Blood of the Demon (The Silver Legacy Book 3)
Jeanette handed Denny her phone where she entered her number.
    “I appreciate this. I really do.”
    “Be careful, Hunter. This city has a way of swallowing people up. Trust no one. If you need a place are always welcome here.”
    Denny left Jeanette’s feeling discouraged. If Peyton moved often, it would be that much harder to locate him.
    Denny made a call and left a message before returning to her hotel room to don her hunter garb.
    If the witches wouldn’t help her, maybe the demons would.
    N ew Orleans was crawling with so many demons, it felt like a demon convention was in town. Everywhere she went, a flash of red eye here, a glint there. It was unbelievable the number of demons just cruising around or hanging out in the French Quarter.
    Unfortunately, they weren’t demons who could help her find Peyton. No, she needed those creatures who lurked in the shadows preying on the people weaker than they. She needed older demons––demons who would respect the age and power of her Hanta.
    Back to the graveyards and shadows she went. Bathed in darkness, dressed in leather, Denny climbed onto a twelve-foot tall mausoleum near the center of the cemetery and waited. She could hear Ames’s reproach about...what did he call it, gargoyle something?
    But she could find out a lot if she just stood still and listened. So she waited.
    She didn’t have to wait long.
    Four mid-levelers cruised by, not even noticing her as she squatted on her haunches like a catcher. Just waiting. As they sauntered through the darkness on their way to trouble, they were oblivious that tonight, trouble would be following them, anticipating who their victim would be.
    Jumping off the marble and landing lightly on her feet, Denny kept a good distance behind as they exited the cemetery and continued following the river.
    Once or twice, one of them would turn to look over his shoulder, but they were too cocky, too full of themselves to believe they were in danger. They never suspected that this would be the last night they’d walk the earth.
    Her Hanta would see to that.
    He was hungry.
    As Denny followed, she did a mental inventory of what she knew and what her plan was. Without pinning Peyton’s whereabouts down, she was needle-and-hay stacking it. She needed direction, a neighborhood, something to go on and she needed it tonight. If she didn’t get what she wanted from these thugs, she’d have to spend the entire night picking them off one by one until she got something usable.
    She had already left a scathing message on Cassandra’s phone telling her of Jeanette’s lack of interest in helping. These witches and their games were becoming tiresome and Denny had decided to back away from them all upon her return home.
    As great as sex had been with Cassandra, those booty-calls were becoming too obligatory for her. Denny felt zero emotional connection when fucking her—not like she had with Brianna. That wasn’t just hot; it actually touched her heart. As good as that felt, Denny knew Brianna had to walk away yet again. Cassandra would make certain of that, and Denny just didn’t have the energy to step into that ring.
    Instead, she would create the space and distance she needed from them all and work on educating herself about their world. Instead of fucking them, she would...
    Denny stopped walking.
    The four thugs had turned around and were walking back towards her.
    That was when she felt it.
    Reaching into her vest, she withdrew Epée and Fouet. With a flick of her wrists, they both burst forth from their metal cylinders to shine brightly in the faces of her opponents.
    All the demons stopped immediately.
    “I thought you said the Legacy Hunter had been taken care of?” said the kid with a tattoo on his neck, his eyes glued to the light of Fouet.
    Fouet wasn’t just a chain whip that could slice through living tissue. It was like a living, glowing snake, writhing from the tube, even when Denny stood perfectly

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