Free The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers by Angie Fox

but I'd rather not
have Pirate anywhere near.
    "Hold tight, Phil," Grandma called before she closed us into the
pitch-black bathroom.

Chapter
Seven
     
    I couldn't see a thing. "You forgot to light the candles," I said,
hearing my voice take on a slight echoey tone.
    "I'm getting to that, Lizzie," Grandma said. "You follow my
lead, okay?"
    I nodded, as if she could see it in the dark. For all I knew, she could.
Grandma might not be the smoothest person around, but she could do things I'd
never dreamed about until I met her.
    She struck a match and held it in front of her. Our reflections shone like
apparitions in the mirror.
    "In this looking glass," she intoned, shadows falling into curves
of her face, "I see more than there is to be seen."
    She dipped the match to light the thick red candle on the right. "I
call to the spirits who guide us." The wick caught fire and Grandma blew
out her match. I could almost taste the sulfur. She glanced at me and I
wondered if she was thinking the same thing.
    "I call to the spirits of vision," she said, lighting the second
candle from the first.
    Her hands warm and strong on my shoulders, Grandma positioned me next to
her. Her breath tickled my ear. "Now chant after me. Three times."
    I nodded, watching my reflection in the light of the two candles.
    "Bloody Mary," Grandma said solemnly.
    Oh she had to be kidding. I remembered playing that as a kid. But as I
watched her clenched jaw and determined stance in the mirror, I knew this
wasn't a joke.
    "Bloody Mary," I said, as solemn as she had.
    I almost didn't want to know. I watched my nose wrinkle as we said it together.
    "Bloody Mary."
    The temperature of the room plummeted.
    Holy hoo doo. I about fell over sideways when a scarlet liquid streaked down
the mirror—from the other side. I couldn't have touched it if I wanted
to, which I
absolutely
did not want to. I clenched my hands, my nails
digging into my palms as I stared at my reflection through the murky red glaze.
    Grandma slapped her sweaty hand around my chilled, shaking one. "Now
for the money shot," she said.
    "Bloody Mary," we repeated together.
    My pulse pounded. The liquid on the mirror beaded and shifted like droplets
of mercury until a narrow face appeared. Foul liquid streamed from the wide-set
eyes and bubbled from the ugly gash in her neck. I held my breath, repulsed yet
terrified to look away. Bloody Mary stared right back at us.
    She opened her slash of a mouth. "What do you want?" she demanded
in a thick, wet voice as crimson splashed from her lips, splattering the white
sink and countertop.
    The light from the candles cast deep shadows in the lines of Grandma's face.
"We need to see who controls Phil Whirley."
    Bloody Mary faded and we saw Phil's living room. A shrunken, razor-toothed
thing
burst through the front window. A swirling gray cloud encompassed it as it clambered
over the glass-strewn couch on black clawed feet. Serena? It had to be.
    It smashed straight through the coffee table, heading for the bookshelf. The
succubus punched through my retainer case, glass tinkling to the floor as it
seized the framed photo behind it. It tore the frame like an envelope and
ripped out the picture of my college graduation. It hissed, spittle clinging to
its blackened lips. Rubies dangled from its scraggly ears. My picture crumbled
into dust in its hands. Oh yeah, the demon knew who had Phil.
    Well, too late now. "You lose," I said, bound and determined to
make that true.
    It whipped its head around, as if I'd walked right into the room. Could it
see me? Impossible. Still, I practically felt its scarlet eyes on me. It
cackled, low and throaty and the image in the mirror faded away.
    That's when everything went to hell.
    We heard the hotel door crash open. "What the—?" I searched
for the demon in the mirror and found Bloody Mary instead. Terrified for Pirate
and Uncle Phil, I scrambled for the doorknob.
    "It's locked!" I said, twisting hard, wrenching my wrist.
    "Let me