The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers by Angie Fox Read Free Book Online Page B

she
said, holding up a massive Las Vegas Wedding Guide. Post-it notes sprouted from
the book.
    She tossed the guide onto the kitchen counter with a
thunk
.
"Forty-three chapels, every one marked as a possibility. We're
screwed."
    So he
was
getting married.
    Why?
    I reached for the book. We couldn't possibly check out that many places.
Unless—"What are you doing?" She'd begun chanting quietly to
herself.
    Balancing the book on my knee, I began flipping through the entries. Phil
had indeed marked everything from the Little White Wedding Chapel to Cupid's
24-Hour Drive-Thru Weddings. I stared at the pages until I found myself looking
right past them. This was bad. In fact, I had a feeling that I couldn't begin
to comprehend the awful event that could be taking place at this very moment.
    If I knew what I was doing, if I were a better demon slayer, I'd be able to
handle this. As it stood, I didn't have a clue.
    I heaved the book onto the counter and to reassure myself that something
good was happening in the world, pushed aside Phil's kitchen curtains. The
kitchen overlooked the backyard and sure enough, I saw lots of flying dirt and
a tail. Give him long enough, and Pirate would dig a hole to China.
    Grandma clomped up behind me. "I tried to summon Phil's spectral
trail."
    "What?" I had no idea what that was.
    "It'd take a day to explain."
    Fine. "Did it work?"
    "Not that I can tell."
    We headed for Uncle Phil's simple white-walled bachelor bedroom, praying for
a break, a hint, a clue as to where he might be. A mattress hunkered in the
corner under a mess of green-striped sheets. More picture frames crowded a
single dresser. But there was no trace of my uncle.
    No clues.
    No more rooms.
    No way to find him.
    I stared at the dust bunnies on the floor.
    "Try to look at the positive," Grandma said.
    "What's that?"
    "I don't know. You're the one who's good at all the pansy-ass
shit."
    I plopped down onto Phil's bed, elbows on my knees. At least we hadn't been
arrested for breaking and entering. Yet.
    Grandma started rooting through the mess of pictures on Phil's dresser.
"We'll go back to the hotel and channel him."
    Oh sure. Why not?
    I looked at her sideways. "Channeling scares me."
    "Why? Because last time I ended up in hell?"
    "Bingo."
    The mattress sagged as Grandma sat next to me. "It'll be okay. You'll
see. Besides, Phil is worth the risk. He's a hell of a guy."
    "So if Uncle Phil's always supposed to be here for me, where is he
now?" I was getting pretty miserable pretty fast. Speaking of tough times,
"Where was he when we ran into Vald, the fifth-level demon, last
week?"
    "Oh he's been living it up. When you turned thirty, his job was done."
    My heart sank. I'd lost him before I even knew I'd had him. It wasn't fair.
    "What'd you want?" Grandma asked. "Demon slayer powers and a
fairy godfather too?"
    I didn't want anything, except to help out the guy who'd obviously put a lot
of time into looking out for me. "Uncle Phil and me, we have to have some
kind of a connection, right?"
    "Nope." Grandma shook her head. "He's free as a bird."
    "And now he's in mortal danger." I scooted off the bed.
"Okay," I said, pacing the small room. There had to be a way.
"He has to have some ties to me, right?" Or else why all the
pictures? The diaries? The shrine to my retainer? If I were him, I would have
boxed that nasty thing up the minute the clock struck midnight.
    Maybe I could use that. He hadn't been able to let go completely. I had to
reach the part of him that still held on, before it was too late. I closed my
eyes and wished with all of my might that my fairy godfather would appear. I
clenched my fists until sweat pooled in my palms, I focused on my fairy godfather,
on my family, on my need to see him
right now
. It had to work.
    My bangs fluttered as the air around me hissed.
    Grandma chanted off to my left, "
Vis fero tuli latum, vis fero tuli
latum
," deep and hard. Whatever she was conjuring, she'd better belt
it out with