Read Online Demon Girl by Penelope Fletcher - Free Book Online Page B

a wad of paper at the back of Zoe’s head. “Not cool, Zo.
Leave her be.” His black-rimmed eyes looked overly large in his
thin face, and his blazer hung open to show his naked chest, belly
piercing and marks. Jeans worn and slashed at the knee, his boots
were scuffed and unlaced.
    I smiled warmly. “Hai, Ro. Where have you
been?”
    “Slums, on assignment,” he replied. His eyes
were on Alex who now stared at the table.
    I twisted round further in my seat and bit my
lip. I had loads of questions I wanted to ask. The slums were
melting pots of every religion, race and minority you could think
of. So intermixed there was little distinction between skin colors.
Occasionally you got the odd throw backs, like Alex, who were dark
and some, were pale or oriental in appearance and feature, but most
were a creamy tan.
    Slum shacks were shabby structures tacked
onto old buildings. Made from wood, plastics, metal basically any
material you could get your hands on. Nothing was wasted but then
nothing was fixed either. The result was a mish-mash of junk and
bric-a-brac homes, riddled with drug dens and whorehouses. The
occasional Sect church stood out like a bleeding human in a hungry
vampire nest. The Sect took over the churches and gutted the
insides to fill them with literature preaching the Doctrine that
kept us safe. The luxuries held in Sect churches, like books,
candles and fabric were never stolen. Not unless you wanted to be
stung up naked outside the Wall for a hungry demon to come teach
you a fatal lesson.
    As bad as the slums were, it was the place
where the most talented and down to earth people lived. For every
drug dealer selling slammers, the most popular narcotic of choice
since the Rupture since it suppressed the appetite, there was a
talented musician strumming a tune and singing a song. For every
streetwalker there was a crew of dancers doing their thing. Artists
drew on the floors and sides of buildings with chunks of rough
chalk, knowing that rains that came every day would wash it away,
but still happy to sketch all day long. Yeah, there was good in the
slums. As Disciples we had no spare time, and only got to leave the
Temple grounds to either train or complete an assignment. I’d only
ever had one that had taken me into the heart of the slums. I’d
been dying to go back ever since.
    Ro saw all the questions on my face and
winked at me. “We talk all about it later and I say hai proper,” he
said.
    It didn’t take long for my mind to wander.
The fairy-boy from that morning was running around the Temple
looking for me, waiting for me. I hoped no one else saw him. No
human could appear and disappear without a trace so quickly, and it
would be clear he was ‘other’. That he was a demon that had managed
to get around the Wall without tripping the klaxon; after all I’d
done it too. The thought of him being discovered was making me feel
slightly sick. I even threw up in my mouth a little.
    I heard, rather than saw Cleric Tu step into
the room. I knew what he’d look like from memory. His hair was a
messy confusion of dark curls, and his shoulders were broad. He was
young, cheerful and nice to look at. He was also a murderer. Few
would call him that since most humans would see the death of a
demon as belated justice, even the death of a demon-child.
    I took a deep breath and looked up. It wasn’t
so bad. I didn’t recoil or blanch at the sight of him. My stomach
turned over but no one could see that.
    Perched on the edge of his desk, he took a
crunching bite of apple. My mouth watered. An apple? Fruit. Where the hell had he gotten that? He definitely had friends in
high places, because there weren’t many fruit bearing trees inside
the Wall, and getting any fresh produce was rare. Our dietary
staples were caffeine, sugar and bread. There were few people
wandering around who were not emaciated looking, and it was usually
a sure sign the person was a Priest or related to one. Only they
could afford to