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Authors: Angie Fox

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Night of the Living Demon Slayer (13 page)

BOOK: Night of the Living Demon Slayer
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"Got it." I told her. "I'll take the lead." I had the best weapons.

Osse Pade might be looking for me anyway. But he sure as heck wasn't expecting the Red Skulls.

***

We closed in on our target shortly after sunset. At a signal from Creely, the witches pulled their bikes off the highway onto a spot that looked like any other maze of trees along the secluded bayou roadway.

In less than a minute, the bikes were hidden under tan tarps made to look like leaf-strewn ground.

The biker witches had brought
tarps
. I tried not to let that blow my mind too much.

Instead, I focused on the sizzle of dark magic in the air. My demon slayer senses urged me forward into the swamp. I stuck to the shadows on the side of the narrow dirt road and motioned the witches to follow.

The emerald at my neck warmed as I strained to see into the pitch darkness in front of me. The moon was high, but it did little to help me navigate the swampy ground, tangled with tree roots and littered with holes. I slowed, hoping the biker witches were behind me. I didn't hear them. I turned and realized with a jolt that they were nowhere to be seen.

Sweet heaven. "Grandma?" I hissed.

Had something gotten hold of them already? Or perhaps I'd been overeager and lost them. Fear rippled up my spine. I felt…alone.

"Grandma," I said, louder this time, my heart beating hard. They couldn't just disappear on me.

A hand closed over my left arm and quick as lightening, I drew a switch star with my right.

"Whoa!" Grandma said, low and harsh. "Take it easy." I still didn't see her. "I'm right here. Just got a Sneak Spell in my bra."

I whooshed out a breath as I sheathed my switch star. "How'd you turn on the camouflage?" I didn't do anything to the spell in my bra.

She shook her head, her face a shadow. "You don't have to."

"Were you invisible back there?" I hadn't seen her.

"No, just hard to notice. They work best in the dark."

No kidding.

"Now relax," she said, letting go of me. "We're all here."

"Right," I said, moving forward again. According to Creely's map, we'd walk about a fourth of a mile, and make a hard left at a narrow dirt path. I didn't see any guards. Not yet. But I had a feeling there would be plenty coming up.

They were holding Carpenter nearby. I felt it in the heaviness of the air, in the wisps of dark magic that lingered just beyond reach. I could almost hear him calling out to me. I could almost feel his pain along with the ties that bound him.

I increased my pace, letting go of my need to plan each step I took, letting my demon slayer senses take over as I navigated the uneven ground. I didn't slow, not even when my emerald necklace began to hum.

The chain thickened and turned to soft, warm metal. It slithered down my chest, and wound around my left arm like a snake.

At least it wasn't my throwing hand.

I'd refused to admit it out loud earlier, but my drop-in on Osse Pade's horror house had left me more confused than enlightened.

Demons I was used to. They were power-hungry, pure evil, and quite transparent in their desire to slice my soul into a snowflake chain before snuffing me out completely.

Osse Pade had a fascination with death, black souls, and something else he refused to name. And he held sway over the kind of spirits that could haunt me into the next generation.

Worse, we didn't know his end game—or what he was capable of.

We came up on a path to the left that led to a low bridge over the water. Torches burned on either side, as if they expected us.

It looked like a trap.

No wonder Carpenter hadn't come this way last night. I ducked to the side of the path and raised a hand to tell the witches to hold up.

Grandma eased up next to me. "Nice," she muttered. With an under-hand toss, she launched a round, black sneak spell at the bridge. It bounced over the wood boards and sent up a vibrant magical shockwave. I felt it more than I saw it.

She gave a hand signal and Ant Eater advanced, with Frieda covering her.

When Ant Eater reached the edge of the bridge, she lobbed another sneak spell into the center before she proceeded forward. At the middle, she threw one to the end. It seemed they covered about ten feet in any direction.

"It's not good to just wear them?" I whispered to Grandma.

"Usually it is. With so many of us going over that bridge, this is added insurance."

Okay. Got it.

She held up two fingers and that seemed to be our cue.

Grandma nudged me. "Come on."

A chorus of frogs croaked as we hurried across. No telling where they came from all the sudden, but I was thankful the noise covered the creaking of the wood under our feet.

When we joined Ant Eater and Frieda on the other side, I realized the witches were the source of the noise. Ant Eater let out two short croaks and within seconds, a chorus sounded from all around us.

"Everybody's in position," she told Grandma.

I tried to see the witches through the trees. It was impossible. I could barely see the ones right next to me. "How'd they all make it to the other side?"

I could hear rather than see Creely's grin. "Bridge. Some also used deep swamp maneuvers." She shoved something into my hand, and when it nearly slipped out, I realized it was a sneak spell. "An extra in case you need it. Wait. One more."

I gave her a quick nod and shoved them both into my utility belt.

We pressed forward several yards until we saw the light of more torches. Men's voices filtered out over the bayou. Whoever they were, they didn't bother to hide.

"You do not need to hurt him. Leave that to the bokor," one chastised.

"Ah, but he is so easy to tease."

They had to be talking about Carpenter.

Grandma patted me on the back as I took the lead, drawing one of the sneak spells from my belt. The creature in the back of my utility belt snarled, as if it were inconveniencing him. Useless beast.

"Who is that?" The massive head guard from the other night stepped from behind a tree, blocking my way. I slammed the sneak spell onto the ground in front of him. It exploded like a firecracker.

"What the hey?" I protested.

"She's here!" he shouted.

The burly guard drew a potion from his pocket.

"Run!" Grandma ordered.

My botched spell began darting around, out of control.

Grandma fired off something of her own as I dashed past. I heard the whoosh of magic behind me as the witches joined in.

I didn't know what had gone wrong, except that I sucked at magic. I hadn't added anything to the spell. I hadn't had time.

Up ahead a round hut stood surrounded by burning torches. Drums sounded in the distance. I didn't know what was in that hut, but every demon slayer instinct I had screamed at me to launch myself at the danger inside.
 

Decision made. I drew a switch star and shoved open the simple reed door, only then seeing the symbols scrawled over the surface in thick, rusty blood.

I stopped short.

A single lantern lit the dingy space. Carpenter hunkered under it, shirtless and barefoot, wearing the same pants he'd had on last night. They were stained with blood and he had an open wound on his side. But it was the look of horror his face that halted me.

He held out a hand, as if to block me. "Don't come any farther," he ordered.

Fine. "The guards are distracted. Let's go."

He swallowed hard, not moving an inch, bracing himself as if he needed all his strength to remain upright. "I can't."

Of course he could. I took a few more steps inside. He wasn't even tied up. "This is ridiculous," I said, ready to drag him out if I had to. "The witches can't hold them off forever—"

He shot up. "Don't cross the barrier!" I stopped at the edge of a white painted line on the ground. It surrounded Carpenter. He stood in the center of the circle. His breath came in pants. "It's hexed."

Frick. They had him bound in a way I hadn't expected.

No matter. "I get that the bokor is powerful, but you've got to come with me. Just try it." We had to push through this. "Your blood brought back a dead chicken I don't even want to think about what your bones could do."

"My bones?" The necromancer shook his head. "I know the danger." The fear was written on his face. "I can't move out of this circle. I tested it earlier by luring one of my guards in."

"What happened?"

"His blood boiled and he died."

Wow. "Okay." My mind raced for a solution. "We'll figure this out."

His eyes glittered with anger, like a tiger trapped in a cage. "I can't do a damned thing…except be glad as hell I got you into this," he muttered under his breath.

That made two of us. He wouldn't survive here long on his own. "If I'm going to help you, you've got to be straight with me: What do they want with your blood?"

He shook his head slowly. "They're trying to resurrect something, I don't know what." His shoulders drew tight, his lips thin.

We had to think. "All blood is not the same," I said, repeating the words of the spirit in the tower. "And all bones are not the same, either."

Surprise flashed across Carpenter's features. "You might be onto something."

"If I am, then you'd better tell me." We didn't have time to screw up.

He nodded sharply. "Go back to Aimee at the white voodoo shop. Ask her to take you to the grave of the three sisters."

"Lizzie," Frieda pressed the door open behind me, the smoke of the fight pouring in from around her.

The battle had moved closer. The witches fought guerilla-style, hiding behind the huts, tossing Paralyzing spells at the advancing, machete wielding guards. They exploded in showers of silver sparkles, toppling the guards mid-stride, mid-thrust, mid-attack. But it seemed like every time one went down, two more took his place.
 

Frieda and Ant Eater had been flanking the entrance to the hut, protecting me.

Ant Eater leaned her head in. "We're running out of ammo. We gotta get out of here."

"One second," I told her. I turned back to Carpenter. We wouldn't be able to take him with us. "I'm sorry."

He steeled himself. "This isn't on you."

I knew that, but I hated feeling powerless to get him out. "I'll ask Aimee about magical circles. Also, what are we looking for in that grave?"

"Aimee will know," he assured me. "Please be fast." I nodded, turned, and as I left, I heard him add, "I just hope it's still there."

Chapter Twelve

I nearly tripped over a renegade Paralyzing spell as I dashed out of the hut. "Let's go!" I hollered.

A guard came at me from the side, the same one who'd trapped me in the tree. The purple stripe down his nose glistened with sweat as he reached for me. Ant Eater hurled a spell jar over my right shoulder and it slammed into his chin, taking him down in a rain of silver sparkles.

"Bat out of Hells!" Grandma announced over the din of the battle.

The ground shook with a series of explosions. Frieda grabbed my arm and dropped a coal black jar down onto the ground in front of us. The impact rattled my teeth.

"Run," she said, still holding onto me. Together we bolted faster than I could have ever imagined. It felt like flying.

The huts whooshed past us, the trees. I barely saw Creely and Edwina covering our escape as we dashed across the narrow bridge. My joints clattered from the impact of my feet on the hard boards.

Frieda suddenly released me and I stumbled forward several feet. We were back at the clearing off the highway and I realized with a start that most of the bikes were already gone.

Good.

Motors groaned as witches surged up the hill and onto the road. Frieda tossed the tarp off her bike and drew a potato launcher off the back.

She hefted it over one shoulder like a soldier with a bazooka. "Duck," she ordered as she leveled her weapon and fired a shot that splotched in a wet mess near the tree line where we'd come from. The steamy vapor singed hot on my cheeks.

It sent up a cloud of green mist that completely enveloped everything behind it. "Grandma!"

She burst out of the mist with Creely, Edwina, and Ant Eater on her heels. "Go, go, go!" She hollered.

I hitched a leg over my bike and punched the throttle.

The green smoke thinned. Beyond it, I saw staggering bodies approaching across the swampland. It had to be the guards, fighting the effects of the paralyzing spell.
 

Ant Eater and Grandma fired up their bikes behind me, along with Creely and Edwina. "Everybody's out!" Ant Eater announced, before gunning it toward the road.

Everybody but Carpenter.

***

I hit the open road, guilt searing my chest. It about killed me to leave Carpenter alone in that place. Sure, he put on a brave face. I'd have done the same. But there was no getting around the fact that he was a prisoner in an enchanted circle, kept so they could use his blood.

Engines roared all around me, but I couldn't actually see any of the coven. It was the oddest feeling. I'd be glad to get rid of these sneak spells.

I pressed on along the remote road, trying not to dwell on Carpenter. If they were willing to bleed him, I shuddered to think what else they might do. They had him alone and powerless. I only hoped that what we'd find in the cemetery would change that.

As we neared the city, the witches tossed their sneak spells. I kept mine. I'd need it soon.

The coven regrouped along the highway and rode in formation, with Grandma at the lead and Ant Eater bringing up the rear. I stuck close to Grandma, not because I was in charge of this bunch, but because I needed to talk with her.

I got my opportunity after we exited the highway and took Tulane down to Rampart Street and turned into the French Quarter. It was slow going, what with the tourist traffic and the partiers out on the streets.

Surprisingly enough, no one paused to take a second look at a bunch of Harley riders wearing camouflage suits dangling with sticks and fake birds.

At least Frieda had stashed away the potato shooter.

BOOK: Night of the Living Demon Slayer
6.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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