Demon Within (The Silver Legacy Book 2) Read online

  “So basically, you’re telling me––”

  “You’ve been reeling in fish you ought to have just thrown back.”

  Denny nodded. “I get it.”

  “No, hon, I’m afraid you don’t. Since you’ve been feeding it crap, it’s come to like the taste of it. So when a low level demon’s energy is nearby, the Hanta comes to life because it knows crap is near, and it loves crap now.”

  Denny nodded. “Crap.”

  “Right. And from what I can tell, you’ve been feeding it lots of crap, so you’re gonna have to put it on a diet and regain some of the control you so easily gave up.”

  “I can do that, but I can’t do it alone. I...I’d like another shot at training with you.”

  Ames studied her a moment. “I don’t typically give people a second chance, Goldy. I’m a very busy man who––”

  “I won’t screw this up, Mr. Walker. Please, just give me another chance. I have what it takes to be an outstanding hunter––”

  “As long as you control the Hanta and not vice versa. But you’ve lost the controls and now you want to get them back.” Ames slid off the stool and picked up a long silver cylinder about four feet in length.

  “And I can. I just––”

  Ames smacked her shin with the pole.

  “Son of a bitch!” Denny grabbed her calf.

  “You’re going to have to prove to me you have it under control.”

  “Seriously? You did not just hit me with––”

  He hit her other shin, only harder.

  Denny slid off the stool, rubbing both shins. “Jesus Christ, what the hell––”

  “Reel it in. Already, it’s come to the surface.” With another deft move, he hit her elbow. This time, Denny’s hand reached out like lightning and she snatched the pole right out of his grasp.

  “That...is...enough,” the Hanta voice growled.

  Without hesitation, Ames dropped to a leg sweep that knocked Denny onto her back. “With reflexes like that, I’m surprised you are still alive.”

  Denny leapt from her back to her feet in one swift motion, pinning Ames against the wall with the pole to his neck. “I said...enough.” The Hanta voice was deep, scratchy, and commanding.

  “Nice voice.” Ames pushed out. “Even nicer red eyes. Yeah, solid control, Goldy. A couple of smacks to your body and he flies off the handle? Pathetic.”

  Denny’s chest heaved in and out. “Who...you...cal––”

  “Oh for Christ’s sake, are you that far gone?” With surprising swiftness, Ames head-butted Denny right on her forehead, sending her reeling backward.

  “Control, Goldy. Come on. It’s your body––your emotions. Fight for your life back, because if you don’t you might never see it again.”

  “Bullshit. Nobody smacks me around and lives to tell about it.”

  Ames shook his head. “Yeah? Well then bring it, badass. Let’s see if you and your Goddamned Hanta can beat up an old guy.”

  Denny lowered her head for a charge that did not come.

  Ames waited.

  And waited.

  Denny raised her head, her chest heaving in and out.

  “There you go. It’s like a genie in a bottle. You have the cork. Push back. Take control.”

  For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, ever so slowly, Denny shook her head––her eyes back to normal.

  “Thatta girl. I knew you could do it.”

  “I barely have it.”

  Ames walked over to her. He stood, feet firmly planted three feet apart, weapon at the ready. “Barely will suffice for the time being.” Leading her back to the stools, Ames returned to his. “You can’t imagine how disappointed I was that you fell off the face of the earth. You have your mother’s courage and cunning. You’d make a great hunter.”

  “I still want to be. I know I screwed up, Mr. Walker. I am aware of just how far off the reservation I’ve been, but my lack of caring may have cost a young girl her life, and if that doesn’t rattle someone’s tree, I don’t know what will. Consider me rattled.”

  Ames squinted as he looked at her. “You understand if you vanish again, if you quit, if you bail, or if you walk away because you’re frustrated, we’re finished. Done. I won’t teach you one more damn lesson.”

  “Yes, sir. I fully understand that.”

  “And if you question me, undermine me, or act like a horse’s ass in here, I’ll kick your ass so hard, you’ll be a hunchback.”

  Denny nodded and tried not to smile.

  “Good. Now why don’t you tell me what brought you here in the pouring rain crying in the first place.”

  Denny inhaled a deep breath and told Ames about Iris’s request for help, her rejection of any help, and what she found at the hospital. When she finished describing Iris’s face, a single tear rolled down her cheek. Denny wiped it away and stared at her wet fingertips. “Wow. I almost forgot I could do that.”

  “Haven’t shown any emotions lately?”

  Looking up at him, she shook her head. “Not until today.”

  “That, too, is a result of the Hanta. You see, its job, across the board, is to protect you––all of you. While it will allow you to feel strong or powerful emotions like anger, hatred, or confidence, it will try to seal you off from emotions it considers weaker. Fear, sadness, guilt.”

  “Empathy?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. A Hanta that’s allowed too much control is hazardous to your physical, emotional, mental, and even spiritual wellbeing.”

  “I don’t want that.”

  Ames smiled softly. “I know. You’ve been out hunting, out killing and wreaking havoc, and now you have a score to settle, don’t you?”

  “For Quick?”

  “No. For this Iris. She came to you for help. Your job, as a hunter, is to help. You just got a bitter taste of what happens when you don’t. You don’t turn your back on those who demons have targeted, Goldy. You just don’t.”

  Denny nodded, feeling her eyes well up with tears. “Her...her face...”

  Ames put his arm around her. “When is the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”

  “Sleep?” She forced a chuckle. “Is that on the shelf next to eating?”

  Ames raised one eyebrow. “You’re all sorts of messed up, kid.”

  “I don’t get much sleep these days.”

  “Because?”

  Denny searched for the right answer. “The Hanta doesn’t need sleep?”

  “Bingo. Come.”

  Denny followed Ames up the stairs to a second story guest room laid out in lavender and white. A four-poster bed made of dark cherry sat regally in the center of the room opposite a matching vanity. One wall was light lavender, another a darker shade, and the baseboards and crown molding were pure white.

  “Oh. My.”

  “I understand that’s one of the most comfortable beds in all of Savannah, and you’re going to get in it right now and sleep until you aren’t tired anymore.”

  “But Iris––”

  “Can wait. You have a full belly, better control over your Hanta, and now, you need a good night’s rest. I insist.” Ames slowly backed out of the room. “There are fresh pajamas in that armoire. Sleep tight.”

  When Ames was gone, Denny stripped down and tried on the cozy pajamas. They fit perfectly.

  Snuggling down under the comforter, Denny heaved a loud sigh. She could feel her muscles relax as she sank into the pillow-top mattress. “Oh man, I need a new bed.”

  As she lay there, she willed her mind to be quiet, to rest, to stop its racing. She forced the Hanta back into the recesses of her soul, where it had been lurking for over half a decade.

  She hadn’t realized how emotionally and physically exhausted she was.

  As she was dozing off, her eyelids fluttered for just a moment and she could have sworn, for the briefest of moments, she saw Rush hovering near the window, her face a mask of concern.

&nbs
p; “Rush?”

  “Shhh. Sleep baby. Just sleep. Everything is going to be okay.”

  ***

  She dreamt of Rush all night, her laughter filling the air at every turn. They’d had so many laughs together in their three years. Rush had been her savior after Denny’s parents’ accident—never leaving her side, never telling her it would “be all right.” Denny thought she loved her more for it, for the constant surveillance over the years. Was she eating? Shouldn’t she get more sleep? Who would watch over Pure? She had been a lover, a friend, a mother, a sister, a confidante. Rush had been everything Denny needed rolled into one wonderful ghost.

  But you can’t love a ghost forever––not without sacrificing the living. Rush knew this. Hell, Denny knew it. It reminded her of the fifth grade and being told she must stop pretending. Denny hadn’t wanted to stop pretending, hadn’t understood what was wrong with playing.

  Of course, she figured out later why, but that hadn’t lessened the sadness and longing for her pretend friends. They had been real to her.

  So, when Rush came along, as if one of her pretend friends had come to life and loved her, she was ready for the bizarre ghostly love Rush had to give. And yet, in the end, she’d had to give Rush up, too

  Rolling over, Denny stared out the window at the breaking dawn. She had slept all through the night for the first time in forever.

  Then Iris’s face popped into her head.

  Denny slowly eased out from the warm confines of the extra cozy bed, grabbed a quick shower and found her clothes from last night washed and folded on the bed. After dressing and brushing her teeth with a new toothbrush that lay on top of her folded clothes, she smelled the familiar scent of bacon frying and banana nut bread baking.

  Her stomach reminded her that she loved both, so she hustled downstairs to find Ames cooking in a black apron that said, “Don’t kiss the cook. You don’t know where my mouth has been.”

  As she sat on her stool, she checked the clock over the doorway that read a little after six in the morning.

  “I can’t believe I actually slept through the entire night. I haven’t slept through the night in a month.”

  Ames poured her coffee and slid the mug to her. “Actually, you didn’t.” Handing her the cream and sugar, he smiled softly. “You slept through two.”

  “What?”

  He nodded. “It’s Friday. You slept all day yesterday.”

  Denny stretched. “No way.”

  Opening a waffle iron, Ames plucked one out, ladled all sorts of berries on it, covered it in whipped cream and handed to her. “Way. Because the Hanta doesn’t need sleep or rest, it doesn’t often recognize when the host does. It’ll run you into the ground without realizing that’s what it’s doing. Your level of exhaustion tells me you came awfully close to full possession, and you don’t want to know how hard it would have been to get you back.”

  Cutting into the waffle, Denny said, “You’re right. I don’t want to know because I never want to get that close again.” Denny sighed. “I’ve been out that long? Jesus.”

  Ames put two pieces of crispy bacon on her plate. She eyed the skillet. He pushed two more pieces onto her plate. “You have to be more careful. Your Hanta has been in a state of torpor for many years. It is awake, hungry, and slightly out of balance, which is one reason you are as well.”

  Denny looked into his eyes. Time for the truth. “There are other...well...more personal reasons why I’m all jacked up.”

  Ames nodded. “Those who fight monster must pay close attention that she does not become one. It happens all the time to those who haven’t studied the right material or learned the right things. I don’t want to see that happen to you. So eat up because we have a lot of work ahead of us.” Ames leaned on the island. He wore a button-down, blue-collared dress shirt, grey slacks, a black belt and a frown. “Your friend Iris is out of ICU. Looks like she’s going to be fine. Well, not fine. She’s going to live.”

  A sense of relief washed over Denny. “Thank God.”

  “They’ll be back for her, though, so we need to talk to her and see what she’d like you to do. We need more information about her and her family. I take it you’re in?”

  Denny had to nod vigorously because her mouth was crammed full.

  “Excellent. Then we’ll visit her after lunch.”

  “And before lunch?”

  Ames pushed off from the island. “We’re going to pick up where you left off. Training. Training. Oh, and did I mention training?”

  An hour later, Ames was kicking Denny’s ass all over the mat.

  And she’d never been happier for it.

  ***

  After the fourth phone call, Denny pocketed her phone and turned to Ames. “That’ll do it.”

  “Good. From now on, you don’t bail on me, you don’t bail on your people, you don’t creep around at night. You don’t ask for trouble. You don’t look for assholes. You. Just. Don’t. Are we clear?”

  Denny nodded.

  “Good, because there will be no second chances with me. I can’t stress that enough.” Ames started for the front door.

  “We’re going to see Iris and then you’re going to go home and get your life in order. Clean yourself up. Get back into the lair and start educating yourself about Hantas and this path you’re on. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. You’re a hunter now, Goldy, and that means you are responsible for those hunted by demons. You are either all in or you’re out. You don’t get to play in the grey zone. You don’t get to be Switzerland. You don’t get to risk your life because you’re sad or bummed out or brooding. You have a job to do. It’s a job. You got that?” Straightening his jacket, Ames headed for his car.

  Denny got into the battered Range Rover’s passenger seat and buckled up. “I got it.”

  “You are a legacy hunter, and that means this is your life. You don’t get to play fast and loose with it like you’ve been doing. So, are you in or out?”

  Looking out the window, Denny sighed. “I’m in.”

  “Good, because that little gal in the hospital room needs you. And there will be others who need you as well. They will come from all over the country seeking your help. You better get used to that, and you better learn when to pick your battles, otherwise you’ll spend every waking day fighting. You understand?”

  “I do.”

  “Starting with Iris. You turned her away and something terrible happened to her. You can’t bathe in the guilt, Goldy. What’s done is done. Are you ready for this?”

  “I am. Let’s do this.”

  ***

  Twenty-five minutes later, they stood at the doorway of Iris’s hospital room. Monitors beeped and wheezed and the lighting was dim, but bright enough to see her battered and bruised face.

  Ames peered into the room. His hand slowly covered his mouth. “Jesus, whoever did this did a number on this kid.”

  Denny stared through the window at Iris’s purple and red cheeks with its cuts and scratches. “Yeah. Yeah, they did. I...I should have stopped it.”

  “You have a chance to right that wrong, not wallow in your bad choices. Not everyone gets that chance in life.”

  Denny stood outside the room and watched Iris’s chest slowly rise and fall. She looked so frail in the big white bed, so young.

  “Go on.”

  Denny stared at him.

  “I’ll be out here. No sense in scaring the poor girl. I doubt she wants any man in her room at the moment.”

  “Yeah. Right.” Inhaling a breath of courage, she walked in.

  Denny hated hospital rooms with a passion. She was fifteen when her mother had lain in a bed similar to this one, fighting for her life. Denny had come every day after school and stayed until the nurses kicked her out, usually long after visiting hours were over.

  Those dark days had been the worst of her short life. The waiting and wondering if Gwen would live or die––then the waiting to see if living like a
coma patient was all the life she had left.

  Watching a parent waste away in a hospital was akin to a slow torture, and when Quick snuck in one night and pulled all of the plugs, Denny understood why.

  But Gwen didn’t die.

  At least, not in the conventional sense. The doctors could find no reason for her catatonia. None. So when the time came to move her, Sister Sterling stepped up and found an assisted living home. Quick had called it assisted dying. He hated the place and never went to visit. Once Gwen left a hospital room like this one, all four of their lives had changed forever.

  Pulling a chair up to the bed as she’d done so many times before, Denny sat next to Iris and held her hand. To her surprise, Iris opened her one good eye. It took her a moment to register who sat by her bed.

  “Oh. It’s you.”

  Denny blinked to keep the tears at bay. “Yes, it’s me, and I am so very, very sorry I let this happen.”

  Iris licked her stitched lips and asked for some water, which Denny held for her while she sipped from a straw.

  “It’s not your fault. It was too much to ask. I just thought––”

  “It was the right thing to do. I was...wrestling with my own demons, and losing, but I’ve got it under control now. I’m just so, so sorry.”

  Iris released Denny’s hand and laid her palm against Denny’s––a gesture her mother would have made.

  “But you came. You came to see me.”

  Denny shook her head. “More than that. I came to help you. I came to do what I should have done before.”

  Iris smiled slightly. It made her face lopsided. “Really?”

  “Really. Please forgive me for being such an ass.”

  “Everyone has their own burdens in this life, DH. Please don’t apologize any more.”

  “DH?”

  “Demon hunter, silly.”

  Denny squeezed Iris’s hand. “Are you up for some questions?”

  “If you’ll hold my water for me, I’ll answer whatever you want to know.”

  Denny turned the straw toward Iris. Her lips looked like hamburger and her left cheek was horribly swollen and bruised. Half of her face was purple and black.