Darkness Descends (The Silver Legacy Book 1) Page 13

  “She had partners?” Denny said to no one. She glanced at the basement door before looking at the gun. Then she dialed Brianna’s number and waited.

  “Hey you, what’s shakin’ bacon?”

  “I’m with Ames Walker, getting ready to go down to his basement. If I don’t call you in an hour, send the cops.”

  Brianna laughed. “Don’t be absurd. He’s a good guy.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Oh. Wow. Okay. Paranoid much? You think I sent you into the lair of a serial killer?”

  The word lair gave Denny pause. “Uh. No?”

  Brianna laughed again. “I’ll call you in an hour. Okay?”

  “Thank you.” Denny slid off the bar stool, crammed the rest of the bread in her mouth, and headed for the stairs, leaving the gun on the counter.

  “If Mom trusted this dude, then so will I.”

  ***

  The demon was breathless from the chase. Two traps and he’d nearly lost a leg to this tracker. This hunter would never stop. He was proving to be relentless.

  The demon flagged down a cab when he felt the spiritual presence of his foe.

  “Olive Street.”

  The cabbie said nothing as he punched his meter.

  Before he could put the car in gear, the demon sliced the man’s throat. He pulled the bloody body into the backseat, then slid into the driver’s seat and pealed out into the traffic, looking in the mirror to see if anyone was following him. He didn’t see anyone.

  “Jesus,” the demon muttered. He glanced down at a leg wound that was bleeding heavily.

  That was the problem with humans. They bled so darn much. One little cut and you’d think they were on death’s door.

  The demon chuckled.

  Death’s Door.

  As if Death lived in a house.

  Why did humans always feel the need to anthropomorphize every little thing they didn’t understand? Like winged angels who merely looked like humans only with big wings? How dumb was that? Did they ever wonder if angels fucked or had to take a dump?

  If only they knew.

  He laughed again.

  Why, if angels existed, would they ever choose to look and be as frail and weak as the human body was? There were far superior bodies on other creatures. The jaguar was a good choice. Maybe a dolphin.

  And wings?

  Seriously?

  If an angel really had powers, would he need wings to fly?

  The whole notion was ludicrous and infantile––two steps above the Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny. He couldn’t believe these pathetic creatures believed they were at the top of the food chain. Did they not realize that if ants ever rose up to take their place, they could destroy every human on the planet in less than a week?

  The demon stopped at a stoplight and looked closer at his wound. It should have stopped bleeding by now. What was wrong with him?

  He looked up as his passenger door opened. The sickening sound of schnikt told the demon he hadn’t outrun this hunter. Before he could move, a pointed pike punctured his chest. He looked down at the pole protruding from his body and then to the hand still holding it.

  Two seconds later, the demon blew up.

  ***

  Denny was surprised to find a small, finished basement furnished with a leather recliner and a television set. Ames sat in the recliner with the remote in his hand, but the television wasn’t on.

  “Very good. As you can see, I have no dungeon or sex slaves down here. It’s pretty utilitarian, really.”

  Denny handed him the folder. “If my mom did all of that, she didn’t do it alone. Those files say she did all of her killings with Fouet and Épée. Who are they and where can I find them? I have a million and one questions.”

  Ames pointed the remote at the back wall of the little room. To Denny’s astonishment, the wall slid down into the floor revealing nothing but darkness.

  With the press of another button, Ames lit up a room the size of a warehouse. Hanging on one wall were weapons Denny had never seen before. The rest of the room had wrestling mats, weights, and boxing dummies.

  “Holy shit.”

  “I’m afraid there’s nothing holy about any of those weapons.” Ames beckoned Denny to follow him into the room.

  “Oh my god. I’ve...I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “No, you have not.” Ames stood back as Denny studied swords with two blades, metal bats with spikes, pikes of all sizes, and even a few guns that looked like something out of Star Trek.

  “Okay, I’m impressed. You’ve got tons of scary ass weapons, but you haven’t answered my question about Fouet and Épée. Maybe they know what happened to my parents. I need to speak with them.”

  “I’m afraid Fouet and Épée won’t be able to tell you a thing.”

  “Why? Are they dead, too?”

  Ames smiled, his light blue eyes filled with warmth and patience. “No, my dear girl, they are not. Fouet and Épée have never been alive. They are the names of your mother’s weapons.”

  “Her...weapons?” Denny looked from Ames to the wall of weapons and back. “She named her weapons?”

  “Yes. You all do. It’s a peculiar practice of legacy hunters. The words are French for whip and sword. Your family origins hail from old French and the weapons have been passed down through the ages. Fouet and Épée are probably well over five hundred years old.”

  Denny held her hand up. “Wait a minute. My mother was hunting and killing twenty-first century demons with sixteenth century relics? Why not a Beretta or a machine gun?”

  Ames pulled one of the pikes off the wall. “This is one of my weapons. She’s six hundred and fourteen years old.”

  “It’s a pole.”

  He grinned. “Oh really?” Ames slammed the pole’s blunt end on the ground and a three-foot tall flame burst from the top of the pike.

  Denny took a step back. “Shit.”

  “The weapons themselves are ancient, but what each is capable of depends on the quarry, the era, and the hunter. In this case, it is the twenty-first century. Your weapons can do anything from fire to water, from blades to chainsaws. Whatever you need to defeat the demon.”

  “They’ve been in your family forever and they are responsible for the deaths of hundreds throughout the centuries...maybe even thousands.”

  Denny pinched the bridge of her nose. Instead of getting her questions answered, she had more and more to ask. “And you’re a legacy hunter?”

  “No. My family were never hunters in the true sense of the word. I train hunters. I have been training them for almost a quarter of a century. It is...what we have always done in the name of the service.”

  “This just keeps getting weirder.”

  “I wish I could tell you it won’t get any stranger, but I’d be lying. This is only the tip of the iceberg for you, I’m afraid.” Ames put the flame out. “Demons can’t just be killed. They must be exorcised or destroyed by a relic. Sometimes, this kills the host as well, but you know what they say about the needs of the many.”

  Denny nodded.

  “You’ve not seen anything...different?” Ames put the pike back.

  “In her lair? No. I’ve not really...I haven’t had that much time in there.”

  “Oh. I see. So you haven’t located them yet?”

  “No, but I can always use one of––”

  “No, no, no. A hunter’s weapon is part of the family’s legacy. It belongs to the bloodline of hunters and reacts only to the legacy owner. No one else can use it to its full potential.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Ames removed the pike once more and handed it to her. “Strike it on the ground.”

  Denny took the pike. It was warm to the touch. She struck it on the ground and waited.

  Nothing.

  “Try again.”

  She did, with the same result.

  Ames took it back, struck it on the ground, and the flame shot out of the top. “Its true power is only
within my grasp.”

  “A legacy weapon.”

  “Exactly. You need to find those that belong to your family. Once you have them, I can help you learn how to wield them.”

  Denny stared at the weapons on the wall. “So, if I decide to do this, you’ll be my Obi Wan Kenobi and teach me everything I need to stay alive?”

  Ames laughed. “Or something. There is a lot you need to learn and you’ll never learn it all. Every demon is different. Every demon has a different weakness and a certain power. Some are spiritual who possess, others are living, breathing humans. The spiritual demons are hundreds of years old. The older they are, the harder they are to kill. The younger ones are those that are living. They’re easier to kill.” Ames put the pike back in the rack. “I am willing to train you, but I have a few rules that must be agreed upon.”

  Denny waited.

  “You may never speak to anyone about your visits here. When you come, you are to wear the proper attire of a Tae Kwon Do student. You never bring anyone else, never share information with anyone about me or us. If you ever walk out of a session because you can’t stand the heat, then we are through. I do not cotton to whiners, quitters, or weak-willed individuals. My time is far too valuable to waste. Do you have any questions?”

  “What if I don’t want this responsibility?”

  “It’s too late for that, I’m afraid. It has already started.”

  “Started? What’s started?

  Ames Walker strode past her and into the small anteroom. “Everything, my dear. Everything. And your life will never be the same.

  ***

  On the way back to school, Denny’s cell rang. She pulled off the road and answered it.

  “Golden, it’s Ophelia. I need you to come right quick.”

  “Is it Victor? What’s happened?”

  “My boy is fine. Got some news I know you gone wanna hear. Come on by first chance you git.”

  “Is now too soon?”

  “Now. Come on by. I’ll fittus up some special tea.”

  Denny knew whatever news Ophelia had for her was not good. Ophelia only brewed her special tea to keep people calm.

  Twenty minutes later, Denny sat in the parlor holding a cup of chamomile and peppermint tea.

  “What do you mean someone came to you while you were talking to Sarah? Who?”

  Ophelia leaned forward. “The only bein’ capable of comin’ through to me in the spirit world.”

  “You mean a ghost?”

  Ophelia’s eyebrow rose. “You know what I mean, girl, and she done git all up in my face when I wasn’t even talkin’ to her.”

  Denny’s heart skipped. “That sounds like Rush. Was it Rush?”

  Ophelia crossed her arms.

  “I...uh...seem to have lost my ghost.”

  Ophelia leaned forward. “Ain’t all you gone lose, girl, if’n you don’t start spillin’ the truth. You can’t keep this in your chest. Gone come out one way or t’other.”

  Denny sighed. It was evident she wasn’t going to be able to pull any punches with Ophelia, and she shouldn’t have even tried. “We’re lovers.” She waited for Ophelia to cast aspersions that never came.

  “What ya do in your bedroom is your biness, Golden, but from what I could tell by alla her babblin’ is that somethin’ or someone gots her.”

  Denny leaned forward, sloshing her tea into the saucer. “Got her? What do you mean someone got her? She’s a ghost. She can’t be got.”

  Ophelia waved this away. “Jus’ what I’m sayin’. Somethin’...vile and evil was with her. I felt it. She could not get away from it.” Ophelia shuddered. “Evil is the onliest word I know for what I felt. It’s gotta mighty hold on her, awright. She can’t git through––can’t get out. It’s got her in a tight fist.”

  Denny’s heart started racing and she could feel the perspiration dotting her forehead. Rush was...alive? Here? Not gone? There were no words to describe her relief. “So she came to you. She’s still...earthbound?”

  “That she is. She come to me to tell you she can’t do nuthin’ without help, Golden. That girl done need your help to break free what gots her.”

  “Break. Free. Free of what?” Denny felt something stir in her, but it wasn’t the ice cold hand of fear. Quite the contrary. Denny experienced the heat from the flame of anger.

  “Of what evil gots her.”

  “What do I need to do to help her?”

  Ophelia looked into her tea cup as if searching for the answer. “This I cain’t tell you. I did git the sense that whatever it is that gots her, is scairt of you, but I think you oughtta be very afraid of it.”

  “Why?”

  Ophelia shook her head. “It ain’t just on the spiritual plane, Golden. Whatever it is has crossed over into the physical plane and is usin’ yer Rush to get to you. They’s holdin’ her hostage.”

  The anger got hotter and Denny could now feel it burning in her chest. “Hostage? Crossed over? How is that possible?”

  Ophelia slowly shook her head. “They’s a lot to learn ’bout the spirit world if you gonna play in its sandbox, Golden. A whole heckuva lot. You ain’t got much time. Rush is in danger.”

  “Give me the Cliff Notes version.”

  Ophelia pulled her shawl around her shoulders. “These spirits don’t just run amok in the spiritual world. This one done come over ’cause someone invited it.”

  Denny set her tea down. “Invited it? Someone living invited the evil spirit to enter our world and it entered it only to go after Rush?”

  Ophelia slowly nodded. “Oh yeah. Someone invited that evil into our world, and unless it’s stopped, ain’t no tellin’ what harm it might do...to Rush...to you...you people you love.”

  “And you think I’m the one who needs to stop it?”

  Ophelia shuddered. “No, girl, you ain’t the one. You is the onliest one and whatever it is you got, they want.”

  ***

  Denny always knew where to go whenever she needed answers: to the think tank. Lauren could finds anything out about any subject.

  “It’s me.”

  “Hi, you. Long time no see.”

  “I’ve been...busy would be an understatement.”

  “You okay? You sound weirder than normal.”

  Denny chuckled. “Thanks. If I told you my mom was a demon hunter, would you think me crazy?”

  “I already think that.”

  “Seriously.”

  “Seriously? I think you better start from the beginning.”

  Fifteen minutes later, with Lauren filled in, Denny tossed out her request. “I have a list of names I want you to look at and tell me if anything comes to mind.” Denny took a photo using her phone of the names she’s produced from her own research and instant messaged them to her. “I need a rush job on this, Lauren. It’s an emergency of sorts.”

  “Okay, I got them. Let me take a look and see what I can do. Does this have to do with this demon stuff?”

  “It does. Thanks for not thinking I’ve gone around the bend.”

  “You have a ghost for a girlfriend, Den. Of course I believe you.”

  “Well, that’s what this is about. I seem to have misplaced that girlfriend.”

  “Your girlfriend? Rush is missing? Is that even possible?”

  “For lack of a better word, yeah. There’s a lot more to it than that, but for now, let’s focus on the list.”

  “Well, that sounds ominous.”

  “It is, but I don’t have time to go into the details. I need to know what the people on that list have in common. Was it what they wrote? Were they award winners? Why would my mom have a list like that in her journal?”

  “All over it. I’ll e-mail or text when I get a bead on something.”

  “Thanks a bunch. And please hurry.”

  Denny began opening all of the desk drawers, looking for false bottoms or keys or something—anything—that would help her figure out what the hell she was doing. So far, the desk yielded nothing.
<
br />   She took a deep breath and sat back with her mom’s journal, randomly picking a page to read.

  ~~~

  I’ve been watching the children carefully. I can’t believe that Golden and the ghost seem to have made some sort of truce. The ghost never bothers her...or us. She just watches. It almost feels as if Golden has her own sitter the way the ghost stares at her from her perch at the top of the stairs

  Robert wants to do some sort of séance to get her out of the house, but I refused. She’s not causing any harm. As a matter of fact, I get the feeling she likes my family and I don’t feel at all right about booting her from her home.

  Denny quickly read through the next few entries until she found another concerning Rush.

  The ghost’s name is Rushalyn Holbrook, the daughter of the contractor who renovated the house. I don’t know how she died, but I reckon she was twenty-five or six at the time. Anyway, when she finally spoke to me, it was to tell me that Golden was sicker than she had let on. When I took her temperature, it was one hundred and four. We rushed Golden to the doctor, who diagnosed her with encephalitis.

  After that, Robert never again spoke ill of Rushalyn, who watches Golden like a mama bear watches her cubs. When I asked her why she didn’t talk to my daughter, she simply said, “It’s not time.”

  I’m not at all sure why Rushalyn still lingers, but I really am glad she does. It feels like I can stop worrying about Golden, which is good since Quick has become a handful.

  He’s a whole other story.

  ~~~

  Denny skimmed the next dozen or so pages before her cell phone rang. “That was fast.”

  “I’m super smart,” Lauren said. “It’s not the names.”

  “Damn. I was hoping it was some sort of––”

  “It is. Listen to me. Look at your list.”

  Denny did. “Okay. What are you seeing that I’m not?”

  “Other than the fact that I’m super smart? I ran them through a number of programs, but it wasn’t until I put them in a vertical list that I saw what it spells out. Once I did that, my Jumbles skills came in handy. Circle the first letter of each name.”