Six Times a Charm

by Deanna Chase

  She stood her ground in front of doors imprinted with the word Yardsaver. “Leave,” she said automatically, “or I’ll be forced to have you removed.”

  An eerie creek sounded from inside the storage unit. A blast of air shot out between the doors, chilling me to the core.

  “What was that?” I smelled sulfur, evil. Oh my word, I hoped Grandma was okay in there. “You’d better check on her.” I told the tall witch. “Grandma?” I hollered. “Do you need me in there?” Like I could help her, I thought automatically. Wait. It was time to get out of that habit. I could help her. Somehow.

  The tall witch blocked me. “No, Lizzie,” she said, low and serious. “She’s meditating. No one disturbs her when she’s out of body. It’s dangerous.” Her eyes traveled to a spot over my shoulder. “Ant Eater, see that Lizzie makes it back inside. And keep her there.”

  “What? Oh, come on,” I said, as Ant Eater’s grip practically wrung the blood from my right arm. “Ow!” Where had she come from? “Look, I made a mistake. We need to straighten this out,” I said, as Ant Eater practically dragged me back into the bar. “Damn it.” I tried to shake her grip. “Let me go! You don’t understand.” I tugged at the black, spiked bands criss crossing her wrist. “I screwed up. Royally.”

  She dragged me through the back door and bulldozed me against an old fashioned phone booth. Pain laced through my shoulder blades. I could smell the bakki root on her breath. “Don’t you ever push me or endanger anyone in this coven.” She shoved me again, hard. “I don’t care whose grandbaby you are or what you can do. I will fuck you up.”

  “Okay, I get it,” I said, trying to catch my breath. They’d survived by being tough. Her last slam had sure knocked the wind out of me. “But I still need to talk to Grandma.”

  She brought her fist back. Holy schneikies! I braced myself, sure she was going to haul off and hit me.

  My salvation came in the form of a blond bouffanted Frieda waving a roasted leg of…something. “God almighty, E!” Frieda yanked me so hard my arm about stretched out of its socket. “What are you doing?”

  Ant Eater stood there with her fist cocked, breathing heavily. “She almost killed Gertie.”

  “What?” Frieda exclaimed.

  “No!” Never. “I need to talk to Grandma,” I insisted. “This is important. Hugely important. I was trying to explain myself out there when this jerk went all Naomi Campbell on me.”

  Frieda glared at Ant Eater. Then she leveled the same contempt at me.

  What the heck did I do?

  “Come on,” Frieda said as she hustled me out of Ant Eater’s reach. I met at least twenty pairs of eyes as the witches stopped their feast to watch the show. Frieda dragged me through the crowd and back into the kitchen.

  Industrial pots bubbled with stews and sauces. A rust-stained sink labored under a mountain of dirty dishes. Bob loaded up a fresh tray of barbequed squirrel while Pirate snatched up every scrap Bob tossed down to him.

  “I swear I’m gonna kick some ass!” Frieda dragged me toward the stairs.

  “You said it. I can’t believe the way she manhandled me. That woman needs professional help!” I tried to catch Bob’s eye, but he took a sudden interest in his oven mitts.

  Frieda dragged me up the stairs. “Lizzie, I love ya. I really do. But if you pull something like that again, I’ll strangle you myself.”

  Wait, she was on Ant Eater’s side? “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  She pulled me into a room at the end of the hall and slammed the rough, wooden door. Homemade bunk beds lined each wall, with room for little else. Frieda blinked her rhinestone-tipped lashes, fighting for control. “Lizzie. Oh, Lizzie. You could have killed your grandmama tonight.”

  I felt myself pale a few shades.

  “Sit,” She plopped my butt down onto a saggy mattress and, straightening her back, arranged herself next to me. “When Gertie is in a meditative state, any interruption can be dangerous. Fatal.” She paused to take a breath. “To see into the evil that surrounds us, she needs to draw herself closer than any of us would ever dare. Any breach, any break in her concentration, well—it would be like walking through the ‘hood waving a wallet full of fifties. You’re just asking for trouble.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I had no idea.”

  She patted my hand. “I know, sweetie. Ant Eater does too. She’s an over-protective sort.”

  Over-protective like a Mack truck. “How long does Grandma stay in her trances?” I asked.

  “A few hours, a few days—however long it takes.” She knitted her brows. “I worry about her. It’s not like she goes out to the shed often, but when she does, she usually prepares. Gathers her strength. Tonight, she ran in there like Rambo. At her age, it’s just not smart.”

  From what I’d seen, Grandma hadn’t slowed down since I met her.

  Frieda crossed her legs and leaned in closer. “She’s trying to get a leg up on Vald. He’s pure evil. She told me he had a minion on you as soon as you gained your powers.”

  “I met Xerxes in my bathroom.”

  “The black lords don’t usually recognize demon slayers so quickly after the change. She’s worried about you. We all are.”

  “You’re talking about Vald, aren’t you?”

  “He’s a fifth-level demon—the worst. Your Great great great Aunt Evie, the last slayer, locked him up in the second layer of hell. He’s been trying to break out ever since. As far as we can tell, he’s close. I don’t even want to think about what he’d try to do to us.” She shook her head. “He’s been able to destroy the other covens with just his minions. He’s gained their power and is now using it against us. I don’t know how much longer we can hold out.” She gave a small smile. “You’re our ace in the hole.”

  “Then you’re in real trouble,” I said, only half joking.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so, Lizzie. You’ve shown that you’re brave. You have the ability inside you. Now we just need to help you grow your powers.” Frieda squeezed my leg, shooting pain through cuts I forgot I even had.

  “Answer me this,” I said, “what would happen if Vald came back?” It had to be bad or the coven wouldn’t have put me under their immediate protection. And Grandma wouldn’t have rushed out there tonight.

  Frieda worked a bit too long on her answer.

  She could sugar coat it all she wanted. Heck, she could wrap it in cotton candy. I already knew. “He’d come after me, wouldn’t he?”

  She blinked. “You and the rest of the world. But he’s trapped for now. I know it’s hard to imagine at the moment, but you are strong. And you’ll only get stronger. You’re with us now and we’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

  I supposed it would have to be enough.

  “Here.” She fished a hand down her bra and pulled out an airline bottle of Jack Daniels Tennessee whiskey. She handed it to me and I took a swig.

  It burned all the way down to my stomach. Yeah, Lizzie, drink a shot of Jack but not the uber-rare protection potion. I was the worst demon slayer ever.

  Frieda finished the bottle. “Got some more under the bed. You want to hang out a bit?”

  Definitely. I’d have to stop drinking, of course. I could already feel that shot in my dazed head. Out of all the dumb things I’d done today, getting drunk wouldn’t be one of them. I needed to be sharp, especially if Vald decided to show up.

  Frieda dug through the plastic grocery bags under her bed while I took a look at the photos she’d plastered across the wall beside her bed. Most were of Frieda and various witches I’d seen downstairs. And there were two more of the heavy-lidded man whose picture I’d seen in the hallway. Mr. Love in an Elevator. I wondered what had happened to him.

  Frieda handed me a bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream liqueur. Darn. I would have had to waste my shot on the Jack. I rolled it between my hands. I should get to the bed they’d given me, but I didn’t want to be alone. Heck, I didn’t even want to think. It was hard enough to let
go of the fact that I’d faked my way through the protection ceremony tonight. Me, the person who prized honesty above all things. Then again—I yanked the orange tube top down over my stomach—I wasn’t exactly myself tonight.

  An eerie moan drifted up from the yard outside. I reached for Frieda’s bony arm. “What was that?”

  “Come on.” She led me over to the window. Age clouded the glass. I tried to yank it open, but it didn’t budge. Together, we pried it away from the rotting windowsill. Another moan, louder this time, pierced the sounds of crickets chirping in the night. “Your grandma’s having one of her visions.”

  I looked out into the copse of trees beyond the back parking lot. Purple rays of light streamed from every joint and corner of the Yardsaver shed. Heaven help her. “Grandma?” I gulped.

  The red headed witch knelt in front of the swinging doors, her arms spread against them as if she held them closed. Her even chants floated out into the night air.

  Frieda peeked out beside me. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Scarlet has her covered.”

  Yeah, well I didn’t like Scarlet. The snitch. From what I could tell, Grandma needed someone who could think on her feet, not a panicky know-it-all who would rather call the guard instead of having an honest-to-goodness conversation with someone, aka me.

  “Come on back, baby,” Frieda said. “We’ll only distract them.”

  Scarlet looked pretty intense to me. I hoped Grandma could handle herself. Or if she couldn’t, that Scarlet was half as powerful as the griffin who’d come to our rescue at the edge of the lake.

  For the moment, I let Frieda lead me away from the window. We each sat on the bottom of a bunk bed, facing each other. It felt like a twisted version of summer camp. If I heard anything strange—anything—I’d be down there faster than Frieda could blink those crazy lashes of hers.

  And since she’d mentioned rescuing, “Frieda, what do you think of Dimitri? He said he’s my protector, but I don’t know. You’d think I would have felt something, kind of like when I met Grandma. Something about her made me feel like I was supposed to be with her.”

  Frieda handed me an airline bottle of Smirnoff. “Hard to say.” She plopped onto her side, reached into a plastic Valu-Mart bag on the floor and withdrew her own little bottle of Jagermeister. “He’s helped us out from time to time,” she said, unscrewing the bottle. “Done us some favors. But with guys like him, favors always seem to come with a price tag attached.” She took a long sip. “E-yahhh.” Her bracelets jingled as she wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist. “One thing’s sure. He seems to have taken a shine to you.”

  I tipped my Smirnoff bottle back and forth, watching the liquid swirl. No question about it, that man could get my blood flowing. I didn’t know if it was the way he’d looked at me downstairs—like he’d like to devour me whole—or the fact that he probably could. I hadn’t met anyone like him. Heck, I hadn’t run into many interesting guys at all since college. Happy Hands Preschool wasn’t exactly hot date central. It felt good to be pursued. Then again, I wasn’t about to lose my head just because some hunka hunka burning male rescued us from the side of the road. “I don’t trust him. It’s too convenient. He has to want something.”

  Frieda waggled her brows and I felt my face warm.

  “Besides…that,” I added. Oh lordy, I had to stop thinking about that kiss. I had no business indulging in mildly shocking, utterly delectable forays with my mysterious Greek protector. He belonged in their world. Not mine. As soon as I learned to control my powers, I’d be back to my normal life, and that didn’t include men whose eyes flashed yellow and hung out with griffins.

  “I can’t believe I saw a griffin tonight.”

  “Saw one?” Frieda scoffed. “You smooched one.”

  My stomach squinched. “I was afraid of that.”

  “Aw, don’t be so hard on yourself,” she grinned. “I sure wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers.”

  I tried to mirror her humor, but I wasn’t feeling it. Twenty four hours ago, I didn’t even know griffins existed. My brain needed to catch up with my hormones.

  “At least he’s not a werewolf,” Frieda said, spinning her Jagermeister cap on a pink glossed nail.

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” I eased back onto my elbows. Even if I could accept what he was, I still didn’t know if I could trust him. “Tell me, Frieda. And be honest. What would you do?”

  She pursed her lips. “I don’t know, honey. I just don’t know.”

  Frieda fell asleep in the middle of her mini bottle of Jagermeister. Phew. I capped the bottle and turned off the light. The faint odor of black licorice hung in the air as I stood by the window and watched Scarlet, still prostrate, in front of the glowing Yardsaver shed. Nothing had changed down there. I didn’t know if that was good or bad.

  At least Frieda’s roommates hadn’t come up from the Beast Feast. Pirate would certainly be one of the last to leave the party. This room was closest to the storage shed. It was the least I could do, to watch over Grandma after I nearly messed her up tonight. And being with Frieda, even if she had fallen asleep, her lashes twinkling in the moonlight, was better than being by myself.

  I don’t know when I fell asleep. I certainly hadn’t meant to. But somewhere in the early morning, as I sat below the open window, my night caught up with me. And that was a big mistake.

  A heavy scratching grated me awake. My hands found the rough wood wall behind me and the musty carpet underneath. “Grandma?” I asked, right before a heavy hand clamped over my mouth.

  What the—? Oh my God. Vald? Smoke swirled in the air around me. I felt suffocated, cut off.

  Strong hands whipped me around and I saw his face in the moonlight. Dimitri!

  “Quiet,” he commanded, his Greek accent more pronounced than before. Boy, did he look ticked. He wore black from head to toe and looked more like a Navy seal than the GQ businessman I’d met. His eyes flicked over my revealing shirt and leather pants, and I felt myself flush.

  I hadn’t been in my room to meet him. Had he searched the whole bar? Or had he sensed me? “How did you find me?”

  “I said—quiet,” he hissed.

  Frieda was gone.

  Something was very, very wrong. “What happened? Where’s Frieda?”

  His eyes held a steely warning.”I don’t know and I don’t care.” He wrapped an arm around me and guided me to the open window.

  He couldn’t possibly think…

  Oh no. This is not how it was supposed to work. So much for my fantasies of a romantic tryst in the moonlight.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” I fought his grip. Anxiety churned in my stomach. I might not be a part of this coven, but I could feel something was utterly, terribly wrong. And where was Pirate? I had to get downstairs. Anywhere. I had to see what was going on.

  Dimitri picked me up and started down the ladder propped against the outside of the building. I kicked at the empty air. Eep. I hated heights and I hated having to cling to his shirt for dear life. Worst of all, I hated seeing the dark Yardsaver shed, its doors flung open.

  As soon as my oxfords hit the rock-strewn ground, Dimitri pulled me toward the woods beyond the back of the property.

  This was crazy.

  “We need to go back!”

  “I forbid it.”

  “You whaaa—” We flew through the forest like we’d jumped on Grandma’s hog. I didn’t know how he did it. My legs ached and my lungs burned like we were running full speed. But we weren’t running. We practically flew. The moonlight flicked eerie patterns on the back of Dimitri’s back as we raced through the trees.

  Wind whipped through my hair. I wanted to scream. Of all the hacked-up, strange and downright disturbing things that had happened since I met Grandma, this had to be the worst. Not because I was in any imminent danger—and lord knew I probably was. But because those witches back there needed me. I knew it like I knew my last name. And I was doing the wors
t possible thing. I was running.

  Dimitri had pushed me too far.

  Chapter 7

  I had no idea how long we sprinted before we lurched to a stop. The woods screamed with insects, animals and—

  Please let it be just insects and animals. After the zigzag path we’d cut through the countryside, it was impossible to tell where we’d come from or where Dimitri was headed. My heart sank. I didn’t know how I’d ever find my way back to Grandma.

  Dimitri pulled me behind a thick tree. The rough bark scraped against my back. Every one of my nerve endings erupted as his hard body pinned me. I clutched him, trying to gain a foothold in the fallen leaves and soft dirt underneath. Heat burned through his soft black T-shirt. I braced my fingers against his chest. At least he seemed as out of breath as I was. And dang, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man.

  Enough.

  “What do you want?” I asked, letting go of his shirt, wishing I could shove past him. “Because it had better be frickin’ amazing.” And I couldn’t think of anything worth Grandma’s life.

  Dimitri was going to lead me back, whether he liked it or not. I hoped I wouldn’t be too late.

  He planted his hands on each side of my head. “I’m saving you from what could turn out to be a very unpleasant evening.” He bowed his head, breathing heavily. Whatever he thought we’d needed to escape, we’d run full out. He lifted his head, listening to the sounds of the night swiftly turning to morning. “You can start by thanking me.”

  He had to be kidding. “Don’t hold your breath, buster.” Something very bad had happened. My best guess? Grandma’s mind meld with Vald the demon hadn’t gone as planned. Frieda said Grandma had to draw herself closer than anyone else would dare. Grandma had rushed in without preparing and, after our night, she’d been bruised and tired. “Did it ever occur to you that I might have been able to help Grandma back there?”

  He looked at me intently. “You may have a rudimentary understanding of what’s going on, but you’re not a demon slayer yet.”