“All work and little play, eh, hunter?”
Denny kissed her. “Yes.”
“If I couldn’t, if he was strong enough to fight me, I know one who could. It’s tricky business summoning demons—especially high-level ones who do not appreciate being summoned.”
“And if he didn’t come?”
“Should Asmodeus choose not to heed the call, he would fight against it so much it’s possible that only his essence would appear. In that case, all we could do is issue a warning or communicate with him. It takes a very powerful demon to fully reject a witch’s summons, especially a witch as strong as I am. Is he that powerful?”
Denny shrugged. “Hard to say. He keeps sending his minions to keep tabs on me.”
“Well, just the fact that he has minions says a lot. Perhaps summoning one of those is a better choice. I can bring in the most powerful witches to make sure he is contained. Better you hunt him than vice versa.”
“You have a good point. Liderc might be the better of the two to bring forth. I’m not sure. I’ll have to check it out with Ames. He will definitely not be in favor of it.” Denny kissed Cassandra on the lips before jumping from the bed. “This was wonderful, but I have to scoot.”
“Where are you off to now?”
Pulling on her jeans, Denny grinned. “I’m a demon hunter, Cass. Where else, but off to hunt demons? Like you said…better I hunt them than they hunt me, right?”
Cassandra rolled over and checked the glowing alarm clock. “Three hours of darkness left. Do you ever sleep?”
“Not much. Probably not as many hours as I should. Evil never sleeps.”
There was a pause and then they both broke into laughter.
“God, did I really just say that?”
Sitting up in bed, Cassandra pulled the sheets around her chest. “Maybe I should make you a cape.”
“I’m allergic to Spandex.” Throwing her shirt on, Denny then adjusted her vest and checked her weapons.
“You know, those glowing weapons of yours are really fucking sexy.”
“They’re the only reason you slept with me, huh?”
Cassandra laughed. “Golden Silver, there are a thousand and one reasons why I slept with you.”
Bending over the bed, Denny kissed Cassandra again. “Good to know.”
Taking the front of Denny’s vest in her hands, Cassandra looked deeply into her eyes. “You be careful out there. And when you’re done, look up the book by Paige Sanders called Witches, Warlocks, and the Wiccan Way. If you’re going to do this gig, you need to truly understand the whole of the supernatural world and not just your part of it. I can help you, Denny. We can help you. Let us.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Do you want clean clothes for your…hunting?”
“Nah. I’ll just get them gross again, but thank you…and thanks for…well…for all of this.”
Cassandra smiled softly. “Remember what I said, hunter. Brianna is a fool. You are an amazing lover. Simply amazing.
With Cassandra’s final words reverberating through the night air, Denny returned to the shadows to make good on her promise to the last demon standing.
****
In the final hours of darkness, she couldn’t find even one demon skulking around before calling it a night and heading over to Ames’s house.
“Well, I don’t have to ask you what you’ve been up to,” Ames said when he opened the door. “Still looking for junk food, eh? I decidedly warned you about that.”
“I’m sending a message.”
“To whom? Your Hanta? Because believe me, it won’t matter why you think you’re doing all this killing. The Hanta only knows what it knows about being fed. Grab a shower. Breakfast will be ready once you get the guts out of all your cracks and crevices.”
“But I think I—”
“Go. I don’t want you dropping demon bits on my newly polished floor.”
Half an hour later, Denny emerged, clean and hungry.
Ames set a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her with orange slices and sourdough toast. “You’ve been out on a rampage.”
“A what?”
Ames sipped his chicory coffee. “A rampage. It’s what hunters call it when they serial kill in one night. You’ve been out doing pest control. Why?”
“The Liderc is doing Asmodeus’s dirty work. He sent a tracker…well...multiple trackers, really. He had buddies who came after me. They all paid the price.”
Ames lifted an eyebrow. “All of them? How many is all?”
Denny shoveled a forkful of scrambled egg into her mouth, not the least bit surprised by her lack of manners. “A dozen? I left one to tell Asmodeus I was coming for him.”
Ames lowered his mug. “Coming for him? Who are you? Iron Man? Jesus, Goldy, are you trying to get yourself killed?”
His reaction surprised her. “I thought I was doing my job.”
“Your job is to hunt down nefarious demons and kill them—not to go all Tasmanian Devil on any demon within arm’s reach, and sure as shit not to go after a prince. Have you lost your mind?”
“Maybe I have, but if he is hunting me, then this has become personal.”
“And personal agendas are what get demon hunters killed. I taught you better than that.”
Denny ate in silence.
“Is that why you’ve been hanging around that coven? Looking for a summoner?”
Denny stopped in mid-chew. “How did you know about that?”
Ames leaned on the counter. “Demons are one thing, but witches and demons together are tricky business. Dangerous business. I’ve not taught you anything about the dangers of a summons.”
“She said she could sum—”
“And that would be a very foolish thing to do. Have you any idea, any at all how many times a witch has summoned a demon only to be obliterated once said demon appeared? They disdain witches, Goldy, on a level you cannot possibly conceive of. What’s more, they hate being summoned, so do yourself and your little witch friend a favor and back on away from that stupid notion. There are reasons few hunters employ witches, and that’s just one of them.”
Denny finished her eggs and snapped off a corner of toast. “Fine. Geez.”
“I mean it. Let that go. Any witch who agrees to summon anything for you clearly wants in your pants or wants a power you cannot contain, because trust me, when a demon and a witch do happen to get along, hell on earth is an understatement. The havoc they could wreak.”
Her jaw hung open. “My pa—”
“Cassandra Adams has quite a reputation, Goldy. I suggest you crack open a book or ten to learn why we don’t befriend the covens.”
“Why don’t you just tell me?”
Ames sighed as he put his cup in the sink. “Because that is a road you must travel on your own. Each hunter must learn to navigate the supernatural waters they find themselves in. You are no exception. Just be sure you think from above your shoulders and not below the waist.”
“I could use her wisdom. She’s my friend, Ames.”
Ames’s face contorted with sadness before he bowed his head and sighed deeply. “What about my life story did you not hear?” Raising his head, his eyes were filled with tears. “My wife summoned a demon and it destroyed my family. My family, Goldy, was torn apart by her wisdom. I lost my son because of her craft. Use my life as a warning, before you lose people you can never get back.” Ames started for the stairs. “Come down when you’re finished; I have something I need to show you.”
Denny finished her toast as she watched him disappear.
Brianna’s words echoed in her mind: Cassandra eats women like you for breakfast.
Yeah...something like that.
She’d eaten her, alright, but it wasn’t for breakfast.
Suddenly, Denny wondered if there was more to Cassandra’s appearing at the scene last night than mere happenstance. What had her mother said about not trusting anything that was a coincidence? That coincidences ar
e nature’s way of warning us that something was about to happen.
Something.
Did that always have to be a bad something?
The more she thought about it, the more she believed that Cassandra had been following her, that her showing up was anything but coincidental.
Pushing away from the bar, Denny started down the stairs pondering the last dozen bad choices she’d made.
Falling into bed with Cassandra was one of them.
****
Denny’s Journal
I guess since Mom has one, I ought to start my own. I mean, who knows? I could have kids one day, right? Not likely, but you never know, so here it is…a day in the life of…yeah…I didn’t think so, either. I think I must be slow in the head-bone. After going on what Ames called a rampage, he gave me the straight talk about my actions…and I apparently, I needed to hear it twice because I clearly didn’t get it the first time around.
I’ve allowed my personal feelings to get in the way of making good choices. Calling Asmodeus out was childish and immature. I see that now. I only wish I’d seen it before I sent him my Hellmark card. That was a mistake.
Mistakes. I keep making them, and one day I’ll make my last.
Ames explained that often, during emotionally charged events, the Hanta’s will may creep into my subconscious, turning switches and making decisions that feel like my own. He said it could often be difficult to know which were my emotions and which were the Hanta’s.
Calling Asmodeus out may have felt like my call, but it wasn’t. I get that now. Again, I’d let the Hanta control me. I need to get a better handle on it. I need more education, more studying. I need to slow down and take my time. I need to know more about controlling the demon within instead of vice versa. I must be more aware of when it awake, when it stirs.
I need knowledge.
And just when I needed it most, Lauren showed up with a spreadsheet that categorized my thousands of books and cross-checked them in a way that would have taken me weeks, maybe months, to create. Apparently she used some sort of scanner that input the titles, which were then categorized and summed up from other databases. It was nothing short of brilliant.
And I needed brilliant.
I also finally had to acknowledge that I need a support team. I can’t do this on my own, and I can’t rely on a man who refuses to jeopardize his family by any involvement other than mentoring.
I have Lauren, Victor, Cassandra, and Rush. I also have Patterson for muscle and Ames for my training.
It’s a decent start.
Now, all I have to do is take the time to read some of my books, or at least portions of them, which is what I’ve spent the last three hours doing.
And boy, was Ames right. The summoning of a demon, any demon, is a good way to end up dead. They turn violent the moment they realize they’ve been summoned.
And yet, the witches did a favor for me once...and apparently are willing to do so again.
But why?
Power?
So much of the supernatural revolves around power, or one’s access to it. Witches are, like anyone else, corruptible. Does the power they seek corrupt them? Is this something I should worry about, or are my witches beyond this corruptibility?
That’s just it.
I have no idea.
Summoning Asmodeus would be a terrible mistake. I see that now. I am an amateur playing at being a demon hunter and I am just lucky that I’ve not been killed. I see that as well. Actually, thanks to Lauren’s beautiful indexing system and Ames’s millionth lecture, I am seeing a lot now.
I have been a fool.
Beckoning a high-level demon like Asmodeus would be a really bad idea...however, summoning the Magyar, Liderc, could very well be the ticket I need to lure Asmodeus closer. But I know Ames would never stand for it. And I realize it may be the Hanta who wants this…but does that mean it’s necessarily a bad idea?
Either way, it’s something to think about.
When I returned from Ames’s, I came straight to the lair and started to peruse the books based on Lauren’s schematics of the bookshelves. While the books themselves are not colored or encoded, the schematic is. I don’t know how she did it, but she recreated my library bookshelves in 3D on some sort of app. If a row of shelves on the schematic has yellow, blue, or pink spines, then that means those books contain data on ghosts, the supernatural, and Wicca. I can then tap the shelf in the app and it will appear on the screen with all spines readable. If I click on the yellow spine of Ghosts and the Spiritual Essence a short summary will pop up.
That girl is brilliant.
She will also save me hours and hours of wasted searches, so I can find exactly what I need in half the time.
Right now, what I need is to clear the playing field of any demons who might try to come between me and Asmodeus. That means eradicating the Magyar before he can strike again, and using him to lead old Asmo to me.
And he will.
From what I’ve read, incubi seldom just take their jacks and go home. Once they set their eyes on a target womb, they are practically programmed to keep going at it.
Iris will never be safe as long as the Magyar is alive...and, by extension, neither are the rest of the Wiccans. I will have to take him out, and now that Ames has given me a new weapon, I will be a little harder to kill.
A tertiary weapon wasn’t what I was expecting from him when I saw him last. That man is nothing if not unpredictable…a trait I need to acquire myself.
When I had followed Ames to the basement, I saw him working at the desk on what appeared to be a large-faced watch. It turned out to be something much more amazing.
Staring down at the watch I now wear on my right wrist, I can only shake my head. Like Epee and Fouet, the watch is imbued with ancient magical components. If I tap on the face of the watch, a shield that crackles like Fouet expands outwards to be about three by three feet long. The watchband acts like one of the two grips found on the inside of a Spartan shield.
It is one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.
The shield’s properties allow it to absorb the energy from the bolt of the crossbow, and once I become proficient with it, it will actually be able to re-route any projectile and send it back at the shooter.
That last part takes training time I don’t have at the moment.
The shield’s name is Scudo, which is Italian for “shield.” Scudo is as formidable as Epee and Fouet, but something I can access more quickly and with just a double-tap of the watch face.
I think a lot changed for me as I stood there watching Ames put on the finishing touches of a device intended to protect me. Moments like those reminded me of the constant danger I’m surrounded by. I mean, how on earth could I ever expect to have a normal life when I come in contact with so much evil?
I was beginning to understand why Ames is now single...why having a family was so dangerous. I was finally seeing the kind of pressure my mother was under to keep us all safe.
In short, I got a whole new level of respect for Ames and the legacy.
So, with Scudo on my right wrist, and Epee and Fouet sheathed inside my vest, I was even more protected against the menace I will soon face.
It’s time to send the Magyar to everlasting Hell.
****
Denny’s head ached from so much reading, but it had to be done. Her life, as well as those of her loved ones, depended on her being the best demon hunter she could be, and one of the best ways of becoming that was to have a better working understanding of her own demons.
Plural.
There was a demon inside her, yes, but there were other demons she needed to contend with as well.
Taking notes, she quickly sat up when she read a passage from a book on Malaysian demons. It would appear from what she’d read that someone from her ancestry had formed a pact with a djinn, and that the act of passing the Hanta Raya was a legacy known as Saka. If not passed down to a new hunter, it would take on the guise
of its last master and continue to hunt until it found a new master. If the Hanta is not passed down to a new hunter before the current one dies, the hunter’s death will be long and painful and it is possible the hunter will return as the unliving.
“I’ll be damned,” she muttered. Picking up the phone, she called Ames. When he picked up, she asked, “A fucking zombie? Is my mother dead but she doesn’t even know it? Is she a…fuckin’ a…a god damned zombie?”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t bullshit me here, Ames. I’ve been reading up on the Hantas. It says—”
“That the hunter who doesn’t pass the legacy on will die a long, horrible death and return as the unliving. I know.”
Denny stared out the window, her stomach twisting as she asked what she wasn’t prepared to ask. “That’s why she’s catatonic, isn’t it? It’s her long, painful death.”
“Your mother is alive, Goldy, she is not a zombie. Yeah, she is living with the pain of never getting to see her kids grow up, of never feeling her arms around the ones she loves, but it is not a painful death. It is a painful life if anything. Think about what you know.”
“She did give the Hanta to me. It came to me that night in the hospital.”
“But she coded in the ambulance, and then again when you were in the room. She had, in essence—”
“Died.” Denny closed her eyes. “She’d already died. Twice. That’s what coding is, right? Little deaths.”
The phone was silent.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Dashing your hopes that she might one day wake up isn’t something I wanted to do. She isn’t going to wake up, Goldy. She…she can’t.”
The words pierced her heart like glass shards. “Because...because she is dying.”
The line was silent for ten seconds. “Yes. Yes, she is.”
A loud sigh escaped Denny’s lips as her heart broke even more. “And the zombie thing?”
“Happens to some—not all, but it does happen. I won’t lie to you, Goldy.”
“Odds?” Denny grabbed her pen.
Ames hesitated. “Eighty-twenty, more or less.”
The Demon Within Page 21