I Brake for Biker Witches (3 page)

"Son of a—" I took off after it, with Scarlet right behind.

She hit me with a blast of power as we dashed headlong for the runaway gateway to God-knew-what. I felt it like an electric punch to the back. Coins popped underfoot. I grabbed for the railing as she tried to throw me down the stairs.
 

"Duck!" I screamed at Phil, who hit the deck as it zoomed past him.

"Red Skulls! Defensive positions." Grandma hollered from behind him, her voice clear above the fray.
 

Witches dove under tables and behind the bar as the portal swooped low, zapping two outlaws, the stereo system and a cowboy strumming a guitar.

Phil was still on the floor. I dropped to my knees next to him. "What do we do?"

He swung a fist straight through me and into Scarlet. She went down in a heap. He sat up, breathing hard, grey hair wild. "I'd never hit a lady, but she was about to hex you."

"She's not a lady anymore," I said, urging him behind the nearest overturned table. "I don't know what she is anymore."

The portal zipped over the bar, shattering glasses and exploding the long gold mirror. A ghostly piano player plopped down on the bench and began playing the
Wabash Cannonball
as cowboys and outlaws went after the portal, guns blazing.

"Fire in the hole!" Grandma hollered as a wave of spell jars blasted the portal. It shimmered, turning purple and then back to blue.

Our biker witch reinforcements poured into the bar, led by Pirate.

"Let 'er rip!" Grandma hollered. This time, the portal shook under the onslaught.
 

Grandma dove behind our table. "Lizzie, we need one last blast of juice," she said, digging a jar out of her pack as the piano banged and witches scrambled to re-load.
 

"You ready?" she asked as I drew a switch star and focused all my energy, all my love, all my desire on blasting that deadly gate to hell where it belonged.

"Ready."

She gripped my shoulder. "Hold back until I tell you," she said, standing up. "And…fire!" She threw the jar like Roberto Clemente.
 

The portal shot sparks as each spell slammed into it.

"Go, Lizzie!" I threw and as the portal turned purple, my switch star tore a hole straight through it.

The biker witches and the outlaws cheered as it folded in on itself, sparking and hissing. It collapsed in on its own energy until it disappeared with a loud crack, sucked back to wherever it came.
 

I knelt on the floor, sweating as Phil and I stared at each other wide eyed.
 

"I'd say we did it," he said, in the understatement of the year.

I forgot and tried to embrace him. Naturally, I went straight through. "Damn it." The air was warm and smelled like bubblegum, which made me smile.

"Don't curse," he said, grinning as wide as I was.

Yeah, well I was hanging around the biker witches too much.
 

"Did we lose any?" Grandma asked, finger jabbing as she counted the witches. She exhaled. "We didn't lose anybody."

Just a few outlaws and the blackjack dealer. I clapped her on the shoulder, as relieved as she was. We always seemed to lose somebody.

The biker witches were dusting off, hugging, sharing whiskey bottles and greeting the reinforcements. It was a reunion all over again.

"Wait." I scanned the bar. "Where's Scarlet?"

She stood at the bottom of the stairs, Phil's coins sizzling on her ghostly flesh, a death spell in each hand.

I approached her slowly, one hand on my switch stars. But much of the fight had already gone out of her.

She stood, bewildered. "What happened to me?" she asked, almost to herself. "What did I do?"

"It's okay," I said, stopping a few feet away. "You're back with us now." I imagined a shimmering white tunnel above her head. I could feel it, open and ready.
 

"But," she stared at the path above her, torn.

"Go, Scarlet." She deserved warmth. She deserved peace. "Go to the light."

Fear glanced across her features, replaced with a firm resolve. She nodded to me, accepting at last. "Thanks, Lizzie."

"I'll never forget what you did for me," I said.

She smiled faintly and then tilted her face toward the light.

Scarlet rose up, becoming one with it, and at that moment, I too felt peaceful.

The bar had gone quiet as the biker witches, both alive and dead, stood watching.
 

"You should go too," I said to the rest of the ghosts.
 

They murmured among themselves, not moving. Carl shook his head slowly.

He walked up to me, the steel chains of his biker boots clinking with every step. "I wasn't lying when I said you needed us, Lizzie." He stopped, studying me. "There's a revolution brewing in hell."

"I know." I was going to have to face it. "But it's not your war."

He seemed surprised at that. "Of course it is. When each of us died, we were given a choice. Go to the light or wait to make a difference."

I stood, not sure what to say, as I looked out on the bar full of ghostly biker witches.
 

"We're your last line of defense," Carl continued, "and I don't mind saying, I think you're going to need our help."

"From ghost bikers?" I was still trying to wrap my head around it.

Grandma chuckled. "Is there any better kind?"

"What about them?" I asked, as a table full of cowboys broke out into an off-key rendition of
The Yellow Rose of Texas.

One who could definitely use a shower and a shave guffawed. "Peace and light ain't what we're after."

Obviously. "Then what are the rest of you waiting for?"

"A good fight," said his buddy. The men at the table cheered and stomped their boots against the dusty wood floor.
 

Yeah, well I could probably arrange that.

A tussle broke out between the outlaws at the bar. "We'll just have a little fun here until you need us." Carl grinned as Betty handed him a shot.

"How will I know how to find you?" I looked out at the motley crew of outlaws and bikers. It wasn't like we'd be fighting demons in the middle of the desert.

"You'll find us," he said, toasting me before downing his whiskey. "You might not need us right away. But when the time comes, we'll be here."

"I'm glad," I said, and heaven help me—I was.

-
THE END-

COMPLETE BOOKLIST

Most of the following Angie Fox titles are also available in print format from Barnes & Noble.

THE BIKER WITCHES/ACCIDENTAL DEMON SLAYER SERIES:

The Accidental Demon Slayer
- FREE right now on Barnes & Noble!

The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers

A Tale of Two Demon Slayers

The Last of the Demon Slayers

I Brake for Biker Witches - novella

My Big Fat Demon Slayer Wedding

Beverly Hills Demon Slayer - coming spring 2014!

THE MONSTER MASH SERIES:

Immortally Yours

Immortally Embraced

Immortally Ever After

SHORT STORIES:

Gentlemen Prefer Voodoo

Love Bites

Murder on Mysteria Lane (from
The Real Werewives of Vampire County
anthology)

What Slays in Vegas (from the
So I Married a Demon Slayer
anthology)

Angie Fox is the
New York Times
bestselling author of several books about vampires, werewolves and things that go bump in the night. She claims that researching her stories can be just as much fun as writing them. In the name of fact-finding, Angie has ridden with Harley biker gangs, explored the tunnels underneath Hoover Dam and found an interesting recipe for Mamma Coalpot's Southern Skunk Surprise (she's still trying to get her courage up to try it).

Angie earned a Journalism degree from the University of Missouri. During that time, she also skipped class for an entire week so she could read Anne Rice's vampire series straight through. Angie has always loved books and is shocked, honored and tickled pink that she now gets to write books for a living. Although, she did skip writing for a few weeks last year so she could read Lynsay Sands Argeneau vampire series straight through.
 

Angie makes her home in St. Louis, Missouri with a football-addicted husband, two kids, and Moxie the dog (who so far, doesn't talk…at least not in real sentences).

If you are interested in receiving emails when Angie releases new books, please sign up by visiting her website and clicking the "contact" tab. The new release alerts sign up is on the right side of the page
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Copyright Angie Fox 2013

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or store in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of Angie Fox.