Inside Jacket

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The world of Deadtown is haunted by demons. They come out at night: shrieking, howling, and tormenting the vulnerable. Vicky Vaughn, Boston's only professional demon slayer, is there to send your demons back into the ether–if you can afford her fee.

In Deadtown there are two kinds of demons: those that are conjured and those that have independent existence. Personal demons, the ones Vicky kills for her clients, are conjured demons. They don't exist until someone summons them and gives them form. The summoning can happen deliberately–as when a sorcerer conjures Harpies (revenge demons) and sends them to attack an enemy-or it can happen unconsciously. Without intending to, people can conjure their own demons.

How does that work? When you don't face a fear, worry, or regret, the issue tends to grow. It visits you as you lie in bed at night, creeping into your thoughts and maybe–if you manage to sleep–invading your dreams. The bigger the problem grows, the more demons it conjures. Personal demons gobble up fear, guilt, and other negative emotions like candy.

But Vicky's the demon expert, so I'll let her explain. In this snippet from Deadtown, Vicky is being questioned by two homicide detectives, Stephanie Hagopian and Daniel Costello. One of Vicky's clients is dead, and they want to know whether he could have been murdered by demons:

Hagopian jumped. Then she nodded and opened a notebook. She cleared her throat twice. "The death was . . . well, it wasn't normal," she said. "We know from documents found at the scene that you were there last night in your, ah, professional capacity. We'd like your opinion on whether Funderburk died as the result of a demon attack."

I shook my head. "I exterminated the whole pod. Besides, demons don't kill. They torment. That's how they feed. If the victim dies, the party's over."

"What do you mean?"

"Demons are conjured entities. They don't exist until someone invokes them. That someone can be a sorcerer out to hurt someone-that's where Harpies come from-or it can be the victim himself." Hagopian flinched, and I added, "Or herself."

"People conjure demons against themselves?" She raised a plucked-half-to-death eyebrow.

"Not on purpose. But strong feelings of guilt or shame or fear can bring demons swarming to a victim like honeybees to a rose garden. Eidolons are personal demons that feed on guilt. Drudes feed on fear. They're pretty similar, except Eidolons attack while you're lying awake at night and Drudes invade your dreams."

Hagopian shuddered, and I got the feeling she'd had a personal encounter with a demon or two. Too bad that now wasn't the time to make my sales pitch. Not that she'd be buying, seeing as how my last client turned up dead. I remembered his happy, off-key humming after the extermination. Poor old George.

"Harpies," I continued, "are revenge demons. Eidolons and Drudes can take many forms, but Harpies always look the same: They've got vulture bodies and Medusa heads, with snakes for hair and a beak for a mouth. They smell like garbage that's baked in the sun for a week. Their screeching"-I tried to find a way to describe the brain-shredding noise Harpies made, but there were no words for it-"well, their screeching alone can drive a person insane."

Both detectives were watching me openmouthed, like kids listening to a scary campfire story they didn't want to hear. Too bad. They'd dragged me here; they deserved all the juicy details. "Harpies attack from the outside. You're lying in bed, and suddenly you can't move. These hideous things-worse than any nightmare-fly through the wall and land on you, tearing into you with their talons. Then they begin to feed. It feels like they're ripping out your vital organs. The agony lasts all night. The next morning, there's no physical damage. But you can count on them returning night after night after night."

"What about the other kinds, the"-Hagopian consulted her notebook-"the Eidolons and the Drudes?" Her voice had diminished to a croak. Costello shot her a questioning look, but her eyes were fixed on me.

"Eidolons attack from the inside," I answered, "like you've got some huge, venomous parasite gnawing on your bones. Guilt brought to life. Some victims can see their Eidolons; others just feel unbearable agony. Drudes are unpredictable, like dreams, and they're the source of most nightmares. If you're plagued by horrible dreams, swarming with everything you fear, you've got a Drude infestation." I glanced at Detective Hagopian, who'd closed her eyes and was breathing shallowly through her mouth. Yep. Drude victim for sure. I turned back to Costello. "Demon attacks are terrifying and painful. Hell on earth. But they're not fatal. When a victim dies, that person's demons cease to exist. That's why demons don't kill."

But some demons do kill, as Vicky knows all too well. Those are the second kind of demons, the ones that exist independently. The worst of these are Hellions, demons that feed not from personal emotions but from widespread suffering and destruction. The plague that created Boston's zombies attracted a legion of Hellions to the city, and a magical shield was erected to keep them out. But somehow the shield has been breached and a Hellion now threatens the city. And not just any Hellion–this is Difethwr, the Destroyer, and Vicky has a personal history with the thing.

To see Vicky in action as she rids a client of nightmare-causing Drudes, read Chapter 1 of Deadtown.