Daemons Are Forever

Daemons Are Forever

(The second book in the Secret Histories series)

Simon Green

Men are mortal; but demons are forever.

The name’s Bond. Shaman Bond. The very secret agent. Once upon a time, all that stood between the world you know and all the forces of darkness was my family. Made strong and powerful by our golden armour, we fought the monsters on your behalf, keeping you safe. Every member of my family was raised from childhood to fight the good fight, in strictest secrecy. So you would never have to know just how dangerous a world you really lived in.

I was a field agent, licensed to kick supernatural arse. Your knight in shining armour, keeping the wolves from your door.

And then I found out it was all a lie. My family didn’t protect the world…we ruled it, from the shadows. And the marvellous golden armour, that made us so much more than human…came at a hidden price too terrible to bear. So I brought my family down. And for my sins, they put me in charge. To run the family, and redeem it.

My real name is Eddie Drood. I am the world’s last hope. The world … is in a lot of trouble.

CHAPTER ONE

A Day in the Life

The world isn’t what you think it is. Hell, even London isn’t what you think it is. There are monsters around every corner, creatures in every shadow, and more dark conspiracies and secret wars going on than you can shake a really big stick at. You never get to know about this because the Drood family has field agents everywhere, to keep the lid on things and make sure everyone plays nice. When they don’t, we kill them. We don’t believe in second chances; we believe in stamping out fires before they can spread.

My family has been keeping the world safe for almost two thousand years. We’re very good at it.

And then I found out the truth behind the lies, and nothing made sense anymore. The last time I visited my nice little flat in London, my home away from home, my life seemed to make some kind of sense. I was an experienced field agent, complete with use name and cover identity, and the marvellous golden armour that made me so much more than human. I went where the family told me to go, and did what I was told, and it never even occurred to me to ask any questions. It was my job to protect the world from whatever dark and nasty forces needed slapping down that week, and I had a good reputation for getting the job done, whatever the complications. I knew who were the good guys, and who were the bad.

I knew nothing.

My flat was in Knightsbridge, a comfortable first-floor apartment in a really nice area, where no one knew who I really was. I made enough money to live in style as well as comfort, and no one ever bothered me. That was my life, just a few months ago. Until one day, with no warning, my family declared me rogue for no reason, and I had to go on the run to save my life. Searching for answers, I discovered the terrible truth about my family and the world, and nothing has been the same since.

Now here I was back in London again, with the wild witch of the woods Molly Metcalf sitting at my side as I drove my new car through the mostly empty streets. It was the early hours of the morning, the sun only just up, the birds were singing their little hearts out, and the air had that expectant, anything-can-happen feel that all big cities have at the begi

Me, I’m just another face in the crowd, trained to blend in without being noticed. And I’ve never ordered a vodka martini shaken not stirred in my life.

I sent my new car roaring through the streets with a complete disregard for traffic lights, traffic laws, and any and all forms of road etiquette. Though strictly speaking, it wasn’t a new car. I’d had to abandon and destroy my beloved Hirondel during my time on the run, so I prevailed on the family Armourer to provide me with a new set of wheels. I was now driving a lovingly restored 1933 open-topped four-and-a-half-litre Bentley, in racing green with red leather interiors, and an Amherst Villiers supercharger under the long gleaming bo

“This is one hell of a car, Eddie! Where did you steal it?”

“It used to belong to my uncle Jack,” I yelled back over the roar of the engine. “Back when he was charging around East Europe in the fifties, at the height of the Cold War, stamping out bush fires with extreme prejudice. They say he personally prevented three world wars, and very nearly started one, when he was caught in bed with a politician’s wife. And his mistress. Uncle Jack moved on to faster and flashier cars, of course, but he always had a fondness for this one, and kept it going for years. He customised the hell out of it, of course. As family Armourer, he always had to have the best toys.”

“Such as?”

I gri

“Groovy! Let’s try them!”

“Let’s not. We aren’t supposed to draw attention to ourselves, remember? Wait till we see a traffic warden. Or a street mime.”

It felt strange to be back in London, driving down familiar streets, after so much had happened. The streets looked just the same, and no doubt the people went about their everyday lives as though nothing had changed; but everything had. The whole world was up for grabs with the family out of the picture, even if no one knew it yet. My family didn’t run the world anymore, and the only reason the world wasn’t tearing itself apart trying to fill the new power vacuum…was that all the other powers that be were waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Why are we going back to your old flat?” said Molly.

“I already told you. And if you ask Are we there yet? one more time, I’ll hit the ejector button.”

“This car doesn’t have an ejector seat.”

“It might have. You don’t know.”

“Talk to me, Eddie. You never tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Hey, I’m not used to this whole being in a relationship bit, okay? When you work as a field agent, you learn pretty fast you can’t trust anyone.”