The Last of the Demon Slayers (27 page)

“Sexist much?”

“Of course not.”

He shot me a superior look. “I don’t know what assumptions you made while we were in Greece, but if you think I’m leader of our clan, you’re dead wrong. In griffin society, power is passed down through the females. They hold our magic. They chart a clan’s destiny. And they rule.”

“Get out.” It was almost too much to absorb. “They still need you, though.” Even if it was just to have
somebody
to rule. Dimitri’s clan had nearly died out. It was down to him and his two sisters.

“They need me to sort out their love lives,” he groused. The corners of his mouth tipped up. “You should see yourself right now.”

Gaping, no doubt. “Explain, please.”

“I’m the last of the Helios clan besides my sisters, right? So I’m the only one available to meet with suitors.”

“Suitors?” I repeated. “As in boyfriends?”

“Yes. A formality – and a pain in the butt. I understand that after a lifetime under a demon’s curse, my sisters are going to want to go out and have some fun. That is acceptable. But these potential mates are about to drive me off a cliff.”

Off a cliff? Not too tragic for a griffin. He’d just shift and fly away.

“What? Are these guys not good enough?” Dimitri’s sisters were smart and beautiful and independent – the whole package.

“Alexandro that you met earlier tonight? He breeds horses.”

“Diana would love that.”

“He paints their hooves and gives them horsey manicures.”

“Diana would really love that.”

Dimitri wasn’t amused. “He and his brother Nicoli used to slip mermaids into the family pool. They hung out with the priests of Bacchus. And now they want to date my sisters?”

“What about the guy out in the desert?”

Dimitri sighed. “Kryptos is an admirer of Dyonne’s. He’s convinced he can win her over by replacing the family arsenal.”

“Girls do like shiny things.” Although if I saw Kryptos again, I might tell him to focus on jewelry.

“Do not let him hear you say that or I’ll never get rid of him.”

He stood tall, the moonlight playing off his hardened features. “Griffin society is small. Unfortunately not so small that I don’t have a battalion of horny goats following me.” He sighed. “I suppose it has to be done.”

“We’re talking about dating, right?”

He nodded, hand to his head.

“I don’t know. It sounds like fun to me.” He needed to lighten up. “It’s not like your sisters have to marry any of these guys,” I said. “Right?”

“They will eventually,” he said with such brotherly despair that I smiled despite myself.

“I think it’s sweet that these guys are willing to travel halfway around the world to ask your permission.” Especially when some human guys thought email was an appropriate way to ask a girl out.

“Yes, well, remember how Diana and Dyonne sucked up all that power form the altar in Greece?”

“I was there.” A bit beat up at the time but present nonetheless.

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Power is very attractive to griffins.”

No kidding.

The realization bloomed. “Wait, so you’re saying your sisters are two of the hottest women going in the griffin world?”

“You are painfully correct.”

I couldn’t help smiling. Go Diana and Dyonne! They deserved it.

His fingers brushed my cheek and my insides went gooey. “Hmm…now if power is incredibly sexy to griffins,” I began as he ran his fingers through my hair. “How do you feel about demon slayer power?”

His lips skimmed my ear. “Delicious. As is the particularly delectable demon slayer behind it.”

I felt my toes curl. “You’re just saying that because you want to get into my pants.”

He tipped his head toward mine. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ve known it from the beginning, Lizzie,” he said, caressing my cheek. “You’re powerful not because you’ve learned how to throw a switch star. It’s because of what’s in here.” He touched the place above my heart. “What’s inside of you, who you are.”

“I could never lead a clan.”

“But you led Roxie on a quest to find Zatar. You led Rachmort out of purgatory.”

“Dad got me in there.”

“It’s okay to ask for help. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen in a few hours.” Nobody could help me create the portal to fling the dreg out of Roxie and if I couldn’t save her, I’d be even more alone when Zatar showed up.”

Dimitri burned with intensity. “You have more power than you know. And you can do this.”

“I can’t even keep my hair from turning purple.”

The side of his mouth tugged into a wry grin. “Your new hair is hot.”

Ha. “It’s awful.”

My heart sped up as pulled me toward him, slowly – deliberately. “It’s such a turn-on.”

Impossible.

His kiss drove straight through me. I gripped his shoulders, knowing exactly what this man meant to me. And how it would hurt to let him go. I tipped my mouth up to his again and again as his arms closed around me. When we came together like this, without trying to plan or worry or think about tomorrow, it made everything seem possible.

“Wait, stop,” I pulled back. “We have to find the soul flower.” I ducked out of his embrace, grabbing his hand. “Come on. It’s a gift from a visiting spirit.”

“Then the spirits need to give us a break,” he said, running his fingers through my hair.

“I can’t believe you actually like my violet hair,” I said, bending to look at the base of a fallen wooden marker.

“Now that it’s short, I can’t keep my hands off it.”

“I look like Frenchie from
Grease
,” I protested.

“From Greece?” he asked, letting me go as far as I could stretch the space between us, and then drawing me close. “Do I know a Frenchie?”

I bent to search near another dry and crumbling wooden monument. “Forget it.”

Two seconds later, I ended up back in his arms. I’d give the man points for persistence.

“You don’t look like this Frenchie,” he murmured. “You look like a wild woman.” His mouth claimed mine in a hot, wet kiss. “And I would never,” he nipped my lower lip, “never leave you.”

“Dang. We gotta find a flower.”

“Because…?” he said, nibbling my ear, knowing he was driving me crazy.

“Because then we have a few minutes alone.”

Grandma said she’d send up a red flare when they needed me. In the meantime, I needed to gather my strength. Right?

“There’s a flower,” Dimitri pointed.

Holy moley. White flowers carpeted the hippie cemetery behind us. Their tiny white petals bloomed full and lush in the moonlight.

“Looks like hippies really do believe in free love,” Dimitri said, leading me over to a small copse under a scraggly pine tree.

“I can’t believe dead people are helping you get laid.”

He nibbled my chin. “It’s more than that and you know it.” The space between us practically sizzled. “Open yourself up to magic, Lizzie. You say you believe in it. Now let it touch you.”

I snorted, not sure if I was touched or turned on.

Tears welled in the corners of my eyes. He wanted to be here with me, in this broken-down hippie commune with a demon on the way. He’d rather argue with me in a cemetery than sit on the veranda of his villa in Greece. And he’d helped me find the magic to bring me to him.

He loved me.

Dimitri pulled me down into the flowers with him. On top of him, legs straddling him, he caught me in a searing kiss. His hands slid down me, drove us together, rocked me against him. I poured all my love, my fear, my sheer desire for him into that kiss.

He made a low sound in his throat, raw and wild, as he rolled me under him. Dimitri never did anything halfway and I loved him for it.

And he loved me.

Not because we understood where this was going or how it would work, but because he needed me. I needed him.

Oh God, did I need him.

I reveled in the feel of his weight on me. He was hot and sleek as I stripped him, peeling the black T-shirt over his head, my mouth closing over his nipple, feeling him tense and shudder.

Breathing hard, he flicked open the button at the top of my leather pants and eased them down my hips. We were done sparring, finished pretending that we didn’t know what we wanted.

We’d stripped away our excuses, gave up our defenses. There was only pure need and desire.

“Now,” he said, driving into me. I looked into his eyes, the intensity in his expression raw and wild. Muscles tight, breath coming in pants, he drove into me over and over again. I wrapped my legs around him and urged him harder, deeper.

Yes. I threw my head back.

Ribbons of pleasure spiraled through me and I savored the sheer, rich pleasure of the moment, of being with this man. Of taking what I needed with no excuses, no regrets. No thought of what should be, reveling in what was real and good and
mine
.

Afterward, we cuddled under the weathered pine at the edge of the cemetery.

My head rested on his bare chest. We’d dressed again, but I’d asked him to forgo the shirt. Not that I needed another one. I just liked the skin-to-skin contact for as long as I could have it.

“You really think I can do this?” I asked, twirling the soul flower in my fingers. Grandma’s signal should come at any time. When she sent up a red flare, my time with Dimitri here would be over.

He ran his knuckles across my collar bone, down my arm. “Yes, you can,” he murmured into my hair, “I’m just waiting for the day when you expect it too.”

I tipped my head up for a perfect kiss.

“Oh for the love of Pete,” Grandma hollered, barreling across the field, kicking up a small dirt storm behind her.

Like she had room to talk.

“I sent up the flares ten minutes ago.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t even want to know why you didn’t see fireworks going off.” Her jaw dropped when she noticed the carpet of soul flowers covering the grounds. She shook it off. “Pick a flower. Any flower. Roxie’s ready. Evie’s ingredients are in place. We just need you.”

I grabbed a handful, just to be sure.

Chapter Twenty-one

The witches had been busy.

Grandma led us past the buses and back behind the cabin. Red lanterns blazed alongside torches set into the ground every few feet. An open field stretched at least fifty yards, ending in a hill filled with rusting hippie sculptures and scraggly clumps of grass. Torches scattered over the hillside as well, illuminating it in circles of light and valleys of shadow.

Frieda jogged toward us, holding her torch like it was the final lap of the Olympic relay. “You all set, Lizzie?”

Frankly, I had no idea. “I have the flower, I said, holding it out to her.

Plus about a dozen spares.

“I’ll take that,” Ant Eater plucked it out of my hand and stuffed it into a big, messy ball she was carrying.

“What is that?” I asked, trying to see. The gold-toothed witch hadn’t bothered with light.

“Your hand looks like shit,” she replied.

No kidding.

Chessie, the medical witch, rushed up to me.

“Don’t tell me you know about vox burns.” The woman had an incredible store of random knowledge, but this was pushing it.

“Doesn’t matter what caused it,” she said, opening up a tube of something with her teeth. “It’s how you treat it.”

She slathered ointment onto my hands while the witch behind her cut bandages and tape.

“Listen up,” Grandma said, turning me toward the field. “We have Roxie setting up over by the weed barrels.”

So it was marijuana!

“You plug her with Evie’s portal device. The same time you do it, you focus – really focus – use every thought you have to send her where you want her to go.”

“Which is?”
 
”Here!” Frieda said, jogging out across the field. I had no

idea where she was going until she stopped over a large pile of mattresses and pillows. “We didn’t want to put torches too close to the bedding,” Frieda called, “but just aim.”

“Okay,” I said, fixing the spot in my mind. “So I wing Roxie into the pile of fluff. What do we do when the dreg comes flying out?” If we didn’t have light, we wouldn’t be able to see it or capture it.

“I do pretty good in the dark,” Dimitri said, “I’ll set up next to the landing zone.”

Which meant I really couldn’t miss.

I flexed my bandaged hands. They felt a lot better. “Thanks, Chessie.”

“I’ll stand by with torches,” Frieda added. “I have a whole committee.”

“I can’t believe we don’t have more flashlights,” I mused. Until I lost it, I’d kept my Maglite with me at all times.

“Yeah, well we don’t have time to go to the store,” Grandma said.

“And,” Neal piped up from somewhere behind me, “flashlight batteries aren’t good for the planet,”

“Neither is a demon invasion,” I shot back.

Grandma interrupted before I could show the hippie a close-up version of a switch star. “Just be glad we had time to throw together your portal recipe.” She turned, “Now where is that portal recipe? Battina?”

The library witch shuffled up, her orange Kool-Aid hair pinned up in a loose bun. She held out a handkerchief-wrapped stink bomb.

“That smells like horse poop.”

“It is horse poop,” she said, unwrapping it into my injured hand.

“Urkle,” I fought the nausea crawling up the back of my throat.

“Technically,” Battina continued, “its manure mixed with herbs. Would you like to see your Great Aunt’s recipe?”

Did she even need to ask me that?

Frieda held the light. I held the dung as I examined my Great Aunt’s notes.

Evie’s Best Portal Charm

Mix eight parts horse dung with one part mint

Yeah, well I didn’t smell any mint. I could see it, though, threaded in the dung.

One part garlic strewn with salt

One Mugwort leaf

One soul flower

Mix well and apply straight over the heart. Keep back at least six feet as impact winds will be extreme. Remember to utter the words:
Demons Out.

I like that. Nice and simple.