A Tale of Two Demon Slayers (13 page)

“Oh Zeus.” Diana rubbed him along the snout as he turned his head into her and snuggled her like a cream puff. “He just likes to be dramatic.”

Oh my. As if we didn’t have enough drama queens. Biker witches, Harleys and now a crazy horse.

But that wasn’t the reason I came out to see Diana.

“I have something of yours,” I said, tipping the velvet bag. Out slipped an intricately woven hairpin. At its tip, a gold griffin snarled, its orange eyes flashing despite the dusky light in the stable.

Dimitri had given it to me shortly before we faced the
demon who had cursed Diana and Dyonne. But it had always been Diana’s.

She gasped. “Lizzie! I thought I’d lost this.”

“Dimitri had it,” I said. “He gave it to me for safekeeping.”

“My mother had this made for me before she died. There’s only one other, and that belongs to Dyonne. My mother said these jewels would remind us of our family and of everything we’ve worked so hard to achieve.”

I watched her slip it into her hair. If possible, the griffin eyes sparked even brighter. “Is it magic?” I asked.

“No,” she said, “but it is a most cherished gift.”

“It’s beautiful. Although I have to say, reminders of your clan and your heritage are all over this place, from the mosaics at the entrance to the family villa to the Helios crest carved into the stable door.”

Diana gave a wry grin. “I know.” She shook her head, her playfulness dissolving. “It makes it even harder to forget the fact that we’re failing.”

“It’s only been a few days,” I said, knowing at the same time that the sisters should have progressed further. They
should
have been gaining strength.

Diana rubbed Zeus, her eyes filling with tears. “I don’t know what to do.” She shook her head, “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Practice,” I said softly.

She closed her eyes, forcing the tears back. She brought a hand up to the coral necklace at her throat. “We shouldn’t need this much practice. The magic is already in us. The stones just help us draw it out. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Dimitri told me that he brought you to the altar at the Callidora.”

“Where the women of your family made the final sacrifice.”

“There are generations of power stuck in that altar, and we can’t get it out. That’s how I feel. I have all of this power in me and I just can’t get it out. I don’t know what I have to do to unlock it. And every minute I wait, the wards on this estate grow weaker.”

I tried to hide my reaction.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I know about the wards. Talos tries to protect us, but I know what’s at stake. That’s why I let him sneak away with my Skye stone.”

“You trust him?” I asked.

“He’s sworn to protect this estate and everyone on it. Griffin pledges are unbreakable.” She gave a small smile. “Just as I pledged to find my power again.”

My heart ached for her. “I understand exactly how you feel.” To sense greatness, to know it was within your grasp, and to be unable to make that final move to seize it, to make it your own.

“We’ll do it, Diana. We’ll get you there.”

I didn’t know exactly how—for her or for myself. But I knew we had to try.

The three of us hit the training grounds early, while Talos patrolled.

Diana drew a fresh line in the rocky path. “Talos wants us to try something simpler today,” she said, regret flashing across her features.

“Oh yeah?” I said, in attempt to lighten the mood. I’d learned time and again how important it is to relax and let instinct take over.

“We’re going to summon one cloud and that’s it,” Dyonne said, dejected as she surveyed a perfect sky.

“Ready?” Dyonne had her stone out. It was wider than Diana’s, flatter.

Together, they began drawing patterns in the sky above us. At least I hoped that’s what they were doing. I shaded my eyes with my hand and waited for the cloud.

It never came.

“This is none of my business”—I was still trying to figure out my own powers—“but what I do is locate my power like this spark of energy in my mind. I know exactly where it is. Then I aim my whole self on it while I try to do what I need to do.”

Dyonne lowered her hands. “What? Like focusing your energy?”

“Exactly.”

They spent the rest of the day holding their stones out in front of them, sweat beading their foreheads, desperate for a wisp of a cloud.

But still nothing came.

They worked so hard, and they supported each other. I wished I could do something, anything, to help them.

I tried to act like this was a minor setback, but I was really worried.

Diana and Dyonne should have been growing stronger since Dimitri had saved them. Something was very wrong. I understood their fears. It was killing me to watch them weaken, and I hadn’t nursed them for months, seen their struggle from day one.

“I give up.” Diana sunk down onto the red soil, the Skye stone tumbling from her hands. “Don’t you see?” Tears filled her eyes. “This isn’t going to happen.”

“It has to happen.” And not just because I could lose a part of myself if they failed. “This is what you were meant to do.”

“We were meant to die, Lizzie,” she said, her fingers digging into the earth.

“But you didn’t.” I crouched down next to her. “Look at me. This is your destiny. It’s not easy and it’s not pretty, but this is where you are supposed to be. You can’t control the circumstances that brought you here, but you can decide to do your best. Right here. Right now.”

Diana swallowed. “Okay.”

I didn’t know if she believed me or not. Heck, I didn’t know what I was doing either. All I knew is that we could not fail.

The earth rumbled as hot flares shot out from the direction of the villa.

I scrambled to my feet. “What the—?”

Diana’s eyes widened. “It’s the attack alarm. We have to go!”

“To the house!” Dyonne streaked past us and somehow managed to scoop up Pirate on the first try. His stubby legs flailed in midair, still running.

“Who’s attacking?” I asked, searching all around as Diana and I ran for the house. I didn’t see anything. Of course, that didn’t mean something wasn’t about to try and eat us alive. After being in the magical world for almost a month, I knew how these things worked.

And it worried me to no end that I’d lost the ability to sense the woman who’d stolen my magic.

I stubbed my toe on a rock as I looked to the sky. At least it was still blue. I almost hoped it was the imps again. It’s not that I wanted to face down monsters hurling curses, but it was better than another green sky.

I steeled myself. If somebody felt confident enough to strike, I was willing to bet they had the upper hand.

Yeah, well too bad for them I was used to fighting on the fly.

Talos streaked across the sky from the direction of the
forest. Dimitri soared over the hills beyond the gardens. The griffins dove toward the main villa like giant eagles. As we rounded the corner of the house, I could see Amara out in front, waving her arms over her head. She bent and set off another round of flares. They burst from the mouths of the stone lions flanking the stairs to the porch.

“Quickly!” Amara dashed for us, her white dress plastered to her legs as she ran. “An attack is coming! Get in the house. Arm yourselves and stay down!”

“Already done,” I said, one hand on my switch stars as I reached her. “What’s coming?” I hadn’t seen anything. My radar wasn’t going off.

She shook her head, swallowing hard. “I don’t know what’s after us. But we’re about to be invaded.” Her eyes bugged out. “Chaos shall rain down!”

Okay, so having a psychic around could be handy—as well as scary.

“When?” Dyonne demanded as Pirate tried to bury himself in the crook of her arm.

“Soon!” Amara urged us toward the stone lions.

“No more fireworks!” Pirate pleaded. He was a brave dog, but everybody has a limit.

Amara took the porch stairs two at a time. The front entrance was stacked with bronze swords and battle-axes. “The wards in the house should protect you,” she said, opening the door to the villa. “But grab a weapon anyway.”

Good. Backup weapons. I liked how she thought.

“I’ll fight,” I said, handing Dyonne a sword as she passed.

“No,” Amara snapped. “I have it covered.” She unhooked her chunky gold necklace and shoved it at me before starting in on the thin gold belt at her waist.

She had to be kidding. “Why? Because you don’t want a demon slayer on your side?” I hooked her necklace over the front doorknob. It was time to let go of petty differences and fight the true enemy.

Her eyes blazed at the challenge. “We don’t know what’s coming. I’ve fought for this house before.” She tossed her gold belt off the porch. “I will always fight for it, even if it seems hopeless.”

“Ever faced a demon?”

“Ever fought with a griffin?” She struggled as her side zipper caught on her barely there pink bra.

Oh please. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“We’re fast,” she said, as if I’d never seen a griffin attack. “We’re everywhere when we fight and I’m not about to have you or any other inexperienced yahoo shoot one of us in the back.”

“For Pete’s sake, if chaos is going to rain down from the sky, you flying lions needed all the help you can get.”

The side of her mouth quirked. “Flying lions?” That’s when Amara the arrogant Greek actually smiled at me. “You don’t know anything, Lizzie.”

“I’m not the one stripping on the front porch.”

She groaned as she pulled a bronze sword from her scabbard. “Here, use this. It’s the lightest one I have.”

“I’ll stick with these,” I said, patting the switch stars at my belt.

She watched as they began to respond to my touch, spinning and throwing off sparks.

“They’re pink.”

“So’s your bra.”

She barked out a laugh. “Yes, well let’s hope I don’t have to use it as a weapon.”

Talos landed hard on the lawn like an immense cat. He folded his wings and crouched in attack mode, watching the road. Dyonne and Diana had retreated into the house. I felt bad for them. But at least they knew their magic, in its present state, would do them no good in a fight. And poor Pirate. At least he’d calm down now that Amara had stopped shooting off flares.

Where was Dimitri? I scanned the sky. It was as if he’d disappeared.

He’d better not be doing anything heroic
.

Dimitri liked to strike out in his own. At best it was dangerous, and at worst—well, last month it had almost gotten him killed.

Amara’s fingers turned white as she battled with her zipper. She lost her grip. “Gods! I hate women’s fashion.”

I was about to agree when I heard the most beautiful sound in the world—the symphonic roar of dozens upon dozens of Harley motorcycles.

“Brace yourselves!” Amara abandoned her zipper and went for her bronze sword. “It’s the sound from my vision!”

“Grandma!”

“Wait, stop!” Amara grabbed for me as I dashed past her onto the lawn. Talos tried to block me, but I dodged him too.

What was it with these Dominos griffins?

I sprinted down the driveway, well aware the Red Skulls could be driving into an ambush, but I didn’t get
far. The biker witches rumbled straight for me, a wave of chrome and leather with Grandma in the lead.

They whooped and hollered, and a second before I became a human speed bump, they split and thundered past on both sides, popping wheelies, leaving choking dust in their wake.

Yeah, well we had an emergency here.

But even though I was frustrated, tired and dusty, I couldn’t help giving them a big thumbs-up. Hell’s bells, I was glad to see them. I needed something I could count on.

The Red Skulls slowed and came to a grinding stop on the road ahead of me, even more rough-and-tumble against the elegant white walls of the villa rising behind them. I could still feel the heat from their engines. A month ago, if you’d told me this motley gang of biker witches would be the one constant in my life, I’d have laughed. Hard.

They looked so out of place in their biker boots and dorags, a small army of chrome on this country load lined with cypress trees and bathed in tradition. Right now, they were the most beautiful sight in the world. I received at least a dozen high fives and pats on the back as I made my way over to Grandma.

“You don’t know how glad I am to see you,” I hollered over the engines as she strangled me in a sideways hug. “We’re in trouble.” In fact, I wasn’t sure where to start—with my problems or the fact that the wards on this place could go down any minute.

She slapped a hand glittering with silver rings over her chest. “Of course you’re in trouble,” she said, her gravelly voice full of humor.

This was no time for jokes. “Grandma, there’s something after me.”

She tilted up her dusty riding glasses. “No kidding.” She held out her arm. “Like my new tattoo?” Red skin puffed at her wrist where she’d had her half brother Phil’s name and date of death inscribed. Fairy wings flanked the Old English script.

“Grandma, listen to me.”

“I just did. Something is trying to kill you. Join the club.” She pulled off her black leather riding gloves. “We got motorcycles.” She and the bikers around her let out belly laughs.

“Sure. Fine. I’m glad this is amusing to you. But I’ve got some dark-haired woman attacking me, stealing from me, supposedly going to kill me, and I don’t even know what she is!”

Grandma sobered, but not before I caught a slight eye roll. “Okay, we’ll powwow as soon as I get the gang settled.” She stuffed her riding gloves into her back pocket. “Oh, and your trainer will be here tomorrow.”

“Thank goodness.” The sooner I learned how to use all of my powers, the better.

Grandma looked past me and raised an eyebrow. “Well don’t he look madder than a boar in a peach orchard.”

“What?” I turned to see Dimitri hiking toward us, with a griffin and a frantic Amara in hot pursuit. Dimitri must have shifted back at the house. He was barefoot and buttoning a pair of jeans as he went.

No wonder griffins preferred warm climates. They had a hard time keeping their clothes on. Normally, I wouldn’t have minded.

“Don’t move, Lizzie! We’re coming.” Amara kept a tight hold on her sword. “This is a disaster,” she wailed.

I walked out to meet them, keeping a choke hold on my control. “This is not a disaster. This is
my
family.”

Dimitri stood between the griffins and the bikers, fuming. “Everyone calm down,” he ordered.

“They’re here!” Pirate dashed past Dimitri, his paws barely touching the ground. “And they brought beef jerky!”

With the road blocked, the bikers began shutting down their rides.

Amara’s perfect brows knit as she looked over my shoulder. “Those people are with you?”

“Yes,” I said, as if everybody had biker witch relatives.

“Well, they look nice enough,” she said, not fooling anybody.

But I had bigger problems than Amara. Half the Red Skulls had killed their engines, and it wasn’t because Talos was being a big, bad griffin. The witches were doing it so they could start digging in their saddlebags for who knew what kind of magic spells.

Amara’s brother could find himself floating home to Rhodes.

Ant Eater leaned back on her bike, her curly gray hair peeking out from underneath a do-rag covered in glittering red skulls. “Who’s the chippie?”

Amara stared at the witches decked out in Harley gear, tank tops and American flags. “Where are you people from?”

A skinny witch in pink leather pants and a leopardprint shirt shrugged and pulled a cigarette out of her
cleavage. She held it between two fingers. “We’re from that part of the South where sushi’s still called bait.”

Amara stared as the witch patted her blonde bouffant hair and accepted a light from a Harley-riding fairy who looked a lot like Danny DeVito.

“You’re more than welcome here,” Dimitri said to the witches. His voice didn’t even hold a trace of irony. He was either brave or crazy. “Come, we’ll take you back to the house.”

The Red Skulls idled up the drive as we walked with them. Pirate was on his back in Sidecar Bob’s lap, feasting on Cheetos and beef jerky, undoing about a year’s worth of Healthy Lite dog chow.

Grandma cursed under her breath as she shut down her bike on Dimitri’s perfect lawn.

“I don’t know Lizzie,” she said to me under her breath. “I’m not saying we need to be living in high cotton, but I’m not so sure I want to stay here. With him.” She nodded over at Dimitri, who was sending Talos out on another mission from the look of it.

Talos shook his large eagle head, but Dimitri was insisting.

I had to admit that these people, this estate, everything here was different from what I was used to as well. But still, we grow, we change.

“We can fit in here,” I told Grandma. “Just try. For me.”

“Maybe this’ll help.” She pulled a Smuckers jar from her saddlebag.

The jam inside was long gone, replaced with Grandma’s brand of magic. This recycled jar held a swirling green mass and…

“Is that a squirrel tail?”

She held the jar up to the light, revealing yellow flecks in the goo. “Let’s just say my ultimate Southern cocktail should liven things up a bit.”

“No, Grandma,” I warned, giving her the stink eye until she sighed and tucked the jar inside a black leather-fringed saddlebag. “I’ve done a pretty good job fitting in around here and you can too.”

“I won’t spell him,” she said. “Yet,” she added under her breath. “But I ain’t staying in no namby-pamby villa.”

“Yeah.” Ant Eater slapped Grandma on the shoulder. “Any place where you can’t ride a bike up the stairs—”

“Or have pickled-egg fights,” Frieda added.

“Or even let the band practice,” Sid the fairy said, glitter showering his shoulders.

“
You
have a band?” Leave it to the fairy to have musical ambitions. “Never mind.” I had to figure out a way to keep them from tearing up the place. “Grandma…” I began.

Dimitri stepped between us. “It’s okay, Lizzie.” He reached down for Grandma, but then thought better of it. “It’s not as if we have thirty-eight extra bedrooms anyway.”

“Thirty-seven,” Ant Eater said, making eyes at the fairy.

Oh please.

“We’ll find you a spot,” Dimitri said, ushering them into the house. “Now follow me if you want to eat.”

That did it. The biker witches paraded into the villa with the couth of a gaggle of five-year-olds on a field trip. I almost wished Dimitri had thrown them a picnic outside. Ant Eater tested out the banister on the main staircase and I cringed. Those snarling griffins carved into
the ends had withstood decades of Dimitri’s family’s trauma. But surviving Ant Eater would be another challenge entirely.

“Stay away,” I told her, just as Frieda bumped a pink leather-clad hip against the potted fig by the doorway, sending it crashing to the floor.

Dimitri kissed me on the top of the head. “I love you,” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear.

“Why?” I asked him. We’d only known each other for a few months. I had a longer relationship with my sneakers, and now my whacked-out family was about to destroy the home he’d fought so hard to preserve.

He was a sacrificing individual, loyal to a fault. So far, I’d tainted his royal blood, replaced his steadfast griffin fiancée, whose family could no doubt help him through this crisis better than I could, and now Battina the witch was sliding down the banister of the grand staircase.

“Stop! Watch the—!” Too late. My head pounded as the moment seemed to freeze in time. Battina decapitated an antique griffin hand-carved by none other than Sir Nikkos Kallinikos. “Oh my God.” I buried my face in my hands. “Dimitri, I—”

“We’ll fix it,” he said, leading me and my nutso family deeper into his home. He deposited them in the dining room, where they feasted on MoonPies, Mountain Dew and pork rinds. Don’t ask me where Dimitri found it all.