The Demon Hunter (3 page)

Miranda shook her head, the dark, silky bun at the back of her neck falling into a lopsided donut. “Nope. That’s one naked arse of a man.”

Ellie pulled the straw bonnet from her head and tossed it to the iron bench surrounded by fragrant daffodils. “Probably hazing from the university.”

She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. She resigned herself to sighing long and loud, thankful that their small tour of five was focused on the statue and hadn’t noticed the man stumbling around like a naked mole rat that had seen too much light.

As if she hadn’t enough to deal with. Lord Templeton was making veiled threats to send her back to America, refusing to renew her work visa. The old grump didn’t care for her “Pollyanna” attitude, as he’d called it. Apparently he expected her to be dour and bitter, like him. Perhaps she was overly positive, but when one had been through what she had, it was either curl up and cry, or laugh. She chose to laugh. But laughing now would certainly not help matters. No man liked to be laughed at, and certainly not while he was naked.

“What should we do? Call the police?” Miranda asked with a casual disinterest that said they’d experienced way too many weird things since starting work at Crestmoore Manor.

“Like we need another police record,” Ellie muttered. That would make five in one month. Just last week they’d had to call the cops because two women had gotten into a cat fight, claws and all, over whether ghosts were real or not.

Of course it had been her fault because she couldn’t control the crowds. It didn’t matter that it had been her idea to add the evening ghost tours to the house museum, doubling Lord Templeton’s pathetic income. According to Lord Templeton, they hadn’t had any mischief until Ellie had started work here. Yep, she was a troublemaker. Sadly, it wasn’t the first time she’d heard the word used to describe her.

Their naked intruder stumbled into a patch of moonlight, the eerie blue highlighting his body with a magical glow. Ellie stiffened, for a moment unable to breathe. No, not just a naked man, a
hot
naked man. So hot that she forgot her train of thought. Forgot everything around her, including their tour group.

Tall, blond, Nordic almost. He was like some Viking lost in time. Perhaps he was.

The man stumbled into the shadows, losing balance and falling into a yew tree, the branches rattling in protest.

Eloise cringed.

“Yikes,” Miranda murmured, crossing her arms over her mauve bodice. “That’s going to leave some marks and it’s definitely a shame. I might be a lesbian, but even I have eyes and he is gorgeous. Looks like that guy from that vampire show.”

She sure as hell couldn’t argue with that statement. Ellie glanced back to make sure the tour group was still enthralled with the small rose garden. “You get the group to the side of the house before they notice. I’ll take him to my cottage, see if I can figure out where he’s from. Call the police, if needed.”

They watched him upright himself, then spin around again, as if looking for the culprit who had pushed him. Yep, drunk all right. A typical, drunken college student. Eloise brushed back a lock of brown hair that had come loose from the bun she’d attempted. She supposed in a situation like this it was best to think rationally, but that was rather hard to do with a naked man fumbling around in front of you.

“You sure that’s safe?”

Ellie almost snorted. If Miranda had any idea of the things she’d come into contact with. One man, even if he was rather tall and muscled, didn’t frighten her. “I’ll be fine, but if I’m not back in five, call the cops.”

Miranda winked. “Or I’ll just assume he’s even better looking close up. If the cottage is a-rocking…”

She rolled her eyes. “Miranda Chin, he might be hot, but I’m not that desperate.”

Miranda raised a dark brow, giving Ellie a dubious glance. Her friend had made it clear upon many occasions that Ellie needed to get out more… date… get laid. But it didn’t matter how annoyingly blunt Miranda could be, nor did it matter that they’d only known each other for three months, Eloise still loved her like a sister.

Fortunately Miranda kept her impure thoughts to herself and instead, merely clapped her hands like a teacher attempting to gain the attention of wayward students. “All right, let’s move forward then. Hurry now.”

The crowd followed the swoosh of Miranda’s wide, mauve skirts, oblivious to the fact that there was a naked man behind them. As the crowd faded, headed toward the side of the building and taking their murmured conversation with them, Ellie edged ever closer to her target, cringing when her green gown rustled with the movement. Sort of hard to do a sneak attack when dressed like Cinderella’s ugly stepsister. Until she knew otherwise, she’d treat him like a wild animal… no sudden movements, keep a distance.

Still, she couldn’t help but study his lean body, appreciating the taunt muscles of his back, worried about the dark shadows that marked his skin. Bruises or dirt? As he turned, ever so slightly so the moonlight hit his back, the dark shadows burst into tattoos… wings. Startled, she actually paused. She’d never found tattoos sexy, but these were… stunning. He was like an archangel…fallen to earth.

Although the spring had been unseasonably warm, there was still a bite in the night air. The man had to be cold. The intruder latched onto the branch of a yew tree and paused, his back to her. His broad shoulders rose and fell with each harsh intake of breath. Confused, she stepped even closer. Perhaps he wasn’t drunk, maybe injured. Her annoyance shifted to concern.

“Hello, there,” she called out.

The man spun around, eyes flashing, private parts dangling.
Impressive
private parts.

“Oh…oh wow. Okay.” She held her hand in front of her face, peeking between her splayed fingers. Crap. Miranda was right; he was hot. Really, really hot. Firm, kissable lips, square jaw, straight nose…and sweat… sweat glistening across his forehead, down his broad chest.

She cleared her throat and forced her gaze upward. “You realize you’re not wearing any clothes, by chance?”

He moved faster than she thought humanly possible. Suddenly, he was in front of her, latching onto her arm and jerking her forward. In a dizzying whirl, Ellie found her back to his chest, one of his arms around her neck, the other around her waist. Pinned to his hard body. Stunned, she didn’t dare move. Thank God she wore so many skirts.

His warm breath brushed harshly against her cheek. “Who the hell are you?”

A tingle of awareness started at the tips of her fingers and toes. A familiar feeling she knew well. No. God, not now. She hadn’t had the sensation in weeks. Silly her, she thought she was outgrowing her odd abilities. Here they were, flaring to life now, of all times.

“I won’t hurt you,” she said, realizing how ridiculous he might find her words, considering he held her in a death grip. “Please, just let me go.”

For a moment he didn’t move and she thought she might have to scream for Miranda. Then ever so slowly, he released his hold, shuffling back from her. Ellie spun around, rubbing her neck where she could still feel the pressure of his arm. So, he wasn’t human? But what was he? He looked human, seemed human. Still, her body wouldn’t have reacted the way it had if he was human.

He breathed harshly, his lean body hunched toward the right, as if his ribs might be injured. Even in the dark she could see the cuts and scratches along the knuckles of his fisted hands. Although he looked haunted, ready to attack, he didn’t seem afraid. Boldly, his attention traveled her body, his eyes narrowing as if he found her presence totally bizarre. How odd that she should feel weird under his astute gaze when she was the one fully dressed.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded in a super sexy English accent.

Shouldn’t she be asking that question? Seriously, when had her life become an episode of life styles of the poor and ridiculous? If he wasn’t human, she definitely couldn’t call the police. She glanced around the garden to make sure they were still alone.

“Right, okay.” She stepped closer. He stepped back. “I don’t know what you are, but you’re naked and people generally aren’t naked outside, in a public place. Unless you’re like, at a nudist resort or something.”

He blinked down at her with ridiculously thick lashes that sent her heart fluttering. So unfair. Heck, maybe Miranda was right… she did need to get laid if this misfit was heating her libido. Maybe God had finally decided to smile down upon her and he was a gift from the heavens.

“You speak nonsense.” With those words, he turned and stepped onto the crushed stone path that led to the back of the large manor.

Maybe not. If he was a gift, she was so going to ask for an exchange. She parted her lips to demand he stop, but her words got caught in her throat as her gaze traveled down his back and lower. He had a nice ass. Really nice. Tight, muscled… Unwanted heat rushed through her body, pooling low in her gut. She shook away the insane desire. If he made it to the manor, her job would be over. Hell, her life would be over.

She gathered her heavy skirts in her arms and bolted after him. “Sir, is there someone I can call?”

He stumbled and glanced back at her, as if surprised to see she still followed. There, underneath the lamp light from the back stoop, she could finally see the true him. Brilliant blue eyes pierced her very soul, that face all hard planes and angles. But it wasn’t his beauty that caught her attention, no, it was the dark smudges she’d thought were shadows. Not shadows…dirt? Bruises? Instinctively, she stepped toward him.

He stepped back, continuing their dance of forward and retreat. “Call?”

She forced herself to remain firmly in place, although her mind screamed at her to do something. As much as she hated Lord Templeton, she wanted to stay here. She knew the area, she’d made friends. She was respected…at times.

If this—whatever he was— ruined her chances at a normal life, she’d… she’d…do something drastic. “Yes, call.” She reached into her skirt pocket and held up her cell phone, the screen glowing blue.

He looked startled, even took another step back. “What is that?”

Oh God, what loony bin had this guy escaped from? “Uhhh, a cell phone.” Maybe there wasn’t anything
special
about the guy, maybe he was just plain crazy and she’d imagined her body’s reaction.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking leery and hesitant. “Phone… yes, to call people upon.”

“Riiiiight.” Not just drunk, on drugs… or insane. With her luck, probably both. Why were all the hot guys crazy? Then again, she was standing there having a conversation with a naked guy, so really, who was the crazy person?

He gripped the sides of his head. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.” For a brief moment he closed his eyes and she actually felt sorry for him. “Yes!” His eyes opened, his entire face brightening. “Call Ashley.”

Ashley. A woman. The disappointment she felt was completely ridiculous given the fact that the man was insane. But seriously, how pathetic was she if even this guy had a significant other and she didn’t? She brushed the thought aside, scolding herself for such nonsensical ideas.

“Do you have Ashley’s number?”

His shoulders sank in defeat. “No.”

She felt oddly bad for him. “Her last name?”

He shook his head, a lock of blond hair falling over his forehead, and she had to resist the urge to brush it back into place. He looked like a lost puppy and she’d always wanted a puppy.

“I don’t understand,” he muttered, covering his face with his hands. Odd markings slashed across his forearms. Puckered, pink skin… burns. Her worry flared. He didn’t look well… pale and glistening in the lamplight, his muscled body shaking like a newborn fawn. Lord Templeton would be of no help. The old man would have him arrested before he’d call the hospital.

“I’m Ellie,” she said, attempting to put him at ease. “How about first we head to my cottage. I have some clothing you can wear.” And she’d call an ambulance, definitely call an ambulance. Whether he was
special
or not, he needed help. Help that she couldn’t give him. He lowered his hands, those blue eyes wide and haunted. A look that worried her, a look that said perhaps there was much more to his story than she’d assumed.

“Are you the housekeeper?”

She smiled, attempting to put him at ease. “Tour guide extraordinaire, actually.”

He shook his head, anger and confusion fighting across his features. “Nothing makes sense.”

“I know.” Her heart squeezed. “I understand.”

And she did. How many times had she thought the very same thing? Those many times she’d seen beings others hadn’t. The many times she couldn’t explain away an odd coincidence. The many times she’d been able to do things that a normal human shouldn’t be able to. She’d stopped trying to figure it out long ago. Now here he was, bringing up questions she’d tried to ignore. Was he someone like her? Confused and in search of answers?

“Do you have a name?”

He swallowed hard. “Devon.”

The kitchen light flickered on, splashing the yard with color. Ellie sucked in a gasp of surprise. The curtain over the nearest window fluttered. She could imagine what Lord Templeton would do if he found her frolicking with a naked man in his gardens. “Please, just come with me.”

The man before her didn’t move. With a growl of frustration, she grabbed his hand. The moment their palms touched, any anxiety fled. The contact of skin on skin was like a jolt of electricity that shot through her body. Startled, Eloise jumped back.