Free demon slayer 05.5 - the tenth dark lord a leaping by angie fox Page A

his wife was the sexiest woman on the planet.
    “God, Lizzie.” His eyes glittered as he looked down at me. He ran his tongue over his lower lip as I unzipped him and reached inside. I stroked the hard length of him and fought back a wicked grin.
    “It’s a party!” Grandma burst in the front door.
    I yanked my hand out of Dimitri’s pants. Frick! Thank God his wide chest and back hid me from the front door as he yanked my top back into place.
    “Aww,” she said, covering her eyes with the studded leather box she carried. “You’re lucky I’m not your mom.” Yes, well Grandma Gertie was bad enough. A half-dozen of her witch gang ducked around her like a river past a rock. Then more after that. They must have all ridden together.
    “You ever heard of knocking?” I asked as Dimitri kept his back to them and got decent.
    He glanced over his shoulder. “Forget that. I’m going for the antiwitch door bolt.”
    “Won’t work,” Grandma said, placing the box onto our small kitchen table. “Once you invite a witch, she’s invited. We’re way stickier than vampires.”
    More aggressive too. The biker witches attacked the food spread like a pack of wild hyenas.
    “You didn’t need to bring anything,” I told her as Dimitri rescued the pigs in a blanket from the oven. Yep. They were singed. Maybe I could melt some Velveeta over them.
    She shrugged out of her black leather Red Skulls biker jacket. “We had a few live spells left over from last night,” she said, tossing the jacket over a chair. “I thought you could use a couple.”
    “Thanks,” I said, trying to sound like I meant it, while wishing she’d gone for a simple box of candy, or even a petrified fruit cake. Live spells were more like creatures than enchantments. And they certainly had minds of their own.
    They were always in motion, and they loved to escape. Oh, and they tended to breed in the wild. There were hundreds of different kinds—some for defense, like Mind Wiper Spells that would render a person or creature unable to focus on anything other than their one secret wish. Then there were the nuisance Lose Your Keys–type spells. Oh, and the Mexican Food–Craving Spell. No telling why the witches even invented that one. It seemed completely counterproductive. Either way, they never should have allowed the last two to escape. Those things would creep up on you when you least expected it.
    I cracked open the box, using my hand to hold back the two spiraling, lime-green spells inside. “What do these puppies do?”
    Grandma accepted a handful of salt and vinegar flavored pork rinds from a gold-toothed biker witch. “They whip up holiday decorations,” she said, chowing down. “Fancy ones. You can do a whole biker bar with just one.”
    “Great,” I said, trying to hand the box off to Dimitri. But he was talking to Ermogene about her family recipe for trosquirrelen: pickled trout stuffed in a squirrel, stuffed in a chicken, and roasted on the grill.
    Not in this lifetime.
    I mean, yes I’d embraced my inner biker witch. Or maybe just my demon-slayer side. But I drew the limits at Harley-chic decorations or anything involving fish from a jar. Besides, our beachside condo was already decorated for the holiday with a strand of twinkling white lights above the cabinets, a red and gold tree in the corner, a sprig of fresh mistletoe here and there.
    A sharp bark came from outside the sliding glass door off the kitchen. I scooted around the table and opened it up for my Jack Russell terrier, Pirate. Ever since I’d grown into my powers, my dog could talk to me—in real sentences. It was a blessing and a curse.
    “Come on in,” I said as he shook off, scattering beach sand over my hardwood floor. “Where’s Flappy?”
    Flappy was Pirate’s pet dragon. Because a pet should have a pet.
    Believe me, it wasn’t my idea.
    Pirate snorted. “Flappy’s dive-bombing for jellyfish. Sad that you won’t let dragons into the house.”
    I had to