Blood of the Demon (The Silver Legacy Book 3) Page 15

  Just then, the person walking through the cemetery appeared. Denny leapt down from the statue and grabbed him from behind. Holding the teenager’s arms behind him, Denny grabbed his jaw and held his mouth opened. The spirit Iris had just called entered the youth, leaving just a small trail of black smoke.

  The teen struggled for a moment, then gasped as the demon took control of the body.

  “Here, DH!” Iris tossed a hunk of bread to Denny who caught it with one hand and stuffed it in the kid’s mouth.

  “Eat this or die where you stand,” she growled into his ear.

  The kid’s eyes grew wide as he nodded and chewed. Ten seconds later, he fell to the ground.

  “I swear to God, Iris, I am never eating another piece of your bread. That potion is amazingly fast.”

  “It will make this easier and give the spirit a better voice.”

  “Witch. How dare you pull me from my chosen state.” The possessed teen glanced around, clearly puzzled as to why he could not move the rest of his body. “What manner of trickery is this?”

  Iris pulled her head forward, her gray eyes almost black. “Be still, spirit. It is I who called you forth and I who will ask the questions of you.”

  The spirit now completely took over the teenager. “I have been called forth by a witch?”

  “Indeed you have, and I have but one question. Answer it well and I will send you off to your eternal rest.”

  “Ask it then, witch, as I grow weary of Limbo and this accursed place.”

  “Recently, Vodouisants opened a rift and demons entered our world. I just want to know where this rift is. Where is the source of the influx of demons?”

  The spirit sighed. “I expected a Voodoo Priestess. The Mambo. I am surprised I am called by a mere witch.”

  “I am no mere anything. I am the seventh of a seventh. My powers shall grow exponentially, as you know. The Mambo Priestess has not the power to call one such as you, or surely she would have by now.”

  The spirit blinked, then licked its lips––about the only movement it was capable of at the moment. “Indeed, witch. The seventh of a seventh makes you nigh invincible. You are a formidable power. Young, yes, but one day, you will be a force...if you live that long.”

  Iris smiled. “I plan on living a long and happy life, spirit. Now, the rift. Tell me where it is.”

  “And then you’ll release me from this hellish nothingness, where I watch the lives of my past loves enjoying themselves?”

  “Name the source and I will cut the ties that bind you and keep you locked here.”

  For several moments, the spirit said nothing, as if contemplating the offer. “A witch with a hunter is bad business. Risky business.”

  “This is my calling, and my hunter’s name will one day be spoken of in hushed respect around the world.”

  The spirit nodded. “This source you seek...it can be found within Brechtel Park.”

  “Shit. Over a hundred acres of park.”

  Iris did not lose her focus. “More specifically, demon?”

  “I shall not lead you there, witch. Use your powers, your innate intelligence. You’ll find it, and when you do, be prepared.”

  “Prepared?”

  “The rift is ever changing. Do not attempt to close it with Wiccan magic. That will only lend it more power.”

  “What do you mean, ever changing?”

  “A rift is not merely an opening for the demons to come through; it is a portal to which humans can fall prey. Watch your hunter, witch. Many demons who have long wandered the planet seek solace by returning home.”

  “You mean Denny’s Hanta might be tempted to return?”

  More silence as the spirit worked to speak. “Yes. The rift is like a revolving door. Some come here, some leave. If it is large enough and strong enough, it will have the power to pull humans into it. From within a source a demon can leave the host to return to the spirit world.”

  “How do we close it?”

  “You do not. You cannot. Whatever ritual opened it must be said in reverse using the same kind of magic. Now...that is all. It’s your turn.”

  Denny did not watch the rest of the ritual. Instead, she leapt down from the monument and made a beeline for three higher-level demons quickly making their way towards them.

  Pulling out her weapons, Denny blocked them from passing. “That’s far enough.”

  The three demons stopped and looked at each other.

  “It’s her.”

  “No, it’s the other one. The young one. The one who cut off Dibold’s hands.”

  Fouet and Epée crackled to life as the Hanta filled Denny. “That would be me, assholes, and if you don’t wish me to do the same to your heads, I suggest you turn around and walk away.”

  “We’ve got no quarrel with you, young hunter,” said the shorter stockier one. “If you were smart, you’d have none with us.”

  “You’re kidding right? You’re demons. I’m a demon hunter. There will always be a quarrel.”

  “True, but there doesn’t have to be one tonight. We are assessing the spiritual energy emanating from this place. Allow us to pass or you’ll face the consequences.”

  “Did you flunk demon school, dude? I’ll speak slowly so you understand. I am a hunter. My job is to kill you. Your job is to try to not be killed by me. Got it?”

  “Yes. And you have hunted well and often. Ask yourself this: your Hanta is not at all hungry, yet you would destroy us? Are you losing your humanity, Hunter? Have you allowed the Hanta to replace your soul? Have you become a killer and not just a hunter?”

  The words cut through Denny, who lowered her weapons and bowed her head.

  “It happens all the time, Hunter. It has happened to Farquar as well. Her humanity hangs on by but a thread. Surely you have witnessed it. Surely you recognize that she is more demon now than human. She has lost her way.”

  “You need not give into the Hanta’s blood lust,” the second one added. To do so will only make you like her.”

  Denny gradually looked up. For the last six months, she’d had a ringside seat at Peyton’s hunting drama. She’d admired and respected all she had done and how powerful and efficient she was.

  Admired and respected. Past tense.

  And yet, Peyton Farquar had treated her with contempt even after Denny had come to help. She had repeatedly taunted her as if this was some kind of a pissing contest.

  “You have made your point, demon. You are right. Peyton Farquar is no friend of mine.” Denny placed both cylinders in her vest and stepped aside. “You may proceed.”

  The demons nodded.

  Denny let them by. As they passed her, she grabbed Fouet, snapped it to life, and with one powerful flick of her wrist, cut them down with just one crack from the sizzling whip.

  “The thing is fellas, I am nothing like Peyton Farquar, and I never will be.”

  When she returned to Iris, the teenager was stumbling slightly as he walked away. “Well? What happened?”

  “I cut his ties and sent him on his way. The source is in Brechtel Park, DH, but he said it was nearly impossible to see in the daylight.”

  Denny pinched the bridge of her nose. “Of course it is. Well then, we’ll check back in with Valeria and give her the heads up. See what she wants to do next.”

  Iris frowned. “I would have thought you’d want to go to Brechtel tonight.”

  Denny thought about the demon’s words. “Not tonight and not without back up. There’s so much we don’t know, Iris, and I think we need to step cautiously before running headlong into a gaggle of demons.”

  Iris slowly grinned. “You know, DH, you continue to amaze me. So, what happened with those three?”

  Denny started walking and stepped over demon guts. “On nothing much. They just sorta reminded me of who I am...and who I am not.”

  ***

  Brechtel Park consisted of over one hundred acres of rolling hills with a variety of trees dotted along the riverside. In the day
light, it was magnificent and Denny enjoyed feeling the sun on her back as she walked through the park.

  She didn’t get out enough, relax enough, enjoy being human enough.

  Human enough.

  As much as she didn’t want to admit it, that demon’s words last night had been shadowing her...making her question whether or not she was in fact, losing her humanity. Was she giving her Hanta too much freedom? Too much say in her life? Was she closer to being like Peyton than she thought?

  It bothered her that she didn’t know the answer.

  When was the last time she’d gone to the movies or out with friends? It had been so long ago, she couldn’t remember.

  Is this what had happened to Peyton? Was it a slow transformation that crept up until she was just a sliver of her former self? Or did she just wake up one morning ensconced in the arms of her demonic life never to look back on her human one?

  Neither scenario worked for her.

  But what was wrong with Peyton? Something kept nagging Denny at the back of her mind, but she couldn’t put a finger on it. Peyton should have felt different to her—but Denny wasn’t even sure what that meant.

  When she got back to Savannah, she would have to change some things. She would not end up a bitter, empty shell like Peyton Farquar.

  “Good to see you have sources that can lead you to the right place. Too bad it wasn’t sooner. Jeanette was a good person.”

  Denny wheeled around, weapons at the ready.

  “Oh. Impressive. Fouet and Epée have tasted lots of demon blood in their lives.” The woman facing her stood barely over five feet tall and had short blond hair and piercing blue eyes. She was wearing a leather outfit similar to Denny’s and a grin that said she was not the least bit afraid.

  “Annalee?”

  “In the flesh. I believe you requested help in saving the infamous Peyton Farquar from a gang of baddies? Or maybe you need help saving her from her bad self. Whatever the case, here I am, at your service.” The small woman bowed at the waist.

  Denny holstered her equipment and started to shake Annalee’s hand when Annalee pulled her into a bear hug.

  “Golden Silver! I’ve been keeping up with your exploits since the first time you put bloody ass pen to paper! You’ve come a long way in half a year. You do your mother proud.”

  Denny quickly pulled away. “You know my mother?’

  Annalee nodded. “Met her shortly before she...died. Wonderful woman. Sweet. Kind. She never forgot who she was.”

  Denny blinked. “Thank you.”

  “For?”

  “For telling me that she was a great women and not a great hunter.”

  “She was that, too, but sometimes we forget the people behind the hunters.” Annalee ran her hand through her spiky hair. “So you’re out here looking for the source?”

  Denny nodded. “How did you know?”

  “I have a fabulous witch who located the anomaly here. The source is not visible by day, so you are wasting your time out here. Why don’t we grab something to eat and you can fill me in on all the happy times in this magical city?”

  Denny chuckled. “Well it’s not called one of the most beautiful cities for nothing, right?”

  “Eye of the beholder, legacy lady, eye of the beholder.”

  Denny nodded as they walked side by side in the park. She liked Annalee. There was something more human than Peyton. More sincere. “Where’s your witch?”

  “Mine? Here? Oh hell no. She would never come here. She hates it here. NOLA is Ebola, baby...eats away at you, your magic, your worldly wonder. Uh-uh. Not a chance.”

  “But she let you come?”

  “Let me? Oh lord, no. That’s not how we operate. We’re a team, she and I. She got me the information I needed to assist you, and I came. Zip, zap, zoop.”

  Danny grinned. “I appreciate it.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. We’ve got our work cut out for us. This thing is going to hell in a pink basket, know what I’m sayin’?”

  “I do.”

  “So, have you touched base with Mambo Jambo Ju Ju High Pussy Priestess?”

  Denny stopped walking and tilted her head at Annlee. “Actually, I have, and I made a deal with the Mambo Priestess that I wouldn’t kill her young Vodouisants. We have to get the kids safely to her and then she’ll find a way to close the rift.”

  Annalee turned her head sideways. “You...made a deal with the High Mucky Mambo Jambo Priestess? Seriously? Are you nuts?”

  Denny sighed. “I’m not killing humans wantonly, Annalee. We’re demon hunters, not murderers.” Denny paused. “At least I’m not.”

  “Some would say they are one and the same.”

  “And they would be wrong.”

  Annalee pursed her lips and then grinned. “You are quite the enigma, Golden Silver. For a while, there, I was quite sure you’d been completely possessed. Your journal entries were like, whoa, way off the charts.”

  “Yeah, well I lost my way for a while. I was pretty dazed and confused about it all, but I’m back.”

  Annalee smiled. “Good. I’m glad. Now, I’ve got some crawdad brains I need to suck out and I want to hear all about your issues here. After that, we’ll formulate a game plan to figure out how to shut this mother down. Sound good?”

  “Not really.”

  Annalee frowned. “No? Why not?’

  “I’m not really a fan of brains.”

  “Why? Don’t like the taste?”

  “Demons I can handle. Zombies, not so much.”

  “Oh my God, Golden Silver. You are too funny. Come on. Buy me a beer and let’s get this party started.

  ***

  Annalee leaned on the small table at the Crab Shack, sucked out some brains and tossed the rest of the crawdad on a plate in the middle of the table. “So tell me about that weird feather tattoo on your face. Was that during your dazed and confused moment?”

  “It’s the mark of the High Priestess. It’s my ticket back through the Haitians and to their village.”

  “Trendy. You’re sure to score a ton of dates with it.”

  Denny laughed. “Right. Soon it’ll be all the rage in demon hunter fashion.”

  Annalee tossed another crawdad in the red plastic bucket and sipped her microbrew. “God how I love to eat here. If I lived here, I’d be three hundred pounds.”

  Denny watched her expertly pop the head off the crawdad. “So how long have you been at this?”

  “Since I was eighteen. Almost half my life.”

  “Wow. The stories you could tell.”

  “Nah. Would be same over and over. Demons need killing. I kill them. More come. They need killing. I kill them.” Annalee sucked on the head of another crawdad. “It’s what we do Golden Silver, not the sum of who we are. You need to remember that. I have a great life outside hunting. I have a wonderful boyfriend, great friends, and a real job I love. I’ve found balance in this topsy-turvy world of ours. ”

  Denny shook her head. There was something in Annalee’s voice and her choice of words that made Denny say, “Ames asked you to talk to me, didn’t he?”

  Annalee sucked another head and tossed the carcass in the basket. “Guilty as charged. Now don’t go getting all mad at poor Ames. He thinks the world of you. He just wants what’s best. Your trip down the light fantastic scared the bejeezus out of him. He just wants you to be happy.”

  “Yeah, I suppose he does, but I wish just once he would trust me.”

  “Look, do yourself a huge favor and listen to the man. He is a fount of wisdom and he truly cares. If he acts like a dad, let him. You should be so lucky to have someone who cares about you the way he does. Go easy on the old guy.”

  “How is it you know him?”

  “Who do you think trained me seventeen years ago?”

  “No way.”

  “Way. And trust me when I say this: we have the best in the business. He knows his stuff, for sure. Other legacies—”

  “Like Peyton.”


  “Like Peyton, yeah. She can’t keep it together. That chick is so far off the mark, she’s gone back in time.”

  Denny picked at her po’boy, her fifth since she’d arrived in town. “She’s a piece of work, that one.

  “She needs help, Silver. Real help. Ames is checking in with some friends here to see if they can make contact with her. He’s a good guy, our trainer. One of the best. But not even he can talk sense into a killer like Peyton Farquar.”

  “That’s true. There’s something going on with her that I can’t put my finger on. Maybe you can.”

  “I’ll put my feelers out.”

  Denny stared down at the many crawdad carcasses in the basket. “Well, let’s get back to the job at hand, shall we? Do you have a plan?”

  “This is your gig, Golden Silver. I am just here as support.”

  “Great. Thank you. Then at nine o’clock, let’s meet back here and take a recon trip to find the source. Once we locate it, we can work on collecting the Vodouisants and get them to the Priestess.”

  “What then? She’ll close the source and we can call it a day? You wish. Look at yourself, Golden. You’re sporting a tattoo of a feather on your face, your witch is still wearing her training wheels, and you have no idea if these Vodouisants kids are even alive. We need to close the source and then run for the hills. Let everything else sort itself out.”

  “I can’t. I gave––”

  “Your word. I know. You shouldn’t have done that. Just remember one thing...we’re hunters. We lie. You can say the Hanta made the deal.”

  Denny shook her head. She really liked Annalee. “That’s just not how I roll.”

  “Jesus, Golden, it’s going to be a short lived career if you can’t figure out the balance. We can do this your way, but that is riskier business. These are not people we want to play around with.”

  “I realize that, but there is more to this than closing the rift.”

  “Play it your way, Golden Silver. Just be prepared for a bigger battle than you’ve ever faced. Between demon power, Voodoo magic and witchcraft, we are well over our supernatural heads.”

  “Thank you, Annalee, for coming down here. I appreciate it. The only other legacy I’ve met is Peyton, and she doesn’t really care for me.”