“And everyone else.”
“I have no desire to entertain the nobodies of this city.”
“The nobodies of the city?”
“I am, by nature, reclusive. I’m sure Brianna conveyed that”
“She didn’t tell me much. But for a recluse, you have a beautiful home.”
“Yes, I do, but not for sharing or entertaining. What I do requires privacy and security the likes of nothing you’ve ever seen. The exterior of this house may look like a dive, but I assure you, there is a sophisticated security system in place.”
“Wow. You’re right. I never would have guessed.” Denny sipped her coffee.
“Oh, I’m quite confident there is a great deal about me that you would never guess.”
A bell rang. Ames donned red oven mitts and removed the bread from the oven.
“Such as?” Denny asked.
“That I run a Tae Kwon Do studio in town.”
“Really? Wow, so are you a black belt?”
“I am slightly higher than that. While I no longer teach classes, I occasionally take on certain...promising individuals.”
Ames slowly turned to Denny. “So, what can I do for you, Ms. Silver?”
“It’s Denny, sir. Please.”
“Okay, Denny. People seldom seek me out unless it involves my specialty, and Brianna Stuart is, indeed, special.”
“Demonology, sir. I need a crash course.”
He placed the bread on a rack to cool. “Well, yes, that’s one way to refer to it.” Ames took off the oven mitts and sipped his coffee. “Chicory is underrated by most coffee shops, don’t you think?”
He walked over to an antique secretary desk and retrieved a worn manila folder.
“I am the South’s premier demonologist, uhh, Denny. I’ve studied and tracked hundreds of demons across this state and beyond. I know more about them than any hundred people put together. That is why Brianna recommended me to you. She couldn’t possibly have known––” Ames pushed the folder over to Denny. “Why I am the
only
person who can help you.”
Denny set her mug down and opened the folder. Her mother’s name jumped out at her from the top page of a thick stack of paper.
“What the fuck––”
“Your mother came to me the night she knew her hunt was out of control.”
“You...you
knew
my mom?”
“
Knew
her isn’t all. We were good friends. Very good friends.”
The words swam before Denny’s eyes as relief lifted the burden from her shoulders. Brianna was right: she wasn’t alone in this after all.
“You knew...my mom.”
A smile briefly crossed his face, lighting up his light blue eyes. “I did. She was...is...a very brave, very funny lady.”
Denny wiped her eyes. “Brave?”
“Ho, yes, indeedy. There was no demon she wouldn’t go after, no evil she would not wrestle to the ground. She was as proficient a hunter as any man I have ever trained.”
“Wait. You trained my mom?”
“Oh yes. I am the reason your family moved here. Well, I am one of the reasons. The others you’ll have to discover for yourself, but yes, I trained her. One of the best hunters I have ever worked with.”
“How many did she...hunt?”
“Three, four dozen, maybe?” He looked up at the ceiling as he calculated. “But you see, your mother’s strength wasn’t in the killing. It was in her reputation. Savannah has been demon free for quite some time because she was so good at it. That has changed a great deal since the accident. Everything has changed now. They have returned.”
“She must have been good.”
Ames sliced the bread and, after putting it on a plate, handed it to her. “Not just good. Your mother was the best. Smart, courageous. She was incredibly adept at setting traps.”
“Traps?”
He grinned. “You have so much to learn.”
Denny inhaled the steam rising off the banana nut bread. “Like everything. I need to know everything, but...I don’t even know––”
“It’s not really a choice, as you’ll soon see, if you haven’t already.”
“What do you mean? I don’t––”
“Finish your bread and I’ll show you. There won’t be much time if the legacy has been passed on to you.”
“I don’t understand.”
He nodded patiently. “Once you leave here, you’ll know why you’re experiencing some of the things you are.”
Denny’s eyes lit up. “Thank god. For a minute there––”
“You thought you were going insane? Hardly. But it sure can feel that way.”
Denny studied his face. “What if I don’t want to be a hunter?”
“You might not have a choice anymore.” Ames walked around the island and looked into Denny’s eyes. He held her chin a moment as he gazed into them...or through them. “Just as I suspected.”
“What?”
Ames shook his head as he walked away. “Come.” He started toward a door that lead to the basement. “There’s not much time.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” Denny stood up. “My mother didn’t raise a dummy.”
Ames turned to her. “Smart girl. But we need to go to my basement so I can teach you some demonology one-oh-one. You need far more information than you realize. That’s what you came here for, right?”
Ames walked back to the kitchen, opened a drawer, and pulled a 9 mm handgun out and set it on the counter. “You can bring that down with you when you come, after you finish looking at the file.” Ames started down the stairs. “But finish the file first. I’ll be waiting.”
Denny turned her attention to the folder.
The first page was a photo of her mother, with her long blond hair and piercing green eyes. Denny’s eyes were just like hers, only with flecks of yellow. Her mother, while not beautiful, was a handsome woman with Lauren Bacall features. The photo had been taken years ago.
The next thirty pages were individual reports about the demons she’d hunted and the results of each hunt. The reports included manner of death, place, circumstances, length of hunt, etcetera. Denny was amazed by the details. The odd thing was, under the section listed as
Killed With
, it appeared Fouet and Épée were always with her and did the lion’s share of the killing.
“She had partners?” Denny said to no one. She glanced at the basement door before looking at the gun. Then she dialed Brianna’s number and waited.
“Hey you, what’s shakin’ bacon?”
“I’m with Ames Walker, getting ready to go down to his basement. If I don’t call you in an hour, send the cops.”
Brianna laughed. “Don’t be absurd. He’s a good guy.”
“I’m serious.”
“Oh. Wow. Okay. Paranoid much? You think I sent you into the lair of a serial killer?”
The word lair gave Denny pause. “Uh. No?”
Brianna laughed again. “I’ll call you in an hour. Okay?”
“Thank you.” Denny slid off the bar stool, crammed the rest of the bread in her mouth, and headed for the stairs, leaving the gun on the counter.
“If Mom trusted this dude, then so will I.”
***
T
he demon was breathless from the chase. Two traps and he’d nearly lost a leg to this tracker. This hunter would never stop. He was proving to be relentless.
The demon flagged down a cab when he felt the spiritual presence of his foe.
“Olive Street.”
The cabbie said nothing as he punched his meter.
Before he could put the car in gear, the demon sliced the man’s throat. He pulled the bloody body into the backseat, then slid into the driver’s seat and pealed out into the traffic, looking in the mirror to see if anyone was following him. He didn’t see anyone.
“Jesus,” the demon muttered. He glanced down at a leg wound that was bleeding heavily.
That was the problem with humans. They bled so darn much. One little cut and you’d think they were on death’s door.
The demon chuckled.
Death’s Door.
As if Death lived in a house.
Why did humans always feel the need to anthropomorphize every little thing they didn’t understand? Like winged angels who merely looked like humans only with big wings? How dumb was that? Did they ever wonder if angels fucked or had to take a dump?
If only they knew.
He laughed again.
Why, if angels existed, would they
ever
choose to look and be as frail and weak as the human body was? There were far superior bodies on other creatures. The jaguar was a good choice. Maybe a dolphin.
And wings?
Seriously?
If an angel really had powers, would he need wings to fly?
The whole notion was ludicrous and infantile––two steps above the Tooth Fairy and Easter Bunny. He couldn’t believe these pathetic creatures believed
they
were at the top of the food chain. Did they not realize that if ants ever rose up to take their place, they could destroy every human on the planet in less than a week?
The demon stopped at a stoplight and looked closer at his wound. It should have stopped bleeding by now. What was wrong with him?
He looked up as his passenger door opened. The sickening sound of
schnikt
told the demon he hadn’t outrun this hunter. Before he could move, a pointed pike punctured his chest. He looked down at the pole protruding from his body and then to the hand still holding it.
Two seconds later, the demon blew up.
***
D
enny was surprised to find a small, finished basement furnished with a leather recliner and a television set. Ames sat in the recliner with the remote in his hand, but the television wasn’t on.
“Very good. As you can see, I have no dungeon or sex slaves down here. It’s pretty utilitarian, really.”
Denny handed him the folder. “If my mom did all of that, she didn’t do it alone. Those files say she did all of her killings with Fouet and Épée. Who are they and where can I find them? I have a million and one questions.”
Ames pointed the remote at the back wall of the little room. To Denny’s astonishment, the wall slid down into the floor revealing nothing but darkness.
With the press of another button, Ames lit up a room the size of a warehouse. Hanging on one wall were weapons Denny had never seen before. The rest of the room had wrestling mats, weights, and boxing dummies.
“Holy shit.”
“I’m afraid there’s nothing holy about any of those weapons.” Ames beckoned Denny to follow him into the room.
“Oh my god. I’ve...I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“No, you have not.” Ames stood back as Denny studied swords with two blades, metal bats with spikes, pikes of all sizes, and even a few guns that looked like something out of
Star Trek.
“Okay, I’m impressed. You’ve got tons of scary ass weapons, but you haven’t answered my question about Fouet and Épée. Maybe they know what happened to my parents. I need to speak with them.”
“I’m afraid Fouet and Épée won’t be able to tell you a thing.”
“Why? Are they dead, too?”
Ames smiled, his light blue eyes filled with warmth and patience. “No, my dear girl, they are not. Fouet and Épée have never been alive. They are the names of your mother’s weapons.”
“Her...weapons?” Denny looked from Ames to the wall of weapons and back. “She
named
her weapons?”
“Yes. You all do. It’s a peculiar practice of legacy hunters. The words are French for whip and sword. Your family origins hail from old French and the weapons have been passed down through the ages. Fouet and Épée are probably well over five hundred years old.”
Denny held her hand up. “Wait a minute. My mother was hunting and killing twenty-first century demons with sixteenth century
relics
? Why not a Beretta or a machine gun?”
Ames pulled one of the pikes off the wall. “This is one of my weapons. She’s six hundred and fourteen years old.”
“It’s a pole.”
He grinned. “Oh really?” Ames slammed the pole’s blunt end on the ground and a three-foot tall flame burst from the top of the pike.
Denny took a step back. “Shit.”
“The weapons themselves are ancient, but what each is capable of depends on the quarry, the era, and the hunter. In this case, it is the twenty-first century. Your weapons can do anything from fire to water, from blades to chainsaws. Whatever you need to defeat the demon.”
“They’ve been in your family forever and they are responsible for the deaths of hundreds throughout the centuries...maybe even thousands.”
Denny pinched the bridge of her nose. Instead of getting her questions answered, she had more and more to ask. “And you’re a legacy hunter?”
“No. My family were never hunters in the true sense of the word. I train hunters. I have been training them for almost a quarter of a century. It is...what we have always done in the name of the service.”
“This just keeps getting weirder.”
“I wish I could tell you it won’t get any stranger, but I’d be lying. This is only the tip of the iceberg for you, I’m afraid.” Ames put the flame out. “Demons can’t just be killed. They must be exorcised or destroyed by a relic. Sometimes, this kills the host as well, but you know what they say about the needs of the many.”
Denny nodded.
“You’ve not seen anything...different?” Ames put the pike back.
“In her lair? No. I’ve not really...I haven’t had that much time in there.”
“Oh. I see. So you haven’t located them yet?”
“No, but I can always use one of––”
“No, no, no. A hunter’s weapon is part of the family’s legacy. It belongs to the bloodline of hunters and reacts only to the legacy owner. No one else can use it to its full potential.”
“What does that mean?”
Ames removed the pike once more and handed it to her. “Strike it on the ground.”
Denny took the pike. It was warm to the touch. She struck it on the ground and waited.
Nothing.
“Try again.”
She did, with the same result.
Ames took it back, struck it on the ground, and the flame shot out of the top. “Its true power is only within my grasp.”
“A legacy weapon.”
“Exactly. You need to find those that belong to your family. Once you have them, I can help you learn how to wield them.”
Denny stared at the weapons on the wall. “So, if I decide to do this, you’ll be my Obi Wan Kenobi and teach me everything I need to stay alive?”