The Demon Hunter (8 page)

Ellie’s steps slowed. Hell, what would she do without a job? She had only one bag’s worth of clothing, so it wouldn’t be difficult to up and leave. But where would she go? She didn’t have much money saved. She couldn’t,
wouldn’t
return to the states, not after what had happened. The police might still be looking for her. She had been lucky enough to escape the U.S. Perhaps she could stay with Miranda until things settled.

Devon didn’t head toward the trail that led to her cottage. Instead, he caught the path that went to the back rose gardens. A garden overgrown and lonely, left to its own devices.

“Hell no,” she muttered. “You’re not leaving until I get answers.”

But he didn’t follow the trail into the woods and beyond to the road. No, instead, his pace slowed as he reached the small family cemetery. A rusted iron fence separated the living from the dead and a large oak tilted over the headstones providing plenty of shade where moss could grow and add to the eerie ambiance. Devon paused at the entrance where a gate used to be. For one long moment he merely stood there.

Curious, Ellie started after him. Twigs snapped unnaturally loud underfoot, but he didn’t flinch at her approach. Perhaps he’d known she was coming, or maybe he just didn’t care. At the fence, she paused next to him, clasping onto the cold, iron bars. She stood so close that she could feel his body’s heat, but he didn’t seem to notice her presence. He didn’t even look her way, merely stared at those gray tombstones that rose from the dirt like gnarly teeth.

The ancient family plot.

It had never creeped her out before so why was she hesitant to enter the space now? Devon’s heaviness hung around them like the fog drifting in through the woods. Yet, that handsome face was completely devoid of emotion. Not for the first time, Ellie wondered what he was thinking. Who was this man? Where had he come from? She knew only three things about him. One, his first name was Devon. Two, he had once lived here. Three, he was most certainly superhuman.

He stepped through the opening.

Ellie glanced back at the manor where the windows were now ablaze with lights. “Devon, we should go. Lord Templeton is most likely calling the police.” Sure, the man had been responsible for getting her fired, but for some reason she didn’t want him arrested.

He didn’t respond.

She stepped through the opening, the ground soft and spongy under her feet. “You could go to jail.” Even worse,
she
could go to jail.

Devon ignored her warning, weaving his way around the tombstones, about twenty in all, gently rubbing his hand over each, lichen crumbling to the ground like ashen bone. What did he search for? She knew he searched for something. Not just the sword, but something more personal. Toward the back of the small cemetery, he finally paused, barely visible in the shadows.

Ever so slowly, he knelt in front of a large rounded tombstone, the edges crumbled and decayed. The letters were too weathered to read from where she stood, but she couldn’t help but notice the sword carved into the marble facade.

A sword.

Startled, the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Her rational mind told her it was merely coincidence. Her instincts told her to grab her clothes and run before the police arrived, or worse, Devon dragged her even further into his mess. Yet, Ellie couldn’t seem to move. An inexplicable link tied her to the man who had arrived so mysteriously into her life.

Ellie started through the cemetery, dew soaking her flats and mist clinging to her skirts like ghostly cobwebs. She was going to get answers and she was going to get them now. Reaching his side, she lifted her skirts, sank into the damp grass and studied the headstone. Waist high, there was nothing out of the ordinary about the marker. A name of some sort, a date beneath that was too weathered to read. Narrowing her eyes, she leaned forward, focusing on the first name.

D E V…

A shudder of awareness whispered through her body. “Devon.”

The world around her seemed off balance, the air too thick to breathe. Slowly, she turned her head and looked up at Devon. He was pale, a fine sheen of sweat glistening across his forehead, his eyes wide, luminous pools of shock and bemusement.

“Devon.” She surged to her feet, stumbling back on trembling legs. “Is it your…your father?”

He met her gaze without hesitation. “No.”

Ellie’s heart slammed wildly against her chest. “Grandfather?”

“No.”

Realization hit her like a punch to the gut. She knew. Suddenly, she knew where Devon had come from. “Holy hell.”

Chapter 5

It’s not like he didn’t know he had died. No, he was quite aware. It was hard to ignore death when he had come calling not once, but twice. But there was something about seeing one’s own tombstone that did odd things to a person. His heart beat at twice its normal rate and the air seemed suddenly heavy. The chirping crickets that had only moments before been amazing, were now irritating.

“Please tell me you’re not a zombie?”

“A what?” Unable to stare at his name any longer, Devon turned and stumbled toward the fence, leaning on the rusty bars for balance, ignoring the strange woman who followed.

“You… you can’t truly be saying that you’ve come back from the dead?” she whispered furiously.

“I’m not saying anything,” he snapped.

And now here he was once more. He’d been brought back to life for some inexplicable reason. He didn’t know why, but he knew there was a reason. Twasn’t merely luck. He had to find Ashley, and yes, even Cristian. He had to find them because they were the only two who could help him uncover the truth. He clasped the sides of his head, his temples throbbing. If only he could remember where they were located.

Determined, he surged through the opening and into the grass.

“Where are you going?” Ellie demanded.

Her question gave him pause. Truth was, he hadn’t a clue where he was headed. Reluctantly, he glanced at Ellie. Damn it all, he couldn’t help but notice the way the moonlight kissed her face, giving her an ethereal glow. She had powers, obviously, and he might be able to use her to his advantage. He couldn’t do this alone, not with a memory full of holes.

But having her near him would be distracting, to say the least. Only an hour after he’d met her, they’d kissed. Hell, he hadn’t meant to, but she’d smelled so good. He’d lost control of his body, his emotions, which shouldn’t have surprised him. He was desperate for release, for a warm touch, for anything other than the pain he’d endured for six blasted months.

He raked trembling fingers through his hair. It wasn’t shocking that he should kiss her, but he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He started toward the drive, knowing she’d follow. As he rounded the manor, he noticed a small, gray automobile gleaming like a blessing from heaven in the drive.

“Devon, I demand to know what you’re going to do.”

“What’s your name? Your full name.”

She stumbled beside him, as if surprised by the question. She seemed caught off guard by his desire to know more about her and even in the moonlight he could see the confusion upon her face.

“Eloise Collins, but people call me Ellie.”

Eloise. An elegant name. It fit her. He pushed that thought from his mind and headed straight toward the automobile. “Get in, Ellie.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Get in.” He walked around the car, and with a critical eye, studied the monstrous beast. He was not completely stupid to the ways of automobiles. There was a vague memory in the deep recesses of his mind of Ashley driving. He knew a key was involved and some sort of pedals on the floor. Dare he try to drive? No, with his luck he’d kill himself before leaving the property. “You shall drive me.”

“Really?” She arched a sable brow. “First of all, this isn’t my car. Second… no.”

He swallowed hard, his heart thundering, his mind muddled. He still wasn’t sure what she was capable of and worried that if he challenged her in his state, he might not come out the victor. It wasn’t a chance he could take.

He might not be able to use force, but there were other ways to get what he wanted. Devon reached into the waistband of his odd trousers and pulled out the small pistol he’d found under the floorboards. A pistol he’d placed there for protection so many decades ago, and forgotten. A pistol that probably no longer worked. “You will get into the automobile now.”

She lowered her gaze to his hand. Although a pulse flared to life, jumping frantically in the side of her neck, she gave no other indication of fear. Brave girl. But he could see it there, in her eyes. Hell, would she scream? No, more likely try to fight him. He hoped not. The ancient pistol could go off with the slightest of pressures.

“I won’t hurt you, I merely need you to drive me to a small town near…” Where? He could vaguely remember cobbled streets and white-washed cottages. A town that could be anywhere in England. “South.”

“South?” She shrugged, doing her best to appear arrogant with disinterest. “I don’t have the keys.”

Nice try indeed. “They’re in the car.” He nodded toward the open window. He might not know much about this modern world, but he knew enough to know the keys dangling from a spot near the steering wheel would start the monster.

“Right, so they are,” she muttered. “I could always scream.”

“I could always shoot you.”

She narrowed her eyes, glaring at him.

He didn’t have any more time for chitchat. “Get in.”

She refused, folding her arms across her chest. “Does that thing even work? It looks ancient.”

Damn it all, did she have to be so stubborn? And did she have to stand there looking so bloody beautiful? The way her skin glowed like porcelain under the moonlight…the way her eyes turned to velvet pools. He should have been attempting to uncover the truth, at the least, planning his next move, instead he was drooling like a simpering fool.

“Want me to test it?” he growled, more annoyed with himself, than her.

Her eyes narrowed into mere slits. “Go ahead.”

She was pushing him, but he could see the unease lingering in her eyes. She didn’t believe he’d go through with it, but worried he would. Unfortunately, humanity remained in the deep pit of his core. Besides, at the moment, she was no threat.

“As one of my kind, tis your duty to assist me.”

Her brown brows drew together. “One of
your
kind? You mean, like, human?”

“I mean a
warrior
.”

She laughed. “A warrior? I’m not a warrior.”

Devon waited for the jest. After a few moments he realized she was quite serious. She was a warrior, wasn’t she? Her powers indicated as much and he sensed nothing else inside her being. Yet, he’d never known a female to be one of his kind. Perhaps things had changed since he’d died. Equality and all that modern way of thinking.

“Just get in,” he demanded, raising the pistol. “Drive me south and I swear you can leave as soon as I’ve reached my destination.” Where ever that destination might be.

She hesitated, glancing down at the gun. Lord, what did he have to do to convince this woman? His arm wavered, his muscles protesting. Soon enough she’d realize how weak he truly was.

The crunch of footsteps on gravel had them both turning in surprise. A woman with dark hair, wearing the same sort of large dress Ellie wore, froze when she spotted them.

“Hey, there you are,” she said.

“Oh God,” Ellie whispered. “Miranda.”

In that moment, Devon knew he would win. In that moment, he ignored the tiny bit of humanity he had left. He tried not to smirk as he shifted the pistol ever so slightly, refocusing it upon Miranda. “Drive, or I’ll shoot your friend.”

“Shit,” Ellie snapped. Without hesitation, she tore open the door and dove into the driver’s seat. “Get in.”

He almost cried with relief. Instead, he sank into the passenger’s seat as Ellie turned the key, the car roaring to life.

“You’re an ass,” she growled.

He didn’t bother to respond. He’d been called worse. For now, nothing mattered but leaving the estate. He was well on his way to uncovering answers.

“Ellie?” the woman called out, her footsteps slowing, her beautiful almond eyes showing her confusion.

Ellie leaned out the open window. “Sorry Miranda! I swear I’ll be back, just need to borrow it, okay? Will explain everything later!”

She didn’t wait for her friend’s reply, but pressed onto the gas pedal. The car burst forward, tearing down the drive, toward that lane and freedom.

“She’s going to kill me.” Right before they turned onto the road, she glanced in her rearview mirror, the unease in her eyes almost disheartening. Devon felt a twinge of guilt, but not enough to change his mind. Some things were more important than friendship, he knew that better than anyone.

“All will be well, Ellie, as long as you take me where I need to go. Drop me off, you never have to see me again.”

Her jaw clenched, her fingers tightened so hard on the steering wheel that her knuckles grew white, but still she said nothing. She was angry with him, but that didn’t matter. He rubbed his temples, closing his eyes and attempting to remember something,
anything
that might help him understand his past
.