The Demon Hunter (27 page)

Ellie narrowed her eyes, glaring at the witch.

Instinctively Devon wanted to reprimand Rose, especially when he saw the flush of annoyance that spotted Ellie’s cheeks. But he knew the old woman was only trying to protect Ellie. Besides, she was right. Who the hell knew if he’d be around much longer; he couldn’t leave her vulnerable. Devon took in a deep breath, relaxing, allowing his energy to flow free.

He thought about last night and taking Ellie by the pond, the silver glow of the moonlight on her porcelain skin. He thought about touching her warm body, kissing her full lips, having her completely. He knew it had been wrong, but damn it all, he couldn’t stop himself. If he was going to die when this was all over, he’d wanted to have her one last time.

“Do ye feel his power?” Rose asked.

Ellie nodded, her gaze on him.

Yes, he knew it had been selfish, taking her. He knew how attached they’d become although he’d tried his damnedest not to have feelings for the little empath. He could admit, at least to himself, he cared for Ellie. His jaw clenched, emotions he hadn’t felt before welling within, feelings he wasn’t sure he wanted to decipher. He’d cared for his wife, but never like this. Never before would he have given up his abilities for a chance at life with a woman.

“Now,” Rose said, “Throw those emotions back at him!”

Before Devon could prepare himself, he felt a push, subtle, but enough to surprise him. He stumbled, slightly off balance. Hell, she’d done it. Devon’s surprised gaze met Ellie’s. She seemed just as shocked as he.

Rose chuckled, her wrinkled face scrunched into a delighted grin. “Ye felt it, didn’t ye?”

Devon nodded slowly. “I did.”

“Bloody brilliant, it is.” Rose clapped her hands together, looking much like a child on Christmas morn. “Ye threw his powers back! Now we need to practice repelling more than one person!”

Ellie smiled hesitantly, shifting an uneasy glance from Rose to Devon.

“She can throw back one, but can she protect herself against two?” Rose asked. “Call Kipps or John, see if—”

“Maybe I can help,” a familiar voice called out cheerfully.

Surprised, Devon spun around to see Camile standing there, her smile brilliant against her dark skin. A variety of emotions bombarded him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about seeing the witch. His gut clenched, instincts wavering in indecision. They’d been friends months ago, yet she was the reason the spells hadn’t worked. Blast it all, he wasn’t sure if he could trust her any longer. He wasn’t sure who he could trust.

“Camile,” Devon called out by way of greeting, his voice hard, colder than he’d intended.

Her smile faltered, as she felt the bite of his response. “Aunt Rose.” She turned her brilliant smile toward the old witch. Rose nodded in greeting, the most emotion she could apparently muster for her niece. “How are you?”

The old woman grunted in response.

But it wasn’t Camile who held his interest, it was the woman behind her.

“Miranda?” Ellie whispered, her face pale with shock.

Devon narrowed his eyes, his entire body stiffening. The woman seemed vaguely familiar. He raked his brain until Crestmoore Manor appeared. The woman had been at the house with Ellie when he’d appeared. They’d stolen her car.

“Miranda!” Ellie raced by him, only to hesitate once she reached her friend.

Camile returned her attention to him. “Devon, it’s so good to see you. We were worried, so Ashley sent me to find you—”

“I know,” he interrupted.

They were silent for a moment, each watching the other warily. Was that surprise in her eyes, or guilt? He forced his body to relax, forced his lips to turn up slightly into a smile. But apparently he wasn’t good at hiding his emotions because she continued to frown.

“How’d you get here?” Ellie asked Miranda. She was nervous around her friend and he didn’t blame her. They had stolen her automobile, after all.

Miranda shook her head, a variety of emotions rolling across her petite face. Bemusement, confusion, annoyance and relief. There was nothing supernatural about the Asian woman. Pure human.

“I came with Camile. I wasn’t about to allow her to leave without me.” She slid Devon a glare. “I saw him take you by gunpoint, Ellie.”

“I know.” Ellie glanced his way. “But it’s okay now. I didn’t mean to take your car. I…had to.”

Miranda gave her a half smile, taking her hands. “It’s okay. I know why.”

Ellie pulled back, obviously as stunned as Devon, although he did his best not to show his emotions. “Know what?” Ellie asked.

“Yes, pray tell,” Devon casually added, turning his hard gaze to Camile. “What does she know?”

Camile flushed with pure guilt. “I had to tell her!”

Devon lost control, his anger flaring to life. It was one thing to betray him, but he’d be damned if he’d allow anyone to put Ellie in danger. “No, you didn’t have to do anything. You didn’t have to do the damn spell, you didn’t have to tell an outsider our secrets.”

“Devon,” Ellie warned. “She’s not an outsider. We can trust her.”

Devon released a harsh laugh and turned away from the trio, moving to the edge of the woods. “Can we?” Women were all the same, so trusting. So willing to believe in the good of others. Didn’t Ellie realize what was out there? Did she not understand she must be on constant guard?

“I…I don’t know everything, obviously,” Miranda said. “I don’t really understand most of what Camile has told me, but I promise you can trust me.”

Devon shook his head. That’s what they all said, until it came down to life or death. Miranda had no powers. What use was she? She’d be dead five minutes into battle. He raked his hands through his hair. Damn it all, he had too many people he was responsible for, too many lives at stake.

“Come on.” Ellie slipped her arm through her friends. With a pointed glance at Devon that told him exactly what she thought of his unfriendly attitude, she led the woman toward the pub. “I’ll explain as much as I can.”

Rose sighed, scooping up her bag. “Time for tea.” She waddled toward the path that led to her cottage, obviously going to be of no help. “Ye coming, Camile?”

“Later.”

“Suit yerself.”

She disappeared into the trees and Devon and Camile were alone. He was bloody exhausted. He didn’t want to deal with Camile at the moment. He was here for a reason. He had a job to do on this earth. Always. Yet, Camile had brought him to life, he should be thankful. So why couldn’t he shake off the nagging sensation that something wasn’t adding up?

“Devon, I swear to you,” Camile said, her voice catching. “I did the spell right.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, wanting to believe her, yet finding it difficult. She’d messed up twice, both times while bringing him back. Perhaps it wasn’t an accident. “Then what happened?”

“Bad luck?” She shrugged, sighing. “Or maybe he’s just too powerful.”

“Or maybe you’re a novice, Camile.”

The woman’s hazel eyes flashed with pain. “Devon, don’t. We need to stick together.”

He stepped closer to her, his anger mounting. “No. You need to hear the truth. You’ve been dabbling in things you don’t understand far too long. Rose needs to rein you in before someone is killed…again.”

“I’m not a dog who needs to be put on a leash!” she snapped. But just as quickly as her anger came, it wavered, her lower lip quivering with emotion. “I promise you, I’ve done my best.”

He hardened his heart. He didn’t trust her, and at this point, there was no room for mistakes. “Sometimes our best isn’t enough.” Dismissing her, he turned and started toward the pub.

“Devon, please, we need to talk.”

“No, what I need to do is locate Cristian and Ashley so I can find my bloody sword and uncover the truth once and for all.”

And if that truth led to Camile’s guilt, God help her.

Chapter 15

“Ashley,” Cristian’s deep voice pulled her from the muddiness of slumber.

Vaguely, she was aware of the hum of the car as he slowed. Her lashes fluttered up, the rays of the early morning sun momentarily blinding her. The flatter lands of England had given way to the mountains of Scotland. Gray-green mountains cloaked in magical white mist. A patch of silver lake followed the curvy road, spreading wider, wider into a loch of some sort. It was beautiful, breathtaking. And it was completely where Cristian belonged. He’d always seemed too wild, too strong for their refined English town.

She glanced at him, the silver shades he wore hiding his gaze. With his eyes covered, she couldn’t read his thoughts. That square jaw remained stubbornly set, his lips in a firm line that told her nothing.

“Did you try calling Rose?”

“It wouldn’t go through,” Cristian said. “Probably the mountains interfering.”

“How much further?” she asked, stretching as much as the confines of the car would allow.

“Just over the hill.”

“Already?” Damn him, he should have woken her sooner. How was she supposed to fight a demon with a muddled mind? They crested a hill and below the sun burst into view, outlining the dark shape of a castle. Lord, it looked like some fairy tale come to life.

Stunned, Ashley leaned as far forward as the seatbelt would allow. “You lived
here
?”

He gave her a half smile. “Aye.”

“It’s…beautiful.”

“It’s bloody cold, drafty, damp and moldy.”

She slid him a wry glance. “You’re
so
romantic.”

He grinned. “It’s why ye love me.”

Indeed, she’d fallen in love with the former angel. And every month that went by, she fell even harder. She reached out, slipping her fingers through his. For six months they’d lived a relatively peaceful life, but in the background was always the thought of Devon and the demon. They couldn’t have a real life until the demon was dead. And she so desperately wanted a real life.

She gave him a wavering smile. “So what’s the plan? We bust in, guns blazing?”

Cristian turned onto a narrow driveway and her heart slammed erratically in her chest. They were close, so close to what could be their demise. She stared at that large gray beast of a castle, the two towers at the front, the arched windows covered with wooden shutters. It was the perfect setting for a monstrous battle. Of course Cristian looked at ease, nothing bothered him.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” he said.

Confused, she glanced at him. “Knock politely then?”

He stopped the car and she waited impatiently for him to answer.

“Nope. No need.”

She returned her attention to the castle. A shiver of unease raced over her skin. Something was in there, she could feel it. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“He’s not here.” Cristian tossed his sunglasses to the dashboard, pushed open his door and stepped outside. For one moment she merely sat there staring at the castle in shock. He wasn’t there? She hated to admit she was slightly relieved. Cristian opened the back door and pulled out the sword resting on the back seat. If the demon wasn’t here, why was he arming himself?

Ashley shoved her door open, scampering outside to follow him. “How do you know?”

“I can sense it.” He started toward the castle, his black boots crunching the gravel that covered the path.

Ashley sighed, unsure if she should be annoyed, relieved or confused. “You know, sometimes it would be nice to have a boyfriend a little less romance novel like.”

He glanced back, lifting a dark brow in question as he shoved the sword into the sheath strapped to his back.

“You know… secretive…brooding.”

“I am not brooding.” Wearing a black sweater, jeans that showed off his tight ass and muscled legs, that dark hair, that scruff along his cheeks… not to mention the sword strapped to his back… Yeah, so not a hero. She almost laughed.

She caught up to him at the steps. “So why are we still here? I mean, I understand if you want to see your childhood home, but isn’t it important we find the demon first?”

“He left something behind for us.” He started up the steps, only to pause and glance back at her. “You might want to stay in the car.”

Her stomach dropped to her toes. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He sighed and pushed the door wide. “Ye’ll see.” It opened easily under his touch, the hinges creaking high and irritating.

“Does no one grease their hinges in this country?” She peeked into the grand foyer. A massive wooden chandelier with candles hung above a stone floor.

“Ye sure ye want to go in?”

“If you are, I…” Her voice faded as she stepped into the foyer. Despite the cleanliness of the space, something smelled off…like food that had been left to rot. “Oh God.”

She pressed her palm to her nose and swallowed hard. The walnut staircase that curved up the gray stone wall was polished. The runner on the floor clean. To her left she could see a parlor of some sort with a sofa and wing backed chairs. And to her right, some sort of library where shelves were lined with books. No dust, no dirt upon the floors. Someone lived here. Or at least… had.