Angie Fox - The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers

“One week,” she said, handing me a red slip.

“A week? I don’t have a week.” My uncle was in trouble now. And even if I could learn to levitate in a week, I didn’t know if I could pass the rest of the test anyway.

She skewered me with an exacting glare, as if she could pull me apart right there and examine my worth. Yeah, well I didn’t amount to much right now if I couldn’t even rescue my uncle.

Harleys thundered on the other side of the wall. What was I going to tell the Red Skulls?

Stone-faced, the Dragon Lady eased a long purple rod out of a side pocket in her pants. It had to be two feet long, jagged in spots, smooth in others. “You hold still,” she ordered as she came at me with the thing.

Yeah right. I could have run to Cleveland with the excess energy I was trying to hold back.

I forced myself to stay put as she came at me. The rod swirled with a life all its own. My shoulders tensed. I’d wondered where the magic was. Now I regretted wondering.

Whatever she was going to do with that thing was not going to be fun.

She touched it to my ear and I felt a cold energy seep through my head, down through my neck and arms.

“I thought you said the test was over,” I said, fighting not to flinch. Sure, she was stone-cold and possibly evil, but I didn’t think she’d hurt me. Probably . I fisted my hands and forced them to my sides, my fingernails slicing into my palms.

Get a grip.

This had to be standard procedure. If I was getting ready to face a soul-stealing she-demon, I could handle the dragon lady and her oversized stick. She gripped my chin with a chilly, freakishly strong hand. I clenched my teeth as she forced the rod farther into my ear canal.

I never thought anything would make me miss those standardized tests at the DMV. Those stubby pencils and—”Yow!” The rod stung like an icicle. I cringed, trying to ignore the low thwom, thwom, thwom of the gadget from hell.

“What is that thing?”

“You stay still.”

Easy for her to say. Something gooey trickled into my ear. My right hand eased down to my switch stars, just in case. Of course leveling a switch star at my DIP Examiner wouldn’t bode well for my licensing efforts.

Boots crunched up behind me. I tried to turn, but the rod in my ear made it impossible.

I heard a chuckle, which was almost worse than the thwom, thwom, thwom .

“Very interesting,” said a smooth male voice behind me.

“She failed.”

“I saw,” he replied. “It was like pitching a semitruck off a cliff.”

He moved to where I could see him, a man in his early forties with an overlong face, thick gray hair and a little too much amusement in his eyes. At least he looked human. He wore a standard beige DIP uniform and nodded at me like I should somehow know him. “You avoided a nail pit back there. That takes skill.”

“Enough to pass the test?” Maybe this was Dragon Lady’s boss. “I need to get my license in order to—”

His grey eyes twinkled. “I know why you’re going to Vegas, Miss Brown.”

“How?” I stammered.

“That doesn’t matter.” He dipped a hand into his front pocket and cocked his head sideways. “Officer Ly?”

She drew the rod out of my ear and I found myself rubbing at the spot where it had been.

He handed me a Kleenex. “You’re off the charts when it comes to natural ability. I’ve never seen the divining rod go blue before.”

I turned to see the Dragon Lady wiping it down with an alcohol swab. Sure enough, it sparkled with an eerie, ice blue light. And it had shrunk about a foot.

“What good is that going to do me if I can’t get my license today?”

The Dragon Lady balanced the rod on her clipboard and began scribbling. “According to your reading on the Augur Rod, you are in fact a demon slayer and therefore entitled to a Demon Slayer’s Learner’s Permit, to be used in the presence of an instructor as per the Demonic Licensing Code, subset C.”

Relief whooshed through me, along with the distinct feeling that I’d somehow regressed back to age fifteen. “So I can go to Vegas on some kind of a supervised program?”

She frowned. “You have an instructor?”

“Yes.” Grandma qualified. For the most part. “An excellent instructor,” I said, wishing I was right.

“You will wait inside for your permit to be printed, at a cost of twenty dollars, payable by cash, check or credit card.”

“Fine.” Pride is overrated anyway. At least I could finally do my job.

“You will leave the testing area.” The Dragon Lady turned on her heel, and I was about to follow her when the gray-haired man touched my arm, setting off a new wave of pain down my left side.

“With me,” the man added. “I’m Senior Officer Reynolds.” He delivered a smile designed to reassure, and I felt a warning tickle in the back of my brain. He reminded me of my high school principal, who had a way of making me feel like I’d been scheming, even when the wildest thing I did was play five card stud for pennies during lunch.

Reynolds winked, like he knew what I was thinking, and I decided right then and there I didn’t like whatever kind of power he had.

“If you’d like to step into my office, I have a proposal for you.”

Of course. Dread slicked through me. Everybody wanted something, although I wondered what Senior Officer Reynolds could possibly want from a demon slayer with a learner’s permit.

He led me through the side door of the DIP office and down a hallway behind the main customer area. Traces of magic lingered below the stained yellow ceiling tiles and I could almost sense something above. “This place only has one story, right?”

Officer Reynolds didn’t answer. Instead, he motioned me into a cramped gray room with a small industrial desk and two hard-backed folding chairs. “Have a seat,” he said, wedging himself between the desk and a potted plant he’d ambitiously placed between it and the cinder block wall.

I sat, arms over my chest, feeling the tug as a messy scab began to form on my chewed-up left arm.

Officer Reynolds leaned forward, his hands clasped together. “I understand why you’re suspicious. Everyone wants something from a demon slayer, right? Well, I promise I won’t delay you or put you in any more danger than you’re already in.”

How comforting.

He ignored my apprehension. “Word is that you’re heading into Las Vegas to take out a succubus.”

I nodded. “One has her claws in my uncle.”

He tented his fingers. “With a learner’s permit, you are allowed to attack if provoked—in the presence of your instructor, of course. However, I suggest you lure her out of the city before you attack.”

“Why?” Spilling demon blood could disrupt gravity for a few seconds, maybe startle a couple of folks in the immediate vicinity, but quite frankly, that was the least of our problems.

“I’m sure you understand that we’ve always had a succubi issue in Las Vegas. It’s what lends the city its charm, really, that ‘devil may care’ attitude.”

I stared him down, refusing to believe a demon could be charming.

“Nevertheless,” he said, straightening in his chair, “it’s gotten a bit out of hand. We started with six. At last count, we had thirteen.”

Holy Hades. I couldn’t clear out that many. Not that he’d asked.

With a start, I realized why he’d suggested I lure my uncle’s she-devil out of the city. If the succubi learned of a slayer in Las Vegas, they’d swarm me. I’d have no shot—not against that many. “How’d it get so bad?”

Officer Reynolds cleared his throat. “Time, a lack of options. The Department for Intramagical Welfare has studied the situation extensively and determined it isn’t worth the risk. The demons police themselves… somewhat,” he said, fingering his collar. “Never mind.”