A Girl's Guide to Demon Hunting

Copyright © 2012 Emily Miles
All rights reserved.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To Matt, Jeff, Sohaila and Kelly without each of you this would have never been more than an idea. You've made my dream come true.
Thank you, so very, very much.

Prologue

    The little boy’s deep blue eyes filled with tears as he stood in the doorway of his room. Seeing him standing there, hands crossed over his chest, he looked so much like his father; stubborn.
    “But I don’t want to go to bed.”
    “I know Moppet but it’s late and you have a big day tomorrow, your first day of school,” she said, pulling down the bed sheets so he could climb in.
    “How about I read you a story?”
    “I don’t wanna listen to those girly fairy tales,” he mumbled, climbing into the soft warm bed and scooting over for her to sit down.
    “And what story would you like me to tell you?” She asked, sitting on the bed next to him. She brushed his dark hair from his eyes while she waited for him to make up his mind. Not that she really had to ask; it was the same story every time.
    “I wanna know about this.” He said, pulling at the leather cord that hung around her neck.
     Smiling at him, she took it from around her neck, untangling it from her blonde curls so he could hold it and feel the warmth of the gold in his little hands, learn its shape. As she placed it in his hand, she felt a visceral moment of panic at its absence. Tears, so unlike her, filled her eyes. She blinked them away as she watched his little hand clench the gold disk.
     “You already know the story, Moppet.”
     “I know but I like how you tell it,” he said with a pleading look.
Just as she knew which story he’d want, she knew she couldn’t resist the earnest look in his eyes when he asked for it yet again. She took a breath.
     “Our ancestors told of the time when the Heavens opened and the Angels fell to earth. These Fallen Angels walked the earth in wonder as they experienced feelings: love, anger, pain for the first time in their long existence. In time the Fallen Angels grew more and more like humans and less the Pure Heavenly creatures they once were. Stronger, faster and filled with a power not of the earth, the Fallen used their advantages to try to control the humans.  But humans are unpredictable and they rose against the Fallen. Of course they were no match and  it’s said the ground was stained red from the blood of the humans.
     Realizing they could never defeat the Fallen on their own, the humans begged for help from the remaining Pure Angels in Heaven. The Pure heard their pleas and came to earth, where they wept at the devastation the Fallen had caused. The Pure came to each Fallen in the dark of night and gave them a choice: come back to heaven or fight against the Pure and be driven to Hell. Some of the Fallen chose to rejoin the Pure in Heaven but there were others who could not resist the joy of controlling the humans, nor the emotions to which they had become addicted. They chose to stay and fight and at the break of dawn the next day, the war began.
    This war was unlike anything the humans had ever seen. The foes were well matched, each side using their different powers to cut down their enemies. The air was continuously pierced with the cries of the wounded and the vivid colors of the Angels as they continued their battles.  As the war waged for days on end, the humans hid in their homes, praying for peace to once again come to the earth.
    On the third day of the war the battlefield fell silent and in the predawn light both sides retreated to care for their wounded. The Pure found their number severely depleted and began to question their ability to win. It was on this night, as the Fallen planned their next move, that our ancestors first made their existence known…at the gate of the Pure’s stronghold.”
    “The Thirteen.” Said the boy in awe.
    “That’s right Moppet,” she said with a gentle but wistful smile.
    “Thirteen humans. Sitting atop their horses and dressed in their finest robes, they requested an audience with the Pure Angels. The Pure saw these Thirteen were not like the other humans; among other things they did not cower or look away but met the eyes of the Pure, if not as equals, as a force to be respected.
    Believing the Thirteen to be nothing more than brave humans, the Pure listened as our ancestors told them of their plan to defeat the Fallen. Many were expected to die, as is unavoidable in war but it was agreed to be a necessary sacrifice if it meant peace would once again come to earth.
    The Pure were intrigued by the plan, as well as the courage of these new warriors but they also knew the Fallen would cut down the humans with barely any effort and warned them as much. Our ancestors told the Pure exactly who they were; the children of the Fallen, forged in the union between Angels and those born on earth.
     Inside each of the Thirteen stirred powers so strong they could stand against the Fallen. Whether through the knowledge of what these people were or simply their courage and determination to fight, the Pure agreed to the strategy laid forth by the Thirteen.
    At the break of dawn the war commenced and the two armies faced off once again, the Fallen and the Pure, except this time they were joined by the Thirteen. The Fallen were unprepared for these beings who looked as humans but were not so easily destroyed. This unexpected foe, along with the continuing strength and valor of the Pure, turned the war.
    Fighting side by side, the Pure and the Thirteen drove the Fallen into Hell and peace once again came to earth.
    Their purpose achieved, the Thirteen spread across the earth, searching for more of their kind. They met with persecution for their differences from both human and Angel. Eventually the Thirteen agreed to hide their powers, using them only when absolutely necessary. Years passed and the humans forgot about the War of the Angels. But we kept the memories alive.
    The stories passed from generation to generation. Until came the day when the earth cracked, unleashing a terrible darkness. Smoke filled the air, turning day to night. Crawling from the giant crack came creatures unlike anything ever seen. Tall, with red burning eyes, grey skin like leather, large bat-like wings dragged behind their clawed feet. Like locusts, the creatures took to the air and spread across the earth, destroying everything in their path. Until they met one of us. You see, we’d prepared for this day, the day the Fallen would come back to claim the earth.”
    “We were ready!” the little boy said, punching the air as if he was striking a Demon. Smiling at his enthusiasm, she continued “And…?”
    “Oh...and we became the Guardians of the humans.” He said. “But the coin; you’re forgetting about the coin.” Smiling again, she continued the story.
    “Remember when I told you there was a long period of peace on earth? Well, during this time there was waged a great war in Hell, and from the ashes of this war there came seven victors.”
    “Mommy says they’re the seven Kings. She says if I don’t eat all my peas they’ll snatch me in the middle of the night. But I just laugh; everyone knows the Kings are still trapped in Hell.” He said.
    “I don’t blame you, I don’t like peas either,” she said, giving him a smile.
     “Why did the Fallen change?” he asked.
    “Because after they were banished to Hell they fought amongst themselves, taking the heavenly power of the other Fallen. Each time they took this power a little of the goodness that remained in them was lost and eventually, as their insides changed, so did their outsides. Until one day their beauty fell away leaving nothing but the Demon.”
    “And what about this?” He asked, opening his hand to show her the small gold coin.
    “They say the Fallen had to pay to get out of Hell; not with money but with their souls. When they did, the King placed a coin where the soul once was, to remind each one of the cost of freedom and the debt still owed to the King. Every DemonDemon has its own coin, marked with the seal of its King buried deep in the center of its chest. When you crush the coin, you send the Demon back to hell.”
    “But daddy says Demon coins are silver. Why is this one gold?” he asked with a yawn.
    “Because this coin is special.” She said.
    “Why?” he asked.
    “I don’t know, that’s what I need you to find out.”
    “But not yet.”
    “No, not yet.” She said with a smile.
    “Because it’s not lost?”
    “That’s right, it’s not lost. Soon though it will be and then what are you going to do?”
    “Find it.” He said, his little hand curling around the coin.

Chapter 1

Tip 177:
Sharp and pointy are always good if not aimed at you
.

    Crouched on the roof of the Las Vegas City Hall, I had a good view of the Department of Motor Vehicles (a.k.a. Hell in a little brick building) and more importantly a perfect view of the employee entrance. The DMV had closed over an hour ago and all the workers but one had left.
    Of the seven classes of Demons, Sloths were always the easiest to spot. I mean really, working at the DMV? She may as well just wear a sign. I stumbled onto Carol this afternoon when I went to take my driving test...again. She was the only one at the counter and I was the last customer in line. I had to wait twenty minutes for her to get her paperwork in order before she even called me to the counter. As if that wasn’t enough to make me want to kill her, I then had to wait for her computer to boot up.
    It wasn’t long before my frustration really began to grow, and with it the faint smell of sulfur began to emanate from her as she fed on my emotions. I couldn’t kill her for just feeding, despite how much I wanted to. I had a tolerable agreement with the Vegas Demon Lords, I wasn’t about to ruin it over some Sloth Demon.
    While she finished filling out my paperwork I waited, attempting to ignore the scent of sulfur practically pouring off of her. Stepping away from the counter to get some fresh air, I saw that the wall behind me was covered in employee-of-the-month photos. Row after row of crappy pictures, each in a cheap wooden frame. If anyone actually paid attention to the photos they might stop, do a little adding and realize that Carol had not aged in thirty years. She had broken Demon rule number one: don’t draw attention to yourself.
    Which is why I was still sitting here, the cold desert air chilling me through my purple hoodie. I hadn’t planned on hunting tonight and was totally underdressed. Why I had ever let Jenny talk me into buying this stupid skirt I had no idea. As if to rub it in, a gust of wind blew, causing me to shiver and Pancake to dance at my feet, whining for me to pick her up. Unfolding my arms, I gave a quick pat on my leg, letting her know without words to jump. Catching her, I cradled her in my arms, tucking her in tight to keep her warm. Pancake gave me a small warm wet lick on the back of my hand in appreciation.
    Glancing down at her, I found a big smile in the little black and white face. As far as I could tell she was mostly Boston Terrier with only hint of Hell Hound, just enough to make her deadly. I found her about a year ago, cold and starving in the house of a Demon I was hunting. I shouldn’t have kept her, any other hunter would have killed her right there. I couldn’t do it though. I tried; had my knife at the ready but when she turned her big brown puppy eyes on me, it was all over. If mom had been there she would have freaked, but she wasn’t and I wasn’t her. So I kept Pancake, besides what else was a freak like me supposed to have as a pet, a goldfish?
    The squeak of a door brought my attention back to the hunt at hand. I recognized the small stooped figure; ugly polyester uniform, tightly curled brown hair, as she paused in the little pool of yellow light to lock the door. Holding Pancake tightly against my chest, I ran hunched over towards the rear of the City Hall building and without pausing leapt from the two story building, landing softly on my feet. Thankfully this part of Vegas is totally deserted after six o’clock, I wouldn’t want to be seen or even worse end up on the web.
    Circling around to the alleyway, I ducked into the shadow of a dumpster and waited. The click, click of her heels echoed in the dark as she walked to the back lot where the employees parked. Careful to not make a sound, I slipped from shadow to shadow, slowly gaining on her. When I finally reached the rear of the DMV, I set Pancake down and with a small tap on the end of her nose, put her on guard. Knowing my back was covered I was free to totally focus of the little old lady before me.
    It figured the giant tank of a car was hers, she probably drove with her blinker on too. Feeling the rush of the hunt, I opened myself up to the darkness within me and silently followed her to the middle of the empty lot.
    The old lady persona was gone as soon as the Demon felt my power. Spinning around she faced me, burning red eyes, pointed teeth bared, her fingers morphed to razor sharp claws, perfect for shredding my skin. I slipped my dagger from its sheath in my boot, and holding it so the blade was against my forearm, I ran at the Demon. It leapt to the side, thinking I would just keep going, leaving my back unguarded. What did it think I was, some kind of newbie? Spinning in mid air, I lashed my arm out, catching it in the side with my dagger.
    Landing softly on my feet I faced the Demon, who was now hunched over at the waist, the acidic smell of its blood wafting in the air. It recovered quickly and rushed me. I stood perfectly still as it came at me, waiting until both its feet left the ground before dropping into a crouch. It had leapt towards me intending to tackle me to the ground, where it would have the advantage. Never taking my eyes from it, I raised myself up just as it flew over my head, driving my dagger deep into the center of its chest. I felt the warmth of its blood on my hand an instant before I heard the crack of its marker and the Demon disappeared into thin air.
  
    The fight was over faster than I expected; the Demon now back in hell, which according to the legends is where she would stay. I guess Demons are only allowed one get out of hell free card. Pancake joined me as I cleaned up, digging through the Demon’s purse, I found her car keys and unlocked the doors. The car started and heat on, I left Pancake waiting for me in the passenger seat.
   Searching the alleyway, I found the Demon’s marker lying in a pool of blood. I took my silver Zippo from my hoodie pocket and knelt down next to the small puddle of blood. Flicking the lighter on, I touched the blue flame to the blood and watched as it jumped into the air before fizzing out into a puff of smoke.
   The ghost of a smile crossed my face as I moved to each bloodstain, igniting them to remove all traces of our presence. Dad taught me to do this when I was little, his warm calloused hands wrapped around mine, showing me how to use his lighter. His deep voice echoed in my mind.
You have to move fast Allie, Demon blood burns like the fires of Hell.
    Rubbing my thumb across his initials etched in the lighter always brought me back to the summer he taught me what it meant to be a Guardian. Back then I hadn’t thought I would ever have to use the training; my parents were scholars. It was expected I would follow in my family’s footsteps and become a scholar; fate it seemed had other, more Demon-stabby plans.
    Once the blood burned away, I picked up the Demon marker. Rubbing the burnt marks off I held it up in the dim light of the moon. About the size of a half dollar coin, it was made of a silver metal and etched in the surface was the symbol of the Sloth King. I tucked it in the pocket of my hoodie and made a mental note to drop it off at Hank’s, the Sloth Demon Lord here in Vegas, so he wouldn’t cause a stink over a missing Demon.