Opening a book on demonology, Denny waved Rush away. “I’m not into the damsel in distress type, you know? Now scoot. I’ve got work to do.”
“You did not just dismiss me, Golden Silver.”
Denny paused, book in hand. “Sorry. Fine. Well, since you’ve been to gossip central, any word about my sister?”
“Sister Self Righteous Sterling is as boring as ever. She’s so boring, nobody ever talks about her. How pitiful is that?”
“Not pitiful. Good. I’ll take boredom over danger any day.”
“Well, that she’s got in spades. I’ll let you get back to work.” Rush started to fade, then came back stronger than ever. “And if you ever dismiss me like that again, not even your stupid Hanta will keep me from kicking your ass.”
Then she was gone.
***
Denny’s Journal
I might be working less, but I’m studying more. There’s a never-ending amount of knowledge, and the more I know, the less I know. I’ve learned so much from mom’s journals, but I’ll be damned if I can find anything about Valeria anywhere.
I met her three months ago during a battle with some nasty demons, but Mom’s vague in her journals about the powerful witch. A short sketch here, a line there. It’s as if Gwen was being purposely elusive any time she brought her up.
Rush told me that she and my mom would sit on the porch for hours when my dad was gone, just drinking lemonade and chatting.
Ames says they were more like allies than hunter and witch.
Now, Cassandra is saying they were what? Lovers?
Curiouser and curiouser.
This evening Rush told me Brianna’s girlfriend was abusive. The Hanta wanted to take care of it then and there, to do some damage. I almost couldn’t get it under control.
Almost.
It’s not like we struggle for control. We don’t. It’s just...there are times when it suits me to let the Hanta take over. I get stronger, faster, more mobile, and wield Epée and Fouet with more force. The Hanta Raya, when at its peak, is nigh invincible. It protects us at all costs.
Us.
Me and my Malaysian spirit.
It is also much stronger.
It’s taken me a long time to accept that my mother agreed that I was the next in line, even though I am the third born. Quick was not stable enough, Pure was too young, and Sterling belongs to God.
Clearly, I was the only viable choice.
It’s also taken me half a year to get used to being possessed by a demon that’s been passed down through my family for over eight hundred years. For six months, I’ve been adjusting to a life lived as a possessed person. It’s hard to write that word, possessed down. Even harder to live it. It’s not been easy carrying a thing that is also the very creature you hunt and kill, and I’ve made many changes as I transformed from college student to demon hunter.
Did I say demon hunter?
I mean bad ass-don’t-fuck-with-me-or-I’ll-pop-your-head-like-zit-demon hunter.
The transformation complete, I’ve come to accept this lifelong role. I don’t really know where it’s going to take me, but one thing’s for certain: I can kick anyone’s ass once I get there.
***
Denny pulled into the parking lot of the old Miller Place, the home base for the coven, and sat there staring at it. The Wiccans inside had spent a pretty penny making the old Victorian the gem of the street. Light lavender paint with white trim adorned a three-story mansion surrounded by purple roses Denny was certain had been created with Wiccan magic.
Exiting the muscle car she’d traded in for her Prius, Denny made her way to the house, knowing full well the occupants had already seen her coming.
“Look what the black cat dragged in,” came a sultry voice in the rose garden.
Standing with clippers in her hand was Cassandra, the High Priestess, a tall handsome woman with piercing blue eyes that bordered on sapphire and long black hair too dark to be real. Denny knew it smelled of vanilla and mint.
Hugging Cassandra, Denny stepped back and kissed her warmly on the mouth, letting her lips linger there a moment. “No dragging required. I came of my own free will.”
Cassandra set the clippers down, took Denny’s face in her hands and kissed her long and hard, giving Denny her tongue as her hands sought purchase on Denny’s ass cheeks. “Where witches are concerned, can you be so certain of that?”
Denny laughed. “Why, did you hex me?”
Cassandra slapped Denny’s ass as they headed for the stairs. “Oh honey, if I’d cast a spell on you, you’d have shown up here naked with a bottle of champagne, a pizza, and sex toys.”
Entering the Victorian, Denny inhaled the scent of freshly baked bread. “My God, that smells delicious.”
Before Cassandra could reply, a young blonde woman came bouncing out of the kitchen with a loaf of bread on a plate. “Yay! My first guinea pig.”
Denny inhaled the warm aroma. “Iris, you have a whole house full of guinea pigs.”
Iris set the plate on the coffee table and motioned for Denny to sit. “Are you kidding me? I’m in a house full of women watching their weight. No one wants to try it for fear of liking it. You’re not like that.”
Denny eyed the bread as Iris sliced it. “What are you saying? That I’m fat?”
The young girl giggled. “No, silly. Just that you’re a hunter in need of real nourishment and not just soul food. The rest of these women live on celery and water.”
Denny barked out a laugh. “Just for that I’ll give your bread a try.” She picked up a warm slice and brought it to her nose. “Is there any better smell?”
Cassandra, who had remained stoically quiet, leaned over and whispered, “I can name a thing or two.”
“Geez Cass, you could have waited for me to leave the room before you went all sex torpedo on her.” Iris watched Denny take a bite.
With closed eyes, Denny murmured how delicious it was. “You nailed it Iris. That’s the best bread I’ve ever eaten.”
Iris blushed. “Thank you. It was part of my lesson this morning.”
Denny paused in mid chew, lowering her slice. “Lesson?”
Cassandra chuckled as she trailed a nail across the back of Denny’s neck. “Let’s see, Hunter. We have a coven and freshly baked bread not one witch here would eat. You think you came here of your own volition, but you’re not really certain of that. Do the math, lover.”
Denny lowered the half-eaten piece of bread. “Oh shit. You didn’t.”
Cassandra took Denny’s hand and helped her stand. “Don’t worry. It’s just a short-term potion that renders you temporarily immobile. I’ll see to it that no harm comes to you.”
“You...paralyzed me?” Denny took a step, but teetered slightly. “A little warning would have been nice.” Her lips felt like they barely moved.
Cassandra threaded her arm around Denny’s waist and escorted her to her bedroom. “Well met, Iris,” she said over her shoulder. “Tell Marta you passed with flying colors.”
Once in the bedroom, Cassandra laid Denny on the bed. “I would love to take advantage of you in this condition but it seems so unfair. I prefer to give my lovers a fighting chance with both hands. After all, you know how I enjoy a good rough-and-tumble between the sheets.”
Denny glared at her. “How long, and how come I can still talk?” Denny felt her muscles go slack.
“That’s the beauty of this particular potion. It enables a person to interrogate someone without fear of physical harm. It renders you motionless from the neck down. It’s a hard, hard potion to concoct. Your little Iris is a great find for our coven. She will be a powerful witch one day.”
Denny tried without success to lift her arms. “You know how jacked up this is, right?”
Cassandra sat on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers down Denny’s chest and stomach. “Oh, the things I could do to you.”
Denny felt the Hanta stir. It did not appreciate this little trick in the slight
est, and Denny wondered if, when alive, the Hanta had been claustrophobic. “Cass...I’m not so sure this is such a good idea.”
“Why? Because your demon is becoming angry?” She lightly traced Denny’s eyebrow with her fingertips. “We wouldn’t want that, now would we? I’ve seen just how much fun your angry demon can be.” Leaning down, Cassandra took Denny’s earlobe in her mouth and sucked it. “Mmm. You are so yummy.”
The Hanta was fully aware now, unhappy to be held prisoner by the likes of these witches, and angry at being tricked. “Cass— ” Denny’s voice dropped an octave––a sure sign that the Hanta Raya was awake and pissed off.
“Go ahead, Hunter. Let the demon free. Let us see if he is powerful enough to break the spell cast by a more powerful witch.”
Denny fought the Hanta for a brief moment before she understood, at least, what was going on. “Damn you, Cassandra, I really am a guinea pig. Iris wasn’t kidding.”
A grin toyed at the corners of Cassandra’s mouth. “We needed to see if the spell was strong enough to contain a Hanta. Given your altered state and inability to fight it off, I would say it’s successful.” She leaned down once more, her moist red lips inches from Denny’s ear. “Or is your demon just too weak?”
The Hanta raged and roared, fighting to come to the surface, to take over the rest of Denny’s being. “Cass...don’t...” Denny felt the Hanta’s rage. “God damn it, witch.” There was the Hanta’s voice, its words, its anger. “I’ll not be played with by the likes of you.”
Slowly backing away, Cassandra kept her eyes on Denny’s. “Red becomes you, demon. Can you still not free this body of our spell? Are you so weak you cannot break a simple binding potion?”
Denny released the demon completely, and the Hanta struggled to make Denny’s arms move. “Cursed witch! You ought to pray to your feeble Goddesses I don’t get free or I would render you—”
“Limb from limb? Helpless? Render me what, demon?” Cassandra leaned back in. “Be lucky I do not find another hunter to excise you from my lover, Hanta Raya. You are not in charge here. I am the one holding all the cards, and you would do well to remember that.”
Denny laughed a sound of gravel and whiskey. She had lost the last bits of control over the demon. “The only cards you hold, Witch, are the ones you use in the bedroom. Who do you think was fucking you all those times? Golden Silver.” He chuffed. “Hardly.”
Cassandra slowly pulled away and looked into Denny’s eyes. “Oh, demon, do not take credit where there is none. A woman knows when she is being fucked by another woman. Be gone. You tried and failed to break the binding potion. Run along and let me have my lover back.”
Denny closed her eyes and sighed. “Well that sucked.”
“All better now?” Cassandra murmured, once again touching Denny’s face.
“I think I pulled a spiritual muscle. Boy, did you piss him off.”
Turning from Denny, Cassandra called for Iris, who appeared ten seconds later. “That’s a job well done novice. I am impressed, and that is a rare feat. Stay with Denny while I make sure the recipe is correct and placed in the Book.”
When she was gone, Iris sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, of course not. I always get blindsided by witches who trick me into eating their poison apples that paralyze me and piss off my demon.”
Iris frowned. “Then you are mad?”
Denny’s toes tingled. Some of the feeling was coming back. “Mad isn’t the right word. Iris, have you any idea about the unpredictability of the Hanta Raya demon? Any idea just how badly this could have gone?”
“Well, I have been studying up on them, and I know yours is eight hundred years old, very powerful, and somewhat...um...human-ish.”
More feeling returned to her toes. “Right. Its age means my demon is very, very powerful, and if he could have gotten our hands around Cassandra’s neck, this could have slid sideways before anyone could stop it. Next time, give me a heads-up, okay?”
Iris nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s just...Cassandra said—”
“Cassandra says that will be all, Iris. Clean the kitchen up and meet me and Giselle in the parlor afterward.” Cassandra held the door open and watched Iris head back to the kitchen. “She cares about you. Perhaps more than she ought.”
Denny wiggled her fingers and toes. “Is that why she poisoned me?”
Cassandra laughed. “Don’t be silly. No poison was involved. It was a binding potion, which is different from a binding spell but has nearly the same results.” Cassandra leaned in. “I see you’re regaining feeling.” Helping Denny sit up, Cassandra brushed at stray hair from Denny’s forehead. “I apologize. But I believe had I told you, your demon would have taken issue.”
“And you’re probably correct. I think it’s claustrophobic.”
“Well, I needed to see the strength of her binding potions on someone strong and unsuspecting. That would be you.”
“So you did summon me.”
Cassandra smiled. “Actually, I did not. So...to what do I owe this pleasure?”
Denny flexed her hands. Paralysis was a creepy ass feeling. “I was hoping you could tell me where Valeria is. It’s time.”
Cassandra’s eyebrow shot up. “Valeria? Why now?”
“I was re-reading my mom’s journals and it seems Valeria’s name appears here and there, but there isn’t anything significant. I was just wondering—”
“If Valeria was your mother’s witch?”
Denny flexed her hand and then her whole arm. “Oh, I am pretty certain she was, but again, no one will confirm or deny. Actually I was wondering if she had any insight as to what went on the days before Mom and Dad were run off the road.” Slowly pushing her legs over the side of the bed, Denny carefully stood up. “Whatever that potion is, it kicked my ass. I hope you give her an A-plus.”
Cassandra grinned. “You’d need to speak with Valeria, herself, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope. Witches seldom reveal anything about their hunters, and Valeria, as you know, answers to no one.” Cassandra wrapped her arms around Denny’s neck and hugged her tightly. “Speaking of which...when will you choose your witch?”
Gently pulling away, Denny shrugged. “I can barely contain my demon, Cass. I’m far too green to throw a witch into the mix.” Just as Denny finished, Brianna walked through the door and quickly up the stairs, but not before Denny spotted four scratch marks on her neck.
The Hanta leapt to life and Denny felt the familiar heat flow thickly through her veins.
Sensing the change in Denny, Cassandra grabbed Denny’s arm before she could go after Brianna. “Let it go. It is not your concern.”
“Are you crazy? Of course it’s my concern! That shit is stopping today.”
“You cannot make a woman see abuse she is unwilling to see for herself. You think we haven’t all tried to get her to see what a bitch her girlfriend is? Do you think for one second––”
“Let. Go.” Denny growled, pulling her arm free.
“Hunter, if you respect your friendship with Bria––”
But Denny had already turned away. “Brianna?”
Brianna stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down. “It’s nothing and yes, it’s over. I handled it. What’s done is done.” Then she disappeared into her bedroom.
“You heard her,” Cassandra said from behind. “Let it be, Hunter. Bri has asked the coven to let her handle it and we have respected her wishes. You need to as well.”
“That’s what Rush said.”
“Your ghost may not have two brain cells to rub together, but in this, she is spot on.”
Denny hesitated a moment before starting for the front door. “I understand, but you see, there’s one problem. She asked you to leave it be. She didn’t ask me.”
“Hunter, don’t be a fool.”
But Denny wasn’t listening any longer. The Hanta’s growls were roaring in her ears.
***
“Hi Mom,” Denny
said, kneeling in front of her.
Gwen Silver was sitting in front of a huge picture window as she always did this time of day, her tall, statuesque frame somehow diminished by the metal wheelchair she lived in.
Princess, her attendant, had dressed her in a pretty red and orange sundress, yellow Crocs, and plastic sunglasses.
Looking up at the Filipina nurse, Denny whispered, “I got it for now, Princess, thank you.”
Princess nodded. “I get coffee.”
“I’d like that, thank you.”
Princess leaned down and locked the wheels before leaving Gwen and Denny alone in front of the window overlooking the greenbelt that ran through the rest home. The roses were in full bloom and the apricot and yellow blossoms looked like miniature suns. It was always so pretty there in the early summer.
Taking Gwen’s hands, Denny smiled. “Okay Mom, I’ve re-read your journal and can’t help but wonder if Valeria was your witch...if she was the reason you chose Savannah.”
Denny waited for a response she knew would never come from her catatonic mother, so she continued.
“She’s...special, I know, I just...I can’t seem to pin her down. I might need her but she’s kind of disappeared. You know how those witches keep their cards close to their chest. They’ve closed ranks around her. Protecting her from the big, bad hunter and all.”
“You always talk to her like that?”
Denny turned around to find Ames Walker standing at the door, looking dapper in a blue collared shirt, khaki pants and navy blue loafers. His salt-and-pepper hair was combed back neatly, making his grey sideburns look almost white.
Ames was Denny’s trainer in all things demonic. He had been a friend of Gwen’s from way back and was her unofficial trainer.
Rising, Denny tilted her head at him. “I didn’t know you visited on Thursdays.”
“I don’t. Wednesdays are usually when I come, but a little bird told me you were looking for Valeria, so I came by to see if you needed my assistance.” Ames walked over and kissed Gwen’s forehead. “You look as beautiful as ever, sweet one. Has your kid been boring you to tears with stories about hunting demons?”
Blood of the Demon (The Silver Legacy Book 3) Page 2