What to Expect When Your Demon Slayer is Expecting

by Angie Fox

  Once the witches provide the power to push you beyond the veil, I will guide you to the Scour. We will locate the scavenger that has possessed your mother, and we’ll set the trap for it.

  “How?” I demanded.

  Your energy is vastly more suitable for its consumption than hers, and it will be drawn to you like a moth to a flame. Then you shall kill it, and all shall be well.

  “How does the trap work, exactly?” I’d asked twice already and still hadn’t gotten a clear answer.

  The trap is nothing more than a framework for your energy, completely harmless to you but challenging to construct. I can construct and maintain it far more readily than you could hope to, and speed will be important in the Scour. It won’t be healthy for you to remain close to it for long.

  I had a brief vision of being stranded in outer space, surrounded by nothing but black emptiness—frozen, airless and alone. I blinked and shook my head.

  “Don’t put pictures in my mind.”

  You said you wanted to see. I really am helping you.

  Perhaps. The spirit wasn’t trying to get me killed—of that, I was sure. What he wanted from me after all of his help…well, I’d handle that once my mom was safe.

  Your focus should be on providing the necessary energy to bait it then taking care of the scavenger once it’s hooked, he continued.

  I could handle that. Heck, I’d literally torn my soul in two before in order to kill a demon—this wouldn’t be nearly as severe. “What about—” I paused as I watched three of the biker witches carry an enormous flowerpot that had just recently held a bunch of geraniums toward the pool house.

  A mottled tentacle emerged from the pot, covered in greenish slime and writhing maliciously. Before I could even pull a switch star, one of the witches reached out and slapped at it with a skinny bundle of tightly woven twigs. The tentacle cringed and pulled itself back into the pot.

  “Don’t even think about it!” she snapped, and they all walked on. Typical day with the biker witches.

  How very eldritch, the spirit commented approvingly. Your coven is pulling out all the stops.

  “Why would they need anything sinister?” I balked. “We’re not going to Hell.”

  Better to have the proper tools on hand than to be caught wanting.

  Look who was a Boy Scout all of a sudden.

  I was distracted from my helpful spirit by the sight of Dimitri appearing around the side of the house, carrying a massive wooden rectangle over his head. He’d changed out of the torn clothing he’d worn out of Philippa’s garden and I couldn’t help but admire how his biceps strained his T-shirt to the breaking point. His expression was pretty serene, though. I wouldn’t even have known he was feeling it if not for the faint shine of sweat across his brow and along his neck.

  Hillary had told me once that women didn’t sweat, they glowed. Dimitri was living proof that sometimes, men glowed too. I got up and walked over to meet him. “Need any help with that, hot stuff?”

  He winked and lowered the wooden slab to the ground next to him. “I think I can handle it from here.”

  I looked over the wood with interest. “Wow, this is great,” I marveled. The last time the witches had done a ceremony like this, they’d cobbled together several different pieces of redwood to make a big enough altar. This thing could have doubled as a life raft on the Titanic. “Where did you find it?”

  Dimitri scratched his chin a bit sheepishly. “Did you know there’s an empty house a few blocks down?”

  My jaw dropped. “Wait, did you…” Now that I looked more closely, I could definitely see hinges on one side of the enormous piece of wood.

  “I don’t think it’s a door that anyone will miss. As soon as the ceremony is over, I’ll take it back.”

  “It might be covered in tentacle slime by then,” I warned.

  Dimitri raised an eyebrow. “Do you know anything I don’t about this ceremony?”

  Ugh. “Never mind. I’m sure it’ll rinse off.”

  “Aha!” Grandma walked up next to us and ran her hands over the door. “Black walnut, excellent choice. Black walnut for the altar will be like injecting nitrox into your astral projection, Lizzie. Boomer! Jude!” Two witches broke off from the hubbub around the pool house and came over. “Let’s get this inside and sigiled up.” She turned back to me. “Five more minutes and we should be good to go. You might want to grab Hillary.”

  My guts clenched. “Right.” I hated seeing my mom fade away, but I had to keep it together now. Just a little while longer, and this would all be over. I’d save her.

  I had to.

  Dimitri kissed the side of my head. I turned and our lips met. No one was better at revving me up or soothing me to calmness than Dimitri. “I’ll go with you,” he said once we separated. “I can help carry her if she needs it.”

  Turned out, she needed it. She didn’t want to need it, brushing off our attempts at first, but when Hillary almost fell after getting to her feet, Dimitri made an executive decision and just swept her into his arms.

  “Oh my.” She blinked up at him then looked archly at Cliff. “Are you taking notes, dear?”

  “Of course.” He winked at her, but the moment Dimitri turned away, he took my hand with a worried look. “Lizzie…is this thing you’re doing safe?”

  “Safer than letting her stay the way she is,” I said with complete honesty. “I have to get the scavenger out of her, or she’ll die. With the coven’s help, I’m confident I can do this, Dad.”

  He held my gaze for another minute then squeezed my hand. “You’ve become a hell of a strong lady, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”

  His words touched me more than I could ever tell him. I gave Cliff a quick hug then dashed after Dimitri and my mom.

  The witches had been doing this for longer than I’d been alive. We could pull this off.

  The alternative was unthinkable.

  Dimitri, Mom and I entered the pool house side by side, which was good, because if I’d been in front, they would have run into me when I stopped abruptly.

  The place had been completely transformed. All the windows were covered with cloth, creating a cave-like atmosphere. The smell of sage hung heavy in the air, the primary ingredient for the Red Skulls’ wards. I guess they really didn’t want the scavenger following me back from the Scour and manifesting here. Good thinking.

  The only light came from thick red candles melted in place on the tiles, creating the shape of a pentacle. A biker witch sat behind each one, chanting in unison with each other—but completely silently. I could sense the movement of the air in and out of their mouths, but I couldn’t hear anything. Each of their chins was painted with a black squiggle that looked familiar, but I’d definitely never seen a spell before that literally enforced silence.

  Grandma sat cross-legged about a foot back from the black walnut door, which now had a pentacle burned into the wood. I winced internally. Maybe we could sand it out before we put it back? She waved us over. A brass gong was set up on her left, the goat skull on her right. In the center of the altar was a familiar-looking bunny rabbit on a leash, chewing contentedly on a bundle of herbs.

  “Aw, really?” I asked before I could help it. Using animals in rituals like this was a safety precaution, like having a canary in a coal mine. The bad energy you might encounter, demonic or otherwise, would take them out before it got to you, giving you time to save yourself. I’d used guppies and even birds before, but never a creature as big as a rabbit. Especially not one that had escaped near-death already today.

  “Safety first,” Grandma said primly. She wasn’t wearing one of the squiggles, I noticed. “You and Hillary get up on the altar,” she continued. “Once you’re ready, tell me, and we’ll start charging things up. And be careful, Lizzie,” she added. “Hell is one thing, but strange dimensions no one else has ever heard of require special handling.”

  I nodded firmly. “I’ve got it.” Dimitri laid Hillary down gently—she was either as
leep or unconscious now—and I positioned myself so that I was cross-legged by her head. He backed off to the edge of the room to watch and wait—Dimitri would be the first to admit he didn’t know anything about witchcraft.

  “Ready?” Grandma asked me.

  I nodded. “Ready.”

  The water of the pool in front of us was totally black now, shivering slightly as a dark form swam beneath its surface. Grandma murmured an incantation, and the light from all the candles flared.

  This was it. Now or never. I had the power of the witches. I had the love of my parents and the backing of my husband. I could do this.

  I closed my eyes.

  “Are you there?” I asked the spirit.

  Ready and waiting, Elizabeth.

  He sounded different now. He wasn’t just in my head but beside me, above me, all around me. I could almost feel his essence covering every inch of my skin, and I suppressed a shudder. “Back off,” I warned him.

  The psychic pressure relaxed. My apologies. I’m simply learning the shape of your energy so that the trap I construct fits perfectly.

  “Well, do it from a distance.”

  Oh, I think I have what I need now, he purred. Look down into the water. I believe that will be the simplest way for you to share my vision.

  I looked. For a few moments I saw nothing but depthless black before a coal-red spark appeared in the center of the pool. It darted like a firefly on speed, leaving a crimson trail that gradually took on a familiar shape. With a start, I realized that the spark was painting a picture of me.

  It looked like a statue done in wire—lovely, but hollow.

  The spark vanished, leaving behind the me-shaped trap. I stood alone, as alone as I felt, against the murky black.

  Now reach into your core, the very seat of your vital energy, the spirit murmured. Once again he felt too close, like his lips were hovering just over my ear. Slice a bit of it free and send it into the trap. I will anchor it there and guide us both to the Scour.

  The meditation-speak he was using on me was a little confusing, but I understood what he meant. I focused on the power inside me, on my demon-slayer strength and the way it infused every corner of me. That energy was like a roaring flame, and I only needed a candle’s worth to bait the trap. I separated a tiny bit of energy and visualized it settling into the wire frame, expanding and filling it.

  Goooood, the spirit hissed. Perfect. Now, to set the bait. Tread carefully.

  All of a sudden, the image changed from the trap to a swirling nexus, almost like a portal, but this was different, darker. There was no light on the other side of that, I knew. It felt like being pulled toward a black hole. The larger it loomed in my vision, the more uncomfortable I became, as though my skin were crawling with ants. Even though I couldn’t see anything through there, I could feel a dark presence just out of reach. Unconsciously, I whimpered.

  Be easy, the spirit said. The trap is laid. We will wait just beyond the darkness. Once the scavenger is seduced and has begun to feed, I will close the trap. Are you with me? he pressed.

  “I am,” I whispered.

  As you pull your energy back to you, the scavenger will be forced to come along. Patience. You’ll grow more accustomed to the feeling soon.

  Patience, ha. He didn’t even have skin to crawl or hair to stand on end. Moments later, the image of the trap faded.

  It has gone into the Scour.

  I nodded, feeling the tether of my own energy connecting me to it. I focused on that tether, feeling it bend and stretch at the end of my line.

  My stomach hollowed as a darkness crept up on the edges of the trap. I could feel it in my bones and fought the urge to run like hell.

  The wickedness lapped against the edges of my power, tasting.

  Not yet, the spirit murmured. It spoke from the center of my forehead, like it was using my own third eye to see. The skin there began to itch. Not yet…

  The scavenger became bolder. I could feel it, testing icy teeth on the base of the trap.

  Wait…

  Slowly, it began to climb, leaving nothing but a lifeless chill in its wake. It scaled the red energy frame, the feet, the knees.

  It reached mid-thigh.

  I felt my own thighs go numb.

  A little more…

  The chill enveloped the trap’s waist.

  Now, Elizabeth! the spirit snapped. Pull it back!

  I heaved my energy. I dragged the darkness and the trap with all my strength and will and power back through the nexus, back through the dark beyond.

  The water began to bubble and froth.

  I let out a cry as I pulled harder.

  I could see it!

  The glow was dulled, its brilliance banked by distance and dimensions and the scavenger’s formless bulk. I felt its insatiable hunger, its unyielding lust for power and strength.

  It wanted me.

  I heard Hillary groan like she was waking up from a long sleep.

  Yes! I pulled harder.

  “Her eyes are open!” Ant Eater hollered.

  My breath came in pants, my power stretched. I grinned and reached for a switch star. It was time to finish this.

  “Now!” Grandma struck the gong as hard as she could.

  All of a sudden I could hear the witches again, shouting a familiar chant as the black squiggles on their chins manifested into Ant Eater’s winged spell from New Orleans.

  “Darkness, danger, black as night, be ye blocked by witches’ light! Coven strong and power bright, keep thee out of mine own sight!”

  The scavenger arched its back and howled. I almost lost my grip!

  “Calm down!” I shouted at the witches. “I’m trying to get a good shot!”

  The room was shaking. The trap listed from side to side. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the witches’ spells split into millions of tiny golden specks. They filled the pool house, lighting it up like Vegas.

  “Stop it!” I ordered.

  They flew in a monstrous wave of light directly at my head.

  I took my shot anyway. It went way wide right before the spells slammed into me.

  “Aaah!” I shrieked and flung up my arms, but they impacted me like hundreds of warm feathers. The spells covered me with protective energy, blocking out everything else.

  I lost my hold on the tether. The scavenger dropped away with a furious howl, and the spirit vanished.

  12

  I lost him! I couldn’t believe I lost him.

  I scrambled to the edge of the pool, brushing away the witches’ feathery magic, trying to see past the blazing light and magic remnants floating down and the spots in my eyes from the sudden switch from dark to light.

  “What did you do?” I demanded, scanning the swirling depths of the pool. The water had lightened back to green. I could see the bottom. It was awful.

  “I had it!” In my grip. “You made me lose it!”

  The witches had never blown a trap like that, not that we’d ever done a trap, but they’d never screwed up a mission before. I turned and saw Grandma glaring at me, her arms crossed, ready for a fight.

  It was as if she’d done it on purpose. “What the hell did you do?” I demanded.

  “I saved your life,” Grandma shot back, “probably your afterlife as well.”

  Fat chance. I shot to my feet and strode to her. “I had the scavenger right in my sights! I was about to smash it!”

  Grandma met me halfway. “It didn’t look right. It didn’t smell right. Hell, it didn’t act right.”

  And suddenly she was the expert? “It’s a scavenger from the Scour. How’s it supposed to act?” It was dark and creepy. Stinky, too. What else did she want? This was ridiculous. “You’d never even heard of one until the spirit told you about it.”

  Her expression darkened. “Told you,” she countered. “And I don’t know what that was in the pool, but it wasn’t a creature of the dark. If it was, our wards would have gone crazy.” She pointed at the bags hanging over every
window. “They didn’t even twitch. There was no new evil coming into play, Lizzie. The only evil we’re dealing with is the one you invited in.”

  Okay, that was the reason for the silence spells, for the covered pots of who-knew-what, and for the witches refusing to let me help set up. They were shutting me out. They didn’t trust me!

  Unbelievable. “You haven’t been with me from the start.” Apprehension flashed over Grandma’s face, but she didn’t deny it. She’d gone in to this thing convinced we were taking too much of a risk. And then she’d made it a self-fulfilling prophecy.

  She dug her thumbs under her belt. “That spirit is bad news, Lizzie.”

  “I know that.” I wasn’t an idiot. Although it seemed I’d been a fool to trust the biker witches—my friends, my own grandmother. I ran a hand over my face. This was a disaster. “Look, I get that I shouldn’t be messing with the spirit. That part’s a no-brainer,” I admitted, expecting my New Orleans buddy to pipe in and defend himself.

  I glanced around the room when I didn’t detect any sign of him.

  “We warded him out,” she said. “He can’t touch you in here.”

  “Banished by light magic,” I mused. I wasn’t surprised. More annoyed. I planted a hand on my hip. “It seems you’ve thought of everything,” I concluded. “Except how to save my mom.”

  Grandma sighed and glanced to Ant Eater, who shook her head. “Yeah, we don’t know that,” she admitted. “But I swear he was playing you. We all saw it.”

  The witches behind Ant Eater nodded.

  They were against me. Every damned one of them.

  That was when I saw Dimitri, my Dimitri, standing behind them. It about broke my heart. “What do you think?” I said, by way of warning.

  “Lizzie…” His shoulders stiffened. “It didn’t look good from here. I think we need to be smart.”

  “Smart,” I repeated. “Safe and completely ineffective,” I ground out. I couldn’t believe I was looking at the Red Skulls. “Screwing me as I had a grip on the scavenger,” I added, addressing the room. “Risking my mom. That’s smart.” My own husband. My grandmother. My friends. They were never with me from the start.