Fairy Bad Day(81)

Emma sent her friend a silent prayer of gratitude as she watched Loni pull him off the table and drag him outside the burned kitchen.

“Can you possibly be serious?” the darkhel snapped as it got to its feet, its face a mask of fury and anger. “How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t win? You can’t kill me, and by the time I’m banished, it will be too late because—”

“Who says I can’t kill you?” Emma hurried back toward her enemy, waving the packet of Skittles in her hand. “Curtis, stand back, I know exactly what to do.”

“So there is a Sir Francis hotline.” Rupert flew down. “I knew it.”

“Don’t be a moron.” The darkhel knocked the small fairy out of the way. “It’s not some great idea she’s borrowing from a dead slayer with delusions of grandeur. It’s just a trick.”

“Well, trick this,” Emma shouted as she lunged and then jumped up off her good ankle. As she became airborne, she used her mom’s dagger and slashed it across the darkhel’s throat. The minute the foul creature fell to the ground, she leaned over and started to pour the crushed Sour Skittles into the open wound. The darkhel reached up and pushed its talons deep into her calf muscle, ripping away at the tendon as it tried to use her leg to help it stand up. Emma ignored the pain that lanced through her.

“It won’t work, you know. You can’t kill me,” the darkhel said, its voice full of rage and venom.

“I can kill you.” She poured more Sour Skittle powder into the angry gash across its neck. The powder instantly started to bubble and blister, and Emma used the butt of her dagger to smash it deeper into the wound. “And by the way, this is for my mom.”

“You’re wasting your time.” It gurgled in a weakened voice as it dug its talons farther into her flesh. But instead of standing up and throwing her against the wall, as she had half expected, the darkhel continued to lie on the floor. Emma tried to stay focused as she poured another Skittles packet onto the wound and watched as vile yellow fluid started flowing out like lava down the side of a volcano.

“This is for my dad.” She gritted her teeth as she reached for another packet.

“And this one’s for Curtis.” Still the creature didn’t loosen its grip, but Emma forced herself to ignore the pain as she poured the final packet of smashed-up Sour Skittles into the gaping, hideous wound and ground the powder in.

“And this? This one’s for me,” she said as she stood back and watched in anticipation as the wound continued to hiss and fizz, eating into the darkhel’s thick dark skin until a deathly stench of burning flesh and evil started to sting her nostrils. But before Emma could quite figure out what had happened, the darkhel suddenly lifted a gigantic arm and sent her flying back across the room. She landed in a heap next to Curtis.

“Emma—” he started to say, but she hardly heard as she watched the darkhel once again stand up to its full height, again spreading its giant wings the entire breadth of the room.

“I told you that you couldn’t kill me,” it snarled as it started to stalk toward her, its dark red eyes narrow and glowing. “And the sooner you—”

But whatever it had been going to say was lost as it suddenly widened its eyes and clutched at its chest. Next its gigantic wings wilted like a flower on a hot summer’s day and its lethal talons fell limply to its side as the darkhel dropped to its knees, its face a picture of stunned disbelief. Then it fell to the floor, its mouth grimacing in an almost comical way. Somewhere in the background Emma could hear Loni screaming.

“What’s going on? Emma, what’s happening?”

“I think she’s killed it,” Gilbert announced as he tentatively flew down from his spot on the ceiling and inspected what was left of the darkhel. Emma watched the creature’s giant chest cavity slowly sink away as if something was sucking it down from underneath until all that was left was a large pool of foul black liquid.

“Is he right? Did you kill it? It doesn’t feel like it’s still here.” Curtis turned to her, his left eye swollen.

“I don’t know.” For a moment Emma just stared at him as the reality sank in. “I—I mean, yes, I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

“Oh yeah,” Trevor confirmed. “He’s definitely dead. Nothing alive could possibly smell that bad.”

Emma took a deep breath and sighed with tentative relief as Loni raced over, her face pale.

“But how did you do it?” her friend demanded.

“Don’t laugh.” Emma gingerly let Loni and Curtis help her to her feet. “But I used Sour Skittles. I figured if they were lethal to Trevor and Company, then maybe a whole bunch of them ground up might do the trick on this fellow.”

Loni widened her eyes for a moment, then said, her voice filled with concern, “So how do you feel?”

“Like I’ve done five rounds with an invisible fairy,” Emma replied as she started to scan the room. “But what about my dad? Is he... I mean, did the darkhel—”

“Scratch him?” Loni interjected before quickly shaking her head. “Thankfully no. And none of the others are scratched either. Though they have been thrown around quite a lot and are in shock, not to mention suffering a few broken bones, but it could’ve worse, so much—”