The Demon Hunter (35 page)

She frowned, refusing to answer his question. He knew as well as she that she couldn’t help who she was. She’d been born this way, curse or blessing, whatever it was.

Cristian glanced toward the foyer, as if to make sure they were still alone. “I won’t allow ye to sacrifice yerself.”

“Cristian, you’re the only one I can trust to think rationally about this. At least I thought you were.” She searched his face, but his features had become unreadable granite. Maybe she’d gone too far. “Just think on it. Please. If you don’t seem to be winning, allow me to help.”

“Cristian?” Ashley called from the foyer.

Ellie’s heart slammed erratically against her ribcage. He had to agree, he must. It was the only way to make sure Devon came back alive.

Cristian sighed and glanced toward the door. “And how do ye suggest I contact ye?”

“Just leave the door open. I’ll be there.”

He slowly shook his head. “This is a bad idea.”

“No, this is the
only
idea.”

“Damn it, if something happens to ye—”

“You probably won’t even need me. But I’ll be there in case. I swear I won’t interfere unless I’m truly needed.”

He paused for one long moment. “Fine.”

Ellie’s knees grew weak with relief.

Cristian moved toward the door, done with her. “Let’s hope for yer sake we won’t need ye.”

Chapter 20

Devon’s memory came and went, full of holes and confusing thoughts that left him grappling with his identity. But the one thing that remained quite firmly in place was the memory of the basement. Flashes of another life. A ghostly dwelling. Now, here he was again.

As a ghost, he’d been drawn to this spot, feeling the odd urge to stand guard outside that door, although not really understanding why. Once he’d become human, he’d finally understood. He’d sensed the demon buried behind that wall. Knew it was his duty to protect not only the ghosts that lived in the pub from being sucked dry of energy, but also the humans in the surrounding area. But he’d failed.

“Still there,” Ashley muttered, as they paused in front of the door nestled in the far corner of the dark and dank basement. She sounded almost disappointed, as if hoping the door had vanished and they could go along their merry way. Had it truly been less than seven months since he’d last been here? It seemed an eternity.

“Are we ready?” she asked.

He didn’t miss the way Cristian glanced over his shoulder toward the steps they’d just traveled down. Devon narrowed his gaze, instantly suspicious. Cristian didn’t race to answer Ashley, as he’d expected. After a few moments of silence, Devon’s patience wore thin.

“Cristian,” he said. “What is it?”

He sighed, finally looking their way, albeit with obvious reluctance. “Rose was here.”

“Excuse me?”

He sighed, raking his hand through his dark hair. “Ellie saw Rose. The old witch told her she needed to fight the demon.”

A tremor of anger passed through Devon. How could Cristian keep this from them? How could Ashley not tell him? “When the hell did this happen?”

“Right before we arrived in the parlor.”

Devon spun around and started toward the steps, but came up short when Cristian reached for him, jerking him to a stop. “She’s fine. Ye know as well as I that it was most likely a mirage.”

Devon jerked away from him, but his gaze remained pinned to those steps. Why hadn’t Ellie told him? Just as soon as the question entered his mind, it fled. He knew why… because she didn’t trust him. He wasn’t sure which angered him more, that she had kept such an important secret, or that she trusted Cristian more.

“She wants to help. Wanted me to leave the door open.”

Devon trembled with emotions he didn’t fully understand. “Too bloody bad.”

“I know. She’s not strong enough yet, but if ye go up there, anger blazing, she’ll only be more determined to do something. We need to end this once and for all before someone gets hurt.”

Without waiting for Devon’s consent, Cristian pressed his hand to the icon on the door. Almost immediately the door creaked open. “Let’s get this over with.”

Cristian wrapped his hand around the large iron handle and pulled the door wide. A yawning pit of darkness stretched before them; a corridor that led into the depths of hell. He could feel the low vibration of energy coming from that darkness. Evil energy.

Without hesitation, Cristian and Ashley stepped into the darkness. Devon glanced toward the steps, reluctant to leave without seeing Ellie once more. There was so much they needed to discuss, but neither were ready to be rational. He would merely make sure he made it out alive, so they could admit their feelings once and for all.

Sword drawn, Devon stepped across the threshold and into the dark tunnel. Anger and frustration only added to his determination.

No goodbye to Ellie. He didn’t dare look back. Not even when the door shut with a thud that vibrated the walls and sent the tunnel into complete darkness. It was over. Either he or the demon would come out alive.

“Light?” Cristian asked.

He knew it killed the man to have to ask for help and for a brief moment the realization provided some amusement. Devon lifted his hand and produced a blue fireball that bounced in front of them, chasing away the darkness and highlighting the gray tunnel.

“Make sure that door is closed,” he said.

Cristian nodded. “It won’t open without me.”

Reassured, Devon turned his attention to the stone path, but his mind remained focused on Ellie. Always Ellie. How dare she attempt to talk Cristian into helping her. The stubborn little empath. He shuddered to think about what could have happened, had her plan succeeded.

A reluctant smile lifted the corners of his lips. As mad as she made him, he couldn’t help but admire her persistence. He swallowed hard and focused on the dark tunnel. He would miss her. Whether he survived the demon or not, didn’t much matter. You couldn’t undo fate, and he was fated to return to Heaven.

“Once more unto the breach, dear friends,” Ashley muttered, following the glowing orb into the tunnel, a dagger in her right hand.

Devon gripped the hilt of his sword, his instincts flaring to life. The scent of mildew and damp stone invaded the narrow tunnel. The tiniest sound, the slightest movement… his powers would notice. But there was nothing in this pit of hell. Not even mice scurried across the floor. The ground sloped and his heartbeat accelerated, adrenaline pumping through his veins. The gray walls glistened with condensation, a long, dark tunnel that would lead to a large room. The soft drip of water from somewhere above and the slightest shuffle of Ashley and Cristian’s feet were the only noise. The tunnel turned slightly to the right… They were getting closer.

“What’s the plan?” Ashley whispered.

“No plan this time. They never work out anyway. ” Cristian muttered. “We merely try not to die.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” Ashley whispered.

The tunnel flared wide, the rough walls giving way to a pit of blackness. Even the scent changed. Was that sulfur? Devon paused, Ashley and Cristian on either side of him. For one brief moment, the entire world stood still. No one even dared to breathe. Slowly, Devon lifted his hand. The glowing ball of fire lifted as well, crawling across the domed ceiling, highlighting grinning, painted cherubs. He knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into the large room. It was quiet…eerily quiet.

Warning bells rang through his head. The light hit the stone coffin, there in the middle of the room, and for a moment he was back there… in another world, another memory. A world where he’d spent six, torturous months, although it had seemed like an eternity.

The heat beat down upon him, pulsing against his body, his brain. Devon didn’t dare move, but crouched low, remaining still as sweat slid down his forehead and dripped into his eyes, stinging.

Where was the bloody bastard? A red haze hovered in the air, screams of fighting, of torture, as natural as the song of birds on the earthen plane. He’d followed the demon here to this outcrop of sandstone, followed his trail, hoping to catch him, but he realized now that the demon wasn’t here.

It was a trap.

A tiny pebble skittered along the rocks, the sound like fingernails against a chalk board.

Devon froze, his bare back against the rough stone.

A low growl vibrated around him. How could he be so stupid? He knew without looking he was surrounded.

“Devon?” Ashley touched his arm, tearing him from the memory. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, a quick jerk of his head. He wasn’t there, he wouldn’t be… not ever again. Even if he died, he’d go to heaven… not that lost plane of hell. He took in a deep breath, pushing the memory aside and focusing on the now. He could practically feel the evilness pulsing around him, crawling across that domed room.

“Come on, ye bloody bastards,” Cristian muttered, searching the tomb. “Show yerself.”

Oh, God. Ellie.

Devon shook his head. He’d been trapped with the demon for months. He knew his aura. How could he be so stupid? “It’s a damn trap. The demon isn’t here.”

Cristian’s gaze jerked to him. “How do ye know?”

Devon turned intending to head back to the basement, back to Ellie. If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. “I know.”

A high pitched screech rang through the air. A war cry. They turned, placing their backs to each other and forming a small circle. The room suddenly burst to light, torches lining the perimeter. Through the blinding brightness, Devon could just make out dark forms rushing toward them. The sight was so startling that for an unseasoned warrior, it would have been terrifying. A legion of vampires, intent on feeding. He, fortunately, had expected the attack.

“Vampires,” Devon warned. “Ashley, holy water!”

The water wouldn’t kill them, but it would do enough damage to give Devon the upper hand. Ashley grappled with the water bottle strapped to her side as Cristian and Devon braced their legs apart, swords in hand, preparing to kill.

If Kipps hadn’t been upstairs, vampires be damned, Devon would have been racing back to that tunnel to protect Ellie.

“Now!” Devon demanded.

Ashley pointed the bottle at the floor and squeezed. A stream of water squirted out in a circle around them. The vampires reached the light, their leering faces coming into focus. With trembling hands Ashley started the circle of salt. Now that they knew what they were dealing with, they could adjust accordingly.

He did not think. He merely acted. His mind focused on the kill.

At least ten vampires came to a screeching halt outside the circle, three meters from them. Their pale faces leered, hisses streaming from their curled lips, those sharp teeth gleaming wickedly in the light. It was the sight of nightmares, but he’d dealt with far worse. Very little frightened him anymore. Their bodies were hunched, prepared to attack the moment the holy water wore off. An odd calm whispered through Devon. The moment had finally arrived.

“How much time do we have?” Cristian asked.

Ashley dropped the holy water and clutched her dagger. “Camile said fifteen minutes, give or take.”

He sure as hell wasn’t going to be down here that long. “Can’t bloody well just stand here, waiting,” Devon snapped.

She glanced back at him. “What do you suggest?”

“One of us lead them away.”

Cristian sighed, lowering his sword. “Wonderful, I’m sure ye have in mind who ye wish to be the bait.”

Devon grinned at the man who had once been his best of friends. They’d stared down worse than a handful of blood thirsty vampires. If he had his say, this wouldn’t be their last battle. “Nothing tastier than angel blood.”

“Jist bleedin wonderful,” Cristian grumbled.

“Guys,” Ashley whispered, her head tilted back, her gaze on the ceiling. “We have more to worry about than vampires.”

They followed her gaze. Dark shadows loomed above, hovering, waiting for their turn to attack.

“Brilliant, they brought friends,” Cristian muttered. “Witches?”

Devon nodded, his anger mounting. “Looks like Rose has friends.” He knew without a doubt that Demon was up there with Ellie. The thought sickened him, made him what to scream out in frustration. He would escape this hell, and when he did the demon would regret ever returning to earth.

“How could Rose betray us?” Ashley whispered, scooping up the water bottle.

Ashley would never be able to understand. She was young and human. “Her loyalty never was toward us. I’ll take care of the witches, you two take the vamps.” Devon shifted his sword to his left hand, curling the fingers of his right. “Ready?”

“As much as we’ll ever be,” Ashley replied, clutching a blessed dagger in one hand and the water bottle in the other.

“Go!”

Ashley lifted the water bottle and squeezed. Holy water sprayed across the pale, leering faces of the closest vampires surrounding them. They cried out, stumbling back into their fellow vamps, clawing at their features in hopes of lessening the pain. Cristian wasted no time. With a war cry, he rushed forward, swinging his sword. The blade hit a vampire, sending the beast’s head to the floor with a thump. One down, fourteen to go.