The Dangerous Book for Demon Slayers Read Online Free PDF Page A

switch star for every time…
    Well, unfortunately, I did.
    Reynolds delivered a wan smile. Yeah, he knew what I was thinking.
    "We'll send a plainclothes representative to you. One of the
fairies."
    I have to admit I lit up at that. I'd never known fairies existed, much less
met one.
    He smoothed his short gray hair. "If you'd be so kind as to tell us how
bad the problem has gotten," he said, sliding open the top drawer of his
desk, "I'll let you keep this, ahem, guide until your next exam. You can
study up," he said as he flipped through the official
DIP Guide to the
Demonic Licensing Exam, Volume 3
.
    Guide? This was an antique, done in purple mimeo type. I picked it up and
flipped through the yellowed pages. "Is this your latest version?" I
asked. "There's a diagram of a garter belt switch star holder in
here."
    Officer Reynolds had the decency to look embarrassed. "The book was
printed the last time we had a slayer in town. A pair of them,
actually—back in 1936. After that?" He shrugged.
    Yeah, yeah. I knew. Everybody wanted a demon slayer—nobody wanted to
train one.
    I knew there weren't a lot of us out there, but, "Why is there no
updated instruction book?" I asked. "How is it you have printed
pamphlets out in the lobby for basic witchcraft, exorcism"—Reynolds
snorted, but I kept going—"Heck, the library stocks spell books.
Ever heard of
Divination for Dummies
? I have. Then there's
Voodoo
for Dummies, Druids for Dummies, Alternative Magick for Dummies
. I can
learn how to brew up "protective" bath bubbles, but when it comes to
saving people from the scourge of hell, I have to wing it?"
    He raised a finger. "You don't wing it," he said, the lines on his
face deepening. "You listen to your instructor."
    If I'd listened to my instructor, I'd be in Vegas right now, probably being
ambushed by about a dozen she-demons. We'd almost messed up. Bad.
    I was tired of taking chances.
    I always had a plan—except when we ran into scary magical creatures
that wanted to kill us. No more. I was going to take control. I'd start a
diary. No, a guide. I'd seen
The Dangerous Book for Boys
in every
store from Mississippi to here. I'd create my own manual.
The Dangerous
Book for Demon Slayers
.
    In it, I'd record everything I knew (not much) and start filling in the gaps
from there. The more I thought about it, the giddier I became. I could study
how fast and far switch stars could go. There could be a whole section on
magical creatures, forbidden and otherwise. I could make modifications to my
utility belt, starting with the critter that lived in the back and liked to
chew holes in my nightshirts. I could find other slayers. I knew we were rare,
but it was all the more reason to stick together. When we supported each other,
demon slayers across the world could fight harder, be more efficient.
    I could control my life and my destiny
—
one color-coded
binder at a time
.
    The 1936 handbook would offer a decent start. I flipped through the old
book. Sure, I could probably lose the section on demonic jazz clubs and demon
activity at the dedication of Boulder Dam. Maybe keep parts on how imps had
been trained to drive cars. I hadn't realized they were so smart.
    I squinted. Lo and behold. "Are these recipes in the back?"
    "Don't let the outmoded wording fool you. There's some good information
in there." He hesitated. "I know you're desperate."
    "Look, I might not be able to levitate—" and maybe I'd
seemed a bit frantic when I thought they were going to refuse to let me into
town…
    His smile was grim. "You're bringing a griffin into Las Vegas. I know
you're desperate."
    "Never mind how you know about Dimitri," because somebody was
certainly a snitch, "but why shouldn't I bring a griffin into Las
Vegas?" As far as I could see, my strong, steady boyfriend was my best
shot at getting out of there alive.
    "Griffins are of the sun, the light. Energy, power flows from them."
    He had that right. My body warmed just thinking of