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

would not need it, but was glad it was there.
    Ames was right. This was foreign territory. The sounds and smells. The energy like the bass of a loud car stereo.
    Thump.
    Thump.
    Pound.
    Pound.
    The noise down on the street was relentless, as was the odor of fried foods. They seemed to fry everything here.
    Raising her hand to knock, Denny stopped as the door suddenly opened.
    “Oh...my,” a woman said, her eyes cascading over Denny’s lithe frame. It was impossible not to notice the obvious leering.
    “Hi. I’m Denny Silver. Cassandra gave me your—”
    “Yes, yes. Come in. Please.” The tall, curvy woman motioned for Denny to enter a small sitting room. The room had tan walls with high ceilings and eight-inch crown molding. Two cream colored sofas sat facing each other with a chocolate colored coffee table in between. Two bowls of candy sat in beautiful crystal perched on the table.
    Before Denny took her seat, the woman stepped right up to her like a dog getting ready to smell her butt. She was a good two inches taller and her blue eyes were riveted to Denny’s. “My, my, my. Had Miss Cassandra not threatened my very life, I might have taken a bite out of you the moment you stepped in. She said you were hot. She just didn’t say how yummy you are.” The woman trailed a finger down Denny’s chest. “Might be worth risking life and limb for a sweet taste of you.”
    Denny kept her eyes on the woman. “You’re Jeanette.”
    “And you’re delicious.”
    The air around them fairly crackled with energy until Jeanette slowly backed away.
    “Well, darling, if you know Cassandra, you know that as much as it would please me to have my way with you, it would be best if we conducted business before I lose all self-control.
    Denny remained standing. “Cassandra said you could help me locate someone.”
    “Let’s sit. Please. Lemonade?”
    “That would be great, thank you.” Denny sat on one of the couches and surveyed the room vacated by Jeanette. One wall was floor-to-ceiling bookshelves illuminated by the natural light streaming in through the large bay window complete with widow seat and black cat.
    “Here you go,” Jeanette said, handing Denny a frosty glass of pink lemonade.
    “Thank you.” Taking the glass, Denny watched as Jeanette sat next to her, their knees touching.
    “The black cat is for fun. You know, stereotypes and all.”
    Sipping the lemonade, Denny discreetly moved her knee away. “I’ll get right to it so I don’t waste your time. I’m looking for the demon hunter named Peyton.”
    Jeanette looked away. “The hunter prefers solitude and we respect that.”
    Setting the sweating glass on the coaster of tiger stripes, Denny nodded. “I understand that, but I think Peyton is in trouble. You need not do anything other than take me there. If all is well, then I leave. If not, then perhaps I can lend assistance.”
    “Easier said than done. I don’t know how you do things in Savannah, but here, we witches give a wide berth to hunters who live in the shadows. Peyton Farquar wants nothing to do with us. Those feelings are returned. I’m sorry, but I cannot do as you ask. Perhaps there is some other way I can be of service.” She fairly purred the last sentence.
    Denny sipped her lemonade then set it back down before rising. “I see. No, I don’t believe there is. I don’t want to be rude, Jeanette, but I think the hunter might be in trouble, and every minute down is one less I have to find Peyton.”
    Jeanette sighed. “Cassandra said you’d say as much. Even if I wanted to take you there, there is no there. The hunter moves from place to place, sometimes weekly, sometimes nightly. I can see if my sisters have any idea. Honestly, though, this hunter prefers solitude and takes issue with interlopers—and is as likely to shoot you as to look at you.”
    “The bayou?”
    “Perhaps. It is easy for one to get lost in there. Leave me your number and I’ll call if I find anything.”