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glinted in the sunlight as she
smiled and gave Grandma a mock salute.
    Thank goodness Grandma was beyond fun and games. "Ant Eater, I need you
and the Red Skulls to catch up with Dimitri. Lizzie and I will take care of
Phil."
    "Fine," I said, heading for my bike. She was right. Annoying, but
right.
    "That's what I'm talking about," Pirate said as I buckled him into
the glorified baby carrier that served as his bike harness. The black leather
contraption looked like it belonged in an old Kiss video, but it worked. Pirate
wasn't the only Harley biker dog out there, but he considered himself one of
the most stylish.
    "You know I was thinking I might learn how to drive," Pirate mused
as I dialed Dimitri again. It went to voicemail. Of all the dumb things for him
to pull, heading into a mess of succubi had to be at the top of the list. I was
mad. I was worried. If they so much as breathed on him…
    Pirate wriggled in his harness. "Yeeeeeesss!" he hollered as I
gunned us out into the open road.
    The drab brown of the desert whipped past at speeds that would have made me
go pale a month ago.
    Doubt crept over me. Who was I kidding? I still didn't know what I was
doing. And after the debacle with Dimitri, I wondered how much Grandma knew.
    She acted like I'd asked to be a demon slayer. Like I'd chosen it. Okay,
well I did have a chance to get rid of my powers and I didn't take it. But
still, none of this would have happened if the original Demon Slayer of Dalea,
my mom, hadn't foisted her powers off on me. My mom had received detailed
instruction from a range of top teachers. I got what we could do on the
run—what Grandma remembered.
    This whole thing—me being a demon slayer—had been a complete and
utter accident. I'd never felt it as keenly as I did today—knowing I was
expected to levitate, to know the science of switch stars—heck, to know
when I was leading my lover into a trap. Now Dimitri might be in mortal danger.
Uncle Phil certainly was, along with the citizens of Las Vegas if we drew a
demon attack, and I still didn't know what I was going to do about it.
    I glanced at Grandma on the bike behind me and motioned to her that I was
taking it up a notch. She'd be thrilled. It took anything over ninety miles per
hour to really blow her hair back. I, on the other hand, usually liked to work
under the assumption that speed limits were there for a reason. Besides, Pirate
tended to throw me off balance when we went full throttle. Pirate had a need
for speed. He liked to pretend he was running.
    Pirate's tail thumped against my stomach as I hit the gas. "That's what
I'm talking about!" he cried. "Let's pop a wheelie!"
    "Let's not." I ducked my head around a flailing paw and kicked it
up to ninety-five.
    Ever since we'd gotten back from hell, I'd been on edge. I didn't know if it
was the sheer terror of facing a fifth-level demon or the fact that I'd quietly
given up part of my essence to save Dimitri's life. Probably both.
    When I cradled Dimitri's bloodied head in my lap, when I made the choice to
bring him back, Grandma told me there'd be consequences. Unfortunately, she
didn't know what they'd be. At the time, I didn't care. Of course I'd do it all
again. Still, I felt like I was walking around waiting for the other shoe to
drop.
    Maybe I should've told him I saved his life. Then again, that could open up
another whole can of worms.
    As we stormed toward Vegas, I began to feel the succubi. It started out as a
heaviness, like a cascade of worries raining down. I gunned my engine harder.
    Oh yes.
    I wanted to feel them, needed to see them. The closer I came to Las Vegas
and its demons, the more I knew I had to be there. I could almost touch them
with my mind. And there weren't the original six devils anymore. Not even the
thirteen that DIP Officer Reynolds predicted. Oh no. There were at least two
dozen of them.
     
    Excerpt from
The Dangerous Book foe Demon Slayers:
    Beware of live spells. They may look cute, but most have