The Last of the Demon Slayers (30 page)

The dregs! His skin flexed as it worked the poison out of him. The dregs crackled from his skin, broken to pieces. He shook them off like nettles.

Did he kill them?

Just then a half dozen griffins shot out of the dark. I recognized Kryptos with his gold and red jeweled necklace, and a pure blue griffin, probably the prince. They surrounded Dimitri and the witches, eating the dregs like candy.

Bad idea. Probably. Hell I didn’t know anymore.

But at least Dimitri had survived. My handsome griffin shrieked like an eagle and stomped at the dregs on the ground.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. Okay, so no more dregs. And no more Rachmort.

Max dragged Roxie away from Zatar, but they wouldn’t make it far.

Zatar laughed, firing vox straight into the griffins. They dodged his attack with lightening speed. For now. But it was only a matter of time.

He was toying with us. It hit me like a punch in the gut. Zatar knew he had us. He didn’t think we could win.

The winds whipped around him, burning out torches and plunging parts of the battlefield into darkness.

Black settled over us like death.

We had to axe this demon. Now.

Before he decided to wipe every one of us from the face of the planet.

The ground shook as I barreled back to the catapult. It vibrated up and down.

“Stop it, stop it,” I dove to the base of the catapult in a desperate measure to keep it in place. Zatar hadn’t moved. He was still in range. If only I could fix the rope and load it again.

Simple. I needed something simple.

My old life as a preschool teacher had revolved around simple.

Then it hit me. “Pirate!” I hollered. At the same time, I took the zombie rope from the jar at my belt. He poked his end out of the jar. “You gotta help me.” I told the quivering rope. “This will save Xavier, who sent you.” And I’d sure appreciate it too.

“Please.” I stuck him between two pieces of frayed cord. “Hold it together,” I ordered.

He bobbed his head and twirled both of his ends around the main firing rope.

The earth rattled, and I fought desperately to steady the gun. I had to hold position. We couldn’t lose our aim. We had one more shot at this. One. I strained to see the demon. We had no shot at all if Zatar so much as moved an inch.

Or if he realized we could beat him…

The demon practically dripped with satisfaction as he fired a volley of vox at the witches, scattering them.

“You think this is a game?” I grunted, dragging the oversized sling shot into position between Creely’s hastily drawn lines.

Zombie rope twirled part of an end around to see me. “Eyes on the catapult,” I told him.

Flappy cruised to a stop, his wings sending dirt flying into my face as Pirate leapt off. “Get behind me.”

I loaded the anti-demonic cannonball. Would it be enough? It had to work. We weren’t getting a second chance.

Hellfire. I was a demon slayer. I was part angel.

I laid both hands on the demon killer and willed my power into it. I focused my strength, my energy, my goodness. It radiated from my core, down my arms, into my fingertips until the cannon charge glowed with it.

It gleamed strong and white, a beacon of truth. A weapon that would set us free.

Brilliance flowed through me. It filled me up and made me whole. I’d never felt anything like it.

We needed to fire.

“Pirate,” I hollered. I couldn’t pull the lever on the gun. I didn’t know what would happen if I let go of the cannon shot.

“Pirate, I need you to pull the lever,” I pointed to the wooden handle. “Use your mouth. Get your teeth around it.”

“Yes! It’s rescue dog to the rescue.” Pirate scrambled up the base of the firing mechanism and fell off as another shock rattled the earth.

“Go,” I insisted, stomach sinking when I realized Pirate was too short.

“Flappy!” Pirate danced underneath our salvation. “Flappy, pull the lever!”

Flappy stared at him, tongue lolling.

“Pull Flappy!” I ordered as Pirate dashed behind the dragon and herded him toward the catapult. Flappy turned to face Pirate, his long spiked tail whooshing for the lever, threatening to flatten the cannon – and me.

He was too big, too close. He was going to wreck the entire thing.

“Sit, Flappy!” I hollered.

The dragon wound his bottom around.

“Sit!”

He thundered down onto the lever.

Chapter Twenty-three

Wood crackled and split. Flappy’s butt broke the lever and smashed half the catapult into the ground – but not before it released the portal charm.

“Demon out!” My voice came like a terrible thunder from the heavens. I heard my words and over that, my words commanding in a language I’d never heard. It shook the ground.

As Evie’s grand invention hurtled through the air, I pictured the barren wastelands of hell. I fixed my mind on an icy place devoid of love, warmth or affection. A glacial prison in an apocalyptic underworld, where Zatar would be trapped in darkness, chained in despair, bound to that place for eternity.

The missile scored a direct hit to Zatar’s heart.

The demon reared back, his lizard’s body heaving as the glorious cannon shot launched him into the air. The backlash hit me with hurricane force. I tumbled backward into the dragon, my eyes forced shut by the dirt and debris.

Ice.

Hell.

Damnation.

I drilled the words into my mind, forced them into existence.

“Squark!” Flappy shielded me and I clung to his scaly body, fighting to rivet my mind, my shock and my utter terror on sending the hell spawn back where he came from.

I saw him in my mind’s eye, hurtling across the field and into a gleaming silver portal. I watched him falter, I relished the surprise and fear in his eyes as he fell backward, down, down, down off a sheer cliff, through entire dimensions into an icy vault.

He shattered onto the floor of it, breaking into a million shards.

I sealed him in. Melted it closed. Chained the vault and buried him alive so that no one – mortal or immortal – would ever be able to rouse Zatar again.

And when I was done, I lay against the dragon and simply breathed. There was nothing but the rise and fall of my chest, the air as it rasped dry against the back of my throat. I’d given everything I could and now I simply needed to be.

Until a dog licked the side of my face. “Lizzie!” And danced on my chest. “Lizzie?” Pirate’s paws were like tiny pistons on my stomach. “Wake up, Lizzie. Did you see it?”

I reached for him, finding his knobby head before I’d even bothered to open my eyes.

Pirate stood over me, happier than if he’d scored a barrel full of bacon. “Flappy sat!”

“Yeah, buddy. I saw it.” I tested my body as I rose to a sit. The air crackled with energy. I could taste the metallic tang. I brought shaking fingertips to my cheek. I truly was part angel.

“Flappy did a trick! You saw it?” He spun around as Dimitri reached down for me. “Did you see it?”

Dimitri, human again, grinned. Dirt smeared his face and chest, his hair stood out in spikes and he looked ready to fall over sideways. “It was amazing,” he said, lifting me up, holding me against him.

I buried my face against Dimitri’s warm chest. “Are you okay?”

He nuzzled against me. “As soon as Zatar fell through the portal, the dregs left my body,” he murmured, as if he knew what I was thinking. “I could feel them dissolve.”

“You might want to put some drawers on, buddy,” Grandma said behind him.

Yes, well he had managed to find the orange towel we’d used as a demon target. It was wrapped around his very fine waist.

The rest of the griffins weren’t so modest. “Did you see me?” Kryptos demanded. His olive skin glistened with perspiration, catching bits of sun as it rose over the horizon. “I destroyed many of your dregs. I am the most worthy.”

I snuck a glance. I admit it. And the man had assets.

“Dyonne would be lucky to have you court her,” I told him.

He gave a small bow.

Turns out that was the wrong thing to say because then I had five more hot naked griffins crowding us.

“I caught seven in the air,” Prince Thereos declared. “I am the most worthy!”

A griffin who reminded me a lot of Antonio Banderas pushed his way to the front. “Did you see me?”

Er, I wasn’t sure I felt comfortable looking anymore. Yes, it was an embarrassment of riches, like being mobbed by Chippendales, but this was something for Dianna and Dyonne to sort out – I only had eyes for their brother.

Dimitri turned to the griffins. “You came when I called and fought admirably. Now I have one more request,” he said, as the witches started wolf whistling. “Can you give me a minute?”

They backed off – for now. Knowing these guys, they were counting to sixty.

Dimitri turned to me, mouth quirked. “I just have one question for you.”

“Yes?” I asked, perfectly content to run a finger down his chest.

His arms tightened around me. “How about that date?”

***

      
I left Dimitri with the griffins. It seemed they had much to discuss. I just hoped they’d take time out soon to find some clothes. Some of the witches were starting to take second, third and fourth glances.

Neal didn’t even blink. “This is how it was in the old days. We don’t need clothes to define us.”

      
“Right-o.” I patted him on the back and moved on, knowing there were some things I could never change, namely Grandma, Neal and anybody who had ever hopped on a Harley and decided to follow me anywhere.

      
“Lizzie,” he called after me, purple sunglasses still on his head, “I found your dad asleep next to the picnic table.”

Oh geez. “Is he okay?” I asked, trying to see.

“He’s fine.” Neal patted my arm. “I wanted to tell you I just helped him to his bus. It’s the green one. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks,” I said, appreciation welling up inside me, bordering on affection. I stamped that last part down, even as I closed a hand over his. “I appreciate it. And everything, Neal.”

He gave a small smile and a shrug.

      
Roxie lay on the ground, still coming around. She sat up on her good elbow, groggy.

“I’ve got you.” Max knelt over her, embracing her as if she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen, which was another first for Max. She ran her fingers along his jaw.

“You saved me,” she murmured, tears in her eyes. “Nobody saves a slayer.”

      
Max drew her into his arms. “I like to do things differently.”

He kissed her long and hard. I’d never known the hunter could embrace anything other than the idea of death.
      

      
She pulled away, her lips swollen. “I still hate you for what you did at the Tic-Tac Club.”

      
“I know,” Max thundered, moving in for more.

      
Okay. I turned my back on them. We’d consider her cured of the dreg. I let out a deep breath. That meant Zatar’s awful tag-you’re-it way of killing slayers was finally broken.

      
As for Max and Roxie? They’d have to figure out anything else on their own.

***

      
Neal was wrong. Dad wasn’t on the green bus. He stood next to it. He seemed twenty years younger than when I’d first seen him — his health restored, his shoulders squared. He was whole and healthy, grinning from ear to ear with life. I could tell right away he was cured.

      
“Dad!” I launched myself into his arms and he spun me around like I was a little girl again.

      
He winked and set me down. “You did it, Lizzie.”

      
He showed me his hands. They were free of the demon’s mark. He’d chosen the light.

      
“Did you see my angelic powers?” I asked, still not quite believing it.

“Like father, like daughter.”

If I smiled any wider my face was going to break. “It was you too, Dad. We did this together.”

      
He laughed and borrowed one from me, “A father-daughter kick-butt team.”

      
Dad grew serious. “Thank you, Lizzie,” he said, his eyes traveling over me as if he were trying to capture the memory. “I won’t forget this.”

      
“Are you kidding?” I was glad to help him. I’d found my father, that piece of me that had been missing my entire life. This was just the beginning. I had questions about him, his life, angels, you name it. I couldn’t wait to get to know him. “You’ll fit right in with the Red Skulls,” I said, “not that you need to travel everywhere with us.” He had a life. “Besides, New Jersey isn’t that far.” It was the same country. “You could visit.” I could spend weekends in California. We had the fairy paths. Or Dimitri and I could make the journeys together – at griffin speed. It wouldn’t be quite as fast, but we weren’t in a hurry. I could savor this time, this life, with both Dimitri and my Dad.

      
We’d be one big, happy family.

      
Dad hovered on the edge of my emotional bubble. “The thing is, Lizzie,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “I have a life.”

      
Didn’t I know it. “I can’t wait to hear about your life. I’ve never known an angel.”

      
“I’m not sure I want to be an angel,” he said, heading back for the green bus, taking the steps two at a time. He emerged with a rainbow knapsack, already packed, courtesy of Neal, no doubt.

      
Wait. “How could you
not
want to be an angel?” It was his chance to do everything right. He could be the embodiment of love, order, all that was good and true and whole.

      
Dad hesitated in front of me. “I gave that up, Lizzie. It’s not me.” He gave the same look my equestrian trainer used to give me after practice:
Do I really have to tell you that you stink?
“Neither is being a dad.”

      
Fear nibbled through me. “You can learn,” I said with forced optimism.