My Big Fat Demon Slayer Wedding (15 page)

“Oh, I will be good at that,” Pirate said, falling in next to me as I started walking. “I have been all over this place. Running. Chasing rabbits. Running. Did you know there’s not a fence? I could run until I fall over. In fact, I did that. Flappy had to bring me home.”

“Which way?” I asked. It was more a question for myself than for him. The sides of the house looked clear. It would be hard to hide something on open ground. The gardens in the back, however, left all kinds of possibilities.

“Dimitri is making sure everything out front here is safe,” Pirate said, starting to head that way.

“Let’s go out back,” I said, making it several feet before Pirate realized I’d done the opposite.
 

He rushed to join me. “What is this? Some kind of super secret mission?” he asked, his stubby legs going a mile a minute as he kept up with me.
 

“I’m afraid they’re going to try and make me stay in the house,” I said to him, as I double-checked my switch stars. No telling what we’d find out there.

“I get it,” Pirate said as we neared an arched trellis that marked the entrance to the side garden. “When I want to be in, people throw me out. When I want to go out, no one ever opens the door.”

I opened my demon slayer senses as we neared the garden. I detected nothing. I focused on something new—the slight hum of my switch stars. In the past, I’d always been able to detect their subtle power. Now, I couldn’t even feel that.

What had we gotten into?

“Be careful, Pirate.”
 

He snorted. “Careful? Shit. Any creeps out here better watch out for me.”

Yes. Fear the mighty Jack Russell Terrier and the injured demon slayer.

I still had my powers. That was evident enough by the way I’d nuked my wedding gown in the sitting room. But I didn’t have my instincts, and that was dangerous.

It felt like I was going in blind.

We made it through the herb garden, and instead of heading through the roses, like last time, we veered into a covered garden. It swallowed us up. The archway didn’t end with the trellis, rather the wiry top extended over us, forming a tunnel as climbing vines grew up and over us on both sides.

“This is like a cave!” Pirate said.
 

“Have you been this way before?” I asked, noticing the spider designs on the tunnel supports.
 

What was it with this place and spiders?

“Of course I’ve been this way before,” Pirate said, every step light as he streaked out ahead of me. “I’ve been everywhere.”

I reached out to touch one of the iron spiders. It was slick and cold. “How long does this go?”
 

“I don’t know,” my dog said, turning a corner, “I usually run!”

“Pirate, wait!” I dashed after him, afraid he was about to spring a booby trap or barrel headlong into something treacherous or heck—unleash a curse.
 

Instead, he stood at the end of another tunnel that led to a large, dry pool that held the battered husks of plants. Water lilies, I assumed.

“Are there any markers in there?” I asked, approaching slowly, saving my strength.

“Lemme see,” Pirate said, scrambling up the side and basically tipping head first into the mess. I could hear him crunching around in the dead leaves before I got close enough to see him.
 

“Well?”

He leapt from pile to pile like a tiny stag. “It tickles my tummy!”

“Pirate, focus.”
 

“No crazy markers, but that lady don’t have a face.”

For a second, I thought the ghost was back, and then I saw the statue overlooking the pond. It was some kind of a water nymph, with flowing robes and hair. She held her hands out, palms cupped toward the sky. And Pirate was right—she had no face.
 

“Looks like the people in the observatory,” Pirate said, looking up at her.

“Those weren’t people.” They were very creepy statues.
 

I scanned the bottom of the pond, glad for once that Pirate had stirred things up. The bottom was slick, red tile, with no markers in sight. I walked the perimeter of the pool and checked the base and robes of the statue to make sure.
 

They were clean.

Hades. I wasn’t sure where to go next. Several paths branched off from our little clearing, like spokes on a wheel. I counted six, including the one we’d just used.
 

“What way is the best, bub?” I asked. He’d been down some of these.
 

Pirate lay down in a sunny spot. “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t like to pay attention to
where
I’m going. Spoils the surprise, you know?”

No, I didn’t. I’d had my fill of surprises lately.

“Hold on,” I said, as if my dog was going anywhere.

I opened up my demon slayer senses and reached out, hoping, praying I’d get at least some sign of where we should go.

Nothing.

Lovely. I sighed, not sure what to do. Yes, I could pick a path, any path, but we only had about two hours of daylight left. I could get some biker witches to help us look. At this point, we were all on equal footing—searching without the benefit my demonic warning system.
 

“Help me,” I said, to no one in particular.

A filmy mass hovered on the path up ahead and left. I froze, felt my heart speed up as she began to take shape—long, fluttering hair, a rounded face. It was the ghost I’d seen from the window as I was being sucked dry by poison.

She stood, watching me, wearing that same old-fashioned wedding gown.

She beckoned me with a long, bony finger.

“Oh, hell.”
 

“Ha! You cussed. This must be serious. What did you find? I’ll eat it.”

“Can it, Pirate.” Things had changed.

I didn’t know if she was evil or good. A helper, or a creature that wanted to lure me to my doom.
 

Now or never.

“Come on, Pirate,” I said, leading him toward the darkened path.

Chapter Fourteen

The dead woman had to pick the darkest, twistiest path. We followed her anyway. She wanted to show us something, and as far as I was concerned, the more I could learn about this place, the closer I was to determining what in Hades was happening to me and to my possessed wedding guest.

Of course, I have to admit it was a bit nerve wracking when the path took a sudden twist and we lost sight of the clearing behind us.

“Stick close, Pirate,” I ordered.
 

For once in his life, my dog listened. He kept his nose to the ground and ears up as we trailed the ghost deeper into the garden.

The tangling vines above us grew thicker. The air was heavier with every breath, every step. The ghost widened the distance between us. I could still see her, barely, on the shadowed path ahead. She hovered higher as the path twisted once more.

“See that?” I muttered to my dog, “she’s changing.” She was even beginning to fade.

“I still don’t see anything.” Pirate sniffed the air. “Can’t smell her, either.”

I stepped past part of the trellis that had fallen in. It had broken in several places back here. Tree branches shot through, garden debris spilled onto the path. It was as if the entire structure was under siege.

 
“Do ghosts even have smells?” I was afraid to take my eyes off her as she passed through a waterfall of wild ivy.
 

“Everything has a smell,” he said, as if it were obvious. “Like this place? It smells like rotten flowers and mucky dirt.”

I didn’t need his nose to tell me that.

“It’s actually kind of nice,” Pirate mused. The leaves to the left of me crackled as he paused to bury his nose in a pile of dead foliage. “Um hum. I’m detecting floral tones with a touch of dark oak. Dry, with a surprising boldness.”

“Focus.” I knew he was a connoisseur, but we didn’t have the time.

It worried me that the dog with such a natural affinity for specters couldn’t contact or see this one. Of course, all the ghosts Pirate had met had been benevolent.
 

I rested a hand on my switch stars, wondering if they even worked on the dead.

“Well, I think this is a very nice path,” Pirate said, as I stepped over a fallen log and he ducked under it. “This is fun, right?”

Not when the garden grew darker. My stomach grew heavy with dread. I didn’t need demon slayer mojo to tell me something was very wrong here. I could feel it in the way prey senses a predator. It was as if we were being watched, hunted. Lured closer for the kill.

There would be no one to help us out here. We were on our own.
 

The poisoned wedding dress was only the beginning. I had no doubt the next strike would be more violent.
 

I stumbled a little as I stepped into a hole. It seemed that everything I’d counted on was crumbling underneath my feet.
 

Snap out of it
. I blew out a breath. I was a demon slayer. I had to be out here. I couldn’t hide the second I was in danger. And yes, something wanted to kill me. It’s not like that was unusual.

“I’m glad they’re trying to axe me,” I muttered to myself. Better me than someone I loved.

Pirate spun, scattering leaves. “Who’s got an axe?”
 

“No one,” I said. No sense worrying the dog.

I had enough on my mind for both of us. We were nearing a third twist in the path and so far, Pirate hadn’t once tried to race out in front. Sure, I’d told him to stick close, but that never stopped him before. Pirate always had to be first.
 

My dog might not be able to sense the specter in a more traditional sense, but I had no doubt that he knew, somewhere in his doggie subconscious, that she was there.

The ghost disappeared around the bend. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my dress and followed. When I made it around the corner, I was shocked to see that she’d stopped. She was waiting for me.

Slowly, she turned to face us. Her expression was unreadable, her hair, a tangle of curls. It floated in the ether like a halo. Her body had mostly vanished. I could see straight through her to the wall of ivy on the other side.

We were at a dead end.

I suddenly felt claustrophobic, trapped. I desperately wanted to look behind me. It felt as if I had my entire back exposed, like something could sneak up at any moment. But I didn’t dare take my eyes off her.
 

“Help me.” Her words floated between us.
 

She faded into the shadows. Gone.

Pirate hit me with a wet nose to the shin. “What’s she doing now?”

The shock of it brought me back. I glanced over my shoulder at the shadowed path behind us. “She left.” As far as I knew.

I turned to see if she was above us, lingering on either side. I tried to sense her in the air. There was nothing. It was as if we’d been dropped down the rabbit hole.

“You mean she brought us to a wall?” Pirate asked, venturing out ahead to sniff.

“Yes.” She’d taken us straight into a dead end. “Maybe there’s something unusual about this spot.” There had to be a reason why we’d come here. I reached out to touch the barrier. “We might be able to slide it or push it out of the way.”

“Oooh,” Pirate warmed to the idea instantly. “Like MacGyver!”

“You know that’s not real,” I said, anxious to get out of there, knowing I couldn’t until we found whatever the ghost had been trying to show us.
 

“It’s not just a TV show. It could happen,” Pirate insisted as he tried to jam his nose underneath the wall.

“Remind me to dog-block Nick at Night,” I said, running my hands over the corners of the wall, trying to find a gate or break in the structure.

“Now that’s cruel.”

I didn’t find an opening in the traditional sense, but I managed to pull some ivy back. We weren’t looking at a solid wall, but another iron trellis. This one was welded onto the path, obstructing us.

“What do you have in your demon slayer belt?” Pirate prodded. “What we could really use is a paper clip, a rubber band, and about twenty pounds of explosives.”

“Try switch stars and magic crystals.” Actually, Pirate’s idea wasn’t half bad. “Stand back,” I told him.

I drew a switch star from my belt. The blades churned. My body tensed. “Now.” I hurled it at the uppermost joint holding the trellis.

The switch star spun on its axis, sawing straight down.

I shielded my eyes as it spit wood dust and leafy bits.

“Nice!” Pirate said, ducking behind me. “Here I thought those were strictly for killing bad guys.”

“So is that as good as MacGyver?” I asked, reaching to catch my weapon as it boomeranged back to me.

“Well, it’s no hang glider made of duct tape,” he said, while I sheathed my star.

At least he was honest.

I shoved at the trellis, forcing it back through the undergrowth on the other side, grunting as the aged metal creaked and protested. My hands grew sweaty and my entire body itched.

“You’re doing great, Lizzie!” Pirate said from behind me.

“I always wanted my own personal cheerleading squad,” I said, managing to shove it back a few feet.
 

My knees still felt a little wobbly from the wedding dress fiasco. Or maybe I was simply strung out. I gathered my strength, braced one hand on my switch stars, and ducked around the corner to see what was on the other side.

More dense garden. A couple of bees.
 

Frick.

“Maybe it’s buried,” Pirate said, inspecting the garden-turned jungle, kicking at the dirt.

In that case, we’d need Indiana Jones as well as MacGyver. For lack of a better idea, I kicked at the dirt with him. We found nothing.

I glanced up, hands on my hips. The sun was beginning to set. We didn’t have a ton of time left.

My dog brushed through the undergrowth. “Oooh…I definitely smell something dead over here.”

“No dead things,” I said, automatically, ignoring his overly dramatic sigh.

I didn’t get it. “Why would the ghost take us out here if there wasn’t anything to find?”

She’d shown up when I was being poisoned. She’d helped lead me to the abandoned observatory. I wouldn’t be shocked if that was her in the graveyard at the market.