Demon Hunter Page 4
Rush shook her head. “Earth to Golden Silver. Hello? What do you think we do? Sit around talking about the living? Chyeah. No.” Rush laid down on her belly with her feet up like a little waif. “Wanna talk about it, BooBoo?”
Denny smiled at Rush’s choice of endearments. She knew Rush would not be happy with her decision to see Quick, but she needed to be honest with Rush. They’d always been honest with each other and she wasn’t going to change that now. “I do, but I don’t want you busting my chops about it.”
To Denny’s surprise, Rush remained quiet until she finished.
“So let me get this straight. You are going to try to have some sort of conversation with your comatose mom,” Rush said.
Denny nodded. “Rush, I am in love with a ghost. I live in one of the most haunted cities in the world. Knowing that opens up a whole array of possibilities, don’t you think? Besides…she is catatonic, not comatose. She’s still in there, right. I just have to find a way to reach her.”
Rush scooted closer. “Tomato, tomahto. What I think, lover, is that it’s been a long day and I need you to do me.”
Denny grinned. “Oh really?”
“Yep. It’s been fifteen days and I’m about to bust a move. I know you’ve had a helluva week, but this could be just what the doctor ordered to get you out of your head and down here.” Rush waved toward Denny’s crotch.
A sudden warmth spread over Denny’s clit when Rush touched her. If a ghost concentrates all of its energy, it can actually move objects or, as in Rush’s case, warm up the surrounding area. It had taken years of practice, but eventually, Rush got very good at it. Very good.
“Come on.” Rush moved to lie on top of Denny. “Close your eyes lover and give me your best shot.”
Denny closed her eyes and let Rush transport them to another place, another time, where they lay together on a picnic blanket under an oak tree by a gurgling creek. The sun shined warmly on her back and a slight breeze rustled her hair.
“Nice choice.”
“One of your favorites, if I recall.”
In Denny’s mind, the visual images were so real she felt it in her body. She smelled the grass beneath them, the hibiscus in the air, and heard the birds chirp. It all felt so real.
Rush played with Denny’s hair before leaning over and lightly kissing her lips. Rush had the kind of lips women paid good money for. “I missed you today.”
Wrapping her arms around Rush’s neck, Denny pulled her on top of her and kissed Rush deeply, passionately, as if she might never kiss her again. They tongues wound around each other’s as they kept their lips locked and let their tongues dance. Their bodies presses together, it was the only time Denny could actually feel the weight of her long deceased lover.
These moments were vital to the bond they’d established years ago, and Denny didn’t think she would ever have another lover as tentative or as nurturing as Rush. She could do things with her mouth that were probably illegal in most states, and she had the longest fingers of anyone Denny had ever met. The best part was, she knew how to use them and she used them often.
“You are so beautiful,” Rush said, dropping kisses on Denny’s face. “Even when you wake up with bed head, I think you are gorgeous.
“Thank you, love, and you’re right. I needed this. I needed to get out of my head.”
“You need to get laid.” Moving down Denny’s body, Rush kissed her breasts, her belly, her mound, and then she stopped and leaned her cheek there. “God, I love you.”
Denny ran her hand through Rush’s hair. “Oh love, I so needed this. I just—” Suddenly, Denny stopped. “Wait.”
Rush looked up from between Denny’s legs. “What?”
“This.” Denny scrambled to her feet. “This. How do we do this?”
Rush rose as well. “Baby, you know how we do this. Are you feeling okay? What an odd question even for you.”
“No, no. I know how we do it. We are on a spiritual plane, right? My question is, if I can come here with you, why can’t I do this with my mom?”
“Umm...because she’s not dead?”
Denny pulled away, and suddenly they were back in her room, all illusion to the corporeal world Rush had created was gone. “No, seriously. If you and I are capable of being together on a different plane, why wouldn’t that be possible with my mom? Maybe that’s what Quick meant.” Denny leapt out of bed and grabbed her robe. “Maybe there really is some way to get to her.”
“Baby, it’s nighttime. Run around like a chicken with its head cut off during the day, but right now, please get back in bed.”
Denny paused in mid-stride before bowing her head. “I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”
Rush soundlessly patted the space Denny had vacated. “Nobody can blame you for wanting to talk to your mother, Baby. You miss her. You love her. It hurts seeing her like that. I get that.”
Slowly crawling back into bed, Denny scooted under the covers and silently wished Rush had arms she could feel hold her during moments like these.
“Close your eyes.”
Denny suddenly felt very tired. “I can’t do it right n—”
“Shh. That’s not what I want. Trust me. Just close your eyes.”
Denny did as she was told.
“In the morning, you can run around and try to figure out if you really can reach a place where your mother’s consciousness is, but right now, you just need to breath and let me take care of you.”
“Okay. You’re right…” As her body settled into tired slumber, Denny’s last conscious image was of Rush spooning with her, her arms wrapped around her.
“I love you, Baby. I gotcha.”
“You always do,” Denny said sleepily. “You always do.”
****
Denny’s Journal
My relationship with Rush is even more complicated than if she was alive. She is moody, temperamental, and has a typical Southern Belle attitude about the rest of the world. She is nosey, opinionated, and stubborn as shit, but for all of her faults, one thing I know above anything else is that she loves me.
When I was fifteen and received the horrific news that my parents had been in an automobile accident, I was so distraught I threw up. I kept heaving and crying, heaving and crying, until Rush finally spoke to me in that soft tone that had so often soothed my soul in times of distress. She saved my sanity that night—and I needed her because Quick had taken off and Sterling was busy consoling Pure. I had been left alone.
But not really.
As long as I lived in this house, I would never truly be alone.
And she continued to be there for me when we went through the funerary process and the horrible ordeal of consigning our mother to a rest home and the oblivion that came with her condition.
Then there was all those months afterward adjusting to life without my parents and trying to keep Pure from crashing and burning. All along, Rush had been there for me. Unwaveringly so.
When I turned eighteen, Rush and I finally consummated our odd relationship. She was old school in many ways, her southern upbringing coming out at the strangest times. She was my other best friend and confidante, and though we both knew our relationship had a shelf life, the arrangement had worked well for the both of us. We were no longer lonely in a rambling Victorian.
We both knew that someday a living person would come into my life, but until then, Rush would be the one I turned to in times of joy and...times like these.
****
“I’d like an—”
“Awake Tea latte extra hot, no sweetener,” the tall blonde barista finished for her. There was a sparkle in her eye and a mischievious grin to her lips as she rang Denny up.
“How’d you—”
“Magic.” According to her nametag, Brianna smiled such an enigmatic smile, Denny wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not.
“I’m normally at the machine,” Brianna said. “That’s how I know. Every day, like clockwork, you come in here and order the same thi
ng. People are creatures of habit. Then there are those of us who are just creatures.”
“Oh. Sure. Yeah. I’m—”
“Golden Silver. I know who you are. After the trial, everyone knows who you are. I’m just so sorry it happened to your family.”
Denny looked into a pair of sapphire blue eyes that spelled trouble in several languages. “Is that so? What else do you know?”
Brianna barely shrugged. “Your family lives in the old Holbrook house. Everyone who knows anyone knows who you are and where you live. I just happen to know what you drink in the morning.”
“Guilty.”
Brianna leaned over the counter, her eyes darting left and right before asking, “Is she still there?”
She may as well have slapped Denny across the face. “Umm…uh…”
Before Denny could answer, Brianna waved the question away. “I’m just messin’ with you, Golden. You know how much we Savannahans love our ghost stories.”
Denny felt a hot flush creep up her cheeks. “It’s Denny. I go by Denny.”
Brianna had not stopped staring at Denny. Her stare was a force field rooting Denny in place. She wanted to step away from the order line, but her legs would not cooperate. Nothing would move, nothing would work. She just stood there.
“I asked you why Denny? Whatever for? A name like Golden is so weighty—so refined. If I had a cool name like that, I’d wear it proudly.”
Denny blinked. She hadn’t been aware of a question.
“Yeah, well…Golden Silver pretty much says it all.” Finally tearing her eyes away, Denny smiled politely and made a beeline for her tea waiting at the pick-up counter.
“Have a good one,” she said to no one in particular before sitting across the table from a handsome black man with a huge smile on his face.
“Oh my god, girl, could you be any clumsier?” the young man said, his smile revealing rows of white teeth in need of straightening.
Denny set her latte down and moved her chair so she was facing him. “Shut it, Victor.”
“Oh, hell no. She was practically undressing you with her eyes and all she got for her troubles was ‘Have a nice day’?” Victor shook his head. “Seriously? Girl, you need to get out more. She did more’n undress you with her eyes. She had counter sex with you, only you didn’t even notice. No, you left her hangin’ there.”
Denny restrained herself from looking back at the barista. “It’s flattering, Victor, but I’m…taken.”
He leaned forward and spoke without moving his mouth. “By a ghost. That ain’t taken. That be a fool talkin’, and you are nobody’s fool, Denny Silver. That woman over there? She’s the real deal.”
Denny pushed on Victor’s forehead with the heel of her hand. “Taken is taken.”
“Come on! Seriously? Damn, Denny, it’s been three years now. Three mother fuckin’ long years. It’s time for you to live in the real world with the rest of us. Olly, olly oxen free! Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Denny shook her head slowly. Only Lauren and Victor knew about Rush, but Victor always had an attitude about their relationship and no qualms about expressing it. “It’s all ye, all ye, all come out for free,” she said.
He tossed his head back and laughed. “God, only you would know that. Wait. No. You and Lauren. Two nerdy girls”
“Look, I never gave you shit when you were nothing but a booty call to that Robert guy, did I? No. No, I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut when—”
“When you shoulda said, Victor you best be runnin’ the opposite direction for that dude gives me the creepy crawlies.” Victor crossed his muscular arms across his barrel chest, challenging Denny. “But you didn’t. Thanks for that, by the way.”
He may have been a queen, but nothing about Victor Fleming shouted fag. At six feet, four inches of solid muscle mass, he wasn’t one anyone wanted to tangle with.
Including Denny.
“Creepy crawlies?”
“He gave me the clap. I told you that.”
“I remember.”
“Asshole. That was one time I needed your mass communications to step in and prevent my ass communication, know what I’m saying?” Victor cut his eyes to the counter. “She still lookin at you, Den. Look at them titties. She’s got more than you can handle, fo’ shur.”
“Let her look. I. Am. Taken. Get that through your shaved noggin!”
Victor studied Denny. “Naw, I mean, she lookin’ like...through you. Like she’s tryin’ to get inside that thick heada yours.” He shook his head. “Big fat wasta time that is. You ain’t seen the forest from them trees, girl, not so long as you and Rush are hittin’ it.”
“Quit it.” Denny flicked his right ear. “Anyway, back to the reason I am buying your coffee. Something has come up, and I need Ophelia’s help, but I want to run it past you first.”
Victor whistled. “I don’t know. Mama’s pretty busy these days. Those storms and shit bring out the need-to-know in people, but what you need her for?”
Inhaling deeply, Denny told Victor about her visit with Quick. When she finished, Victor blew out a breath and ran his hand over his bald head. “You don’t wanna be playin’ in them playgrounds, Denny. I mean it. You stay far and wide from that shit.”
“Let Ophelia tell me that.”
Victor locked eyes with her. “You know Mama loves you to pieces and would do anythin’ for you, but openin’ a door that’s been closed for so long?” He shook his head. “You just oughta be prepared for her to say no thank you and hand you a glassa lemonade.”
Denny nodded. “I can accept that. There’s no harm in asking…and I have to ask, Victor. If there is any way, any way at all that I can get to my mom, I have to try, to matter what the risks.”
“Here’s a good question for you. What you think your mama knows that Quick couldn’t or wouldn’t share?”
“I haven’t a clue. I swear to God, it’s the weirdest thing. I’ve never seen my brother so serious or so secretive. Ever. It sorta freaked me out.”
Victor ran his hand over his baldness once again. “What’s weirder is Sterling’s reaction. You sure that girl wasn’t adopted? She can’t evah seem to be onna same page as the rest of you.” He looked over Denny’s shoulder and stood up. “Gonna see mama now. I’ll let you know, but don’t get your hopes up.”
Denny knew why he had left so fast when she saw the barista headed her way. She silently cursed Victor.
“Mind if I join you?” Brianna asked, sitting down before Denny could answer.
Denny shook her head. “Not at all. Break time?”
Brianna chuckled. “Or something. Look, I’m sorry for being so off putting. I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just…I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
“I’m sorry? I missed that.” Denny glanced out the window as Victor bumped his two fists together before laughing and getting in his car.
“About the ghost. It’s just, well, I’m very familiar with the many ghost stories of Savannah. It’s a...sort of a hobby of mine, and yours is one I am quite familiar with.”
“Yeah. Everyone seems to think she’s still in the house.”
A few beats passed before Brianna whispered, “So, is she still there? Rushalyn?”
Denny leaned back. “You’re not that sorry, are you?”
Brianna blushed. “I have an innate curiosity for all things supernatural and you live in a haunted house. Do the math.”
Denny smiled. “So you really know about the Holbrook house?”
Brianna nodded. Her long, slender neck reminded Denny of a swan. “I know a great deal about things mystical, magical, and paranormal. Holbrook House, as you know, is on the magical map.”
This made Denny laugh. “Magical map? Seriously? Along with witches, doppelgangers, fairies, and elves?”
“Something like that, yeah. I’m sorry if it’s weird to talk about, but denying something doesn’t make it so.”
Denny relished the warmth as she wrapped her hands around the tea, �
�No worries. The house is haunted. All the guide books say so.”
“Do you always not answer questions?”
Denny sipped her tea and looked over the top of her mug. Brianna’s eyes were riveting and locked onto hers. “Not about ghosts, no. To be honest…it’s all pretty personal.”
Brianna nodded. “Fair enough. Then can I ask something about you?”
“You can ask all you want. I can’t guarantee an answer.”
Brianna leaned closer, her necklace falling into her ample cleavage. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Denny looked away before barely nodding. Suddenly, she was feeling very warm.
“Not the big black guy?”
Denny laughed. “Oh hell no. I love Victor with all my heart, but he’s gay. Super gay. Pink cape wearing kinda gay.”
“Really? Wow. I missed that one. Normally my gaydar is spot on.”
“Most people miss it. He’s one of those who never need a beard. One of the best guys you’ll ever meet, too.”
“I’ve found in life that good people attract good people.”
“Yo, Bri,” the other barista yelled. “You taking the day off, or what?”
Brianna threw down a punch card with her name and number on it as she stood up. “If you ever feel like answering any real questions, or going out to dinner, call me.”
Watching her walk away, Denny wondered if that day would ever come.
****
The Demons
The demon driving the bus looked into the rearview mirror and smiled. Full bus.
Perfect.
The humans were such an amazingly trusting group. They lost kids to drunk drivers, to people texting while driving, to old folks who had no business on the road and yet, they kept piling their families into metal death traps and rolling the dice. Hell, even dolphins knew not to swim where the sharks swam, for Satan’s sake. It wasn’t rocket science to know that roads were pathways to death.
So maybe it was stupidity and not trust.
Whatever the reason, nearly one hundred thousand lives were lost on these paved roads of death each year—most of them were preventable, and yet, here they were.