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Blood of the Demon (The Silver Legacy Book 3) Page 17


  Iris nodded as she ran over to Denny and embraced her in a bear hug.

  “I’m so glad you’re safe.” Denny said softly. “I wish...I wish I could say the same for Annalee. I failed to keep her safe, Iris. I lost my weapons. I lost a friend.” The tears came freely now. “I am so very sorry.”

  Iris pulled away and gently touched Denny cheek. “Oh, DH, don’t cry. All is not as it seems, sweet hunter of mine. What good would having a witch be if she couldn’t protect you and those you care about?” Iris handed the cylinders to Denny.

  “My weap—how?”

  “I am a witch, DH, though seems like everyone keeps discounting that.” Iris walked over to Annalee and muttered Latin in her ear. “And I may be young, but like you, I am far more powerful than anyone gives me credit for.

  “Iris—”

  “Shhh.”

  Laying her hands on Annalee’s still chest, Iris spoke softly in Latin before helping a groggy Annalee to sit up.

  Denny’s jaw dropped open. “But...she...she was...”

  “Not dead, DH. I merely cast a deep sleep spell on her to make them think they’d killed her. The heartbeat is barely discernible, but they were not concerned with her, so they left her for dead. The sleep spell kept them from feeling the Hanta, so they assumed, incorrectly, of course, that they had killed them both.” Iris inspected the flesh wound on Annalee’s shoulder. “They nicked her with a bullet and she went down. I was able to project an image of the bullet going through Anna’s forehead, so they believed her dead.”

  Denny wrapped her arms around Iris and lifted her off the ground. “Oh my God, you are amazing.”

  “Well, that was unpleasant,” Annalee said. “What’d I miss?”

  Denny and Iris helped Annalee to her feet before Denny pulled Iris to her and whispered, “You fucking rock. You know that, right?”

  Iris pulled away and smiled. “You’re right, I so fucking do.” To Annalee she said, “I need to tend to that wound, but you won’t die from it.”

  Annalee glanced down at her shoulder. “You saved my life, Iris. Those wily rascals would have surely blown my head off. Thank you.” Turning to Denny, Annalee said softly, “And they are wrong, Silver. Caring is the reason we do what we do. Don’t you ever forget that. We headed back to the safe house?”

  Denny shook her head. “Hell no. We’re going to get some goddamned answers from the Mambo.”

  Annalee chuckled. “Mambo Jambo, Toil and trouble, soon your houses gone be nothin’ but rubble.”

  With that, they all headed back to the bayou in search of answers.

  ***

  After calling Valeria and letting her know they were alive and well, Denny found her tattooed face gave her easy access to a boat and boatman needed to get to the Haitian village.

  Once there, Hélène listened intently, pausing every now and then to ask a question. When she finished, Hélène motioned for them to sit at the small picnic table. A young girl hustled over and set down four bottles of soda.

  “What are we missing, Hélène? We just got thrashed by your kids. What don’t we know that we need to know? What the fuck is going on here?”

  Hélène slid a bottle over to Denny. “I want to make certain I understand what you have conveyed to me here, Hunter. You say my youngsters have been possessed by these Dybbuk demons. Your friend here was nearly killed, saved by the quick thinking of your witch, and you think someone is withholding information from you? I assure you, it is not I.”

  Iris steadied her gaze at Hélène. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Hélène, but you are withholding something, and if my hunter was put in danger because of it, you and I are going to have more than words.”

  Tense moments ticked by as Hélène studied Iris.

  Hélène held her hand up to stop three Haitians who didn’t seem to care for Iris’s tone. “It is all right. The young witch is simply protecting her charge as is her duty and obligation.”

  Annalee popped open all the sodas and handed them out. “I’ve got a hunch the ‘young’ witch just nailed it. You sent us into a trap.”

  Hélène kept her gaze on her hands folded on the table. “That is untrue.”

  Denny leaned forward on the battered table, coke in one hand. “If you knowingly sent us into a tra—”

  “Heavens no. Absolutely not. I knew they had opened a rift, but do you honestly think I would have sent you to round up our young, knowing full well the demons within you would wish to kill them as soon as they’d seen them? Does that make any sense to you?”

  “But you had an idea about something. What was it?”

  Hélène shooed her people away. “I give you my word, I had no idea any of this had been going on.”

  Denny sipped her soda. “But you think something is going on under the surface of all of this. Surely there’s some piece of information you could give us that might clear up some of the mystery.”

  Sighing heavily, Hélène lowered her voice. “Don’t you know? Can you not sense it yourselves? The Vodouisants youth told you what you have seen with your own eyes and refuse to believe, Hunter. Haven’t you noticed anything strange about Farquar? Anything at all?”

  “Other than that she’s mean?” Iris asked.

  Hélène steadied her gaze at Denny. “I thought she’d have told you, but I am beginning to see that I was mistaken, and for that, I am truly sorry. Farquar was having...some issues, and so she came to me.”

  Denny’s back straightened. “Came to you? For what?”

  “The hunter came to see me two weeks ago. She was...in a bad way. All of the demons were descending upon her city and she was weary. She was having a difficult time keeping her own demon down. She was losing the battle and knew it was only a matter of time before she lost the war.”

  “What did she want?”

  Signing, Hélène picked up the bottle and looked at it. “Well, she had a most unusual request. She asked for help I could not give.”

  Denny leaned forward. “What help was that?”

  Hélène looked out over the bayou a moment before answering. “Your friend, the hunter, asked if I could send her own demon some place where she might have some respite if only for a moment.”

  “Respite? You mean...have it removed from her?”

  “Only temporarily yes, but I do not have the tools to create such an opening or a place, and I told her as much.”

  Denny thought back to the pages and pages of kills attributed to Peyton. All along, she’d thought Peyton was just an awesome hunter, a killing machine, but somewhere along the way, she, too, had become lost in it all, just as Denny had done.

  Peyton wasn’t the killing machine––her Hanta was.

  “She just wanted a rest from it...a moment to catch her breath.” Hélène sipped her soda. “But I do not have that ability.”

  Iris leaned in. “But you know of someone who does.”

  Hélène nodded. “Of course. You are in the land of Voodoo and magic, witchcraft and darkness. Enobaria, the Swamp Queen, is one person who has managed to meld all of the magics into one. Only she has that kind of power, and even so, I don’t know if she could or would help Farquar. She is cagey, that swamp woman, but well versed in many different rituals and spells.”

  Annalee and Denny looked at each other before Annalee said, “Let’s back up a second. Peyton’s losing her marbles and she came to a Vodouisant for help?”

  “The witches and their covens will have nothing to do with her, right? She has ostracized everyone she comes in contact with. Where else was she to go?”

  “So you sent her to Enobaria.”

  Hélène nodded. “She could not have made it all the way through the swamp unescorted so I sent some of my kids with her. I am so sorry, Hunter. I thought you knew all of this. I don’t have any idea why Farquar would have kept this a secret from you.”

  Denny reached over and laid her hand on top of Iris’s. “Could be pride. Could be fear. What happened in the swamp, Hélène?”
r />   “You have to believe me that I did not know exactly what happened with Enobaria. They went, Farquar spoke with her, they returned. I learned from one of the boys that Enobaria did have a suggestion for Peyton, but the boys suggested they were not privy to it.”

  “So she returned from Enobaria’s with the boys. Might she have told them of the ritual?”

  “Enobaria?” Hélène chuffed. “Not a chance. That woman, like Farquar, shares nothing with nobody. That’s why I asked you to find them before she does. Peyton Farquar will kill them all, especially if they are possessed, as you say. You must believe that I had no idea they were possessed.”

  “I believe you, Hélène,” Denny said. “They learned part of a spell from someone, opened a rift with it and were immediately possessed by the Dybbuk demons that came through.”

  “They are youngsters, Hunter. They were merely mischievous, not malignant. They do not deserve to die.”

  “Of course not,” Annalee said. “And we understand that much, but removing a Dybbuk is tricky work. What is your plan if Golden Silver and I can bring them back?”

  “A Vodouisant exorcism. Demon hunters are not the only ones who can extract evil.”

  “Maybe not, but a Dybukk requires special care. Without knowing what you’re doing, you might exorcize them only to have them leap into another being.”

  “As I told Farquar, I am not well versed in this world you traverse. Perhaps it is Enobaria you should speak with. Maybe she can assist. She is a most invincible Mambo Priestess...when she is sober.”

  “Oh great. You’re sending us to a drunken High Priestess whack job?”

  “Enobaria may be able to share with you what she told Farquar, or she might even possess the rift opening ritual herself. That’s the best start for us. When we know better what the ritual was intended to be, I can use my power to help close it.”

  Denny nodded. “Then I’ll need to draw the demons from your boys, but we’ll have to keep them from the rift. That could be tricky. Closing it will not exorcise the demons from the boys.”

  Hélène sighed heavily. “No, it won’t. That is a job for you hunters. Would you do it?” Hélène’s voice was pleading. Her eyes softened. “One of those young boys is my son.”

  Annalee and Denny looked at each other, then Annalee spoke. “Yes, ma’am. We will do it. You help get that closed and we will extract those Dybbuks from your people.”

  “One more thing.” Denny said. “And this isn’t up for negotiation. I want whoever killed Louis handed over to me.”

  “It wasn’t my boys,” Hélène said softly. “I know it. I’ll find the one who did such a vile act and see to it you have access to them.”

  “That’s the other piece of this strange puzzle, Hélène. Someone wanted me to come here and kill you all. Who would want that? Who would want us to come here filled with blood lust vengeance?”

  “I...I do not yet know, but rest assured, when I do find out, I will handle their consequences myself. You have my word.”

  Denny shook her head. “Unless that consequence involves cutting someone’s head off and shoving it up their ass, I’d rather you left it up to me. Louis did not deserve to die like that.”

  Everyone looked at Denny.

  “What? Don’t be surprised. Louis’s only crime was that he chose to assist me and that decision cost him his life. That act won’t go unpunished. In many ways, Peyton and I are nothing alike, but is some, we are on the exact same page––the eye for an eye page.”

  “Easy, Golden. It will be taken care of one way or the other. We can’t lose focus. We must get to Enobaria’s swamp first and see what in the hell she told Farquar and find out what she knows about the boys.”

  Hélène slowly shook her head. “It will not be that simple. Enobaria has traps all over the swamp—Voodoo and otherwise. My people never go out that far. They seldom come back if they try.”

  “Far? Jesus. This is far.”

  “There’s far and then there’s far. It is all relative.”

  “Won’t this gargantuan tattoo get me through the swamp?”

  “It will keep you safe, yes, but it is no guarantee in the dark corners of the bayou, and Enobaria lives in the shadows of the darkness. You will be on your own in an environment as dangerous as any gang land ghetto and far more foreign.”

  Denny rose. “Then away we go ladies.”

  Everyone rose.

  Denny looked over at Annalee. “Say it and I swear to God, I’ll hit you over the head.”

  “You must keep your wits about you, Hunter. Now is not the time for you to lose control of your demon.”

  Iris slid her hand into Denny’s. “That’s what she has me for.”

  Hélène smiled. “She is very lucky to have you, little witch.” Hélène escorted them to the boat. “You can take three of my boys.”

  “I’d rather not. I don’t want to put anyone else in danger. I just need a good boatman.”

  Hélène nodded. “I appreciate your concern. My boatman can get you as far as Big Foot Bend. After that, you’re on your own. I strongly suggest waiting until the sun rises so you can see what you are doing. Even the best boatman can get lost here at night.”

  Annalee turned back to Hélène. “When you say traps, what exactly do you mean?”

  Forty-three minutes later, Annalee got her first taste of that answer.

  ***

  Had Iris not thrown her hands up in time, the seven bamboo spears would have hit their mark. As it was, she deflected them enough so they embedded in a tree next to Annalee.

  “Jesus H, that was close! Nice work, Iris. You really are worth your weight in jelly beans.”

  “Thanks, Anna. I almost missed it. Damn good thing we waited until the sun was completely up or we’d be toast.”

  “This place gives me the creeps,” Annalee whispered. “It’s like a living labyrinth. A branch is suddenly a snake, a rock a turtle. Enobaria is really good at keeping people off balance. My demon is not at all comfortable with this place.”

  Iris nodded. “There is a lot of Voodoo magic in this swamp. A lot. Can you two feel it?”

  They both nodded.

  “She is using all kinds of different magics to protect this area of the swamp. Do not trust your sight, for what you see may not even be there.”

  “She don’ trus’ no one,” the boatman said softly. “Rightly so. Afta Katrina done roll trew here and we git no hep from da gov’ment, lotta folks done moved fuh-thuh out.”

  “I don’t see how anyone can live out here,” Annalee said. “No electricity. No clean running water. Super spooky. No thanks.”

  After nearly an hour in the boat, they pulled up to a moss-encrusted shoreline.

  “Dis is da end of da line for me. I wait here ’til dusk and den I mus’ go back. You not back by den, you fine yer own ways back.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’ tank me. I done bring ya to yer death.”

  “Jolly fellow,” Annalee muttered as they got out of the boat.

  Denny knelt down and studied the ground. She could feel the Voodoo energy. The magic was intense. Her Hanta felt it too, and it wasn’t at all happy about it. “We’re close.”

  Iris nodded. “Indeed.”

  Denny looked at the ground again. There were three hoof marks filled with swamp water...which began shaking as Denny studied it. “Something big is coming our way.” Rising, Denny pulled out Epée, happy to have her weapon back in her care.

  Iris backed up against Denny. “I don’t think that’s gonna work against what’s coming.”

  Annalee looked at them both. “Should we run?”

  Iris and Denny shook their heads. “To where?”

  “Too late for that.”

  Suddenly, three enormous Rottweilers bore down on them, their teeth gleaming, their snarling growls filling the air.

  “Oh shit,” Iris said. “These are for real!”

  Annalee reached into her vest and pulled out a Sig Sauer sidearm, d
rew down and calmly shot all three dogs dead.

  Iris and Denny stared at her.

  “What? Sometimes you just need a fucking gun.”

  Denny stared.

  “You need to get yourself a non-magical weapon, Silver. Believe me, they come in handy.”

  “I can see that.”

  Suddenly four trees came to life and the three women found themselves surrounded by four men who seemingly peeled themselves out of the bark.

  “Iris?”

  “Real, I think.”

  “Put da goon down.”

  Annalee frowned. “The what?”

  “The gun,” Iris said out of the side of her mouth. “Put. It. Away.”

  “You sure?”

  When the tree bark boys produced rifles, Iris nodded. “Pretty sure, yeah.”

  Denny held her hands up in surrender. “We are looking for Enobaria and—”

  The four young men looked at her face and then chattered among themselves before the tallest young man said, “She be ’spectin’ you miss. Sit in da boat an’ wait here.”

  Denny looked around. “Umm, I don’t see a boat.”

  The young Haitian waved his hand through the air and as the mist cleared, a boat was revealed.

  “Don’ kip her waitin’.”

  Three of the men stepped in front of them as they made their way to the boat.

  “Not you. De Mistress wan ownee dat one.” He pointed to Denny.

  Iris shook her head. “Oh, hell no, DH. Not a chance.”

  “I gotta agree with Iris, Golden. Not a good idea.”

  “We don’t have much of a choice. We need to know what the fuck happened out here. I’ll be fine, really. After all...I’ve got this.” Denny pointed to her tattoo.

  Annalee pulled Denny to her and hugged her, slipping the Sig into Denny’s waistband. “Stay safe. Your witch...well...she’s scary when she thinks you’re in danger.”

  Denny covered up the gun. “Take care of her. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  As Denny headed for the boat, Iris mumbled a few words in Latin. “DH?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t make us come after you. It won’t be pretty.”

  Ten minutes later, Denny arrived at the cinderblock house with two rocking chairs on the dilapidated porch. Spanish moss hung like living drapes on the trees around the house, occasionally swaying in the breeze. The smell of brackish water mixed with the scent of a flower she could not name.