A/N: My first Demonata fanfiction! I love this series! I read the first eight books in about a week! I haven't read the ninth yet, but will do very soon – can't wait!

This fic follow my OC, Aster Hunter as she is drawn into the world of the Demonata and has to live with Dervish when her mum goes away on a mission for the Disciples. It is based after Slawter but before Blood Beast and will work its self through the series until whenever it finishes (I'm not certain at this point).

I'm trying to keep it in as much Darren Shan's style as possible, but I'm not him so forgive any OOCness or whatever.

On that note: I am not Darren Shan, I do not own The Demonata series. Anything you recognize is not mine. Anything else (Aster and her mum mainly) are mine though.

Enjoy and review.

Star Hunter

One

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// Monday morning. It's a nightmare trying to get out of bed, knowing that I have a whole day of torture to look forward too! School's not that bad, but the people there are awful!

Mum says I should bear with it, I'm the new girl and everyone's bound to be a bit dodgy to begin with. Truth is, I've never fitted in a school. I keep my nose down, do my work and don't question the teacher's authority – not exactly popular material. I used to try; laugh at the other kids' jokes, not complete homework, all that kind of stuff, but it didn't do any difference. Once a freak, always a freak.

At my old school I had friends. Sure, not many, but enough to keep me happy. I like them; we could relate to one another, we were interested in the same things. Then mum sprung the news; we had to move house.

I was sad, but I didn't complain. It's just me and mum see, and I try my hardest not to give her any grief. Dad died three year ago and it's been hard, but we cope. The pair of us get on well; we're each others best friends. But sometimes I wish she didn't have to be my friend, sometimes I wish she could just be my mum and I could have normal friends my own age.

// Showered and dressed, heading downstairs for some breakfast. I hate the school uniform, girls are required to wear plaited skirts; I hate skirts! If I had my way, I'd wear jeans all the time.

"Honestly Aster," mum sighs as I stomp down into the kitchen and throw myself down at the table, too tired and miserable. Aster, that's my name, Aster Hunter. Really it means Star Hunter, which is a little lame, but it's my name and it's better than what mum wanted to land me with – Aphrodite, you know, after the Greek Goddess of love. Dad put his foot down on that, said that while it may be a nice name, she had to think about my future and what kids are like.

"Anyone would think you were being forced into some horrendous task." Great, she's in 'mum mode'.

"I don't know," I shrug. "School is pretty horrendous – you only have to look at these craptastic uniforms to tell that!"

Mum rolls her eyes. I don't look a thing like her; she's tall, tanned, blonde and gorgeous, a fairly young mum that still manages to have men falling over her feet. I, however, am not so lucky. I'm short, with mousy curls and a freckled face, my nose is small, but slightly upturned and my eyes are the most boring shade of brown imaginable. When I draw myself – I like to doodle a lot – I always end up giving myself whiskers and huge round ears; that's me, Aster Hunter, a door mouse! It's pathetic really.

"Don't give up, Mouse" – yeah, even mum agrees, although she thinks calling me Mouse is cute! Get real! – "everything will work out for you soon enough." It's my turn to roll my eyes.

// School goes painfully slowly. Lunch is okay; although I spend it alone, I can read or doodle, passing the hour quickly. Lessons aren't so fortunate; the hours drag by and the teachers talk in a boring monotone, none of them sounding interested in the subject they teach. Still, I listen carefully and make notes, knowing that, if nothing else, they'll come in useful for my upcoming GCSE's.

When school finishes I'm immensely happy. Nothing sounds better right now than a relaxing soak in the bath and a frothy hot chocolate. I'm out of luck; when I get home I instantly realize we have a guest. A motorbike is parked up in the drive. I vaguely wonder who it could be; I didn't realize mum knew anyone with a motorbike.

I know something's up as soon as I enter the house – there's raised voices. I close the door quietly behind me and strain my ears, trying to work out what's going on.

"Melantha, things are getting out of hand! The Disciples need all the help they can get!"

"She's all I've got," mum replies quietly; she sounds lost, sad.

"You told me yourself you can feel it in her!"

"No, I said she might have inherited it!" mum protests.

"It's not something you inherit Mel! You either have it or you don't!"

I've had enough - I can't be certain, but I think they're talking about me. Quietly I reopen the door and then slam it behind me.

"I'm home!" I call out, hoping they won't call my bluff and realize I've been standing listening for the last minute. Instantly mum, and another blonde woman enter the hallway. The pair could be sisters, in fact, they are sisters! I've seen photos even if I haven't met her before. Mum doesn't speak a lot about Aunty Meera, but I know that's who our guest is before either of them speak.

"How was school, honey?" mum asks, sending a warning glance at Meera that I'm not supposed to notice.

"Fine," I lie.

"Look at you, all grown up!" Meera cries happily, hurrying over and pulling me into a hug. If I hadn't of made the connection between her and mum I would feel really awkward right now, in fact, I still do. "I haven't seen you since you were tiny!" Meera announces as she pulls away from me. A hesitant look suddenly crosses her face. "You do know who I am, don't you?"

I laugh at her worried expression. "Aunty Meera, you look just like a younger version of mum," I tell her.

"I am a younger version; newer model, better in everyway," she winks at me. "But don't call me Aunty, it makes me feel old."

"There are aunts out there a lot younger than you," mum points out.

"Still," Meera waves her off. She looks down at me – I only just reach her shoulder – and smiles. "You've grown up into a beautiful young lady," she tells me. "You look every bit like you dad." I think that's meant to be a compliment, but really, with a mum and an aunt who look like that; I'd rather have inherited the Flame gene! Flame, that's mum's maiden name – Melantha and Meera Flame.