Demon Within (The Silver Legacy Book 2) Page 7

  Lauren sat under an elm tree and held one of Denny’s hands. “We’re just so glad to see you. We’ve been so worried.”

  Denny forced a smile. “Rush leaving and demonic possession pretty much derailed me. I didn’t know if I was coming or going, or what. I just needed time, you know? Time to sort through my life. I’ve got a demon living in me. Quick’s sentence was hard on me. Rush leaving was rough. I’m thinking anyone in my position would go around the bend.”

  “Well, apparently, there was no food around that bend. You’ve lost a lot of weight. And by a lot I mean a helluvalot.”

  “Yeah. I’ve not been eating much, but I’m back in the saddle. You don’t have to worry about me so much now.” Denny felt a twinge of regret.

  “You coming back to school?”

  Denny shrugged. “Not quite yet. I need more time. I’m feeling pretty bruised. I don’t feel like I can focus enough to sit in a classroom.”

  “So what have you been doing?” Victor bowed lower when he asked, his bald head shining in the light. “Not eating. Not going to school. Lotsa nots.”

  Denny watched a Jack Russell leap for a yellow Frisbee in the quad. “Therapy.”

  Lauren squeezed Denny’s hand. “Oh Den, that’s a brave thing to do, and I am so glad.”

  Denny returned her gaze to Lauren, feeling more like the devil than her demon for lying to her friends. “It’s really helping.”

  They sat together for almost an hour, sharing exploits of the last month. Denny realized how much she really missed them in her day-to-day life, but also how vulnerable they were by being in it. Her coming out now changed nothing.

  When it was time for the next class, Lauren and Victor hugged Denny goodbye and made her promise to meet them for dinner later in the week. As Denny watched them walk away, her heart ached. They were wonderful people, good friends, and the salt of the earth.

  They also deserved to be demon-free.

  And that was a gift she could give them.

  Even if she had to die doing so.

  ***

  She was on her way to The Office bar when Reese called.

  “I’ve found something fascinating,” Reese said excitedly. Denny noticed she seldom said hello.

  “Hit me.”

  “The woman across the street from Lisa’s house did see an unfamiliar man that day.”

  Denny perked up. “Seriously?”

  “Said some guy bolted out the front door and then walked casually down the street. She said she told the investigator this, but he didn’t seem interested.”

  “Is this a joke? How can this be the first we’ve heard of this?”

  “Well, I did some digging and the investigator was from the DA’s office. Not a uniformed cop. Something is fishy, Denny. Something isn’t right at all.”

  “How can she know it was the guy who framed Quick? It could have been anyone.”

  “She said her Dr. Phil show was getting ready to start and she was closing the window when she saw him.”

  Denny switched ears with the phone. “Shit. You know what this means?”

  “It means nothing right now, Denny, unless you want to put that neighbor at risk...but yes, I know what it means. Your brother was at least telling the truth about that.”

  Denny swallowed back some tears. “My God...I hadn’t really dared hope.”

  “Well, don’t go throwing a party yet. We have a ton more legwork to do before we can even entertain the idea of going public with this.”

  Denny resumed walking the dark alley. “Oh, I get that––”

  Some disgusting man on a stoop grabbed his crotch and said, “Wanna get this?”

  Still holding her phone, Denny walked over to him and punched him in the throat. He doubled over, one hand still on his dick, the other clutching his throat.

  “So what now?” Denny walked away, continuing her conversation with Reese.

  “Well, we need to find out why that report didn’t make it into the trial. She said an investigator by the name of Hoffman interviewed her.”

  “So there’s a report somewhere.”

  “A missing one, yes.”

  Denny stopped walking when she saw Oscar pacing in front of the bar. “I appreciate this Reese. Anything else?”

  “Yeah. Keep this under wraps. Anything happens to that woman and we’re back to square one.”

  “Roger that. Good work, Reese. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet––we just now entered a horse in the race. I’ll keep you posted.”

  Pocketing her phone, Denny walked up to Oscar. “Got my list?”

  Oscar nodded. “Jesus, Golden, at least buy a brother a drink.”

  Denny had drunk more in the last month than in her entire life––and she was pretty sure it was because of the Hanta. “Fine. One drink, then I’m outta here.”

  Sitting at the bar, Denny looked over at a loud group of college guys arm-wrestling. The testosterone was so thick it was practically tangible.

  “Never mind them. Just a bunch of drunk students screwing around.”

  Denny ordered a shot of Jameson and one for Oscar as well.

  “The list.”

  “Geez, Denny. All work, huh?”

  Denny shot back the Jameson’s and motioned to the bartender for another. “My brother is in prison, Oscar. Unjustly. I need that list.”

  Sliding it over to Denny, Oscar slammed the shot back. “Nice.”

  “Thank you for this.” As Denny pocked the list and started to slide off the barstool, her eye caught the eye of the large bald arm-wrestler. He smiled at her before making an obscene gesture with his mouth.

  Denny glared at him a moment. The familiar heat of the awoken Hanta flooded through her extremities. It stirred within, even though the bald guy was no demon. Just another asshole.

  This wasn’t the first time the Hanta wanted to harm a normal human.

  Slapping a ten on the table, Denny motioned for the loser to vacate the seat.

  The bar got quiet for a moment before the two dozen or so young men erupted into laughter.

  Pushing her sleeves up, Denny cracked her knuckles before sitting down, never taking her eyes off the bald guy.

  “I’m feeling pretty lucky tonight, Bubba.” She put her elbow on the table. “I’m thinking I can take you.”

  Bubba laughed. “You have got to be shittin’ me. Honey, I’ll break you in two, so why don’t you take your feminist flag and go fly it somewhere safer.”

  Denny looked around. “Nah. I think I got this.”

  Everyone laughed louder.

  Not one guy bet on her.

  Standing, Denny addressed the group. “Is there no one who will bet on me? Surely one of you has a teeny bit of faith in the impossible.”

  Silence.

  “I will,” said a thin, lithe, young Persian woman, pushing her way through the rowdy crowd. She waved a twenty dollar bill. “I believe. I’ll bet on you.”

  Denny lowered her gaze at the young woman. She had flawless skin, piercing brown eyes, and perfect lips. She was beautiful.

  Bending over to whisper in the woman’s ear. “You’re about to win big, sweetheart,” Denny said. “Trust me.”

  The woman smiled with only one side of her mouth. “Good. I seldom bet on losers.”

  Denny looked into those brown eyes and sensed someone worth getting to know. In another life—another time. “Good to hear.”

  Reaching across the bar, Denny grabbed her shot and tossed it back. “Looks like this beautiful woman is gonna win big.” She slammed the empty shot glass back on the counter before sitting across from the large, sweaty bald man she called Bubba.

  “Hon, you can still back out,” Bubba said.

  Denny smiled. “So can you.”

  The place went wild with raucous laughter and applause.

  Bubba slammed his arm on the table. “I’ll go gentle, sweetheart.”

  Denny put her arm back up on the table. “I won’t.”

  After g
ripping each other’s hands, they locked eyes. The moderator of the games kept his hand on theirs. “You know the rules. No turning your wrist, no using your body, and if your opponent slaps the table, you must stop wrestling immediately. Ready...set...wrestle.”

  Much to the surprise of the crowd, their arms stayed upright for a moment...and when Denny’s hand wasn’t immediately pinned, the noise died down to a stunned silence.

  She grinned.

  “What the fuck?” Bubba growled, looking around at the audience. His hand started shaking, a look of panic filled his eyes. “No fucking way.”

  Denny looked at the nails of her free hand as if bored. “Looks like fucking way, dude. Come on, man. Is that the best you got?”

  Bubba growled, his arm shaking more. “Ain’t...happening...”

  “Apparently it is. Give up?”

  “You ain’t pinnin’ me, bitch.”

  “Oh, but I am. You know, I would have just pinned your sorry ass, but you had to go call me names. You’re done here, amigo.” And with that, Denny slammed his hand on the table with such a loud thud, the table broke.

  The crowd went wild. The bald loser glared at her as he rubbed his sore wrist. “Bitch.”

  “Don’t be a sore loser, dude.”

  “You ain’t normal.”

  “Ah, come on, Rick. She beat you fair and square.”

  Denny reached her hand out for the money. The bouncer handed half to her and the other half to the Persian woman among a raucous crowd. It was a sizeable amount.

  “How did you do that?” the woman asked, sidling up to Denny.

  Denny smiled before returning to the bar where she laid a couple twenties in front of Oscar.

  “Jesus, Denny. What the fuck was that?” Oscar glanced at the money before locking eyes with her. “I...”

  “Jesus had nothing to do with it. There’s more where that came from if you dig deep enough, Oscar. I’m looking for two guys in particular who might have had it out for Quick.”

  Oscar slid the money to his vest pocket. “You got my attention now.”

  Denny leaned in. “Don’t want your attention. I want answers. You see what you can do for me, okay? You come up empty and take my money, I’ll do more to you than I just did to that Bubba. Are we clear?”

  Oscar nodded, eyes wide.

  When the bartender slid another shot over to Denny, he said, “That was incredible. On the house.”

  Denny handed him a hundred dollars before slamming back the shot, enjoying the burn as it slid down her throat. “For the table. Sorry about that.” She reached inside Oscar’s vest and pulled out a twenty, then stuffed it in the bartender’s shirt. “Thanks.” To Oscar she said, “We’ll be in touch.”

  As Denny started through the crowd, people were quick to get out of the way.

  When she got out to the cool night air, she realized she was slightly buzzed. How many shots had she had?

  Making her way down the darkened street toward the cemetery, she felt that tingling sensation at the base of her skull.

  She was being followed.

  Whipping around, fist in the air, she was surprised to see the Persian woman, eyes bugging out of her head as her hand went to her mouth.

  “Oh. You. Sorry.” Denny lowered her fists. “Can’t ever be too careful, right?”

  The woman gingerly stepped up to her as one might approach a feral dog. “You were amazing back there. Really, though, how did you do that? He must outweigh you by one hundred and twenty pounds.”

  Denny leaned forward, catching a whiff of Chanel Number Something as she did. “Trade secret. If I told you, I’d have to kill you...”

  “Nadir.”

  “Beautiful name.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What can I do for you, Nadir?”

  She held a business card out for Denny. “I won’t beat around the bush. You don’t seem like the kind of woman who wastes any time, so feel free to come by my place tonight so I can properly thank you.”

  Denny looked down at the card, at Nadir, at the card, and back at Nadir before she finally understood.

  Being lovers with a ghost for three years had stunted her social growth, to be sure, and suddenly Denny realized Nadir was coming on to her. Big time.

  “Oh. Later. Yeah. Sure. Give me an hour or two?”

  Nadir stepped into Denny’s space. “I’ll give you much more than an hour. See you then.”

  Denny watched in silence as Nadir disappeared down a side street.

  Since she’d only been with Rush, Denny had had very little experience with human flirtation and seduction. She’d never cheated on Rush and had never given another woman a reason to think she had a chance.

  Except maybe Brianna.

  That had been the very first time Denny had realized she could be attracted to another woman. That she missed human contact. That she was actually attractive to other women. And though she’d not cheated on Rush, she had wondered how much longer their relationship could last.

  “Hey. Freak!”

  Denny slowly turned, the energy of the Hanta immediately returning, sending blood pumping through her muscles.

  “You sure as shit aren’t talking to me, Cue Ball.”

  Her defeated adversary stood ten feet away, his arms across his barrel chest. “Big talk for a chick who cheats.”

  Denny crossed her arms over her chest and chuckled. “Cheats? I didn’t need to cheat to beat you, Smoothie. I’ve arm-wrestled little girls tougher than you. So why don’t you go powder your head and leave me the fuck alone before you do something really stupid and I make you pay the price.”

  Denny turned on a dime and, just as Bubba launched himself at her, she stepped aside, grabbed his wrist in a wrist lock, and drove him face first into a brick wall. His nose crunched on impact.

  “And that, my bald amigo, constitutes really stupid.” Denny shoved his face harder into the wall, blood now running down his chin.

  “Fucking cunt. Let go of––”

  The next sound was the snapping of bone, followed by a curse-filled cry. “You broke my fucking wrist!” he yelled, his face bleeding against the wall.

  Denny released him and stepped back, watching him turn around. “You know how women hate the C-word, right, cowboy? That was poor decision number one.” The voice was all Hanta.

  His nose bled down his mouth and he wiped it with the back of his good hand. “I’m gonna fuck you up for that, you bitch.”

  Denny spun around and dislocated his kneecap with the heel of her Doc Martens. The popping sound reverberated through the alley.

  He howled as he fell, his leg now cattywampus. “My leg! Fucking A, you broke my leg!”

  Towering over him, Denny leaned over. “Coming after a woman you outweigh by at least a hundred pounds is such a dick move, it’s all I can do not to barf all over you.”

  He lay there grimacing and swearing under his breath.

  “Next time you think about calling a woman a cunt, I suggest you remember how this feels. Oh, and don’t ever show your face in that bar again. You do, and I’ll be sure to let everyone know you got your ass kicked...by a cunt.”

  With that, Denny shoved her hands in her pockets and ambled away to the sounds of grunting and swearing behind her.

  “Cheat? Oh yeah,” she said to herself as she made her way to the cemetery. “If being possessed by a badass motherfucking demon is cheating.”

  Once there, she clambered atop a different mausoleum and sat like a gargoyle overlooking the gravesites.

  “Damn,” she said softly as the Hanta’s influence dissipated. “Dude, you need to get a grip sometimes. His wrist, I get, but his knee?” Denny shuddered, remembering the sound it had made. “He’ll never walk right again.”

  In Rush’s absence, Denny had found herself resorting to talking to her demon. In an odd way, it made her feel less alone.

  She was tired of being alone––tired of the skin hunger. She missed Rush. She missed being held. She missed sex.


  Pulling out Nadir’s card, Denny hopped down off the marble and made her way back into town.

  “All righty, Hanta, let’s see what sex with another human feels like.”

  Thirty minutes later, she would find out.

  ***

  After Nadir said, “Come on in,” no more words were spoken between them.

  Denny stepped into the apartment, took Nadir’s face in her hands and kissed her long and deep. It was a Hollywood kiss Denny had longed to have with Rush when they were together. A kiss long overdue. Part of Denny wondered how much of the kiss was her and how much was the Hanta. The Hanta loved sex almost as much as it did the hunt. Maybe the two were one and the same to it.

  In the end, it didn’t really matter because that kiss went on and on, until Nadir finally had to pull away to take a breath.

  Nadir took Denny’s hand and pulled her into the bedroom, where they resumed the kiss while shedding their clothes in a slow, sensual manner that belied Denny’s deep-seated lust.

  Yeah. The Hanta was stirring whether she wanted it to or not.

  Once Nadir was completely naked, Denny held her by her hips and gently pushed her to sit on the edge of the bed. She lowered Nadir to the bed before kissing her neck and upper chest, like she had always done with Rush. Rush used to love it when Denny spent ample time on her more than ample breasts.

  Rush.

  Denny had to force her from her thoughts. This was real. This was what she had longed to have with Rush their entire relationship.

  Denny lightly bit Nadir’s neck, shoulder, and breast before latching on to her large nipple and drawing it into her mouth, causing Nadir to inhale a quick breath.

  So this was what a real nipple felt like in her mouth. The spiritual plane had not done it justice, and Denny ran her tongue all around the edges as if she could lick it right off.

  The only sound in the room besides their deep breathing came from an alarm clock perched on the nightstand with its relentless tick-tocking, as if to remind Denny that she still had a job to do. That she was wasting precious time.

  Traveling from Nadir’s breasts to her flat stomach, Denny played with both nipples while her mouth searched for, and found, Nadir’s engorged clit.

  Denny smiled suddenly, her tongue lightly caressing the hot, silky button she knew beat to its own tempo. It, too, was softer and harder than in the spiritual realm where she’d made love to Rush. As Nadir lifted her hips, Denny released one breast and gently stroked the soft slit that was steaming with anticipation.