by Kat Cotton
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Club Soho
Chapter 2: Harry McConchie
Chapter 3: Carnage
Chapter 4: Portia
Chapter 5: Bar
Chapter 6: Attack
Chapter 7: Kisho
Chapter 8: Twisted Games
Chapter 9: Nic
Chapter 10: Lemon Fresh
Chapter 11: Mustang
Chapter 12: Timon
Chapter 13: Makeover
Chapter 14: Nightclub
Chapter 15: Kisho
Chapter 16: Demon Fighter Council
Chapter 17: Warehouse
Chapter 18: Human
Chapter 19: War
Chapter 20: Fortune-Teller
Chapter 21: Liar
Chapter 22: Swell Guy
Chapter 23: Fight
Chapter 24: Defeat
Chapter 25: Zoo
Chapter 26: Lair
Chapter 27: Ray
Chapter 28: Unicorn
Chapter 29: Event Planning
Chapter 30: Kiss
Chapter 31: Warm
Chapter 32: Backstage
Chapter 33: Stage Fright
Chapter 34: Motivational
Chapter 35: Virgin
Chapter 36: Vampire King
Chapter 37: Trouble
Chapter 38: Orb
Chapter 39: Aftermath
Demon Child
Clem Starr: Demon Fighter Book 1
Kat Cotton
Contents
Chapter 1: Club Soho
Chapter 2: Harry McConchie
Chapter 3: Carnage
Chapter 4: Portia
Chapter 5: Bar
Chapter 6: Attack
Chapter 7: Kisho
Chapter 8: Twisted Games
Chapter 9: Nic
Chapter 10: Lemon Fresh
Chapter 11: Mustang
Chapter 12: Timon
Chapter 13: Makeover
Chapter 14: Nightclub
Chapter 15: Kisho
Chapter 16: Demon Fighter Council
Chapter 17: Warehouse
Chapter 18: Human
Chapter 19: War
Chapter 20: Fortune-Teller
Chapter 21: Liar
Chapter 22: Swell Guy
Chapter 23: Fight
Chapter 24: Defeat
Chapter 25: Zoo
Chapter 26: Lair
Chapter 27: Ray
Chapter 28: Unicorn
Chapter 29: Event Planning
Chapter 30: Kiss
Chapter 31: Warm
Chapter 32: Backstage
Chapter 33: Stage Fright
Chapter 34: Motivational
Chapter 35: Virgin
Chapter 36: Vampire King
Chapter 37: Trouble
Chapter 38: Orb
Chapter 39: Aftermath
Demon Child
Clem Starr: Demon Fighter Book 1
My life used to be so simple. Get in, outsex a pesky incubus and get out with the cash. The vampires changed that. I hate vampires.
Firstly, the Demon Child woke and went on a feeding spree. He’s strong, lightning fast and as cute as a button. I fight demons by using my sexual aura, which makes hunting a vamp who looks like a kid totally wrong.
Secondly, the new mayor wants the paranormal world exposed. Not only does that cut into my income, it will lead to open warfare.
Thirdly, the only ones paying me to hunt the Demon Child are a pair of vampires. Nic, the motivational speaker, I don’t know whether I want to kill him, screw him or cut off his perfect face and wear it as a mask. And Kisho, who would be the perfect man, if it wasn’t for his vampirism. Oh, and that he’s Nic’s bitch, when I want him to be mine.
The mayor wants me on his team, I’m under investigation by the Demon Fighter Council - working for the enemy is strictly forbidden and, for the first time ever, I doubt my ability to get the job done.
Could my life get any more complicated? Oh yeah, the Demon Child has a secret that makes him unkillable.
* * *
Other books in the Clem Starr series:
Moonlight Virgin (book 2) – release date 14 September
Vampire Prince (book 3) – release date 12 October.
Incubus – the pre-prequel short story from this series is also available on Amazon.
And, to get a free copy of Sex Demon, the prequel to the Clem Starr series, join my mailing list.
Chapter 1: Club Soho
When Portia Manchelli called me at 4 a.m., I thought it pretty damn rude. I hadn’t heard from her in about five years, for starters. Well, there was that time she invited me to her baby shower. Why, I’ll never know. I’m not a “baby shower going” person. I’m not a “keeping in touch with people I went to school with” person, even. But, at least I’m an “awake at 4 a.m.” person.
Not that I was doing anything exciting. I don’t sleep good these days, so I’d been cleaning my jewelry. You wouldn’t believe the gunk you get mushed into it fighting demons. I didn’t have a lot of bling. A wolf head ring that a witch sold me at a market. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t a real witch. She’d said the eyes would flash if I was in danger. I’d been in danger about half a dozen times a week since I got it and those eyes had never flashed. Still, it was real silver, so if the pointy wolf nose didn’t do a bundle of danger, the metal could sizzle the skin off a demon. I also had a schorl ring for protection and a crucifix necklace. You had to have all your bases covered.
It took me a minute to get what Portia wanted.
“There’s something going on at Club Soho. The police won’t let us go down there. They won’t tell us anything.”
She stopped and took a deep breath. Long enough for me to wonder why she’d called me in the middle of the night to tell me this. Another drug raid, no doubt. They did them every so often.
“Cassie’s there.” She sobbed. “She’s not answering her phone, and we don’t know…”
“I don’t see how I can help.” Cassie was Portia’s younger sister. If she’d been busted for drugs, they’d be better off calling a lawyer, or pretty much anyone but me.
“It’s one of the weird things you’re involved in. That creepy stuff.”
She’d talk all night if I didn’t agree to check it out, and maybe there was some demon hunting money to be made. Better to be first on the scene than to be usurped by my rival, Harry McConchie.
Here’s the most important thing you need to know about demon fighting. It’s not a noble calling, it’s not about saving the world. It’s a job. You do the work, you get the money. People pay well to get rid of demons, just like they do termites and rats.
I took off my sweats, put on a skirt and some warm tights. T-shirt, leather jacket and a scarf. And my big kick-ass fighting boots.
I figured if the fuss at Soho wasn’t a drug raid, it’d be some girl who’d been lured into the back alley by a vamp or demon. I’d get down there and clean up the site, remove all traces of the paranormal, then hunt down the perp. All out of the public eye. These jobs for city hall were never that exciting, but they were my bread and butter, literally. At the moment, the fee for a job like that meant the difference between eating this month or not, and you needed a lot of carbs for demon fighting.
If I could pick up some work and put Portia’s mind at ease, I guessed it was worth the effort.
That girl in the alley wouldn’t be Cassie. I didn’t know her well, but she seemed too smart for that. Someone had told me recently that she’d been offered an internship with a big fashion magazine. Exciting stuff. She probably just hadn’t charged her phone, or was ignoring Portia’s calls. I’d ignore Portia’s calls if I was her. By the time I got to the club, she’d be at home in bed a
nd this would be a wasted trip.
On the way, one of those hipster coffee carts was just opening up, so I grabbed a cup of joe to warm me and keep me awake.
“Kenyan or Ethiopian?” the hipster asked me.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass. I want it hot and I want it strong, that’s all that matters.”
An ambulance screamed past as I waited for him. Damn sirens are way too noisy for this time of day.
The early morning air chilled me. Mornings, what are they good for? Sleeping is all. Sleep would be mighty fine around about now.
In my misspent youth, I’d have been leaving Soho around this time. Maybe alone, maybe not. This was the first time I’d arrived there at this time of day, though. Sober. With just a coffee in my hands.
How the hell had I enjoyed all those nights in a place filled with thudding music and cheap aftershave? Twenty-six is way too old for clubbing. I hung up my dancing shoes a few years back and took up demon fighting instead. I’d much rather slink around the streets hunting for misbehaving demons than deal with sleazy douche canoes. At least you can kill demons with no repercussions. And get paid for doing it.
When I rounded the corner, my coffee nearly fell from my hand. The street teemed with people. Ambulances. Cops crawling all over the place. Blue and red siren lights instead of the yellow neon sign flashing Club Soho. And, over it all, sobs and wails.
Across from the club, the mayor beamed down from a billboard. “Cleaning up Melbourne,” the billboard said. Ironic, considering. This was a mess even a swell guy like the new mayor would have trouble cleaning up.
You’ve seen those reports on the evening news of natural disasters? You know, the ones with the montage of images. Cops dragging people to safety, paramedics working to save lives, shell-shocked faces not believing this was happening to them.
This was just the same, only this disaster sure as hell wouldn’t be natural. And it sure as hell was no drug raid.
Shit like this didn’t happen in my town. Sure, it was a hotbed of paranormal activity, but there was a balance, an order. Sometimes vamps and other demons got out of hand and I got called in to sort things out. But they were one-off attacks, always kept on the down-low.
I rushed over to a group of clubbers all huddling around together. When I got near, I realized they were partitioned into the area by the cops, yellow tape holding them in.
Most of them wore skimpy outfits, bare legs on the girls, bare chests on the guys. Sometimes the other way around. Surely they’d get frostbite. Had no one had thought to open up the coat check? Why hadn’t they been sent home? Maybe they were witnesses, but having them in a place where they could watch the bodies being wheeled out on gurneys made no sense.
I walked up to the first cop I saw.
“I’m looking for a girl called Cassie Manchelli.”
“Everyone’s looking for someone here. Check out this mess. It’ll be a day or two before we can release a list.”
One girl with her arms wrapped around her called out to the cop.
“Can we go? Why are you making us stick around?” She sounded like she could barely hold it together, her voice rising with panic.
“Can’t. We’ve got orders.”
The paramedics pushed past with a stretcher. The mangled body hadn’t been covered. People screamed. A couple of girls near me hugged each other, trying to hide their faces.
It seemed as though the body was being flaunted. I’d been to some awful cleanup jobs in my time, but the MO was always to cover up. If there were witnesses, get them out of the way and convince them that they hadn’t seen the things they had.
“Janie?” a guy yelled and tried to rush to the body. A cop stepped forward, making sure he couldn’t break out of the herding area.
A girl clutched my arm.
“Are you going in there? My friend, Hana… I can’t find her. She’s not here…” The girl sobbed. “Help me find her.”
That reminded me why I was here. Cassie. Was she in the crowd?
I pushed my way through the clubbers, looking for her. I only had a vague idea of what she looked like. I hadn’t seen her since high school. I grabbed my phone out of my pocket, checking her Facebook. Luckily she’d posted tons of selfies. Long black hair. Healthy looking, like she played tennis. That could’ve been half the girls around me.
“Cassie?” I called out. “Cassie Manchelli?”
Most of the people around me were so shell-shocked that they wouldn’t know their own name let alone anyone else’s. Tear-stained faces looked up at me, as though I could give them answers.
“You’ve still got your phone? Let me use it?” some guy said.
He tried to swipe the phone from my hand, but I swung away from him.
Half a dozen faces turned to me, looking at me like starving men eyeing a steak. My phone. They’d had their phones taken from them? Fuuuuck. I needed to get the hell out of here before I got mobbed. I shoved the phone deep in my pocket, put my head down and rushed out.
“We’re all going to die,” a girl wailed.
I patted her arm. Awkwardly. Human contact like that didn’t come naturally to me.
“You should be fine now. So long as you don’t get hypothermia. Try to keep warm.”
I’d get no information out of any of these kids. They were too distraught. Hopefully, one of my contacts on the force was around. I climbed under the police tape. At any time, any of those clubbers could have done that. What would the cops do if they decided to leave? It’s not like the cops could control them all. Most of them were busy getting the bodies out. I guess people don’t like to defy authority.
As I walked toward the club door, one of the cops doing crowd control put his arm out to stop me.
“Get back over there,” he said, indicating the clubbers.
“I’m part of the investigation.”
He eyed me up and down, checking out my outfit. I didn’t know there was a crime scene dress code. If he had a clue, he’d realize this wasn’t club wear.
“Yeah, sure you are, girlie.”
I could’ve kicked his ass for that, but there were too many people around and that wouldn’t help get me inside. I’d need a distraction but, in the midst of this chaos, it’d take an almighty calamity to distract people any further.
And, as if made to order, everyone went quiet and looked in one direction.
A big black car pulled up. The mayor got out. Younger than he looked on his posters, handsome in a clean-cut way. Perfect teeth, perfect wavy hair, manly square jaw and a really well-cut suit. No wonder people loved him. He shook hands with people and patted them on the arms as he walked toward the club.
I made a run for the door, cutting through the starstruck crowd. Jeez, rein it in, people. This was a disaster area, not a fan meet.
One cop, more on the ball than the others, stopped me as I raced up the stairs to the club door. He grabbed my shoulders and tried to push me away.
“Get your hands off me,” I yelled.
As he let me go, the mayor walked toward me.
“Clementine Starr. You got my message? I’ve been meaning to call you since I came into office. We need to talk.”
I’d gotten no message from him, but he rested his hand on my arm and it reassured me. If anyone else called me Clementine, they’d get a punch in the face, but he was the mayor and this was an emergency. The mayor would take care of things.
Chapter 2: Harry McConchie
“You’ll have to wait awhile,” the mayor said. “But I want you to see this.”
I nodded.
“Go wait over by my car and finish your coffee. I’ll send someone for you when you can come in.”
I leaned against the mayor’s car, finishing my coffee.
Storm clouds started to gather. I huddled in my jacket, hoping the mayor would be back before the rain started. At least he’d do something about those poor clubbers gathered outside. They needed to be home, where it was warm, with their friends or family.
&
nbsp; I’d quit smoking a year ago, but I’d have killed a man for a cigarette. Hopefully, the mayor would be able to help me track down Cassie Manchelli.
My phone beeped. It was a message from the mayor asking me to come down here. He hadn’t been lying about that; the message had just been delayed.
A familiar shape sauntered down the street wearing a fedora. Bloody hell, Harry McConchie. That was the last thing I needed. I hate a lot of people in this world, but there is no one in this world I hate like I hated him.
There were two Demon Fighters in this town. One of them was made of awesome, and that was me. The other one was mediocre at best but had a shit ton of family money and connections. That was Harry McConchie.
I didn’t need his bullshit right now.
“Morning,” he said when he got closer.
I grunted.
“Come on, Starr, smile. It might never happen.”
If I had the energy, I’d have kicked him in the nuts. I didn’t owe anyone a smile, especially not that jerk.
“It already has. Look at this mess.”
I gave him a look that was the visual equivalent of a kick in the balls instead. Couldn’t he see the chaos all around him? Jeez, people said I lacked empathy.
“How’s work?”
“Fantastic,” I said. “I’m super busy. Don’t have time to scratch myself. I only turned up here today because I care about public safety. It’s really taking time out of my busy schedule.”
That was complete bullshit. I’d be lucky to have the money to make rent this month. I was not about to tell him that, though.
