Hellforged Read Online Free Page B

process, he invented a new musical genre: monster rock.”
    Cut to a stadium packed with screaming fans. Searchlights zigzagged across the stage, lighting the smoke that billowed from hidden machines, as a voice announced, “Are you ready to meet your worst nightmare? Are you ready to dance with the dead? Are you ready … for Monster Paul!” The audience roared as fireworks sparked to the sound of more ear-splitting guitar chords. Monster Paul staggered to the front of the stage and began growling like a sleep-deprived bear with a bad case of indigestion.
    Tina and Jenna both swooned.
    Before the TV speakers reached meltdown, the screen switched back to the studio. Rhoda Harris continued: “As Monster Paul, Montoya has reached a new level of fame. With two double-platinum CDs and the most-downloaded song of all time—‘Grave Robber (Stay Outta My Grave)’—Monster Paul has made being previously deceased”—a smile crept into her voice—“almost cool.”
    “Here comes the good part,” Jenna said, leaning forward.
    “Now,” said Harris, “Montoya is ready for another reinvention. And he’s reaching out to Boston’s paranormal community for help.”
    In his recording studio, Monster Paul looked into the camera. “There’s so much raw talent in Deadtown, and it’s time to give that talent its due. I want the world to know that zombies are previously deceased, not dead—you know? So I’m putting together a new band. It’ll be made up of paranormals, 100 percent. I’ll be auditioning musicians and backup singers on January 22. If you think you’ve got what it takes to join my Zombie Freak Show, come on over to the old Orpheum Theater from eight ’til whenever we’re done.”
    The screen displayed the time and date, as Harris wrapped up her story: “You heard him, Deadtown. Paranormal musicians and singers are encouraged to try out tomorrow night—that’s January 22—at the former Orpheum Theater on Hamilton Place, starting at eight P.M.”
    “Omigod!” Tina shouted, pulling open a drawer. “I need a pencil!”
    “You are not writing that in Russom’s.” I snatched the book from her.
    “It’s okay, I already wrote it down,” Jenna said.
    “We are so going to be there.”
    “Can either of you play an instrument?”
    “What for? Weren’t you listening? He’s looking for singers, too.” Tina launched into “Grave Robber,” and Jenna joined her. I think one of them was off-key, although it’s hard to tell with monster rock. They sounded like a couple of furious parrots challenging each other to a death match. Then I considered the concert clip PNN had played. The two of them were naturals.
     
    I LEFT TINA AND HER FRIEND SCHEMING ABOUT WHAT TO wear to the audition and drove to my rented garage. Once the Jag was safely locked up, I hoisted my weapons bag and walked to the building where I shared an apartment with Juliet, my vampire roommate. Deadtown was only a couple of blocks wide by five blocks long, from Winter Street to School Street. Because all Boston’s paranormals had to live here, housing was at a premium. That made for some strange … if not bed-fellows, then roomies, anyway.
    Zombies thronged the streets, shopping, eating, talking, eating, laughing, eating, heading home from work, eating. Oh, and eating. If I ever give up demon extermination, I’ll open a hot dog stand in Deadtown. I’d make a fortune.
    Dusk-to-dawn was the busy time in this part of town, and the nighttime streets belonged to the zombies. For one thing, at more than two thousand strong, they just plain outnumbered the rest of us. Vampires spent their after-dark hours in the human parts of town, trawling for blood donors, while more and more werewolves worked norm hours, taking eight-to-five jobs in human-owned companies. State law required them to spend the three days and nights of each full moon at a secure werewolf retreat, but they managed to work around that restriction. Human and paranormal Bostonians