Coven Betrayed (The Silver Legacy Book 4)

by Alex Westmore

  Denny stood behind a large statue of a deer stag and his family, changing colors from the weather. Trees surrounded the outer reaches of the area around the statue. “They’re here.” Denny pulled out Fouet.

  Cassandra muttered several spells in Latin and two in French. Every single person hanging around the area grabbed their things and left the park.

  “Well done. You’re amazing.”

  “That’s what they say.”

  They exchanged glances.

  “Ready?” Denny asked, suddenly fearful of all she had to lose.

  “See you on the other side, lover. Stay safe.”

  The trees lining the west side of the park shook slightly as the demons and witchers took cover behind them.

  “Where are your buddies? The folks you called?”

  “No idea. Do we wait for them to attack, or what? These battled are your bailiwick.”

  Denny flicked her wrist and opened Fouet, which sputtered to an electrified life. “Can you give me some invisibility to get to the tree line?”

  “Child’s play.” Cassandra muttered another spell. “You’re just going to walk to the tree line?”

  “No. I’m going to sprint to it and cut down the demons first. You take out whatever witchers you can.”

  “The witches will cast spells of their own, and I am unsure if I can fend them off if they are different spells.”

  “Do what you can do, Cass. I’ll handle the rest.”

  Cassandra kissed Denny’s lips softly. “Come back to me.”

  “Always.”

  Sprinting to the tree line with Fouet flying over her head like a lasso, Denny killed the first three who stepped out. One had a sidearm and fired off a round that hit the deer statue.

  Denny realized, too late, that he was shooting at Cassandra.

  “Oh, hell no,” Denny said, taking his arm off. The gun clattered to the ground, and Denny swooped down, stuffed the gun in her pants, then killed the shooter.

  “You must be insane if you think you can beat us all,” one of the higher-level demons said as he broke the tree line, a rifle pointed directly at Denny.

  “I’ll kill you all and never look back. You can’t have my witch. You can’t have any witches.” Denny propelled herself up to a large tree branch.

  “Of course we can. Can and will. You cannot possibly expect to beat an entire continent of demons and witchers with just five Americans?” He shook his head. “So arrogant. So typical.” He got off a shot, bur Denny had already leapt to the next branch.

  “Goddamn, if you’re going to shoot me, shoot me, but please shut the fuck up.”

  The demon lowered the rifle. “Killing you would be a waste. Your witch will come to heel to protect you.”

  “My witch? Is over there.” Denny landed on the ground in back of him and whipped Fouet around.

  “Not her. The young one. Where is the seventh?”

  “Not here. You fuckers bore her.”

  As he turned, Denny cut his head off with a swift yank of the whip, but she knew it would never be enough. Twelve or thirteen demons and witchers surrounded her. That was when she realized they had no intention of killing her.

  They were trying to use her as bait.

  Suddenly, the demons around him began falling to the ground. When the ninth one dropped, a half circle of witches walked toward the tree line, hand-in-hand. Denny counted thirteen in all.

  When they were done with whatever spell they’d cast, the only one standing was the one standing next to the body of their headless leader.

  “Looks like your luck’s run out.” Denny stepped closer, Fouet hissing and spitting as it touched the ground.

  The sidearm began trembling in his hands until, at last, he dropped it. He tried to run, but was rooted in place, most likely by a spell.

  “Witches,” Denny continued, “are amazingly powerful creatures. Resilient, they’ve managed to stay alive for millennia while the witchers hunted and killed them.”

  “Fucking cockroaches they are, that’s why.”

  Denny bent down and picked up the sidearm. “A revolver? Really. What’s wrong with you Euro-trash demons? I expected you to have super cool weapons and shit. But this? Seriously? You’re a joke.” Tossing it on the ground, Denny snapped Fouet. It bit the air, crackling all the time. “This is a weapon you can respect.”

  “You can’t win, hunter. People love evil. They love to be bad. We’ve already won.”

  “That’s just it. I don’t hear the fat lady singing yet.”

  Walking away from the higher-level demon, Denny cracked Fouet at those demons lying on the ground and killed the first six. Five exploded. The sixth did not. Then she walked back to the leader. “Seems to me you all haven’t fought a real Legacy in a long, long time.”

  The demon tried unsuccessfully to move his legs. “You aren’t all that.”

  Denny sheathed Fouet and brought Epée out with a schtick sound. “You might be right,” she replied, cutting off his left hand.

  He howled, looked down at his hand, and leveled a glare at her. “Motherfucker.”

  “I’d planned on sending your sorry corpse to your boss, or master, or whoever the hell it is you report to, but you’ve been such an ass, I think—” Denny cut his right arm off. “That maybe sending pieces back will be far more satisfying.”

  “Do what you will to me, hunter. Your witches are dead. You are dead. You are living on borrowed time.”

  Denny cut his left leg off and down he went.

  Standing over him, Denny placed Epée’s tip at the hollow of his neck. “You and yours are pieces of shit. You’re cowards. You are not worth another breath.” Then she shoved the tip through his neck.

  He exploded.

  Then she killed all of the others under the watchful eyes of the witches, who remained eerily silent.

  “Thank you,” Denny said to the witches. “But I believe there were witchers with them.”

  “We could only focus our power on these demons,” a red-headed woman said in heavily accented English. She had beautiful porcelain-like skin with bright blue eyes. “The witch hunters went after your friends.”

  “Shit.”

  Cassandra came out from behind the statue. “I took care of those. You need not worry, love.”

  Denny put her weapons away and was turning to introduce herself to the redhead when the woman broke away from the group, took several long strides, and punched Cassandra right in the face.

  Before Denny could stop the Hanta from emerging full blown and filled with rage, she grabbed the redhead by the hair, pulled her to the ground, and flashed both red eyes and teeth at her. “Touch her again and die,” came the Hanta’s voice.

  Cassandra wiped her bloody nose with the back of her hand and held up a palm to the other witches. “Calm down, ladies. This is between Beatrice and me. Hunter, please collect yourself. You’re hurting the poor thing.”

  Denny realized she had a handful of red hair and released it. “Uh. Sorry, ladies. Sometimes it can’t be helped.” Denny bent down and helped an irate Beatrice to her feet. “Sorry.”

  The woman glared at Cassandra. “I should have known you’d connect with a bloody Legacy hunter.”

  Cassandra stood almost eye-to-eye with the woman. “Actually, she’s not my hunter.”

  “Of course she isn’t. I imagine she’s just another conquest. A notch on your very carved up bedpost. You are so pathetically transparent.”

  Cassandra wiped more blood from her face and grinned. “If I recall, back in the day, you enjoyed being tied to those carved up bedposts.”

  Beatrice brought her hand back to slap Cassandra, but Denny’s reaction was so swift, she caught her by the wrist before she could strike. “Uh-uh. You got your one punch in.” Denny flashed her red eyes at Beatrice. “And we won’t appreciate it if you take another.”

  Snatching her hand back, Beatrice stepped away from Cassandra. “I had no idea the summons for assistance came from you or I might have bee
n inclined to reject it.”

  “Your mother would have been displeased. She looks well these days.”

  Beatrice inhaled, held her breath, then exhaled. “You saw my mother and you’re still alive?”

  Cassandra nodded and stepped back. “We’ve been a bit busy, but we took time out to visit, yes.”

  Beatrice cast a disparaging eye toward Denny. “I see you’ve not changed your naughty ways. Sex appeal oozes off this one.”

  “Yes, it most certainly does. As for being naughty, why should I stop when nasty is so much more fun than nice?”

  Beatrice turned on a dime. “You’ll never change. Well, summons fulfilled. Do not call us again. We shall not answer.”

  “We’re at the Paris Marriott Hotel Champs-Elyses. I’ll use the name we used when we went there over spring break. Perhaps one more for old times might soften you some.”

  “In your dreams.”

  When the witches disappeared beyond the tree line, Denny gently reached over to wipe some blood off Cassandra’s face “Seems like you might have deserved that.”

  Cassandra smiled. “Oh, that woman can hold her own during rigorous sex, to be sure. It has been so long, I wondered if she remembered her promise to punch me.”

  “What are you talking about? You let her hit you?”

  Cassandra shrugged. “I deserved it. I didn’t just break her heart. I sort of humiliated her as well. The punch was just.”

  Denny and Cassandra walked to the closest street to hail a cab.

  “Very touching of you to come to my defense like that, hunter. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you move that fast. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in love with me.”

  Denny blew out a breath. “Well, no doubt the Hanta clearly has an affinity for you.”

  “And you don’t?”

  Denny smiled. “I never said that.”

  Notre Dame was like a gigantic gargoyle reaching for the sky. It far exceeded the cathedrals they had seen since they’d landed.

  Ames paced back and forth on the lawn in front of the cathedral entrance. “Where the hell have you been?”

  “Uh, fighting demons? It took us awhile to get to the park. How’s Annalee?”

  “Woozy, but she’s sitting upright now. She’ll be fine.”

  “Good. Are we ready?”

  “Yes. Cardinal Bruce is a busy man. I’m glad you’re okay, Goldy. We’ve been worried.”

  “Aw, you were worried.”

  Denny explained about the phone and their suspicions it had a GPS location device or app on it, and Ames suggested everyone dump their phones in five different cabs, just in case.

  So they did.

  Everyone except Cassandra, who said they needed at least one way to connect with others.

  When they entered the cathedral, Denny stood in awe of both its grandeur and opulence. It had the most incredible stained glass she had ever seen, stations of the cross that were probably thousands of years old, and a spiritual energy about that made her want to just sit and take it all in.

  But there was no time for touring.

  Cardinal Bruce hurriedly came out and shook everyone’s hand. He was very tall and thin, completely bald, and slightly hunched over.

  Introductions made, Denny showed the ring to him, and he seemed at a loss for words.

  “Excuse my fawning ways, but this is exciting. I was told when I first joined the Elders that I might be called upon to do something extraordinary.” His voice was tinged with French from another region outside of Paris. “But I had no doubt it involved his Magnificence.”

  “Do you have an envelope for me?”

  He nodded, unlocked a drawer, and pulled out the envelope she requested. “You are much...younger than I expected. Are you certain—”

  “I’m a well-oiled machine, Cardinal. What I am trying to do here is save lives. To that end, nothing else matters.”

  He looked around at their small contingent and tried to avoid gazing too long at the demon guts still clinging to her pant legs. “Be that as it may, what is coming will take far more than five of you to beat it back.”

  “Oh, I’m aware of that. Don’t presume this is all we bring to the table.”

  He cast a worried glance out the window. “I’ve just never seen such a gathering of creatures.”

  “Yeah, well, they’ve had a jump on us, but we’re about to change that up. Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything at all?”

  “What do you know about the picture?”

  “Not a damn thing. Do you know—”

  “I know only that the ring and the necklace together will enable you to see whatever it is you need to see within the painting itself in order to help you find the book you seek.”

  “Damn, could those Elders have made this any harder?” Annalee muttered.

  “It had to be difficult. Do you not see what would happen if the demons or witch hunters were to get their hands on her treatise? Evil is winning. The world gets uglier and meaner every day. If the world’s populace had any idea just how much worse it would be without Legacy hunters to destroy those demons masquerading as people, they would treat you as Americans treat their professional athletes or actors. Only Legacies have kept the world from devolving.”

  “They would never understand, Cardinal, that to fight true evil you must also be evil,” Denny said. “I used to struggle with this concept until Ames used this analogy: ‘To fight a soldier, one must also be a soldier. You cannot beat back arms with a pillow or a daffodil. You cannot face him holding a peace sign or a pinwheel. In the universe, like attracts like. To defeat a warrior, you must become that warrior yourself.’ Annalee and I may not have made the decision to be Legacy hunters, to be possessed by something evil, but we understand the obligation that comes with it, and we are good with that.”

  Cardinal Bruce turned to Ames and nodded once. “You have instilled this young one with a great deal of wisdom.”

  “Her head is brick hard at times, Cardinal, but her heart is always in the right place. If anyone can stop the witchers and put a hurt on the demons, my money is on Goldy.”

  “Excellent.”

  Annalee and Denny both looked at each other and smiled.

  Denny quickly rose. “Cardinal, can you do one more favor for us? Can you give one of our phones to a different cardinal or bishop, or choir boy, and ask that they put it on a different mode of transportation? I fear the demons have at least one phone bugged and keep getting the drop on us. We just need to get them to pivot away from us.”

  He nodded. “Yes. Yes, I can do that.”

  Everyone put their phones on the table, except for Denny and Cassandra. “Need this one to go back across the English Channel.”

  “Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, I think we might make our escape more easily if you could lend us a couple of habits.”

  “Oh. Yes. Of course. Anything else?”

  “A van or something to get us to our hotel. Once the phone is out of Paris, this activity should die down some. At least, that’s what we’re hoping.”

  “Yes. I will make all the arrangements. Please, make yourselves at home while I see to these requests.”

  When he was gone, Denny laid her head on her arms. “God, is anyone else exhausted?”

  Iris reached over and rubbed Denny’s neck. “Totally.”

  Ames nodded. “If I never sit in a flippin’ hovercraft again, it’ll be too soon. I think I lost five pounds.”

  Cassandra rose and looked out the large window to a courtyard with a large, four-tiered water fountain. “Paris is always so beautiful. It is a shame to have to scurry through it like mice in the dark. I hope you all have the chance to return to see it in its glory.”

  “I might be inclined to stay in Europe if we live through this,” Annalee said. “And then again, I might just run back to the good ole’ US of A with my tail between my legs. It depends on which boob is sitting in the White House, know what I mean?”

  Ames pat
ted Annalee on the back before addressing Denny. “Good work figuring out the phone. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out how such low level demons knew we were coming.”

  “No doubt, Silver, these are not the brightest of the bunch.”

  “Cannon fodder,” Ames uttered.

  “What’s that?” Annalee asked.

  “During the Civil War, the south would use the black soldiers and slaves out in front in order to take the first cannon balls. When the cannoneers were reloading, the troops could move forward.”

  “At the expense of the blacks.”

  He nodded. “In every war since then, it’s been called ‘cannon fodder’. You put your conceived throwaways up front. It’s the dark side’s attempt to feel us out. We haven’t seen their big guns yet, but we will. Mark my words, we will.”

  “The last two who sought Hildegard’s treatise died in the process,” Denny said softly “If I knew you’d all go home tomorrow, I’d ask that of you, but—”

  “But we wouldn’t,” Iris interrupted. “So save your breath and move on.”

  Denny nodded. “Then you all go to the hotel. I’ll get us new cells, take another picture for...” She stopped and fumbled for her phone. “Jesus, I almost forgot.”

  When the phone came to life, she saw a selfie of Pat, Victor, and Lauren all giving her the thumbs-up with one hand while holding a beer in the other.

  Denny practically collapsed. “Thank God. The boys got her out. It looks like all is well at home.”

  “Then it’s time for you to part with that.”

  Denny placed hers on top of the pile. “We get some rest here before our flight to St. Peters. I know it’s risky staying in Paris, but sometimes the best we can do is hide in plain sight.”

  “I, for one, could use a good night’s sleep,” Annalee said. “But that could be the immense amount of tranquilizer running through my system. Just sayin’.”

  Ames put his arm around her shoulder. “Thanks for taking one for the team.”

  “Yeah, well, how come nobody else got shot?”

  “You’re special.”

  Cardinal Bruce returned, bearing an armful of assorted nunnery garb. He set the pile on the table before scooping up the phones.