****
“You did what?” Ames’s voice rose slightly. “Have you lost your mind? You’re beating up and blackmailing a district attorney?”
“Well, that’s one way of looking at it.”
Ames shook his head. “You’ve started something you’d better be ready to finish.”
“I’ll finish this, Ames. I’m not afraid.”
Ames slammed his fist on the table. “You should be, god damn it! Jesus, Goldy. You’re just like your mother!”
When the last word flew from his mouth, both of them watched it hover between them for a moment before it clunked to the floor.
“Since you brought her up...”
Ames shook his head. “I’m sorry, Goldy. That wasn’t fair. Your mother—”
“Is dying. She’s dying for a reason. Why don’t we start there, Ames. What does Asmodeus have against my family?”
Ames paced across the floor. “I was hoping you’d have read the accounts in your mother’s journals by now.”
“I haven’t, and I don’t have time for games or guesses. Why is this prick after my family? I know you know.”
Ames ran his hands through his hair. “It’s not your family he has issues with.”
“No? Coulda fooled me.”
“He is after your Hanta.”
Denny’s mouth hung open. “My...”
“Yeah. The Cliff Note version is that centuries ago, your Hanta and the Magyar had...issues.”
“Wait. Start from the beginning.”
Ames paced across the room. “Asmodeus is the Demon of Sin. His machinations are long in the making, often taking centuries, if not millenia to construct. He loves masterminding insidious and inexplicable intrigues, moving his forces of evil like chess pieces on a board that encompasses both the spiritual and the corporeal planes. He employs spies and plants in every court. It’s a game to him, Goldy. A game of cat and mouse, and he is a very patient cat. Your DA is just one of those pawns, your Hanta just another game.”
“So he’s more fucked up than I realized.”
“Not just fucked up, Goldy. Powerful. Very, very powerful. He has more cultists than any other demon. Mortals who worship demons actually draw power from him. His impact can be felt in all levels of society, with his followers being men and women with influence and personal magnetism that makes them natural leaders.” Ames sighed. “That’s his background in a nutshell. What you want to know is why he has issues with your Hanta.”
Denny folded her hands on the table. “I can’t even believe I’m discussing some ancient demonic grudge match.”
“Oh, this is more than a grudge, Goldy. This was a betrayal of the worst kind...at least in Asmodeus’s twisted mind.”
“My Hanta betrayed him?”
Ames poured a tall glass of cranberry juice. “Your mother spent a great deal of time digging into your ancestral past because she believed that by having a better understanding of the Hanta, she could control it more.”
“She was wrong. There is no such thing as controlling it, is there?”
Ames shook his head slowly. “At best, you can hold them at bay, but you’ll never fully bring it under control. Not now. You’ve given it too much free reign and now, you’re paying the price.”
“Did she give up trying to control it as well?”
“Yes, but that woman—” Ames shook his head, “was the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. Until you.”
“So you tried to talk her out of it?”
He chuckled. “We had many an argument about it, but she was convinced there was a reason your family was saddled with the Hanta.”
“And did she find that reason?”
Ames turned to the window, looked out onto the dark night, and nodded. “She did. She gave me bits and pieces over the years, but the real story is in the lair somewhere.”
“In her journals?”
He turned back to her and shook his head. “In The Histories.”
Denny frowned. She’d not seen anything like that in the lair. “The Histories? I know I don’t know every title in my library, but—” Then she stopped.
“What is it?”
“I know who does. Could these histories be hidden in another book?”
“Absolutely. The key to figuring out which book it could be is to think like your mother. Where would she have hidden such important familial information?”
Denny rose. “I don’t know, but I will soon enough.”
Ames reached out with lightning quick reflexes and grabbed her wrist. “Goldy, don’t do this. You’re not ready.”
“No? And when do I get ready, Ames? The Twelfth of Never? He got to my mother, my brother, and Pure. What would you have me do? Wait around for him to get me?”
Ames slowly shrugged. “No. I’m not suggesting that at all, but you need to understand that Asmodeus seldom fights his own battles. Surely you’ve seen that. Even if you do succeed in getting Quick out, it doesn’t mean Asmodeus will take the bait and come for you. At best, you can hope he backs off and gives you room to live your life before trying to get to you through the back door.”
“You mean this life? He might allow me and my Hanta respite from his attacks or he might just lie in wait?”
“Precisely. One day, Goldy, you will be strong enough, wise enough, potent enough to go after him, but not today. Not tomorrow, not in five thousand tomorrows. You have to trust me on this, kid. I’ve been reading up on the Magyars and Asmodeus, and he is more powerful, more evil than I ever thought. I wrote to a historian friend of mine, and what we think we know about Asmodeus is far from the whole story. You go after him and he will not only crush you, but everyone you love. Think about that.”
Denny slowly rose from her stool and started for the door. “If knowledge is power, then I suppose the first thing I have to do is know.”
A lopsided smile played on his lips. “Absolutely. Find The Histories and see what all transpired back in the day. The more you know, the less you’ll hurt. Piece as much of the whole story together as you can.”
As Denny started out the front door, she stopped and asked, “Why didn’t she tell you the whole story?”
“Because she couldn’t…you can’t. In order to protect you from being tortured or telling people who shouldn’t know, The Histories are imbued with a protective spell that prohibits its words from leaving your lips.”
“You have got to be kidding me. Jesus, Ames, is there no end to the voodoo shit that goes on in the dark side?”
He smiled patronizingly. “Welcome to the supernatural world, my friend.”
****
The night owl, Lauren, was still up when Denny called and explained what she’d learned from Ames and the DA
“The Histories, huh? No, I never saw anything like that.”
“Damn.”
“In English, that is, but much of what’s in the library is Latin or French. Give me a second.”
Denny drove on through the moonless night marveling at the thick darkness. She had really gotten used to seeing through the shadows. “Thank you.”
“You know, if you’re going to be playing in the devil’s sandbox, you ought to get yourself back to school to learn Latin.”
“I’ll do that once this danger is over.”
Lauren laughed good-naturally. “Right. Because your life is really going to stabilize someday. You’re possessed, Den. Your life will never truly be your own until you figure out a way to be the mistress of your domain.”
Denny could hear Lauren’s fingers tapping the keyboard.
“Wait. Italian, French and Latin are all too obvious. Let me che—Bingo! There’s a big fat multivolume tome called Die Geschichten—which is German for The Histories.”
“I need to put you on the payroll.”
“Right? I so rock.”
“How many volumes?”
“Ten. You know, I tried to open the first three, but they wouldn’t open. I figured they’d glued shut over the years. I didn’t wan
t to risk ruining it, so I ordered a special book repair kit so I can keep your library finely tuned.”
“Do you know how weird that sounds?”
“We’re way past weird, Sweet Pea. I guess I ought to brush up on my paranormal weirdness, huh?”
“Or something, yeah. So this Geschichten book could be the histories I’m looking for.”
“That’s my best guess. Oh, one other thing. Mind if I swing by tomorrow and install a better door mechanism?”
“Sure, I’ll leave the door to the lair unlocked.”
“Not wise. I’ll open it, and when you get back, I’ll show you how to use it.”
“The door?”
“The whole security system needs updating. We’ve been working on it in my Comp Sci lab since I first knew you had one. I think you’ll be impressed.”
“As always. Thank you.”
“Be careful out there, demon hunter, and remember to take some time to visit with those of us who are not possessed.”
“Will do.” Hanging up, Denny quickly returned home and entered the lair, where she scanned the shelves until she came to the first volume of Die Geschichten. Pulling out the six-inch leather-bound book, she gently set it on the desk and started to open it just as Rush appeared. Denny could tell immediately from the expression on the ghost’s face that she hadn’t forgotten their disagreement at DA Carol’s house.
“What the fuck is the matter with you, Denny? A little girl? Seriously? Have you lost your mind? What is wrong with you?”
“I did what I had to do to—”
“Bullshit. You keep letting that demon do things and say things to fulfill your agenda. The Denny I know would never, ever have pulled a knife on a child. A child, Denny!” Rush fully appeared now, sitting on the hutch of the roll-top desk. “You’re losing yourself, baby. The woman I know and love would never do the things you’ve done. Ever.”
“The woman you loved is dead, Rush.”
“No, she’s not. She’s in there. I know it.”
Denny rubbed her temples. “She...I’m not that person anymore, Rush. I...I think and do things that are violent and angry. I kill shit, for God’s sake.” She looked up at Rush. “That’s what I am now. A killer. And I’ll use anyone and anything to protect my family from those bastards.”
“Even a child?”
“Anyone.”
Rush suddenly knelt in front of Denny. “But that’s not the core of who you are, baby. The core of Golden Silver is kind and sweet, nurturing and giving. You have a tender heart and a loving soul. You’ve just let that demon within take up more real estate than you should, but you’re ultimately in control, love. You have to remember that.”
Denny looked down into the soft features of the only woman she’d ever let inside her heart. “You think I want to feel these things, that I want to—”
“I think you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. You’re so busy running around protecting everyone, you haven’t taken the time to learn how to control it.”
“The Hanta?”
Rush shook her head. “The feelings. You’re a lot like the Incredible Hulk. Once your emotional state overcomes you, the door to the Hanta’s room slowly opens. Your mother used tai chi and meditation to combat that and keep the door closed.”
Denny stared openly.
“I watched your mom a lot, Denny. She was...is a fascinating and brave woman who accepted the Hanta responsibility with her shoulders thrown back. She refused to allow it permanent residence in her heart.”
Denny cast her eyes at the floor. “And you think I’ve let it move right in.”
“Oh, love, it’s not your fault. It’s not like you were prepared for this.”
“Isn’t that the truth? It’s been a game changer.” Denny looked into Rush’s face.
“But it doesn’t have to be. You have the ability to pull up the reins and take charge. You just haven’t taken the time to learn how yet.”
Denny looked up at her. “But I need to.”
Rush smiled at her. “Yes, yes you do. But not right now. Right now, you need to get that prick off your back. I understand that, but you can’t go around picking fights with demons who could kick your ass into next week.”
Denny stared into Rush’s eyes for a long time. “I’ve really missed you—missed us.”
“‘Us’ is right here. It just looks a little different is all. I’m right here, baby. I’ll always be right here. On that, you have my word.”
“I appreciate that. I really do.”
“There’s one more thing, love. Whenever your mom needed to know something she couldn’t find in the lair, she went to the one who knows the entire history of the legacy.”
Denny stared at her. “You don’t mean…”
Rush nodded. “Your demon knows everything. You share the same body, but you share much more than that. Try it. It can’t hurt.”
“That’s brilliant.”
“Maybe, but I can’t hang around to watch. It used to give your mom terrific headache.”
And then she was gone, leaving Denny with the first tome of nearly a dozen to get through.
She didn’t have this kind of time.
Shelving the book once again, she fingered the spines. “You know, I may not know which history to look up, but you know, don’t you? Rush is right. You’ve had a front row seat to this whole game.”
Closing her eyes, Denny opened her mind and allowed the Hanta access into her life. She could feel it, like a drug creeping into her system, and it slowly woke up and accepted the invitation.
“You know what I want—what I need—where will I find the information I need about you and my legacy? Where. Is. It?”
Keeping her eyes closed, she felt the door to the Hanta’s room open as if it were peeking out. She would control this thing if it was the last thing she did.
Opening her eyes, she studied the spines of the books, all the while feeling the demon tremble inside her.
Tremble?
What was in these books that would make the demon feel as it did?
“Come on, you pussy. Step up here. We’re gonna fix this thing once and for all.” Denny allowed the door within her to open slightly more. “You can do it.”
Waiting as still as she could...barely breathing...she felt the demon take over and ever so slowly, she walked across the small room, her left hand rising, and pulled out a book that wasn’t even one of The Histories. It was titled Here and Now.”
“No, no, that can’t be—”
A clicking sound from behind her made her turn around. When she turned, she did not see anything out of place, but as she moved to the bookshelf that held The Histories, she realized there was a false wall that had opened a couple of inches.
“No way. Seriously? Gee, Rush, ya think you could have told me?”
Rush’s sudden appearance surprised her. “You know, Denny Silver, I may have lain with you and done all sorts of erotic maneuvers with you, but even my deep, deep love for you doesn’t negate the promises I made to your mother years ago.”
“You promised my mother—”
“That I would never tell you where anything was or help you out in any way where the lair is concerned. She said finding out progressively was the only way to truly make the lair your own.”
“Gee thanks—”
“You don’t understand. These lairs...they are not just places or libraries, or even secret alcoves. They are...organic. That much I understood when she first showed me.”
“Organic? You mean...like—”
“Like a living organism, yes, and each one connects to the others.”
“I thought you couldn’t tell me.”’
“I can’t tell you any details about this lair, but I made no such promise about the generalities. I’m surprised Ames Walker hasn’t mentioned it.”
“Yeah, well he’s pretty tightlipped about a lot.”
“Especially where your mother is concerned. She had a lot of people helping her ou
t. This tiny bit of info is the least I could do to help you. Just don’t ask me to break any promises I made to Gwen because I won’t do it. Not even for you, love. She trusted me with a great many secrets, and I intend on keeping those promises.”
“So...being organic and connected explains why we’re able to read each other’s entries...why the blood ink.” Denny nodded. “It’s beginning to make a little more sense.”
Rush moved through the wall and into a room almost as large as the lair.
Denny slowly took the room in. The rectangular space measured about fifteen by fifteen, with a small bookcase on the left. Three large steamer trunks lined the wall on the right and a single highback leather chair with brass tacks sat in the corner beneath an electric lamp. The room looked like something out of the Victorian era.
“What the hell?”
Rush hovered just off the ground. “The lair’s job is to protect knowledge, to convey wisdom, and to keep secrets. This is the room in which it does all three.”
Denny walked into the room and a motion sensor flicked on a row of overhead lights.
“Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any weirder...” She turned her head sideways so she could read the spines.
“These...these are the real Die Geschichten.”
Rush hovered next to her. “Apparently. Gwen came in here to read all the time.”
“And here are all of Mom’s other journals.” Denny counted a dozen leather-bound diaries. “She was busy.”
“Yes, she was, but not doing what you think. Keep looking around.”
Denny walked over to the three trunks and carefully opened the one on the left.
“Oh...wow.” Denny pulled out a three-foot long cylinder. “What have we here?”
“Don’t mess with it in here, Den. Wait until Ames sees it. You don’t want to chop off an arm or a leg.”
Denny set the cylinder aside and pulled out a tattered leather jacket. “I...I don’t remember ever seeing her wear this.”
“She only wore it at night when she went out. Like you do. That was her favorite fighting gear.”
Denny tried it on. It was a little big on her, but it felt so good knowing it once covered Gwen’s skin. “How do I look?”
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