The Demon Within

by Linda Kay Silva

  Denny’s eyes narrowed. “If we have so much money, why didn’t we hire a better lawyer for Quick?”

  Sterling glanced away. “I tried. It was such a slam dunk case, gosh how I dislike that phrase. No one wanted to take it because it was a sure loss. I had no idea at the time how much their win and loss records mattered to attorneys. And then…” Sterling shook her head.

  “What?”

  Sterling heaved a sigh. “It seemed as if people were actually afraid to take the case. It was like…like…”

  “Like someone had intimidated them?”

  “Threatened, intimidated, that’s how it felt. So when Tyler Jones came along—”

  “I can’t believe that piece of shit came to you.”

  Sterling nodded. “Language. That should have been my first clue, but I wasn’t thinking at all very clearly. I’m afraid I chose poorly.”

  Denny reined in her anger. “I understand. You did the best you could. I just...how come I didn’t know any of this? When were you planning on telling me?”

  “Between the accident, becoming a nun, and Quick’s trial, there just wasn’t time to sit down and explain the finances.” Sterling placed her hand on top of Denny’s. “I’m sorry if I often forget you’re not a little girl any more. I suppose it is time to replace the image of that tomboy of yesterday with the woman you are now.”

  Denny nodded. “I get that. I really do. Sometimes, I forget you haven’t always worn that habit.”

  “Maybe it’s time we both replaced old photos with new ones.”

  “I’d like that, Sterling. I really would.” Denny sighed. “You can hand the financial responsibilities to me now, Sterling. I’m not a little kid any longer.”

  “I can do that.”

  “And the other piece, about Mom and Dad?”

  Sterling rose and looked into Denny’s eyes. “I would never have told you had you not asked. Bursting your imaginary bubble about our family life is not a task I relish. Even now, I can see the pain in your eyes…the truth is often such a bitter pill to swallow. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, I so wasn’t expecting this. To hear that our folks had problems after all these years of thinking we were the Cleavers is a little unnerving. I guess it’s true you can’t trust the memory of a ten-year-old, huh?”

  “Or anyone else’s for that matter. Can you imagine how difficult it was for Mom to balance family, a husband, and demon hunting? It must have been incredibly unnerving.”

  “Not to mention social activities and running the house? No, I can’t. I can barely juggle eating and breathing, let alone having someone special in my life. I guess a part of me sees this as a solo-only gig.”

  Sterling took Denny’s hand in both of hers. “I may wish and pray that you fall in love with a man some day, but I would rather you have a woman by your side than for you to do this alone. Everyone needs a helpmate, Golden. Everyone.”

  “Look how well that worked out for Mom. I don’t know, Ster, I’m pretty certain alone is my best option.”

  Sterling released Denny’s hand and brushed her hair from her face. “Search your heart for that truth, love. Being alone is a choice—one I’d rather you not make. Surely there is someone out there who’s caught your eye and made you think that maybe...just maybe...she could handle all this?”

  Denny looked down, Rush’s words coming back to her. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t approve.”

  “Oh Golden, you do not need my approval. All I want is for you to be ha—”

  “She’s a witch.”

  Sterling blinked. “A...what?”

  “A witch.”

  “A witch?”

  “Wiccan. Witch. Tomato. Tomahto. Yeah. She’s a regular spell-casting, potion-making witch.”

  “Oh. Um, I see.”

  Denny chuckled. “She’s not a Satan worshipper, though. Most Wiccans aren’t. She just...you know...can do magic.”

  “Magic.” Sterling’s voice was flat.

  Denny laughed. “Sis, I’m possessed. I carry a demon inside me. Is magic really such a stretch?”

  Sterling surprised her by laughing. “Well, you’ve got me there. As long as there is no Satan or Hecate, or evil spirits involved, then how bad can she be?”

  “She’s not bad at all. I mean, on the scale of evil, I score much higher than she does.”

  Sterling smiled. “There is nothing evil about you, Golden. You’ve always had the biggest heart. That heart deserves to be loved.” Rising, Sterling walked her to the door. “I just have one question.”

  “Just one.”

  A smile curled on her lips. “The Cleavers? Really?”

  Denny laughed. “Blame Rush and that damned Nickelodeon.”

  “Is she watching Bewitched, too?”

  “Aren’t you funny?”

  Sterling hugged Denny and whispered, “I just want you to be loved, Golden. Even if it is by a witch.”

  ****

  Sterling’s final words kept reverberating through the air long after she drove Denny home.

  A quick shower and Denny was out the door and on the way to the coffee shop where she hoped she might find a moment to catch Brianna alone.

  Inhaling courage, Denny walked into the coffee shop, her eyes looking for Brianna.

  When Brianna saw her, her face started to light up, then, as if she caught herself, it fell off her face and transformed into a scowl. “Johnny, will you wait on this next customer? I have some work to do in the back.”

  “Wait. Can you take a break?” Denny asked.

  Brianna hesitated. “Why? There really isn’t anything you have to say that I want to hear.”

  “Come on. Five minutes. I just want five minutes.”

  Brianna looked over at Johnny, who nodded. “Fine. Give me a second.”

  Sitting at a corner table, Denny’s hands felt clammy. She was more nervous than she wanted to be, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what Sterling had said…what Rush had intimated.

  Yes, she did deserve to be loved, to have a partner who understood right out of the gate what she was getting into. She deserved to feel cherished and comforted, to be held when she was afraid.

  And Denny was afraid.

  She wasn’t afraid of dying or even of being hurt. She was more afraid of letting people down—of not doing the right thing. She was afraid she wouldn’t learn enough fast enough, that she wouldn’t be good enough. And finally, she was afraid she might never be strong enough to handle the demon within.

  Setting two cups of coffee down on the table, Brianna pushed a pastry in front of Denny.

  “I noticed you stopped drinking tea, so I hope coffee was a good choice.” Her voice was cold and antiseptic.

  Pulling the cup to her, Denny nodded. “It is, thank you. How have you been?”

  “Busy. You know...doing life...going to school. Busy.”

  Denny waited for Brianna to ask her, but she didn’t, so Denny pressed on. “Are you too busy to grab a bite to eat with me this weekend? I think there are a few misperceptions go—”

  “I have a date.” The word date clunked to the table like a dead fish staring up at Denny with one dead eye.

  “Oh. I didn’t realize...” The rest of the sentence was lost to her tongue as the seconds slowly plodded along. “Is it…is it with that woman who was in here the other day?”

  “No, and that’s all the questions you get to ask about that.” Brianna leaned forward. “Look, Denny, you disappeared for weeks. Weeks! When you finally resurfaced, when you finally got your shit together and pulled your head out of your ass, you were someone else and I’m pretty certain me and that new person won’t get along.”

  “But I’m better now.”

  “So am I. The world didn’t stop turning just because you were killing your way to a feel-good moment. I’ve moved on.” Brianna rose and picked up her coffee. “I need to get back to work.” Turning to leave, she stopped. “Oh, and you need to be very careful of Cassandra. She eats women like you
for breakfast, spits out the bones, and then comes back for them after dinner.”

  Denny watched Brianna scoot back behind the counter.

  Taking a bite from the pastry, Denny approached the counter, leaned over it and said, “If there’s anything I can say that will make this bet—”

  “There isn’t. I was a good friend to you and you treated me like shit. I don’t give people like you a second chance to treat me that way. You know what Maya Angelou said. ‘You teach people how to treat you.’ Consider yourself taught.”

  ****

  Denny couldn’t avoid thinking about Brianna and trying to discover more about the incubus. Was there a link between the incubus who’d come after Iris and the demon responsible for forcing her parents off the road? Was there some greater plan she knew nothing about? Why did the incubus need a progeny when it had a weapon that could kill the Hanta? And, to quote her mother…who the hell was Asmodeus?

  Usually, Lauren was all over this stuff. Why had it taken her so long? What was Denny missing? It was like putting a puzzle together when she didn’t know what the picture on the box was.

  Denny spent hours combing through books, notes, journals, and files, trying to put the Magyar in the same location as the one who killed her parents.

  After seven hours of research, she’d had no luck...until the doorbell rang and the red light blinked, saving her eyesight and curbing her frustration.

  Denny ran down the stairs and opened the door. It was Lauren. “Hey you, come on in.”

  “I would have called you with this, Den, but I needed to see you in person.”

  Denny held the door open while Lauren walked in. “I was just thinking about you. You find anything out?”

  Lauren shook her head. “You know I have, Den. What in the hell have you been doing with your day?”

  Denny tilted her head at her. “What haven’t I been up to? Wanna see my lair?”

  “Your...lair?”

  “Come on.” Taking Lauren’s hand, Denny pulled her up the stairs. “I want to hear what you found out, but you, of all people I know, are so gonna dig this.”

  Opening the lair, Denny motioned for Lauren to enter.

  “Jesus, H...Denny.” Laurent stood, slack-jawed, as her eyes took in the thousands of books. “This...Oh my god. This is amazing. I think I just had a literary orgasm.”

  “Eww. I don’t want to know what that feels like, but go ahead. You can touch them. Just touch. They won’t bite. Wait. No. Just kidding. They won’t.”

  Lauren walked up to the first bookshelf and caressed the spines as gently as she would the face of an infant. “Some of these are—”

  “Centuries old, yeah. I’ve been meaning to show you, but...well...the wheels fell off my wagon.”

  Lauren tilted her head to read the titles on the spines. “I...I am speechless.”

  “Yeah, so was I. Speechless. Impressed. Awed. And, quite frankly, scared shitless.”

  Lauren quickly plucked a thin book out like a child might when sneaking a cookie. “The Malleus Maleficarum? Seriously? Denny….this is…priceless. Seriously. Priceless.”

  Denny leaned over Lauren’s shoulder, her chin resting on it. “What’s that?”

  Lauren was carefully turning the crispy pages. “Malleus Maleficarum is Latin for the Witch’s Hammer. This...oh my god, is this...an original? This is priceless. Seriously.”

  Denny shrugged. “No clue what it’s worth. What’s the Witch’s Hammer?”

  “The Malleus Maleficarum was a sort of operator’s manual for torturers during the Inquisition.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Lauren turned to her. “This, my friend, is a torturer’s handbook, written by two Catholic crackpots in the fifteenth century.

  “Get out.”

  “Seriously, Denny, and truth be told, it is probably worth a fortune. The Maleficarum was one of the first pamphlets printed on the infamous Gutenberg printing press. It’s also one of the most famous medieval treatises on witches. It was written in fourteen eighty-six by Heinrich Kramer and Jacob Sprenger, and was first published in Germany in fourteen eighty-seven. Its main purpose was to challenge all arguments against the existence of witchcraft and to instruct magistrates on how to identify, interrogate and convict witches.”

  Denny grinned. “I love it when you go all genius on me.”

  Lauren continued. “Both men were members of the Dominican Order and Inquisitors for the Catholic Church, which states that the pamphlet was on the banned list. That’s never really been proven. Whether or not the work was ever officially banned by the Catholic Church, the Malleus Maleficarum became the de-facto handbook for witch-hunters and Inquisitors throughout Late Medieval Europe.”

  Denny perked up. “That’s around the time my family became hunters.”

  “Right. The handbook was written expressly for people like your family, only these bozos didn’t hunt demons. They hunted and tortured witches.”

  “Handbook? That’s just gross. I wish I knew more Latin. I feel at such a loss.”

  Lauren grinned and waved her hand in Denny’s face. “Hello. Again. Have you met your posse?” Lauren opened the thin book and read aloud in Latin.

  “You can read that?”

  “Well, it would take a long time to actually understand all of it, but I could eventually.” Lauren gingerly slid it back into place. “This is my crack and you’ve just become my pusher. Marry me.”

  Denny laughed. “God, I’ve missed you.”

  “You don’t have to, Den. You know where I live my life. You just...you got so lost there for a while, no one could reach you.”

  “Well, I’m back now and ready to rumble. Step away from the crack, librarian, and tell me whatcha’ got for me.”

  “Oh, Right. Sorry. I just got all glamoured by all those ancient tomes. Does that laptop get the Internet?”

  “Why yes, it does.” Denny woke the laptop up before pulling the heavy wooden desk chair out for Lauren. “She’s all yours.”

  Lauren had the laptop purring in seconds. “Okay, I dug deep for info on those names you gave me. Let’s start with the scariest dude of them all. Asmodeus is a Demon King known as one of the Seven Deadly Princes. Each prince is responsible for one of the seven deadly sins. Guess which one our guy represents?”

  “…Lust?”

  “Ding! Give that girl a gold star. He is responsible for twisting people’s sexual desires, but that’s not where his real power lies.”

  Denny leaned in close, looking over Lauren’s shoulder.

  “In the Malleus Maleficarum he is considered a prince of revenge.”

  “Revenge?”

  Lauren nodded. “Revenge. Though he seldom gets his own hands dirty. He sends his minions after those he is vengeful towards.”

  Denny’s next words were hushed. “Does that mean he was vindictive toward my mother? Think he was exacting vengeance on her?”

  “Your mother? Is that what this is about?”

  “I don’t know what this is about yet. I just know that these names pop up in her journal and I am trying to figure out all of the players on the board.”

  “But your mom?”

  Denny shrugged. “I’m just chasing some leads so the more info I have, the better prepared I will be when the shit hits the fan.”

  Lauren saved the file. “Do you think this is the guy responsible for forcing your mom off the road? Is that why you are such a dog on a bone?”

  Denny read it again. “This is the guy in charge of it all. I’m certain of it.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Denny pointed to the screen. “Read further down. It says he walks with a limp.”

  “And?”

  “And I read something in one of my mom’s earlier journal entries about a man with a limp watching the house. I’ll bet it was that guy. He was watching her, stalking her.”

  “Same guy and the same body? That seems unlikely. I’ll keep digging.” Lauren looked at all the books. “You need to le
t me categorize these books. There are over, what, three thousand of them?”

  “Three thousand one hundred twenty-five.”

  “Well, you need some sort of order, or code.” Lauren looked at her. “Let me do that for you or you’ll never find anything in here.”

  “You know, it would be great to know what each book is about without having to peruse it.”

  Lauren beamed. “Excellent. I’m all over it. Thank you. I’ll have your own personal demon library up in no time.”

  “You’re so weird.”

  “Me? Umm, you’re the one with a demon inside you. So, about these other names. Rasputin was a Russian dude that has nothing to do with demons, so I am still digging. Valeria has no connection historically. The name means brave. And a Liderc—”

  “I know more than I want to about those bastards. Good work. Keep digging about Asmodeus.”

  “The answer is probably in one of those books. When I have time, I should be able to find it. So...what do you need to know next?”

  “I need to know how to kill it.”

  “Kill ‘it.’ You mean Asmodeus?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I know you’re probably getting really good at this and all, but this cat’s a prince. Dontcha’ think it’ll be tough just getting to him? I mean, he has minions after all.”

  “I’m sure he does. I’m not afraid.”

  “And that knowledge isn’t even going to slow you down?”

  Denny shook her head. “Not even a little.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I know what I’m doing in here. I’ll organize everything so you know what’s what. You might have some very important books here and not even know it.”

  “You’re a dream.”

  “Yes, I am, and you can spread that rumor around...preferably to good looking men with money.”

  This made Denny smile. “Good. Then let’s put it on our to do list.”

  Lauren rose. “First things first. That pocket door sucks. You need a better door, a better lock, and a better system all the way around. You need to protect your shit better.”

  “What do you have in mind?

  Lauren grinned. “Oh, grasshopper, wait until you see what I have in store for you.”