my temples. Oh, to be less desperate for a night of fruity drinks and debauchery.
We were supposed to be heading to Fire, one of Atlanta’s newest bistros. I’d slipped into my sapphire party dress and twisted my inky hair into a stylish updo for the occasion. Now I could just feel curls escaping.
“Times like these I wish my watch had a second hand.” Grandma snorted. “And hey—” She rapped on the door, clanking her rings. “Try to stay clear of anything flammable.”
The woman was delusional. And I still couldn’t figure out how she’d locked the door from the outside.
“A few of these little beauties…” she said to the sound of jars being unscrewed. “You don’t know how good it was to see you. I would have been in your life sooner, but we lost track of you. Never would have recognized you in that Audrey Hepburn-looking getup.”
Audrey Hepburn my rear. I bought this dress on clearance last week at Ann Taylor. And what was I doing even listening to fashion advice from a senior citizen in rhinestone-studded skinny jeans? “Why me? Why now?”
“My spell only allowed me to locate you when your power had grown strong enough.”
Spell? I groaned under my breath. This is exactly why I hadn’t searched out my birth parents. Somehow, I knew my biological family would be a bunch of nut jobs.
And was that incense I smelled?
The pungent aroma of ginger and clove seeped under the door. Oh, no, no, no. “You’d better not be lighting things on fire out there!” Decision made. I mustered a few calming yoga breaths and tried to stuff my hair back into its polished updo. The further I got away from this branch of my family tree, the better.
“Listen, lady.” I said as I struggled to bring my temper down a notch. “I mean, Grandma. Listen, Grandma. Let me out of here and you can whip up whatever spell you want.”
After I remove you from my house and my life.
I searched under the sink for a weapon and came up with a toilet brush and a bottle of Purple Prairie Clover sanitizing spray.
Was I really going to shoot my own grandmother?
Yes.
“Open the door and let’s talk.”
She began to hum. It sounded like a church hymn.
“Grandma? Come on, now. Look. It’s not just that people are expecting me. He’s going to be there,” I said, as I used my thumb to pop the top off the sanitizing spray. “Hot Ryan Harmon from the gym,” I explained, as if she was supposed to know who that was. My girlfriends certainly did. “It’s taken me months of flirting on the elliptical machines to screw up the courage to ask this guy out, and you are not going to ruin it for me.” I deserved to date once in a while, didn’t I?
“Lizzie, you stay away from him. That man is a troll.”
“And you know because…” Crazy and opinionated. What a lovely combination.
I needed this shot at Ryan because—newsflash—I didn’t know many single men over the age of four. Hot Ryan Harmon was all I had going.
“Don’t take it personally, lover girl.” She pulled the door open a crack, her long gray hair swooshing as she shook her head. “Trust me.”
I whipped up my sanitizing spray and fired just as she slammed the door.
“Gak!” The air around me erupted with Purple Prairie Clover mist. I breathed in a metallic taste. The room smelled like I’d fallen head first into a vat of wildflowers.
“Ten seconds!”
“Until what?” The flowery spray was going to my head. Bright spots dotted my vision. Stumbling, I smashed my already sore toe into the cabinet under the sink. “Mother Fudrucker!” I braced myself over the sink as my stay-slim rice cake and peanut butter pre-dinner rumbled up the back of my throat.
“Seven seconds!”
Maybe I’d poisoned myself. My tongue thickened and my head felt like it was stuffed with packing peanuts. The room swirled and my legs buckled. A hot flash seared up my spine, through my limbs. I could have sworn I saw my hands melt into the faux marble countertop. Steam bubbled inside me and rose from every pore.
“You are the Exalted Demon Slayer of Dalea. Or at least you will be in four seconds. Three…!”
The place reeked of melted plastic and Purple Prairie Clover. I had to be hallucinating. Standing seemed like too much of an effort. My legs gave way and I slid down the door, my head coming to rest near a forgotten smidge of Extra Brite toothpaste on the floor. The room—no, the air itself—gleamed. The black-and-white tile practically sizzled under my body.
I felt something approach from behind. It gave off a funny clicking sound, like high heels on hardwood. And, phew, it smelled like I’d gone from a bad bonfire straight into the outhouse.
My grandma threw open the door. “Now we—”
The look of terror on Grandma’s face made me think missing the party was the least of my worries. Her eager greeting melted into a scream. I turned and immediately wished I hadn’t. I choked back a shriek while my heart did the samba.
A shrunken, razor-toothed, man, no—thing perched on the top of my toilet bowl. He existed in a swirling gray cloud that clung to his essence like a shroud. A gold ring wound through his flared nostrils until the heavy ball of it rested against rows and rows of spearlike teeth. His hide crinkled, as jagged as desert earth after a drought. It crackled as he tapped a single clawed toe against the white porcelain. Worst of all, his scarlet eyes seemed to have only one target—me.
Chapter 2
He bowed his head and cackled low in his throat, sending a shiver straight down to my toes. Run! My mind screamed in horror. M
y blood pounded in my skull and my hands flopped helplessly. Run! I dug my heels into the tile and managed a pathetic half circle. Oh my God. I was going to die right here on my bathroom floor.
Grandma whipped her hand forward. “Go to hell, Xerxes!” she screamed, sending a wave of energy shrieking over my head. Her turquoise choker glowed around her neck. The air itself vibrated. Xerxes didn’t even blink. Instead, he lifted a skeletal finger and pointed it at me. I wanted to cry. Keep it together.
“Get out of here, Lizzie,” Grandma commanded. “Now!” She clasped both hands around her necklace. She began to chant, her raspy voice repeating a single word, “Digredior. Digredior. Digredior.” Xerxes snorted and the acrid smell of sulfur seared the air.
I stared down at my own fingers, steaming on the tile. Get out of here? Impossible. It was like my body was trapped in a thick sludge. I fought back a wave of panic. This couldn’t be happening. It was the only explanation I could think of, and frankly, it was all I had. I puffed the hair out of my face and focused on the geometric white tiles in front of me. Be logical.
Somewhere, there existed a reasonable explanation for what was happening. I just had to find it. Had I inhaled some of the sanitizing spray? Naturally. Yes. That could explain a lot. Please. This had to be a warped Prairie Clover Mist head trip.
“This is a hideous side effect,” I pleaded with everything I had. Life seeped back into my arms and legs. I sniffed, wiped at the sweat tickling down my face. “Monsters do not, not, not exist.” My whole body shook as I ventured a peek back at my toilet bowl.
Xerxes hissed, spittle clinging to his blackened lips. Vapor swirled through his fingers and gathered into a thick smoke. It loomed toward me, a wave of ash, boiling upon itself. Stale, dead. My heart slammed in my throat. I fought the urge to gag. This was real.
Grandma focused, heart and soul, on the beast. “Digredior. Digredior…”
I had to get out of here. Grandma too. Whatever she was saying to that creature, it wasn’t working. And just because she was crazy enough to face him didn’t mean she deserved to die. My body ached as I inched toward the doorway. I prayed he didn’t notice. But who was I kidding? I could taste the dark mist approaching, feel his red eyes burning into my back. I had to turn. Had to look.
