Demon Hunter Read online

  Denny loved the sound of her laughter. It danced across the air like refracting light, and always made her smile. “We can talk about your television viewing habits later. I’m going to go see what Q wants. End of story.”

  “But why? What good will it do you to see him like that?”

  Denny checked out her nails. She needed an emery board badly. “Guilt, maybe? Sterling and I really didn’t do much to help him out. It’s hard knowing my life is moving on while his is stuck there.”

  “Baby, there wasn’t anything to do. The evidence was stacked pretty high against him. Your sister was right. Let him rot.”

  “He’ll rot no matter what I do. Look. I’ll go and be back before you know it.”

  Rush walked over, fading a bit as she left the fireplace. The warmer she was, the easier it was to see her.

  “Don’t let him pull you into his web of lies, Den. I know you love him and all, but half the time your ass was in a sling when you were younger was because of him. Don’t get sucked in again. Don’t let him play you.”

  Denny nodded. “I won’t. I promise.”

  Rush laid her hand on top of Denny’s. “Be careful, baby. Some promises are harder to keep than others.”

  Denny was about to find out just how true that was.

  ****

  Denny’s Journal

  The call from Quick had rattled me, for sure. He had always been the devil on my shoulder, opposite Sterling’s angel. He was always goading me into things I knew I ought not do. He had a silver tongue and could charm the skin off a rattler. He was forever getting himself into trouble in school; sometimes it was for fighting, others for challenging kids to do things like jump off the roof of the school with only an umbrella.

  That hadn’t ended well.

  He could talk even the biggest scaredy cat into doing something…foolish. He was funny that way. Mom used to refer to him as the Pied Piper. Everyone else called him Trouble. Or tarnished. Get it? Tarnished Silver? Yeah, he hated that one.

  So in a way, Rush’s fears were warranted. She’d watched him charm me into trouble for ten years. I couldn’t ever say no to those dimpled cheeks and flawless smile. I never could look into his eyes and shake my head no. It was as if he had some sort of power over me that shifted only when Rush entered my life.

  Oh...and Rush?

  Yeah, that one’s a little harder to explain.

  She started out a ghost I thought only I could see. Then she became an informant, telling me about what was happening in the Historic neighborhood. Sometime around middle school, she became my best friend. I confided in her about everything that happened in my world, and she listened and gave me great advice. When I turned eighteen, she became my lover.

  Unless you’ve ever had supernatural sex, you have no idea what you’re missing. It’s way more mind blowing than strictly corporeal sex. I won’t go into it here, but suffice it to say, she rocks my world. She’s been my lover, confidante, and best friend for three years now. So, whenever Rush gives advice, I tend to listen. I don’t always follow it but I always listen. She’s smart about people even if she does watch way too much television.

  ****

  The Demons

  The demon opened the back door of the small, grey Victorian and walked right in. The kitchen was a galley kitchen that needed updating from the green and orange pairing of the seventies.

  Opening the refrigerator, he pawed through leftover containers until he found some fried chicken.

  “Nothin’ better than cold fried chicken,” he muttered, biting into a piece and tearing the meat from the bone.

  As he made his way around the lower level of the house, he ran his finger along the shelves. He stopped to pick up photos of a happily married couple.

  “You’ve both seen better days,” he said, smashing the glass and tossing it on the floor before heading upstairs.

  She was in the shower, as he knew she would be. It never ceased to amaze him that humans did not understand that the key to their safety lies in being unpredictable. They never quite mastered the un part of that word and, therefore, were easy targets. She was easier than most. Like clockwork, she cheated on her husband of two years every Tuesday and Thursday at the same hotel at the same time.

  Every fucking week.

  Like she wanted to be caught.

  Well, the demon had caught her and it was so easy, he’d still have time to grab a drink and a waitress afterwards.

  That was another pleasant surprise when he’d first arrived: how easy human women had become. It was unfortunate that human men were too dim-witted to know which buttons to push or what to do to bag a woman. It was so damn easy. The demon had discovered how a nicely dressed man with shoes other than sneakers, brandishing a warm smile, could attract women of all ages, shapes, sizes and ethnicity.

  It was child’s play, really. Look good and they would practically throw themselves at you. Run a comb through your hair and they would spread their legs without question.

  Walking into the bathroom, he folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. This assignment was the easiest by far. It wasn’t as satisfying as his last one. No, that kid last week at the bowling alley put up quite a fight, and it was fun kicking his ass into tomorrow. Fewer and fewer humans put up a fight these days. They had become soft. Weak. They didn’t have the fight in them they once possessed. They’d become beggars unwilling to go the distance.

  So lame.

  When she opened the shower door and saw him, she started to scream but he clamped a hand over her mouth before one syllable escaped her lips.

  “Shh. Shh. I am not going to hurt you. I need some answers, so if you’ll be so kind as to put on a robe and come with me down to the kitchen, I can be in and out in no time. If, however, you scream or plead for your life, all bets are off…and so is your head. Are we clear?”

  She nodded, her blue eyes wide with fear.

  “Good. Now, I am going to remove my hand. You get your robe and lead me downstairs.” The demon slowly removed his hand, his eyes never leaving her face.

  The woman grabbed her robe from its peg and hastily put it on.

  “Good. To the kitchen, then.”

  The demon followed her to the kitchen, where she turned, her arms wrapped around herself. “I...I have money.”

  The demon put his finger to her mouth. “No begging. This will be over before you know it.” The demon tossed the bloody knife on the floor. Then he opened his hand and flung blood all over the cabinets.

  “What...what are you doing?”

  “Setting the stage, my dear. Do you know how incredibly easy it is to frame a man for murder?”

  “M-Murder?”

  “Yes. It would seem you are playing in a very dangerous sandbox. You and your boyfriend, of course.”

  “Is it my husband? Because I can stop. I don’t need to keep seeing Jasper.”

  The demon tilted his head. “Odd though, that you haven’t.” As he removed the gun from his inner pocket, the demon grinned. It was so easy.

  “But you said you weren’t going to hurt me.”

  Raising the gun, the demon took one step back. “I said I’m not going to hurt you. I didn’t say I wasn’t going to kill you. From what I understand, it doesn’t really hurt.” With that, he shot her through the heart.

  “Tsk, tsk. And you were such a pretty thing.” He pressed her hand onto the handle of the knife before dropping it and the gun at her feet. “I should have been in Hollywood.”

  With that, the demon walked out of the house, whistling Born to Be Wild.

  ****

  Denny stared at the ceiling and tried to stop thinking about Quick’s murder trial. It had been a horrific experience to have to sit there while the evidence stacked up against him.

  And it had stacked pretty high.

  Sterling hadn’t allowed Pure to go to the courthouse, but Denny tried to go every day even against her older sister’s admonishments. Some days, she’d wished she couldn’t make it,
but she knew if the roles had been reversed, Quick wouldn’t abandon her. Ever. He wasn’t like that. No matter how much trouble she’d gotten into as a kid because of him, he never, not once, turned tail on her.

  That didn’t make those long, tedious courtroom days any easier. To sit and look at her brother, who had never harmed an animal, be accused of such an atrocity was unbearable. All those forensic photos were enough to give even the thickest-skinned person nightmares.

  “You can only have nightmares if you actually go to sleep.”

  Denny didn’t need to look over to know that Rush was perched on the foot of her bed.

  “You know, he would never ask me to come to the prison unless it was important,” she said.

  “His last words to you were what again?”

  Denny shook her head. She’d heard those words often during that trial. “He told me to move on and forget about him.”

  “Baby, he got life. Life. He wants you to live yours.”

  “I am living mine, but damn it, Rush, I won’t turn my back on him. Not even for you.”

  A quiet creaking sound told Denny she and Rush weren’t alone.

  “Hey Rush,” Pure said when she poked her head into the room. Pure had been able to see Rush since she was ten.

  “Looks like everyone is up,” Rush said.

  “Come on in,” Denny said, sitting up. “Rush was just trying to talk me out of going to see Quick tomorrow.”

  “Were you successful?” Pure asked, sitting next to Rush on the end of the bed.

  Rush laughed. “As successful as Ricky is at keeping Lucy from showbiz.”

  Denny shot a look at Pure. “I told you to turn the TV off when you go out.”

  “I do.”

  Denny stared at her waiting for Pure to cave like she always did.

  “She’s stuck in this house all day long. It gives her something to do.”

  “Oh my god, you let Rush get to you. And you—” Denny turned to Rush. “You know how gullible she is.” Denny shook her head. “The two of you are like trying to herd cats.”

  “She gets bored.”

  Rush floated up and hovered there a moment. “What are you guys? Five? Blaming the ghost? Puhleese. You meatheads, you.”

  Both Pure and Denny groaned at yet another seventies TV show reference.

  “Fine. I can take a hint. Screw you guys, I’m going home.” With that Rush disappeared.

  “Where was that last line from?”

  “South Park, I think.”

  “Jesus, Pure.”

  “Never mind that. Sister is gonna thwack you with a ruler if she knows you’re going to see him.”

  Sister.

  Pure had been calling Sterling that since before she took her vows, because she couldn’t say Sterling.

  “Yeah, well, what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.”

  Pure jumped on the bed. “Only prob with that theory, Einstein, is that Sister has spies everywhere. She knows everything.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it? I think we oughtta check for webcams or something, ‘cause she knows shit that happens before it even happens.”

  “Well, FYI little sister, Sterling doesn’t run my life, and I’m going. Is there anything you want me to tell him?”

  Pure sighed and stared out the window. The moon cast an eerie hue over the grass. “I miss him, Denny. I miss him so much.”

  “I know you do. So do I. I think it’s time we deal with the truth if his incarceration. I refuse to pretend he doesn’t exist.”

  “Tell him I love him, will you?”

  “I’ll let him know.”

  Pure hopped onto the floor. “Thanks. And…I’ll try to remember to turn the television off.”

  Denny shook her head. “Don’t bother. Who am I to keep a ghost from her favorite seventies television shows?”

  Pure smiled. “Well, that ghost thinks the world of you. She really loves ya, you know?”

  Denny watched in silence as Pure left the room. “Yeah...I know. And I love her…more than I should.”

  ****

  Denny skipped her classes at the college instead of missing a visit with her mother.

  She hated the assisted living facility with a passion. As expensive as it was, it still had days where the stench of urine and Clorox combined to create an odor that burned her lungs and hurt her heart.

  People who looked like shriveled mummies drooled and leaned over in wheelchairs, as they waited for death to take them to a more peaceful and odor-free existence. Dementia patients walked around mumbling the same mantra to themselves that they mutter every day. The staff waved, with forced smiles, to Denny as she walked in. She was certain she’d rather dig ditches than work there for a living. These people were the true saints among us.

  Entering the great room where the television tended to blast, Denny inhaled deeply and pushed herself forward. “Hi mom,” Denny said, bending down to kiss her mother’s forehead. “How you doing today?” The question was to Gwen but Denny’s eyes were asking her nurse, a petite Filipino woman named Princess, who had been her mother’s caregiver for the last two years.

  “She eat good,” the caregiver said, pushing her thick glasses back up the bridge of her nose. She was a tiny woman with large brown eyes, crooked teeth, and a heart of gold. “She eat better today.”

  That was about as good as it was going to get for Gwen.

  The car accident that took her father also took her mother, but in a far crueler way. Gwen hadn’t spoken a word since the accident, nor walked a step, though doctors could find no reason why she couldn’t walk. She would be confined to whatever hell existed in her mind and to the metal wheelchair for the remainder of her wasted life.

  It was a fate as frightening to Denny as anything she could conceive, and she and Quick had made a pact to never allow the other to live under those conditions.

  Taking Gwen’s hands in hers, Denny marveled at how thin and frail they were. For a forty-six-year-old woman, her hands looked like they were seventy. They were cold and bony, and had age spots the size of dimes. It was as if her mother had been caught up in some sort of time warp that quickly aged her.

  “You look beautiful today, Mom. Did you get your hair cut?”

  The little Filipino nurse smiled and nodded. “She no need color this time.”

  Holding one of her mother’s thin hands between hers, Denny closed her eyes and said, “I’m going to see Quick, Mom, so I came by early to see you. I...I just wanted you to know. He sends his love, as always.”

  Denny spent the next fifteen minutes telling Gwen about Sterling’s new project at the church and Pure’s new love interest, but she avoided sharing anything about her own life. She just couldn’t envision saying, “I’m dating a ghost,” though there had been several times over the years when she’d wanted to. It just didn’t seem fair to drop something like that on someone who could not respond.

  If Gwen had ever seen Rush in the house, she’d never said anything to Denny. Every time Denny had asked if Gwen had ever seen her, Rush only shrugged.

  “Mom, I can’t let him rot in jail and pretend he doesn’t exist. I know what Sterling wants. I just don’t think it’s what you’d want. So I am going. I hope I do so with your blessing.”

  Denny didn’t wait for an answer that would never come.

  ****

  A little over two hours later, Denny sat across from her brother in the cold visitors’ room. Everything in the room was gray—walls, chairs, tables, even the pallor of the guards appeared gray and wan. The young man who entered the room was as gray as pewter and thinner than Denny had ever seen him.

  When Denny looked at Quick, her heart picked up a beat. He was the mirror image of their father, with his brown curly hair, puppy dog eyes, perfect smile. Quick had once had so much potential.

  Had.

  “You’re thin,” Denny said. Quick’s once tan face now held the same gray pallor of the room and the guards. The family used to joke
that he could get a tan at midnight. Not so much now.

  “And you sound just like Mom. If you had to eat this shit, you’d lose weight, too.” Quick leaned forward, elbows on the table. “How are you, Goldy? Long time no see.”

  Denny wanted to move his bangs off his forehead. “I’m good. My grades are good.” Denny shrugged. “I can’t complain.”

  Quick leaned forward. “Got a girlfriend?”

  Denny shrugged. “Sort of. It’s...complicated. Too complicated to go into right now.”

  He grinned the same Pied Piper smile that got other kids into trouble. “It always was with you. How’s I.C?” I.C. stood for Immaculate Conception, Quick’s nickname for his diametrically opposed sister…or icy, for her cold demeanor.

  “Busy saving souls, I suppose, and no, she doesn’t know I came. She would have handcuffed me to a cross or made me bathe in holy water.”

  Quick nodded. “No shit. What about Pure? She keeping good grades?”

  “She is, but she thinks she might want to go to college out of state. She’s in love with California.”

  Quick shook his head. “Don’t let her. You need to keep the family together. It’s very important that you keep the family together.”

  The irony of that statement hit Denny in the face. Together was a relative term when one of the family was behind bars. “I don’t really have that option, Q. Pure is as stubborn as they come and will do whatever she damn well pleases.”

  He nodded and sighed loudly. “We are a stubborn lot, aren’t we?”

  Denny leaned forward. “Why am I here, Q? What’s got you so fired up to see me when you basically told me to forget you ever lived?”

  Quick stared down at his folded hands for a full minute before leaning forward and whispering, “I know this may come as a shock, Goldy, but...I’m innocent. You know in your heart I could never kill anyone.”

  Denny frowned. “It’s a little late for that, Q. You walked to the gallows like a man who didn’t care.”