Blood of the Demon (The Silver Legacy Book 3) Read Free

did it ever dawn on you that maybe she wants you to show you still care? Or at least she might want the friend you could be if you weren’t so pig-headed.”
    Opening a book on demonology, Denny waved Rush away. “I’m not into the damsel in distress type, you know? Now scoot. I’ve got work to do.”
    “You did not just dismiss me, Golden Silver.”
    Denny paused, book in hand. “Sorry. Fine. Well, since you’ve been to gossip central, any word about my sister?”
    “Sister Self Righteous Sterling is as boring as ever. She’s so boring, nobody ever talks about her. How pitiful is that?”
    “Not pitiful. Good. I’ll take boredom over danger any day.”
    “Well, that she’s got in spades. I’ll let you get back to work.” Rush started to fade, then came back stronger than ever. “And if you ever dismiss me like that again, not even your stupid Hanta will keep me from kicking your ass.”
    Then she was gone.
    ***
    D enny’s Journal
    I might be working less, but I’m studying more. There’s a never-ending amount of knowledge, and the more I know, the less I know. I’ve learned so much from mom’s journals, but I’ll be damned if I can find anything about Valeria anywhere.
    I met her three months ago during a battle with some nasty demons, but Mom’s vague in her journals about the powerful witch. A short sketch here, a line there. It’s as if Gwen was being purposely elusive any time she brought her up.
    Rush told me that she and my mom would sit on the porch for hours when my dad was gone, just drinking lemonade and chatting.
    Ames says they were more like allies than hunter and witch.
    Now, Cassandra is saying they were what? Lovers?
    Curiouser and curiouser.
    This evening Rush told me Brianna’s girlfriend was abusive. The Hanta wanted to take care of it then and there, to do some damage. I almost couldn’t get it under control.
    Almost.
    It’s not like we struggle for control. We don’t. It’s just...there are times when it suits me to let the Hanta take over. I get stronger, faster, more mobile, and wield Epée and Fouet with more force. The Hanta Raya, when at its peak, is nigh invincible. It protects us at all costs.
    Us.
    Me and my Malaysian spirit.
    It is also much stronger.
    It’s taken me a long time to accept that my mother agreed that I was the next in line, even though I am the third born. Quick was not stable enough, Pure was too young, and Sterling belongs to God.
    Clearly, I was the only viable choice.
    It’s also taken me half a year to get used to being possessed by a demon that’s been passed down through my family for over eight hundred years. For six months, I’ve been adjusting to a life lived as a possessed person. It’s hard to write that word, possessed down. Even harder to live it. It’s not been easy carrying a thing that is also the very creature you hunt and kill, and I’ve made many changes as I transformed from college student to demon hunter.
    Did I say demon hunter?
    I mean bad ass-don’t-fuck-with-me-or-I’ll-pop-your-head-like-zit-demon hunter.
    The transformation complete, I’ve come to accept this lifelong role. I don’t really know where it’s going to take me, but one thing’s for certain: I can kick anyone’s ass once I get there.
    ***
    D enny pulled into the parking lot of the old Miller Place, the home base for the coven, and sat there staring at it. The Wiccans inside had spent a pretty penny making the old Victorian the gem of the street. Light lavender paint with white trim adorned a three-story mansion surrounded by purple roses Denny was certain had been created with Wiccan magic.
    Exiting the muscle car she’d traded in for her Prius, Denny made her way to the house, knowing full well the occupants had already seen her coming.
    “Look what the black cat dragged in,” came a sultry voice in the rose garden.
    Standing with clippers in her hand was Cassandra, the High Priestess, a tall handsome woman with piercing blue eyes that bordered