Demon Read online

  But Insurance companies aren’t the only ones who can be wrong.

  The second explosion, tearing through the Morrison residence, shot the slightly scorched charm up out of the debris where it was caught a passing breeze. It floated over the rooftops of Backwater Ridge and came to rest on the steps of the Library, just as Miss Sanders was locking up for the day.

  The Librarian bent down to pick up the little charm, blowing the dust off its singed feathers. Then she looked up into the cloudless blue sky and smiled.

  “Gracious me,” she said. “It seems to be raining Dreamcatchers today. Well well. Far be it from me to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

  She popped the charm in her bag and trotted off down the path.

  “I think I’ll just take this home,” she said. “Hang it in mummy’s window. It’ll give her something pleasant to look at while I’m out at work.”

  Epilogue

  Lori sat combing her hair in front of the make-up mirror. She was immensely pleased with herself. She’d just taken five curtain calls. FIVE. Baskerville clutched under her arm, ruby slippers glinting in the spotlight, the entire audience on its feet, applauding wildly.

  Just like in her dream.

  She’d done it. She’d stopped the show.

  She hadn’t lost her looks and she hadn’t lost her voice. She was a success. In Backwater Ridge anyway. And hopefully further afield. When she’d come off-stage, a record producer from Santa Fe had been waiting in the wings, wanting to sign her up. She and Mr Quentin, who’d elected himself her unofficial manager, were going to the city to discuss terms on Saturday morning.

  It was all happening. She was on her way.

  After that one crazy week early in the summer, life in Backwater Ridge had returned to normal pretty fast. The Sheriff had recovered, although he still carried the devil’s mark. A scar in the shape of a scorpion. He’d been dating Marge for the last couple of weeks. Strange how things turned out. Nobody had been charged with the multiple murders. Perry had been cleared for lack of evidence. But now that he was long gone and so unable to defend himself, (and even though Rube Watson insisted that they were barking up the wrong tree), local opinion had it that it must have been ‘the breed’ after all.

  Small town. Small minds.

  The only other creepy happening had occurred in late August when Miss Sanders had wandered into Pearly Gates’ service station one moonlit night, wearing nothing but a blank look. Rube Watson, roused from his bed to take her home, found the elderly Mrs Sanders sitting up in hers, with a black silk handkerchief stuffed in her mouth and a mouldering breakfast tray on her lap. She’d been dead for over a month.

  “I’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t I?” Miss Sanders, incongruous in a pair of Pearly’s petrol stained coveralls, looked uncomprehendingly at the body suppurating between the sheets.

  “It was her own fault,” she added, peevishly. “She wouldn’t be quiet. I just wished she’d be quiet. Anyway, it was all his idea.”

  And when the horrified Sheriff had asked her who’s, she’d looked at him out the corner of her eyes and giggled coquettishly.

  “Mr Darcy’s, of course,” she’d said.

  The dressing-room door opened and Perry burst in, bounding over to the mirror, bending to nuzzle Lori’s neck. Behind him a gaggle of well-wishers and fans, thronging the corridor outside, started to wolf-whistle and cat-call. Lori was a senior now. The most celebrated senior in school. She didn’t have to put up with this kind of thing. She told Perry to shut the door. He ignored her.

  “Hurry up and get changed,” he told her. “We’re all going to the swimming hole for a party. To celebrate.”

  “Celebrate what?” said Lori, her mind on other things.

  Perry grabbed her chin, turned her face up to his, kissed her on the mouth. Raucous laughter and comments from the corridor. Even a round of applause.

  “Your triumph, of course,” Perry said. “You were great,” and then more quietly, looking deep into her eyes. “Almost as great as last night.”

  He grinned his heart-stopping grin. “Don’t be long,” he ordered. “Can’t keep your public waiting.” Then he sauntered back to the door, blowing Lori a final kiss before slamming it behind him.

  Lori stared at herself for a long time after he’d gone. Last night had been a damp squib as far as she was concerned. Perry had been more interested in himself than he had been in her. As for the swimming hole. She couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do less. She was still high from the performance. Needed time to get her head together. Think about her future.

  Yesterday evening, after dress rehearsal - which had been an absolute disaster - Lori had asked Perry to drive her to the State Mental Facility where Miss Sanders was destined to spend the rest of her natural life. He’d agreed - on condition that afterwards SHE agree to what he’d been angling for all summer. He’d waited outside for the half hour during which she and the librarian discussed Mr Darcy. What he looked like? When he’d first appeared? And before she left, Miss Sanders had given Lori a present. Seemed glad to be rid of it. It was hanging on the make-up mirror now, feathers lying limp in the heat from the surrounding light-bulbs.

  But although she was half expecting it, Lori had still been shaken by a cold shiver when, half way through the second chorus of ‘Over the Rainbow’ she’d spotted him, standing at the back near the door, large as life and twice as dangerous. Her heart had given a great lurch and she’d almost missed a beat. But after that the rest of the show had gone like a bomb.

  He was in the building now.

  She could feel him.

  She could smell him.

  She looked down at her make-up box, searching for her black eyeliner. When she looked up again he was there, standing behind her, one hand in the pocket of the black linen slacks, the snakeskin jacket slung casually over his shoulder, ochre eyes hidden behind the inevitable shades.

  “Hello Lori,” he said, quietly. “Long time no see.”

  “Hello,” said Lori, “How’s every little thing?”

  He grinned at her sauce. No doubt about it. The kid had guts.

  “So,” he said. “What’s it to be, babe? Hollywood or Hicksville?”

  “I still have a choice?”

  “Ball’s in your court.” He examined his perfectly manicured nails, as if her answer, whatever it might be, was of supreme indifference to him.

  What he didn’t know was that Lori had already made up her mind. Weighed all the options before coming to a decision. She’d thought hard about Wayne and the Sheriff; about Barney McGee with his guts scattered to the four winds; about Ted Morrison, his life insurance money set aside to take her through drama college, if that was what she wanted; about Tracey staked out as ant-fodder on Backwater Ridge. She’d also thought about Yellow Dog’s curse, about all the innocent bystanders who might get caught in the crossfire if she wasn’t very careful.

  Mostly, she’d thought about Miguel Coyote, how handsome he was. She was pretty sure he’d liked her. Under difference circumstances...but under different circumstances they never would have met...and anyway she had the feeling that somewhere along the line, they would meet again. Perry was proving a sad disappointment to her. He was so...so small town. So inept. Perry didn’t know it yet, but he was about to get his marching orders.

  Because Lori had also considered what her life would be like if she stayed where she was. Married at eighteen to the boy next door. Three kids by the time she was twenty one. The highlight of her week - Saturday night - her mom baby-sitting the rug-rats while she and the old man caught a flick and a burger down at the diner. Life over at twenty five. Marking time for the next fifty years. PTA meetings. Coffee mornings. Maybe a part-time job waiting tables for pin money? Safe – but oh so unbelievably boring.

  “I’ve already decided,” she said. “On Hollywood.”

  He smiled slyly then. A smile of triumph. The diamond in the scorpion tie-pin, reflected in the bright lights surrounding the dressing-
table mirror, winked at her.

  “But I’ve also decided that I’m going to do it alone,” said Lori, flatly. “I don’t need you. The deal is off.”

  The smile faded to be replaced by a look of thunderous fury. He ripped off his dark glasses (all the better to see you with, my dear) and... “A deal is a deal,” he snarled. “No get out clauses, remember?”

  Lori looked at his reflection over her shoulder. And now it was her turn to smile, the corners of her mouth turning up to reveal slightly pointed incisors. Her hair was much lighter than he remembered and her face had fined down considerably. In the strong lights, the gold stage shadow gave her luminous eyes a strangely yellow cast and he was suddenly struck by how alike they looked.

  Lori said nothing. She just opened the drawer of the dressing-table, took out a brown envelope and handed it to him.

  He undid the flap and slid the contents out. It was an old photo. A cheap reproduction taken in a booth somewhere. It had been ripped into shreds in a fit of temper, then stuck together again with sellotape. But there was no mistaking the features.

  He looked up at Lori. “Where did you get this?”

  “From my mother. She gave it me after Ted’s funeral.”

  “So you know?”

  Lori nodded.

  “So what?” he said, flipping the photo back at her like a playing card. “You think this gives you an edge? You think this alters things?” He sneered, curling his lip. “I hope you’re not counting on fatherly affection here? Because if you are you’d be wrong. Being my daughter doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference. A deal is a deal. I still own you. I own you, body and soul.”

  “No get out clauses?”

  “None.”

  “Haven’t you forgotten one important point?” said Lori. “Mom thought you were just a hit and run driver. She doesn’t know the truth. But I know different. I know who you are. I know WHAT you are.”

  “So?”

  “So I also know what I am.”

  “What are you?”

  “I’m my father’s daughter. I’m demon seed. And so there is no deal. You can’t own me body and soul. I have the best get out clause in the world...Daddy.

  I don’t HAVE a soul.”

  ###

  Demon 2

  Once bitten – forever dead.

  Wesley could have had it tattooed on his forehead – Victim First Class. He’s convinced that Camp Copperhead is going to be hell on earth and he’s not wrong – by the time he’s on the train he’s already been singled out by the smart-set bullies as the token loser.

  But then the Dreamcatcher turns up in his back pack, and shortly afterwards Louella makes her entrance. She’s the coolest thing Wesley’s ever met and, unbelievably, she seems to like him too. As if by magic his tormentors start to get their comeuppance. But vengeance comes with a price. Will Wesley be willing to pay it when it comes to the final countdown?

  Because in return for making all his dreams comes true, Louella wants them to be together not only ‘til death do us part’ – but afterwards as well...

  Available now at Smashwords…

  Other Titles by Samantha Lee

  If you liked Demon, you’ll want to read the other books by Samantha Lee currently available in e-book and paperback editions.

  The Belltower

  A paranormal mystery thriller set in Spain.

  The Bogle

  If you happen to be in Scotland and it's 'dark of the moon' then make sure you're nowhere near a crossroads at midnight. That's where an evil spirit known as the Bogle lurks. And if it catches you and puts its mark on you - you're destined to die within the year.

  Demon 2

  Wesley. The second in the dark fantasy series where dreams become nightmares as a long-standing curse is played out. The put-upon Wesley finds a way to get his own back on his tormentors and become top jock. Unfortunately the elusive girl who helps him make the change from loser to winner wants more than his affection in return.

  Demon 3

  E-book exclusive.

  The final chapter in the saga. 'Demon 3' is all about Melanie. Mel’s sister has always been ‘the pretty one’ but then she meets Lucille in the graveyard and her life takes an about turn. A charismatic fortune teller, Madame Cauchemar, predicts that she will be the winner of the local beauty Pageant. But only if she’s willing to make the supreme sacrifice. Will Miguel Coyote at last be able to beard the elusive Demon its den or will the Dreamcatcher escape yet again to continue to create havoc among the unwary?

  Find out more at www.samanthaleehorror.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Demon

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Demon 2

  Other Titles by Samantha Lee