eBook Details

The Trouble with Demons

Series: Demon Guardian Series , Book 1.0
By: Terry Spear | Other books by Terry Spear
Published By: Terry Spear
Published: Apr 28, 2011
ISBN # 9781458176639
Word Count: 65,408
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Categories: Romance>Paranormal/Horror Romance>Romantic Literature Young Adult Fiction

Description
Alana is a half Kubiteron demon, half witch who witnesses a Matusa demon murder his summoners. He sees her in her astral form watching him and she's next on his list of victims.

Hunter is half human, half Matusa demon, fighting to keep the evil ones out of the human world. When he's poisoned, he sees the vision of a girl watching him, only she's not really all demon and not really all there. She offers to save his life, if he offers to protect her from one of his kind. But no lesser demon dictates terms to a Matusa.

Jared is a full Elantus demon, raised by humans, who's searching for his real parents. When Hunter saves his life, he vows his loyalty to him and designs a tracker device to locate demons entering the human world.

When Alana beats on Hunter's chest to get his heart beating again after he dies, twice, he knows the half demon is hot for him.

Often at odds, the three teens work together to stop the plans of a group of Matusa to take over the human race before it’s too late.
 
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Excerpt:
Chapter 1


“Why did we have to do it here in this stinking, filthy place?” a woman whispered. “Why not on the outskirts of Baltimore, somewhere in a field or something?”

“For the atmosphere. How can we summon a demon without having the essential mood?” another responded with derision.

Using white chalk, the two women drew a pentagram inside a circle against the black asphalt, over grease spots and globs of old gray chewing gum. In accordance with the summoning ritual, the third woman lighted the remaining fifty candles in the darkened alleyway between two brick buildings. A slight, humid breeze fussed over the flames, threatening to blow them out.

“Smells like rotting garbage. The heat and humidity have made my hair spaz. This long gown is making me sweat, and I’ll have underarm stains for sure. Real ambiance. Let’s hurry and get this done. I’ve got half an hour before I watch The Shining with Dennison,” the first said.

The second snorted. “Kim, after the demon does what we tell it to, maybe you won’t want to go back to mind-numbing Dennison.”

“Having the demon kill Clint at Saveway Grocers is the only reason we’re doing this, agreed? We get a new manager, end of story. Then we send the demon back.”

“Until we need him for another gig, Lillian,” the third one said, raising her brows to emphasize her wish.

Lillian cast them a wicked smile. “Yeah, that two-timing louse, Johnny Cantos, is next on my list.”

Kim didn’t look like she approved, but then changed her mind when the other two seemed adamant. “Sure, whatever.”

They pulled black hoods over their heads, then with their voices raised high, and the candlelight’s flames reflecting in their eyes, the women chanted, “Stirrus, Demononus, Seplichus, Protinalium, Horrita.”

The portal opened, filling the alley with shimmering blue-green light, and a brisk wind snuffed out the candles. Their gleaming teeth shown in giddy grins, and they began the rest of the chant. “Demon of Seplichus, we command you…”
* * *

Alana Fainot saw them in her mind’s eye and heard the women’s voices chanting in her head. They were attempting to bring forth a demon. Alana gritted her teeth, fighting the pull from the restaurant where she and her mother were celebrating the end of her junior year at high school. The portal opening somewhere down the street from where she sat sent a surge of energy rushing through her, and the roar of the wind filled her ears.

Everything faded—the Spanish music playing overhead, the aroma of Mediterranean dishes, steaming spicy paella and garlic chicken, making her mouth water. Conversation and laughter disappeared. The sound of her mother’s worried voice and the sensation of her hand patting Alana’s vanished.

She struggled to center herself, to return to the safety of the restaurant, but it was like a part of her melted away from her physical being, floated in pitch blackness, shifted into something surreal. Like a magnet, the demon gateway’s energy drew that disembodied part of her into the narrow alley.

Silence cloaked her like a deadly veil as her astral projection drew closer to the portal. An innate fear warned her if she got too close, the vortex could suck her into the demon world.

Transfixed in place several feet from the shimmering light, the three women she’d seen in her mind’s eye stared at the gateway. Wearing ankle-length, black dresses, their hair dyed the same color half hidden under matching hoods, and sable shadow covering their eyelids, the women appeared to be Goths in their mid-twenties. Not witches.

Foolhardy Goths.

Their mouths coated in grim-reaper ebony lipstick curved up, giving them a demonic appearance. The portal’s illumination danced off their eyes, completing the hideous look.

Rotting garbage overpowered the smell of burning candle wax.

Something scurried in the dark close to one of the brick buildings—a cat, maybe, or a rat.

The women chanted: “Demon of Seplichus, we command you, come unto us. We command you…”

Ice spread through Alana’s veins. In her astral state, what could she do? Nothing! She couldn’t save the demon from these women if it were one of the lesser ones, and if it was not… She shivered.

What if…if she pretended to be the demon they summoned…

She moved out of the shadows, but stopped. They couldn’t see her. She couldn’t prevent them from calling a demon. What was she thinking?

Then a demon stepped through the portal, his look amused in a sinister way. Long hair the color of bittersweet chocolate whipped across his chiseled face, half-hidden in shadows with the portal’s light at his back. His head held high, he commanded obedience.

Alana’s chest tightened as if a wall was crushing the breath from her. A Matusa, one of the Dark Ones. Shrinking back into the shadows, Alana shivered.

The gateway shut with a whoosh, silencing the brisk wind. Streetlamps stretched measly tentacles of light between the century-old buildings, replacing the portal’s light.

The women’s apparent fear mixed with heady elation. They had called forth a demon. They would wield the power of a dark lord. But not this demon. Never a Matusa.

Alana expected bedlam, and her heart shriveled. She couldn’t save the women, destroy the summoning book, or send the demon back. Why was she drawn to the portal if she could do nothing to help?

To witness the suffering? To show her how useless and insignificant she was? To prove once again she was some kind of freak?

The woman closest to the demon recited new words from the book, seeking him to do her bidding. The creature’s eyes glowed red, and Alana’s heart hitched.

He reached his hand out to the woman, tore through her dress, dug through her flesh. Her high-pitched scream died on her lips.

“Oh God, oh God,” Alana said under her breath, the blood pounding like thunder in her ears. Go, go, go! she screamed at herself. Paralyzed, she couldn’t shake loose of her astral projection.
The woman’s body slid down against a brick wall, but the demon continued his work. Crouching before her, he broke through the ribs with a crunching sound until he held her beating heart, still inside the chest cavity.

Sheer terror swept through Alana, the loss of control, the futility, the meaninglessness. Immersed in a horror flick—only it was way too real—she had no escape. A scream rose to her throat, and she clasped her hand over her mouth, tears filling her eyes, blurring her vision.
The Matusa ripped out the woman’s heart, rose to his full height, and held it up for the other women to see. His prize. His proof they couldn’t control him. With eyes blazing like fire, a smile curved his lips.

One of the women fainted. The other collapsed on her knees, begging for mercy.

Alana wanted to dissolve into the pavement.

The Matusa took a step toward the sobbing woman, tears running black rivulets down her colorless cheeks. The copper smell of blood now mixed with the candle wax and putrid rubbish wafting in the air. A light breeze stirred. The roar of a lion at the nearby zoo drifted overhead. But none of these took his attention from the woman.
None of these, except for Alana. He turned and stared straight at her, as if he could see her standing there in the dismal place. As if something about her had called to him, distracting him from his mission.

Holding her breath, she prayed he couldn’t see her, but his dark look bored straight into her, his fathomless eyes capturing hers, holding her hostage. Frigid fear stabbed her heart. Her astral form had morphed into something else.

Now, the danger knew her.

The Trouble with Demons

By: Terry Spear
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