Blood of the Demon (The Silver Legacy Book 3)

by Alex Westmore

  “Oh no, no, no. You do not get to blame this on your demon. Uh-uh. Take responsibility for your actions, Denny. The Hanta may have broken her wrists, but you aren’t a bystander in any of this. You made the decision to go to Ray’s house.”

  Denny stood taller, and as she did, Rush shook her head once more and disappeared. “Yes I did, and I still think she deserved it.”

  Brianna groaned. “Jesus, Denny, you are not judge, jury and executioner. Maybe in the darkest corners of the cemeteries you hang out in, but in the real world, those roles are reserved to other people.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Bri. If it’s evil, I am, in fact, all of the above, and what your little Deputy Dog did was wrong. Bad. Evil. So I took care of it.”

  “Maybe so, but that still wasn’t your call to make. I’m not your witch. You do not get to run to my aid every time you think someone has done me wrong.”

  Denny glanced over at the empty spot vacated by Rush “You don’t have to be my witch to...” she faltered. “To...”

  “To what?”

  Denny shook her head, her train of thought having derailed. “Never mind.”

  Brianna was within inches of Denny face. “Finish. To what?”

  “To be...protected by me. I care about you, Brianna. Did it ever occur to you that this is my way of showing it?”

  The two women glared at each other, the ticking of the grandfather clock the only sound in the room. Rush silently reappeared like a mist blown by a fan. She bumped her fists together and then was gone.

  Tick. Tock.

  Tick. Tock.

  Tick. Tock.

  Without a word, their lips pushed through the tension, meeting halfway in the explosion of passion that had been held inside like steam in a teapot. Mouth on mouth, tongue against tongue, their hands tore at each other’s clothes that fell away like the peel of a banana. As if by magic.

  Denny wrapped her arms around Brianna, who eased them to the couch, her hands pulling Denny into her, her long leg threading Denny’s leg and pinning her closer.

  Climbing on top of Brianna, Denny’s mouth never left hers. As the kiss deepened, their tongues danced in synchronicity, their bodies melting together. Denny felt their heat filling the space between them...what little space there was, and she reveled in it.

  Denny’s hands read Brianna’s body like a blind women reading Braille—her fingers skipping lightly over Brianna’s soft skin, her memory of her body returning to her.

  Their hearts beat rapidly, two drums beating out the same time; they kissed like two lovers who had known each other a thousand lifetimes, who had made love in a thousand places. In this moment, there was no time, no space, just the two of them devouring each other in a heated passion that knew no rules, no boundaries, nothing but the intensity of their longing.

  Denny finally released Brianna’s tongue and kissed down her neck, biting it gently as she slowly entered her with two fingers. Brianna’s wetness made Denny’s body react in kind.

  Her fingers deep inside Brianna, Denny swirled her tongue around Brianna’s erect nipple before taking it in her mouth, her tongue flicking across the hardened nib.

  Brianna grabbed a handful of Denny’s hair and puller her closer, her hips rising to meet Denny’s expertly stroking fingers that touched her as if she’d caressed her forever and a day.

  It had felt like forever and a day since Denny had felt so...human.

  Sucking Brianna’s nipple, Denny wanted to bite into Brianna’s tender flesh, eating her like an apple.

  The Hanta.

  Her Hanta Raya loved sex. No, it enjoyed fucking. That was not what this was.

  Denny had fucked Cassandra plenty of times, each time, the Hanta’s urgency adding to Denny’s own wants and desires. She could feel its arousal as her own grew stronger, her desire more powerful––hotter.

  “Jesus Christ, Denny.” Brianna purred, clutching Denny to her.

  Curling her fingers over and over, Denny nibbled her way back up to Brianna’s ear and whispered in a voice more Hanta than Denny, “Touch yourself.”

  Brianna did as Denny bade, her fingers sliding down her abdomen and to her soft wetness. Her back arched as she parted her lips.

  Denny returned to Brianna’s heavy breasts and sucked greedily on both her nipples, her fingers still inside Brianna, stroking and teasing, pulling Brianna’s orgasm closer to the surface.

  The Hanta wanted more.

  Denny gave Brianna all of her tongue, burying both her tongue and her fingers deeper into Brianna’s soft, wet warmth, both gently and aggressively; Denny’s passion barely kept in check as the demon inside her wanted to possess, to own, to take Brianna hard.

  Denny barely managed to maintain a grip on her lust as she drove her fingers over and over into Brianna’s wetness.

  “Don’t...stop...” Brianna gasped, arching her back higher and pushing her hips down onto Denny hand. “Yessss. Goddess, yessss.”

  Sensing Brianna’s moment of climax, Denny drove into her, her own engorged clit rubbing against Brianna’s leg as she took her to heights Denny was certain she’d never experienced.

  Flying high on the wings of demon lust, pulling Brianna’s orgasm from her, Denny exploded in her own climax that shook her body, lifting her off Brianna’s body for a brief moment as wave upon wave rolled through her like a hard surf pounding at the shore.

  As Denny reconnected with Brianna, their hearts kept time, their chests heaving in and out reaching for air.

  As they lay entwined in each other and experiencing the last throbs of extended orgasms, Brianna ran her fingers through Denny’s hair and whispered, “Was that you or your demon?”

  Without moving, Denny whispered back “A little of both, but far more of me. Why?”

  A protracted minute went by before Brianna sighed, her fingers stroking Denny’s hair, “Impressive.”

  “What, me or the demon?”

  Brianna chuckled. “A little of both.”

  Denny closed her eyes and rested her weary head on Brianna’s shoulder where she fell fast asleep.

  ***

  “Told you she liked you,” Rush said as Denny was slipping her clothes back on. “That witch has had a thing for you since Day One.” Rush hovered near the fireplace as Denny pulled her boots back on. “You could cut it with a knife in here.”

  “You didn’t...you weren’t—”

  “Watching? Hell no. Yuck. Eww. Gross. No, but she rattled the walls with that witch energy during her happy ending.”

  Denny chuckled. “Happy ending? Where do you get this stuff?”

  “May Ling’s ghost hangs out at the massage parlor. Trust me. This was a happy ending.”

  Denny grabbed her vest, phone and key and waited by the front door for Brianna to exit the hall bathroom.

  When she came out, her clothes were back on but her hair had that I-have-just-been-laid look about it.

  “Bri––”

  “Hush. Just hush. Look, that shouldn’t have happened. As great as it was—”

  “And it was great.”

  Brianna shook her head. “As great as it was, this did not happen.” Brianna stared hard into Denny’s face. “Cassandra must never find out.”

  “Cassandra? This wasn’t about her.”

  “Maybe not, but it will be if she finds out. She’s rather possessive of her bedmates, you know...she doesn’t like to share.”

  “Share? What a minute here. I think you misunderstand––”

  “Oh, I understand way more than you realize, Denny. Pissing Cassandra off is a bad idea. A very bad idea. Just like what happened in there was a bad idea. Do us both a favor and forget it. I mean it, Denny. Neither of us want to land on her bad side. It was fun, it was spontaneous, but it means nothing. Ever. Accept that.”

  As Brianna headed outside and down the stairs, Denny called out to her. “You might forget, Brianna, but I won’t, I never will. I don’t give a shit if it makes Cassandra angry. I’m not afraid of her.”
/>
  Brianna stopped at the bottom step. “And that is a huge mistake. Do whatever you need to do around this Den, but please bear in mind, I have to live with her and she could make my life very difficult. Very.”

  Denny watched Brianna get in her yellow VW Bug and drive away.

  “Hers isn’t the only life that witch would make difficult, baby. Listen to Brianna. Keep this quiet for now or you could blow this whole thing.”

  Denny turned back into the house. “Whole thing? What whole thing? There’s no whole thing Rush. You’re wrong about Brianna wanting me.”

  “Coulda fooled me. She pretty much just tore your clothes off, jammed her tongue down your throat, and had an orgasm that registered seven-point-five on the Richter Scale.”

  Denny glared at her. “Thought you weren’t looking?”

  Rush faded slightly. “I told you. I didn’t have to see with my eyes. Her energy was palpable. You believe whatever you want to believe, but you need to play this close to your chest. Cassandra is not a witch you want angry with you. I gotta go.”

  “Go? Where?”

  Rush smiled. “You’re not the only one with a social life. Be smart Denny. Protect her. Do as she asked, and protect her.” With that, Rush was gone.

  Standing in the dining room, Denny lightly touched her lips. Sex with Cassandra was always good, always hot, always satisfying, but this...this was something way different. Way better. Way more personal.

  This was the kind of sex you dream about.

  Heading back up to the lair, Denny had two things on her mind: finding Valeria, and how tasty Brianna’s skin was.

  She would have to have her again, Cassandra be damned.

  And no, that wasn’t the Hanta’s wish. That was all Golden Silver.

  ***

  Denny stood over the Black Book and read Peyton’s entry out loud.

  It’s not looking so good. I’ve managed to contain these demons, but even with help, I took a hit and I don’t think

  “Don’t think what?” Denny said as she waited for the rest to appear.

  One minute.

  Five minutes.

  Twenty-five minutes, and her eyes never left the page.

  The end never came.

  “Come on, Peyton. What happened? What is it you think? Why can’t you finish the entry?”

  The Black Book, or Kill Book as Denny often called it, was a supernatural phenomenon Denny barely understood herself. When any legacy hunter logged about a kill in order to share info with other legacies, they did so using their own blood and that of the demon they killed. There was a special quill pen used to script the event, and as the hunter detailed the experience, the blood would appear in the Kill Books of all the other legacies around the world.

  It was Denny’s least favorite part of the hunt, but it was necessary for them to exchange knowledge.

  Only now, they weren’t exchanging knowledge. Now, Denny was wondering if Peyton was in trouble.

  An hour later, Denny arrived on Ames’s porch.

  “Something happened to Peyton.” Denny did not enter the house, but stood on the dilapidated porch. “I think he’s in trouble. There appears to be—”

  “Whoa Goldy. Slow down. Slow way, way down. Your job is to hunt demons, not run about saving other hunters from—”

  “Who says?”

  Ames stopped speaking.

  “Who says I shouldn’t be concerned about other legacy hunters? Is there a god damned rulebook or manual somewhere? Who the fuck has the right to tell me whether or not I go help someone who is as cursed as I am?”

  “Well...no one, I suppose.”

  “You suppose? Right. Look, Peyton has been a killing machine for the last four months or so...like he’s overrun with them. All of a sudden his writing is shaky and he doesn’t finish the sentence? He might be hurt.”

  “Thinking and knowing are two different things Goldy.”

  “Can you find anything out for me? Surely you must have some connec—”

  “No way. NOLA is way out of your league, Goldy. There’s more than just demons and witches there. There’s Voodoo and magic darker than anything you’ve faced.”

  Denny stared at him.

  “I mean it, Goldy. You’d be out of your element there. Fish out of water and all that. Nothing but trouble can come from going there.” He locked eyes with Denny. “You’re not hearing a word I’ve said.”

  “Ames, there aren’t many others who can understand what it’s like to have a demon inside you that feeds off the souls of other demons. We’re in an elite club, as it were. I’m not going to stand by and do nothing.”

  “You’re wrong on that score, kiddo. Other legacies know their jobs are extinguishing demons, not running off half-cocked to play super sleuth.”

  Denny stood with her arms akimbo.

  Ames studied her a moment. “I can see you won’t be dissuaded. Let me make a few calls.”

  “Thank you.”

  When Denny didn’t move, Ames shook his head. “You want me to call now?”

  Denny merely raised her eyebrows.

  “Fine. I’ll call. You go downstairs and train. It’s been a while since you and Fouet have worked out. I’ll come down after I call in some markers.”

  Five minutes later, Denny was down in an enormous white basement crackling Fouet at five stands holding apples.

  With every crack of the electric whip, an apple was cut in half. Denny perspired the more she got into it. Fouet was the more difficult of the two weapons to control; its whip resembled a chainsaw with teeth that cut through demons like a surgical blade. Her left eyebrow bore the scar from when Fouet bit back, as whips will do.

  Epée was far easier to handle but had less reach. It had a slightly curved blade like a katana and glowed with the same bluish light as Fouet. Both had been passed down from her mother, who had inherited them from her mother, and so on for nearly a thousand years.

  The Silver Legacy was old and deep, and Denny had merely scratched the surface of what it all meant.

  “Nice work,” Ames said, handing Denny a piece of paper with a name and number. “You’re getting really good with Fouet. Almost as good as your mother was.”

  Wiping her sweaty face with the bottom of her shirt, Denny took the paper but did not look at it. “She was good?”

  “No, Goldy, she was great. She could snap a head from a neck at fifteen feet. Your mother had mad skills for a soccer mom.”

  Denny look down at the paper. “What’s this?”

  “My contacts couldn’t tell me much except there’s been an influx of demons in NOLA and that rumor has it, no one has any idea where they came from.”

  Denny retracted Fouet into the cylinder and slid it into her vest pocket. “I had a feeling that’s what was happening. Damn it. What about Peyton? Any word?”

  Ames shook his head. “Nothing. There’s another hunter in NOLA though. Not a legacy of course, but I think he can help. I left a message.”

  “Is this the name?”

  “Yes. That’s my supernatural contact who is well versed in all things arcane, ancient, or paranormal. He’ll be able to assist you with locating Peyton. Just know that Peyton might not be quite what you’re expecting.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning just how it sounds. Every hunter has their own story to tell, and I’ll not tell you Peyton’s. You want to know, that’s on you.”

  Pocketing the slip of paper, Denny nodded. “I really appreciate this.”

  “It goes against my better judgment, Goldy, but I can tell by that look in your eyes that you’re going regardless of what I say.” Then he muttered under his breath. “So like your mother.”

  “Speaking of which—”

  “I know, I know. I’ve already put feelers out for Big V, but like I said before, she’ll be found only if she chooses.” Turning out the lights, Ames started back up the stairs. “Be sure to take Saugen with you. Stay away from cemeteries, don’t get sucked into all of those faux palm a
nd tarot readers, and—”

  “Ames, take a breath. Relax, You’re not sending me off to war. I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Goldy. You are willingly walking into someone else’s battle grounds. Those demons in NOLA are older, wiser, and from some reason, appear to be collecting others. You see to Peyton and then get back home, you hear?”

  Denny nodded and followed him into the kitchen. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a little afraid for me.”

  Ames took Denny by the shoulders, his light blue eyes piercing hers. “You’re still wet behind the ears. I don’t like pinch-hitting a rookie in such a big game, and there is no bigger game in this country than in New Orleans. It’s unwise and dangerous, but I know you’d go with or without my blessing.”

  “Like my mother did?”

  Ames eyes softened. “Exactly.”

  ***

  When Denny pulled up to her house, Rush appeared in the passenger seat. “Buckle up baby, your other witch has arrived, and she’s none too happy. I’m pretty sure she flew in on a broom.”

  “Cassandra’s here?”

  “Oh yes. And please don’t ask me how she got in. She’s a witch for Christ’s sake. A really pissed off one too. She started yelling at me even though I hadn’t even appeared. She knew I was there, so I am-scrayed from the house-sayed.”

  Denny smiled over at Rush. “Did she say anything to you?”

  “You mean after her tirade? Oh, hell no. She isn’t in the talking mood. She yelled. She cursed. She threatened. Then I beat a hasty retreat before she could cast some sort of spell and pull me into her witch’s web. Good luck with her, baby.” Rush didn’t immediately leave.

  “What?”

  She tapped her index finger on her lips. “I’m just trying to decide if I told you so is in order.”

  “When you’re right, you’re right. Go ahead.”

  Rush smiled as she faded some “Nah. You’re gonna get your chops busted by her. I’ll save it for later.” And she was gone.

  When Denny entered the house, she found Cassandra in front of the fireplace wearing her long, hooded black robe. Denny had only seen her wearing this twice before, both times were for special rituals.