The Demon Within (The Silver Legacy Book 2)

by Alex Westmore

  “You know, just because you’re possessed doesn’t mean you have to wander around at night like some ghoulish cliché. I mean, come on.” The intruder waved her hand in the air. “This is nutso. If you aren’t careful, you’ll be nutso soon.”

  Denny stared through the dark from her perch on a marble mausoleum, her Hanta-upgraded eyes seeing easily through the murkiness.

  Brianna Stuart.

  “How did you find me?”

  “It’s good seeing you, too.” Brianna slung her purse strap over her head and proceeded to climb up. Denny offered no help.

  “No, seriously. How?”

  Sitting next to Denny, Brianna studied her and then finally shook her head. “Goddess, even in the dark you look like shit. Apparently, you have not been eating the food I’ve left. I noticed a couple of really fat feral cats lurking around the door.”

  Denny gazed at Brianna for longer than she wanted to before turning away. Her blond hair tied in a ponytail revealed all of the angles of her pretty face. She had lips Victor had once called Jolie lips: plump, soft, red, and kissable. Denny had wanted to kiss those once. That felt like a lifetime ago.

  “Were you following me?”

  Brianna sighed, frustrated. “Jesus, Denny, after almost a month of no contact and all you care about is how I found you? I’m a witch, for Christ’s sake. You’re possessed. Do the math.”

  Denny looked away at a distant gravestone, and the Hanta relaxed.

  “You know, Denny, most women would have just given up on you.”

  Denny turned back to her. “Most women would have made the smart choice of moving on.”

  Brianna retied her pony tail. “Luckily for you I am not most women.” Brianna leaned closer, examining Denny’s face. “What in the hell is happening to you?”

  “Not getting much sun?”

  “No, seriously. Are you okay?”

  “I am.”

  Brianna waited for more. The eerie silence surrounded them like the walls of some paranormal cocoon. “Look, I don’t know what all happened back there a month ago, but I’m your friend. Let me help.”

  “Who said I needed help?”

  “Seriously. You’d have to be blind not to see that you are clearly in distress. One look at you with my eyes tells me you’re not okay. One feel of you with my senses and it’s confirmed. You are so not okay.”

  “Is that Brianna my friend, or Brianna the witch making that assessment?”

  “Both. Look, I’m sure this cold, prickly routine of yours has scared others away, but I see right through this tough-girl charade of yours. So, since we’re both out on this lovely night atop a mausoleum, why don’t you just give up the act and talk to me?”

  The moon cast a light on Brianna that made her look like a younger version of herself.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “What happened to you after you sent those demons packing? You’ve dropped out of school, your friends are worried sick, and you’re prowling around cemeteries at night. You’re clearly not eating. I doubt you’re even sleeping. Have I missed anything?”

  A protracted silence followed her question. When Denny finally spoke, her voice was barely audible. “Rush left me.”

  Brianna tilted her head. “Left you? As in––”

  “As in I’ve not seen her since you came to the house that night. That’s what made me realize that I had a choice to make. I can either embrace the demon within me and find out who really killed Lisa and her family, or I can walk away from Quick and the legacy to be with my sisters and my friends.”

  “So you chose the former.”

  Denny shrugged. “There never really was a choice, right? The only real option was whether or not I would choose to put those I care about in harm’s way.”

  “Oohhhh,” Brianna said, pulling a knee to her chest. “I get it. You’re detaching from everyone who cares about you to keep them safe.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You don’t get to co-opt our choices simply because you’re afraid for us. Who died and made you Mayor of the Land of Bad Decisions?”

  Denny chuffed. “Being connected to me or my family is dangerous. If I had tuberculosis, I would do everything I could to separate myself from those I care about. This is no different…just as dangerous.”

  “Love is dangerous, Denny Silver. With or without a demon involved. Jesus, you’re thick-headed. Look, they came at you because you were a newbie hunter––fresh meat. They saw an opportunity to get rid of a Hanta Raya. They failed miserably. You really think they’ll come back once you get experience under your belt? You kicked their asses.”

  “I’m not waiting around to find out. I have a plan in place. I go out every night to cull the herd, Brianna. To let them know, loud and clear, that my ball is in play. What I am doing is easier to do than sitting around waiting.”

  “But Denny, you just started your training with Ames. At least...at least go back and––”

  “No way. He disapproves and I don’t need his permission to go after the demon who set Quick up.” Denny paused, and then turned. “How did you know I haven’t been back to see Ames? Did he send you here?”

  “Oh for Christ’s sake, no one sent me here. I am here because I care. Is it that hard for you to understand?”

  “Then do yourself a favor and stop caring.”

  “So that’s it, then? You just walk away from everyone and everything in your life in an effort to save your brother and protect the rest of us mere mortals from the demonic world?”

  The wind rustled the leaves and Denny paused to listen for footsteps she knew she’d heard. “That life is over for me, Bri. I’m not the same person I was a month ago. You saw it. Saw me. I’m possessed, plain and simple.”

  Brianna reached out and held Denny’s hand tightly in hers. “I get that you’re angry, I truly do. But nothing says you have to do it alone or throw your whole life away because of it.”

  Denny looked at their clasped hands before gently pulling away. “That’s where you’re wrong. I say I have to do it alone. So I have to ask you to please, please stop coming by the house.” Denny rose. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got rounds to do. The night is still young and there’s plenty to get done.”

  Helping Brianna off the mausoleum, Denny smiled softly at her. “Thank you for caring. In another place and another time, I think––”

  “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it. You’re wrong, Denny. The whole way you’re going about this is all wrong, but I read you loud and clear. Just know––if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be here for you. Always.”

  Brianna hugged Denny before walking away. Denny felt herself melt into the darkness, a mere shadow of her former self.

  The next morning, Denny dressed in her nicest clothes and sat across from Quick, making introductions.

  “Quick, this is Reese. She’s a––”

  Quick didn’t even cast a glance at Reese, but instead, stared at Denny. “What the fuck? You look like a Mac truck hit you and then backed up over you. What the hell is going on?”

  Denny shrugged. “I’ve lost a little weight. No biggie. Now listen, there’s not a lot of––”

  Quick held his hands up. “Whoa. That’s more than a little weight, Denny. You look like death on cracker. What’s happened? And why the hell are you wasting money on the slim chance of another trial?”

  Denny looked to Reese to answer.

  “Because your sister believes you’re innocent and from what I’ve seen, she could very well be on to something. I’ve investigated a lot of crimes and criminals, Quick, and there’s a whole lot about your case that doesn’t make sense.”

  He stared at Reese a long time. “What do you hope to find that nobody else could?”

  Reese leaned forward, her hands folded on the table. “For starters, how about the truth?”

  Quick chuckled. “Oh, that. That got lost eighteen months ago, once the attorne
ys got involved.”

  Reese pulled her file out and opened it. “This is what was said. I want to hear it from you. What happened that night?”

  Quick looked to Denny. “You’re not gonna give this up, are you?”

  “This isn’t even just about you, Q. It’s about our family. The legacy. It’s about making sure everyone knows not to fuck with us. If I let them get away with this, what will they do to Sterling or Pure?”

  Quick leaned back. “Goldy…”

  “I’m not a little girl anymore, Quick. I’ve...seen things and done things I’m not proud of, but failing to take care of our family isn’t one of them. You have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

  Quick put his elbows on the table. “I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t do it, but my attorney––”

  “Was a piece of shit who never should have taken the case. He did nothing, Quick. He may as well have just driven you straight to the prison himself. And that, right there, is why we’re here. The D.A. merely found a way of plugging those holes. So why don’t you just tell us what happened that night, and maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to get you out of here.”

  Quick inhaled deeply, then started his tale. “There’s not a whole lot to tell you, really. Lisa and I had been dating two years, off and on, and––”

  “Why off and on? You a player?”

  “A player? Me?” Quick chuckled. “I wish. No, she didn’t like commitment.”

  Reese took notes but kept her eyes on Quick. “Go on.”

  “That night, I came over and she was saying goodbye to some guy. Some guy I’d never seen before.”

  “Right. The mystery man no one could find.”

  Quick nodded. “Yeah, how lame does that sound?”

  “Very, but that’s beside the point. Go on.”

  “She seemed agitated, but wouldn’t tell me why he was there, but I could tell she was bothered by something. She suggested we go to her room which was detached from her parents’ house, so we went out there.”

  “How long were you out there?”

  “Five, maybe ten minutes. We’d just been talking and hanging out when we heard the screams. We both took off for the house, Lisa ahead of me.”

  “Why was she ahead of you?”

  Quick blushed. “I...uh...was zipping up my pants.”

  A slight smile from Reese. “Go on.”

  Quick rubbed his hand over his face. “Lisa ran though the door and right into his knife. Slit her throat so deep, he nearly cut her head off.” Quick shuddered. “She was on the floor, probably already dead, when I ran in.”

  “Wait. What you mean probably? How could you not know if she was alive or not?”

  “Her eyes were open, blood was everywhere. I saw him going towards the front door so I started after him.”

  “Okay, I’ve read the reports. This is where it gets dicey. You say you saw him and started after him.”

  Quick nodded. “But the blood. So much blood. And when I stepped over Lisa, my foot hit a puddle of it and down I went.”

  “Landing in the blood.” Reese said, consulting her notes.

  Quick nodded, his face pale. Beads of sweat dotted his upper lip. “I got up to go after him and that was when I heard him...Austin, Lisa’s father.”

  “And this is where your story goes to hell. You say you heard him moan, so you started CPR. Why CPR?”

  Slowly shaking his head, Quick said, “Ma’am, I’d just seen my girlfriend’s throat get slashed and her parents chopped up like a sushi roll. I panicked. I had no idea what to do, so I just did the first thing that came to mind. CPR.”

  Reese nodded.

  “At some point, I knew it was useless so I called nine-one-one.”

  “And what did you do while you waited?”

  “I...I sat holding Lisa’s hand. She was dead by then, but I didn’t want her to be alone.”

  “And the knife? Where did it go?

  “That’s just it. I never saw it until after I––” Quick shook his head.

  “After you what?”

  “After I blacked out.”

  Reese looked down at her notes. “You said he came from behind you and put a choke hold on you. Is that correct?”

  Quick shrugged. “I don’t know if it was him. I don’t know if he came back into the house or if someone else was waiting in there with him. All I know is someone put a choke hold on me and I was out.”

  “A choke hold. Like the kind cops use?”

  Quick nodded. “Exactly.”

  “So he knocked you out for how long?”

  “Twenty, thirty seconds, I guess. I know those choke holds are for short amounts of time, but with everything that was going on, it could have been longer.”

  “So you’re not sure.”

  “No.”

  Denny moved her chair and the scraping sound made them both turn to her.

  “Sorry.”

  Reese looked back at Quick. “And when you came to?”

  “I was holding the knife.”

  “What did you do then?”

  Quick looked down at his handcuffed hands. “I did what any normal person would do. I tried wiping my prints off.”

  “But you didn’t, did you?”

  “I did...from that knife...not from the other murder weapon.”

  “So, what the evidence showed was one knife with the prints wiped clean and another with your prints on it.”

  He nodded. “Slam dunk.”

  “There’s no such thing, my friend. Plenty of slam dunk cases have walked. That Casey Anthony woman a few years ago is just one of many examples of cases that appeared to be over before they began, yet ended far differently than most expected.” Reese closed her file and leaned back. “When you called nine-one-one, you said you thought there might still be someone else in the house with you, yet forensics could neither confirm nor deny this. Do you still believe there were two people in there with you?”

  Quick nodded. “No way he made it all the way around the house to the back door to put the choke hold on me. None. There had to have been someone upstairs who came down and nailed me, set the knife in my hand, and then took off out the back.”

  “Without leaving one bloody footprint anywhere?”

  Quick looked at Denny. “It’s possible he leapt over us all.”

  Reese leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “Leapt. What? Six? Seven feet from a standing position? I’ve seen the photographs, Quick. He would have had to take a running start in order to leap over Mrs. Austin, Lisa, you, and the blood.”

  Quick nodded. “I know. It would have taken someone with a buttload of strength to do that.”

  “And the cops canvassed the neighborhood and no one saw a guy leaving the Austins’.”

  Shaking his head, Quick swallowed loudly. “No one saw a thing.”

  Reese stood suddenly. “Thank you, Quick. That’s good for now.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “The investigative work on this case was shoddy at best. I’m going to backtrack over the evidence and shake a few trees.”

  “So...you believe me?”

  Reese grinned as she packed up. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  “Well, nobody else did.”

  “Because nobody else asked the single most important question. Why didn’t they kill you, too? If this happened as you said it did, they should have just killed you as well, but they didn’t. Instead, they set you up.”

  Quick stood, his manacles clanking together. “In a way, I’ve been dead since the moment that knife was put in my hand, so maybe they did.”

  “You hang in there, Quick. If your story is the truth, I’ll get to the bottom of this.” Reese turned to signal to the guard. She stopped and slowly turned to Quick. She tossed her pen at him and he caught it with his right hand.

  Reese grinned.

  “What did you do that for?”

  She took the pen before the guards could reach him, still grinning. “The killer
was left-handed. You are not.”

  “How do you kn––”

  “It was in the evidence, Quick. Evidence your attorney never brought up. I’m thinking that was a very significant piece and yet, he let it go. Why?”

  “Because he was lame?”

  “Oh, he was something, all right, and I’m going to find out just what that was.”

  Denny couldn’t stop thinking about the information Reese had culled from the reports and files. How did Quick’s attorney miss all of that? How had so many eyes skipped over something as vital as handedness? As the length of the leap? She could make that jump easily, but a human? No way.

  So much did not make sense.

  Sterling had wanted to pull a second mortgage on the house to pay for Quick’s legal fees, but he had said, “No way.” He’d refused, and as a result, had to settle for this apparently terrible public defender. How had no one noticed?

  Reese Oakmont noticed.

  For some reason, Denny had a lot of faith in Reese Oakmont.

  Confident, calm, and focused, Denny had done a complete background check to make sure she had more than just street cred—that she was the real deal.

  She was, and if anyone could dig up the truth Denny needed, Reese made it to the top of a very short list..

  Denny pulled up to the house and checked her messages while sitting in her car. Two from Lauren, one from Cassandra, one from Pat Patterson. She erased them all.

  As she got out of the Prius, she noticed a young girl sitting at the base of the stairs at her house.

  “Who the hell are you?” Denny practically growled, stopping directly in from of the young girl.

  She rose—all of five feet two inches with short, platinum blond spikey hair. Her eyes, if they were a color, were grey. Not blue, not bluish grey, but grey, an odd color that was accentuated by a grey stone nose-piercing. She looked all of twelve, but Denny figured her to be closer to seventeen or eighteen.

  “Iris. Iris Carter.” She held out her many-braceleted arm to shake Denny’s hand. Denny ignored it and started up the steps.

  “Whatever you’re selling, I gave at the office.”

  “Wait. Please. I...I’ve heard you might be able to help me.” Even her voice sounded young.