by Angie Fox
"Sorry about that," I said, not really meaning it.
He just laughed. "I was actually kind of proud of you." He shook his head. "I know. It's dumb." He continued on. "We're installing a new tomb upstairs tonight, so it's not like anything new will be coming through. You can come by tomorrow morning and I'll show you what we have so far."
Because whatever beasties he wanted me to tackle could wait. That was so Dad.
On the other hand, logic said he wasn't being completely honest with me. The tomb installation was a big deal. And the Earls powers had been growing even after I'd destroyed the Tomb of Kebechet. Whatever he had planned for tonight would no doubt enhance the Earl's influence.
Dad gave me a hug outside the restaurant and I let him. It didn't mean anything. He pulled back and studied me. Did he wonder if he'd gone too far? Given me too much?
Well, it was too late now.
"Come by the church at nine o'clock sharp," he said, his hands on my shoulders. "I'll be waiting for you."
I broke away. "I'll see you then."
Maybe.
After all, I had a lot to do in the meantime.
Excitement ripped through me as I went to retrieve my bike. Those stares I was getting? Some came from women who judged me for flashing a little skin. But the ones from the men? Try lust, desire. Amazing. I'd never seen it before.
Maybe dark angels really did have more fun. I laughed out loud, stifled it as best I could.
I wasn't dark. Just… touched.
I walked through an alley, to a lot wedged between two of the taller buildings. My bike was parked between two Aston Martins. You had to love Hollywood. I rolled it out, careful not to so much as breathe on either of the cars that cost more than my house.
A presence approached from the west: a solid wall of witchcraft. I had about two seconds' warning before the witches blazed into the tiny parking lot.
Jesus Christ on a Christmas tree.
They came two abreast. That's all that could fit down the narrow side street. They poured into the lot like hot sand through a sieve.
I shut off my engine because—let's face it—I wasn't going anywhere. I got off my bike and walked over to an old rock median that was really just a glorified speed bump. I'd barely yanked my helmet off before Shiloh ran up, boobs ready to pop out of her red latex dress.
"Goodness, Lizzie, what did you do?" she asked. "I can't believe you'd touch the darkness."
"I can't believe you can run in those," I said, pointing to her goldfish stripper heels.
She grasped my arm with both hands as I hung my helmet over my handlebars. "I felt you go down. What happened?"
I yanked my arm back. "I took a little of my dad's power to show he can trust me."
She dropped her hands. "But he can't trust you."
"Fuck." I glanced out toward the Strip, hoping he wasn't witnessing this. "That's the point."
But her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed. "You're in with them now."
Chapter Nineteen
Because I cussed. I cursed sometimes. Okay, rarely.
Used to be never.
I shook her off. She acted like a child, speaking her truth without understanding what was truly happening.
Grandma strode up. "What's going on?"
Ant Eater and Frieda barked orders to the witches behind her.
I'd tell her what. "I had this thing going down with my dad." I was in control. I had him where I wanted him. "You driving past twelve times didn't help." At best, it was embarrassing. At the very worst, it could have kept my dad from trusting me.
Grandma held up her hands, as if I were the one out of line. "Hey. Sorry, hotshot. We were just keeping an eye on you."
Ah, yes. The stalker method. "I got it."
How could I get anything done with Harleys blasting up all around me?
Oh, and here came the talking dog. "Hey Lizzie!" Pirate leaped for my leg, missed, and planted a wet nose on my shin. He shook it off without missing a beat. "Did you see us with the top down?" His eyes danced and his entire body shook with excitement. "I have got to get a ride like that!"
"Yes," I agreed. "When they start selling convertibles to dogs, we'll be the first in line."
He lit up at that. "Promise?" he asked, completely missing my sarcasm.
I had to give him points for enthusiasm. "Sure," I answered. Why not? "Now excuse me. I'm busy." I turned back to Grandma. "You've got to rein it in. I'm not sure what you're doing anyway. There's nothing demonic in this parking lot."
She studied me, her tinsel highlights sparkling in the midday sun. "What are you smoking? This place is off. You want a repeat of this morning?"
"Of course not," I began.
She took a step back, completely unaware that I might have been the cause. "Spread out," she ordered the witches, "this is as good a place as any to get the bead on the bad guys."
"I call the sunny spot by the car!" Pirate hollered.
"For the love of Pete," I said as the witches began to work at an alarming rate. "If there was something to worry about, I'd know."
"Did you get in good with your dad?" Grandma asked.
"No thanks to you," I told her. "You know, sometimes it would be nice to be able to go someplace without the full armada behind me."
"Yeah, right," she said, as if I'd suggested going in naked. "Just remember: you called us."
And now I regretted it.
The witches clustered in groups. Every few seconds, a swirly blue anti-demonic spell zipped into the air. They usually smelled sweet, like cherries. Only these must have been a different recipe because they gave off the odor of Limburger cheese.
A particularly zingy spell thwacked me in the leg, stinging like a dragonfly. "Ow." I brushed it away and crushed it under my boot.
I glanced back at the assembly of witches. Creely stood, arms crossed, giving launch orders to Ant Eater. Shiloh was halfway down the alley, escaping a small swarm of spells. Poor thing.
Cripes. Frieda sat on the hood of an Aston Martin.
"So there's no way to get back into the church," Grandma stated, no doubt ready to plan an invasion.
Another anti-demonic spell zipped past me, buzzing my left ear. "I didn't say that." Two more spells spiraled south. I knew exactly where they were headed. Sue me if I wanted to go with them. "He's letting me in tomorrow at nine."
She watched me for a long second. "Impressive. How'd you talk him into it?"
"Never mind," I told her, "just let me handle things tomorrow."
She let out a snort. "No way, chica. We're with you to the end. You can sneak us in the side door."
Yes, because the Red Skulls were so good at sneaking.
Frankly, I didn't know whether to involve them or not. "We'll talk about it tomorrow." Despite my better sense, I added, "at dawn." That would make them happy.
A spell nipped at my ankle. I shook it off.
Part of me wished the biker witches understood the concept of sleeping in. Or at least staying in bed until the sun came up. But the only way that happened on their end was if they'd been making friends with Jack Daniel's the night before. I certainly didn't want any hungover witches on my team.
"Okay, then." Grandma clapped me on the back, just about knocking the wind out of me. "Good plan."
Exactly. "So can you all just…go?" It sounded harsh, and they had helped me out tremendously this morning, so I softened it a little. "I'll call you if I need you. But right now, I'd like a second to think."
Frieda slid down off the car. "Seems to me like it was just getting interesting."
"Not when you know how to hot-wire one of these babies," Creely said, easing out of the yellow Porsche convertible three cars down.
Oh, help me Rhonda. Yes, they had to leave. Now.
Grandma took a look around. "Yeah, you know the spells aren't hanging around here anyway." She shot a glance at me. "Let's go, ladies," she said, addressing the Red Skulls. "Pack it up and move out. We may still have time to prepare
for Flea Fest."
Lord, I hoped their motel didn't have fleas. I was wearing one of Frieda's outfits. "How did you get bugs?" I hoped Bob didn't have them. I watched Pirate hop into his sidecar and settle into his lap as he tried to buckle his seat belt under fifteen pounds of dog.
Grandma rolled her eyes. "Flea Fest is a craft fair, genius. We sell enchanted soaps, body lotions, and marital aids."
I didn't even want to know. "You're not supposed to enchant people against their will." One day, they'd understand that.
She gave a sly grin, watching her coven as they took to their bikes and began pulling out of the lot. "It's okay to give a little help now and then."
I could never get over how quickly they could get assembled and on those bikes. I guess thirty years of running from a demon could do that to you.
"You coming?" Grandma asked, holding back.
I shook my head. "I just need a second to think."
She winked. "See you on the flip side."
"Thanks for this morning," I called.
She kept walking toward her bike, not bothering to turn around as she raised her hand in a casual wave.
I turned my back on them and let out a sigh as the Red Skulls rumbled away. I looked up to the blue sky, to the clouds gathering in the south.
What I'd done with my dad, what had happened, it couldn't be too bad, could it? I didn't feel different.
I let the tension ease out of me as the last roars of the Harleys faded into the distance. I closed my eyes and breathed in the hot desert air, tinged with exhaust fumes. It was all good.
Until the bike noise started up again.
This time, I heard the roar of a single engine, flying full-tilt down the alley.
I opened my eyes.
Dimitri.
He didn't even bother to pull in the right way. He drove straight across the median next to me, his tires spitting rocks and dead grass. He barely missed the luxury cars and cut his engine with his front tire a foot away from my leg. I could feel the heat radiating from the machine.
"Are you insane?" I asked, as he shut down his bike.
He yanked off his helmet, focused on one person: me. "What's wrong?" he demanded.
"You're looking at it right here," I told him, referring to craziness that was my life. It was like being followed by the circus. "If I ever have to go undercover, I'm in deep shit." I couldn't even make it out of a parking lot without a two-act stage play.
Dimitri got off his bike, and as yummy as he looked doing it, I wished I could stuff him back on.
His black hair curled with sweat and he had a dark look in his eye. "Walk with me," he said, wrapping a leather-clad arm around my shoulder.
"Where?" I asked. We were in a parking lot.
He led me a short distance away toward a grassy spot that had a little shade.
"Level with me," he said. "I know something's up." His grip was strong. "I felt something inside you shift. It scared the hell out of me."
I sighed. I didn't know what to say.
Dimitri lowered his head to look at me. The sun shone directly overhead, and shadows from the tall buildings on either side of us cast hollows under his cheekbones. His eyes had gone piercing green, like they did when his adrenaline was pumping. "I know you, whether you like it or not."
Not.
"What you felt is nothing." Okay, that was a lie. It was something. But nothing he needed to think about. "It was a blip. A means to an end." His eyes crinkled at the corners. He wasn't buying it. I ran a hand down his arm in an effort to calm him. He was drawn tight, his muscles as hard as granite. "My dad needed to trust me, and so I let him in."
"How?" he demanded, his voice clipped.
If I told him the truth, he'd have puppies. An entire litter. Dozens. I'd be buried in dogs.
I wound my fingers in his. "I followed the Three Truths of the Demon Slayer." Lessons he'd taught me. "Look to the outside. Accept the universe. Sacrifice yourself." I really hated that last one. But this time, it wasn't so bad.
He wasn't convinced. He squeezed my hand, his grip strong and steady. "What you did," he said slowly, "it didn't feel right."
There was a time when he wouldn't have known better. He would have been reacting on instinct and not concrete experience. But I'd tied myself to him when I married him. Our powers had melded. He could tell when I was off. And it was biting me in the ass at the moment. I went on the offensive with the only bit of solid fact I had. "I think I know more about being a demon slayer than you do." He couldn't argue that.
He tilted his head, as if he could see it by looking at me.
I ran a hand down his arm, reached up, and gave him a peck on the cheek. He eased up under my touch. "I think I just need some time alone. To think." He understood how crazy things had been lately.
His expression softened and I knew I'd won. "Let's get you home," he said, wrapping an arm around me.
About that… I extricated myself from his grip. "Give me an hour or two. I want to take a walk." I needed to chill out, to try to figure out what I just did.
He hesitated, his need to respect my independence warring with his desire to keep me safe at all costs. "You're just going to walk," he said, both as a question and a statement.
"Maybe buy a new outfit." I felt like a hooker. "I'm going to leave my bike here for the moment," I said. "I mean, I paid twenty bucks." As far as I was concerned, I'd have to leave it there for a week to earn my money back.
"And you won't do anything crazy," he said.
I gave a slight shrug. "I don't know. I might skip."
He looked slightly horrified at that.
"Relax, babe." I reached out and squeezed his hand. "I need ten minutes. A half hour, tops. I'll see you at home."
Reluctantly, he let me go.
***
Walking felt…great. In all honesty, I hadn't had a moment to think, to be, since that fenris showed up on our beach. I half expected Dimitri to follow me, but he let me have my space.
I passed a clothing shop featuring ripped jeans and rocker T-shirts. I almost stopped. I'd told Dimitri the truth. I could use a new outfit. Then again, I liked the looks I was getting in this one. I kept walking, past the clothing shop and a store full of knockoff movie memorabilia. I paused outside the dull black exterior of the Viper Room (good-bye River Phoenix), and resisted the urge to stop and get a henna tattoo. With every step, I felt the tension begin to ease out of me.
The sun felt a little warm, but the sky was blue and the air refreshing. I might save my sanity yet.
I headed south on Alta Drive and walked down into a more residential area. Palm trees stood guard outside squat retro apartment complexes and immaculately kept 1950s- era homes.
It was quaint, fun, and…interesting the farther south I walked. Shadows beckoned, slinking between the cracks of the sidewalks and under doorways as I approached. It was almost as if they were teasing me.
I smiled as I picked up my pace. At Santa Monica Boulevard, the residential street opened onto a more businesslike avenue.
That's when I admitted to myself that I was drawing closer to my dad's church. Hadn't I known it all along?
There was no harm in it. Not truly. I mean yes, I hadn't exactly planned it, but now that I'd headed in that direction, I might as well see if anything had changed there. After all, the witches let all those anti-demon spells loose. No telling what trouble they would cause. I didn't want anything to disrupt the meeting with my father in the morning.
The presence grew stronger the farther south I traveled. Only this time, it called to me.
I gave a slight pause before continuing on my way. It must be linked to that taste I'd had of my dad's powers. If this was what it felt like to him, no wonder he was proud.
The biker witches would never approve.
But truly, as a demon slayer, I owed it to myself and to the Red Skulls to see what might have changed at the Salvation of the Hills.
I broke into a jog, anxious to see what I w
ould find. I sensed the growing presence, the strong, rich power. I darted across the street toward Saint Lucia, ignoring the honking of horns and the squealing of tires. Pedestrians had the right of way. Probably.
It's not like anyone hit me.
I turned one final corner and hurried toward the gleaming art deco theater turned worship center. Hades, it was gorgeous.
A group of men in a black pickup truck started honking and catcalling. I thought it was for me, until I saw them gesturing at Shiloh. She stood in the park just across the street, and made quite a sight in her skintight red dress and crazy stripper heels.
Shiloh didn't even notice the men. She stood, arms dangling at her sides, every bit of her attention focused on the power emanating from the church.
Tell me about it, babe.
I crossed the street, even though it almost killed me to do it. As I drew up next to her I almost moaned. The call of the church zinged up my arms and swirled up my spine, a fabulous, delicious blast of power. Oh yes, she'd found a sweet spot.
"What'cha doing?" I asked, knowing full well.
She jumped at the sound of my voice. "Nothing!" She bit at her plump lower lip, guilty as hell. There was no need. I totally got it now. "I'm not absorbing the energy of the portals if that's what you're thinking," she said quickly.
I smiled and gave her a nudge. "This is a good spot."
A furrow formed between her brows. "Oh, God." She turned her gaze back to the church, as if that would change things. "I was right about you."
"I'm fine," I assured her. "Just…enhanced."
"You're trouble is what you are," she lectured, before losing the battle and breathing the power deep into her lungs. "Oh, baby." She closed her eyes. "I had to stop by. Just for a little bit. It was so close and I did my part this morning." She let out a small sigh. "I deserve a little pick-me-up."
"Absolutely," I told her. The church looked deserted. Maybe Dad had told the truth when he said he'd shut it down for that tomb installation.
I could feel Shiloh watching me now. "We should go," she said breathlessly. She didn't say the rest, but I understood clearly enough.
Before we do anything stupid.
