Angie Fox - The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers

Ice trickled through my veins. “What do you mean invasion?”

I almost didn’t want him to answer. Because deep down, a part of me had already known.

“Come on,” he said, “I’ll show you.”

I could feel the demons the minute we slipped past a cut in the fence, near where we hid the car. There was no mistaking the pungent stench of sulfur in the night air. Along with it, the hint of rot, decay—of utter wrong in a place that hadn’t been quite right to begin with.

They waited. For what, I could only guess.

Being in the middle of the desert at night reminded me of the quiet after a storm. Back home in Atlanta, crickets, frogs and all sorts of nocturnal whatnots screamed until dawn. I’d always taken it for granted. Night = noisy. That was when I hardly believed in the devil, much less met one.

The oppressive stillness was unsettling on a fundamental level. I couldn’t figure out why until my mind trickled back to the last time the silence of a place had swallowed me whole.

I’d been with Dimitri in the wastelands of hell.

Just where was Max taking me?

Our dress shoes sounded like army boots as we crunched over the crumbling parking lot. Scraggly weeds scratched at my ankles and large cracks tore at my heels. Signs reserving spots for VIPs and visitors lolled drunkenly. The building itself hunkered like a large, dark beast, stark against the endless desert behind it.

I wished we were alone, that I didn’t feel something watching us from behind the darkened windows.

Reaching out with my mind, I tried to locate the diciest hot spots, or heck, anything that felt like attacking. I almost preferred a straight-out fight to sneaking around waiting for something bad to happen.

The worst of the malevolence rested low in the building. And it was very, very angry.

“What in the world happened here?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice above a whisper.

“I came,” Max said, flatly.

Sometimes, a half answer is worse than no answer at all.

He led me behind a row of dead bushes at the edge of the parking lot and past an old prison cemetery on the side of the building. The chill of the desert sent goose bumps skittering up my skin. I hadn’t planned on exploring a demonic, abandoned penitentiary tonight or I would have worn something more than my purple silk dress.

Max had talked about an invasion of succubi. Had the battle already begun?

My throat caught at a blur of movement in one of the windows ahead of us. A dazzling red orb hovered behind the chain-linked safety glass.

“Max. Look.”

He followed the direction of my outstretched finger, alarmingly unconcerned. “That’s not one of ours.”

I stiffened. “Ours?”

He arched a brow. “You are a demon slayer, right?”

Bad question. My reply hitched in my throat. It was just as well. It took me a moment to realize his attempt at a joke. Let him figure out later that I probably couldn’t kick his ass.

Max clicked open the padlock on a side entrance and led me into a large industrial kitchen. I inhaled stale air, mixed with the last of the fresh as he eased the door closed. Darkness consumed us, save for the scarlet light of an orb as it hovered over the chef’s serving station.

The thing practically pulsed with energy. “Is that the same one?” I asked.

I stood in the dark and listened as Max locked us in. “Don’t waste your energy. Unless they attack.” He handed me a Mini Maglite. “Shine it down, away from the windows.”

Annoyed, and more than a little scared, I flipped on my light. The beam, surprisingly strong, illuminated the black safety mat in front of me, as well as the giant ladles, serving spoons and tongs hanging over the metal counters on each side of us.

My heart fluttered as the orb approached me low, like a mountain lion stalking its prey. I hadn’t even realized I stopped breathing until I started again with a gasp. It flared and circled around behind me, a glowing ball of malice off my left shoulder.

Be strong.

“ Look to the Outside ,” I said to myself, trying to find comfort in my Demon Slayer Truths. “ Accept the Universe .” Okay, we could skip the last one— Sacrifice Yourself .

“Be strong,” I repeated out loud.

Because whether I liked it or not, my white knight was AWOL. I was the only one who could rescue me. And it was not the time to let Max know I was on a learner’s permit.

“This way,” Max said, not even bothering to make sure I followed.

His brisk, even stride forced me to jog a half step behind as we left the kitchen for a neglected service corridor. The orb matched my pace. I’d ignore it unless it attacked, which was easier said than done. It hovered at the edge of my vision, a constant threat.

Our flashlights cast milky circles on the cement-block walls. I was hyperaware of every cell in my body as my heels clacked in a steady rhythm against the linoleum of the endless passageway. It was almost as if something waited for us to get closer, to cut ourselves off completely before it made itself known.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said, when my light found a gaping stairwell, a scant few steps head. It led straight for the mass I’d felt.

Max ignored me, rumbling down into the darkness.

I’ve never been overly religious, but I made the sign of the cross anyway as I paused at the top. Now was not the time to give in to claustrophobia. Sulfur tingled my nose, along with the unmistakable rot in the air. Each step down into the dark abyss felt like sinking farther and farther into black water. Our lights barely penetrated the pitch dark of the place as we took the first stairway, the second, the third. The orb, if possible, seemed to glow brighter.

“It’s a good repellent,” Max said, shattering the silence, nearly causing me to fall down the last six steps.

“What?” I asked, grasping for the banister. “The flashlight?” If so, I wanted a bigger one.

“The iron,” he said, as if I already knew.

“Are we talking about demons?” I asked, reaching the concrete floor of the prison basement.

Max flipped on the lights, blinding me with their brightness. “How much did you have to drink at that club, Lizzie?”

“Geez, nothing!” I said, shielding my eyes, willing for them to adjust faster. I blinked several times while Max stood waiting, impatience written across his angled features.

“What would we be discussing if it wasn’t demons?” He demanded.

Evidently nothing, which was peachy with me.

“Okay,” I said, giving my eyes a final rub, and the orb another check. It hovered off my right shoulder, eerily alive against the stained concrete walls. They’d been aqua once and still were in some places. In others, large chunks of paint peeled away like dead skin on the floor. A massive network of pipes loomed overhead. “Start from the top.”

Max scowled. Thank goodness he assumed my ignorance in steel making rather than in demon slaying, because he said, “I’m talking about the steel in this place—the bars, the doors, the grates, the holding cells. Steel is made from iron.”

“And iron repels succubi.” I tried to make a statement, rather than ask.

“That I can guarantee,” he said, shooting me a look that told me he’d been starting to wonder.