The Demon Within (The Silver Legacy Book 2)

by Alex Westmore

  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––”

  “My eyes. Yes, I know. What’s the number pad for?”

  “Well, to keep people from plucking your eye out to get in there, they also need the security code. It’s a safety mechanism. Go on. You can punch up to six numbers.”

  Denny did. Then Lauren operated the retinal scan and the metal door slid back silently.

  “Where in the hell did you get––”

  “Told you. A few favors here and there. Nothing to concern yourself about.”

  The scanner and passcode worked, the door slid back beautifully, and Denny’s lair was safer than it had ever been.

  “Well, thank you for all your hard work.”

  Lauren waved this away. “Oh pish posh, there was nothing hard about it. It was a labor of love. Someone has to keep watch over you, missy, what with all your running hither and thither at night.”

  “Hither and thither? Really? Who talks like that?” Denny smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Denny, this demon hunting gig, it’s permanent, isn’t it? I mean, all this––” she spread out her arms and turned around. “It’s your life now, right?”

  Denny nodded and gently pulled her from the lair. “It’s looking that way, yeah.”

  Lauren sat on the bed and folded her hands in her lap. These were questions Denny had been waiting for.

  “Go ahead and ask. It’s the least I can do for all you’ve done for me.”

  Lauren tilted her head. “Do you like it?”

  Denny sat next to her. “Like what? Creeping around at night? Killing people that explode all over me? Feeling, at times, out of control because the demon inside me becomes too hungry, too angry, or too strong?” Denny shook her head. “No, Lauren, I don’t like it, but I can either accept it and do my best to keep Savannah safe, or I can chain myself to my room and wait to die.” She shrugged. “I guess, in the end, I choose life by delivering death.”

  “How poetic.” Taking Denny’s hand, she studied her face. “You’ve changed.”

  Denny could not deny it. “Yeah. Being possessed will do that to a girl.”

  Lauren forced a grin. “No, really. You never have any fun. I can’t remember the last time I saw you laugh. You don’t hang out with your friends anymore. I don’t want you to become what you do.”

  “A demon?”

  “A killer. You need to find some balance in your life, Den, and soon.”

  Denny squeezed her hand and let go. “I will as soon as I find a way to get Quick out of jail. Until I do that, my balance doesn’t matter.”

  “Are you close?”

  Denny nodded. “I am. I’ve…well…I’ve done a few things I am not too proud of, but––”

  “Sweet pea, you crossed that line of guilt months ago when you started slashing demons to death. There’s no future in guilt, girlfriend. You’re doing the best you can under fucking weird-ass circumstances. Don’t start apologizing for it now.”

  Denny’s Journal

  Not long after I answered all of Lauren’s questions, I went to see Reese and passed her on the way downstairs. She had come to tell me that her witness had done a police sketch and when she showed it to me, I was not the least bit surprised that it resembled Tyler Jones.

  A lot.

  We had him.

  Reese was worth her weight in gold, and she had even more information.

  Apparently, Jones had discovered that the family across the street, the one that had seen him leave, had a son on parole who had mysteriously violated that parole just the day before. Tyler Jones had convinced the parents that it was best for them not to get involved in police matters, and that he was “doing them a favor” by keeping them out of this mess.

  Reese’s witness had managed to tell them just how untrue that was. All of it.

  Now, all I need is to bring this full circle to the Savannah courtroom and let the D.A. work his dirty magic.

  God how I hate that piece of shit. I wish I could decapitate him and rid the world of his badness.

  Some other time, maybe.

  For her part, Reese had also uncovered evidence that had been tampered with. She said she believed she’s collected enough for a retrial in the event I couldn’t bring Jones to justice. The case is actually going our way, and for the first time in a long time, I can see a light at the end of a very long tunnel. All I need to do is make sure Tyler Jones doesn’t fall through the cracks.

  So today I start for that crack putty to make sure that doesn’t happen.

  Two and a half hours later, Denny pulled into the lot behind a beaten and battered hotel that smelled like a combination of urine, stale beer, and cum. Dusk had fallen and she was wearing all of her hunting gear, sans Saugen. Ames wouldn’t let her have it until she had practiced long and hard.

  Which she had every intention of doing.

  Later.

  Once she finally put the mess with Quick behind her, there was a whole lot she planned on doing. Lauren was right about balance. She’d been off center ever since Rush left her, and she hadn’t yet found her footing. Once her family was safe, Denny vowed she would make the time to re-create her life.

  Her life.

  That was a joke. It was pretty clear she had no life––at least not one of her own design. Still, possessed or not, she did have choices and she could choose to devote a healthy amount of time to her real life.

  But right now, she had some ass-kicking to do so she pulled out Epée, kept it in its metal sheath and stored Fouet inside her vest. Walking to the front of the dingy motel,she was certain cockroaches the size of cats lived inside the walls.

  Denny wasted no time in locating Tyler Jones’s room. He’d parked his car right in front of it.

  Leaning in, she listened for the sound of the television. When she heard it, she slowed her breathing and allowed the Hanta to gain more than a foothold on the situation.

  Once she felt the Hanta awaken, she stood back, inhaled deeply, and kicked the door in.

  Too late, she realized her mistake.

  She’d thought the lawyer stupid for parking in front of his room.

  He wasn’t.

  It was bait, and she’d swallowed it whole.

  Half a dozen demons were waiting for her, and as they pulled her into the room, something in her stomach told her she might not survive this.

  “Took you long enough,” said one tall, thin, pock-marked twenty-something. “We’d heard you were good, but come on, you’re nothin’ but an amateur.”

  Denny brought Epée to life. She knew that in such close quarters, Fouet was useless, so she kept it in her vest pocket.

  “Put your weapons away, Ms. Silver.”

  Denny looked over at the bathroom door, where a larger-than-large demon stood.

  He was no man possessed by a demon––he was, for all intents and purposes, a bona fide demon, the kind of children’s nightmares, with legs of a goat, a barrel chest, Popeye arms, and a face that could freeze Medusa’s.

  Asmodeus. She knew by the reaction of her Hanta, which began filling her veins and muscles. This was not a low-level demon, but something much, much more. Everything about it told her it came with powers she’d not yet experienced.

  “You really ought to learn to control him better,” the demon said, clopping over to her on hooves that stopped making noise once they reached the grubby carpet.

  “What the fuck are you? Something out of Grimm’s Fairy Tales?” Denny did not take her eyes off the demon––and she paid the price for it when two of the others grabbed her arms. She did not release Epée, but retracted the blade.

  “Your Master is not happy with you, Hanta Raya,” the demon purred, his overly large face peering into Denny’s. “You have destroyed, maimed, or obliterated many of his soldiers over these past centuries, and for that, you will have to pay.”

&nbs
p; “Fuck you, Goat Boy. If Asmodeus was half the demon as my Hanta, he wouldn’t send vermin like you to clean up his messes.”

  The demon’s retort was a backhand across her face, splitting her lip.

  Denny laughed. “Pussy.” The Hanta’s deep growling insult sliced through the thick air. “You always did hit like a girl, you fuckwad.”

  The demon stood back, tilting his head. “Interesting. You control him not at all. I wonder why he’s even allowed you to remain anything but a passenger.”

  “As usual, you underestimate the situation.”

  This made the demon laugh. “Oh no, my friend, it is you who has underestimated the situation. Your days of wandering free in this world are over. The Master must make an example of you for all who wish to betray him. That lesson, as you’ll see, will come at quite a price.” The demon raised his fist behind his head and that was when Denny struck.

  Dropping to her ass, she felt the wind from his errant punch above her head. But before she could unsheath Epée, one of the minions kicked it from her hand.

  A sweeping leg kick brought two demons to the ground. She pulled one of her boot knives from her Doc Marten boots and drove it so hard into the eye of one that the point came out the back of his head––but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. There were too many of them and just one of her.

  Then she thought back to one of Peyton’s entries.

  He’d been outnumbered in a small room as well, and had escaped by hurling himself through a window and making a stand in the parking lot. She’d been mesmerized when she read the tale of how he just blasted through the window and came up on his feet ready for battle.

  And that’s exactly what Denny did.

  She landed, shoulder first, rolled over once, jumped to her feet, and was running into the darkness as fast as her legs would carry her. She fully expected to hear gunshots from behind, but there were none.

  Why in the hell were they letting her get away?

  Just when Denny thought she might be home free, she rounded a corner and ran right into the demon––only now, the goat legs were gone and he looked more like a bald bouncer at a bar.

  “Where would you run off to, Golden Silver? There is no place you can run, no place you can hide that my Master will not find you.”

  “Look. This is between Asmodeus and my Hanta. Can’t you leave me out of it?”

  The demon laughed. “I’m afraid not. You see this pitiful human shell is going to contain your Hanta for all of eternity. And even though you’ll still be alive with a legacy demon within, there will be no place to go but insane. You and your Hanta shall live out the rest of your sort life caged together in torment.”

  With that, the demon punched Denny so hard, he knocked her out.

  When Denny woke up, her jaw throbbed and her muscles ached. When she tried to sit up, she hit her forehead on something.

  “No. No. No. No. No. No.” Panic set in as her hands felt all around the wooden box encasing her.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Denny’s heart raced as the realization struck her like a fist in her chest.

  They’d buried her alive.

  Searching for her phone, she realized she only had one thing on her she could use for light—her new watch.

  Heart pounding against her chest, she tried to bring her wrist to her face when an invisible power stopped her. She’d felt the same power when Ames had her put the dagger to her chest.

  “What the hell?” Denny was inches away from complete panic. No light, no air, no way of knowing what was happening to her; she was nearly frozen with fear.

  “Come on, man. I’m not trying to kill myself. I just need some light.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “And some air.”

  Suddenly, she felt movement. Like someone was now carrying her.

  “Let me outta here! Someone help me!”

  No reply came except the sound of rattling chains as they scraped across the top of her prison.

  She didn’t have the nerve to call it what it was.

  A casket. Her final resting place.

  “Listen to me, Golden Silver.”

  Denny held her breath.

  The demon’s voice reverberated from outside her cage.

  “You know so little of the world you’ve entered. You do not know how demons are created. Do not know why they move so easily among you. Well, let me elucidate some history for you. Your demon was once a terrible, terrible man. When the people he’d victimized put him in a box and tossed him into the ocean, he prayed to every deity he could until at last, one heard his pleas. That would be my Master. So, he saved the Hanta from a watery death and allowed his spirit to be reborn as a Hanta Raya in order to show everyone, time and time again, what a powerful darkness Asmodeus possesses. And what did your Hanta do in exchange for having his prayers being answered? He turned his back on our Master and allowed the one woman who knew how to defeat us to live.”

  “Fuck you.”

  The demon laughed. “No, Hanta. Fuck you. Your legacy ends here. When Golden Silver dies, there will be no place for you to go. You will remain in her until she is nothing but dust, and then, you shall die.”

  “You’re going to drown me?”

  The demon laughed. “Actually, no. Not yet. You’ll sink to the bottom of the bay, where you will languish until your air supply runs out, killing you and your demon in the watery grave he should have experienced a millennia ago. My master is nothing if not poetic. He does not wish to collect your demon. He wishes to make an example of him. I would have simply shot you in the face, but he wishes to––”

  “To prove a fucking point?”

  “Of course. Again, your ignorance rings like a bell. My master is the king of pain and suffering. A simple death is never how he operates. The pain and suffering you must consider now as you slowly suffocate is that you will not be the only one to die this day. When your witch friends receive a call from you to bring the Magyar forth, they will, and he will kill every single one of those cows. I want you to think about that as you die. Think about the power of my master and what havoc your demon caused in your life. Think about that, Golden Silver, as you and your Hanta die together.”

  Suddenly, the box shook as it was lifted and then dropped. She heard the splash of the water and felt the slow movement as it sank.

  “Calm. Stay calm, Golden,” she said to herself. Reaching for her other boot knife, Denny hit her head three times before her fingers finally closed around it. “Think. Come on, Golden, think.”

  Closing her eyes and fighting off the panic seeping into her soul, she could feel the Hanta coming back to life. Only stronger—angrier.

  “We’re fucked, big guy. We––” She opened her eyes once more.

  Suddenly, she felt it in her chest––in her arms, the fire radiating outward to all her extremities. She felt it stronger than she ever had.

  It was survival for them now, and the Hanta was not about to roll over or give up.

  Inhaling deeply, Denny closed her eyes and let two tears run down the side of her face. “Help us,” she whispered. “Please get us out of here.” She knew if it did not, the Magyar would kill them all. Quick would rot in jail. Sterling and Pure would die.

  She had failed.

  Horribly.

  As much as she wanted to thrash about like a crazy person, she felt an odd sense of calm wash over her. The Hanta was filling her, taking over, coming to life.

  But why? After all, what could she do to get out of this?

  Ten seconds later, she realized she’d asked the wrong question.

  The better question was what could the thousand-year-old Hanta do?

  Denny opened her eyes.

  Plenty.

  “Save us. Do whatever you have to, but fucking save us.”

  Denny felt the thinness of the air and started to nod off only to feel the heat of lava flowing through her.

  “I will.”

  The Hanta now took complete control of her. She was barely even in t
he passenger seat this time, as the demon consumed her, taking over her arms, legs, mind, heart, and soul.

  Everything she’d been was now all Hanta Raya.

  Placing her palms on the sides of the coffin, she started pushing. The more she pushed, the stronger the Hanta seemed to become. There was a slight give to the sides, as if the coffin were bending to her will. Ever so slowly, and by degrees, the sides gave way, allowing water to stream into her tomb. It did not matter to the Hanta, who kept pushing until the left side of the casket bowed open. Water filled the tiny space instantly, but the chains that had caused the casket to sink made it difficult for the side to break free completely.

  Denny could only hold her breath now and count the seconds before the game was over. Freezing water was rapidly filling her tomb, washing over her body now.

  They forcefully pushed on the weakened wall.

  When the left slat snapped in half, it was still caught by the chain.

  She reached for Fouet, pointed it out the small opening and sliced the chain in half before putting Fouet back in her vest.

  Once the chain fell away, she grabbed the jagged wood in her bare hands and slowly pried it away from the nails in the corner. She was almost out of breath, but feeling the utter determination from the Hanta gave her the courage to hold on. He tore through the wood like it was Playdoh.

  When the left side of the casket was gone, and water completely filled the inside, she scooted out the opening and swam as quickly as he could toward the surface. Denny’s lungs burned, her face throbbed, but she was at least free of the casket.

  Now if only she could break free of the water before her lungs burst.

  She could see nothing up ahead and had no idea how much further or how much longer she could hold her breath, but the thought of failing her family and friends helped her to hold on…hold on until, with one final surge, Denny and the Hanta breached the surface. She inhaled both water and air at the same time, causing her to sputter and gag.

  But she was alive.

  The Hanta had saved them.

  “Thank you,” she muttered, starting to swim toward the only lights she could see. As she swam, she could feel herself regaining control. “Thank you for your strength, but we have to save my friends. We need to get to those lights and…”