Blood of the Demon (The Silver Legacy Book 3)

by Alex Westmore

  “Then why didn’t she? Why won’t she?”

  Valeria pulled a hand free to wipe Denny’s tears. “Why do you think your mother would choose oblivion instead of coming home to her family?”

  “To protect us from something. Is that it? She’s protecting us?”

  Valeria blinked. Two tears rolled down her cheeks. “Yes. As long as she appears harmless, non-threatening, you’re all safe. Well...safer.” Valeria wiped her own tears. “From them.”

  “Who? Safer from who? How could staying in a catatonic state be safer for us? What, exactly, is she protecting us from?”

  Valeria swallowed audibly, her eyes registering deep sadness. “I swore to her I would never tell you. She knew if I did, you would seek them out and, one by one, destroy them...and in the process...destroy yourself. She would do anything to prevent that.”

  Denny spoke through a clenched jaw. “Tell me. Who is she so afraid of?”

  Valeria held her head in her hands, the weight of years of secrets finally weighing too heavily on her. “I...I can’t.”

  Denny felt the Hanta stir. “Them. Who. Are. They?”

  “Calm yourself, Golden. Your demon has no play here.”

  Inhaling a deep breath, Denny settled the Hanta. “Okay. Okay. Who is it Mom is so afraid of that she would leave us to raise ourselves?”

  Valeria looked at the moon a moment, her lips moving slightly as if in prayer. She turned back to Denny, paused a moment, and finally said, “Your father’s family.”

  Before Denny could respond, Valeria tilted her head as if listening for something. “Peyton is awake.”

  “Wait a second. You can’t just leave me hanging.”

  “For the time being, yes. Peyton is more important right now. I’m sorry.”

  They both hurried inside the house to the second level Master bedroom where Peyton lay in the overstuffed queen-size bed in a room that had just stepped out of the nineteenth century.

  Iris sat next to Peyton, holding her hand. “She’s coming to,” Iris whispered, more to Valeria than to Denny. “She’s weak, but...can you feel it?”

  Peyton stirred, groaned, and bobbed her head.

  “Welcome back, Hunter.”

  Peyton opened her one good eye, a grin appearing on only one side of her mouth. “Oh hell. Must be...pretty bad...for you to have come. You...hate this city.”

  Valeria stroked Peyton’s hair. “Hush. You are still very weak.”

  “Weak? Feels like I’ve been...run over by a Mac truck. Am I...okay?”

  “Okay is a relative term. You are alive and that didn’t seem possible twenty-four hours ago.”

  Peyton suddenly stiffened. “Who else is here? You brought—” She struggled to sit up.

  Valeria placed her hand on Peyton’s chest. “Easy. You are safe. I...we needed help. I was losing you.”

  Peyton focused her gaze in Denny’s direction. “You brought in another...another...”

  “Another legacy hunter? Yes. Well, I didn’t bring her as much as she showed up unannounced. And not a moment too soon, I might add.”

  Peyton struggled to sit up again, but Valeria held her to the bed with a wave of her hand. “Rest, Hunter. You are not yet out of the woods.”

  Peyton lay back on the pillow looking more like a nymph than an adult, and Denny marveled once more at such a tiny stature for such a big hunter.

  “Come introduce yourself,” Peyton said, her one good eye scanning the room.

  Denny and Iris walked over to the bed, and before they could say a word, Peyton groaned. “Are you fucking kidding me, V? You place my city in the hands of this rookie?”

  Denny rocked back a step. “This ‘rookie’ saved your ass,” Denny said, her hand suddenly touching Iris’s. “You got your ass handed to you on a tarnished silver platter, Peyton. Why? What happened?”

  Peyton turned her head so she could see Valeria. “It’s Vodouisants. They are involved here and I don’t even think it was on purpose.”

  Iris let go of Denny’s hand and started from the room. “You two fill her in. I’m going to make us all some dinner. Play well with each other.”

  “Iris?”

  She stopped and turned.

  “No bread,” Denny said.

  Iris nodded back and continued on her way.

  “How do you know it’s Vodouisants?” Valeria asked.

  “One of the last things I heard before I killed one of them was Haitian. All the other lower levels were speaking Latin.”

  “Describe the Haitian speaker,” Denny said.

  “Look, Rook, I appreciate you coming here and all, but once I’m on my feet—” Peyton grimaced in pain.

  “Internal injuries and a couple of broken ribs, Hunter. You’re not likely to join the fray anytime soon, even with Iris’s help.”

  “So stop being an ass and give us something to go on besides rumor and speculation. There’s a Dybbuk in town. Were you aware of that?”

  Peyton eased her head back on the pillow, pain etched across her face. “You’ve seen it?”

  “Oh yeah. I’m thinking it might be the demon who was summoned by those...what did you call them?”

  Peyton sighed the sigh of a frustrated parent. “Vodouisants. Rookie. Jesus, why are you even here?”

  Denny gritted her teeth. “To help save your sorry ass from the Dybbuk.”

  “Dybbuks are shit.” A heavy sign escaped Peyton’s lips. “They...suck.”

  “That’s enough for now. You need not tax your strength.” Valeria said. “Golden, please assist Iris with dinner.”

  “But—”

  “I asked nicely.”

  Denny locked eyes with her. The Hanta backed down. So did Denny. “Will do.”

  As Denny started out of the room, she turned back to Peyton. “Oh, and you’re welcome.” With that, she headed downstairs to the kitchen.

  “What an ungrateful little—”

  “Stop right there,” Iris commanded, “and pull yourself together. She’s been through hell. She’s lost some battles, and her pride is hurt that another hunter has had to step in to help. Don’t expect her to be on her best manners.”

  “Hell schmel. Any manners would be an improvement. What a bitch.”

  Iris jammed her hands on her hips. “I mean it, DH. Cut her some slack. Oh, and that’s the last time I’ll hear you refer to another woman as a bitch. It’s bad enough when men do it.”

  “Fine. I’ll cut her some slack, little feminist, but that rookie bullshit has to stop. She doesn’t know me from Adam.”

  “I agree. Just give her a few moments to catch her breath. Surely you can do that.”

  “Maybe.” Denny stared at the spaghetti boiling in water. “Seriously? You can cook?”

  “Of course I can cook. I’m a witch. I have a huge cauldron in the back of my car.”

  Denny stared at her.

  “I’m just messing with you. Look, you seldom eat. You need to treat your body better than you do.”

  “I eat.”

  Iris shook her head. “Not often and not well. Sit.”

  Denny hesitated a moment before sitting down at the four person table off the kitchen. It sat in a little alcove she was certain was not built back when the plantation existed. “You’re awfully bossy. And why does everyone keep calling you my witch?”

  Iris slid a bowl of salad over to her. “Maybe because I should be?”

  Denny gazed down at the salad. “We’re the blind leading the blind to listen to Peyton.”

  Iris handed her a fork. “I have no intention of listening to her or anyone else, DH. We may be green, but I’m betting we could be very powerful together.”

  Denny took the fork and poked at the salad. “I’m pretty sure Cassandra would have something to say about that...among other things.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure she’s not going to be very happy to lose you to Bri and me to you.”

  Denny’s fork paused in mid-air.

  Iris poured spaghetti onto a plate and h
anded it to her. “I’ve seen how you look at her. You’ve got it bad. You two have just been victims of bad timing. Well, now, you’re both free. You think Cassandra is just going to step aside and let that happen? I hardly think so. That woman is as possessive as they come.”

  “She acts like anything but.”

  Iris handed Denny a glass of tea. “You don’t really know women very well, do you?”

  Denny focused on twirling the spaghetti on her fork. “Given the fact that my lover for the last few years has been a ghost, no, Iris, I suppose I don’t.”

  “Well then, that’s the problem. Cassandra sees possessiveness as a weakness, and she doesn’t want to appear weak so she passes it off as indifference. Trust me. She won’t lose you without a fight.”

  “Lose me? When did she have me?”

  Iris shook her head and made a tsking sound. “Can you be that dim? She loves you. Probably more than she’s willing to admit to herself.”

  “Loves is a pretty strong word, little witch.”

  “Tell me this. How often has she been prepared to fight by your side?” Iris stood with arms akimbo facing Denny. “More than once, I would imagine. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”

  Denny inhaled the spaghetti aroma. “I don’t think so, Iris. I think Cassandra just doesn’t like sharing her toys and I don’t like being considered one.”

  Iris ladled spaghetti onto two plates and started toward the stairs. “You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.”

  Denny watched her walk up the stairs before staring back down at her spaghetti. Her mother used to make great spaghetti. Those rare moments when they had family dinners were some of Denny’s fondest memories.

  But they had been very rare, and when she became a teenager, they seldom ate together. Come to think of it, when they did, her father seldom spoke to her mother.

  Why was Valeria trying to protect Gwen from her father’s family, and why on earth would his family be foolish enough to take on the likes of her mother?

  Denny promised herself she was going to find out.

  ***

  Peyton looked much better the next morning when Iris and Denny carried up two breakfast trays. The night had passed peacefully where they were, but the evening news was filled with

  crime sprees across the state.

  The demons were getting stronger, busier, and more violent.

  “Good morning,” Valeria said, taking the tray from Denny and laying in on Peyton’s lap. “You’re up early.”

  “I had any early morning phone call from Jocasta.”

  Peyton perked up. “You heard from Jo? She can’t stand me.”

  “Maybe it’s your warm, charming personality. Or maybe this rookie threatened to turn her inside out if she didn’t cough up some information. Regardless, she said there were a bunch of Vodouisants kids living on the river and she heard they thought it would be fun to call a demon, so they did. Not sure if these kids are our folks, but if they did call a demon, they got more than they bargained for. Way more.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Denny cut her eyes over to Iris, who barely shook her head. “Jocasta believes these teens inadvertently opened the rift the demons are flowing through and they don’t know how to close it.”

  Peyton cut her eyes to over to Valeria.

  “Jocasta thinks the boys are from the Haitian Village on the river. Where’s that?”

  Peyton blew out a breath. “Fuck. She couldn’t have been more inexact if she’d tried. The Haitian Village isn’t a place so much as it is a region near, on, in, and around a particular area of the swamp.”

  “Well, it’s a start, at least.”

  “No, Rookie, it’s not. The Vodouisants won’t let us get within two miles of that area, and if they’re protecting their own, no matter how egregious their activities, we will sure as shit be biting off more than we can chew.”

  Valeria cleared her throat. “First off, Hunter, there is no we. You are in no condition to hunt, so consider yourself sidelined. Secondly, the Vodouisants know you. They do not know Golden Silver. She might be able to slip in unnoticed.”

  Peyton chuckled and then immediately regretted doing so as she held her sides. “V, she’s been stumbling all over NOLA. Of course they know who she is.”

  Valeria shook her head. “Not out there they don’t. Clearly whatever Golden said to Jocasta put enough fear in her to come up with the information requested. Surely you don’t discount that?”

  Peyton pushed her scrambled eggs around on the plate. “They will kill her the moment they see her. It’s too dangerous, V. I say find another way.”

  Denny and Iris exchanged silent glances.

  Valeria addressed Denny and Iris. “To close a demonic source opened by someone else, you have to get close enough to it to be able to perform a closing ritual. The problem with that is there are demons coming out of it and it is not witch magic. I cannot close a rift opened with Voodoo magic.”

  “Is there another way?”

  Valeria sighed. “Yes, but that involves throwing the person or people responsible into the void. If I understand it correctly, the rift would close like a star collapsing on itself, but again that would be a rift opened by Wiccan magic.”

  “Whoa, wait a second here,” Denny replied. “You’re saying we have to kill those kids?”

  Peyton nodded. “When they performed the spell to call out the Dybbuk, they probably opened a source they obviously can’t close. Can’t or won’t. It’s all the same. They probably can’t do it now because with every demon that passes through it, the source gets stronger. Feeding it the very energy that created it might close the rift, but like V said, that’s Wiccan magic. It could be an entirely different animal since it’s Voodoo.”

  “I have a call into a local coven to get more information on the closing of a rift that was not created by Wiccan magic.” Valeria glanced down at her phone. “They’ll get back to me shortly.”

  “It’s possible killing them is also the way for the Vodouisants. It would certainly be easier than trying to perform a ritual surrounded by demons.”

  Denny slowly shook her head. “Jesus, you two, how can you talk so casually about killing other humans?”

  “It doesn’t matter a cold shit to me that the Vodouisants are human. It was their choice to summon a demon, and the city of New Orleans is gonna pay the price until we close the source. The needs of the many, Rookie. Demon Hunting 101.” Peyton pushed her tray aside and addressed Valeria. “I told you she was too soft for the job. Help me get dressed and—”

  “Sit back, Hunter,” Valeria ordered before setting the tray back on Peyton’s lap. “While it is true Denny is a new hunter, her demon is not. We can ill afford to alienate her simply because you don’t believe she is up to the job.”

  Denny stepped closer to the bed. “If the job, Valeria, is to kill humans—kids—then I’m out. I didn’t sign up for that. Peyton is right. I am too soft to be a murderer.” Denny took her tray and started for the door. “And I’m okay with that.”

  Denny descended the stairs and set her tray on the kitchen counter, Iris joining her.

  “Come take a walk with me, DH.” Iris exited through the back door guarded by two beefy security guards wearing black t-shirts with white lettering that read EVENT SECURITY.

  They walked in silence for the first few minutes. The sun barely peeked over trees and the hum of cicadas had yet to begin.

  “Killing humans isn’t what I signed up for,” Denny said softly.

  “I know.”

  “Even if I could, getting into the village and out alive would be nearly impossible.”

  “Well now, that’s debatable. There are ways to get in and out undetected.”

  “And then what? We kill those kids in the hope that closes the rift? That’s insane.”

  “It’s okay if you walk away, DH. Really. You came to make sure Peyton was okay, right? Well she is. You can go home now.”

&nb
sp; “Can I? You saw how slowly she is moving. It could take her days to get back on her feet. In the meantime, NOLA and the surrounding cities will flood with demons. Who is going to stop that? It’s only a matter of time before they head to our home. What then?”

  “We’ll think of something,” Iris said softly. “I have faith in you.”

  Denny smiled softly. “You know, for the past six months, I’ve followed Peyton’s activities as a legacy hunter, admiring her work and her dedication, never really knowing what an ass clown she really is.”

  “Don’t judge her too harshly. From what I understand, there are reasons—sad reasons—behind her reclusiveness.”

  Denny stopped walking. The towering oaks cast elongated shadows across the worn road. “I’ve heard a tale or two. What has your side heard?”

  “Two lovers, a witch, and a best friend murdered by demons early on in her career.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah. One brother paralyzed from the waist down and the utter destruction of two family homes. It has not been an easy life for her. She is bitter for a reason.” Iris took Denny’s hand and continued walking.

  “Early on? She looks all of twelve. How old is she?”

  “Thirty-four. Started even younger than you with virtually no training.”

  “And you know all this because...”

  “Because, Valeria has taken Peyton under her wing, and she wanted me to understand why she has such sharp edges. You had those same edges when we first met, remember? You could very well have suffered some of the same losses as she did, but you didn’t. Why didn’t you? You had help. You have people you trust, people who love you. Peyton has nothing.”

  “Maybe if she wasn’t such a hard-ass, people would want to help her. You’ve heard her. She would be judge, jury, and executioner over those kids.”

  “I imagine it would be easy for a hunter to lose his or her humanity, DH. It’s the reason you all need a witch. We maintain a balance. We keep the hunter connected to the natural world when the supernatural one threatens to take over.”

  “Did Valeria say how she lost a witch?”

  “Just that Peyton got arrogant. Cocky. She made a wrong decision and it cost her a witch’s life. They weren’t bonded or anything. I think they were just friends. But the witches blamed Peyton for her death. That was when she slowly became reclusive. She really has nobody, DH. I find that terribly sad.”