The Demon Hunter (13 page)

Devon looked completely at ease as he strolled through town barefoot. He didn’t even seem to notice the curious stares of the natives. The cut from the demon at the gas station had healed amazingly fast, not surprising. He wondered what she was, but she should have been demanding to know his true identity.

“I need to find someone… anyone who might know what happened to my family.”

“Family?” He had a family? How odd. She couldn’t imagine him with a father and mother, or as a small child with needs. He’d lived at Crestmoore once, had a life much less complicated, she assumed. A family life. Had they had dinners together at night? Had his mother tucked him into bed? Had he a wife?

They turned down an alley that was so narrow, she was forced to walk behind him. “I did have parents. Even a sibling. My brother moved here when he was young, newly married.”

His brother? Ellie glanced down at the skirts of her shift, still splattered with black demon’s blood, and grew oddly nervous. “We’re meeting your brother?”

“Not exactly.” He paused as the alley opened onto another cobbled lane.

Ellie followed his gaze. Across the street an iron fence separated the living from the dead. “Wonderful, another cemetery,” she muttered. “And your parents are…”

“Dead.”

Of course they were. He started across the road and pushed open the cemetery gate, the hinges creaking with age. Overgrown lawn, tombstones leaning precariously to the side, some toppled and broken. Yep, her very own horror movie. It was obvious the place had been neglected. The only living thing in the area was a gnarled oak that leaned toward the ground, providing shade for moss, lichen and other creepy crawling things to grow.

“No offense, but this trip is becoming rather depressing.”

He didn’t respond.

With a frustrated sigh, she followed Devon into the quiet cemetery, the hem of her dress dragging along the ground. What she wouldn’t do for a change of clothing and a nice, warm bath. “You know, this works both ways. You expect me to spill my guts, yet haven’t told me anything about you.” Devon, even though he walked bare foot and had yellow bruises marring his exposed arms, still looked like he’d stepped from the pages of a magazine. While she… she shuddered to think about what she resembled.

“Spill your guts?” He weaved his way around the headstones. “What do you want to know?”

How it is that you can possibly be so hot after all we’ve been through?
“Well,
anything
for starters.” Would he really tell her his secrets? He might seem like an open book now, but only yesterday he’d refused to divulge anything. What was he up to?

He paused in the middle of the cemetery. Slowly, he lowered to his haunches and brushed lichen from a headstone, almost as if caressing a loved one. “I’m not human.”

“Obviously,” she muttered. Still, it was a relief to hear him finally admit it. Of course she’d known he was something supernatural. Hearing the words from his lips sent a shiver of realism to this ridiculous episode of her life. A high-pitched cry rent the silent cemetery. Startled, she glanced toward the tree. A black cat sat on a branch above, watching them with large, green eyes. Just bleedin wonderful.

“So.” Feeling uneasy, she knelt beside Devon. “What are you?”

“A warrior, of sorts, sent to protect earth from unwanted spirits. We’re angels…if a bit fallen. Rafael’s Warriors.”

He said the words so casually that it took a moment for them to sink in. As if being a warrior was completely and utterly normal. “An
angel
warrior
?”

“Of sorts.”

“Of sorts.” What else was there to say? She was too stunned to speak more. Yet, she realized that his words weren’t exactly shocking. No, kneeling there next to him she realized that she was shocked because she believed him. This tall, gorgeous man with the face of an angel and the strength of a superhero, who could appear and disappear in the blink of an eye, could
only
be something supernatural. She sure as hell didn’t need to demand proof, she’d seen what he was capable of.

Lifting his hand, he traced the lettering on the tombstone before them. “Died 1902.”

Forcing her attention to the task at hand, she managed to ask, “Who is it?”

“My brother.”

Startled, she glanced back at the tombstone. She wasn’t great with math, but the date didn’t really make sense. Unless Devon took some really good anti-aging medication.

She shook her head, standing. “I don’t understand how—”

“Well, well, who do we have here?” a feminine voice drawled out, invading their private cocoon with her smirking tone.

Ellie spun around. There, standing nonchalantly at the open gate, stood a tall, dark haired woman with a wry smile upon her red lips. The long, black dress she wore made her look every bit the wicked witch. Devon stood slowly, not seeming surprised in the least by the woman’s sudden appearance.

“Terri.”

“Devon,” she drawled out. For one long moment they were both silent, sizing each other up as if preparing for battle. Not friends, obviously, but what? Terri started forward, her hips swaying seductively back and forth, the material of her gown practically shimmering over her body like an ethereal mist.

“Never thought I’d see you again.” She stopped close to Devon. Too close, in Ellie’s opinion. Frowning, she studied the dark-haired Snow White with the sexy English accent. “You’re back then, are you? Or…” She slowly scanned Devon’s body, irritating Ellie even more. “Are you something else?”

Devon’s face remained as arrogantly devoid of emotion as always. “No, tis me, in the flesh.”

Terri rested her hand on Devon’s chest. “The modern you.” She trailed her hand down Devon’s t-shirt. Ellie’s fingers curled as she resisted the urge to shove her way between the two. Reluctantly, Ellie could admit, at least to herself, that the woman was rather pretty in an exotic way. Did Devon think so?

“Who is she?” She didn’t glance at Ellie as she asked. Quite rude, indeed.

“Ellie,” she snapped, stepping closer to Devon. As a child, she’d wanted to blend into the background, craving normalcy. It was best to be ignored when you could do what she could do. But for some reason, here, now, the fact that they were discussing her as if they were discussing the weather, royally annoyed her.

The woman slid her a glance, wry amusement flashing in her dark eyes. “I didn’t mean your name, dear. I meant,
what
are you?” She stepped in front of Ellie, her attention scanning her form much like she’d studied Devon a moment ago. “You’re obviously
something
.”

There it was again. The never-ending question.

What was she? How many times were they going to go over this? In the states, no one had wanted to know what she was, thinking, perhaps, if they ignored her, it wouldn’t be real. But here it was the opposite.

Ellie looked at Devon, having had enough with this wicked witch. “Could you please tell me what we’re doing here?”

But he ignored her, the bastard, keeping his focus on Terri.

“You seem well enough,” Terri said, her inky gaze on Devon.

So that’s how it was going to be? Ignore the annoying American.

“How’d you come back?”

Devon shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know.”

She sighed, her smirk fading, her amusement gone. She looked rather irritated. “I suppose you want my help?” Devon nodded. “Then you’ll stay?”

“For the night.”

She spared Ellie one more glance, then turned and started toward the gate. “Fine, but only one night. Whatever you’re mixed up in, I want no part.”

Devon started to follow.

No way he was getting away that easily. Ellie reached out, latching onto his arm. “Wait a minute, what’s going on? How could your brother possibly have died such a long time ago? Why is
she
surprised to see you?”

He finally met her gaze. “We’ll discuss it tonight.”

“No! Now. I’m not leaving until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

He sighed, searching her face for something, but she wasn’t sure what. “I was born in 1750. The first time I died was in 1903. The second time I died was six months ago.”

Chapter 8

“Do you realize how many things are wrong with those sentences?”

Ellie latched onto his hand, her touch sending unwelcome heat through his body. He couldn’t think when she touched him. Devon shook off her hold and took a step back, needing to distance himself. He was becoming much too dependent on her. Shite, but it would have been easier if he had left her back at the estate. She was a complication he didn’t need right now. Not with Terri nearby.

“I do understand you would be loath to believe me.”

“Loath to…” She sighed and shook her head. “See, that right there… I don’t know if that kind of language supports your insane declaration or if it’s just fancy English talk.”

“Are you coming?” Terri asked. The witch leaned against the gate, watching them with amusement in her dark eyes. She’d always been that way…finding amusement where a normal person would find none. “We’ve much to discuss.”

Ellie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the woman. Dare he think that was jealousy flashing in her eyes? Why in the hell did the thought not repulse him? Oh, but he knew. He had kissed her. Much to his dismay, she did anything but repulse him.

“Who’s Elvira?”

“I don’t understand.” Not surprising, he didn’t understand much of this modern world and this modern woman. But then he’d never understood Ashley either. Perhaps that was why she’d chosen Cristian. He pushed aside the depressing thought, focusing on the woman before him.

Ellie sighed, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “Of course you don’t understand.”

He wasn’t sure if he should be amused with Ellie’s exasperated look, or annoyed. “The witch is my brother’s wife.” Without waiting for her, he started toward Terri, determined to think upon the mission at hand and not a frustrating woman who drove him to distraction.

“Witch?” Ellie raced after him. “As in Glenda the Good Witch, or the Wicked Witch of the West? Please tell me you’re not serious.”

He followed Terri onto a trail that led through thick vegetation, making sure he stood between Ellie and the witch. Terri might have been his brother’s wife, but that didn’t mean he trusted the woman.

“Yes, she’s a witch and the only person who can help us at the moment.” As much as he hated relying on Terri, he had no other alternative.

Sparrows, startled by their approach, squawked and burst through the brush. Instincts on alert, Devon reached out, attempting to discern natural movement from anything supernatural. Over the energy Terri and Ellie produced, was the soothing pulse of nature. Nothing else. Still, he didn’t relax. He doubted he’d ever again be able to relax.

The underbrush flared wide and Terri disappeared into a forest, her dark clothes blending into the shadows. She hadn’t changed since the last time he’d seen her, over one hundred years ago. Looking at her as she weaved her way around large oaks and maples, flittering in and out of shadows, he almost felt like he was back in time. But he could hear the planes overhead, automobiles in the distance. The world had moved on without him. Devon steeled his emotions. He would not think of the past. He would only focus on the here and now.

Twigs snapped underfoot as Ellie hurried to follow them. “You sure we can trust her?” she whispered.

“No, we can’t.”

She seemed startled by his statement, and actually paused. Although he had a feeling she’d had her powers since birth, he forgot, at times, that Ellie was actually new to this supernatural world. He’d been born into a family that openly discussed their powers and the supernatural. It had always been a part of his life. How alone and confused Ellie must have been.

“You can’t trust anyone.” It was a fact, of course. The sooner she realized, the better.

She lifted a brow. The fading light through the trees produced a lace-like pattern upon her face. “Even you?”

He stepped closer, so close he could feel her warm breath on his neck. He was trying to scare her. He didn’t want her to like him, he didn’t want to like her. He had no room in his life for complicated relationships. “Especially me. We all have our own goals and missions and we can’t let anything stand in our way.” Certainly not romantic attraction.

He started after Terri once more, knowing Ellie followed as he could hear the thump of her footsteps. Smell her sweet scent. Even feel her energy pulsing around him in tempting waves. The woman hadn’t the slightest idea how to blend in, how to quiet her powers so other supernatural beings wouldn’t sense her. She wouldn’t make it to her thirtieth birthday. For some reason, that bothered him. Damn it all, he shouldn’t get involved. He should abandon her and be on his way. So why did he keep his mouth shut?

The skeletal trees gave way and a small field came into view. Yellow and purple flowers fluttered on a warm breeze. A few lingering rays of red and orange peeked over the horizon. Darkness was coming fast. With night, came supernatural creatures best left to storybooks and nightmares. He had to get Ellie inside. She needed the rest. He needed the rest. He couldn’t protect himself, let alone her in his weakened state.