Coven Betrayed (The Silver Legacy Book 4)

by Alex Westmore

  COVEN BETRAYED

  THE SILVER LEGACY, BOOK 4

  ALEX WESTMORE

  CONTENTS

  A Free Book for You

  Coven Betrayed

  More from Alex Westmore

  About the Author

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  © 2017, BROAD WINGED BOOKS

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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  Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination, or the author has used them fictitiously.

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  So you’ve just scored your very own copy of Coven Betrayed. Awesome! Hey, you know what’s even more awesome? I want to give you a present as my way of saying thanks for checking me out. Yes, indeed, I’ve written a free short story just for my newsletter subscribers. You can grab your free copy at www.AlexWestmore.net/Newsletter. Happy travels!

  ALEX

  COVEN BETRAYED

  The second round of bullets ricocheted off street signs with a metallic dinging sound. Bullets number three and four narrowly missed Denny Silver’s head as she rounded the corner and ran into the busy tourist-filled streets of London.

  “In here!” Denny yelled as she grabbed Iris Carter and flung her to the front of the long line at Madam Tussauds Wax Museum. Denny had always loved London and how steeped it was in history.

  The petite young woman she’d grabbed landed in the front of the line. Their adversaries paused, looked at the crowd, then quickly jammed their guns in the waistbands of their jeans. “Do your thing,” Denny said, her eyes glued to the corner of the street where the three thugs stood perusing the crowd.

  It was only a matter of time before they said, “Fuck it,” and continued to come after them.

  If Denny and Iris didn’t get off the street soon, they were doomed. Guys like these never gave up. They would just keep coming and coming.

  “Now, Iris!”

  Nodding, Iris muttered a spell under her breath, and the clerk, who had previously been frowning at her for jumping the line, smiled politely before handing them two entry tickets.

  “Go, go, go!” Denny pushed Iris into the museum.

  Iris thrust her ticket to the admissions clerk and quickly entered—and not a moment too soon.

  The second they got inside, the three assassins pushed past the line.

  Denny and Iris collapsed on a bench near the display of Beyoncé and Einstein. The juxtaposition was humorous if not thought-provoking.

  “Jesus, we can’t keep running like this.” Iris wiped the sweat from her forehead. “I wish there was a spell for athletic ability or endless oxygen, don’t you, DH?”

  Catching her breath, Denny nodded, her eyes fixed to the front of the museum. Iris had been calling her DH since they’d first met. It stood for Demon Hunter—because that’s what Denny Silver was. A demon hunter.

  Not just any demon hunter. Denny—at first a reluctant hunter—was now so used to wearing the blood and guts of those she killed, she had taken to wearing reds and pinks to hide the flesh detritus that flew at her whenever one of them imploded.

  And Iris Carter was her witch.

  Not just any witch, and not a wiccan witch. She was more of a combination who could create poultices and unguents as well as spells at her fingertips. Good spells. Great spells. Iris was becoming a witch of some merit.

  Together, they were a force to be reckoned with in the cracks and spaces where evil roamed.

  Back home in Savannah, Georgia, demons and ghosts alike gave them a wide berth because Golden Silver—Denny’s real name—wasn’t just a demon hunter. She was a Legacy Hunter. She’d only recently inherited the role from her mother, but was, herself, possessed by a demon—an ancient demon who fed off the spirits of those Denny destroyed.

  One minute, she’d been a normal, college student, happy in her C-average life. The next minute, she was possessed by a millennium-old demon which required feeding.

  To feed meant she had to hunt.

  To hunt meant she had to find other possessed souls and rip the demon right out of them. Sometimes the host lived. Sometimes it didn’t. There were bloodstains all over Savannah from those who didn’t.

  But she wasn’t in Savannah, and she wasn’t the one doing the hunting.

  Someone was after them, and had been since they’d first arrived in England. She’d felt it the moment they’d left the airport, and she had learned never to doubt when her demon warned her of imminent danger.

  “If we don’t run, Iris, then we need to turn and fight.”

  Iris, with her pink-tipped pixie haircut and laughing blue eyes, looked up at Denny. “And?” she chuckled. “What else is new? If we’re going to do this, let’s take the first swing.”

  Denny grinned. “I like how you think.”

  Iris rose. “I think it’s time to send a message back to those witch hunters, DH. We’ve been running long enough. It’s high time they felt the sting of our needle.”

  “And what do you think the message should say?” Denny stood up as well. She could feel her demon awaken.

  “Say? It shouldn’t say anything. We should just send a package.”

  Denny looked out the window at the bustling street scene. “A package?”

  Iris joined her at the glass doors. “Not a package...more like a bag.”

  Denny looked at her. “What kind of bag?”

  Iris sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “It’s time for hardball, my little demonic blueberry muffin. We need to send them a very clear, very loud message...and what better way to do it than in a body bag?”

  ONE WEEK EARLIER

  Denny knelt and placed her hand on her mother’s knees. They were cold to the touch, as if she were already dead but just didn’t know it.

  “Hi, Mom. Like my tattoo?”

  Denny turned her face slightly to show a feather tattoo that began above her eyebrow and curved around to her cheek. It had come compliments of a voodoo priestess in the bayou of Louisiana who had “marked” her—ostensibly to keep her safe. Denny could have had it removed, but kept it as a constant reminder to be careful whom she chose to trust.

  That lack of vigilance had nearly cost her her life.

  “Mudder seem upset.”

  Denny glanced up at Princess, her mother’s attendant, standing behind her wheelchair. Princess had been Gwen’s main caregiver for six years now, and the beautiful Asian woman still spoke in broken English.

  Denny could not have cared less if she spoke Martian. She took care of her nearly comatose mother like she was her own flesh and blood.

  “Upset?”

  Princess nodded. “I see from lines on face this morning. Never seen line before.”

  Of course she hadn’t. Gwen Silver had been in a catatonic state for over six years and hadn’t moved or spoken in all that time. A new wrinkle or line on her face was something to pay attention to.

  Denny leaned closer to examine her mother’s face. “Are you sure?”

  Princess nodded. “I no drink. I see
good. Mudder upset. Clear as day.”

  Denny inched closer to her mother and gazed into her unmoving eyes. “Prin, would you mind grabbing me a glass of water?”

  “Be back.”

  When Princess was gone, Denny reached for Gwen’s skeletal hand. She’d lost so much weight over the years. Once a strong, vibrant woman, Gwen Silver was now a bag of bones with skin stretched over them. As if she were waiting to die.

  “What’s going on, Mom? Did you feel something? Did Valeria tell you what happened in Louisiana? Is that what’s bothering you?” Although Denny knew her mother could not reply, she also knew her mother had heard everything Denny had said to her the last six years. From details about her prom to how she’d managed to secure the release of her brother from prison, Denny had shared the highs and lows of her life since she was fifteen to this unblinking, unspeaking woman.

  “Well, let me tell you something that will brighten your day. I re-enrolled at the university. Lauren and Ames convinced me that I would be a better hunter if I had some knowledge of Latin under my belt. So I’m taking Latin, Ancient Civilizations, and Gender Studies. I’ve changed my major to Ancient and Classical Civilizations. Lauren and Victor are thrilled to have me back. Ames said it was about time. He was invaluable in helping us defeat the Dybbuk demons we faced. I won’t lie to you, Mom. We got our asses kicked in the bayou. Between Haitian voodoo priestesses and that goddamned rift, we almost didn’t make it out alive. Almost. But we did, and now, all is well in the Silver world.”

  Squeezing Gwen’s hand, Denny rose. “Valeria told me everything, Mom. Everything. I wish you would have told me––wish you would have trusted me with the truth, but I understand why you didn’t. Just know that I don’t care who you love. She loves you and she loves you well. That’s all that matters to me.”

  Denny kissed Gwen’s warm forehead as she walked up. “And if you were present, you’d say the same thing to me. Not that I love anyone. I mean, I have some options, I suppose, but this hunting business doesn’t really lend itself to the formation of great relationships, ya know?”

  “She love when you come.” Princess handed Denny a glass of water.

  Denny gulped down the entire glass of water and handed it back to her. “I know. I think I gave her some news that will perk her up. If she has any more weird facial wrinkles, Prin, please call me right away.”

  Taking hold of the wheelchair handles, Princess nodded. “Okay, boss. Come on, Gwen. We go outside now.”

  As Princess wheeled Gwen’s frail body away, and Denny made her way to the car, she felt her heart crack just a little more.

  A car accident that claimed the life of her father had left her mother in this sad, alive-but-not-really state. When Gwen had coded the first time in the hospital, the Hanta Raya demon within Gwen had transferred from her body to Denny’s, where it had remained dormant for nearly six years.

  When it came out of hibernation, and inside of Denny, it nearly killed her. Thrust into the dark underbelly of the supernatural world, her inexperience at hunting demons and her utter lack of knowledge about them had almost been her undoing.

  Almost.

  Fortunately, her mother had developed a large support system that lent itself to Denny once they discovered she was a Legacy hunter.

  A Legacy hunter meant the demon was attached to a family lineage. Hers was almost a thousand years old. Ancient, powerful, and hungry for the spirits of other demons––demons she hunted and killed in order to feed his voracious appetite.

  Theirs was a complicated relationship to be sure. She had to constantly wrestle him for control, but once she made it clear she refused to just hand her body over, they made an uneasy alliance. One she was still getting comfortable with.

  Denny parked in front of the huge Victorian and walked up the stairs toward a room she called the lair. She smiled slightly at the thought that her mother had managed to find love in the arms of Valeria, one of the most powerful witches in the world.

  Denny’s sister, Sister Sterling Silver, would choke on her habit if she knew their mother loved another woman, but if she knew she had loved a bona fide witch, that would have sent her to the rosary store for sure. Her other siblings, Pure and Quick, would both think it was cool. Denny just found it sweet.

  “Everything okay at the rest home?”

  Looking up at the steel door leading to her lair, Denny smiled at Rushalyn Holbrook, resident ghost and her former lover. Rush hovered near the door and wore a Savannah Sand Gnats minor league baseball shirt. Denny could only shake her head. The team had been suspended for drug issues awhile back, so she wondered just why Rush had chosen that jersey. “It’s fine. Why do you ask?”

  Rush hovered, nearly transparent, in front of the retinal scanner Lauren had installed for safety. She was wearing a mini-skirt, a necklace in the shape of a huge peace sign, and big silver earrings. “Just a vibration in the spirit world I picked up.” Rush floated to the side so Denny could have her eye scanned.

  “Princess said she was agitated about something.”

  “How could she tell?”

  “Frown line. Do you think you felt something from my mom?”

  Rush shrugged. “From her. From you. From the spirit world. But if she was frowning, that can’t be good. Are you going to contact Valeria?”

  The metal door whooshed open to reveal a ten-foot by ten-foot library with a huge roll-top desk in the center.

  “Valeria made it very clear that she comes when she comes. If anything was seriously wrong, she’d be here in a nano.”

  Rush frowned. “Nano? Like Nanu Nanu from Mork and Mindy?”

  Denny sighed. “If you don’t start watching something educational instead of TV Land, I’m turning it off.”

  “You change that station to BBC or the History Channel and me and my ghost posse will make you rule the day.”

  Sitting down at her desk, Denny shook her head. “It’s rue, and I won’t.”

  Rush sat on the roll top. “Roux? That’s how much you know, Ms. Smarty Pants. Roux is broth. How was school?”

  “Good. Fine. Okay, I suppose.”

  Rush crossed her arms. “Well, which was it?”

  Denny ran her hands through her short brown hair. “There’s so much mundane bullshit in school. I don’t know why we have to learn any of it. What a waste of time.”

  “What did you expect? Demonology one-oh-one? You heard Lauren—Latin and History. History and Latin. I won’t let you quit this time, love. You need to keep one foot in the real world whether it’s mundane or not. Period. End of story. Don’t make me pull out my ghost ju-hitso.”

  “It’s…” she smiled. “Never mind.” Denny opened the large black book she called the Kill Book. Legacy hunters would take blood from their victims, mix their own blood, and then use it as ink to write in the Kill Book. Legacies all across the world could then read about these kills in their own books in the event they ever faced a similar demon. It was as innovative as it was gross.

  “It’s important stuff, love.”

  “I know, I know. It’s just that I have so much to learn about all of this—” She spread out her arms to indicate the three thousand-plus books in her lair. “That it’s hard to care about a dead language and the dead people who spoke it.”

  Rush fiddled with her hair. “Too bad, baby. It will be good for you to get out with people your own age.”

  “You’re my own age.”

  “I’m twenty-six and dead. I have become ageless. You, not so much.” Rush stared at Denny’s face.

  “What?”

  “That tattoo is super sexy. You are smoking hot. I can’t believe it hasn’t gotten you laid yet. Are you done playing around with Cassandra and ready for a real relationship? Have you asked Brianna out?”

  “Not yet.”

  Rush made a chuffing sound. “You encounter the greatest evils on the planet, but face a date with one witch and turn into Jell-O. What is wrong with that picture?”

  “I so do not t
urn—”

  “You like her. Why are you so afraid of admitting that to yourself?”

  Denny stared at the page in front of her detailing her latest kill. “Bringing people into my life right now just feels risky.”

  “Oh, horse manure. The entire coven is part of your life now. You’re just afraid of getting your heart hurt. Stabbed in the side? No problem. Kicked in the teeth? You got this. But a little potential pain to your heart and you run for the door like a little bitch.”

  Denny stared at her. “Seriously?”

  “You’re an emotional coward, my friend.”

  Denny ignored this. “Well, save the platitudes, Rush. Going slow is the best I can do.”

  “Well, there’s slow and then there’s immobile. Be certain which is which. I have to go. There’s an All in the Family marathon over at Gracy’s.”

  “Enjoy yourself.”

  Rush started to fade. “What about you? What are your plans?”

  “Got word of a new demon scaring kids at the playground. Gonna go check it out.”

  “In the daytime?”

  “Yeah. Demons are getting dumber every day.” Denny closed the book. “Do me a favor and keep your eyes on whatever vibe you picked up. I have a feeling whatever was happening to my mom was more than just gas.”

  “Will do. I’ll spread the word. You know we ghosts have a pretty decent collective here. If anything hinky is going down, we’re on it.”

  “Hinky?”

  “That’s what they say on T.J. Hooker when a case goes—”

  “I know what it means. I just can’t believe—” Denny shook her head. “Never mind. Have fun.”

  When Rush was gone, Denny opened her laptop and downloaded all of the E-books for her courses. After that, she tried to read her Latin book, but something kept niggling at the base of her skull.

  That something wanted to be fed.

  “Fine,” she said, closing the lid. “Let’s go.”