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Coven Betrayed (The Silver Legacy Book 4)

Page 10

by Alex Westmore


  Ames included.

  “Good choice using this weird floating inner tube,” Iris said, covering her nose and mouth. “No demons on board except sea sickness and motion disorders.”

  Denny smiled at her. The little witch had certainly grown on her. “The Chunnel left us very little wiggle room, and the ferry was too damned slow. I just want to get across the Channel as quickly as possible. Denny looked over her shoulder at Cassandra, who was reading a book about the Catholic Church. They hadn’t spoken about Cassandra’s last words to her.

  What was there to say?

  Love?

  Denny hadn’t loved another woman since Rush, and so far, the failure to launch rate with Brianna remained at zero-for-four.

  Was that a sign? Was the universe trying to tell her something?

  She loved Cassandra, to be sure, but not in a couples-in-a-relationship sort of way. They made great lovers with explosive sex and wild passion, but that wasn’t love. It was lust on a carnal level they both enjoyed.

  Cassandra glanced up from her reading and smiled slightly. “Relax, Hunter. I’m not asking you to marry me.”

  Iris’s head swiveled around.

  “Stow it,” Denny growled, glancing across the aisle to see if Annalee was listening.

  The elfish hunter was sound asleep, so she remained quiet. Not so with Iris.

  “Uh, DH, is there something you want to––”

  Denny flashed red eyes at the witch. “Not. Now.”

  Leaning back, Iris blew out a breath. “You know, you can always talk to me about...stuff,” she whispered. “You don’t have to go all Hanta on me.”

  Denny slowly turned. “No, I can’t. You live with these women. They are your people. I am just your job. Now hush.” Closing her eyes, Denny’s first thought was of Cassandra’s hands around her. The soft feel of soapy water and skin against skin. That woman could raise the dead with her sensuality and…

  Denny’s eyes popped open and she found Cassandra smiling at her.

  “Witches,” Denny grumbled, unlocking her seat belt and making her way to the restroom.

  Once inside, she splashed cold water on her face and looked into the mirror. Her eyes, while not the blood red of the Hanta, were red enough.

  “Put it in your pants, motherfucker,” she growled, splashing water over her face a few more times. Only this time, when she looked in the mirror, Cassandra was standing behind her, a wry grin on her face.

  “Have an itch that needs scratching?” Cassandra asked, closing the door and pinning Denny to the small sink.

  “How—”

  “Little tiny locks can’t stop big, old, bad witches, silly hunter.” And with hands swifter than any human hands she’d ever seen, Cassandra ripped Denny’s pants off and lifted her up on the sink, their lips locked like lovers who had been apart too long.

  Cassandra licked two fingers and then slid them down to Denny’s pussy. She stopped short of entering her and grinned. “Seems that itch is already quite wet.” Then she slid two fingers inside of Denny, all the while keeping her eyes locked on Denny’s. “But then, thinking of me has always done that to you.”

  “Damn…you…”

  “I know you have other lovers, hunter, but do they do this?” Cassandra curled her fingers, hitting Denny exactly where she needed to.

  Denny’s hips lifted to meet her fingers.

  “Or this.” Lowering her mouth to Denny’s clit, Cassandra swirled her tongue around the nub, never touching it…but teasing it…feeling it grow and harden.

  Denny laid her head back, her hands gripping the counter, her legs opening for Cassandra as if ordered.

  “Oh shit. Oh Christ.”

  “Shh. Be still, hunter. Feel every stroke, every touch, every breath.”

  Moving her mouth up Denny’s body, Cassandra kissed her stomach, her chest, both nipples, her shoulder, her neck, and finally her mouth. Denny eagerly returned the kiss, her hands in Cassandra’s hair, holding her in the kiss as Cassandra’s fingers plunged in and out, her thumb caressing Denny’s clit until bringing her to an orgasm that shook them both.

  As the waves of clenching and throbbing slowly receded, Cassandra gently pulled away from the kiss, took her fingers out of Denny, and then put them in her own mouth.

  “Cassandra—”

  “No words from you, hunter. This is the last time I come to you. I understand you have feelings for Brianna. I do. And because she is a sister in my coven, I must give her the room to explore a relationship with you. I did not divulge my feelings for you to extract them in kind. I spoke my truth in order to give that truth to the Goddess and let come what may. It need not be awkward or change anything between us—except, of course, our physical relationship. If you truly wish to make it work with Brianna, you have my blessing. I’ll not stand in the way unless you come to me.”

  Cassandra kissed Denny softly. “And even then, I will only return your affections as long as Brianna is aware. But know this, hunter: with or without Brianna, I’ll fight Satan himself to keep you from harm. On that, you can bet the farm.” Cassandra left and closed the door behind her, leaving Denny to pull up her pants and wonder, “What the fuck am I doing?”

  When she opened the bathroom door once more, Annalee pushed her back in and locked it behind her. “Dude. What the hell is going on? You banging that hottie or what? And in this tiny bathroom no less? Props to you, my friend.”

  “What are you doing?”

  Annalee looked around, feigning innocence. “Man, you kidding me? I came to applaud.”

  Denny pinched the bridge of her nose. “You really are a nutcase. You know that, right?”

  “I may be, but I could never get a chick to fuck me in a tiny closet, let alone a bathroom. The entire hovercraft could feel her attraction to you.”

  “It’s that obvious?”

  “It’s that obvious, yes.” Annalee lowered her voice. “Ames has briefed me on what’s going on. Are you fucking serious that we’re starting a cleansing? Holy shit in a handbag! A cleansing? How fun is that?”

  Denny nodded. “Well, I don’t know about fun, but we’re going to take out the Kramers first, then find Hildegard’s novel so we can figure out how the hell to put the dark genie back in the bottle.”

  “Dark genie. I like that.”

  “I think the Occidis will give us the information we need to stop both the witchers and the demons from going against us in an all-out war. I don’t know how or why I know this; I just think Hildegard had a vision about how to stop the stream of evil from becoming a flash flood.”

  Annalee smiled.

  “What?”

  “I can tell you’re back in school. You’re talking all brainiac and shit.”

  Denny smiled. “My best friend has a MegaMind and said she would un-friend me if I didn’t stop talking ghetto.”

  “Ah man, but ghetto is so fun.” Annalee lowered her voice slightly. “How in the hell do you intend on finding the book?”

  Denny smiled softly. “I’m not. My Hanta is. He was there. If we get to familiar surroundings, he might be able to remember where she placed it.”

  “You’re brilliant, Silver.”

  “Nah. My demon might be, though.” Opening the door, Denny nodded to the older gentleman waiting. He made some caustic remark under his breath that made both Denny and Annalee stop and look at each other.

  “Did he just—”

  “Yes he did.”

  “Well then, ready?”

  Denny grinned. “Absolutely.”

  Both women crowded around him and flashed demon red eyes at him.

  The old man stumbled backwards, falling into the restroom, where they closed the door.

  “Asshole,” Annalee said, her eyes returning to blue. “I gotta admit...I’ve always loved doing that to the jerk-offs of the world. Might be the only plus of carrying a demon around.”

  Denny agreed. “Yeah. One of the few perks. Speaking of which, where is your witch? This is the second time s
he’s been a no-show.”

  “If you think she’d come over here to Witcherland to fight the damned witch hunters, you don’t know my witch; has a mind of her own, that one, and she thinks this is a suicide mission.”

  “Sounds like a handful.”

  “She is. Now, your little plum is something else entirely. A seventh of a seventh? Jeez, Silver, you got the first round draft pick.”

  “I know. It’s why I have to make sure these fuckers are put on ice for good. I won’t have her or my friends looking over their shoulders their whole lives. These witchers are gonna feel the pain of American demon hunters.” Denny stood in the aisle and waited for Annalee to get seated.

  “Excellent. Well then, Robin Hood, it’s time we get our hunting groove on and show ’em who’s boss.”

  “Who’s boss?” Iris said as Denny sat down.

  Taking her hand, Denny grinned. “I am.”

  The moment they stepped off the hovercraft in France, the little American army of supernaturals felt it. The air seemed positively alive and crackled with a paranormal energy that raised the hackles on Denny’s neck.

  “Cassandra?”

  “Witchers, yes,” she replied, pulling her cloak closed around her. “Blood thirsty motherfuckers.”

  “We’ll have to proceed with great caution,” Ames said. “We can’t go around just killing humans, even if they are witch hunters.”

  “Puts us at a distinct disadvantage, doesn’t it?” Annalee said, reaching for her weapon.

  “Uh-uh,” Ames said. “No weapons unless we face a demon.”

  “I’m not picking up any demonic energy,” Denny said.

  “Me neither.” Annalee said, returning the cylinder to her vest.

  “They are sending a message,” Cassandra said. “The witchers want us to believe they fear you not at all. Trust me. The demons are near enough to aid them if it comes down to it.”

  “We need a park,” Denny said. “Somewhere away from prying eyes. Anyone have a bead on how many?”

  “At least ten,” Iris said, eyes closed.

  “The Jardin du Luxembourg is a twenty-two hectare park and is our best chance of keeping this one on the down low.” Annalee walked in front of Iris, looking down at her phone, when a triangular dart struck her in her neck.

  She pulled it out, stared at it, and then said, “Oh shit,” before collapsing into Ames’s arms.

  Denny felt the Hanta rise in her chest. “Motherfucker.”

  “It’s a tranq dart,” Ames said. “They only knocked her out.”

  “Then get her to the cathedral. We’ll meet you there.”

  “We?” Cassandra asked, eyebrow raised in question.

  “Me and Iris. We don’t know what they’ve shot into Annalee, and we can’t take any chances. I need you there to take care of her.”

  Iris and Cassandra exchanged glances before Iris said, “Actually, DH, I’m the better healer of the two of us. I ought to stay.”

  Denny hesitated but a second. “Then go. Cassandra, you with me.”

  “Until my last breath, lover.”

  Denny nodded. “Keep her alive, Iris. And if she dies, kill everyone you can find. Human or not.”

  As Ames and Iris hailed a cab and folded Annalee into it, Denny and Cassandra walked as quickly as they could to the park.

  “Why would they use a tranq dart on Annalee? Why not just kill her?”

  “The dart was not meant for the hunter. It was meant for Iris.”

  “How can you be sure of that?”

  “Annalee had just walked in front of Iris when she was hit. Besides, why sedate just one hunter? No, they were going for Iris because if she went down, you would be fighting without your witch. Don’t you understand? It is you they fear most.”

  “They didn’t count on you.”

  “Remember, lover, these creatures probably know little about you or our world. Their heritage is European. Their history European. They might even assume that I am Annalee’s witch.”

  Denny picked up the pace. “They’re gonna have to be better than this to stop us.”

  “Perhaps, but do you not find it odd that they knew we had arrived mere moments after we did?”

  “Do you think your past transgressions are haunting us?”

  Cassandra shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

  “Sebastian, maybe? I mean, maybe that’s why he has all that dough.”

  “Felicity may be a royal snooty bitch, but she is loyal to our sisterhood. She would gut him and eat his entrails before allowing him to put us in danger.”

  “Well, that may very well be, but you aren’t really her favorite person, are you?”

  “That matters not. Trust me. It was not them.”

  Denny pulled out her cell to bring up the map of Paris.

  Cassandra stared at her. “Hunter, the day you fought those voodoo demons in New Orleans...you told me they shot your phone out of your hand.”

  Denny lowered the phone. “Yeah?”

  “When you got a new phone, did you buy it at the Apple store or—”

  Denny looked at Cassandra, at her phone, and back to Cassandra. “Fuck. I bought it at the Apple store, but the guy waiting on me told me there was a new program that—motherfucker, they’re using my phone.” Denny started to chuck it when Cassandra grabbed her wrist.

  “No worries, hunter. We can use this information to our advantage. Once we clear the park and do what needs to be done at the Cathedral, we can buy a clean one and send yours back to England on a ferry.” Cassandra handed Denny her phone. “Here.”

  Denny grinned. “I like how you think.” Holding up a finger, she hesitated as she tried to remember Lauren’s phone number. It took three botched tries before she finally dialed Lauren, who answered on one ring. “Lauren, it’s me. Have to ditch my phone. Answer all calls from—”

  “They’re after me, Den.”

  Denny felt a frozen rope run down her spine. “What? How do you know?”

  “Thank God Rush was watching TV. She heard a car door slam and saw them coming. I was in the lair, so she came in, told me to lock myself in here and not come out until she came to tell me the coast was clear. That was yesterday.”

  “Jesus, Lauren. I am so, so sorry. Are you sure it’s you they’re after? Maybe they’re waiting for me.”

  “Uh-uh. Rush heard one of them talking about your ‘tech head’, and that without me, you didn’t have jack shit.”

  “Well, that’s true. Okay. Okay. Let me think.”

  Cassandra waved her hand.

  “One sec, Lauren.” To Cassandra, “You got any ideas?”

  “She needs to be at the coven safe house. I’ll call and send someone to get her.”

  Denny shook her head. “No. Too risky.” To Lauren, “Are they demons or witches?”

  “Rush says they’re human, so witches, I guess. Jesus, Den, this is like being in my own horror show. They camped outside all day. I haven’t left the lair.”

  “I’m so sorry. Look, stay where you are. You’re safe in the lair. I’m calling for backup.”

  “Backup? You can’t send witches. These dudes could be witch hunters.”

  “Don’t worry. Just stay in there.” Hanging up, Denny called her other best friend, Victor, a large gay man who could practically bench press his weight, and then she called an ex-football player, Pat Patterson, who could pull a tractor with his teeth if he had to.

  Victor wanted to know why she didn’t just call the cops. She’d thought of that but they’d just come back. She needed the goons removed and Lauren escorted to a dorm room where she’d be around plenty of people all the time.

  Both men agreed and were already on their way even as Denny warned them there could be guns or knives, or, or, or…

  After she hung up, Cassandra grabbed her arm and pulled her into a cafe. “They’re closing in. I wish you would let us help your friend.”

  “Lauren is fine as long as she’s in the lair. My guys will do whatever they nee
d to get her out and to safety. As for the coven being safe for Lauren, it might be, but not if those guys watching the house are witchers. Uh-uh. I won’t put your sisters in any more danger. Victor and Pat will take care of her. I trust them. Right now, we need to dust these guys and get to the cathedral. I hate leaving Ames and Iris alone.”

  Cassandra peeked out the window. “What are your thoughts on splitting up?”

  “You and me?”

  “No. All of us.”

  “No way. If it’s a battle they want, I say we bring it to them.”

  “Then you need to better protect Iris.”

  Denny looked out the window as well. “Like bullet-proof vest, or what?”

  Cassandra surprised her by nodding. “Hunter, we are in enemy territory, terribly outmanned and outgunned. We...we need help.”

  “Why does it sound like you have some?”

  Cassandra pulled out her cell phone and pressed her contacts. When someone answered, she started speaking in fluent French.

  When she ended the conversation, Cassandra smiled at Denny. “Four years of college French. It’s never come in handy. Thank God it did today.”

  “Friends of yours?”

  Cassandra shrugged. “Something like that. You ready?”

  Denny nodded. “I hate that we’re fighting humans. Demons blowing up is one thing, but fighting people, well, it’s murder no matter how you slice it.”

  “Perhaps, but therein lies the beauty of witchcraft. We have the capability of spinning an event any way we want in the minds of the law. Do not worry about killing or not killing these cretins, hunter. Just stay alive.”

  Ten minutes later, Cassandra and Denny reached the park and waited.

  “They’ve brought demons with them now,” Denny said quietly. “I’d say ten lower, four mid, and two who might be a bit tough.”

  “Yes. There are not nearly as many witchers. Four. Perhaps five.”

  “So, we’re looking at two dozen maybe?”

  “Give or take.”

  “They won’t know what to do once I ditch this phone.”

  “Correct. It may give us the respite we need once we are away from Paris.”

 

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