Darkness Descends (The Silver Legacy Book 1)

by Alex Westmore

  “I don’t know that either.”

  “Oooh, tough nut to crack.” He didn’t take his eyes from Denny’s. “I’ve met parents easier than you.”

  Denny pushed herself off the Prius and planted her feet in mirror image to his. “There’s no cracking this nut, Mr. Cockerton. Pure means the world to me, and it’s my job to make sure she’s safe from assholes and dickweeds and anyone else who might shove her off her path.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Whoa. I’m no asshole or––”

  “Good. Make sure you’re very clear about the proper way to comport yourself around my sister and you and I won’t have a problem.”

  “Comport?”

  “Act. It means act. As long as you’re not an ass around, to, or with Pure, then we won’t have any issues. Capisce?”

  He stepped back. His face changed as he finally connected the dots. “Oh. I get it. You’re one of them man-hating dykes, is that it?”

  Denny was rolling onto the balls of her feet just as Pure bounded up.

  “Hey. M.C., this is my sister, Denny.”

  Denny nodded once. “We’ve met. Come on, Pure. I’ve got shit to do.” Denny waited for Pure to say goodbye before opening the passenger door for her.

  Once Pure was in the car, Denny walked right up to Mike and said in a voice not at all like her own, “You ever use that word around me again and that stupid jacket you’re wearing is all they’ll find of you, asshole.”

  Before he replied, Denny pulled open her car door. “You need to teach your friend some manners,” she said, again in a voice she barely recognized. “Or I will.”

  ***

  She watched him flirt, buy drinks, and act like he owned the world. Human men lusting after flesh were such huge targets for demons. They could not see beyond their drive to sate their physical desires. They could not hear the darkness creeping ever closer.

  They were careless simpletons who were too arrogant to recognize that it was the flesh of woman that controlled them and not the other way around. They were victims of a predatory instinct and yearning that overcame all other senses, often placing them in grave danger.

  They were lucky so few women ever fought back.

  Men were weak––perhaps the weakest of the species, though they strutted around like the proverbial peacocks retelling this sexual conquest and deviation. Those men should have been the pariah of their people, but instead, were held up as faux warriors in a battle of gender relations.

  Men admired these peacocks, and wanted to be them.

  Women pretended to disdain them, all the while wishing to be their next conquest.

  Heroes out of villains.

  The humans didn’t really need demons to ruin their lives and destroy their worlds––they were doing just fine on their own. Humans could seldom get out of their own way, and usually all it took was a little push to get them started on their downward spiral.

  Still, the mission was always about making as big a splash as possible so the ripples would reach as far as they could reach.

  And this rock of a man would make a huge splash wherever he went because he was the type who never thought he needed protection. The type who didn’t even bother showering between bedmates.

  He was, without a doubt in the demon’s mind, the kind of man who would spread the disease she was incubating between her legs. Like blowing on a dandelion, he would send the virus out into the world where weak-minded and sexually retarded women would infect the next macho man who didn’t use protection.

  And so on.

  And so on.

  The ripple effect was never more prevalent than in the weaknesses of the flesh and soft in the mind, and all she had to do was smile over at him to get the party started.

  It was that simple.

  ***

  Once Pure left the house to go to a see a friend, Denny went back into the lair.

  Lair.

  She found the word oddly fitting for a place of dark knowledge and secrecy. She wondered briefly if her mother had named it.

  The bookshelves were crammed with books, magnifying glasses, and pocket watches. Some of the books were about demons, some were religious tomes, others about history. But the one that caught her eye the most was the big leather book perched in the middle of the desk.

  While her mother’s journal beckoned her, that thick beast of a book drew her like a tractor beam. Denny cautiously approached the desk, before tentatively touching the open page. The paper was thick vellum with fountain pen or quill ink inscribed on it.

  She looked at the text on the page. Beautifully scripted writing flowed across the left hand side, while on the right side was a drawing of a creature out of a horror movie.

  He was broad-shouldered and had three massive claw-like fingers on each hand. Red eyes, angry mouth, his bald head sported ram-like horns.

  “Ugh. That’s just nasty.”

  Denny read the inscription:

  ~~~

  “Belphegor rules misogyny and licentious men who live as a man (or woman) to experience sexual pleasures. When a human allows Belphegor into their life, the demon will bestow great treasures and wealth as well as enable the human to become overly creative and innovative. Eventually, the demon will consume the lover as balance for whatever was created–– creator and destroyer being the polar opposites like life and death, or good and evil.”

  ~~~

  Denny inhaled and turned the page, where the information about Belphegor continued. There was a recipe of some sort and what looked like a knife, with instructions on how to vanquish this demon.

  ~~~

  “Belphegor is a demon who must be cast out, not destroyed, for complete destruction is nearly impossible. The casting out usually kills the host, and Belphegor escapes to a neutral zone where he will attempt to recover his energy to move on to a new host.”

  ~~~

  Denny pinched the bridge of her nose. “This cannot become my life.”

  Turning page after page, Denny could not believe how many demons there were and how many bizarre entries detailed ways of banishing, destroying, and even capturing them. It was a compendium of demon information that would take her weeks to get through.

  If she read it.

  Denny left it open to the same page she’d found it. She wasn’t sure why.

  This room...this lair...with her mother’s things, her books, her writing, felt somehow both sacred and profane. Denny carefully opened the desk drawers, gingerly moving the contents around. She had no idea what she was looking for but she found some strange things.

  There were vials for blood, dozens of gold-tipped nibs, and several different kinds of letter openers.

  The center drawer was locked. She contemplated trying to pick the lock, until her eye caught the title of a book perched on top of the roll-top hutch.

  Demon Hunting.

  She pulled the book off the desk and started to flip through it when she realized what it actually was. On a bookmark she pulled from the book, she saw her mother’s handwriting.

  ~~~

  My beautiful Golden Girl. If you are reading this, it means it is time for you to decide whether you can wear the mantel of demon hunter. Before you decide, read this book and determine whether you are capable of doing what must be done. It is not something to trifle with, Golden. If you choose to follow the precepts, it will change your life. If you do not want your life changed, close this book, walk away, and never return to Savannah. Ever. Leave tonight, take your sister, and never look back. And may the Goddess forever have your back.

  Love, Mom

  ~~~

  Goddess?

  The room swam before her and Denny suddenly realized that nothing in her life was what it had seemed.

  Nothing.

  Pieces of a once obscured puzzle began to fall into place. That explained those “business trips” she took all the time, leaving her father home to...to what? Guard them? Care for them? What was his role in all of this? She would be gone for days and
then come home and sleep for eighteen, nineteen hours at a stretch. She would wake up ravenous as their father practically tossed food at her.

  When Gwen was home, her mother always had her special quiet time, when no one was allowed to bother her. Ever. Often, their father would take them to the park so their mother could...do what? Come to the lair? Destroy demons? What was it her mother actually did? Again, there were more questions than answers, and Denny felt a headache coming on like a freight train.

  Shaking it off, she inhaled and continued her investigation of the lair.

  The letter. It had been addressed to her. Why were these notes and letters addressed to her and not Sterling? Since she was the oldest, shouldn’t Sterling merit greater consideration for the job than Denny? Why not Quick? Was he really the victim of a demon frame up? Was he too big of a screw up? And if so, where did one go to balance the wobbly scales of justice?

  And what about Pure? How on earth was Denny supposed to protect her little sister from demons sniffing about when she didn’t have a clue what to do or where to go or even how to begin?

  And finally, what did it mean that this was the family legacy? How did one fulfill a family legacy they knew nothing of and were reluctant to begin? How could she––

  Suddenly, a little red light flashed above the desk and a bell chimed.

  Denny heard the front door open and close. The bell and chime warned her someone had entered the front door.

  Her mother had thought of everything.

  She started out of the room with the book on demon hunting. But the book suddenly vanished when she was less than a foot outside the hidden room. Denny looked at her empty hands.

  “What. The. Fuck?”

  She stood there a moment before stepping back into the room.

  The book appeared in her hands once more.

  “Wow. Weird.”

  She stepped back out. The book disappeared. She wondered if all the books in the room were somehow anchored there. She walked back in, grabbed the Big Black Book, and stepped outside the lair.

  The book was still in her hands. “Crap. There goes that theory.” She went back into the small room and set the book on the desk before gazing once more at the sheer volume of information contained on the shelves.

  “I don’t know what you did or why you did it, Mom, but if I need to wear your shoes in order to protect Pure, then I’m all in. And by all in, I mean...I’m not looking back.

  ***

  “You should have told me,” Denny said as soon as Sister Sterling entered the conference room of the convent. The lights were dim and the ratty looking conference table had seen better days.

  Sterling folded her hands in front of her as she sat at the head of the table. “Please. Sit.”

  Denny sat, her posture mimicking that of her sister. “You knew. All this time, you knew and yet you said nothing. How that darkness must have eaten you up.”

  “I was afraid this might happen,” Sterling said softly.

  “This. What’s this, Sterling? You’re not going to tap dance around the demonic elephant in the room. What exactly are we talking about and why didn’t you tell me this long before now?”

  Sterling’s gaze remained on her hands. “Quick got you asking questions with answers you don’t want to hear and questions with answers that don’t yet exist. It was selfish of him. Typical of our brother.”

  “I heard them, Sterling. That’s the problem. I can’t un-hear or un-know what I’ve learned during the last forty-eight hours. Believe me. I wish I could, but I can’t.”

  Sterling finally looked up at her. “I’m sorry, Golden. I had so hoped this sad and dark part of our family’s history had passed us by. I hoped that Quick would take it with him to the grave if need be.”

  “Well, it didn’t. That darkness may very well have set up our brother for a crime he didn’t commit. It’s plagued me with some seriously weird supernatural shit, and it caused our mother to create a lair filled with books on demons and demonology before running her and Dad off the god-damned road.”

  “Wait. Back up. Plaguing you? What do you mean? What is plaguing you, Golden? You said there’s some weird supernatural...ummm...stuff. Like what? What’s happened?”

  “Uh-uh. I get to ask the questions.” Denny’s voice dropped an octave. “I’ve been running all over the place looking for answers like the headless chicken. Now I’m here for yours.”

  Cocking her head to one side, Sterling’s face was a mask of regret and wariness. “Your voice became...strange there for a minute. Deeper.”

  “Yeah. Welcome to my world. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I have a good idea you can shed some light on some of it.” Denny cleared her throat and leaned back. “So start shedding.”

  Sterling unfolded her hands and moved closer. “There is so much history, Golden, I am unsure of where to begin. What do you want to know?”

  “How long have you known about this family legacy of ours?”

  “Eight years. Mom told me on my eighteenth birthday. It was the custom in the family that began in the fifteenth century, though we’d already been...doing the work for a hundred years. As the oldest, I was supposed to know...to be prepared.”

  Denny shot forward. “Eight years? You’ve known this shit for eight years? My god.”

  Her sister nodded. “I was never going to become the hunter. Ever. It’s not in my nature. Mom understood this, so I went to college and studied theology. Then, when Mom and Dad had the accident, I knew there was only one place for me to go to be safe from the legacy, and that was––” she opened her arms, “here.”

  “I don’t understand. What does one have to do with the other?”

  To Denny’s surprise, Sterling shrugged. “I am not really sure. Once I started talking about it with Mom shortly before she died, she told me this was always an option for me. She knew I wasn’t the one...that I’d never be the one.”

  “Because?”

  Sterling waved through the window to another nun. “Because I’ve been a Christian for so long and this is where I belong. It is where I can best help whichever of you has...received the calling.”

  “The calling? You chose the angelic calling and waited for one of us to pick the demonic one? That’s rich. And it never occurred to you to tell me about this?”

  “Of course it did. But how crazy would I have sounded coming to you out of the clear blue and talking about demons and legacies? Hearing something from one’s parent is one thing. To hear it from your sister the nun is another thing altogether. I guess I hoped they would leave us alone since Mom is technically still alive. I thought that maybe they would be trapped inside her. I didn’t expect...”

  Denny leaned closer. “Wait. Trapped inside her? Are you suggesting that Mom has some sort of demonic spirit inside her?”

  Sterling sighed. “When so many years have gone by without incident, I thought my prayers had been answered and we were in the clear. I thought maybe Mom still carried the legacy within.”

  Denny rubbed her face. “So Mom is possessed?”

  Sterling shook her head. “It’s much more complicated than that. Suffice it to say, my intention was to wait and see if it had transferred to Quick before making any crazy pronouncements.”

  “Then Quick was arrested.”

  “Yes. That was when I had my suspicions, Golden, but how does one prove the innocence of a man and the guilt of a demon? Once the legacy locks onto you, you begin to...see glimpses of them. Maybe Quick did, maybe he didn’t, but I knew the world of darkness folded itself around him. He couldn’t see the danger because...well...because...”

  Denny pounded the table. “I knew it!”

  As Sterling ran her hand through Denny’s hair, her eyes softened. “You’ve seen something, haven’t you?”

  Denny blinked several times before answering, her thoughts going back to the night Pat Patterson had been shot. “I––I’m not sure what I saw. So much is happening, I don’t know my ass from a hole
in the ground right now.”

  “Language,” Sterling admonished as she always did when Denny swore.

  “Well, it’s true. A moment ago, you heard my voice change. Where in the hell is that voice from? It’s not mine.”

  Sterling shrugged. “Stress, maybe? The truth is, I don’t know very much about all that demon hunting stuff. I just knew that I could escape it by coming here, so I did. I’ve not had to deal with anything like that here. I’ve never seen a demon, never heard the voice, never felt them nearby.”

  “So did it move on to Quick?”

  Sterling shook her head. “In all honesty, I don’t really know how it all works.” She reached out and took Denny’s hands. “I wish I could help you out more, Golden, but that’s about it. I am so sorry the family’s darkness has found its way onto your lap. If I could have prevented it, I would have.”

  “I don’t understand why you call it darkness when our job, as I understand it, is to stamp out this darkness.”

  “Because to stamp it out, you must enter it. You must shake hands with it. You must do business with it. To eradicate darkness, you must get close with your own light. Trust me on this, Golden, you don’t want any part of this, and I don’t want to see you subject Pure to it, either.”

  Denny pushed away from the table and paced the room. “Like I have a choice? You’re safely ensconced here. Quick is in prison for a crime he probably didn’t do and Pure could be in danger. Out of all of us, Sterling, I have the least number of choices.”

  “Oh, Golden, don’t look at it like that. You can always––”

  “What? Bail on us like you did? Oh hell no, Sister. I am not leaving Pure in the hands of some demonic spirit or fucked up evil creature.” Denny held her hand up. “Don’t tell me language. I’m a grown woman and I swear. You can do a dozen Hail Marys or Our Fathers if you need to, but please stop busting my balls about––” Denny stopped talking and put her hand to her throat. Her last sentence sounded like it came from a six pack smoker.

  Sterling’s eyes were wide. “What...what was that?”

  Denny shook her head and cleared her throat. “That’s what I’m talking about. It comes and goes.”