Imps make a crunchy sound when I step on them. They’re messy. They’re smelly. They ooze green goo all over my boots. While that’s an easy way to get rid of them, there’s a better way, and it’s a whole lot easier on my footwear budget.

Holy water grenades. Those balloons made especially for summer parties? I’d been filling them at Mass out of the baptismal font whenever I could manage it; whenever the priest wasn’t looking.

Of course, sometimes there’s splash damage on items that have been touched by hell-beings, but who wants that in their living room, anyway?

I know what you’re thinking. Why in the world would I know this? It’s part of the job, which, in this economy, isn’t something I want to risk. Besides, there aren’t many jobs available for people like me: young, broke, no college education, especially since I lost my last job for burning hamburgers at McDonalds. Add in the fact that it’s way cooler to say, “Hi, my name is Leslie Johnson and I’m your Demon Buster today,” than, “Do you want fries with that?”

 

Chapter One

The blond newscaster was way too perky for me to handle this early in the morning. If I didn’t get coffee soon, I’d find out firsthand if perkiness prior to percolation qualified for justifiable homicide.

“This just in; Dayton police have this morning discovered a dead wolf in McGregor Park this morning. The wolf’s stomach appears to have been cut open and seven heavy paving stones were placed inside, likely prior to death. Dayton police are teaming up with the Montgomery County Animal Resource Center to investigate. Both agencies are asking viewers with information to please call 1-800-CRIMESTOPPERS to share information about the wolf, its owners, or possible suspects in the case. In other news…”

The coffeepot finally finished brewing. Thank God. It must have been the lack of caffeine; the newscaster couldn’t actually be talking about something that strange.