Demon Slayer Read online

  It was the work that paid the bills. For the right price, we could use our blood sorcery to make charms and spells, performing all kinds of magic that people would pay a hefty amount for.

  I dug the two vials of demon blood out of my pocket and set them on the shelf. The people who came to us for spells didn’t realize what was in most of them, and I wasn’t telling. The demon blood was often our secret ingredient, and it was just a bonus that I could get it through my gig as a slayer.

  “Finally!” Mari’s smoky voice came from the other entrance. “I was worried.”

  I turned and grinned at her. “You knew I’d be fine.”

  She shrugged one slender shoulder that was barely covered by her scandalous black dress. “True enough. You’re tough as an old broad with a battle ax. But still, I worry.”

  “I know.” And I loved my sister for it. We were a team of two against the world.

  Together, we’d been through thick and thin, heaven and hell. These days were more heavenly, but our past was hell. Which was the main reason that Mari was dressed like a magical version of the vampy Elvira from that old movie.

  Her black dress plunged low between her breasts, sweeping the ground in dramatic fashion. Black hair was piled high over her head in a beehive, and a black sweep of makeup surrounded her eyes. She tapped her painted black claws on the doorframe as she inspected me for wounds.

  Sometimes Mari really dressed like this—she did like it, after all—and sometimes it was a glamour. Frankly, it was a pain in the ass to do your hair like that every morning, so the glamour was a lifesaver. But no matter what, the outside world saw her only in this getup or her black fight gear.

  I had a similar disguise, except white and classy. Ice queen, was how most described it. Though it was a disguise, it was also part of me. I liked my ice queen side.

  Our past selves had been scrappy fighters. When we were dressed as Aerdeca and Mordaca, no one would guess that the two of us were Aeri and Mari, the two urchins who’d escaped from Grimrealm, determined never to go back. There, we’d been forced by our families to use our magic for evil. Had we not escaped, we’d be dead by now.

  So, yeah. No way I was going back.

  “Come on,” I said. “I need a drink.”

  “What happened with the guy?” she asked.

  “Nothing. It doesn’t matter. I won’t see him again.”

  She propped a hand against her hip. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

  My heart thudded. “What?”

  “Aethelred said you haven’t seen the last of him. And that he’s from Grimrealm.”

  Grimrealm?

  Oh, shit.

  2

  “Now, I really need a drink.” I gestured for Mari to follow. “Come on.”

  She grinned and followed me toward the side entrance to my place. We’d put doors inside the apartments so they connected without us having to go outside. My place was minimalist and serene, though Mari preferred the term boring.

  I just liked things simple and clean, since it felt like my head was a mess half the time.

  The kitchen was all white, like the rest of the apartment, and I headed straight toward the liquor cabinet. Normally, I liked martinis and she liked Manhattans, but I was too beat to mix them up.

  “Wine okay with you?” I asked.

  “Perfect.” She sat in a chair at the little kitchen table, swung her feet up, and propped them by the pile of old crosswords I’d never finished. I didn’t have time for them, but I liked to pretend that one day I might.

  As if.

  I poured the wine into two glasses that I was ninety percent sure were clean, then turned to Mari. She now wore a black silk robe with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her face was free of makeup, and she looked tired.

  “Glamour today?” I asked. She must have just removed it.

  She nodded and rubbed her eyes. “I was too tired to do the hair.”

  I nodded and sat, handing her a glass. This was the Mari that only I saw. I leaned back in my chair, exhausted. Using magic cost energy, and I was beat. It wasn’t an infinite resource, and I needed to rest up to regenerate.

  “So, what does Aethelred say about this guy?” I asked.

  “Not much, honestly. He was over here for a game of poker when he had the vision. But he’s from Grimrealm. Or at least, he has some kind of connection there.”

  I hadn't met someone from Grimrealm since we’d escaped.

  I took a big sip of my wine. “Is he after me?”

  “Aethelred didn’t know.”

  I thought about how the big man had cursed at the sight of the demon’s body. “Well, he was after me or the demon. I think the demon.”

  “Bounty hunter?”

  I scowled. “Maybe.”

  “That’s your best bet, though. It would mean he’s not after you.”

  “I freakin’ hate bounty hunters.” I was a demon slayer. Slayer. As in, to kill. The bounty hunters wanted to keep the demons alive, at least until they could get their payday. Stupid.

  They just made my job harder.

  Years ago, when we’d been only teenagers, the Council of Demon Slayers had helped smuggle us out of Grimrealm. They also kept the secret of our origin, and the true nature of our magic and our dragon blood, so that our family could never find us again. It was the perfect deal as far as we were concerned. In exchange, Mari and I became demon slayers, hunting the worst of the worst and protecting Magic’s Bend. If a bounty hunter got to the demon before me, then I had to hunt the demon and the bounty hunter.

  Freaking annoying.

  Because no matter what, I didn’t lose my prey.

  I couldn’t afford to. Being a demon slayer wasn’t a paycheck—it was a calling. A responsibility. The blood sorcery paid the bills, and the demon slaying was what I did to keep my soul clean.

  I sipped the wine, contemplating the guy. Too bad he was so hot. “He didn’t see me, at least.”

  “Good.”

  “How was business today?”

  Mari shrugged. “Fine. Sold a charm and performed a memory spell. Got someone who wants a past life remembrance, though.”

  She’d need help with that one. “I should be free tomorrow.”

  I liked past life remembrances. I liked most of the blood sorcery, actually, just as much as I liked demon slaying.

  My life was like a coin with two sides, and I needed both to be whole.

  Darkness enveloped me, the familiar dream arriving with a bang.

  I had no idea how long we’d been in this barrel, but Mari and I had been squished up against each other for so long that my limbs were totally dead and my stomach empty.

  The empty stomach was normal, but this was not.

  If Aunt and Uncle had realized what torture shoving us in a barrel would be, they might have tried it on us.

  Instead, we’d gotten in here on our own, hoping against hope that this escape would be the one that worked. Staying in Grimrealm would kill us, and we’d get out of this underground hellhole no matter what it took.

  Mari gripped my hand tight, her breathing fast.

  I tightened my grip too. “It’s okay.”

  Could she hear that my words were breathy with fear? That my heart was trying to break its way out of my chest? Mari was normally the strong one, but she was claustrophobic.

  So I was trying to be the strong one.

  I didn’t think it was working.

  “When are they coming?” she whispered.

  “Soon.” Our rescuers were supposed to pick up the barrel and carry us out of Grimrealm. It was the first part of the deal, and if they didn’t stick to it, we were screwed. Aunt and Uncle had to be looking for us already, and if they found us before our rescuers…

  I shuddered.

  Finally, the barrel rocked, then lifted up in the air. Mari tumbled against me. I grunted.

  “Quiet in there,” a voice muttered from the outside.

  I held my breath, smooshed up against Mari.


  Hope surged through me, a bright light I hadn’t felt in years, as wild terror followed on its heels.

  This was it. Our escape.

  I gripped Mari’s hand tight and shifted so I could peer out of our breathing hole. Flashes of black tents and trade goods passed by, along with the occasional person. I couldn’t make out features, but it wouldn’t matter. Aunt and Uncle never let us out to meet other people, so there was no one for us to recognize.

  Most kids called their aunts something nice like Aunt Judy or Aunt Pam or Aunt Carey. But not us. Ours were just Aunt and Uncle—titles, not names--and I couldn’t even be sure we were related.

  With any luck, we’d never see them again.

  We bounced along in the barrel, every footstep taking us closer. Closer. Closer.

  “Where are we?” Mari whispered.

  “Near the exit, I think?” I had no idea, but Mari’s breathing was getting worse. “We’ll be okay.”

  “Okay, okay, okay,” she chanted softly.

  Abruptly, we stopped.

  “What’s in the barrel?” demanded a loud voice.

  My heart spiked into my throat. Mari made a low noise.

  “Just smoked fish,” muttered our rescuer. It sure smelled like it, at least. “Want to check?”

  Please don’t, please don’t, please don’t.

  We were fifteen, almost adults. If this man found us—he must be some kind of guard or something—would he let us go on our way, or would he send us back to Aunt and Uncle?

  He’d send us back—no question. That’s why we were in the barrel in the first place. Aunt and Uncle had spies everywhere.

  A cold sweat broke out on my skin as we waited, and Mari’s breathing was so fast I thought she would pass out.

  “No.” I could hear the disgust in the man’s voice. “Go on.”

  I squeezed Mari’s hand. We’re okay.

  Our rescuer started walking again. I clung to Mari. We bounced and rattled, and Mari went limp against me.

  No, no, no.

  I shook her, but she didn’t respond.

  Terror chilled my skin, and my stomach dropped. No! I couldn’t lose Mari. I’d rather die.

  I perked my ears for the outside, trying to hear if there was anyone there. Probably not?

  I knocked lightly three times on the barrel, our signal for when something was dreadfully wrong. Mari being unconscious—or dead—was definitely wrong. I was so scared I couldn’t think straight.

  A moment later, the barrel lowered to the ground, and the lid popped off. We tumbled out. I didn’t even look up, just shook Mari. Her gaunt face was pale, but she gasped, opening her eyes.

  Oh, thank fates.

  I hugged her, blood roaring in my head, then looked up at our rescuer. We were in an alley—just brick and stone.

  On the surface. Holy fates, we were on the surface.

  “We escaped?” I asked.

  We had to have. The air was fresher here, the sky sparkling with stars. I squinted at them, awed. I’d never seen the sky before. Just heard stories.

  The burly man with messy hair looked down at us. “You’ve escaped. Ready to live up to your end of the deal?”

  I nodded quickly. “Yes.”

  “Then welcome to your life as a demon slayer.”

  The alarm blared, a low wail that tore me from sleep.

  I scrambled through the blankets, landing on the floor with a thud.

  Holy fates holy fates holy fates.

  Red alert.

  Magic sparked along the ceiling, crimson and bright. I surged to my feet and sprinted for the door, not bothering with clothes. I wore a ratty old T-shirt and a pair of panties with a hole on the butt.

  When I was dressed as Aerdeca, I wore silk.

  When I was dressed as Aeri, this was as good as it got.

  Both were me, but right now, I was the me who had to race down to the enchanted pool and figure out what kind of demon had escaped this time.

  Because only the worst demons merited a red alarm.

  I met Mari in the back of the main apartment. Her hair was wild and her black robe sloppily tied.

  “Red alert.” She gasped the words, eyes wide.

  It’d been a whole year since the last one, and that alert had been a doozy. A plague demon had escaped, the kind that spread the ancient black death with every footstep.

  I had not had fun with that guy.

  Together, we raced into our workshop. The scent of the herbs hanging from the ceiling normally soothed me—unless there was a red alert.

  The hearth was cold and dark, but the hall light shed enough glow that we were able to head straight for the big table in the center of the room. I pressed my hand to one corner of it, while Mari pressed her hand to another. Magic ignited in the air, a faint sparkle of light, and the table levitated, shifting across the floor.

  There was a trapdoor beneath, though it was invisible even to us.

  Without speaking—this was old hat by now—we walked toward the spot on the floor that was right next to the trapdoor.

  I used my sharp thumbnail to pierce my finger. A drop of pearly white blood welled—yeah, that was another weird thing about having dragon blood—and I shook it onto the floor. Mari did the same, shaking off a droplet of ebony blood.

  When hers joined mine on the stone, magic snapped in the air, and the floor disappeared. Only our blood would ignite the spell to open the door.

  The tiny wounds in our thumbs would heal almost immediately. We used little drops of blood like this all the time, and a while back, we’d enchanted our hands to heal quickly.

  I went first, rushing down the narrow spiral staircase. The stone was cold beneath my bare feet, but I never remembered to buy slippers for emergency occasions like this.

  Down here, the earth smelled damp. A pale green glow beckoned us forward, and I raced for it, spiraling downward into the earth. About halfway down, I reached a platform.

  Thick green vines snaked across the passageway in front of me, blocking my progress. The aerlig vines were an ancient type of magic, acting as a guard to check the purity of my intentions. One of them reached out and grabbed my arm, squeezing tightly.

  “Chill, chill,” I said.

  The vines were aggressive. If they didn’t approve of us, they’d wrap us up until someone came to cut us out. And since Mari and I were the only ones who had access to this place, we’d be here a while. Like, until we were dead.

  I pressed my still bleeding finger to one of the thicker vines. There was the briefest hesitation as the plant read my intentions and determined that I wasn’t here to do harm. It released my wrist and the rest of the vines parted so I could walk through.

  I raced onward, but not fast enough to avoid a slap to the butt by one of the feistier vines.

  “Hey!” I shouted back. “Mind your manners.”

  “It never will.” Mari followed me through the vines, and we hurried downward.

  The green glow changed to gold as we descended, until we were facing a section of the spiral staircase that was filled with tiny sparkling lights.

  Another security measure.

  I raced into the Lights of Truth, squinting against the brightness and feeling them brush against my skin, leaving a trail of heat. They froze me in place so I could no longer walk. Voices murmured in my ears, questions filtering through my mind.

  Do you mean harm?

  Are you evil?

  Will you cause destruction?

  They’d barely gotten the questions out before I said, “No.”

  I knew just what they would ask every time, and as usual, they approved of my answer and let me pass. They approved of Mari, too, and she followed close behind.

  I hurried through and continued downward, finally reaching the underground chamber that smelled of fresh water and pulsed with magic. A glowing blue pool sat in the middle of the chamber, approximately twenty feet across and the only thing in the whole room. It glittered invitingly, lighting up the wh
ole space.

  I raced for it, Mari behind me.

  Every demon slayer guarded a Well of Power—this was ours. Not only was it a conduit for our magic, allowing us to perform some mega powerful spells, but it was also a communication device that allowed the Council of Demon Slayers to contact us.

  Whenever we brought people down here to perform a spell—a very rare occurrence—we told them that we’d bought the well and property from a witch who wanted to retire to Florida and play Canasta.

  I didn’t even know what Canasta was.

  The truth was that the Council of Demon Slayers had given it to us, along with the house, when we’d agreed to join their mission.

  I stepped into the water along with Mari and gripped her hand. Chilly water lapped at my toes as magic swirled in the air.

  Together, we chanted, “Here we be, let us see.”

  The magic that swirled in the air glittered with blue light, moving faster and faster, a windstorm of sparkles that nearly blinded me. The air popped, and the magic disappeared.

  Suddenly, a figure rose from the middle of the pool. Ephemeral and strange, it looked like a cross between a ghost and a person.

  I smiled at her. “Hello, Agatha.”

  Agatha was my contact with the Council of Demon Slayers. She was a rare type of ghost who could travel through the Well of Power, and she was always the one to deliver news of the Big Bads who escaped from the Dark World, a part of the underworld that was so evil that the Council had been created to protect earth from it.

  “Aeri. Mari.” She nodded at us. “So good of you to dress for the occasion.” Agatha eyed my underpants.

  I shook my finger at her. “Don’t be a perv, Agatha. I know you like my panties, but you’ll have to control yourself.”

  The ghostly figure huffed, and I grinned at her, though I knew the smile didn’t reach my eyes. I was too worried about the news she was here to deliver. “What’s escaped from the Dark World?”

  “A necromancer demon,” Agatha said. “One who headed straight for Magic’s Bend, though I don’t know how long he’ll stay.”