Angie Fox - The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers

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“This way,” he said, leading me through what had been the kitchen laundry. The machines had been torn out of the walls long ago, leaving shadows of bare concrete and rusted pipes thrusting from the walls. “The older steel down here has an unusually low carbon count,” Max said over his shoulder. “It gives us an even higher concentration of iron. Believe me, we need it.”

Iron repelled succubi. Nice to know. If we got out of here, I was going to order Uncle Phil a pair of iron underpants. Double thick.

I watched Max’s wide back, the sliced shirt flowing against his muscles as he moved. Max could write The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers with his eyes closed. Of course, we’d have to rename it.

Burying the urge to ask more, I followed him through the labyrinth. Too bad I needed him to think I was badder than I was. For now at least.

But I couldn’t resist one giant presumption, based on the thick silver cross he wore. “And succubi are attracted to silver.”

“No. Platinum.”

“So that’s a platinum cross?”

He stopped.

“You have holes in your shirt,” I reminded him.

His suspicion faded, but it didn’t leave entirely. “I find it’s easier when they come to me,” he said tightly.

“Do they?” I asked, unable to imagine what a horrible life that would be.

“Sometimes,” he replied.

Max led me into another hallway, then stopped in front of a set of massive steel doors. In fact, I realized as I took in the whole of the place, the cramped hallway consisted of nothing but door upon door, at least twenty, down to a dead end. The overhead pipes didn’t even reach this far into the underbelly of the prison.

“The hole,” he explained. “It was put out of commission long before they ever modernized the place. Lucky for me,” he said with a little too much relish. “Each of these babies is a perfect steel box.”

The wards in this place were amazing. I didn’t even feel them until I touched the door nearest me. It stung like dry ice.

“Is this where the invasion starts?” I asked.

Max laid his hand, palm down against the door, hissing at the pain, welcoming it. “This is where it ends.”

Yeah, well I liked things spelled out better than that. “What do you want?”

He straightened like a Marine, his intensity admirable and frightening at the same time. “I need both you and your twin.”

“I don’t have a twin,” I answered.

“Damn it, slayer,” he snapped. “This is no time to bargain. It is your obligation, your destiny to destroy these creatures. If not, you’re going to see a slaughter the likes of which you can’t imagine. And if you think you’re safe because you don’t come from around here, think again. These demons will spread like the plague. Rest assured, if you don’t give your blood and guts to stop it, I’ll kill you myself.”

With a roar, he yanked the door clear open.

I didn’t even have time for a holy Sheboygan . Claws and teeth extended, the succubus screeched for me. I ducked and flung a switch star, catching her in the throat as icy lips descended onto mine. She exploded into a cloud of gray ash, but not before I felt her begin to tease out my essence, or was it my soul?

I rolled, crunching my shoulder into the wall as I grabbed another switch star, ready to throw. When I realized no more demons were coming for me, I leapt to my feet.

Nothing else lived and breathed in the corridor, except a smug-looking Max. “I thought so,” he said.

Adrenaline coursed through me. “What the hell are you doing?” I demanded. I wanted to scream, punch the wall, throttle him.

“I had to make sure you were who I thought you were,” he said simply.

Oh. Sure. Righty-o. “And if I wasn’t?” Or if I’d had a bad day? Or if my fingers had been too sweaty? Or if I’d sneezed at the wrong time?

“Then you’d be dead.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “This is war, Lizzie. And I’m playing to win.”

I wanted to scream as I shoved my switch star into my belt while keeping an eye on him.

“That was my most powerful prisoner.” He strode purposefully over the ashes scattered on the concrete floor between us. “You’re good,” he remarked, as if we’d just played a round of golf.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Maybe, but I’m still alive.”

My hacked-off state amused the man. Evidently, he’d been hanging out with she-demons for too long. Whatever he wanted from me, he was going to have to ask real friggin’ nice from now on.

“Are you set?” he asked.

Suspicion rolled over me. “For what?” I barked, hitching my final star.

“I’ve got more holding cells. Seventeen more demons. Want to go again or do you want to tell me about your twin?”

Oh for the love of Pete. “You can’t let it go, can you?”

He stared at me, dead serious. “This is war, Lizzie.”

“Fine,” I shouted. If we didn’t need him in this world, I’d switch-star him myself.

I blew out a breath. Chill out. Forget that he launched a soul-stealing demon at your head .

It was the first time I’d felt the urge to punch another human being. It would feel good. I knew it. But it wasn’t me. None of this was me. What did I do in preschool when I needed to calm down? I counted to ten.

“What are you doing?” He demanded.

“I’m counting to ten!” I screamed.

“Oh.” A smile quirked on his lips. “Well, that seems to be working.”

I ignored him and launched into the truth. Screw him if he didn’t believe it. “I wasn’t born to be a demon slayer,” I began.

“But you are the exalted—”

“Shut up and let me finish!” Criminy. No wonder this guy had to date she-demons.

I took a calming breath. “Every three generations, my family produces twin slayers,” I explained.

“Of course. You and…” he said.

“Me and nobody. Try my mom and my aunt,” I corrected. “And while my mom’s amazing family brought her up, loved her, flew instructors in from all over the world to teach her everything she needed to know, she spent the whole time figuring out a way to beat the rap.”

“I’ve never heard of that.”

“Well, now you have,” I said, with a tenacious hold on my temper. “My Aunt Celia died like a heroine while my mom passed her powers to me, dumped me off to be adopted and thought it would be the end of our line. Well,” I said, my anger filtering to my mom, “until the next poor saps a few generations later, which would actually be her great-granddaughters, not that she cared.”

Max watched me intently. “It must have been quite a shock as a child to learn that this, we, existed.”

Try last month. But I wasn’t about to tell him that.

“And you have no twin,” he said slowly.

I hoped it was finally sinking in. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” I said, none too charitably. “Now you mind telling me something?” I rubbed at the shoulder I’d jammed into the wall. “What in sweet creation are you doing down here? You don’t seem like the type to take prisoners. Why are you letting these things live?”

He sized me up, as if deciding how much to tell me. Considering the heaping helping of demon surprise he’d served back there, he’d better lay out the facts.

“When I was young, I was more rash.”

I had a girlfriend back in college who used to take forever to get to the point, but this guy took the cake. “Abridged version, please,” I said, planting my back against the wall. No way were these things going to get the jump on me again.

Max considered. “Maybe we should go someplace more comfortable,” he said. “Come on. My quarters are right through here.”