Jana Oliver - The Demon Trappers Daughter: A Demon Trappers Novel (Demon Trapper Novels)

Acknowledgments

All the hard work comes down to this moment. Trust me, this is the fun part!

First a big hug and a heartfelt thank-you to my dear friend P. C. Cast, who kept murmuring young adult in my ear when I was first thinking about this book. Her daughter, Kristin, offered sage advice and made my teens sound their age, rather than like, well, old. All of this effort would have been for naught if my savvy literary agent, Meredith Bernstein, hadnt believed in my stories and found them a home. Jennifer Weis, my editor, and her assistant, Anne Bensson, along with editor Hilary Teeman and production editor Lauren Hougen, deftly herded this author through her New York debut experience and made this the best story possible.

Thanks also go to Ilona Andrews, who shared writing tips, and Gordon Andrews, who helped me establish Denver Becks military background. William McLeod made Master Angus Stewart sound like a Scotsman and Oakland Cemetery provided the perfect backdrop for my series. A round of applause (and a stiff drink) is needed for my long-suffering beta readers and critique partners Nanette Littlestone, Aarti Nayar, Dwain Herndon, and Jeri Smith-Ready, along with Jean Marie Ward and Michelle Roper, who supplied me with manuscript advice and all those no, your book doesnt suck pep talks. And finally a moment of sincere gratitude that the great city of Atlanta hasnt suggested I move to another state. At least not yet.

Since the beginning Ive had one man in my corner and thats my husband, Harold. I wouldnt be here without him. Dreams are always richer when theyre shared.

ONE

2018

Atlanta, Georgia

Riley Blackthorne rolled her eyes.

Libraries and demons, she muttered. What is the attraction?

At the sound of her voice the fiend hissed from its perch on top of the book stack. Then it flipped Riley off.

The librarian chuckled at its antics. Its been doing that ever since we found it.

They were on the second floor of the university law library, surrounded by weighty books and industrious students. Well, theyd been industrious until Riley showed up, and now most of them were watching her every move. Trapping with an audience is what her dad called it. It made her painfully aware that her work clothesdenim jacket, jeans, and pale blue T-shirtlooked totally Third World compared to the librarians somber navy pantsuit.

The woman brandished a laminated sheet; librarians were into cataloging things, even Hellspawn. She scrutinized the demon and then consulted the sheet. About three inches tall, burnt-mocha skin and peaked ears. Definitely a Biblio-Fiend. Sometimes I get them confused with the Klepto-Fiends. Weve had both in here before.

Riley nodded her understanding. Biblios are into books. Rather than stealing stuff they like to pee on things. Thats the big difference.

As if on cue, the Offending Minion of Hell promptly sent an arc of phosphorescent green urine in their direction. Luckily, demons of this size had equally small equipment, which meant limited range, but they both took a cautious step backward.

The stench of old gym shoes bloomed around them.

Supposed to do wonders for acne, Riley joked as she waved a hand to clear the smell.

The librarian grinned. Thats why your face is so clear.

Usually the clients bitched about how young Riley was and whether she was really qualified to do the job, even after she showed them her Apprentice Demon Trapper license. Shed hoped some of that would stop when shed turned seventeen, but no such luck. At least the librarian was taking her seriously.

How long has it been here? Riley asked.

Not long. I called right away, so it hasnt done any real damage, the librarian reported. Your dad has removed them for us in the past. Im glad to see youre following in his footsteps.

Yeah, right. As if anyone could fill Paul Blackthornes shoes.

Riley shoved a stray lock of dark brown hair behind an ear. It swung free immediately. Undoing her hair clip, she rewound her long hair and secured it so the little demon wouldnt tie it in knots. Besides, she needed time to think.

It wasnt as if she was a complete noob. Shed trapped Biblio-Fiends before, just not in a university law library full of professors and students, including a couple of seriously cute guys. One of them looked up at her, and she regretted being dressed for the job rather than for the scrutiny. She nervously twisted the strap of her denim messenger bag. Her eyes flicked toward a closed door a short distance away. Rare Book Room. A demon could do a lot of damage in there.

You see our concern, the librarian whispered.

Sure do. Biblio-Fiends hated books. They found immense joy rampaging through the stacks, peeing, ripping, and shredding. To be able to reduce a room full of priceless books and manuscripts to compost would be a demons wildest dream. Probably even get the fiend a promotion, if Hell had such a thing.

Confidence is everything. At least thats what her dad always said. It worked a lot better when he was standing next to her.

I can get it out of here, no problem, she said. Another torrent of swear words came her way. The demons high-pitched voice mimicked a mouse being slowly squashed by an anvil. It always made her ears ache.

Ignoring the fiend, Riley cleared her suddenly dry throat and launched into a list of potential consequences of her actions. It was the standard demon trapper boilerplate. She began with the usual disclaimers required before extracting a Minion of Hell from a public location, including the clauses about unanticipated structural damage and the threat of demonic possession.

The librarian actually paid attention, unlike most clients.

Does that demonic possession thing really happen? she asked, her eyes widening.

Oh, no, not with the little ones. Bigger demons, yeah. It was one of the reasons Riley liked trapping the small dudes. They could scratch and bite and pee on you, but they couldnt suck out your soul and use it as a hockey puck for eternity.

If all the demons were like these guys, no big deal. But they werent. The Demon Trappers Guild graded Hellfiends according to cunning and lethality. This demon was a Grade One: nasty, but not truly dangerous. There were Grade Threes, carnivorous eating machines with wicked claws and teeth. And at the top end was a Grade Fivea Geo-Fiend, which could create freak windstorms in the middle of shopping malls and cause earthquakes with a flick of a wrist. And that didnt include the Archdemons, which made your worst nightmares look tame.

Riley turned her mind to the job at hand. The best way to render a Biblio-Fiend incapable of harm was to read to it. The older and more dense the prose, the better. Romance novels just stirred them up, so it was best to pick something really boring. She dug in her messenger bag and extracted her ultimate weapon: Moby-Dick . The book fell open to a green-stained page.

The librarian peered at the text. Melville?

Yeah. Dad prefers Dickens or Chaucer. For me its Herman Melville. He bored the crap out of me in lit class. Put me to sleep every time. She pointed upward at the demon. Itll do the same to this one.

Grant thee boon, Blackthornes daughter! the demon wheedled as it cast its eyes around, looking for a place to hide.

Riley knew how this worked: If she accepted a favor shed be obligated to set the demon free. Accepting favors from fiends was so against the rules. Like potato chips, you couldnt stop at just one, then youd find yourself at Hells front door trying to explain why your soul had a big brand on it that said Property of Lucifer.

No way, Riley muttered. After clearing her throat, she began reading. Call me Ishmael. An audible groan came from the stack above her. Some years agonever mind how long preciselyhaving little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world.