DARREN SHAN
THE DEMONATA BOOKS 1-5
Lord Loss
Demon Thief
Slawter
Bec
and
Blood Beast
HarperCollins Children's Books A division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 77-85 Fulham Palace Road, Hammersmith London, W6 8JB
Lord Loss: Text copyright © Darren Shan, 2005 Demon Thief: Text copyright © Darren Shan, 2005 Slawter: Text copyright © Darren Shan, 2005 Bec: Text copyright © Darren Shan, 2005 Blood Beast: Text copyright © Darren Shan, 2007 Cover illustrations © Dominic Harman
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Darren Shan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
Source ISBNs: 9780007435456, 9780007435449, 9780007435432, 9780007435425, 9780007435418
Ebook edition © December 2014 ISBN: 9780008125998
Version: 2014-12-09
Contents
Lord Loss
Demon Thief
Slawter
Bec
Blood Beast
For:
Bas — my demon lover
OBEs (Order of the Bloody Entrails) to:
Caroline “pie chart” Paul
D.O.M.I.N.I.C. Kingston
Nicola “schumacher” Blacoe
Editorial Evilness:
Stellasaurus Paskins
Agents of Chaos:
the Christopher Little crew
LORD LOSS
Lord Loss sows all the sorrows of the world
Lord Loss seeds the grief-starched trees
In the centre of the web, lowly Lord Loss bows his head
Mangled hands, naked eyes
Fanged snakes his soul line
Curled inside like textured sin
Bloody, curdled sheets for skin
In the centre of the web, vile Lord Loss torments the dead
Over strands of red, Lord Loss crawls
Dispensing pain, despising all
Shuns friends, nurtures foes
Ravages hope, breeds woe
Drinks moons, devours suns
Twirls his thumbs till the reaper comes
In the centre of the web, lush Lord Loss is all that’s left
Contents
Rat Guts
Demons
Dervish
The Grand Tour
Portraits
Spleen
Carnage in the Forest
A Theory
The Cellar
The Longest Day
Arooooo!
Family Ties
The Curse
The Challenge
The Choice
The Summoning
The Battle
A Change of Plan
Spiral to the Heart of Nowhere
The Change
RAT GUTS
→ Double history on a Wednesday afternoon — total nightmare! A few minutes ago, I would have said I couldn’t imagine anything worse. But when there’s a knock at the door, and it opens, and I spot my mum outside, I realise — life can always get worse.
When a parent turns up at school, unexpected, it means one of two things. Either somebody close to you has been seriously injured or died, or you’re in trouble.
My immediate reaction — please don’t let anybody be dead! I think of Dad, Gret, uncles, aunts, cousins. It could be any of them. Alive and kicking this morning. Now stiff and cold, tongue sticking out, a slab of dead meat just waiting to be buried. I remember Gran’s funeral. The open coffin. Her shining flesh, having to kiss her forehead, the pain, the tears. Please don’t let anyone be dead! Please! Please! Please! Ple–
Then I see Mum’s face, white with rage, and I know she’s here to punish, not comfort.
I groan, roll my eyes and mutter under my breath, “Bring on the corpses!”
→ The head’s office. Me, Mum and Mr Donnellan. Mum’s ranting and raving about cigarettes. I’ve been seen smoking behind the bike shed (the oldest cliché in the book!). She wants to know if the head’s aware of this, of what the pupils in his school are getting up to.
I feel a bit sorry for Mr Donnellan. He has to sit there, looking like a schoolboy himself, shuffling his feet and saying he didn’t know this was going on and he’ll launch an investigation and put a quick end to it. Liar! Of course he knew. Every school has a smoking area. That’s life. Teachers don’t approve, but they turn a blind eye most of the time. Certain kids smoke — fact. Safer to have them smoking at