Demon Hunter

by Linda Kay Silva

  “Well at least now I know why. For a minute there…”

  They ate in silence for a moment before Denny finally asked. “He’s really your boyfriend?”

  Pure shrugged. “Denny, he’s a really nice guy. He’s smart, funny, and he treats me with respect. He’s way more mature than the other guys his age. He doesn’t think farts are funny, he doesn’t blow snot out of his nose, and he refuses to get into fights with guys who want to test their mettle against him. You’d like him if you gave him a chance.”

  Denny wondered how many “nice guys” would call a lesbian a dyke man-hater. She decided it was best to let it go. Pushing Pure away right now would be a huge mistake. They needed to stay on the same side until Denny had more facts and less supposition.

  “Den, I know parenting me wasn’t on your list of things to do when you graduated from high school. I really appreciate you stepping up and all, but I’m not some stupid little girl. You and Sterling raised me really well, you know? You need to trust that. And me.”

  Denny chewed, nodding slowly. “I do.”

  “Then let me enjoy this without any guilt or sneaking around, because that’s what I’ll do if you draw that line in the sand.”

  Denny studied her little sister. She’d grown up so fast. She was only eleven when they’d lost their parents, but since then, she’d blossomed into a bright, beautiful young woman deserving of her respect and trust.

  A young woman who might very well be dating a demon.

  “You got it, but no more sneaking around, okay? If you want me to trust you then you have to be worthy of that trust.”

  “Really? That’s a deal.”

  They ate a little more in silence.

  “I’m really sorry to hear about Rush.”

  “I’ll get her back.”

  “How?”

  Denny smiled slightly. “Well, if you haven’t noticed, I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  Pure dropped her spoon in her bowl. “No shit! What was that? You popped him four feet in the air and a good fifteen feet away. His chest is bruised like someone hit him with a two-by-four. If I hadn’t been so pissed off about it, I’d have applauded.”

  “I’m...taking Tae Kwon Do.”

  “That’s too cool, but Christ on a cracker, that was pretty damned impressive. You kicked his ass and then some.”

  Denny pushed her bowl away and asked the question she’d been dreading to ask. “When did you get home?”

  “Last night, before you. Not that you’d have noticed. Your friend...the big girl...she’s pretty. She helped you get in bed. I left it be in case…you know…”

  “Pure! I was drunk, not horny.”

  Pure stared at Denny a moment. “Not your type?”

  “What do you mean? She’s just a friend.”

  Pure chuffed. “Chyeah. I saw how she looked at you, Denny. She likes you. A lot. But I can see why she’s not your type.”

  “Why? Too heavy? Too girly? Too—”

  “Too alive.” Pure ran out of the room before Denny could catch her.

  ****

  The Demons

  He watched her.

  Long, flowing blonde hair, a smile that would melt a glacier. She was the one, for sure. She would start everything happening and be so deep in it, it would be too late once it all came crumbling down.

  And it was going to crumble.

  It had to. This was, perhaps, his most important mission and, already, he’d made contact and swept her up in his world.

  Humans were stupid and self-absorbed, to be sure, but human women were the worst. How many of them were verbally, emotionally, and physically battered only to offer up both forgiveness and their faces for the next round of testosterone brutality? How incredibly pathetic each was to crave the abusive attention of a man too weak-willed to stop himself from harming a much more vulnerable creature?

  Pathetic.

  Yes, that was the best word to describe human women who contorted their bodies in the name of beauty—who shot toxins into their faces in order to appear younger and smoother for creatures who, truth to tell, couldn’t care less what a woman’s face looked like as long as she was either kneeling down or bending over.

  It was as if the female of the species was starving for any affection they could get, regardless of how toxic. With a beauty industry nearing eighty billion dollars annually, it was evident that a woman would rather starve than leave the house without her makeup.

  Yes, they were pathetic in their single-minded pursuit of something so far beneath them...something as inadequate as the male of the species. There seemed to be nothing women would not do in order to keep the twisted love of men who were not really worthy of their affections. Poor pathetic female creatures, always in a dither over something some slob of a man did or didn’t do.

  Well, not always.

  Then there were the lesbians.

  Now they were an interesting group, to be sure.

  Brave to the point of lunacy, those lesbians were loyal to a fault, willing to defend one of the group regardless of the consequences. No, they were nothing like the simpering straight women whose whole worlds revolved around men who’d rather watch a race car going in circles over and over again than spend any time with a woman who spent far too much time worrying about what NASCAR thought of her in those jeans.

  The lesbians were a tricky bunch, to be sure, because you never knew who the current girlfriend was because all the past girlfriends still hovered about—like moths to yesterday’s flame, like they just couldn’t figure out how to let go. They never knew when to quit or when to stop fighting. Even when the buzzer rang, they’d keep fighting.

  No, lesbians were definitely problematic, and the older sister of this blonde target was becoming one such problem.

  He would have to do something about that...and soon.

  ****

  Denny wrapped both hands around the mug of hot coffee and waited for Brianna, who set a plate of warm morning buns with melted butter sliding down the sides on the table.

  “How you feeling?”

  “Better now that my head doesn’t feel like it’s in a drum of the USC marching band. Thank you so much for going out of your way to care for me last night. I’m really embarrassed I got so drunk. It’s not like me. Honest.”

  Brianna laid her hand down on Denny’s. “Trust me. It was evident to everyone. Besides, I didn’t go out of my way. It was my pleasure, really, and I like to think you’d have done the same for me.”

  Denny sipped the fresh brew, savoring the aroma. “For sure. I just…had a bad day. I’m not really a drinker.”

  “Really? Wow. I couldn’t tell.” Brianna laughed and the sound, normally melodious to Denny, rang her head like a bell.

  Denny shook her head. “It was a stupid thing to do. I...I was just at my wit’s end.”

  “Because your girlfriend is missing? The one few can see? That’s actually understandable, Denny.”

  Denny laid her face in her hands and groaned. “Oh god…I didn’t.”

  “Oh...you did. I suspect if you were talking to anyone else, they would have passed it off as the ravings of a drunken woman.”

  Denny looked up at her. “You don’t?”

  “No, I do not. You chatted on a great deal before finally passing out, and my guess is that most of it, if not all, was the truth. Your girlfriend is a ghost.”

  Inhaling deeply, Denny sighed. “Yes.”

  Brianna tapped her chin with one finger. “I take it she’s Rushalyn Holbrook.”

  Denny nodded.

  “And something evil has taken her.”

  “Yes.” Denny waited for the other shoe to drop.

  It didn’t.

  “Was that all I said?”

  “Wasn’t that enough? Jesus, Denny this...this is incredible.” A look of understanding crossed Brianna’s face. “Oh wow. Look, you have nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. My lips are sealed. Besides, I’d sound like a raving looney, and the coven doesn’
t really need that kind of publicity, you know?”

  Denny just kept shaking her head. “Who would believe you, anyway?”

  “Right. Nevertheless, I just might be able to help you with this.”

  Denny perked up a bit. “How?”

  “One thing we witches do quite well is the séance. We might be able to communicate with her—see who has her and what we can do to help.”

  Denny’s eyes slowly traveled up until she locked eyes with Brianna. “You’d do that?”

  “Absolutely. Listen, Denny, we’re not playing at being Wiccans. We are. We believe in the power of nature and our ability to wield that power. I’m offering you the opportunity to tap into something most people believe is a myth.”

  “What will a séance accomplish?”

  “A séance will enable us to communicate with her to find out what’s going on. You mentioned Ophelia last night. She is a very powerful seer. What’s she got to do with this?”

  Denny groaned. “Did I?”

  “Nothing to be ashamed of, Denny. Ophelia was once the best in the business. If she told you Rushalyn is being kept from you, I’d believe her.”

  “And you really think you can help?”

  Brianna sipped her coffee. “I think we can gather some information for you so you at least have a game plan. Seems to me that’s more than what you’ve got right now.”

  “That would really put my mind at ease, thank you. Rush has been with me for so long, I don’t really know how to be without her.”

  “You sounded torn last night—like you truly, deeply miss her.”

  Denny’s eyes welled up. “She’s been in my life since I was eight years old. The house has never felt emptier or lonelier. I know it sounds crazy—”

  Brianna leaned forward. “Denny, I’m a witch. How crazy does that make me sound?”

  Denny wiped her eyes and grinned. “Tit for tat, eh?”

  “We live in the most haunted city in the country. Only a fool would refuse to believe in the supernatural and paranormal activities that happen on a daily basis. Although—” Brianna let her words fade.

  “What? Although what?”

  “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of someone having a ghost for a girlfriend. What’s it like?”

  Denny picked at her pastry, conflicted about how much to tell Brianna and how much she had already told her. “By it, I assume you mean sex.”

  “You have—” Brianna glanced around before lowering her voice. “Sex?”

  “Not just sex. Mind-altering, bed-rattling sex. It happens on a different plane in a different manner.”

  Brianna leaned back and whistled. “Wow. I never thought—never even considered—so she really is your girlfriend in every sense of the word.”

  “Every sense.”

  “Well, that totally explains you getting drunk, Denny. You’re grieving, frustrated, angry, scared and, to top it off, you’re worried that Pure is making poor choices with her life.”

  “I said that, too, did I? Damn, did I leave no stone unturned?”

  Brianna rose. “I can help you with one of these issues, if you’ll let me.”

  Denny finished off the morning bun and licked her fingers. “I’d like that, Brianna. I really would, and seeing as I’ve pretty much barfed my life out in your lap—”

  “Good. Then consider it done. I’ll let you know when we’re ready to go.”

  Before she went back to work, Brianna did something only Denny’s mother had done: She kissed Denny’s forehead. “You’re a gem, Golden Silver, and no matter how it feels, you’re not alone.”

  ****

  After Victor dropped her off at her car, Denny sat staring at the silver tubes she’d left on passenger side floor. Getting drunk when she had so many secrets was not only stupid, but irresponsible. Completely, totally, irresponsible.

  She’d been lucky this time. Brianna had kept her from doing something really, really stupid.

  She’d never cheated on Rush, not that she hadn’t had the chance. She had, but cheating wasn’t in her DNA. Besides, she loved Rush, and even though she knew it had to end one day, it was finally her turn to be there for Rush, and she wasn’t going to drop the ball.

  She called Ames, and thirty minutes later stood in his enormous underground complex facing him.

  “Let me see it.”

  Denny pulled her necklace out. Ames’s reaction caught her off guard as he took a step back.

  “What? What is it?”

  Running his hand through his hair, Ames Walker recovered his composure. “I’m...I’m sorry. I almost forgot the level of demon hunters your family is.”

  “What level?”

  Ames reached out and held the necklace, his eyes never leaving it as if it was hypnotizing him. “You...you are a rare breed, my dear. I knew your mother was special, but this…” He shook his head. “You have no idea.”

  “Oh, I think I do, Mr. Walker. Lately, I’ve had some extraordinary feats of strength where I have pretty much bested men almost a hundred pounds heavier than I am. Is that what you see?”

  “I see a great deal, Golden, a great deal, indeed. My job is to train you to the best of my ability, to make sure you know how to use your weapons and how to get the most out of what you know. My job is to help you stay alive.”

  “I don’t know jack, Ames. I know less than Jack.”

  “Good thing you don’t need to know Jack. You need to know demons. You need to know how to live your life with one foot in both worlds. There’s a lot you need to know, Goldy. This isn’t a part-time job, a hobby, or a vocation. It becomes your life, like eating, drinking, and breathing. You don’t play in this world. You don’t put one foot in the river and then pull it back out. You, especially.”

  “Why me especially? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “A whole hell of a lot, but especially you because of the legacy.”

  “The legacy. The damned Silver Legacy.”

  “It’ll be in your lair along with other books. You’re going to need to eat, sleep and drink this stuff until you have a vise grip on what being a legacy demon hunter is about. Your mother knew, but I never…she never revealed her necklace to me. And now, I totally understand why she tried to get your family out of it. For the first time in forever, I understand why she was so good…and so invested in trying to get you out.”

  “To save our lives?”

  Ames shook his head. “Oh, hon, there’s so much more to it than that. Nothing is ever that simple in a hunter’s world.”

  Denny nodded. She wondered if she should tell him about Rush, but decided not to. She figured he would say they had bigger fish to fry, and that would just piss her off. “I’m ready. I think.”

  Ames laughed and shook his head. “You aren’t even close to being ready, but the fact that you’re here tells me much about you. You are either very brave or you’ve seen enough to know you’re a born hunter—the chosen hunter of your lineage.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen them. They’ve seen me. We’re preparing to enter the dance and I don’t want to have my toes stepped on.”

  Ames smiled. “Oh yes. I’m quite sure they have, and your toes are the least of your worries. Well, it’s time. Come.”

  Denny followed him into a room that looked like a Tae Kwon Do studio. Dummies lined the back wall, foam mannequins that bounce back up after being hit. There were weapons of all kinds lining one wall. The place was spotless and the floor was covered with blue wrestling mats. The fluorescent lights were almost too bright for the room which gave off a hollow, empty sound as she walked in.

  “Wow.”

  “Oh, the party hasn’t even started.” Ames handed her the silver tubes. “Let’s see what these babies’ve got in them.” Walking about twenty feet away, Ames nodded. “Go ahead.”

  Denny looked down at the tubes in her hands. “Go ahead and do what?”

  Ames shrugged. “Whatever will activate the weapons. You saw what I had to do. Each is different. Feel the
weapon. They are a part of you as long as you wear the necklace.” He nodded to her. “Go on.”

  “I thought you trained my mom. Don’t you know how these work?”

  “I wasn’t that kind of trainer for her. She learned from a trainer in California. My job was to train her in the ways of our demons here in the south.” He nodded at her with his chin. “Let her rip, kiddo. Let’s see what these things can do.”

  Denny looked at the cylinders and closed her eyes.

  One thing she’d learned from Rush in their years together was the power of visualization. She opened her mind and felt a tingling sensation in her hands and in the back of her neck. The feeling that ran up her arm was the similar to what she felt when she hit her funny bone, only this went up her neck and jolted her brain like a drug.

  Denny opened her eyes and moved both hands as if she was cracking a whip. The weapon in her left hand, Epee, sprang from the cylinder. It was a sword that looked more like a scimitar. Curved and glistening, Epee looked sharp enough to cut your eyes just for looking at it.

  “Whoa. Awesome!”

  Fouet came whipping out of its cylinder, crackling with white energy like a living snake. Tiny scalpel-like blades lined the whip, making it bite at the air around it.

  “Holy shit!” Denny held Fouet away from her as though she was holding a live wire.

  “It’s a chain-blade,” Ames explained. “A rare combination of whip and blade. All you need to do is cast it like a fishing rod and it will slice through just about anything.”

  Denny stared at it as the electricity crackled. “Anything?”

  “Yes. The Fouet is one of the hardest weapons to master because it whips like a leather whip but also cuts with those chainsaw-like blades. We’re going to need some time to work on that one or you could do some serious damage to yourself.”

  “And Epee?”

  “Straight up demon sword. It will cut completely through a body like the proverbial hot knife through butter. Now, drop them both.”