Demon Within (The Silver Legacy Book 2)

by Alex Westmore

  Rush came off the desk and looked at the computer screen where she read silently for a few minutes. “Wait. Den, look. Says here Hildie had visions. Wrote books about them, even. You don’t suppose one of those visions has anything to do with all this, do you?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t have time to read thick medieval literature right now, but I know who does.” Denny quickly replied to Lauren’s email and asked her to read the vision books by Hildegarde to see if there was anything in them about battling demons.

  “That Lauren is a fount of wisdom,” Rush said softly. “One of the smartest women you know and yet, you never listen to her.”

  “I listen to her.”

  “No, baby, you don’t. If you did, you’d be getting some sleep right now. You’d get your ass back in school. You’d take better care of yourself. She’s seldom wrong, you know?”

  “I know. I know. I’ll get some sleep in a few. Anyway, the Hanta jumped ship––changed teams. He betrayed Asmodeus and began this legacy without the Demon Prince. Clearly, Asmodeus hasn’t been successful in killing him, but I wonder how long he’s been trying.”

  Rush floated over to the bookshelf. “You’ve got hours and hours of reading time ahead of you to find that out.”

  “Or...maybe not.” Denny plucked one of her mother’s journals from the shelf. “Maybe he’s only come after my family because of something my mother knew. Ames said that Asmodeus could wait centuries, even a millennium before exacting revenge. So, why now?”

  Rush stood closer to Denny. “Yeah.”

  Denny sat down with the journal and caressed the stained leather cover. “Why now?”

  ***

  Gwen’s Journal

  I have discovered yet another drawback to being possessed (Is it never ending?). The more demons the Hanta consumes, the darker my own soul becomes. Robert has noticed a slight edge to me that never existed before. I have more violent daydreams––like thoughts of cutting the head off the woman who stepped in front of me in line at the post office. I understand this is normal for someone with a Hanta as old as mine.

  And it is old.

  Dating back to the twelfth century, it appears that it has actually managed to keep the legacy intact after all these centuries...growing stronger, I suppose, for that inevitable day when his Master seeks retribution. There are times when I feel its fear. As odd as it sounds, it truly wants to live, even if that life is within me. There are moments when that fear is palpable.

  I fear that day––for my family, for myself. To be caught up in a war between demons isn’t exactly what every little girl dreams of for her life. There are times when I feel responsible for bringing children into this world knowing what I am. I wonder if it was right.

  I’ll never know.

  What I do know is that Robert is beginning to fear me. He is pulling away. Perhaps, in the end, that might be best for him. There are times when I can see that fear in his eyes.

  What I dread is that the number of demons required to sate the Hanta’s appetite will bring on Asmodeus’s unwanted attention.

  Perhaps we will be as lucky as the last fifteen or so hunters and their inevitable battle won’t be in our lifetime.

  One can only hope.

  ***

  “Check out her math,” Rush said, pulling away from looking over Denny’s shoulder. “Asmodeus has come after your guy at least once before, and your demon lived to tell about it. That’s heartening.”

  Denny let her fingers trail over her mother’s words. “She was really into this, wasn’t she?”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. She made the best of a bad situation, baby. Don’t think for one second that she enjoyed it. She didn’t.”

  “But she got dark. How did she manage to stave off the darkness overwhelming her?”

  “The better question is how are you going to? Already, you slaughter them on a nightly basis. How are you planning on holding on to your humanity?”

  Denny turned the pages of a life lived in complete secrecy, in total darkness.

  Well, not total.

  Her mother had somehow managed to beat back the evil corrupting her soul.

  Turning blank page after blank page, Denny shrugged. “She either wrote in invisible ink, or she just stopped writing.”

  “Your mother never stopped writing, and she would have definitely left you some sort of clue in the event you took on the Hanta.”

  Both of them looked over at the locked chest.

  “We need to get in there.”

  “You don’t think––”

  “I sure as hell do, and I think we know the perfect person to get that trunk open.” Denny rose.

  “That witch?”

  “That witch.”

  ***

  Denny took off Cassandra’s blindfold and left her standing in front of the trunks.

  “Umm...wow.” Cassandra’s eyes drank in the sanctuary’s mysterious vibe. “Oh my, Hunter, you certainly are full of surprises, aren’t you?” Cassandra did not move a step, but knelt down and extended her hands, palms out, toward the first locked chest. “Oh yes, yes. This one has been sealed with magic. Strong magic.”

  Cassandra rose. “The kind well out of my reach, I’m afraid. Whoever sealed this did so to protect the objects within as well as the people without. It was sealed with dark magic by someone who wanted it kept shut.”

  Denny knelt down and ran her hand over the intricate carvings on the lid. It looked like someone had etched a story out of the wood. There were carvings of animals, of the sun and the moon. “What can you make of these?”

  Cassandra stayed where she was and leaned over. “It looks like some sort of story or message. And no, I can’t even imagine what it says. It appears out of order.” Looking over at Denny, Cassandra shook her head slightly. “You must be very careful, Hunter.”

  “Damn it. I need to know what’s in here.”

  “Don’t give up hope, lover. Just because I can’t open it doesn’t mean someone else can’t. There’s a reason those carvings on the exterior. We just need someone who can read them.” Cassandra lightly touched Denny’s cheek. “I’ll check around––do a little leg work.” Cassandra ran her hand between Denny’s thighs. “Got time for a little between-the-legs work?”

  Denny looked over Cassandra’s shoulder and saw Rush glaring at her. “Don’t. I mean...not now. I––”

  Cassandra pulled back. “I’m sorry. Bad timing is my specialty. Maybe later...after we quell your Magyar?”

  Denny nodded and slid the blindfold back in place.

  “Keep that for later,” Cassandra purred. “It goes well with the pair of fur-lined handcuffs I brought with me.”

  Denny barely got her out of the room before she heard Rush growling behind her.

  Half an hour later, after dropping Cassandra off at a nail salon, Denny drove to Ames’s house and showed him the three-foot cylinder she’d found in the chest.

  Ames’s face fell when he saw it. “That was your mother’s,” he said, taking it and looking it over. “Still in great condition. Wow.”

  “Yes, it is, but what is it?”

  Ames smiled, beaming at her. “Her most powerful weapon of all. Its name is Saugen.”

  Denny looked quizzically. “Another German name?”

  Ames turned it over in his hand. “It means to suck. The Saugen has the potential to suck a demon from one who is possessed, but your mom never could quite master it. She preferred Fouet.”

  “Seriously? Why?”

  “It’s not easy to use.”

  “And Fouet is?” Denny touched the scar on her eyebrow she received the first time she’d tried using the chain whip. “What’s there to master? You suck it out and––”

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

  The realization washed over Denny that
this was probably what had happened to Magdelena. “Show me.”

  Ames extracted his own cylinder out and threaded it through the loop in his pants before holding either end of 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 that you can use her weapon without wearing my necklace?” Denny held out the triquestra charm on a chain that allowed her to use Epée and Fouet.

  “I am a trainer. 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 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 really was her fear 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 clashed together 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 Saugen back to her. “She could never get it down. It was too much juggling of weapons for her, I think.”

  “That was...” Denny took Saugen from him, surprised by its warmth.

  “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.”

  Ames pulled up a stool and motioned for Denny to sit. “You found her Geheime Zimmer. ”

  Denny nodded. “Jesus. More German? So was this crafted in Germany?

  “Yes. And the Geheime is something the Germans have always been very good at concealing.”

  “No shit. Is it the older of the weapons I have?”

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

  “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 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. “Must feel it’s time.”

  “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. What are your thoughts on old Hildegarde?”

  “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 no way was she 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. 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. 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.”

  “And now, 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. “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?”

  “Well, for your legacy, yes.”

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

  “No, Goldy. Not just demons. Hantas. Hildegarde had a string of visions about killing legacy demons and the rumor has it she penned an entire book about those visions and what they revealed to her. You should read up on her. The visions she had were nothing short of prophetic.”

  “But it’s lost.”

  Ames shrugged. “It’s entirely possible Asmodeus got to it. No one really knows.. We’re not even certain anyone has ever seen it. It’s just been rumored to exist
.”

  “But the Vatica––“

  “Lies all the time. Who knows what to believe from them?”

  “But you think it exists.”

  “I think anything is possible. Hildegard was a prolific writer. If she had visions about killing demons, she wrote about them.

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

  “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. 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 in the late afternoon, 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––”