She began flipping through the years when Gwen had been ill or hospitalized—more often than Denny had realized. She’d broken her arm twice, her collarbone once. One time, when she’d been in the hospital, her father had told them she had appendicitis. She’d stayed almost a week. Another time, she was “away visiting a friend” for almost two weeks. Denny had asked every day why she hadn’t at least called.
Now she knew why.
One call to Sterling gave her the month and that narrowed her search a great deal. After ten minutes, she found what she was searching for.
When Denny was twelve, her mother had been hospitalized for a “fall down the front steps.”
Had she fallen or was she pushed? Had the Magyar come after her mother as it had come after her?
“Come on, come on,” she said, quickly perusing the pages looking for the words Magyar, Liderc, or incubus.
That’s when she found it.
June twelfth her mother had been hospitalized. As she flipped to the days before, she discovered Gwen had been hunting a Magyar demon that had gotten the drop on her, beating the crap out of her and pushing her down the stairs. The demon managed to get a single shot off from the lit crossbow, but missed because...
Denny stopped reading.
A woman named Valeria had deflected the shot and run the demon off, saving her mother’s life.
“Who the hell is Valeria?” Denny asked aloud. She looked up. “Come on, Rush, I need some answers here.”
Did her mother have a partner Denny never knew about?
“Valeria, Valeria.” She searched the databases in her computer. Nothing.
She stood in front of the bookshelves. Her name was in here somewhere.
She called Ames. He wasn’t picking up. She called Lauren and put her to the task of locating the history of a Valeria and seeing if she could pull up anyone by that name in Savannah.
Then, at eleven o’clock, she donned her leather hunting gear, grabbed Epée and Fouet, and started out of the lair only to walk smack into the one person she never expected to see.
“Rush? Oh my God. It’s you!”
The ghost of Rushalyn Holbrook smiled widely. “I’d say in the flesh, but that would be a lie and I’ve never lied to you, baby. Ever.”
Denny’s mouth hung open a moment––the inability to hug Rush washing over her. She so wanted to pull her close and hold her for a long, long time. “Where have you been? No. Strike that. I don’t care. Are you okay? No, strike that. Are you––”
Rush put a finger up to her mouth. “Shh. You’re acting like a crazy person. Be still. Come. Let’s sit on your bed like old times and chat.”
“Chat? Do you have any idea how much I’ve been chatting with you?”
Rush floated from the room. She was wearing a Bulldogs’ football jersey that was three sizes too big. “You can pick at the past, baby, like a scab, or you can deal with me right now. It’s your call.”
Denny followed her into the bedroom. “My call?”
“Lie down.”
“Stop bossing me.”
Rush smiled. “Please. Lie down. The conversation we need to have needs to be on a plane where I can touch you.”
Denny sat on the bed. “Touch me? Do you have any idea how pissed off I am?”
Rush sighed. “I do. And since you’ve chosen to pick at the past, we can have his conversation right here.” Rush hovered above the floor, arms across her chest, her hair flowing as if chased by a gentle wind. She was cute by any century’s standards, a button nose above a pert mouth.
Denny quickly lay down. “No, no. I’m ready.” Closing her eyes, she counted down from one hundred and breathed in deep breaths until she was on a plane where she and Rush could actually touch. It was how they had had sex for the last three years.
When Rush appeared, Denny grabbed her and crushed her in a hug. “God, have I missed you.” She melted into that hug, feeling Rush’s heat against her, like coming home. “I have been so angry with you for leaving me.”
“I know you have, baby, and I’m going to explain to you why I had to leave...and why I am back.” Pulling away, Rush lightly brushed Denny’s hair from her face, a mask of worry. “You’ve been reckless. So very reckless with your life. You’re not the only one pissed off, you know?”
“So you have been watching.”
Rush shook her head, her eyes dialed in on Denny’s. “No, love, I haven’t. It...it’s too painful. I just know things about you and how you operate.”
“I’ve missed you so much.”
“And I, you.” Rush moved to their favorite spot and sat on a red plaid picnic blanket underneath an oak tree by a river. “But I learned something about myself when that nasty-ass demon nabbed me and held me hostage. I had been incredibly selfish where you are concerned.” Taking Denny’s hands in hers, Rush continued. “He said things I didn’t want to hear––things that were as sad as they were true.”
“Things? What kinds of things?”
Rush inhaled slightly. “I’ve been a most selfish person––a horribly self-absorbed person. Life is for the living, baby, and that’s not me. I haven’t been alive in a long time. There is so much for you to experience––so many women to love––so many adventures to have. You need to...no, you deserve to have that kind of a life.”
“I don’t want to love anyone else.”
“Right. And see, that’s the problem. The living need you. Iris needed you. She still does. Your life, your real life, belongs out there. Not in here. Not on some spiritual plane with a ghost. No matter how much this ghost loves you.”
“I thought you said you weren’t watching.”
Rush pursed her lips. “What I meant was I wasn’t hanging around all the time. That’s like stalking or something uber creepy. I was here when it mattered.”
“It’s always mattered, Rush. You just left. Just like that. No real goodbye.”
Rush caressed Denny’s cheek. “As long as you live in the Holbrook House, there will never be any good-byes. I belong here––to this house––to the people in it. To you.”
“I don’t understand.”
Rush kissed Denny’s forehead. “I needed to leave so that you’d make the break from me and this world,” she waved her hand in the air, “and return to where you belong in yours. You must live, baby. You must let me go and I must release you from the bond we share. I’ll never leave Holbrook House––I’ll never leave you. We just...we can’t be lovers anymore.”
Denny closed her eyes to focus on Rush’s touch. “Because it’s not healthy.”
“That, and because it’s selfish of me to hold you back from a real relationship. I can’t do it anymore, baby. I just can’t. I love you too much.”
Opening her eyes, Denny was surprised to see Rush crying. “Rush?”
Rush impatiently wiped her eyes. “You are going to need a partner who can help you do what you are going to spend your life doing. A real woman. Someone who can wrap her arms around you at night––someone who can hold your hand when you’re frightened. As God as my witness, as much as I want that woman to be me, it isn’t. Can’t. Will never be. It’s time we understood that.”
“You disappeared so I would enter that world?”
“I left because I am the most selfish person there is and I knew if I hung around, I’d never let you go––never find the strength to do the right thing. Let me do the right thing, baby. If I do right by you, maybe we can salvage a friendship out of this. Maybe we can still hold onto something we once had.”
Denny blinked back her own tears. “I’d like that, Rush. More than you could know. I have been desperately lonely without you.”
Rush kissed Denny’s forehead. “Oh, I do know. I may not have seen all of what you’ve been up to, but I see scars that tell me it’s been hazardous to your health.”
Denny looked away. “After you left, I pretty much put on my ‘fuck it’ boots and flailed about in the darkness for a few weeks.”
Rush l
ay her on her back. “I heard some of it, but it was too painful to see it. I had to let you find you your own way. Got a few minutes to fill me in on what I missed?”
Denny flipped over and lay on her belly next to Rush. “I have more than a few for you, but you’d better hold on to your ghost hat, because this here is one helluva demon hunter story.”
Rush smiled. “I have missed you so, Golden Silver. Not the sex or intimacy as much as this right here. You are, above all else, my best friend.”
Denny nodded. “Yes, I am.”
Rush scooted closer. “Now, tell me everything.”
***
The reconnaissance of the cemeteries in Savannah yielded two possible areas the Magyar and his minions might hang out.
Overly cautious now that she had her head screwed on straight, Denny slid between the shadows and allowed the Hanta to listen for any demonic energy nearby.
She didn’t have to wait long. Another tingling told her a pair of demons were close, but neither was the Magyar, the Liderc. She would sense his power from far away, that much she was sure about.
Crouching down in the shadows, Denny could not wipe the grin off her face.
Rush had returned and Denny couldn’t believe how settling that was. It had been so good to see her––to sit and talk and play with her again. Like a missing puzzle piece had just been found. When they had caught up on everything, Rush had promised to return to chat some more. She wouldn’t always be available, and she would never resume her place as Denny’s lover, but she was home.
That one visit changed everything.
Rush was back.
Denny was going to be okay. She wasn’t alone and wouldn’t have to face the many mysteries of demon hunting by herself. Maybe then––
Suddenly, she could feel another demon––a stronger demon, nearby. The sensation was like that flash of fear when some jackass jumps out of the shadows.
Staying down, Denny stared through the darkness as someone meandered through the cemetery. She couldn’t see the Magyar, but she didn’t have to.
She could sense it.
Then she slipped further into the shadows in the event that it could sense her as well. She didn’t think it could, but she’d never dealt with an incubus before. She put that on her ever-growing list of things to learn more about.
As it walked by, Denny backed away. She had the information she needed. She would know where to come when the time came to hunt. Now was not the time. It could kick her ass without even trying, for surely it knew more about her than she knew about it.
That would be her constant disadvantage until she was more experienced.
Right now, she needed to finish her rounds. That meant she would drive by Lauren’s, Victor’s, Sterling’s, Pat Patterson’s, Ames’s, Brianna’s, and Cassandra’s. It would take about an hour and a half total to keep an eye out on everyone, and the only way she could sleep at night.
She only hoped Ames understood.
As she drove by Cassandra’s, she slowed down. The home was an enormous Victorian that housed the coven. It sat slightly above the street, tucked back on the corner lot. Through the din it appeared almost like an apparition––dark and silent––both good signs.
A part of her wanted to go in and crawl into bed with Cassandra. To have someone hold her through the night would feel so good.
But she couldn’t. Not now. Not yet.
When she finally returned home, she went back up to the lair and cracked open her mother’s journal. “All right, Mom, tell me more about this Magyar.”
***
Gwen’s Journal
June twelfth. How time has flown. My first incubus, and I hope, my last. Ugh. Creepy little bastard. I tracked him for a good three months, but each time he skirted around me, almost as if he were taunting me.
Maybe he was. I don’t really know. It just feels really personal, like he has an agenda that somehow involves me or the Hanta.
He prefers hanging around the periphery of the cemeteries, usually going back and forth between the two, but I know his pattern. I’ve studied his movements. I know what he’s after—what all of the incubi want. Sick son-of-a-bitch. He won’t get anything if I can help it.
The incubus is a nasty creature––preying on young women, impregnating them, then swooping in to steal their infants so they can be raised by demon hags.
Demon hags.
Is there anything worse than those soulless disgusting bags of bones?
Oh, I know what he wants.
It’s not just the girl, either. No, he wants a killer of demons. Rasputin taught me as much. He wants to craft a being capable of taking out both hunters and witches. They are planning some sort of all-out attack on those who either use demons or hunt them. They are planning on starting in NOLA and then here in Savannah where the supernatural reigns supreme.
I’ll be ready when that battle ensues...ready to do my part in removing demons from this planet. This incubus is just the beginning of the cleanse. That much is obvious. We will be ready. When the time is right we will take this incubus out.
This one and any one who is dumb enough to come after it.
***
Denny stared at the two words that jumped off the page at her.
We.
The two words were emblazoned on her corneas.
“We? Who in the hell were you referring to, Mom? And who the hell is Rasputin? Come on, you keep muddying up the water here. Who were you working with?”
Denny pulled out a notebook and scribbled Valeria and Rasputin down on a clean page. Then she jotted down Petra. “When this is over, I’m going to find out who these folks are.”
“Did you have a partner? What on earth happened, and what the hell is the cleanse?” She wrote this term under the two names. “Jesus Christ, the more I know, the less I know.” “Rush? Are you around? I could use some help here.”
Denny waited.
“Okay,” she said to herself after five silent minutes went by. Leaning back over the journal, Denny continued reading about June twelfth.
***
Gwen’s Journal
I failed.
I failed and almost lost my life in the process. My hand still shakes even as I write this––I came that close.
I had tracked the Magyar to a bar he frequently trolled for women. The bar was at the end of a dead-end street. Perfect for the confrontation. Perfect for ending his wretched life. Perfect.
Or so I thought.
When he came out, he was not alone. The woman, I realized, was not an unsuspecting female he planned on bedding.
Oh no. That would have made this too easy. She was not even human.
She was a succubus.
I wasn’t at all prepared for a succubus, and before I knew it, the hunter became the hunted. I’ve never seen creatures move so fast.
Suddenly, I was the one pinned in the dead end. They were neither concerned nor intimidated by the crackling of Epée and Fouet. It was the first time in all my years of hunting that my quarry appeared unafraid.
And that scared the crap out of me.
They were on me so quickly, I barely managed to whip Fouet around. That was when the Magyar pulled out a crossbow made of light. I had never seen one, but I had read about them when I was researching my own weapon and I knew I was in trouble. Big, painful trouble.
I had one shot at preventing the bolt from discharging and when I snapped Fouet about, it lifted the crossbow from the demon’s grasp and tossed it fifty yards away. That singular act probably saved my life but cost me my safety, as the succubus was upon me so quickly that both of my weapons were useless.
Alone, I might have defeated the succubus in hand-to-hand, but her partner joined her in pummeling me. It was all I could do to remain holding Epée and Fouet, but in such tight quarters, I was nearly helpless and they were beating me up pretty badly, hitting and kicking me with a ferocity born out of abject hatred. I knew if I went down to the ground, they would surely stomp me to
death so I struggled to maintain my feet.
“Get the Balestra, you dolt!” The succubus snapped, just before my fist connected with her face. As she stumbled backwards, I brought Epée down and severed her left arm from her body.
She howled like a wild animal, her gaze at her lifeless limb registering what had just happened.
“You fucking bitch. You motherfucking bitch. I don’t care what Asmodeus said. Kill her!”
As I swung around toward the Magyar, I realized he was too far from me for Fouet to reach. That was when I felt the blow to the back of my head that sent me to my knees.
From that position I waited to die as I watched the Magyar raise the crossbow and aim it at me.
“Do it!” the succubus yelled, also falling to her knees as she bled out. “Just fucking do it!”
He raised the crossbow, aimed, and...nothing. I heard him swear and as my gaze followed his, the last thing I saw before I blacked out was Valeria.
Valeria...my guardian angel. She saved my life.
Again.
But the real question is...who in the hell is Asmodeus?
***
Denny started to read on when the Black Book fluttered open. Gently placing the red ribbon in the journal to bookmark her place, she pulled the huge leather tome to her.
The blood ink slowly appeared as the writer inked the latest kill.
Peyton. Again.
“Damn, dude, don’t you ever sleep?” Denny asked aloud as she waited for the whole story to materialize.
It appeared Peyton had just extinguished a Magyar demon in New Orleans.
Sitting up now, Denny read the whole tale.
He knew I was hunting him and actually egged me on. I wasn’t surprised. Incubi and succubi both are incredibly arrogant. They often overestimate their position while underestimating their opponent’s. Their arrogance is one of the best weapons to use against them, and I had every intention of using it.
I managed to do an end run on the Magyar and decapitate him using Garret. A clean cut, I burned the head anyway, for safe measure. One never knows with the incubi.
I could not find the succubus. They tend to travel in pairs when on the offensive. I am certain they are probably also attacking Savannah, Galveston, Gettysburg, Charleston, Key West, Salem, and Chicago. I’ve been in contact with the best hunter in Nashville, and she’s dealt with an incubus and succubus as well. There appears to be some sort of offensive push that started some years ago, but was stymied. Not sure why, but it looks like they are back at it.
Demon Within (The Silver Legacy Book 2) Page 14