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

is. Until then, you and your handless wrists should be warning enough until someone comes to me with an answer. Got it?”
    “You’re way outta your league, Hunter. This is New Orleans, not some backwater town with piece of shit demons.”
    Denny grinned. “Savannah’s no backwater town butt munch, and the only league I play in is the major leagues where everything is for keeps, so you and your buddies stay at your own risk.”
    Denny retracted her weapons as she watched Tattoo slither back into the shadows. “Assholes.”
    Twenty minutes later, Denny was drinking a chicory coffee at Café du Monde and diving into her first order of the world famous beignets.
    “Already creating quite a disturbance, aren’t you?”
    Denny looked up from her powdery pastry at Jeanette. She had changed her clothes to something flowing and black. Her skirt moved even though she didn’t. Her red tresses hung in a single plait down her back.
    “I didn’t come here to play games, Jeanette, but if I must, you’re either on my side or you’re not. I have no use for gray walkers.”
    Jeanette sat across from Denny, trying to avoid all of the white powdered sugar. “Gray walkers. I like that.”
    Denny ate in silence, the powdered sugar dusting her lap.
    “I underestimated you, Hunter. Cassandra made it sound like—” She waved it way. “Oh never mind.”
    “No, what did she say? She made it sound like what?”
    “Like you were an ovis ad occisionem .”
    Denny set the half eaten beignet back on the plate. “A lamb to the slaughter? Hardly.”
    Jeanette looked genuinely surprised.
    “Took two years of Latin in college and my demon spoke it at one time, I think. Hard to tell, but I do seem to know better Latin now than I did.” Denny tried calming herself and the Hanta.
    “Cassandra was many things, but disloyal was not one of them. She should have known better than to fall victim to dyke drama.”
    “Well, as you can see, I’m neither a lamb nor am I going to be slaughtered.”
    “No, actually you are not. I’m quite impressed with what I’ve heard. Is it true you chopped off someone’s hands?”
    Denny finished the beignet and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “News travels fast.”
    “It does in the world of the supernatural, yes. I do not believe she meant it in a derogatory manner. I think she wanted to insure that I would keep an eye out on her lamb.”
    “Either way, it’s not really important. Look, if you aren’t going to help me find Peyton, why are you here? I have no intention of fucking you, and you already made it clear you and your coven were of no use to me, so what do you want?”
    Jeanette traced a finger over the back of Denny’s hand. “I must be losing my touch. I thought it was pretty obvious what I wanted.” Jeanette laid her hand over Denny’s.
    Slowly pulling her hand out, Denny reached into her pocket for a twenty and tossed it on the table. “Sorry Jeanette, but that’ll never happen.”
    “Because you’re hers ?”
    “No, because I’m not .”
    Denny got two feet away before Jeanette reached for her. “I do have a tidbit of information.”
    Denny waited.
    “All I require for it is lunch. When this is all over, have lunch with me. My treat.”
    Cocking her head, Denny nodded. “Fine. I can do lunch, but I pick the place and you keep your hands to yourself.”
    “Hard bargain, but okay.” Jeanette slid her hand into Denny’s and shook it. “Deal.”
    Extracting her hand, Denny waited again.
    “From what I can tell, the hunter was injured. I had one of our psychics try to track down Peyton’s energy, and all she said was that it’s weak at best as there is some sort of magical force in play. That’s the best I can do under the circumstances.”
    “So Peyton is still alive?”
    Jeanette nodded. “Sounds that way. Here is the card to Jocasta’s. If she doesn’t know about it, then it never happened.”
    Taking the card, Denny looked at it. “You’re telling me