Demon Master: Summoner Trilogy, #1

By M.L. Devereaux

She thought she could pay the price...

 

 

Ever since her parents were taken by a demon, Cassandra's been hell-bent on freeing them from his clutches. The demon that took them wasn't just any demon, though. It was Ashmedai, the king of demons himself. Every night Cassandra summons a random demon, hoping to wrest from him the secret to summoning—and defeating—the Demon King.

 

But when the Vampire Tribunal gets wind of her nightly activities, she is forbidden from pursuing her goal. If she doesn't comply, it would mean the death of her vampire guardians, siblings Sam and Riika.

 

At her wit's end, she decides to enlist the help of the local Demon Master, a decision that comes with a price greater than she had ever imagined...

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Vampire Diaries meets Supernatural in this captivating tale of family, friendship, and sacrifice

 

Get it now!

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Praise for Demon Master

"The whole book is full of exciting twists that make you want to keep reading."
"A story packed with action and mystery. A story about love, romance, friendship and the supernatural world. Plenty of ingredients to satisfy you as a reader."

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.L. Devereaux
• Release date: Aug 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201907464

Book preview

Goetia is the practice that involves summoning demons. The use of the term originated in the seventeenth-century grimoire The Lesser Key of Solomon. The first part of this grimoire is the Ars Goetia, which describes the seventy-two demons that Solomon is said to have summoned and imprisoned in bronze vessels, sealed with magical symbols. The Ars Goetia gives each member of the infernal hierarchy a rank and title of nobility.

Chapter 1

Ifinished the protection circle, which was in fact a simple chalk circle on my living room floor. Twelve black candles outlined it at roughly equal distances. I’d used most of them before. Two were new, straight out of the box. Like big sisters they towered over their flat-stumped siblings.

About two feet away from the circle I knelt and placed a thirteenth candle—also new and black—on the floor beside me. One by one I lit them, flames bobbing to the rhythm of my breathing. I pressed my lips, not wanting to accidentally blow them out. Then I took my IKEA kitchen knife in my right hand. The black plastic handle felt rough because I’d put it in the dishwasher a few too many times. Apparently Swedish plastic isn’t made to withstand frequent exposure to high temperatures.

An actual athame, blessed by a priest, would have been better. But those usually weren’t advertised on the internet with a fifty percent discount. So my chef’s knife would have to moonlight as a sacrificial knife for now. 

I clutched the little piece of paper with the summoning spell in my left hand. I’d studied the words so hard I could dream them. But I wasn’t taking any chances. At times a demon would try to upset their summoner in such a way they’d blank out on the words, giving the demon the opportunity to break free from the circle and kill its summoner. I’d come across some images depicting the slaughter. They’d been a great incentive to study very, very, very hard. I wasn’t keen on ending up a bloody mess on my laminate flooring. In theory, Lesser Demons weren’t strong enough to break free, but I decided I’d err on the side of caution. So the paper stayed in my hands. My coffee-stained cheat sheet.

I closed my eyes and focused.

Then, articulating slowly and clearly, I spoke the invoking words:

Lord of Darkness, come to me. Hear my command, taste my blood. I cut the palm of my hand with the improv sacrificial knife, taking a deep breath. That hurt! Blood welled up immediately. This is my offering to you. Come and receive it.

I balled my hand into a fist, and, clenching my teeth, tried to ignore the pain that soared up my arm as best as I could. Then I let three drops of blood fall on the candle beside me. These drops symbolized the bond between a summoner and the demon: presence, obedience and truth. The candle hissed and as the flame turned into a red glow, the flames of its brothers and sisters on the circle did the same. The smoke grew thicker and edged to the center of the circle where it packed together to form a hazy, round shape. Slowly it solidified. Two arches at the top of the smoke cloud turned into horns. Two goat-like hooves appeared on the bottom. Before my eyes, the smoke transformed into flesh and skin and hair. When the process was complete, a small, umber creature sat in the center of my circle. It had a wide mouth, and an underbite, probably because of the two tusks that grew out of its lower jaw to rest on top of its upper lip. The creature was naked and sexless. Two small horns adorned his bare crown. A miniature faun.

I hurried to finish the incantation.

By my blood you are bound. Only with my blood can you go again.

I heated the knife in the candle beside me and pressed the hot blade against the open wound. It closed with a hiss and I couldn’t suppress a moan as tears welled up in my eyes. Closing the wound was possibly even more painful than the blood sacrifice itself. When I removed the knife again, a red burn mark adorned the flesh of my palm. 

According to A History of Summoning, a book I’d bought years ago at a flea market, this part of the incantation was needed to completely close the circle, and capture the creature within. Once the demon was dismissed, the mark would also disappear. In the past, summoners would sometimes skip this part for fear of being accused of witchcraft, but this allowed demons to easily escape from the circle. Even the smallest unevenness in a drawn circle could be enough for the demon to break through. Many summoners had died needlessly from this oversight, or so I’d read. If only that market vendor had known what treasure he’d sold me for barely two dollars. I already owed that book my life more often than I could count.

The little demon turned its head to the side and studied me from head to toe. Its eyes were completely black save for two narrow, horizontal red slits. They seemed to see right through me. I suppressed the urge to take a step back and instead stuck my chin forward.

What do you want, human? The deep voice echoed through my small living room. Hopefully the neighbors didn’t wake up. The graveyard voice didn’t suit the little creature at all.

Tell me your name, I ordered.

Bound by the spell, the creature couldn’t help but reply.

Nybbasss. It lisped a little, presumably because those tusks got in the way for it to form certain sounds.

I quickly grabbed one of the books piled up next to me—the only, but also the most complete, grimoire I owned—and looked up the name Nybbas.

Nybbas apparently was an inferior demon. He was known as a first-rate charlatan. Not infrequently did he manage to set the Higher Demons up against each other with his lies. And somehow he always came out victorious in that battle.

Perfect.

I need information.

The demon grinned and a shiver ran down my spine.

For the right price, I have all the information you’re heart could possssibly dessire. He made a theatrical bow. At your ssservice.

I want to be able to summon a Higher Demon.

Nybbas’ eyes widened in surprise.

You can’t. At least, not yet, human. He made it sound like an insult.

Why not?

Do you really think you can contain a Higher Demon with that chalk scribble over there? He spat on the circle and the phlegm went up in smoke, hissing. His brow furrowed.

I cursed under my breath. For some time now, I’d been suspecting my circle was inadequate. Nybbas had just confirmed that. I sighed and tried to think.

Meanwhile, the demon traipsed about the edge of the circle on his short legs. I heard his hooves tap on the laminate floor and looked up. At times he stuck out a pointy-nailed finger to test the strength of my circle, but each time he hit an invisible wall. At long last he put his hands behind his back and looked at me.

Do you really think they’ll accept three little droplets of blood as a binding agent? he interrupted my thoughts. Don’t get me wrong, your blood is tasssty. He smacked his lips as if he could taste my blood. Sssweet, with a hint of cinnamon. But it will never be enough for a Higher Demon.

I nodded. I’d read up on the subject. The cost of summoning a Higher Demon was high, unaffordable for most. But that was all the information I could find on the topic. Not even a hint as to what that unaffordable price would be. It didn’t matter, no cost would be too high for me! I had to summon a Higher Demon.

I know that. That is why I want the knowledge so that I can properly summon a Higher Demon.

Nybbas shook his head: I don’t have that information.

What?

Nybbas shrugged and sat cross-legged in front of me. The little faun-demon turned out to be surprisingly agile, if he could cross his crooked goat legs.

I know thissss circle isssn’t enough, but I don’t know what will suffice.

I narrowed my eyes. Was he lying to me? Nybbas was bound to truth by my spell, but that didn’t mean everything he said was completely true. Demons were masters at political games and could skilfully sidestep the truth and at the same time not lie. Given his background, Nybbas was very adept at this. So I had to rephrase my question.

Is it possible with a circle?

Nybbas nodded. Yesss, was the curt reply. He was now leaning casually on his elbows, but his piercing goat eyes expressed his displeasure at my seeing through him.

With chalk?

Again the little demon nodded. Yess.

Should special glyphs be added?

With unexpected speed the demon rose. I recoiled. Only the thin circle and a few inches of air separated him from me and my presumable death.

Nybbas grinned, but his pleasure was short-lived. With a deep sigh he finally answered my question. Yesss.

What kind of glyphs? My voice trembled. I’d never come this close before.

I don’t know them. Nybbas’ grin went from ear to ear.

Who does?

I don’t know. It’s quite sssensssitive information.

Inwardly I cursed again. So close!

And the incantation? How does it go?

Nybbas kicked the circle. Tiny bolts of lightning shot out and scorched his hoof. Still, the demon didn’t make a sound. My heart, on the other hand, was making frantic efforts to jump out of my chest.

You’re going to have to asssk ssssomeone elssse. Now let me out. I’ve had enough of your quiz game.

I ignored him. Had I really asked all possible questions? I looked at the clock. Almost midnight.

Let me go! Nybbas yelled, kicking at the circle again in exactly the same place as before. In horror I saw his hoof go through this time without burning him. The demon’s eyebrows went up. His mouth widened in a wicked grin and he swung his leg back one more time, clearly intending to kick a third time with all the strength he possessed in his tiny body. Before he could finish the blow, though, I quickly cast the revoking spell.

Go, demon. Return to your own dimension. Go and close the gates of hell. The blood has dissolved.

Then I licked the burn, my saliva stripping the blood of its binding powers.

As Nybbas turned to smoke again, I saw the demon bow before me in disdain. Just before he completely disappeared, his voice echoed: I’ll say hello to mommy and daddy!

Then the candles returned to their normal yellow-orange color. It was over. The spell was done.

Empty and with tears in my eyes I stared at the place where the demon had just stood. His voice echoed in my head.

I’ll say hello to mommy and daddy.

Furious, I kicked the stack of books on the floor.

I wasn’t a step closer.

Chapter 2

Ijolted awake. My scream echoed through the room, only to fade away into the city night, where it was swallowed up by a distant police siren. For a moment it seemed as if there was someone else in the room with me, breathing heavily. It took me a few seconds to realize it was me. I swallowed and tried to control my breathing. Slowly I breathed in… and out. My heartbeat slowed down, and gradually the sounds of the city seeped back into the room. My long hair clung to my head and my T-shirt stuck to my back, drenched from my night sweats.

It was just a dream, I told myself. Only a dream. It wasn’t real. At least, it wasn’t real anymore. I had once stood face to face with those red eyes that to date still haunted my nightmares. I’d been six. I shuddered as the memory came floating up to the surface, and I immediately forced it down again, burying it back into the depths of my subconscious.

My face was wet. I’d been crying in my sleep. The dream—nightmare—had seemed so real. As if I was experiencing everything all over again. The heat as my childhood home went up in flames, the cold ground I’d kneeled on, the sharp sting of the branches I’d crawled over, the soft fabric of my one-eyed teddybear.

Too much. I pulled my knees up against me, rolled into a fetal position, and cried until I was out of tears.

Waking up like this wasn’t new to me. In a perpetual rerun the same nightmare had been haunting me for years. Each night I relived the horrific attack on my parents and sister and the pursuit of the demon that was responsible for their fate.

Ashmedai. He had taken my parents from me. He had taken Tanya from me! That night he had determined the rest of my life.

Sooner or later I’ll find you again, I swore in a hoarse voice, holding back the upcoming tears. I’m not giving up!

I pushed the sheets off of me. The orange glow of a street lamp fell right on the jagged patch of pale skin on top of my knee. It was a scar from when I’d fallen during my escape. I stroked it with my thumb. Images of blood and vampire teeth flickered behind my lids and I swallowed. No, don’t think about it.

The moon outside was new, just like on that fatal night seventeen years ago. I shuddered as my thoughts raced.

Seventeen years already my parents and sister were trapped in the demon world. And for almost as long I’d been trying to summon a demon that belonged to the highest circles of hell. The demon king himself.

At first I was convinced that my family was dead. After all, I had seen them die before my very eyes. Ashmedai, at the time a mere friendly stranger, had set my mother ablaze as I watched from my hiding place in a built-in closet.

It wasn’t until years later that I learned that demons don’t kill their victims, but take them to the underworld to be slaves to their whims.

My eyes fell on my alarm clock. Three o’clock. I’d barely slept two hours. My eyes stung. Still, I knew I wouldn’t fall sleep again soon. I actually didn’t want to fall asleep again, too afraid of more nightmares. More memories that would haunt me, stalk me like overly loyal fans. I was tired of being their idol.

I grabbed my cell phone from the nightstand and scrolled through my contacts. Should I call Riika? No, she’d only scold me for summoning a demon and blame my nightmare on it. Still, I needed to talk to someone.

I pressed the only other name on my favorites list. As the phone did its job and dialed Sam, I made my way to the living room and plopped down on the sofa with a blanket. The phone rang only a few times before a familiar voice sounded.

Cass? Is everything alright?

I took a deep breath. Another stupid nightmare. I tried to sound as casual as possible. I’m not disturbing you, am I?

Of course not! Do you want me to come over?

I nodded as I swallowed, then said, Yes, please. I hated it when my voice cracked like that.

I’m coming!

I hung up. It wouldn’t be long before Sam arrived. Sam, short for Samuel, was a two-hundred-year-old vampire. He was Riika’s brother and like a father to me. After I lost my parents they’d taken me in. Drawn to the scent of fresh blood from my knee, he and Riika had been at the place of doom pretty quickly. Without realizing it, they’d saved me from a life of slavery. Sam and Riika had been there for me ever since. I trusted them two hundred percent.

While I waited for Sam, I lit the candles that stood scattered as lanky mushrooms around the living room. No black ones this time. They were only used for summoning, and I kept them apart from the others in a box. The soft candlelight bathed the room in a cozy glow. I rarely turned on the light and usually used candles at night. A habit I’d taken over from my mother.

I still remembered how there were always candles burning at home. Some with a wonderful scent. Vanilla or cherries, or even coffee! I quickly fortified my mental barricades before I’d burst into tears again. I was somber enough already. Memories of my mother wouldn’t make it any better. On the contrary.

In an attempt to distract myself, I looked around the room. It had obviously been a while since I’d cleaned up. Books were everywhere. On the table, on the cupboard, on the couch, on the coffee table, even on the floor. I usually didn’t care much about it. I lived alone and the few friends I allowed to come over knew me well enough not to care. Besides, friends who slept in coffins had little to say about my interior decorating skills to start with.

The bell rang. Sam! Without using the intercom, I pressed the button that would unlock the front door downstairs and opened the door to my apartment. No one else would ring the bell at this hour.

Moments later, he’d climbed the four flights of stairs and stepped into the room. He wasn’t even out of breath.

I smiled when I saw the concerned face of the vampire. He had that straight-out-of-bed messy hairstyle that makes it look like you put no effort into your looks, but in reality had spent a full thirty minutes in front of the mirror for to create. For a two-hundred-year-old vampire, he was quite in tune with current fashion.

Thanks for coming so quickly. I didn’t want to bother you, but you know how Riika gets.

His smile showed the dimples in his cheeks.

No problem, he said, and sat down at the pine table I’d pushed against the wall to make room for my circle. He glanced at the chalk circle at his feet. Tell me about your dream.

I sat down next to him and told him the story. Sam must know my nightmares word for word by now., yet still he listened without interrupting me. He was a treasure! When I was done, he looked me straight in the eye.

Maybe it’s better to stop?

I looked at him wide-eyed. I hadn’t seen that one coming. Riika would indeed try to talk me out of this crazy deathtrap plan as she liked to call it, but Sam?

You know how important this is to me, I said.

Yes, but maybe the nightmares will stop if you... you know... accept the situation...?

I flew up.

How can you say that? You found me back then. You know better than anyone how bad it was.

I took his silence as agreement.

He took my hand and looked up. Sit down, Cass. Don’t be mad at me. I’m just concerned.

I was angry. Very angry even, but I sat down next to him anyway. Albeit reluctantly.

You have to understand my situation, I said.

Of course I understand.

I looked at him. What did Riika tell you?

What do you mean? He clearly hadn’t expected that question.

You know what I mean. Riika has always been against me summoning demons, but you weren’t. What did she say to make you change your mind?

Sam was silent for a moment. He seemed to think about my words. Just as he was about to answer, a cell phone rang. He reached for his pocket.

It’s Riika, he said and answered the phone.

Speak of the devil, I muttered.

Riika? Yes, I’m with Cass.

I vaguely heard Riika’s voice on the other end of the line, but couldn’t understand the words. Sam kept his cell phone away from his mouth.

She asks if you’re coming to Type-O tonight?

Type-O was the club that Sam ran. It had started as a meeting place for all vampires in Kansas City, both passers-by and residents. Over the years it had grown into a real nightlife hotspot and twenty years ago—when people came to know about the existence of vampires—it became the ‘place to be’ for all tourists—human and vampire alike—who came to Kansas City.

I nodded. I usually spent my Saturdays there, so why would this Saturday be any different?

She’s coming, Sam spoke to his phone. I heard Riika answer, even though I still couldn’t make out anything from the words on the other end of the line. In the meantime I went to the couch and put the blanket that lay there over me. It had gotten chillier. Outside, the sky was brightening. I wondered if it was a good idea to make coffee.

Yes, another nightmare, I heard Sam say and he looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

I sighed and decided that coffee was a very good idea. With the blanket still wrapped around me, I went into the kitchen, took a new filter from the special holder I’d bought, and put in ten scoops of coffee. Enough for a whole pot. I’d never be able to drink it all, but five scoops for half a pot just didn’t taste the same. At that time, I cared more about good coffee than about frugality.

I have to go, he said just as I pressed the power button.

I didn’t turn around. I understand.

Are you okay? Sam came closer. I forced myself to smile and put my arms around him. I held the blanket at two corners so that it flew around Sam, holding us both like a giant furry taco.

Yes, although I don’t think I’ll be going back to sleep tonight.

This morning, you mean. Sam looked over my shoulder at the window. I followed his gaze. In the distance, the first rosy streaks appeared, as if a painter had taken a brush to the night sky. It wouldn’t be long before the first rays of sunlight came through.

Again I smiled, a little more sincere this time. Then I broke the embrace and pushed him away.

Go, before it’s too late.

If you had curtains, I could stay, he chuckled. I smiled and pushed him towards the door. I refused to bring up that old conversation. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sam gave me another quick kiss on the cheek and left.

Chapter 3

Iwoke up not knowing where I was. For a moment panic threatened to overtake me. Then my sleepy mind processed the feeling of hard fabric on my cheek. I’d fallen asleep on the couch. I sat up, head still heavy. The sun shone straight in my face and I squinted. As my eyes adjusted I noticed the book I’d been reading after Sam left. It had fallen on the floor, still open on the last page I’d been reading. My cup of coffee stood cold and forgotten on the coffee table.

I dragged myself to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, not surprised to see dark circles under my eyes. I sighed, ignoring the tired face that stared back at me as on auto-pilot I splashed water into my face, combed the tangles out of my hair, took two aspirin, and quickly put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

Coffee was the only thing on my mind when I went back to the kitchen where I found the still full, yet cold, coffee pot. I emptied it into the drain and refilled it with water, scooped ten spoons into a clean filter and pressed the power button. The coffee-maker immediately started to burp out pleasant gurgling sounds, and the aroma of fresh coffee filled the room. I took a new cup from the cupboard and already put milk and sugar in it. Flat whites were lifesavers in the morning... or afternoon.

While I waited for my coffee to drip through, I opened my kitchen cabinets looking for something to eat. All I found was a loaf of old bread and some jam. I put