Six Times a Charm

by Deanna Chase

  I didn’t like how he said the word friend. Andrea didn’t either. Her face twisted into the kind of snarl perceptible only to women. And I swear her fingernails grew a half an inch.

  Don’t worry, honey. I don’t want him anyway.

  She sniffed at my borrowed clothes in disdain. “Nice pants.”

  Now I really wanted to hone my demon slayer powers so I could fire some switch stars, or maybe a bolt of lightning, up her butt. As it stood, I simply nodded to the bitch (the word bitch being a technical term for her condition, of course).

  The hostess area stood apart from the main restaurant by a wall of paneling that might have looked classy if it hadn’t been cheap, faded and strewn with used ticky tack. An ancient M&M candy machine didn’t quite camouflage the splintered hole behind it. The rest of the area was bare except for two bodyguards, who stood directly behind Andrea. They stared at me, heavy-lidded and suspicious. As if they had anything to fear from the non-demon-slaying demon slayer. They could rip my arms off without breaking a sweat.

  Behind the wall, I could hear the murmur of conversation and the clinking of silverware. Sausage, potatoes, and eggs should have smelled heavenly, but after the night I’d had, the mere thought of food made my stomach sour.

  “Don’t tell me you’re going out with this pop tart,” Andrea sniggered, proving beyond a doubt she was no lady herself. “She wouldn’t know what to do with a man like you.”

  Oh pul-leeze.

  “Watch yourself, Andrea,” Dimitri warned.

  “Are we done playing Melrose Place?” I asked. “Where is everyone?”

  Andrea scowled at me. She hitched her head back and called to whoever was behind the paneling. “We got two more!”

  A cascade of voices and a smattering of applause greeted her announcement. Frankly, I didn’t know what we had to cheer about. The coven’s hideout was destroyed, some of the witches were missing and a fifth level demon could be popping by at any moment.

  Pirate skittered around the corner and suddenly, nothing else mattered. Thank you. Thank God he got out of there. That moment was worth every second out there in those dark woods. I rushed to my doggie, scooped him up and hugged him tight. “How are you doing?” I asked, stroking him, inspecting his back, his paws, his tail, everything. His paws were black with mud and—phew—he could use a bath, but otherwise he seemed to be alright. “You okay?”

  He licked my arms, my elbows, everywhere he could reach. “Whoa, Lizzie. Don’t you ever scare me like that again. I mean I was scared. I was more scared than when you went to Florida and left me at that doggie day spa with the shaking pet pillows.”

  I buried my nose in his hair, so glad to see my little dog. Someone had even made sure he had fresh bandages for his back.

  “Aye-eee!” I heard Frieda approaching before I ever saw her. I could smell her too—cigarettes with a tinge of cinnamon gum.

  She hugged me from behind. “You disappear again and I’m going to kick your butt into next Sunday. We didn’t know what happened to you,” she said, squeezing me tight. She turned me around, chewing as she talked, “how are you feeling? Are you alright?”

  I nodded. Talk about a loaded question. I couldn’t go home, the coven was destroyed. I had no idea what to do with my utterly cool yet completely frightening demon slayer mojo and now I’d given Dimitri enough power over me to make me very, very uncomfortable. “Where’s Grandma?” I asked. I couldn’t wait to see her. She’d tell me what to do.

  Frieda locked her elbow in mine. “Well, I’ll say one thing. It was a hell of a fight. Come on back to the dining room and we’ll tell you all about it.”

  We followed Frieda around the divider and into the main restaurant. Immediately, I could see there were two different groups of people occupying the space. The werewolves dominated the center of the dining room and had set up the Rootin’ Tootin’ Breakfast Buffet. At least that’s what the sign declared in big block letters. That morning, they’d opted to stick with the basics—sausage links, breakfast potatoes and scrambled eggs. A pimply teenager nodded at me as we passed. His gangly arms led down to massive, hairy wolf claws. Built-in pot holders, it seemed as he clutched a steaming platter of undercooked bacon.

  Pirate wriggled in my arms. “Oh lookie there. Bacon! I couldn’t eat any before. I didn’t have any appetite before, but now I think I’m over it.”

  I stroked the wiry fur on his head. “Later, Pirate. Right now, we have to find Grandma.”

  “Oh now, Lizzie,” he began reluctantly. “She never liked me much and besides I don’t think you need to be hearing about the deal them witches made with those werewolves. You won’t be in the mood for no bacon after that.”

  Deal? What deal?

  “Pirate,” Frieda warned.

  “All I’m saying is if Lizzie’s the one who’s got to schlep everywhere, getting rid of those black souls for a bunch of smelly werewolves, then she should at least get some breakfast first.”

  Black souls? Pirate was right. My stomach had begun churning enough at that point to make breakfast impossible. I glanced back at Dimitri, hoping this deal wasn’t another one of his tricks. From the murder in his eyes, I guessed not.

  “Frieda, care to enlighten me?” I was suddenly feeling quite murderous myself.

  Frieda cast a worried glance over her shoulder. “Come on back, honey. I think Ant Eater would like to have a word with you.”

  “Oh, well if Ant Eater is behind it, I’m sure I’ll love it.” The last time I’d seen Ant Eater, she’d been holding me by the throat. It made sense she’d want to throw me to the werewolves. Grandma would straighten this out. She had to. It worried me that I hadn’t seen her yet. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Lizzie.

  As we weaved through the tables, I could feel the eyes of the werewolves on us. One in particular struck me hard. He stood with his back to the wall and a rifle on his shoulder. I did a double take. He was built lean and menacing, like a bad boy drummer in a rock band. Tattoos wound up his arms and neck, past the blond hair that hung in over-stylized hunks almost all the way down to his shoulders. The only thing that gave away his species was the way he sniffed the air. That and he seemed more than comfortable in the middle of a Shoney’s full of werewolves.

  Dimitri, walking behind me, touched me on the arm, his fingertips almost brushing the edge of the armor that curved around my side. “That’s Rex,” he said, giving me a light squeeze. “Stay away from him.”

  I could feel Rex’s eyes on us. He reminded me of a predator, watching, waiting to discover a weakness. I glanced back and picked up the pace when I saw his fierce smirk. He looked like he’d won the lottery.

  The werewolves were the only ones eating. The witches stuck to the booths along the right wall, injured and shell shocked. Sidecar Bob had set up a haphazard triage station on a few tables he’d pushed together at the end of the row of booths, out of sight yet close enough. It didn’t look like anyone was in the mood to venture far.

  Frieda led me to the last booth, the one closest to the restrooms. Dimitri walked behind me, as if I wanted him around after what he’d pulled. Maybe Ant Eater would do me a favor and pound him into next Tuesday.

  “What happened back there, Frieda? It was Vald, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She wrapped a comforting arm around my shoulder. “We need to talk.”

  Talk and act. “Do you think he’ll try to follow us here?” I asked. “And where is here?”

  Frieda shook her head as we passed two booths of witches. I saw the tall, red haired one, Scarlet. But no Grandma. “Come on now, hon.”

  “Actually, Vald could have followed us quite easily,” Dimitri said, making sure any of the witches we passed could hear him. Nice, considering these people were probably scared out of their wits as it was.

  Dimitri didn’t seem to care. “Nowhere is safe,” he said, anger and accusation seeping into his voice. “We need to get you throwing switch stars.”

  “I’m ready,” I said, sliding into the
booth across from Ant Eater.

  She wore the expression of a soldier who had just returned from battle. Her eyes were hollow, her features taut. She pounded a skinny red coffee stirrer against the restaurant table with the rat, tat, tat of a machine gun. Green soot dusted her curly gray hair.

  I waited for her to speak, wary at the same. I knew it would be bad news.

  And I was right.

  “Your grandma has been taken,” she said with about as much emotion as if she were telling me my car was wrecked or my condo needed a new air conditioning system. It seemed Ant Eater was nothing if not practical.

  I knew Grandma wouldn’t have left the coven until every last witch made it out, but it hurt to hear she hadn’t escaped. “What do you mean taken? By who? And why aren’t you trying to get her back?” Grandma had been a member of the Red Skulls for decades. These people were her family. What were they doing sitting around Shoney’s?

  Ant Eater slammed her hand on the table and the coffee stirrer went flying. “Don’t you even start on me, hot shot. You’re the reason we lost her.”

  I willed myself to stay calm. “Pirate, why don’t you go see if Sidecar Bob needs any help?”

  “Oh, but Lizzie, I missed you.” His large, black eyes pleaded with me. “And now I have you and you’re right here and I don’t want to leave you.”

  “Pirate.” I hated to be stern with him, and I wanted nothing more than to hold my doggie tight, but I had a feeling this was about to get ugly. Reluctantly, Pirate obeyed.

  I squared my shoulders and faced Ant Eater. From her accusation, you would have thought I’d trussed up my grandmother myself. No getting around it, though. I was supposed to be there. I had these powers for a reason and I wasn’t about to shirk my responsibility. They’d offered me their protection because they knew this was coming. I’d let them down. If I’d found a way to stay, I might have been able to prevent this. “Let’s figure this out,” I told her.

  “Meaning?” she snapped.

  “Tell me what happened,” I said, refusing to take the bait.

  The lines on Ant Eater’s face deepened as she frowned. “Vald approached like a stale wind from the north. We’re Southern witches. It’s harder for us to detect a northern presence. But your Grandma Gertie, she knew. By the time she found us, every one of us was face down on the floor.” She planted her elbows on the booth table between us. “See, demons like Vald aren’t all fire and brimstone. They’re sneaky. Sure they enjoy the stark terror on your face before they steal your soul, but they’d just as soon swipe it from you when you’re not looking.”

  Incredible. “Is that what he wanted? Your souls?”

  She rubbed her hands together, as if to warm them. “He wants our power. Your Great, Great, Great Aunt Evie was a slayer, one of the best. She locked Vald away more than a hundred years ago. He’s been trying to break out, but he needs power.”

  “Your power?” I asked, afraid.

  “Any power he can get. He’s wiped out the other three major covens. About thirty years ago, he started in after us.”

  Grandma had told me about how the Red Skulls had been on the run.

  Ant Eater glanced at Frieda. “Lucky for us, he went for power before he went for our souls. It allowed some of us to escape and those that weren’t so lucky,” she cringed, “at least they’re free.”

  Ouch. If I didn’t have enough respect for these witches before, I did now. They may be unconventional, but they were fighting a battle that nobody should have to face.

  She shook her head. “Now I’m afraid he’s after more than our power.”

  I waited, not sure I wanted to hear the rest.

  Her eyes bore into me. “He wanted you.”

  “Me?” My chest felt hollow.

  “We can not let that demon steal your power.” She banged her hand on the table and sent the salt and pepper shakers flying. “We’re all dead if he does. Vald is stronger than we thought. Our protection spell—that potion you drank—should have bound us all together. We would have known he was coming for you. You would have felt it too. We should have been able to beat him off, or at least stall him enough to escape. I don’t know what happened,” she said, eyeing me accusingly.

  I refused to blink. “We’ll fix it.” I’d figure this out. I’d get Grandma back. I’d discover how to blast this demon once and for all.

  And then I’d get back to teaching preschool.

  Ant Eater yanked a sawed off shotgun from the seat behind her and leveled it at me. I lost my breath as I gaped down the enormous barrels of the gun. She pushed it forward and it nudged my left breast, hard and deadly. A chill seeped from the cold metal and crept right through me.

  “You fucked up,” she said, low and deadly.

  Off to my left, I heard Dimitri cock a gun. I stole a glance. He aimed a pistol at Ant Eater’s head. The restaurant had gone silent as a graveyard. She’d shoot me. I knew she would.

  It pissed me off. “Yes,” I said, hating the illogic of it. Hating her. “Shoot the demon slayer. That’ll solve everything.”

  Frieda slipped into the booth next to me, shaking. “Put the gun down,” she ordered, her voice steadier than her body. “You know Lizzie is the one person who can save Gertie. Us, too.”

  Tears welled in Ant Eater’s eyes. She gritted her teeth, her gold cap gleaming with spittle.

  In one fluid motion, she launched herself out of the booth and stormed for the bathrooms. The ladies’ door slammed behind her and every one of us breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Oh, Frieda,” I said, wanting to hug her. Every bone in my body had turned to mush. “Thank you.” I really hadn’t wanted to test that armor.

  She slid into the seat across from mine, more serious than I’d ever seen her. “Save it. We got work to do. I didn’t want to say it before,” she craned her neck, “in front of the werewolves, but I wasn’t kidding when I said you were the only one who can help your grandma. I hoped Ant Eater would be able to put it a little better, but the truth is Vald has Gertie. He’s taken her back with him—to hell.”

  Frieda raised an eyebrow as my jaw fell open. “Oh yes, buttercup. Hell is real. And there is no escaping without a slayer. You.”

  I blanched. Learning how to throw a switch star was one thing. I was still getting used to the idea of taking out the demon. No way was I ready for this. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready.

  Frieda didn’t seem to care. “Now Vald hasn’t been able to get Gertie all the way into the second layer of hell. She’s weak, but she’s fighting like a double blast of dynamite. She’s clinging to the first layer,” she said, battling tears, “No question about it, your grandma is a fighter. But she can’t hold out forever. No one can.”

  I fought back the emotion. I had to be logical. I had to understand this. “What does that demon want if he doesn’t want her soul?”

  “He wants you to go after her. And you can! You can defeat him, Lizzie. You have the power.”

  I did. “I just need to learn how to use it.”

  “It’s intuitive,” Dimitri said next to me, which didn’t make me feel better. Frankly, I’d forgotten he was there. “Look to the Outside,” he said, “Accept the Universe, Sacrifice Yourself.”

  “Yes, but what does that mean?” I asked.

  “It means something different to every slayer,” he said, sliding into the booth next to me. “You’re not Harry Potter going to Hogwarts,” he said, as if the whole idea were absurd. “You’re a fully empowered demon slayer. You just need to open yourself up and use your gifts.”

  I planted my elbows on the table and stared at my hands. I could feel the power churning inside me. But it was like having all of the ingredients and no recipe. “You make it sound so simple.”

  “It can be,” he said, touching my arm, his expression intense. “I’ll show you.”

  Frieda burst into tears.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said. When she didn’t let up, I grew suspicious. “What are you not t
elling me?”

  She sniffled, her eyes darting from me to Dimitri. “We need you trained yesterday. You’re the only one who can enter the second layer of hell and defeat Vald.”

  “Okay,” I said, “We’ll start right away.”

  “As long as we do it my way,” he added.

  Naturally.

  He crossed arms crossed over his chest. “Now what is this I hear about Lizzie working for the werewolves?”

  “Good question,” I said, wishing I’d thought of it first.

  Frieda frowned, clearly uncomfortable in her role as the coven spokesperson. “We worked out a deal with the werewolves in exchange for their help this morning. They need her to banish a dozen or so black souls.”

  I glanced at Dimitri. He didn’t look particularly happy.

  “It will give you practice Looking to the Outside,” he reluctantly admitted.

  Oh well, lovely.

  “I hope you have my back,” I said to him. If I had to train to be a demon slayer and work a mercenary job for a group of werewolves, then my protector had better live up to his name.

  He covered my hand with his. “You can count on me, Lizzie.”

  “Good.” I squeezed his hand, not really wanting the support, but needing it all the same. There is a time for pride and a time to survive. And right now, I really didn’t want to ask the question burning the back of my brain. Maybe if I asked it out loud, it wouldn’t be as scary.

  “What if I screw up?”

  Frieda eyed me, as serious as death. “You can’t, Lizzie. You just can’t.”

  I was afraid of that.

  Chapter 10

  Just when I was afraid I’d screw up Grandma’s rescue, Dimitri beat me to the punch. I jogged after my new trainer—the only man who could help me save Grandma—as his boots crunched across the parking lot. One hushed conversation with the red headed witch and instead of training me, Dimitri made a beeline for the bike we rode in on.

  “Where in Narnia do you think you’re going?”

  He slammed to a halt, and I nearly ran into the back of him. “Back to hell,” he growled. “Or at least as close as we’ve got to it around here.” His eyes flicked over me. “Don’t do anything crazy when I’m gone.”