Blood of the Demon (The Silver Legacy Book 3) (7 page)

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 and 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.”

***

W
hen 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.

This did not bode well.

“Hey Cassandra. Look. I know—” Denny stopped when Cassandra held up her hand.

“I have no claims on you, Hunter. You are free to fuck whomever you wish, just as I am. Just as I do. Frankly, I am surprised you and Brianna haven’t cut through all that sexual tension sooner.”

Denny stared at her. “You’re not...angry?” Denny wondered if Rush had gotten her wires crossed.

Cassandra cocked her head to the left as she locked eyes with Denny. “First off, anger would change nothing except perhaps your feelings for me, and quite frankly, I thoroughly enjoy sex with you. So, no, I am not angry about that. We have no commitment, spoken or otherwise. We are both free agents capable of enjoying other people’s company.”

Denny noted the use of the word
people
. “Good. Thank you. I thought for a minute—”

“That I would feel Brianna’s
betrayal
?” Cassandra narrowed her eyes, her tone icy. “Because that is what it was. I am not at all pleased with her. You may fuck whomever you wish, but to have one of my sisters bed one of mine? No, no, that will never do. I shall deal with her in my own time,”

Denny stood taller. “So you
are
angry, just not at me?”

“While you and I have no such commitment or bond, Brianna and I, as coven sisters,
do
. That, however, is coven business and not your concern. My sisters are not to fuck any of my lovers.”

“I beg to differ Casandra. Brianna and—”

Cassandra’s mouth covered Denny’s, her tongue entering Denny’s mouth, firm and aggressively, her arms holding Denny to her as the kiss transformed from a one-sided event to a unison between two mouths, eagerly wishing to taste each other.

The Hanta was pleased.

As the kiss became stronger, their lust more powerful, Cassandra released her grip on Denny and dropped her robe to the ground, revealing her curvaceous and completely naked body.

“Taste me, Hunter,” Cassandra said, pulling Denny toward the only recliner in the room. She sat, opened her legs and guided Denny to her cavernous warmth. “Taste all of me. Please me like you please no other.”

Denny nodded as she took Cassandra’s tenderness in her mouth and teased her with her tongue. The Hanta wanted to fuck her hard and deep. It wanted to bury three fingers so far inside her, she’d be a hand puppet.

Denny denied it the satisfaction and pushed back.

As she sucked on Cassandra’s clit, she could sense Rush’s utter and complete disapproval.

She didn’t care. The Hanta didn’t care. Nobody cared that fucking Cassandra was the exact wrong thing to be doing at this moment.

Cassandra wanted to cum and Denny was going to oblige.

Several minutes later, Cassandra got what she came for and offered reciprocity, which Denny delicately denied. “I have work to do in the lair. Rain check?”

Picking up her robe, Cassandra shook her head. “Moon check. I want you, Demon Hunter, in my mouth, on my lips, surrounding my fingers. I want all of you. Come to me when your work in the lair is done. Do not make me seek you out.”

Wiping her mouth, Denny nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

“A better plan that screwing around with my underlings.”

Denny opened Cassandra’s robe and slid her hand over her breasts. “I don’t know what happened. One minute Brianna was yelling at me, the next––”

Cassandra pulled her robe around her once more. “Of course you know what happened. What woman
doesn’t
get turned on by the champion riding in to save the day? Your actions tell Brianna how deeply you feel for her.”

When Denny said nothing, Cassandra reached down inside Denny’s jeans and continued. “It is no surprise to me, Hunter. You wear your heart on your sleeve. Fortunately for you, it is not your heart I am interested in”

Cassandra pulled her hand out and started for the door, her robe now securely around her. At the door she turned once more and withdrew a business card from her pocket. “Here. She is expecting you. Call upon her the moment you land.”

Denny slowly took the card. “Land?”

“Come now, surely you now know I am aware of nearly every move you make. I, for one, think it a mistake to go to New Orleans. It is bad business there and you know so little of the supernatural world in which we live. I fear for your impetuous self.”

Denny sought words that never came.

“You cannot hope to navigate the shark-infested waters of a city like New Orleans without aid. I offer you my connections because I prefer your return in one piece so that we may continue enjoying each other’s bodies.” Cassandra lightly kissed Denny’s forehead. “One piece, Hunter. Remember that.” With that, Cassandra was gone.

“She’s fucking scary,” Rush said from the top of the stairs. She was wearing a purple leather mini skirt, and a bright yellow blouse. A huge gold peace sign hung from her neck. “Seriously, Den, could you have picked a more aggressive woman?”

“Pretty sure she chose me.”

Rush waited for Denny at the top of the staircase. “You’re up to your eyeballs in witches, baby. If you’re not really careful, you’ll start some kind of Wiccan brouhaha.”

Climbing the stairs two at a time, Denny then entered the lair. Peyton’s entry was still unfinished. “Shit.”

“I know it might be inviting and fun to have women fighting over you, but not when it’s two witches. I mean, how do you know one if not both haven’t put some sort of sexual spell on you? May Ling says they do it all the time.”

“Ya know, Rush, I really don’t have the time or energy to worry about that right now. I need to go to New Orleans to see if Peyton is all right.” Gathering her weapons, her leathers and one of her books about Wiccans, Denny locked up the lair and headed back downstairs.

“Den?”

“Yeah?”

“Please be careful. Don’t bite off more than you can chew, okay?”

Denny quickly tossed her clothes in a duffel bag, grabbed her keys, and started for the door. “Oh, Rush, I’m pretty sure I took that bite a long, long time ago.”

***

D
enny stood on the corner of Bourbon Street and St. Ann and took in the sights and sounds of the vibrant French Quarter. She felt like she was standing inside a loud kaleidoscope. The entire place filled her senses to overload, but she loved it. All of it. The fried food smells, the jazz bands playing, the corner juggler. It was so incredibly alive.

Pulling out the business card Cassandra had handed to her, Denny looked at the address before programming it into her phone.