The Demon Within Page 10

  “Yeah, actually I have been wondering why it wasn’t sated.”

  “Chinese food, Goldy. It’s hungry an hour later. Now, your mid-level demons are better. One or two of those, and the Hanta will sleep for a week at least...but a high level demon, the ones you really ought to be hunting, will sate that hunger for weeks. Even months.”

  “So basically, you’re telling me—”

  “You’ve been reeling in fish you ought to have just thrown back.”

  Denny nodded. “I get it.”

  “No, hon, I’m afraid you don’t. Since you’ve been feeding it crap, it’s come to like the taste of it. So when a low level demon’s energy is nearby, the Hanta comes to life because it knows crap is near...and it loves crap now.”

  Denny nodded. “Crap.”

  “Right. And from what I can tell, you’ve been feeding it lots of crap, so you’re gonna have to put it on a diet and regain some of the control you so easily gave up.”

  “I can do that, but I can’t do it alone. I…I’d like another shot at training with you.”

  Ames studied her a moment. “I don’t typically give people a second chance, Goldy. I’m a very busy man who—”

  “I won’t screw this up, Mr. Walker. Please, just give me another chance. I have what it takes to be an outstanding hunter—”

  “As long as you control the Hanta and not vice versa. But it’s in control now. You’ve lost the controls and now you want to get them back.” Ames slid off the stool and picked up a long silver cylinder about four feet in length.

  “And I can. I just—”

  Ames smacked her shin with the pole.

  “Son of a bitch!” Denny grabbed her calf.

  “Sorry, Goldy. You’re going to have to prove to me you have it under control.”

  “Seriously? You did not just hit me with—”

  He hit her other shin, only harder.

  Denny slid off the stool, rubbing both shins. “Jesus Christ, what the hell—”

  “Reel it in, Goldy. Already, it’s come to the surface.” With another deft move, he hit her elbow. This time, Denny’s hand reached out like lightning and she snatched the pole right out of his grasp.

  “That...is...enough,” the Hanta voice growled.

  Without hesitation, Ames dropped to a leg sweep that knocked Denny onto her back.

  “With reflexes like that, I’m surprised you are still ali—”

  Denny leapt from her back to her feet in one incredibly swift motion, pinning Ames against the wall with the pole to his neck. “I said...enough.” The Hanta voice was deep, scratchy, and commanding.

  “Nice voice...” Ames pushed out. “Even nicer red eyes. Yeah, solid control, Goldy. A couple of smacks to your body and he flies off the handle? Pathetic.”

  Denny’s chest heaved in and out. “Who...you...cal—”

  “Oh for Christ’s sake, are you that far gone?” With surprising swiftness, Ames head-butted Denny right on her forehead, sending her reeling backward.

  “Control, Goldy. Come on. It’s your body—your emotions. Fight for your life back, because if you don’t…you might never see it again.”

  “Bullshit. Nobody smacks me around and lives to tell about it.”

  Ames shook his head. “Yeah? Well then bring it, badass. Let’s see if you and your goddamned Hanta can beat up an old guy.”

  Denny lowered her head for a charge that did not come.

  Ames waited.

  And waited.

  Denny raised her head, her chest heaving in and out.

  “There you go. It’s like a genie in a bottle. You have the cork. Push back. Take control.”

  For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, ever so slowly, Denny shook her head—her eyes back to normal.

  “Thatta girl. I knew you could do it.”

  “I...I barely have it.”

  Ames walked over to her. He stood, feet firmly planted three feet apart, weapon at the ready. “Barely will suffice for the time being.” Leading her back to the stools, Ames returned to his. “You can’t imagine how disappointed I was that you fell off the face of the earth. You have your mother’s courage and cunning. You’d make a great hunter.”

  “I still want to be. I know I screwed up, Mr. Walker. I am aware of just how far off the reservation I’ve been, but my lack of caring may have cost a young girl her life, and if that doesn’t rattle someone’s tree, I don’t know what will. Consider me rattled.”

  Ames squinted as he looked at her. “You understand if you vanish again, if you quit, if you bail, or if you walk away because you’re frustrated, we’re finished. Done. I won’t teach you one more damn lesson.”

  “Yes, sir. I fully understand that.”

  “And if you question me, undermine me, or act like a horse’s ass in here, I’ll kick your ass so hard, you’ll be a hunchback.”

  Denny nodded and tried not to smile.

  “Good. Now why don’t you tell me what brought you here in the pouring rain crying in the first place.”

  Denny inhaled a deep breath and told Ames about Iris’s request for help, her rejection of any help, and what she found at the hospital. When she finished describing Iris’s face, a single tear rolled down her cheek. Denny wiped it away and stared at her wet fingertips. “Wow. I almost forgot I could do that.”

  “Haven’t shown any emotions lately?”

  Looking up at him, she shook her head. “Not until today.”

  “That, too, is a result of the Hanta. You see, its job, across the board, is to protect you—all of you. While it will allow you to feel strong or powerful emotions like anger, hatred, or confidence, it will try to seal you off from emotions it considers weaker...fear, sadness, guilt.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. A Hanta that’s allowed too much control is hazardous to your physical, emotional, mental and even spiritual wellbeing.”

  “I don’t want that.”

  Ames smiled softly. “I know. You’ve been out hunting, out killing and wreaking havoc, and now you have a score to settle, don’t you?”

  “For Quick?”

  “No. For this Iris. She came to you for help—your job, as a hunter, is to help. You just got a bitter taste of what happens when you don’t. You don’t turn your back on those who demons have targeted, Goldy. You just don’t.”

  Denny nodded, feeling her eyes well up with tears. “Her...her face...”

  Ames put his arm around her. “When is the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”

  “Sleep?” She forced a chuckle. “Is that on the shelf next to eating?”

  Ames raised one eyebrow. “You’re all sorts of messed up, kid.”

  “I don’t get much sleep these days.”

  “Because?”

  Denny searched for the right answer. “The Hanta doesn’t need sleep?”

  “Bingo. Come.”

  Denny followed Ames up the stairs to a second story guest room laid out in lavender and white. A four-poster bed made of dark cherry sat regally in the center of the room opposite a vanity made of cherry as well. One wall was light lavender, another a darker shade, and the baseboards and crown molding were pure white.

  “Oh. My.”

  “I understand that’s one of the most comfortable beds in all of Savannah, and you’re going to get in it right now and sleep until you aren’t anymore.”

  “But Iris—”

  “Can wait. You have a belly full, better control over your Hanta, and now, you need a good night’s rest. I insist.” Ames slowly backed out of the room. “There are fresh pajamas in that armoire. Sleep tight.”

  When Ames was gone, Denny stripped down and tried on the cozy pajamas. They fit perfectly.

  Snuggling down under the comforter, Denny heaved a loud sigh. She could feel her muscles relax as she sank into the pillow-top mattress. “Oh man, I need a new bed.”

  As she lay there, she willed her mind to be quiet, to rest, to stop its racing. She forced the Hanta back into the recesses of h
er soul, where it had been lurking for over half a decade.

  She hadn’t realized how emotionally and physically exhausted she was.

  As she was dozing off, her eyelids fluttered for just a moment and she could have sworn, for the briefest of moments, she saw Rush hovering near the window, her face a mask of concern.

  “Hey, Baby,” Denny whispered softly. “I think I’m gonna be okay. I…I miss you.”

  Closing her eyes, Denny fell fast asleep, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips.

  “You’re all over the place, you know. It’s almost too hard to keep track of you.”

  Denny opened her eyes to find herself sitting in a tree fort. No...it wasn’t any old tree fort, it was the tree fort from when they were little kids in California. Quick and Sterling had built it for them in one of the huge willow trees in the backyard.

  “Rush?”

  “Over here.”

  Denny turned around to find Rush sitting on the tree branch that went through the fort. Her feet dangled as she kicked them back and forth like a little kid.

  She wasn’t a ghost.

  “Rush? You...you’re alive?” Denny pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, that can’t be right. This...this is a dream.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “But you’re alive in my dream? You’ve never been alive in any of my dreams.”

  “Of course I am. Truth is, I’m alive in your heart, your very wounded, very scarred heart.”

  Denny nodded and suddenly Rush stood before her, her long blonde hair flowing over her shoulders. She wore ripped jeans and tank top with the 80’s band WHAM! on the front. Several leather bracelets adorned her wrists.

  She was in her eighties attire.

  “You just vanished and left me to my own devices,” Denny whispered. “Poof. Gone. Just like that. Why? Where did you go?”

  “I can’t speak to that, silly. This is a dream and I am not real.”

  “Then why are you here? Why am I here?”

  Rush tenderly touched Denny’s cheek. “I am here because I’ve always been that inner voice that guided you. You have always seen me as your North Star, your compass, your GPS system to navigate a life you knew was different, but you couldn’t possibly understand just how different until now.”

  “Yeah, well, look what happened when you left. I’ve been lost, Rush. I’ve been lost for so very long I have no idea where or even who I am.”

  Rush withdrew her hand from Denny’s face. “Denny, believe it or not, what happened to you had little to do with me being gone. You want to use that as an excuse, but the truth of the matter is you are possessed by a demon—and only knowledge can give you the power to control that demon. You want to blame my exit for sending you into a tailspin, but that’s not fair. There are many reasons why you fell off the shelf. Did me leaving contribute? Yes. But I was not the cause. You need to edit that story you’ve told yourself so you can begin dealing with the truth.”

  Denny studied Rush’s face. It looked older than it did as a ghost. “You don’t know, Rush. You have no idea how hard it’s been without you.”

  “Of course I do. That’s why I am here now.”

  “So what’s all this about?”

  Rush walked to the edge of the treehouse. “This deep sleep is opening your mind to truths you’ve been denying.”

  “And what truth am I denying about you? That it’s not your fault I…how did you put it…fell off the shelf?”

  Rush took Denny’s hand. “That you are possessed by a demon...that this…this new life of yours is forever. As much as it pains me to say this, your life, from here on out, will never be your own. You’ll never not be a demon hunter. The demon, not love, not lust, not power, not money, not friendship, not me, but the demon is your North Star now. Unless and until you face those truths, your spirit will continue to be weak. Root yourself in the truth, baby, or you will remain lost.”

  “So basically, I ought to stop blaming you?”

  Rush stood next to her and held her hand. “Basically, yes. I love you. I always have and I always will, but my exit was necessary. I had to love you enough to let you go.”

  “But I didn’t want to be let go.”

  Rush nodded. “Oh baby, I know that. I know you might have loved me the rest of your life, but you need at least one foot firmly grounded in the real world. You couldn’t do that loving me and you would never have let go. I did it for you. I did it because I love you more than anything in this world or any other.”

  The rest of the dream was too distorted and convoluted, so when Denny woke up, all she could remember was her conversation with Rush and the final, lingering kiss where she whispered something Denny couldn’t quite catch.

  ****

  She dreamt of Rush all night, her laughter filling the air at every turn. They’d had so many laughs together in their three years. Rush had been her savior after Denny’s parents’ accident—never leaving her side, never telling her it would “be alright.” Denny thought she loved her more for it, for the constant surveillance over the years. Was she eating? Shouldn’t she get more sleep? Who would watch over Pure? She had been a lover, a friend, a mother, a sister, a confidante. Rush had been everything Denny needed rolled into one wonderful ghost.

  But you can’t love a ghost forever—not without sacrificing the living. Rush knew this. Hell, Denny knew it. It reminded her of the fifth grade and being told it was time to stop pretending. Denny hadn’t wanted to stop pretending, hadn’t understood what was wrong with playing.

  Of course, she figured out later why, but that hadn’t lessened the sadness and longing for her pretend friends. They had been real to her.

  So, when Rush came along, it was as if one of her pretend friends had come to life and loved her. And yet, in the end, she’d had to give Rush up, too

  Rolling over, Denny stared out the window at the breaking dawn. She had slept all through the night for the first time in forever.

  That was when Iris’s face popped into her head.

  Slowly easing out from the warm confines of the extra cozy bed, she grabbed a quick shower and found her clothes from last night washed and folded on the bed. After dressing and brushing her teeth with a new toothbrush that had been on top of her folded clothes, she smelled the familiar scent of bacon frying and banana nut bread baking.

  Ames’s wonderful breakfast.

  Her stomach reminded her that she loved both, so she hustled downstairs to find Ames cooking in a black apron that said, “Don’t kiss the cook. You don’t know where my mouth has been.”

  As she sat on her stool, she checked the clock over the doorway. It was a little after six in the morning.

  “I can’t believe I actually slept through the entire night. I haven’t slept through the night in a month.”

  Ames poured her coffee and slid the mug to her. “Actually, you didn’t.” Handing her the cream and sugar, he smiled softly. “You slept through two.”

  “What?”

  He nodded. “It’s Friday. You slept all day yesterday.”

  Denny stretched. “No way.”

  Opening a waffle iron, Ames plucked one out, ladled all sorts of berries on it, covered it in whipped cream and handed to her. “Way. Because the Hanta doesn’t need sleep or rest, it doesn’t often recognize when the host does. It’ll run you into the ground without realizing that’s what it’s doing. Your level of exhaustion tells me you came awfully close to full possession, and you don’t want to know how hard it would have been to get you back.”

  Cutting into the waffle, Denny said, “You’re right. I don’t want to know because I never want to get that close again.” Denny sighed. “I’ve been out that long? Jesus.”

  Ames put two pieces of crispy bacon on her plate. She eyed the skillet. He pushed two more pieces onto her plate. “You have to be more careful. Your Hanta has been in a state of torpor for many years. It is awake, hungry, and slightly out of balance, which is one reason why you are as well.”

&n
bsp; Denny looked into his eyes. It was time for the truth. “There are other…well…more personal reasons why I’m all jacked up.”

  Ames nodded. “Those who fight monsters must pay close attention that she does not become one. It happens all the time to those who haven’t studied the right material or learned the right things. I don’t want to see that happen to you. So eat up because we have a lot of work ahead of us.” Ames leaned on the island. He was wearing a button-down, blue-collared dress shirt, grey slacks, a black belt and a frown. “Your friend Iris is out of ICU. Looks like she’s going to be fine. Well...not fine. She’s going to live.”

  A sense of relief washed over Denny. “Thank God.”

  “They’ll be back for her, though, so we need to talk to her and see what it is she’d like you to do. We need more information about her and her family. I take it you’re in?”

  Denny had to nod vigorously because her mouth was crammed full.

  “Excellent. Then we’ll visit with her after lunch.”

  “And before lunch?”

  Ames pushed off from the island. “We’re going to pick up where you left off. Training. Training. Oh, and did I mention training?”

  An hour later, Ames was kicking Denny’s ass all over the mat.

  And she’d never been happier for it.

  ****

  Gwen’s Journal

  I hadn’t realized the consequence of helping someone with their demon problem. Word spread like wildfire through the supernatural community and the next thing I knew, my phone was ringing off the hook, people were dropping by, and my email box was filled seemingly overnight.

  Robert wasn’t happy with my newfound popularity. I can’t blame him, really. Every time the phone rings, I swear he cringes. He worries for the kids, and I don’t blame him for that, either. Still, Savannah was his choice, not mine. I wanted someplace far away from the city, but he really wanted the job at the college and who am I to turn him down? He loves his job. Mine just happens to involve blood and combusting demons.

  Part of the issue is that I’ve become a rather proficient hunter. I say hunter and not killer because there are times when I have chosen not to kill. There are times when a lesser demon’s death just doesn’t seem worth the effort. There are times when a death would also kill the host, and I dare not take that risk.