The Demon Hunter (7 page)

“Yeah, give the insane man a sword,” she said under her breath. “Good idea.”

A soft mumble of conversation came from the hall, giving her pause. For one long moment they didn’t speak, merely waited. She flexed her fingers, attempting to ease the tightness of her skin. Her body wasn’t her own. Her entire soul seemed to hum from within. Until she could control herself, it was best to stay far away from others. The conversation faded as the housekeeper and Lord Templeton parted ways.

“If you help me find this sword,” Devon whispered, “I’ll leave.”

She narrowed her eyes, attempting to read his sincerity. “Is this some sort of weird pick up line? You ask me if I want to see your sword and drop your pants? Cause been there, done that.”

He sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the right time for a joke. “So where would this sword be located?”

He rubbed his hands over his face. He was exhausted. He might put on a good show, but it was obvious he was in a bad way. And by the way he’d rubbed his ribs, she was pretty sure he was injured as well. “I can’t be sure, but my first guess would be my private chamber.”

“Your…” But he was already walking through the door that led into the back hall. “Private chamber?”

She rushed after him. What the hell had she gotten into? She should have called the police when she’d had the chance. Being deported back to the U.S. would be better than being in this
I Love Lucy
episode gone bad. She darted a quick glance up and down the dark hall, making sure they were alone, then raced after him. “So, you’re saying you used to live here?”

He didn’t wait for her, but continued a steady pace toward the back of the hall where the servant’s steps were located. Weird, that he would know that. “Yes, precisely.”

Precisely
, who said precisely? And how could he admit such information in such a calm manner, as if they were discussing the weather?

“This sword was left behind when you moved?”

He paused on the first step, his hand resting on railing. The confused look upon his face didn’t bode well. “I believe so.”

“You
believe
so?” she whispered furiously.

He started up the narrow steps into the darkness of the second floor and because she had no alternative, she followed. They were chasing after a sword that
may
or
may not
be in the house? This was so not going to end well.

“And how long ago did you live here?” she whispered, reaching his side when he made it to the hallway. If he was lying, she’d catch him in the act. Hopefully she could uncover the truth before Lord Templeton uncovered them.

“A long time ago,” he said softly.

Was that emotion in his voice? The old floorboards creaked with each step they took, making Ellie cringe. As they started down the hall, Devon’s footsteps slowed. She was about to urge him onward when she caught sight of his face. His features had lost that hard edge, softening with an emotion that looked deceptively like sorrow.

“It has… changed,” he whispered.

She glanced around the hall, wondering what he could see that she couldn’t, what he remembered. She sure as heck couldn’t imagine him as an innocent child skipping down the halls of this dour estate. But whatever he felt was real to him. Hell, maybe he had really lived here. Maybe he wasn’t insane. Of course that didn’t explain why he had been naked or where he had come from.

Devon reached out and trailed his fingers over the wall. Lord Templeton had had the wainscoting removed and a fresh coat of dull beige placed upon the walls. The scent of paint still hovered in the air, but underneath was the smell of age. Slowly, Devon’s gaze traveled to the ceiling where new stained glass lamps hung. Brilliant and beautiful when lit, but dark now.

“Lord Templeton just had the hall painted.”

He paused in the middle of the corridor, as if he meant to hang out and reminisce. Ellie shifted in unease, worried Devon was having some breakdown, more worried that they’d be caught. “So, where was your room?”

Eager to get the man moving, she rested her hand on his bicep and urged him forward.

He pulled away from her, his face drawn in bemusement. Always flinching when she touched him. She tried not to be offended. But really, his hot and cold attitude was beginning to annoy.

“There.” He nodded toward the door closest to them. A door she’d never been through, but then that wasn’t surprising. Although Lord Templeton had no problem allowing the public to traipse through the gardens, he didn’t allow many into his home. She’d always found it sad that the old man was letting this large mansion go to waste.

Devon pressed the palm of his hand to the door and closed his eyes.

Time was certainly of the essence, but for some reason, the moment called for silence. Was he using some sort of powers to sense something? She hadn’t a clue what Devon was, but it was obvious he was
something
unique. He called her different, but he was the one who was different.

He reached for the handle and pushed the door wide. The hinges squeaked high and irritating, calling out in protest. Instead of eagerly bursting inside, Devon merely stood on the threshold, staring into the room where he had supposedly lived.

“We need to hurry,” Ellie finally said.

At her urging he stepped into the room, only to pause in the middle. Maybe it was all too much for him. Ellie shut the door behind them and flipped on the switch. If they didn’t find the sword here, would he insist on continuing his search? As curious as she was, she couldn’t let that happen.

With a sigh, she studied the area. It was a large room with a stone fireplace on the far wall and a four poster bed nestled against the opposite side. Nothing else decorated the room. Unless this supposed sword was under the mattress or stuffed up the chimney, and wouldn’t that just shock dear old Santa Claus, then the room was a lost cause.

But apparently Devon wasn’t one to give up. He moved toward the windows, his footsteps slow and unhurried. From somewhere down the hall a floorboard creaked. Ellie jerked her gaze toward the door, her heart slamming madly. Lord Templeton would think they were robbing him blind. The old jerk was always worried about thieves, as if he had anything worthwhile to steal.

“Listen, you’re way too pretty to go to jail,” she whispered. “So unless you want to be someone’s bitch, I suggest you hurry it up.”

Devon seemed unconcerned and knelt, lifting the frayed carpet that covered part of the dusty floorboards. He slid his fingers between the cracks of the boards and using his fingernails, lifted a plank unveiling a long, dark space, perfect for hiding something. Unfortunately, it seemed empty. She glanced warily at him, a million questions racing through her mind. How had Devon known the space was there? No way it was luck. Dear Lord, had he been telling her the truth? Had he lived here?

“Blast it,” he whispered, dropping the board back into place.

“It’s not there, Devon.” He didn’t respond, but she felt his disappointment all the way to her toes. It was as if his feelings were her own. Strangely enough, it was as if she actually wanted him to find a sharp metal weapon.

“I know it’s not here,” he said, standing. “I knew all along, I merely…” He shook his head.

He merely hoped. She knew the feeling well. When all seemed lost, one couldn’t help but cling to that small piece of hope. She actually felt sorry for him. She’d been running her entire life, jumping from home to home in her desperate attempt to hide whatever the hell she was. She’d rarely had time to form a bond with anyone. But for some inexplicable reason, she felt bonded to this man, whether she wanted to be or not. And he was bonded to his house, this sword.

Footsteps thumped in the hall. Definitely not the house settling. Frantic, Ellie searched for a hiding place, but Devon— the ridiculous man—stood with legs braced apart as if preparing to do battle. The door creaked open, a loud, screeching noise that raised the fine hairs on the back of her neck.

They were too late.

“Who is there?” Lord Templeton called out, shuffling into the room. His bushy white hair stood on end and his long robe trailed across the floorboards, wavering around his paisley silk pajamas. He was like a little troll playing dress up.

Ellie didn’t move, as if she stayed frozen in place, he wouldn’t notice her standing there in the middle of the room. The old man’s faded blue eyes fell on Devon first. The look of annoyance turned into a look of fear. Templeton sucked in a sharp breath and stumbled back into the wall. She didn’t blame him. Devon looked like a fallen angel who had just crawled out of the depths of hell. Lord, just what she needed, for Lord Templeton to have a heart attack.

“Sir,” Ellie called out, stepping forward. “I can explain.”

The shock gave way to an anger that made his jowls quiver. “No need. I know perfectly well what you’re doing here.” He pointed his knobby finger at her. “I knew you were a bad seed the moment I laid eyes upon you!”

Bad seed?
Really, that was overdoing it a bit. Ellie stepped in front of Devon, as if she could hide the big, blond God in the room. “He merely wanted to see the house. I didn’t think you’d mind—”

“Mind!” The old man roared, his hands fisting. “Of course I mind!”

He was trembling, practically foaming at the mouth.

“He used to live here—”

“But he doesn’t now!”

Ellie sighed. Why even try to save her job? He’d wanted her out for weeks now and he finally had a concrete excuse. God, she’d have to find another job, or be shipped back to the states.

“She’s lying,” Devon quite rudely pushed her aside. “She wasn’t merely showing me the place.”

Ellie’s mouth dropped open. Seriously? That was how he repaid her? “Thanks for the help,” she snapped. “So glad I risked my job for you.”

He didn’t even glance her way. No sign of regret or apology on his handsome face. Hands on his slim hips, he studied the area, looking from the ceiling, to the floor with a casual disinterest as if he was thinking of buying the place, or as if he owned the manor. His arrogance really wasn’t helping matters.

“You can show yourselves out immediately or I will be forced to phone the police.”

“I shall leave,” Devon proclaimed calmly. “As soon as I find my belongings.”

Ellie’s gaze jumped from Lord Templeton to Devon. It was the most polite argument she’d ever heard. She fully expected Lord Templeton to break out the tea tray at any moment. Fists would be flying, guns going off by now if she was in America.

“Your
what
?” Lord Templeton sputtered, looking quite offended.

“Belongings.” Devon started toward the door.

Lord Templeton scurried back, hovering against the wall in a puddle of sagging skin and dripping silk. “I’ll call the police! Help! Help! He’s…He’s an intruder!”

Devon sighed and paused as if annoyed, which was rather ridiculous considering the fact that they were breaking into Lord Templeton’ home. “The objects from the family who originally owned this estate…where are the possessions now?”

Lord Templeton clenched his nubby hands together, trembling so hard, she thought his false teeth might clatter to the floor. “You will leave!” he demanded.

Devon placed his hands on his hips once more. “Tell me now old man, or you will regret it.”

“Are you joking?” She shoved her fists into Devon’s chest. “You’re threatening an old man?”

“Sixty-five is not old,” Lord Templeton muttered.

She turned toward him. “Seriously? You’re worried about your pride now?” He shrugged and looked away. “Oh hell, just answer him so we can leave!”

Lord Templeton sputtered long and loud. “It’s gone. It’s all gone. Sold in auction.”

Devon’s arrogance faded, the emotions quite evident in his blue gaze. Ellie took a hesitant step forward, for some reason feeling as if he needed her. He looked so damn disappointed as he leaned against the door frame.

“A sword, did you see a sword?” he asked.

Lord Templeton nodded, his eyes narrowed. No doubt he was wondering if the sword had been worth more than what he had sold it for. “A man bought it. Scottish.”

Devon’s jaw clenched, irritation turning those blue eyes ice cold. “Cristian.”

“Who is Cristian?”

But he didn’t respond to her, merely spun around and moved into the hall.

“Devon, wait!” Ellie started after him.

“You!” Lord Templeton pointed at her. “Are fired!”

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”

She wasn’t about to wait for Lord Templeton to call the police, but ran after Devon. She couldn’t allow him leave, not before she understood why it was that he had come into her life so suddenly. Whether she wanted it or not, she couldn’t deny they were connected by some odd pull. His footsteps thudded through the home as he made his way down the side steps, past the gawking maid who stood in the hall.

“You’re an ass! Do you realize that?” she cried out, stumbling down the stairs after him.

“So I’ve heard.” He strolled through the kitchen and tore open the back door.

“Fired! I’m fired! Do you even care?” She pulled the door shut and followed him into the back garden. Darkness hooded his features, making them unreadable. He didn’t bother to look at her as he made his way around the building. Sure as hell didn’t apologize. She felt no guilt radiating from his body. If she hadn’t seen the emotion in his gaze earlier, she would have thought he was a sociopath with no heart or soul.