The Demon Within

by Linda Kay Silva

  “And you must destroy it the second it completely leaves the body. If you are too early...well...you’ll destroy both host and demon as usual. If you are too late, the demon could flee to anyone nearby and possess an innocent person.”

  Denny nodded at it with her chin, as the realization washed over her that that was what had happened to Magdelena. “Show me.”

  Pulling his own cylinder out, Ames threaded it through the loop in his pants before holding either end of the Saugen.

  “Stand behind me, Denny, because I don’t want your Hanta fighting to stay in your body.”

  Denny didn’t move. “If you can pull my Hanta from me—”

  “I can’t. It’s far too old and way too powerful for a mere mortal to destroy with this weapon. The only weapons I know for sure that can pull a Hanta from you are those crossbows of the Magyars. I just don’t want it fighting for no reason.”

  “How is it you can use her weapon without wearing my necklace?” Denny held out the triquestra charm on a chain that allowed her to use Epee and Fouet.

  “I am a trainer, Goldy. It is what I do. Besides, there are just some things you don’t need to know. You’ll just have to trust me.”

  Stepping behind Ames, Denny watched as he held the Saugen away from his body.

  “Once you put your energy into it, you can easily separate the two sections.” Ames concentrated a moment before pulling the two pieces apart. As soon as they separated, lightning arced from the left one to the right one and a wind came out of nowhere. It was like they were suddenly in the middle of a lightning storm.

  “The Saugen creates a vortex!” Ames yelled above the wind and crackling thunder. “Touch the host and the demon begins to exit from the chest.”

  Denny was mute with fascination and fear. In the back of her mind, she wondered if it was really her fear she was feeling, or the Hanta’s.

  Maybe it didn’t matter where it came from. Fear was fear.

  “Your mother—she encountered problems with the next step.” Ames threw the two pieces a couple feet above his head, where they reconnected. As they reconnected and started to fall, he pulled out his staff, hit it on the ground, and caught the Saugen in his left hand while cutting through the air with his fiery weapon.

  The wind stopped instantly and Denny’s fear went with it.

  Facing her, Ames shrugged like a kid who’d nonchalantly shot his hundredth free throw in a row. “The timing has to be perfect.” Ames handed the Saugen back to her. “She could never get it down. It was too much juggling of weapons for her, I think.”

  “That...that was...” Denny took the Saugen from him. It was warm.

  “Cat got your tongue?”

  Denny nodded.

  “Your mother just couldn’t make the transition. It takes years of practice.”

  “I can understand why.”

  “Yeah, but for those people who are possessed by minor demons, it’s a helluva lot better than the alternative. You can exorcize them without killing the host. Where did you find it again?”

  “In a trunk in a secret room with her hunting gear. I’d like to see more weapons like this.”

  “I’m sure you would, but you can’t use any of it. Hanta weapons have to be handed down.” Ames pulled up a stool and motioned for Denny to sit. “Your Hanta, because it’s older, has more weapons at its disposal.”

  “So...someone, somewhere, had this crafted in Germany?

  “Yes.”

  “Is it the older of the weapons I have?”

  Ames stared at her. “Ask what you really want to ask, Goldy.”

  “Tell me about Hildegarde von Bingen.”

  Ames looked down at his folded hands. “So, you found The Histories.”

  “I did. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “I thought you’d have figured it out by now. A demon hunter doesn’t simply hunt demons. They hunt knowledge. They search for secrets, they discover mysteries. This gig isn’t just about killing. It’s about putting all of the pieces together. That, my friend, you have to do on your own...when you are ready. When the Hanta feels it’s time.”

  “The Hanta.” Denny nodded.

  Ames shook his head. “As odd as it seems, as counter-intuitive as it feels, the Hanta is your guide. It senses when you are ready for a new lesson or upgraded experience. You located The Histories because it allowed you to. It isn’t just within your soul. It is everything you are now.”

  “So we’re…partners?”

  “Of sorts. In a symbiotic sort of way. So...what are your thoughts on old Hildegarde?” he asked her.

  “Eight hundred years before feminism and this chick was turning the world on with her smile. She was pretty amazing.”

  Ames frowned. “Turning the world on with her—”

  “Sorry. It’s from an old Nickelodeon show. Rush watches a lot of seventies shows. Hildegarde was like the first feminist, right? I mean, she didn’t know that’s what she was, but she was, huh?”

  “She was much more than that. Hildegarde was a prolific writer who was allowed to live because Magdalena had the brilliant idea to become the ally of the Hanta. She sacrificed her love of Christ and her community at the abbey for Hilde.”

  “Would she have killed herself?”

  “That would have sent her soul to Hell, and there was no way she was going to let that happen. Even if she could kill herself…which she couldn’t.” Ames pulled a dagger from the wall and handed it to Denny. “Put that to your chest.”

  “What?”

  “Pierce the skin with the tip. Go on. You aren’t in any danger.”

  Denny tentatively took the dagger and placed the tip on her chest.

  “Now push it. Trust me, Goldy. You’ll be fine.”

  Denny put a small amount of pressure on the handle and felt the tip puncture her skin.

  Then something amazing happened.

  “What the fuck?” Her hand trembled as she tried to keep the tip on her chest—an invisible pressure was pushing the dagger away from her.

  “It would never let you end your own life, Goldy. Your death without any legacy candidates nearby would mean its death as well. So, as altruistic as Maggie was, she could never succeed with her plan. My guess is she tried. Probably more than once. Eventually, she gave up, chose to cut a deal, left the abbey, fell in love, had a child, and the legacy continued.”

  “All to save Hildegarde.”

  “Yep, and she did just that, and the deal she made with the devil is one that has continued, unstoppable, until this moment.”

  “So, Asmodeus has suddenly decided to go after his lost minion.”

  “Oh, it’s not so sudden, and not the first time, either.” Ames put the dagger back. “But you didn’t read about that, so I’ll stop here. You need to find out that bit on your own.”

  Denny looked at the cylinder. “The Saugen. It’s German, right?”

  “And?”

  “And so was Hildegarde.”

  Ames grinned. “Very good.”

  “But why her? Why would a high level demon like Asmodeus care about a young nun?”

  “Well, you read her bio, right? She was much more than just a nun. So very much more. She had visions, you know, and she wrote four books about them.”

  “She wrote three.”

  Ames grinned. “She wrote three that were discovered. There is, according to the Vatican, a fourth book of visions called Occidis Daemon Intra.”

  “Which means what?”

  Ames leaned forward and took Denny’s hands in his. “You really need to learn some Latin.” Ames ran his hand through his hair and heaved a sigh. “Hildegarde von Bingen wrote the fourth novel for you. The English title is Kill the Demon Within.”

  “For me?”

  “For your legacy, yes.”

  Denny swallowed hard. “What does she say—”

  “No one’s ever found it. The Vatican claims it was lost or stolen. No one is certain they ever really had it, b
ut the Vatican Library is tighter than Fort Knox.”

  “So...wait. Let me get this straight. This amazing twelfth-century nun wrote a book explaining how to kill demons?”

  “No, Goldy. Not demons. Hantas. Hildegarde had a string of visions about killing legacy demons and she penned an entire book about them.”

  “But it’s lost?”

  Ames shrugged. “It’s entirely possible Asmodeus got to it. No one knows. It hasn’t been seen in centuries.”

  Denny let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “He was afraid of her.”

  “Who? Asmodeus? Oh, they all were. Her visions were, according to most theologians, spot on interpretations from God.”

  “Like Joan of Arc?”

  He nodded. “Pretty much.”

  “And you say the book is gone.”

  “Yes, but she still accomplished so much in her lifetime. She lived to be eighty-something years old at a time when the life span was around forty.

  “I need to know more about her.”

  “You need to know more, period.” Ames slid off the stool. “If you’re planning on going after the Magyar tonight, which, by the way, I am still against, there are still a few tricks I need to show you with the shield.”

  “Tonight? How did you know?”

  Ames chuckled. “You’ll never figure it out, will you? Now step on up so I can show you how to stay alive.”

  ****

  Staying alive proved to be a far more gut-wrenching experience than she had anticipated, and came much sooner than she was ready for.

  When Denny finished with Ames, it was late afternoon and she returned home to find Lauren finishing up with the installation of the pocket door.

  “You’d have thought my lair is Fort Knox or the Vatican. Jesus, Lauren, that’s—”

  “Necessary, if you plan on remaining in the demon hunting business, Denny. Your mother was no techie, and the door, while hidden, is not hidden well. An axe could whack it down in nothing flat. No, you needed a sturdier door with the very best security money can buy.”

  “But you—”

  “Am a poor student? I know. Don’t worry. I traded for the door and the security components.”

  I raised my eyebrow. “Traded what, exactly?”

  “Oh, a little of this and a little of that. Don’t worry, Den, I didn’t prostitute myself on your behalf.”

  Denny stared at the contraption on the wall inside the closet. It looked like something out of Star Trek or Avengers.

  “That’s a Biometric Retinal Scanner. It reads—”

  “My eyes. Yes, I know. What’s the number pad for?”

  “Well, to keep people from plucking your eye out to get in there, they also need the security code. It’s a safety mechanism. Go on...you can punch up to six numbers.”

  Denny did. Then Lauren operated the retinal scan and the metal door slid back silently.

  “Where in the hell did you get—”

  “Told you. A few favors here and there. Nothing to concern yourself about.”

  But she was concerned. Although she may have seemed like a harmless book nerd on the outside, Lauren often dallied about with the underbelly of society. Said it kept her edgy. There had been a time when Denny was as concerned for the edgy librarian as Lauren was for Denny now.

  The scanner and passcode worked, the door slid back beautifully, and Denny’s lair was safer than it had ever been.

  “Well, thank you for all your hard work.”

  Lauren waved this away. “Oh pish posh, there was nothing hard about it. It was a labor of love. Someone has to keep watch over you, missy, what with all your running hither and thither at night.”

  “Hither and thither? Really? Who talks like that?” Denny smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Denny, this demon hunting gig...it’s permanent, isn’t it? I mean, all this—” she spread out her arms and turned around. “It’s your life now, right?”

  Denny nodded and gently pulled her from the lair. “It’s looking that way, yeah.”

  Lauren sat on the bed and folded her hands in her lap. These were questions Denny had been waiting for from her.

  “Go ahead and ask. It’s the least I can do for all you’ve done for me.”

  Lauren tilted her head. “Do you like it?”

  Denny sat next to her. “Like what? Creeping around at night? Killing people that explode all over me? Feeling, at times, out of control because the demon inside me becomes too hungry, too angry, or too strong?” Denny shook her head. “No, Lauren, I don’t like it, but I can either accept it and do my best to keep Savannah safe, or I can chain myself to my room and wait to die.” She shrugged. “I guess, in the end, I choose life by delivering death.”

  “How poetic.” Taking Denny’s hand, she studied her face. “You’ve changed.”

  Denny could not deny it. “Yeah. Being possessed will do that to a girl.”

  Lauren forced a grin. “No, really. You never have any fun. I can’t remember the last time I saw you laugh. You don’t hang out with your friends anymore. I don’t want you to become what you do.”

  “A demon?”

  “A killer. You need to find some balance in your life, Den, and soon.”

  Denny squeezed her hand and let go. “I will as soon as I find a way to get Quick out of jail. Until I do that, my balance doesn’t matter.”

  “Are you close?”

  Denny nodded. “I am. I’ve…well…I’ve done a few things I am not too proud of, but—”

  “Sweet pea, you crossed that line of guilt months ago when you started slashing demons to death. There’s no future in guilt, girlfriend. You’re doing the best you can under fucking weird-ass circumstances. Don’t start apologizing for it now.”

  ****

  Denny’s Journal

  Not long after I answered all of Lauren’s questions, I went to see Reese and passed her on the way down stairs. She had come to tell me that her witness had done a police sketch and when she showed it to me, I was not the least bit surprised that it resembled Tyler Jones.

  A lot.

  We had him.

  Reese was worth her weight in gold, and she had even more information.

  Apparently, Jones had discovered that the family across the street, the one that had seen him leave, had a son on parole who had mysteriously violated that parole just the day before. Tyler Jones had convinced the parents that it was best for them not to get involved in police matters, and that he was “doing them a favor” by keeping them out of this mess.

  Reese’s witness had managed to tell them just how untrue that was…all of it.

  Now, all I need is to bring this full circle to the Savannah courtroom and let the DA work his dirty magic.

  God how I hate that piece of shit. I wish I could decapitate him and rid the world of his badness.

  Some other time, maybe.

  For her part, Reese had also uncovered evidence that had been tampered with. She said she believed it was enough for a retrial in the event I couldn’t bring Jones to justice. The case is actually going our way, and for the first time in a long time, I can see a light at the end of a very long tunnel. All I need to do is make sure Tyler Jones doesn’t fall through the cracks.

  So today I start for that crack putty to make sure that doesn’t happen.

  ****

  Two and a half hours later, Denny pulled into the lot behind a beaten and battered hotel that smelled like a combination of urine, stale beer, and cum. Dusk had fallen and she was wearing all of her hunting gear, sans the Saugen. Ames wouldn’t let her have it until she had practiced long and hard.

  Which she had every intention of doing.

  Later.

  Once she finally put the mess with Quick behind her, there would be a whole lot she was planning on doing. Lauren was right about balance. She’d been outta whack ever since Rush left her, and she hadn’t yet found her footing. Once her family was safe, Denny vowed she would make the time to re-create her life.

&
nbsp; Her life.

  That was a joke. It was pretty clear she had no life—at least not one of her own design. Still, possessed or not, she did have choices and she could choose to devote a healthy amount of time to her real life.

  But right now, she had some ass-kicking to do. Pulling out Epee, she kept it in its metal sheath and stored Fouet inside her vest as she walked to the front of the dingy motel she was certain had cockroaches the size of cats.

  Denny wasted no time in locating Tyler Jones’s room. He’d parked his car right in front of it.

  Leaning in, she listened for the sound of the television. When she heard it, she slowed her breathing and allowed the Hanta to gain more than a foothold on the situation.

  Once she felt the Hanta awaken, she stood back, inhaled deeply, and kicked the door in.

  Too late, she realized her mistake.

  She’d thought the lawyer stupid for parking in front of his room.

  He wasn’t.

  It was bait, and she swallowed it whole.

  Half a dozen demons were waiting for her, and when they pulled her into the room, she knew it was over.

  “Took you long enough,” one tall, thin, pock-marked twenty-something said. “We’d heard you were good, but come on. You’re nothin’ but an amateur.”

  Denny brought Epee to life. She knew that in such close quarters, Fouet was useless, so she kept it in her vest pocket.

  “Put your weapons away, Ms. Silver.”

  Denny looked over at the bathroom door, where a larger-than-large demon stood.

  He was no man possessed by a demon—he was, for all intents and purposes, a bona fide demon, the kind in children’s nightmares, with legs of a goat, a barrel chest, Popeye arms, and a face that could freeze Medusa’s.

  It wasn’t Asmodeus—she knew by the lack of reaction of her Hanta, which began filling her veins and muscles. But whoever this was, they also were not a low-level demon, but something much, much more.

  “You really ought to learn to control him better,” the demon said, clopping over to her on hooves that stopped making noise once they reached the grubby and stained carpet.