Golden saw spirits in California, but she does not remember. I will have to keep a closer eye on her. Should anything happen to me, I am unsure whether or not she would take the mantel. She has so much to offer the world, such big dreams. I’d hate to see her give up her plans to pick up the fight, but she may not have a choice.
H.R.
My poor baby. There is nothing I can do now except teach her all I know when she is of age.
I sought council for it, for how best to help her when the time comes–– when the legacy continues, in order to help her deal with it. I will have to train her before I become too old to remember.
Too old.
Some days, I feel like they’ll be grown before I can stop them. I wonder endlessly when I’ll be able to tell them about the legacy and their role. Not everyone has what it takes or the desire to embrace a path created for us centuries ago.
To be honest, I’m not even sure where to begin.
~~~
B
efore Denny could read more, her phone vibrated with a text from Lauren.
Call me when you’re awake.
Denny dialed Lauren’s cell number. “I’m awake. What’s up?”
“Your Mike Cockerton is a ghost.”
Denny sat straight up. “A what?”
“Well, not a ghost like Rush. What I mean is he’s non-existent. No social security number, no birth records...hell, I can’t even find his parents’ names. It’s like––”
“He sprang up out of nowhere. Yeah. That was my greatest fear––he is here when he shouldn’t be.”
“Don’t do anything foolish, Den. He’s probably just some kid who fell through the cracks.”
Denny mustered a smile she didn’t really feel. “Thanks for the info.”
“Are you okay? You don’t sound like yourself.”
Denny pinched the bridge of her nose. The word
legacy
kept floating through her mind’s eye. “Just tired. Missing Rush, and I have an essay exam I’ve not started studying for.”
“Well, hang in there. I’m here if you need me.”
Lauren had needed her once.
Denny was still in high school and hanging out with her friends. They’d been messing around in an old barn when a huge piece of equipment fell on Lauren, pinning her to the ground. Denny had been scared to death it would crush the life out of her before she could get help, so she managed to lift the machine high enough for Lauren to crawl out from under it with nothing more than a scratch.
Everyone at school called her Wonder Woman for weeks. Denny, just chalked it up to fear-enhanced adrenaline.
Now, she wondered...
After they hung up, Denny decided on a new approach to learn about the legacy. It sounded, from her mother’s journal, as if it was more of a curse than a blessing.
“Let’s see...legacy, legacy,” Her fingers trailed along the spines of leather-bound books, but nothing jumped out at her. Of course, she still needed to climb the ladder to the top shelf, but––
Her phone rang again.
It was Brianna.
“We can bring the séance members to you tonight if you’re available. Sorry for the short notice, but you need to get on it when you can. Is tonight okay?”
Denny felt a weight lift. “That would be excellent. What do I need to do?”
“I’ll send you a link on the setup, preparation, and expectations. Follow it to the letter. No substitutes, no creative thinking. You understand?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Golden Silver. A séance is nothing to mess around with, especially in a house known to be haunted.”
“Rush doesn’t haunt.”
“I realize that. Just understand that opening the doors to the other side is always a dangerous thing. That’s why you must follow the directions exactly. If you’re unsure, call or text, but
don’t
take creative license here. This isn’t playing around. This is the real deal. We’ll be over at nine.”
“Nine? Not midnight?”
Brianna chuckled into the phone. “Superstitious balderdash. See you soon.”
As soon as Denny hung up, an email popped up. In it she saw the list for preparing for the séance: a comfortable room, fresh roses, candles, and a host of other items, including incense and sage needed to smudge the room.
Hell, I would eat a candle, incense and sage if it brought Rush back
.
The house had never felt so empty or lonely. Pure had noticed it too.
Denny checked her backpack to be sure Fouet and Épée were still there. When she was sure they were safe and sound, she put the backpack over her shoulder and decided to walk to the closest crystal store where she knew she could purchase the bundles of sage. The quickest way was through the cemetery. She was almost through when she saw two thugs leaning against a large headstone. It felt as if they were waiting for her.
Denny slowed down but kept walking toward them. She kept her eyes on one of them and when he made eye contact, she saw the tell-tale flash of red.
Demons.
Denny stopped and looked around for an alternate route. When they started toward her, she knew running was not an option. She swung the bag off of her shoulder and withdrew her weapons, her heart banging against her chest as she planted her feet. “Now, I’m not sure you fellas want to fuck with me,” she said.
“Not with ya, baby, just fuck, period.” The demons laughed.
Denny knew she was alone. She knew it and they knew it. If she didn’t make a bold statement right now, they would have the jump on her.
With a flick of her wrist, Fouet and Épée came to life.
“Oh shit, dude,” the scrawny one said, backing up. “What the hell?”
The air crackled from the energy and the two weapons glowed white light halos that surrounded them. The light flickered from white to blue. Denny stood her ground, feet firmly planted, eyes narrowed. “
Not
really what you boys were expecting, huh?”
“She’s a fuckin’ hunter, dude.”
Denny had no idea if there was a protocol or operating procedures when hunted and hunter met, so she merely shrugged.
Power surged through her as she stood there, weapons at the ready, her muscles responding.
“You fellas can turn and run away and live to bother some other unsuspecting person or you can deal with me now and hope I don’t go all crazy bat-shit on your asses, ’cause frankly, I’d love nothing more than to fuck you both up. It’s been a bad week. So what’ll it be?”
The two men exchanged glances, nodded, and ran right at Denny.
She snapped the chain-blade at the man on the right. The chain crackled as it whipped. It cut through the air as if tasting the demon’s blood was all it lived for. The weapon sliced through his shoulder and chest and then snapped through his body, virtually cutting him in half. The mangled pieces landed on the ground before exploding into a hundred bloody pieces.
Fouet whipped back so quickly, it sliced Denny’s right eyebrow. Blood flowed down her face as the whip retracted into the cylinder.
Covered with her own blood as well as the blood and guts of the dead demon, Denny wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and held Épée toward the other demon, who had stopped when his friend exploded.
“Fuckin’ A. You’re a goddamned rookie. You cut your own face.” He laughed. “What a chump.”
Denny blinked, trying to keep the blood out of her eyes. The sword still crackled with white energy traveling up and down the blade. Her eyebrow stung, she was covered in the flesh and blood of the first demon, and something strange was happening inside of her. It was like her muscles were pumping up––only it was bigger. Much bigger.
She
wanted
to see the second guy blown to bits as well. She yearned to wear his blood all over her.
Denny took an
en guarde
stance. “Well, this
chump
is ready to send you back to whatever rock you crawled out from under, asshole.” Denny slid Fouet in her back pocket and gripped her sword hilt with both hands.
“I may be a little harder to kill than my buddy, sweet pea, and I’m sure––” When he locked eyes once more with Denny, he stopped his show of bravado and stepped back, muttering something that sounded like
“Santa”
before turning and running away. He ran so fast, he was gone before she realized he wasn’t going to fight her.
Denny sheathed Épée and put the cylinder back in her bag
Was it magic? Was it the supernatural? What
were
they, these demon slayers?
Denny had blood and body parts all over her, including in her hair. Her eyebrow stung and her heart was banging hard inside her chest. Her palms were sweaty and trembling, and her breathing was labored, but she was, for the most part, unharmed.
She pulled out her phone and dialed Victor’s number. “Can you meet me at Crystal Palace with a clean shirt, some handy wipes, and a tube of Super Glue?”
“Uh...sure. Everything okay?”
“That’s a relative term, you know? See you in ten.”
As Denny started across the street and out of the cemetery, she wondered why the demon had called her Santa.
Santa?
Was that it?
Maybe it was something else. She couldn’t be sure. A person blowing up in your face was more than a little disconcerting. The way Fouet sliced through that first demon was beyond incredible. Denny could only shake her head.
Victor was waiting for her at the Crystal Palace. He had an Atlanta Braves sweatshirt for her as well as the wipes and Super Glue. His mouth fell open when he saw her. “Oh my god, Den, are you okay?” Victor grabbed her face and studied it. “You’re cut. What the hell––”
“Most of the blood isn’t mine, big guy. Relax before you––”
Too late. Victor went down like a tipped cow. He always fainted at the sight of blood.
“Shit.” Denny pulled her shirt off, wiped her arms and face with it, and used her sweatshirt to cradle Victor’s head. “Sorry, big guy.”
Once her hands and face were clean, she pulled the visor down and opened the lighted mirror. “Oh man,” she said, examining the three-inch slash bisecting her eyebrow. “Jesus.” She cleaned the cut enough to Super Glue the two sides together and then picked pieces of demon out of her hair before helping Victor to his feet.
“You okay?”
He swallowed and nodded. “That...was a lotta blood.”
“Fortunately, most of it wasn’t mine.”
“Then whose was it?”
“Long story, but I’m fine. Thank you for bringing me this stuff.”
“Girl, you need more than Super Glue. That thing needs stitches. What happened?”
“Can you wait? I’m...I’m not sure what happened, but I think it’s time I figured it out. I...I’m, pretty sure I just killed a demon.”
“Wait. Whaddaya mean
killed
?”
“Would you believe me if I told you I cut it in half and then it imploded?”
“No shit?”
“No shit. Now I’m going in to Crystal Palace to buy stuff for a séance.”
Victor looked at her, dubious. “You’re not kiddin’ me, are you?”
“I wish I were, but no. Would you mind waiting while I get some sage and other stuff?”
Victor held Denny’s chin and examined the gash. “Not at all, but I think you oughtta get this looked at. It’s pretty deep. What the hell made this cut?”
“You sure you want to know?”
“Absolutely.”
Denny pulled Fouet and Épée from her backpack and with a snap of her wrists, the air crackled and hummed and Fouet sizzled and bit the air.
“Meet Fouet and ––”
Victor fainted again.
“Yeah, that’s kinda how I feel,” she said.
***
S
he felt like she’d been holding those weapons her whole life. They were an extension, just like Ames had said––a part of her being that seemed to know, before she did, what needed to be done. Denny never imagined having the power to slice through a human body. And therein lay the crux of her problem as she rifled through the books in her lair.
Her
lair.
She’d stopped thinking about it as being her mom’s. No. It was hers now, and for better or worse, she was taking on the role of demon hunter whether she wanted to or not. What she needed to know was whether she had just killed a human being and was a murderer or if she had destroyed a demon.
She found the answer in a book titled
The Killing of Demons and Witches.
As Denny read, she realized killing a witch could get you thrown in prison for murder, but not so with all demons. If a human has been possessed, and you strike it with your
armes magiques,
or magical weapons, they will cut through the demon and purge it from the body. If, however, a demon is walking around in human form, uh...well, she’d seen the result of that action. They explode. Combust. Make a huge mess.
Well, at least she didn’t have to worry about the cops knocking on her door.
Denny set the book aside and picked up Gwen’s journal. She wanted to know what
her
first kill had been like, even though she couldn’t even imagine her kind-hearted mother pulling a weapon out and blowing a demon to bits. Where had she kept...then it dawned on her. Gwen had constantly carried around this big purse––the kind you could live in. It had been off limits to the kids, who had always teased her about it. Is that where she kept her
armes magiques
?
Thinking about that big purse triggered other memories about her mother, the demon hunter. She loved Doc Martens, which was why both Pure and Denny wore them. Denny had learned about using Super Glue to close wounds from her as well. Gwen had a cut on her chin once and was in the process of applying the glue when Denny walked in on her. She remembered it as if it was yesterday. Gwen told her she’d banged herself on the sink.
And those leather “driving gloves” she always wore. Always. No one wore gloves in Savannah in summer.
The puzzle that was her mother began to fill in.
Flipping to an earlier section, Denny reached for her glasses, but they were not on the top of her head.
“Shit.”
She’d just had them on when she was reading the
Killing
book. Before she began looking for them, she glanced at the page of the journal she wanted to read.