Blood of the Demon (The Silver Legacy Book 3) (17 page)

“I don’t want your advice.” Denny stepped out of the boat and followed the four men to an area she was certain was part of the village.

A fire burned brightly from a campfire ringed with stones. Rickety looking wooden chairs sat empty around the perimeter. By the light of the fire, she could see small wooden shacks on four fort stilts with uneven stairs leading to corrugated metal doors.

The Hanta was trembling from an anger Denny had never felt from it. She knew she would have to be careful. She would need to keep her wits about her. She was all alone out here in a swamp she knew nothing about, in darkness like the inside of a cave. One wrong move and this could very well be where she would die, never to be found again.

But the Hanta would make certain that didn’t happen.

***

D
enny was escorted to the chairs around the fire and told to sit.

Sitting on the edge of one of the chairs, she wondered if there was any electricity out here. It was simply too dark to see anything. This felt primitive, aboriginal.

“Wait here.”

The leader went to converse quietly with a tall woman standing just outside the reaches of the fire’s eerie glow. They spoke in a language Denny was sure she’d never heard before as her eyes scanned for an exit strategy she knew she was going to need.

“She’ll see you now,” said the small man as he walked back to her.

“Yeah? Who the fuck is
she
?”

“Mind your manners, hunter.” He pushed Denny back in the chair and held a sidearm gangland-style at her.

The woman emerged from the shadows into the yellow light. She was tall and large boned, and wore a dozen or so bangle bracelets. Her colorful headscarf matched her dress, and she could have been forty or sixty. It was too dark to tell.

“Welcome hunter. I am Hélène, the Mambo Asogwe in these parts. The highest priestess of our people.” Her voice was soothing with just a hint of Haitian or Jamaican.

“I don’t really give a shit who you are. Where is she? What have you done with the witch?”

“Control your demon, hunter. I would hate to have to kill you for no reason.”

Denny started to rise. Four semi-automatics pointed at her. Denny and the Hanta ignored them all and stood facing Hélène. “I won’t ask you again. Where. Is. She?”

Hélène moved her braceleted arm in the direction of a shanty. “Bring the witch.”

Two men walked out with Iris in between them. She appeared, for the most part, unharmed.

Relief flowed over Denny, at once calming the Hanta and making it want instant retribution. “Iris, you okay?”

Iris started towards Denny, but the two men held her arms.

“I’m going to kill you all,” Denny growled.

“Once again, hunter, control your demon. This is not what you believe it to be.”

“You’ve kidnapped my witch, lady. Of course this is what I think it is.”

“I’m fine DH. They haven’t hurt me.”

Denny turned on the woman. “Then what the hell is this? What do you want?”

The woman motioned for Denny to sit and waited for her to do so before answering. “I believe we share the same interest in a demonic event occurring in our city.”

“Honestly, I’m just about to the point where all I’m interested in is taking Iris out of this place and leaving you all to fend for yourselves.”

Hélène warmed her hands on the fire, her bracelets tinkling against each other. “You see that’s just the problem. If you leave this to Farquar, she will kill those young teens on principle alone. Those are
my
people. Killing them will start a war with the rest of my people. The witches may or may not take her side. I doubt they would. No one here likes Farquar. Even if they did, the body count would stack up, and for what? It was an error in judgment. Those children do not deserve to die and I’ll not stand by while she contemplates killing them.”

“What does any of this have to do with me? You all can eat each other’s brains for all I care. Just give me my witch and we’ll be on the first flight back to Georgia.”

Hélène faced her. “I wish it was that simple. As you have no doubt surmised, those five teenage Vodouisants opened up a rift and the only safe way to close such a gaping hole is with the same Voodoo magic that opened it. Surely your witch has told you as much.”

Denny cast a look over to Iris, who appeared more intrigued than afraid. “Maybe, Maybe not.”

“I am sure Farquar and her very powerful witch friend believe that sending the youth into the rift is the only way to close it. They are incorrect. That is witch magic. If you kill them, I am not at all sure I can close it. The kids have scattered. I fear for their safety if Farquar finds them. She is not nearly as level-headed as you. Pure killer that girl.”

“Can’t you just ring a cowbell or something?”

A slight smirk rolled up the corners of Hélène’s mouth. “You think I haven’t tried? They are frightened. They know what they have done and they also know that Farquar will kill them as soon as look at them. I need your help to insure that does not happen. I need those boys back unharmed.”

“In exchange for closing the rift. Does that about sum it up?”

“It does, indeed.”

“So why can’t you find them?”

“Leaving the village now would leave my people vulnerable to attack from those demons as well as from Farquar herself. We are safer out here than in the city. I have people looking for them, but the swamp...it is enormous. They could be anywhere.”

“So you want me to find them. Then what?”

“Bring them to me. Together, we will close the rift they so foolishly opened and I will make sure they pay a price—but death is too high a price.”

“I agree. You know, you could have just met me for coffee. You didn’t need to kill the poor homeless guy and stuff—”

Hélène held her hand up. “What did you say? I have killed no one.”

“Decapitated and left with the phone stuffed in his mouth? Does that ring a bell?”

She whirled on the two men holding Iris. “I thought I told you––”

“He was alive when we left him, I swear!” The pockmarked one raised his hand in surrender.

The other ones nodded. “We did as you said, Mistress. We handed him the phone and bade him to find her.”

Hélène’s face was a mask of smoldering anger. “This is the work of someone else.”

“Someone who wanted me to show up here and kill you all.”

“Yes. Louis was to explain to you that the witch was in safe hands. Good hands. She was merely the insurance I needed that you would come. He knew his role in this. His death was not part of the plan.”

“And just how is it you knew he was connected with me?”

Hélène tossed her head back and laughed. “I know you met with him at Du Monde. I know you bought him two orders. Nothing happens that I do not get wind of sooner or later, Hunter.”

“Then why can’t you find the source?”

“Voodoo magic is not like witch magic, hunter. Witches are tied to the earth with earth magic. The concept of tying that exists in Haitian religious culture is derived from the Kongolese tradition of
kanga
.
Kanga
is the practice of tying one's soul to something tangible.”

“Right. Like Voodoo dolls and shit.”

Hélène sighed. “That is what Louisianan Voodoo entails. Voodoo does not. Because those demons coming from the rift are not tied to something tangible like a body, I cannot track their energy. By the time they enter a human, they are well away from the source. I am blind to them and they are invisible to me.”

“Hélène, I really don’t give a shit anymore. I just want Iris and then we’ll get the hell out of Dodge. I don’t have a dog in this fight.”

“Oh, but you do.”

Denny frowned and looked at Iris.

“Farquar’s witch will get caught in the crossfire trying to save the hunter. If you wish no harm to come to Valeria, you need to step back into the game right now, because believe me, she is not the most powerful piece on the board and is in danger.”

The anger rising inside Denny wasn’t the Hanta now. No, this time, it was all Golden Silver.

“Look, Hélène, some asshole is out there moving us like chess pieces, and I for one am tired of
the game
. I’ll find your Vodouisants ass-wipes and get them to lead us to the source, but I won’t do it without my witch. That’s no deal. Either she comes back with me tonight or you can all go fuck yourselves.”

Hélène studied Denny. “You are nothing like Farquar, Hunter.”

“Yeah, and thank god for that.”

Hélène stood directly in front of Denny now gazing into her face. “And it is not because you are new, for surely your demon is quite ancient. It is...” She turned her head from side to side. “You actually
care
.”

“For Peyton? Hardly. She’s an arrogant asshole I don’t have ti—”

“For the young witch over there. You would risk your life right this very moment to save her.”

“She’s my friend, and friends don’t let friends be held hostage by Voodoo priestesses.”

Iris shook her head. “Are you kidding me with that? Somebody give me a knife so I can slit my wrists.”

Denny smiled at Iris before returning her gaze to Hélène. “You’re right. I do care. About her and Valeria both. I’ll find your kids and bring them back unharmed if I can, but if they attack us and we have to defend ourselves, then all bets are off. I will not put my people at risk just to keep from harming yours.”

“I want your word, Hunter.” 

“You have my word, Hélène, that I will not kill the young Vodouisants responsible, nor will I allow Peyton to do so, but if you think I’m leaving this swamp without
her
, you have another thing coming. So, what’s it going to be?”

“Very well. I shall release the witch into your care and take your word you will do as you’ve promised.” Hélène nodded to the two men who let go of Iris. “I will, however, need to set a mark upon you that will allow you access into the many Voodoo enclaves in the swamp and beyond.”

“A mark? Like a brand or something, because I’m so not down with that.”

“No, you must trust me, otherwise you will not live to see dawn, and you certainly will not make it out of the swamp.”

Denny glanced over at Iris, who nodded.

Taking Denny’s face in her large hands, Hélène closed her eyes and uttered words Denny didn’t understand. Then, as a mother might, she lightly caressed Denny’s scarred left eyebrow before stepping away. “There. When the work is done and you have kept your word, I shall remove the mark.”

Denny turned to Iris. “Is there a mark?”

Iris nodded. “Ummm...yeah. Just a little one really. I mean, it’s not so bad. In many circles it would be...umm...cool.”

Inhaling deeply, Denny held her hand out to Iris. “Hélène, I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you double cross me or don’t keep your end of the bargain.”

“I am well aware, Hunter.”

“Then if we are through here, there’s work to be done. We’ll need a ride back.”

“But of course.”

As Denny stepped back into the small boat, she locked eyes with Hélène. “I gave you my word, and that means everything to me, but if one of those punk-ass Vodouisants killed Louis,
someone
will feel my wrath. If they come at us, they are dead meat.”

“I would expect no less from you, but you must act quickly. The demonic forces get stronger with every sunset, and they, too, will be seeking out the children. The easiest prey for young demons.”

As Iris got in, she nodded to Hélène. “Your national bird is what?”

Hélène smiled. “The Trogon. A beautiful bird of blue and gold or red and black, both with black and white tail feathers.”

Iris nodded. “Thank you.”

“Keep your hunter’s wit about her, young witch. She will need to remain calm in the face of the danger mounting in our city.” As the boat pushed from the rickety dock, Hélène shouted, “If I were you, Hunter, I would keep the witch by your side. Someday, her powers will exceed even yours.”

Denny looked at Iris, at Hélène and back to Iris. “She’s not just a witch any longer, Hélène. She’s
my
witch.”

***

V
aleria and Peyton stared openly as Denny and Iris entered the bedroom.

“Thank the goddess, you’re both unharmed. I have had the coven searching everywhere for you, Iris. Where have you two been?” Valeria hugged Denny before leaning away to look at her face.

When her gaze traveled to Iris, Iris shrugged. “It was a long and weird night.”

“She’s not selling it well. It was super fucking weird.” Pulling out of the embrace, Denny turned to Peyton. “You’re looking better.” Denny stepped up to the bed.

Peyton’s mouth moved, but nothing came out.

“What?”

“Wish I could say the same for you. You went to the village, didn’t you? How in the hell did you find it?”

Denny glanced over at Valeria. “How did she know?”

Valeria pointed to the mirror.

Denny leaned down to look into the vanity. The face staring back at her had a black and white tattoo of a feather running from the top of her eyebrow, ending midway down her right cheek.

“What the fuck?” Denny rubbed the tattoo as if it might come off. “That woman really marked me!”

“Yep, Rookie, you’ve been marked.” Peyton chuffed and shook her head. “You let that creepy ass Mambo High Priestess mark you. Can you
be
any more of a novice? Jesus. You’re lucky your head isn’t on a pike somewhere. Un—fucking—believeable—”

Suddenly, Iris’s hands flew up, and Peyton went mute. “That’s enough.” Iris stood at the end of the bed. “Actually, it’s more than enough. Peyton Farquar. My hunter came here because she was nervous about you...you, a legacy hunter she’s never met. She dropped everything to come to New Orleans because she was troubled something had happened to you. She arrives to help, has to fight off dozens of demons, and you’ve been nothing but a demeaning jackass since Day One.”

“I didn’t ask—”

Iris flicked her wrists at Peyton once more, stopping her in mid-sentence. “I. Am. Not. Done.” Iris stepped closer. “You speak to either of us like that again, and you can clean your own damn house, but right now—
right now—
Denny has a deal with Hélène that could very well keep the peace in your backwater little burg, as well as possibly close the rift you almost lost your life over. Now,
we
are going out to fulfill
our
end of the deal by finding those kids and returning them
unharmed
to the swamp. In the meantime, get out of bed and start looking.” She flicked her wrists once more.