Blood of the Demon (The Silver Legacy Book 3) by Alex Westmore Page B

she. That was quite a shocker.” Denny pinched the bridge of her nose. “I apologize. This is...so unexpected.”
    Valeria continued through the small kitchen and into a front room—modestly decorated but too dark to see much color, the shades being completely drawn. “Indeed it is for the both of us. I usually feel your energy before I see you. I must be overly tired. Please sit. I need to make sure your energy has not disrupted my security measures.”
    Denny sat on a loveseat of soft leather and waited. The Hanta calmer now, she retuned Epée’s cylinder to her vest. A million questions pin-balled around in her brain, but none made the journey to her mouth. Cocking her head to one side, Denny listened. It was deathly quiet—preternaturally so. What other spells was Valeria using to keep Peyton safe?
    As if she’d heard Denny’s most innermost thoughts, Valeria answered. “Believe me, Golden, there are many. It’s taken all of my powers to keep Peyton safe and alive.”
    Denny rose. “So she is in trouble.”
    “To put it mildly, yes. She lost a battle to a higher-level demon who exacted its pound of flesh and more. It nearly destroyed her. She is resting quietly for now, but for how much longer, I do not know.”
    “For now? Valeria, what in the hell is going on here?”
    Valeria sat across from Denny on the matching sofa. They remained in semi-darkness as Valeria arranged her robe around her. “Peyton is hanging on. She suffered contusions, abrasions, lacerations, a concussion, and some broken bones. Without witch magic, I’m certain we would have lost her.”
    “Jesus, what got her?”
    “A higher level Dybbuk. It seems they are waging some sort of war here and they targeted Peyton first.”
    “They?”
    “The Dybbuks.”
    Denny moved to the edge of her seat. “Plural? There’s more than one in New Orleans?”
    “How long have you been here?”
    “Two days.”
    “Of course. I’ve felt so much demonic energy it is no wonder yours was missed. I have not left the house in nearly five days, which is far longer than it should have been, but she is in no condition to be moved.”
    “Oh my God, she’s that bad?”
    “I’ve not seen a hunter take such a beating and survive. I cannot even believe they didn’t just kill her straight away. There are just so many.”
    “No kidding. I’ve been a killing machine since I got here.”
    “So you’ve seen—”
    “The influx of demons? Oh hell yes. Yes I have. I didn’t realized there were other Dybbuks, though. I’d only heard of the one.”
    Valeria leaned forward. “Other? Then you’ve come in contact with one?”
    “There is one poking around. Look, Valeria I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’d really like to see Peyton myself. Making sure she is okay is the only reason I came to New Orleans. Now...you find that you are somehow involved––”
    “You’re angry.”
    “Damn right I’m angry. In Savannah, I look all over for you, I ask for help and I get nothing. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Nada. The big, fat goose egg. Then I come here, wishing to help Peyton, and I receive the same warm and fuzzy welcome. Now I find you here and you tell me that the questions I need answers to have to wait until whatever the hell this is blows over, so excuse me if I’m a bit edgy.”
    Valeria studied Denny a moment. “While I do understand your desire for answers from me, right now, it is Peyton’s health and wellbeing that is on the line. Can we agree to table your questions about your mother for the time-being and keep our focus on the present?”
    Denny nodded. The Hanta was pissed as well. “It’s not like I have a choice.” Rising, she waited. “But I’m going to see Peyton right now even if I have to tear this whole house down.”
    Valeria rose and stood in front of Denny. As tall as Denny was, Valeria was slightly taller and held herself with regal bearing. “You are so like your mother in so many ways, rushing headlong into the fray