Heartbroken but not alone, Denny Silver finds her body overtaken by an ancient force so powerful she risks losing herself completely to its dangerous agenda. As if hunting and killing demons wasn’t hard enough, now the demons are after an innocent, young girl whose Wiccan womb seems the perfect incubator for their hell spawn. Like Denny can just stand back and let that happen.
She can barely control herself or her demon these days, so how in the hell is she supposed to protect the world? Add to all this the fact that her brother now faces the death penalty for a crime he didn’t commit, her mother is a vegetable, and her little sister has been removed from her protection, and—yeah—it’s been one hell of a fucked up year for Denny.
Desperate, she seeks help from the last place she expected to look: the local coven. She knows their help comes with a price tag. Will it be too high to pay? Can they help her level the playing field in a supernatural world bent on destroying all she holds dear? Find out as Denny and her merry band of supernatural rejects attempt to save Savannah from certain doom in Demon Within.
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This demon fought harder than any other she’d faced. Maybe because he was of a higher level than those she’d recently destroyed, or maybe he just recognized the imminent threat Denny posed and fought harder to stay alive.
Did he underestimate her as so many others had, or just overestimate his own abilities?
It didn’t matter.
Either way, he was toast.
Like others before him, this one would die a horrific death––the proper death for an evil being.
Snapping open her sword-like chain whip called Fouet, Denny Silver stood with her feet shoulder width apart. She whipped expertly over her head and Fouet crackled and popped like a power line as it sliced through the muggy night air, spitting and sizzling as if alive and desiring nothing but the taste of demon blood.
Fouet was an amazing tool…a killing machine that could sever limbs and destroy any demonic weapon it faced, and this demon knew all too well what would happen if the razor whip managed to strike home.
And it would.
The demon dodged left, the chain biting off the top of his ear and part of his eyebrow; blood flowed freely from both wounds as he clamped his hand over the cuts and cursed loudly.
In her left hand, Denny held Epée, a scimitar-shaped sword that crackled with the same kind of electricity as Fouet. Both weapons were of ancient origin and had a slight electrical glow about them. They were sharp, shiny, and capable of shearing through flesh and bone without slowing down.
Ancient weapons for an ancient job.
As she brought Epée down toward his head, the demon lifted the bat he’d been using to pummel a gang member and tried to deflect the blow.
He was completely out-weaponed and outclassed.
| Language | Status |
|---|---|
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by María Emilia Ruiz
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