Drop Dead Demons (52 page)

omeone’s car was totaled and it wasn’t my fault.

But who’s going to believe a teenager?

“The demon did it” excuse, while more creative than “the dog ate my homework,” was still as unbelievable. And much more likely to get me sent to the psych ward. So when the fang-filled flying hellion barely missed me and dropped like a wrecking ball onto the SUV, exploding shattered bits of glass and vehicle parts in my direction, I ditched the scene pronto.

And didn’t look back. The savage grunts and metallic squeals provided a hefty deterrent. Like I needed more nightmare material. 

I shot from the trailhead’s near-empty parking lot and booked it down the road. A log-rail fence lined the thick woods, and when the demon’s furious screech closed in from behind, I cut right. One hand planted on the top rail, slick from a recent rain, I swung my legs sideways, up and over. Home free.

Until my bottom foot clipped the post, and I spun as if caught in a crocodile’s death roll.

Good news? The spongy forest floor cushioned my fall.

Bad news? Momentum slammed my torso into a tree trunk. Couldn’t breathe.

But good news again. I’d rolled under a fat, bushy pine, which, along with the fading twilight, concealed my position. I heard the beast fly overhead in pursuit, taking out a few treetops on its way by.

Yeah, that was my plan all along. Man, I’m good. Except my body. It hurt.

My pity-party lasted until I could suck in a breath, then I pushed to my feet and headed for home. Demons salivated over remote locations like this. I needed to move. 

Side aching, breath choppy, I shuffled-limped-jogged into town, made it to my neighborhood, and relaxed. Civilization. Where the demon wouldn’t follow and—

Talons clicked an ominous rhythm on pavement.

Wrong had become my default choice.

I ducked behind an oak, huddling, chilled in my fear-and-sweat soaked T-shirt.

A malicious laugh churned through the air.

“Hide and seek. My favorite. How thoughtful of you to commence a game.” A touch of crazy tinged the demon’s smooth voice. Panic twisted my heart. “Ironic, is it not, that the great Divinicus Nex cowers in fear from that which should be her fated prey? A decidedly diametric circumstance.”

What? It’s irritating when the monster hunting you has a better vocabulary than your own. Maybe it could do my eulogy? This was crazy. I’d seen demons before but they were small, ignored me, or ran away. But this one? Well, it was a different breed. A psycho on steroids, and it wanted me dead.

Its chances looked good.

With my Amazonian height and auburn curls highlighted bull’s-eye-red, all I was missing was an “Eat Me” sign taped to my back.

“You’ve got it wrong. I’m Aurora. Just some girl you don’t want kicking you back to your hellhole.” My plan to go on the offensive stemmed from my defense amounting to less than diddly and squat combined. Dusk began to devour precious daylight. My eyes ached from the frantic attempt to penetrate the emerging shadows. “Think of the embarrassment. The other demons will laugh and point, make fun of you behind your back. Your self-esteem will suffer and I’m late for dinner, so for both our sakes, I’ll let it go. Just walk away and I won’t come after you.”

I hoped I sounded confident but I think my voice cracked.

Diffused light flickered to life from the surrounding houses. The ornate streetlamps lining the empty streets of the quaint mountain town buzzed to life reflecting on the shimmering fog that slithered across the ground. A sporadic drizzle hummed against the leaves on the branches above.

“I believe you suffer confusion, Nex.” The volume of its voice lowered. Had it backed off, thinking I had something up my sleeve? “I harbor no trepidation but that you remain alive. And my immutable predilection is to deliver your corpse in a profusion of pieces.” Then that laugh.

I couldn’t comprehend much of what it said, but overall, I wasn’t getting a warm and fuzzy vibe. 

I fought a hysterical burst of laughter. I had nothing, nothing, but long legs and adrenaline. The spattering of drops above changed harmony. Feathering down through the branches, a grey mist swirled into a vague form my eyes strained to focus on. Mesmerized by its grotesque and lethal beauty, I almost waited a second too long. I ducked. With a menacing crunch, bark chunks splintered as the demon’s claws gouged into the tree where my head had been seconds before.

I launched into a graceful ninja-like front roll, then stood my ground to face the monstrous heathen, fearless in my determination to vanquish the deadly foe.

Nah, just kidding. I bolted, discretion being the better part of not getting dead.

I’d been seeing demons for a few years now. Yeah, those nasty creatures that should be in hell but instead are wreaking havoc on earth. If they were close by, sometimes I could even locate them using this weird second-sight that I wished would go Helen Keller. It was the crappiest superpower on the planet, but I’d dealt with my unfortunate situation in a mature and responsible manner. I ignored it. And so did the demons.

Until tonight when this one changed the rules and attacked while I was on my run. I’d tripped and stumbled over a rotting log which is why the SUV had taken the death blow meant for me. Wish I could say it was a deviously clever move, but the truth is I’ve got grace management issues.

A guttural hiss vibrated the leaves. Ancient wings slapped the air with fury. The scary monster noises threatened to paralyze me, so I ignored them and concentrated on running. Fast. Counting houses to keep the panic at bay.

Something darted out from my left, ground level. I swerved right, nearly falling, but kept going. I glanced back. A dog, one of those tiny, foo-foo things, scampered out on stubby legs, planted its feet, and started barking skyward. The demon diverted its sights from me and swooped down on the yappy mutt.  

Dogs aren’t my thing.

I hate dogs.

And if this one was dumb enough to sacrifice itself for me, hallelujah. I kept running.

After I reversed course.

Stupid dog.

I dived head first and scooped up the mongrel as I slid by, feeling a rush of air from the giant beast passing overhead. A reddish sheen covered my eyes. I’d cut it so close the demon’s talon sliced through my ponytail elastic and released an onslaught of thick massive curls that cascaded over my face.

On foot again, I flung back my hair and continued my retreat, the squirming dog growling protests against my chest.

“Ungrateful mutt,” I growled back.

I sensed a presence looming overhead and dodged into a driveway, happy to toss the annoying pup into a garage where it tumbled under a sedan. A blow from behind lurched my body forward. I would’ve gone down but instead found myself airborne. And gaining altitude.

Not good, because last I checked, I couldn’t fly.

Thank you, favored and cherished reader, for all your gifs, images, and hilariously supportive comments. The day we uncovered you’re enthusiastic and giggle-inducing remarks was the day we realized we would give you the best dang sequel you deserved, no matter how long and hard we had to work!

Thank you to all the people who patiently explained to Alyssa why social media was more efficient than showing up randomly at people’s house and doing face-to-face interactions to learn the latest 411. Also for making it clear that people don’t use the term 411 anymore. Duly noted, homeslice. Wait, we can’t use homeslice? Since when?!

Thank you also for attempting to keep a straight-face while Alyssa mispronounced Pinterest (it’s not Pie-Tourist, Pine-Trist, or any other way she slaughtered it) and learned how to use
The
Facebook,
The
Twitter and that stupid thing with the little red notification number that links to that blinky flag thing that links to something else that finally gets Alyssa to where she was trying to get to in the first place. You know who you are oh patient ones.

HUGE thanks to Mark. Best husband and dad ever who smiled and supported all our weird hours, nightmare inducing happy dances when we made a writing breakthrough, who also reminded us to eat, usually cooked the meal, and definitely baked delicious cookies when we sprinted face-first into writer’s block.

Thanks to Gregory and Jake, best and oddest sons/little bros who got us weight lifting so we could Chuck Norris karate chop the writer’s block. And who also executed sneak attacks when least expected upon an innocent sister to keep her on her toes for when the ninjas attack. Or the zombies. But most likely ninjas.

Thanks to The Sage, a.k.a. our editor, who moonlights as a ninja. Which is why we don’t need training to defend against ninjas because The Sage would ninja-eliminate all possible ninja threats. Obviously. The Sage is all powerful and is the embodiment of patience and wisdom, and the DIVINICUS NEX CHRONICLES’ awesomeness is due so much in part to him. Thank you so very, very much. And we’re not just saying all that so you, The Sage, ninja-dispatch any potential ninja threats.

Thanks to our fantastic interior designer, Cheryl Perez, at You’re Published, whose ninjistic skills make the inside of our book look amazing, and way more designer than the inside of our house.

And finally to our cover artist, Elena Dudina, our favorite lady from Spain, who takes our crude drawings for cover ideas and uses supernatural skills to make our fantasies come true
. No, not
those
fantasies. The ones about how our covers should look. Jeez, people.

And for those who are wondering why we’re so obsessed with ninjas, the answer is…we have no idea. Not that anyone is asking, because, honestly, who reads these acknowledgements anyway? Oh, wait. You do.

Wow. Thanks. You must be a ninja.

This mother-daughter duo were in and out of inter-dimensional paranormal prisons until they finally quit making up cover stories for secret societies and started writing novels. The Supernatural Continuum Warlords of the Supernatural Continuum Warlordian High Command had pity upon them, and instead of having them slaughtered by the slow, tortuous flesh eating underwater, earthworm squid, they transported them into a habitationally friendly dimension called OOARCHTOHUTHLAMADILFRUMP, also known as 21st Century Earth. Due to a demon infestation in their sleepy mountain California town, and a lack of sexy Hex Boys to stop them, Alyssa and Eileen were forced to relocate to Los Angeles. The Amazon best seller, DEMONS AT DEADNIGHT, is book one in the DIVINICUS NEX CHRONICLES series, and the first of their exclusive re-creations of supernatural society secrets. You can uncover more paranormal, inter-dimensional classified information at
AEKIRK.com
and
Facebook.com/AandEKirk.com
. Citizens of Earth, you are welcome.