by Julie Kenner
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
RAVES FOR
Deja Demon
“A delightfully different take on the paranormal romance theme that will leave fans thirsting for more.”
—Monsters and Critics
“Kenner’s excellent pacing whips the plot forward while keeping all the emotional turmoil intact. This showdown will change everything!”
—Romantic Times
Demons Are Forever
“[A] wonderful author…a fun premise…excellent characterization, intriguing stories, and snappy dialogue.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Fizzy . . . Kenner’s trademark cliffhanger finale promises further demonic escapades to come.”
—Publishers Weekly
“This is the third in Kenner’s splendidly creative series featuring Kate, whose wickedly amusing adventures in demon hunting are a pure paranormal delight.”
—Booklist
“This chapter in Kenner’s first-person, kick-butt adventures takes a darker turn, and a more serious tone, as Demon Hunter Kate Connor faces long odds and emotional turmoil. The terrific Kenner grabs you and doesn’t let go!”
—Romantic Times
California Demon
“Kenner continues to put her fun, fresh twist on mommy-lit with another devilishly clever book.”
—Booklist
“Sassy!”—Richmond.com
“Plenty of action and humor. Kenner is at her irreverent best . . . delightfully amusing.”
—The Best Reviews
“A fun paranormal adventure that definitely appeals to moms!”
—Scribes World
“More witty, funny, and poignant adventures from the marvelous Kenner.”
—Romantic Times
Carpe Demon
“I LOVED CARPE DEMON! . . . It was great fun; wonderfully clever. Ninety-nine percent of the wives and moms in the country will identify with this heroine. I mean, like who hasn’t had to battle demons between car pools and playdates?”
—Jayne Ann Krentz, New York Times bestselling author of Running Hot
“I welcome the novels that decide to be utterly over-the-top and imagine paranormal and superhero lives for their chick-lit heroines. Take Carpe Demon . . .”
—Detroit Free Press
“This book, as crammed with events as any suburban mom’s calendar, shows you what would happen if Buffy got married and kept her past a secret. It’s a hoot.”
—Charlaine Harris, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Sookie Stackhouse novels
“What would happen if Buffy the Vampire Slayer got married, moved to the suburbs, and became a stay-at-home mom? She’d be a lot like Kate Connor, once a demon/vampire/ zombie killer and now ‘a glorified chauffeur for drill-team practice and Gymboree playdates’ in San Diablo, California, that’s what. But in Kenner’s sprightly, fast-paced ode to kick-ass housewives, Kate finds herself battling evil once again. Readers will find spunky Kate hard not to root for in spheres both domestic and demonic.”
—Publishers Weekly
“A+! This is a serious keeper—I am very ready for the next segment in Kate Connor’s life!”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“Smart, fast-paced, unique—a blend of sophistication and wit that has you laughing out loud.”
—Christine Feehan, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Hidden Currents
“Tongue-in-cheek...fast-pacing and in-your-face action. Give it a try. Kate’s a fun character and keeps you on the edge of your seat.”
—SFReader.com
“Ms. Kenner has a style and delivery all her own…fun and innovative . . . [Carpe Demon] shouldn’t be missed.”
—Fallen Angel Reviews
“You’re gonna love this book! A terrific summer read with lots of humor and crazy situations and action.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Kenner scores a direct hit with this offbeat and humorous adventure, which has an engaging cast of characters. Car pools and holy water make an unforgettable mix.”
—Romantic Times
Titles by Julie Kenner
CARPE DEMON
CALIFORNIA DEMON
DEMONS ARE FOREVER
DEJA DEMON
DEMON EX MACHINA
FIRST LOVE
Anthologies
HELL WITH THE LADIES
(with Kathleen O’Reilly and Dee Davis)
HELL ON HEELS
(with Kathleen O’Reilly and Dee Davis)
FENDI, FERRAGAMO, AND FANGS
(with Johanna Edwards and Serena Robar)
Berkley JAM titles by Julie Kenner
THE GOOD GHOULS’ GUIDE TO GETTING EVEN GOOD GHOULS DO
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2009 by Julie Kenner.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
BERKLEY® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. The “B” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley trade paperback edition / October 2009
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Kenner, Julie.
Demon ex machina : tales of a demon-hunting soccer mom / Julie Kenner.—Berkley trade paperback ed. p. cm.
eISBN : 978-1-101-14529-6
1. Connor, Kate (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Mothers—F
iction. 3. Suburban life—Fiction.
4. Demonology—Fiction. 5. Domestic fiction. I. Title.
PS3611.E665D463 2009
813’.6—dc22 2009020288
http://us.penguingroup.com
One
“Stuart!” I shouted from my post beside the old Dakota tomb, as the black-clad figure sprinted toward my husband.
Stuart had been crouched near the ground, his forehead creased with concentration as he poked at loose dirt atop an ancient grave site. Now he lurched to his feet, turning as he reached for the dagger he wore sheathed at his hip. The kind of move you saw in martial arts films, where the hero thrusts out a leg and cuts down his opponent with one sweep, then springs on top of the bad guy and presses the tip of his blade to his neck.
My husband, unfortunately, is not an action movie star.
Neither is he a trained Demon Hunter.
And instead of catching his attacker on the approach, thrusting out and defending himself with his blade, my husband toppled backward onto his ass. A string of sailor-quality curses escaped his lips as he rolled sideways trying to avoid the wraith who now leaped through the air, landing with a thud on Stuart’s torso, knees on either side of my husband’s chest, and both hands tight around his neck.
“Kate!” Stuart yelled as I dashed forward. “This is not what we talked about!” He twisted under his attacker, his predicament illuminated by the single lamppost in this section of the cemetery. “Off!”
Blue eyes under a black ski mask turned to me, and I nodded. The figure rose, peeled off the mask, and flashed a grin so wide and self-satisfied that I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I don’t have any more control over the demons than I do over my daughter, Stuart,” I said. “You’re the one who wanted to train.”
“Did I hurt you?” Allie asked, offering a black-clad arm and hand to her stepfather.
He took her hand and hauled himself to his feet. “If by hurt you mean that I got my ass kicked by a fifteen-year-old kid, then, yeah, I guess you hurt me.”
“Sorry.” Her lips twitched. “But I’m not fifteen until next week.” She turned deliberately to me. “And I want a video iPod and my own dagger.” She turned, indicating the ivory hilt of the blade sheathed at the small of her back. “Not another one of your old ones. Mine. Unless you’d rather get me a crossbow?” she added, hopefully.
“I’ll get right on that.” I turned my attention back to Stuart. “Don’t blame Allie,” I said. “I told her no-holds-barred.”
“I could have stabbed her!”
“Your dagger’s rubber.”
“Something else we need to discuss,” he said, irritably. “Allie’s packing some serious steel.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and cocked my head, my expression one I used on the kids at least daily. A little fact that, considering the way he was eyeing me, wasn’t lost on Stuart. “She’s logged over a hundred training hours with that thing,” I said, compelled to soften the blow to his ego.
“I know,” he said. “I do. But I’m in a cemetery in the middle of the night in a town that apparently breeds demons. I’d like to go out armed with something that packs a little more punch than one of Timmy’s toys.”
The dagger did, in fact, belong to our toddler. A souvenir from a recent trip to SeaWorld. Either that or Peter Pan paraphernalia from the Disney Store. Honestly, it’s hard to keep track.
“We’re training, sweetheart,” I said. “Like you said. Non-lethal is a good thing.”
He grimaced, undoubtedly embarrassed by the fact that he’d been taken down by a girl who, on some level, probably considered this whole gig fair payback for various groundings and television bans over the years. Even so, his inner politician shined through, and he flashed Allie a genuine smile, the kind that made his eyes twinkle with pride. “At any rate, it was a nice move, kid. Your mom teach you that?”
“Cutter,” she said, referring to our martial arts instructor. “But Mom’s definitely got the moves,” she added loyally.
Stuart glanced my way, his eyes soft. “Yeah,” he said. “She does at that.” He held out a hand, then tugged me close, and I sank against him, this moment of spontaneous affection reminding me that Stuart still loved me despite the secrets I’d kept from him. Despite the fact that he’d never really known the woman he’d married.
My name is Kate Connor, and I’m a Level Five Demon Hunter with Forza Scura, a secret arm of the Vatican that, at least in my hometown of San Diablo, California, isn’t quite as secret as it’s supposed to be. It’s a whole, big, complicated thing, but ultimately it boils down to my recent return to active duty after a fifteen-year retirement.
Not that I’d been looking to return to the workforce. I’d been perfectly happy living a quiet suburban life with my not-so-quiet teenager and my even less quiet toddler. But when a demon explodes through your kitchen window intent on killing you, it kind of changes a girl’s perspective, you know?
So, yeah, I’d got back on the job, in secret at first, though my best friend and my daughter learned the truth soon enough.
With Stuart, though, I’d clung to anonymity long after it was prudent to do so. The secrets had started to strain our marriage, and when Stuart finally learned the truth, he’d reacted with anger and fear. My heart still pinched when I recalled how he’d taken our son, Timmy, and moved out of our house, claiming that remaining with me was far too dangerous for a toddler.
I’d been heartbroken and furious. But once I’d calmed down and been able to think rationally, I had to admit that Stuart’s fears weren’t irrational. No matter how you sliced it, my secret profession boasted a high mortality rate. And trust me when I say that demons aren’t squeamish about using civilians to achieve their own ends.
Then Stuart had come back, wanting to strengthen our marriage. Wanting to make things work. I’d cried tears of relief even as I’d silently smothered the guilt brought on by my joy. Because no matter how I tried to spin the situation in my head, there was no escaping the fact that Stuart had brought my baby back into evil’s crosshairs.
I’d fight it.
I’d do everything in my power to prevent it.
And I’d hunt down like a dog any person or creature who threatened my kid.
But none of that changed the basic paradigm that the world was a dangerous place. Mine, more than most. And every day I did my job—every time I eradicated another smidgeon of evil from the world—I was ramping up the forces of darkness against myself and my family.
They were keeping score, the bad guys.
And one day, I knew they’d come to settle.
I shivered, and Stuart’s arm tightened around me, bringing me back to myself and making me focus on the issue at hand. In the demon-hunting business, distraction could get you killed. And though we might only be training, it was a lesson I’d be wise to take to heart.
“So what did you do wrong?” I asked, moving away from him as I slid into my instructor persona.
“Other than wandering around a pitch-black graveyard, you mean? I shifted my focus. The ground caught my attention. I started thinking back, remembering the zombies. And I let down my guard.”
“Good analysis,” I said, duly impressed. When Stuart had first insisted that he wanted to train, I’d said no. My husband’s no wimp, but at forty-two, and with a gym regimen that consisted of sporadic racquetball games with his buddies from the office, I wasn’t certain he was the best candidate.
More than that, notwithstanding the rather huge secret I’d kept from him, our marriage had always been one of equals. And I didn’t relish the idea of being suddenly in that power position, correcting his technique with weapons, or forcing him to run another mile.
He’d insisted, though, and when he’d pointed out that Timmy was safer with two parents who knew how to kick butt, I’d had no choice but to cave. And the truth was, he was doing great. He asked the right questions and had enough innate skill that the fight techniques and weapons training came eas
ily to him. Not that I was going to send him out to defend the house against a horde of demonic attackers, but he hadn’t injured himself with a knife or crossbow. And I considered that a damn good sign.
In the end, my fear about the shifting balance of power in our marriage turned out to be unfounded. Sure, there were awkward moments, but now that the bubble around my secret life had burst, I was enjoying the new experience of not having to squeeze my husband in around the edges of my reality.
And, yes, getting all hot and sweaty training together does have certain side benefits. And under the right circumstances, even learning to throw a dagger can be a damn sensual experience.
I knew that better than anyone, didn’t I?
I shivered, thoughts of my first husband, Eric, intruding where they really didn’t belong. Not now. Not with Stuart right there, the wounds on our relationship still raw and tender.
“They won’t be back, will they?” Stuart’s question caught me off guard and I cocked my head, confused. “Zombies,” he clarified. “You talked to Father Corletti, right? Worked out a way to keep the beasts out of here?”
“I did,” Allie said, the pride in her voice unmistakable.
We’d recently had a bit of a zombie infestation in San Diablo, and since I was keen on eradicating the smelly little beasts for good, I’d promised Allie a birthday party at her choice of venue if she could come up with a solution in less than a week.
It had taken her three days. And I hadn’t been sure if I should burst with pride at my daughter’s resourcefulness and brilliance, or cower in terror from the possibility that she’d want to hold her party at home. We’d be forced to sell the house simply because of the destruction wrought by two or three dozen partying teenagers. Either that or bring in a hazmat team for a week’s worth of cleanup.
