A Girl's Guide to Demon Hunting (27 page)

BOOK: A Girl's Guide to Demon Hunting
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    Panic was etched on Camilla’s face as she tried to push her way towards me but she was no match for Julie’s power.  I struggled to my feet and leaned against the wall, a quick look towards Mateo showing the puddle was still growing which meant his heart was still bleeding out. Really, was he ever going to die? I turned my attention back to Camilla, who was making progress in closing the distance between the two of us.
    Not wanting her to get any closer, I pushed away from the wall and found that unlike her, I could move at normal speed. I took a few painful steps and clutching the dagger I aimed for her marker and lunged. Anticipating my target, she blocked the dagger with her hand and the blade slipped up her wrist where it tangled in her charm bracelet. She let out a scream as the blade sliced deep into her wrist and fell backwards just as hands grabbed me from behind and dragged me into darkness.  
    I landed in a heap onto some really soft carpet. The mumbled sound of Julie cursing broke the silence and I rolled to my back and struggled to stay conscious. I had no idea where I was but I was happy to be alive. She got to her feet and reached a hand out to help me up when a loud bang and flash of white light blinded us. I suddenly I found Julie’s body covering mine from the new threat. I heard the muffled sounds of people shouting over the ringing in my ears. The last thing I saw before I finally slipped away into darkness was Julie being dragged away kicking and screaming.

Chapter 55
"Grrrr."
            
    -Pancake

   
“You’re sure?” I asked, clenching my fists tighter in an effort to not shout.

    I’d woken a few hours ago and had just only began to feel like my brain hadn’t been shoved in a blender. I was still in my hospital bed. Thankfully Jenny had managed to get me out of the hospital gown and into a T-shirt, although I’m thinking Ace and Shooter had a hand in picking it out since ‘I Killed a Demon and I Liked it’ was printed on the front.
    “Yes,” the King said, “I’m sorry I can’t give you more time to decide. You have ten minutes. Whichever you choose, you have my eternal gratitude for what you’ve done.”
    “Thank you.” I said with a small bow of my head.
    I still hadn’t been out of bed since waking up on that carpet with Julie and since I had tubes coming out of both hands, I really had no other way of genuflecting, not that I’d know what to do with my hands if I could.
     When the door shut solidly behind him, I unclenched my fists, wincing as pain shot up my arms. Whatever was flowing in those tubes wasn’t pain killers. Pulling my hands out from under the covers, I examined my palms. A fresh line of blood appeared on the gauze.  
    Great, I’d reopened my cut.
   The slam of the door banging against the wall pulled my attention away from my wound  and back to the present. Jenny, a squirming Pancake in her arms, squeezed into the small room, Ace and Shooter right on her heels.
    She put Pancake on the foot of the bed and after giving her a small pat she sat down in the only chair in the room. Ace and Shooter took their places on either side of the door, hands crossed in front of them, looking like a particularly ragged Secret Service detail. They stood as straight as they could, considering they both looked like they’d gone twelve rounds with a Demon.
    Actually, I guess they had, and not just the Demons. I’d been asleep for what had apparently been an eventful two days and they had made sure at least one of them was at my side or just outside my door the whole time. Ace had managed to piss Julie off, which I’m sure wasn’t too hard, resulting in a broken nose. I’d been the one to cause the goose-egg sized lump on Shooter’s head, which I still felt bad about. The rest of their cuts and bruises were summed up by Jenny earlier: Ace and Shooter vs. the Palace Guards.
    It got pretty chaotic when the Guards dragged Julie from that room right after she’d transported me away from the fight with Camilla. I’d remained conscious just long enough to clock one Guard on the head; a head I later learned had actually belonged to Shooter.  
    Thus the aforementioned goose-egg.
    The next thing I remembered was waking up here.
    “So what’d the King want?” Jenny asked.
    I twisted around until I could see all of them. Not wanting to give any indication of what my preference was, I told them.
    “Remember Max and his options? Well, they’re still valid. We can either stay here and work with the Guardians to bring down Camilla
or
strike out on our own. No Guardians, no protection, just the four of us. This isn’t something I can decide on my own, nor is it something we can dwell on. The King needs an answer in less than ten minutes.”
    I wasn’t surprised when Ace and Shooter gave each other a brief look and then both turned to Jenny.
    She rolled her eyes as they, in true Ace and Shooter form, left their fate up to her. I was about to join her in an epic eye roll when I stopped myself, realizing I was doing the same thing. I’d done so many things wrong and much of it had to do with making decisions for the people I loved without telling them. It was time for them to call at least this one shot.
     My anxiety grew as the minutes ticked by. What if her decision was to leave everything, this life, our friendship, me? I could face anything, fight anyone so long as I had these three people at my side. It was with a racing heart that the final minutes passed and I waited to hear what direction our lives would take next. Jenny looked first to Ace, then Shooter and finally me.
    And said,
   “Do you think the Queen will let me wear her Tiara?”

EPILOGUE

    The marble angel loomed above the grave; hard and impenetrable and very much unlike the real thing. The emerald green grass was soft under her bare feet. A gently breeze shifted her blonde curls and on that wind she barely detected the sound of footsteps. A bitter smile touched her lips as she glanced over her shoulder, she'd brought poppies; cruelly appropriate.
    "I like what you've done with the place." The intruder said as she came to stand next to her, her dark hair an almost exact opposite to the blonde curls.
    "She deserved better." 
    "Feeling guilty, Seraphina?" she asked, a look of ironic surprise on her beautiful face.
    "Yes, Camilla," she said, a single tear trailing down her face, "You wouldn't understand."
    "Well," said Camilla, looking at the grave, "One down, two to go."
    In the lavender sky, storm clouds loomed in the distance.

    Emily Miles lives in Arizona with her husband, two dogs and a homicidal cat.

Come visit me at http://eamilesblog.com or on my Facebook page, Emily Miles (author).

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