The Demon Collector Read Online Free PDF

him.
    ‘Lord above, I’ve never felt so hot in all my born days,’ he panted.
    Gradually, his breathing returned to normal. Aching muscles stretched and relaxed in the heat. He blew a few bubbles at Henry, who jumped and snapped at them.
    ‘You’re as mucky as me,’ Edgy said with a laugh. He grabbed the little dog and dragged him in. Henry gave a yelp and sank under the water, only to bob up again, fur spiky, tail wagging, splattering suds and water everywhere.
    Edgy slipped his whole head under, revelling in the feeling. When he came up for air, Trimdon must have been and gone as a suit of black wool hung on the back of the door, along with a shirt of thick cotton and a pair of boots that shone in the candlelight.
    ‘Maybe this ain’t such a bad place after all,’ he said to Henry, climbing out and rubbing at his tingling skin with a clean, dry towel.
    The terrier gave a muted bark and sniffed the air, licking his lips. The smell of warm, meaty gravy drifted into the room. Edgy’s mouth watered.
    ‘A feast, Henry,’ he whispered, pulling on shirt and trousers, drawn by the aroma of food. He snatched up and pocketed the salt and bone fragment.
    When Edgy emerged, Trimdon stood holding a plate of pork chops, mashed potato and gravy.
    ‘Tuck in, Master Taylor,’ Trimdon said, his pearly teeth gleaming even in the red glow of the hellfire lamps.
    Edgy smacked his lips. He sat with the plate on his knee, devouring the feast, throwing Henry chunks of the chops whenever he pawed the air for more. Edgy had never tasted anything like it. Food at the tannery was stale crusts, cheese and gruel. Now and then, Talon would get a few bones and boil them up but Edgy had never had such succulent meat.
    ‘So, Mr Trimdon,’ Edgy said, his voice thick with gravy, ‘you been with this Royal Society long then?’
    Trimdon smiled and inclined his head. ‘About a hundred years.’
    Edgy’s eyes widened.
    ‘I know, I know,’ Trimdon smiled, patting his little beer belly, ‘I hardly look old enough. The Society has been like a family to me.’
    ‘What kind of demon are you, Mr Trimdon?’ Edgy asked. ‘If you’ll pardon the question.’
    ‘A domestic demon.’ Trimdon puffed out his chest. ‘I watch the hearth and keep a fire burning. We’re not all about pitchforks and hellfire. Why I –’
    But Trimdon was cut short by Janus, who popped into the doorway and stood there beaming.
    ‘Perfect fit, Trimdon, another job well done,’ he smiled, testing the quality of Edgy’s suit material with his finger and thumb.
    ‘Thank you, sir.’ Trimdon seemed to grow another inch as he stood tall, hands behind his back. ‘Hand-stitched, finest quality.’
    ‘Right then, young man,’ Janus said, taking Edgy’s shoulder and leading him into the corridor. ‘Let’s show you to your room. You’ll soon feel at home.’
    ‘Now listen, Mr Janus –’ Edgy started to say.
    A blur of red hurtled down the passage. It seemed to Edgy that the hellfire lights had detached themselves from the ceiling and were flying towards him.
    ‘Vandal! Thief!’ someone screeched.
    Edgy felt a dull pain in his stomach and found himself rolling backwards across the floor as long red fingers closed around his throat.

There was an old farmer in Sussex did dwell,
    There was an old farmer in Sussex did dwell,
    And he had a bad wife, as many knew well .
    Then Satan came to the old man at the plough :
    ‘One of your family I must have now.
    It is not your eldest son that I crave,
    But it is your old wife, and she I will have .’
    ‘The Farmer’s Curst Wife’, traditional folk ballad

Chapter Five
    The Unwelcome
    A glowering red face snarled down at Edgy, its long nose pressed against his. Orange eyes burned with fury and stubby little horns butted his forehead. The fingers tightened and, for a moment, it was as though he was back in Talon’s merciless grasp.
    ‘Give them back, you thief!’ snarled the demon, pinning him to the floor. ‘Where