Denny wouldn’t do it.
It wasn’t that she was heartless—though that could definitely be the case—she just didn’t want random strangers like that girl on the steps popping into her life on some demon quest when she had her own issues to deal with.
So maybe she was being a little selfish, but she didn’t care.
She hadn’t been able to shake her visit with Quick. Everything about his story pointed to him being not only set up, but misrepresented by his lame-ass attorney. Even so, on the face of it, her brother looked so guilty. His story sounded like...well...like a story. Everything the DA had presented had shown an unbalanced Silver who had jealousy issues with his girlfriend.
It didn’t help that Quick had been such a loose cannon growing up. Actually, nothing had helped. Quick had a long history of struggles with the law. He and authority had never mixed well. He wasn’t a bad kid, just a troublemaker. The kind of kid who put cherry bombs in mailboxes to watch them blow up. He had never been mean to animals or little kids. He was just...a boy’s boy.
Well, you turn that picture sideways and what you see is a troubled kid who went on to slash his girlfriend’s throat and stab her parents over fifty times. Quick was a lot of things, but he could never do all that was done to that poor family.
Still, even Denny could hear how weak his account sounded, and it broke her heart to listen to it.
It became even clearer to her now why her Hanta hadn’t shown its hand until recently.
It knew.
Had it come out earlier, had it revealed which Silver it now had as a host, it would have put Denny in immediate danger when she was too young to know how to defend herself or protect her family.
When Sterling took up her vows, she became too hard for the Hanta to reach, so the demons went after Quick, thinking he was the next logical Silver in the legacy line-up.
Instead of killing him, they’d sent him to prison.
Why?
Why did they keep him alive?
Were they waiting to see who carried the demon within? Had they merely put him on ice?
Denny was thinking they had. If he had possessed the Hanta, it would have come out in the prison and gone after any number of demons inside those walls. Eventually, he’d have been killed. And that was why they had come after Denny and Pure—to wipe them out so the Hanta had no place to go and would die with Quick and the Hanta in prison.
Then they’d realized their mistake.
The Hanta had leapt from Denny’s mother moments before she coded in the hospital. Denny had been holding her hand, crying, begging for her to pull out of the coma she was in, and when the life support machines started ringing and buzzing, the floor swirled around Denny, bile rose in her throat, and she nearly fainted.
At the time, she did not know what was happening. It wasn’t like she’d ever been possessed by a demon before. She had no idea that what was happening to her had anything to do with watching her mother code.
The Hanta’s spirit, fearing Gwen would die, saw the chance to make the legacy transition and so it did. Then it waited silently for six years in Denny before making its presence known and, like any other animal coming out of hibernation, it was hungry.
Very hungry.
And so that’s what Denny had been doing for a month: feeding the Hanta...making sure she sated its hunger for demonic spirits. This required the killing of demons, at which she was becoming very accomplished.
Closing the door to the lair, Denny retied her running shoes and made sure her inner vest pockets contained Fouet and Epee.
As Denny opened the front door, she realized the girl had not left.
“Still here?”
“I’m a pit bull, Golden Silver, and I’ve been told you have what it takes to help me. I don’t give up so easily.”
Denny shook her head and said, “Look, I don’t know where you get your information, but I don’t have it...whatever it is.” She started down the steps past the girl, who made the mistake of reaching and to grab her arm.
Denny ripped Iris’ arm away, a low growl in her throat. “Be very careful, sweetheart.” She managed to reel it in, but not before she heard that voice.
The girls rose. “What I heard is that you...can take care of things...of people...who are not what they seem. I need that. I can’t do it on my own.”
Denny stopped at the bottom of the steps and turned back to her. “That’s just about everyone in the world. I don’t help people with their...people problems. I’ve got enough on my own plate. Sorry. Please don’t be here when I get back. You wouldn’t want to see me angry.” With that, Denny started her jog.
Jogging cleared her head and she thought it put the demon to rest—sort of like how young couples would drive a baby around to get it to sleep. Denny was becoming more in tune with the Hanta, though she was unsure if it was a good thing or not. Maybe she was just understanding it more.
She really didn’t know.
All she really knew was that it was the key to getting Quick out of jail and it kept her safe.
All other bets were off.
****
When Denny returned from her jog, the girl was still there. Irritation flooded over Denny like the sweat making its way down her spine. “I don’t know whether to be pissed off or impressed by your persistence,” she said, quickly running up the steps.
“I just want five minutes of your time. If, after you hear my story, you still won’t help, I’ll take off.”
Pausing at the door, Denny recalled her mother’s journal before jerking her head. “Fine. Five minutes. After that, you’d best not show up here again.”
The girl scurried up the stairs and into the house, where she abruptly stopped inside the door, her eyes scanning the debris and upheaval of the family room, dining room, and kitchen. “Umm...you live like this when it’s such a gorgeous house?” She pulled a face. “It stinks in here.”
Denny followed her gaze to the stack of pizza boxes and opened Chinese food containers. There were Hostess wrappers on the couch and an open bag of probably very stale Cheetos on the recliner, many of which had escaped from the bag.
“Not usually. I’ve...been out of sorts.” Denny turned her. “Coming into my home and telling me it stinks is not the way to get me to hear you out.”
The girl perked up. “Then you’ll at least hear my story?”
Denny grabbed a towel and wiped her face off. “What was your name again?”
“Iris. Iris Carter.”
“You’re on the clock, Iris Carter. Make it quick.”
Iris stopped looking at the mess and locked eyes with Denny. “I left Boston a few weeks ago because I was certain a demon was following me.”
Denny motioned for her to follow her into an equally disgusting kitchen, where she opened the still nearly empty refrigerator. There was a bottle of water in the door. “Keep talking. Time is ticking.”
“I feared for my family, so I figured if I came to Savannah, there would be someone who could help me.”
Denny plucked the bottle of water out and closed the door. “I don’t know what all you heard, but I’m not really in the business of helping people with...demons. How do you even know it was a demon?”
“I’m pretty certain I saw glowing red eyes when he was in my house one night. He is this huge, thick-browed brute of a man, I swear, but human on the outside.”
Denny wiped the mouth of the bottle. “I see. Has it spoken to you? Any idea what it wants?”
Iris shook her head, her pixie cut gently moving as she did. She was all of one hundred ten pounds soaking wet. “I don’t have any idea. He just showed up.”
Denny pounded the water down. “Tell me about your family.”
“I come from a large Catholic family with six siblings, all of whom are very successful. We’ve never been bothered by the supernatural before, but I figured if this thing wants me, he’s gonna have to travel to find me. At least he’ll be away from my loved ones.”
De
nny crumpled the bottle up. “Oh, if it’s a demon, he’ll find you whether or not your family is around. I just wonder what it is you’ve done to piss it off?”
“That’s just it. I don’t know. I just know I had to get away from Boston—get it away from my family.”
Denny understood the sentiment. “That’s admirable of you but I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place. I don’t hunt demons.”
“I can pay.”
Denny’s water bottle paused in mid-air. “I don’t need your money.”
Iris looked around the house. “Are you sure? I can clean your house. It’s pretty obvious you need a maid.”
Denny pushed past her to the front door. “And it’s pretty obvious this conversation is over.” Opening the front door, Denny waited.
“Hasn’t anyone ever just helped you out of the goodness of their heart?” Iris asked as she walked out the door.
Denny stood, hand on the door. “Actually, yes. Someone has...only by then, it was too late. Good luck hunting your demon.” Closing the door, Denny started back up the stairs to the lair.
“Rush? If you’re here, I’m certain you’re incredibly disappointed in me. Fear not—you can’t be any more than I am of myself.”
With that, Denny returned to the lair to continue her studies.
****
Gwen’s Journal
After working with Ames, I realize I must choose my battles wisely. He is such a font of information that already, I’ve learned more from him in one month than in my entire demon-hunting life.
I blame my mother.
She was, unlike my grandmother, a very reluctant hunter, wanting nothing to do with what she felt was a curse. She tried, more than once, to have the Hanta exorcised from her.
I wish she’d told me more. Pretending the Hanta didn’t exist might have worked for her, but it didn’t help me in any way. She knew I’d have to bear the same burden eventually but she refused to prepare me. She may have thought it was out of love but surely she must have also known somewhere inside herself how unhelpful, even how downright dangerous my own ignorance would be.
Needless to say, the exorcisms did not work, and so she hunted only when the demon’s hunger could no longer be contained. That was why they chose to live in the deep woods of Montana. Not many demons enjoy life in the wild. No, they tend to be city dwellers or they hunker down in the suburbs where there are plenty of humans to choose from.
My mother refused to live in either area, preferring the reclusive nature and solitude of the big, wide open spaces…spaces where she could see them coming.
I imagine she was terribly lonely.
Terribly, terribly lonely.
Anyway, Ames is a wonderful teacher. He is kind, patient, and caring. He wants me to “get it right.” There are times when I am a terrible student—when I can’t focus or concentrate. Having a family at risk will do that.
That’s why Mother sent us away to live with Dad in California. She wanted us away from her, away from a legacy that had been all around the world. She was scared and that fear had cost her her family and the man she loved.
I think it broke her heart to send us away. I can’t even imagine doing so to my beautiful children. Like Ames said, “A legacy demon can only be killed with weapons crafted during its inception. Barring that, each of you must figure out a way to live with it.”
I don’t know that I’ve figured out a way, but I do know I won’t let this legacy tear my family apart. I’ve done what I can to protect the house and safeguard my children.
The rest is in God’s hands.
****
Denny stared at the quote by Ames Walker.
“Legacy demons? That would mean—” She shook her head, once again realizing Rush was not there. “Fuck.”
Only when her stomach growled did Denny realize it had been a long time since she’d eaten. How long, she wasn’t sure. A day? Two days? It was funny how hard it was to keep track of time when one stayed out all hours of the night.
Grabbing a quick shower and then her weapons, Denny headed for the always open diner on the corner, where she sat reading the paper to see what crimes had been committed last night. It always helped know who might be skulking around in the dark with her.
Demons showed up in the news all the time, and not just as heinous felons or lowlife criminals. Demons were the politicians who voted against saving the environment. They were athletes who took the cheap shots. Demons were the women in bars looking for the men wearing wedding rings. They were those boys who set cats on fire or tied dogs to railroad tracks.
The sad fact was there were quite a few evil beings walking around tempting the lost to do horrific things. One of the telltale signs no one paid attention to was the number of criminals who told authorities they’d heard a voice tell them to do it.
A voice.
A demon’s voice.
A voice most of the world’s doctors and great thinkers denied the existence of. Oh sure, Joan of Arc heard voices, but those were of angels, right? So, she gets a pass?
Denny could only shake her head.
So many people believed in angels...angels and miracles, but demons and magic were hooey?
Seriously?
It was absurd to think civilization could have one but not the other.
As Denny caught up on the news and local criminal activity, Brianna shocked her by sliding into the booth next to her.
“Good morning sunshine. Doing homework for your next all-nighter, Shadow Girl? Or should I call you Queen of the Dark?”
Denny closed her notepad. “Are you stalking me?”
Brianna’s mouth showed the hint of a smile. “If offering a friend a hand is stalking, then yes.” Her blue eyes were particularly blue as she studied Denny’s face. “You look exhausted, but I’m glad to see you’re at least eating.”
Before Denny could answer, the waitress brought over chicken-fried steak, biscuits and gravy, and two eggs sunny side up.
“Wow. You must really be hungry. Good for you.”
Denny did not reply, but dug into the bloody steak.
“I know we’ve not been friends very long, but I care about you, Denny. I really do.”
“Well, don’t. I don’t need a hand. I don’t need your help. I just need to be left alone.”
Sighing, Brianna picked up the spoon and ate some of the gravy. “Rush thinks you need help.”
Denny did not pause as she shoveled the eggs into her mouth. “Right. Rush is long gone. She bailed. Bolted. Ejected. She’s left me to my own devices, so don’t tell me what Rush thinks because you don’t know.”
Brianna licked the spoon. “You know, I’m thinking I do, and that’s not really how it happened. See, she left you so you could join the living and have a chance at a semi-normal relationship, you self-absorbed twat—not so you could creep around at night carrying a death wish on your back. You think that is what she wants for you and your life?”
“Doesn’t really matter what she wants anymore. She is gone...which is what I wish for you to be.”
Brianna carefully set her spoon down, patted her lips with a napkin, and slid out of the booth. “Say no more, Golden Silver, I can take a hint. You want to play the martyr role, go for it, but get some help before the Hanta consumes you. I wish you well.” With that, Brianna strode out of the restaurant, leaving Denny and her heart attack on a plate.
“Everything okay here, hon?” the waitress asked, topping off Denny’s coffee.
“Okay as it’s ever going to be, Pauline.”
****
After eating, Denny felt more...human than she had in a long time—human enough to realize she’d been a horrible friend to both Lauren and Victor. She refused to admit that what Brianna had said had anything to do with her decision—she just missed them was all. Apparently, letting her friends go, even if it was the best thing to do, wasn’t in her skill set. She missed them. She missed them more than she wants to admit, so she stopped by the campus and caugh
t both of them on their way to class.
“Oh my god!” Lauren said, hugging her in a bear hug. “You’re alive!”
Victor fairly lifted her off the ground in a spine-crushing hug. “Damn, girl, it’s so good to see you! Are you back? Did you re-enroll?”
Once on the ground, Denny shook her head. “No, man, I’m not back in school, but I think I’m getting back to normal.” The lie hurt, but better she hurt by the lie than hurt them with the truth—that she seemed to be irreversibly screwed up…that she was scared, lost, and worried that she wasn’t learning enough fast enough to protect them all. “I’m so sorry I’ve been absent. I’ve been…struggling a bit and needed some time.”
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 she did not feel. “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 mean, I’ve got a demon living in me. Quick’s sentence was hard on me. Rush leaving was rougher on me. 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 slight twinge of regret as she lied.
“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.”
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