The Ghost Hunter (14 page)

“Well?” Devon asked, moving away from Ashley and reclining on the edge of her bed. “Do you feel it?”

Ashley rolled her eyes, in no mood for his sarcasm. “Yeah, there’s a ghost.”

“Oy!” Camile grabbed her arm. “Where?”

“Well, he’s on the edge of my bed right now.”

She spun around to face Devon. “You can see him? Actually see him? How well?”

Ashley flushed, feeling ridiculous. She sure as hell wasn’t used to talking about her powers, especially with someone who was actually interested. “Yeah, I can see him.” She shrugged. “He looks pretty much like you, but maybe a little more…faded.”

Camile edged closer to the bed. “What does he look like? Can he hear us?”

“Bloody hell,” Devon grumbled, obviously growing exasperated.

“Yes, he can hear.” Ashley laughed, she couldn’t quite help herself. The man looked so sullen. “He’s in his forties.” She said it just to annoy him, when Devon actually looked about the same age as her. It worked.

“Twenty-eight, thank you very much,” Devon snapped.

She placed her hands palms out, feigning mock apology. “Okay, sheesh. He’s twenty-eight.”

“Is he…cute?” Camile asked, leaning closer to her as if Devon couldn’t hear when she’d just told her he could. How could she put her on the spot like that?

Devon quirked a brow, looking amused. How the tables had turned. “Well? Answer her.”

The heat crawling up Ashley’s neck shot to her cheeks. “I guess. For a ghost.”

Devon smiled, flashing a dimple in his left cheek. She hadn’t been expecting that. Ack, she’d always been a sucker for dimples. It was also the first time she’d actually seen Devon truly amused and it left her feeling slightly off balance, a little dizzy.

“How’d he die?” Camile asked.

Devon’s smile faded. He looked away before she could read his features. Guilt settled heavily in Ashley’s gut. She should have put an end to this conversation when she’d had a chance. As much as she wanted to know about Devon’s past, there was a part of her that would rather be left in the dark. She liked him and she didn’t want that to change.

She settled on the edge of her bed, a few feet from Camile. “They don’t really remember much of their previous life.”
 

Camile’s brows drew together. She looked confused. “So, why’s he here now? What does he want?”
 

“Good question.”

He frowned, floating toward the windows. “I was worried over your welfare.” He started to pace the room in ghost style, which meant floating back and forth. “I saw you rush from the parlor yesterday.”

Heat shot to Ashley’s cheeks. Oh God, when she and Cristian had been… What else had he seen? “I’m fine,” she said a little too quickly.
 

“Uh, okay,” Camile replied, her face puckered in obvious confusion.

Ashley shook her head. “No, not you.
Him.
I’m talking to Devon. The ghost.”

Her eyes widened. “No bloody way. You can actually talk to him? Like, have a real conversation?”

“Does she think I’m a moron? Of course we can have conversations,” Devon grumbled.

Ashley crossed her arms over her chest, growing more pissed by the moment. The man was completely uncooperative. Not to mention he’d probably been spying on her. She was sick of dealing with these ghosts and their attitudes. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

“Sorry,” Camile murmured, flushing.

She sighed. “No, not you, Devon.”

“Oh!” She nodded like she understood. How could she? Ashley didn’t even understand.

“I don’t trust that man,” Devon insisted and Ashley knew exactly who he was talking about. She found it incredibly odd that none of her ghosts felt easy around Cristian. Were they intimidated, or was it more? “Why’s he still here?” Devon asked.

“Because he, at least, is a paying tenant. And you need to give me something more concrete than you
just don’t trust him
.”

He clasped his hands behind his back and continued to pace, ignoring her completely. “There’s something there, I’m telling you. Something off about the man.”

In her opinion there was something off about everyone in this house, living and dead. “Well that doesn’t help.”

Camile raised her hand like a kid trying to get her teacher’s attention. “Um, excuse me, I’m a bit confused.”

Ashley resisted the urge to sigh. This was one of the many reasons why she didn’t speak to ghosts when living people were near. “My tenant, Cristian, Devon doesn’t trust him.”

There was no flicker of familiarity when Ashley had mentioned Cristian’s name. Instead, Camile still looked merely confused. “Why doesn’t he trust him?”

Ashley threw her hands into the air feeling rather vindicated. “Exactly.”

Devon glared at her.

Resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at Devon, she turned back to Camile. “We don’t know. You see ghosts don’t really remember their lives, so he can’t say where the distrust comes from.”

Camile drew her knees to her chest, leaning against the footboard, her excitement almost palpable. “But that’s amazing.”

Ashley sighed, frustrated once more. “Amazing, but not exactly helpful.”

“So they can’t remember anything?”

“They get vague feelings and they remember stuff that happened after they died but their memory is very sporadic.”

Camile stood and Ashley could practically see the woman’s mind spinning with possibilities. Dare she hope that Camile could help? “And so this Devon, he has a bad feeling about Cristian but doesn’t know why?”

Ashley nodded.

“Obviously I’m no help to you, so I’ll just be leaving.” Devon started toward the door, and annoyed with the uncooperative man, Ashley let him go.

“What if…” Camile paused, her brows drawn together, as if she were desperately thinking something over.

Devon
stopped near the door and glanced over his shoulder. Ashley had to resist the urge to laugh at his obvious interest. The ghost was just as intent on uncovering answers as she.

Camile slipped her fingers under the blue bracelet covering her wrist. As she paced, she slowly spun the bracelet round and round. Growing dizzy with the movement, Ashley looked away. With all the pacing her room was getting she’d have to replace the floorboards in a month.

“What if I could bring back his memory?”

Ashley’s heart skipped a beat. “Is that a rhetorical question? Because if not, I’d say that would be awesome.”

“There’s a spell,” Camile explained, clasping her hands together. “It’s usually used on…well, living people to help them remember things. If we tweak it a little, maybe we can use it for
Devon
. Maybe he’d remember why he has a bad feeling about Cristian.”

Devon
floated toward them. “Is she serious?”

Ashley could read nothing in his features. Was he interested or offended? If they could bring back
Devon
’s memory, who knew what she’d uncover. “You really think you can do it? Bring back his past?”

Camile shrugged. “I can give it a try. What do you say?”

Hell, she knew what she’d say. The question was, would
Devon
agree?

Devon settled on the floor next to Ashley. He looked leery, yet still gorgeous and her libido betrayed her with the ghost so close. She couldn’t help but slide her gaze up and down his form. He was elegant and lean, and she supposed he’d only be more gorgeous if he were in solid form.

With his gaze pinned to Camile, who was currently strolling the bedroom, he leaned close. “How many candles does she need?”
 

Ashley resisted the urge to laugh, unsure if she should be amused or as leery as
Devon
. “She likes it for ambiance or something. I don’t know.”

“What’s that?” Camile turned, her long Bohemian dress flaring. It would be a miracle if nothing caught on fire.

“Nothing.” Ashley waved her on. Camile turned back to her goal of burning Ashley’s house down and she turned back toward
Devon
, determined to be all business. “You sure you want to do this?”

He smiled, but it was a tight smile full of wariness. “Absolutely sure. Why not. Nothing better to do.”

Out of respect for his obvious unease, she tried to keep the relief from showing on her face, but feared she did a rather poor job. She needed to know about his past, it was her only chance for information. “Any word from Rachel or Bill?”

He shook his head. “Maggie’s gone back to hiding in the basement.”

Feeling as if she should at least attempt to comfort the man, Ashley reached out to take his hand, then paused, realizing there was no concrete hand to take. With a frown she drew back.

Still, her conscious would not leave her in peace. “You don’t have to do this. I mean, I have no idea what will happen.”

She said the words because she felt like she had to, but of course she didn’t mean them. If he said no, she’d do everything in her power to change his mind. Perhaps she was being selfish, and yes, she did feel the slight sting of guilt, but not enough to stop her from going after her goal.

He quirked a blond brow. “You afraid of what I’ll remember?”

She shrugged, trying hard to conceal the truth from showing on her face. Hell yeah, she was worried. But she needed to know the truth, no matter how difficult it would be. “We’ve all got pasts we’d like to forget. Maybe not knowing isn’t such a bad thing.”

He drew his left leg up to his chest and rested his arm on his knee. His ease and good looks didn’t hide the lethal man beneath. She’d noticed the flex of his muscles and the hard glint that came to his blue eyes at times. Who was this man? He certainly hadn’t been some lazy lord.

“I must know, Ashley. I need to know for myself, but also because something’s amiss here and if I can assist—”

“You’re talking to him?” Camile interrupted. She shifted impatiently, her gaze flickering to the area where Ashley had been staring. She was obviously searching for Devon. The candle she held highlighted her high cheekbones and only added to the eerie atmosphere. A shiver of unease whispered down Ashley’s spine. A warning?

She pushed the feeling aside. “Yeah.”

“Is he having second thoughts?”

Ashley shook her head. “Nah. He’s good to go.”

Devon surged to his feet and floated toward the window, his movement elegant for a man and a ghost to boot. “Well, it’s not like she can kill me, right?”

The words sent her heart racing. She didn’t dare respond. Who knew what the witch was capable of? Not for the first time, Ashley had her misgivings. What if someone was injured, or they raised some evil spirit best left buried? Ridiculous, they weren’t sixteen and playing with an Ouija board. Everything would be fine.
   

“All right.” Camile set the candle on the floor in front of Ashley. “We ready to start?”

Did they have a choice? Of course they did, there was always a choice. She could say forget it, she could return to the States and try to have a normal life. Or… Taking in a shaky breath, she nodded and looked at Devon. He shrugged, which she took for approval. Camile sat across from her and Devon moved just a little closer.

Camile held out her arms. “Your hands.”
 

Hesitating only a moment, Ashley grasped Camile’s warm fingers.

The witch glanced around the room. “Is he here? He needs to stay in the room.”

Ashley nodded. “Yeah, he’s here.”

“Okay, good.” She paused and took her lower lip between her teeth, indecision glaring loudly in the woman’s eyes. “Maybe we should take his hands too.”

Oh God, Camile had no idea what she was doing. Ashley frowned and glanced at Devon. They were relying on a novice witch, a woman she’d just met.
 
“That might be kind of hard as he’s not exactly solid.”

“Blimey, right.” She waved her hand through the air in a dismissive manner, as if the fact that Devon had no real hand to hold was an insignificant detail. “Well, we’ll just hold our hands out and he can rest his on top of ours. Would that work?”

Ashley shrugged. How the hell would she know? “We can try.” She waved Devon forward. He was easier to see now that the curtains had been drawn and the room dark. He was almost…human looking and for some reason that made her rather depressed.

She liked Devon. He was protective of her and it didn’t hurt that he was extremely attractive. But what were his choices in this life? Go to purgatory where he’d wait out a life’s sentence for something horrible he’d done? Or stay here as a pathetic excuse for a human?
 

Devon sighed and reluctantly settled between them. So they formed a circle… an American, a witch and a ghost. It sounded like a bad joke and probably would be.

Ashley rested her left hand out, palm up. Devon placed his atop of hers. A slight tingled made its way up her arm. She’d never had that sort of reaction when touching a ghost and she wasn’t sure if she should be nervous or amazed. She glanced up at Devon and caught his gaze. Could he feel it? But she could read nothing in his face.

“Is he touching us?” Camile asked, jerking Ashley from her thoughts.

Apparently she didn’t feel what Ashley felt with Devon. Bemused, Ashley nodded.

Camile took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Mother Earth and Father Moon, bring to us the Devon you once knew.” She pulled her hands away and picked up a bowl, sprinkling powder onto the candle. The flame sputtered, then flared so high Ashley actually felt the heat.

She flinched. Yeah, you could say she was leery of fire ever since her little basement jaunts with the red flames. Before she could voice her objection, Camile took her hand again, the warmth of her skin offering comfort.

Camile tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. “Feel the past, be the past, bring the past back to us. Let Devon remember what his life was like.”

Ashley looked above, but saw only a water stain on the plaster and she doubted Camile was praying to that.

“You sure she knows what she’s doing?” Devon asked, his gaze showing his wariness, a wariness no doubt mirrored in her own. Shouldn’t Camile be saying Latin or some language much more mystical sounding than English?

“Shhh,” Ashley whispered, glaring at Devon, even though she was starting to doubt Camile’s sanity.

“I think its working,” Camile said, her eyes still closed.

Ashley looked dubiously at Devon. “Do you feel anything?”

“Bored.”

She frowned and turned back to Camile. How long would the woman keep this up before she’d admit she hadn’t a damn clue what she was doing?

Camile started to hum.

The fire flickered as if an unfelt breeze swept through the room. Ashley’s heart jumped with excitement. Humming was good. It released cosmic vibrations into the air, or something. Ashley was sure she’d watched it on a show. Hell, her butt was growing numb. She’d just started to shift when she felt a sudden tingling in her left hand. She jerked her head toward Devon. His eyes were wide, focused on their fingers as if he felt it too. His hand, her hand, she wasn’t sure which, was turning a brilliant gold.

His gaze met hers. “What the bloody hell is she doing?”

“I…I don’t—”

The golden glow spread up Devon’s hand, higher to his face and down his legs until his entire body flared with the light. Ashley tugged her hand out of Camile’s grasp. “Devon, Devon, are you all right?” She jerked her head toward Camile. “What happened? What’d you do?”

“N…nothing!” she cried out, stumbling to her feet. “Balls, what
is
that?”

Ashley grabbed the witch’s arm, forcing Camile to look at her. “What? What do you see?” She knew what she saw, Devon glowing, but she wasn’t sure what Camile saw.

Camile’s gaze jumped back to Devon, she was trembling, her eyes wide with shock and fear. “A…a golden glow…like a human shape.”

“Devon,” Ashley whispered.

The light flared, heat pouring from this form in brilliant, blinding rays. Ashley stumbled back, taking Camile with her. But it didn’t stop. Devon arched, gritting his teeth as if in pain. Ashley’s mind told her to run; her heart told her to help him.

“We…we have to do something!”

“What can we do?” Camile asked.
 

“Damn it.” Ashley started for him when the glowing light burst so bright she had to shield her eyes.

Fear snaked through her gut, freezing her in place. She felt like she was in the basement again. For all she knew, it was the same glow. No. She wouldn’t let the flames take Devon or Camile. She stumbled to her feet and surged toward him again. “Devon!”

A low hum vibrated around them, a song from heaven. Ashley froze. She felt that hum pulse against her body, inside her body. Shocked and awed, she could merely stand there letting the wave of pleasure take over. Suddenly, the glow burst sending sparkling gold particles through the room. She stumbled back, lost her footing and fell on her ass.

Camile screamed but Ashley couldn’t open her eyes to see if her friend was all right. In fact, she couldn’t seem to feel her body in order to move.

Finally, silence fell.

Slowly, she became aware of her legs. The room was silent. Too silent. Ashley moved, testing her limbs. When no pain came she dared to open her eyes. The sound of her harsh breathing echoed through the room. There was no other noise.

“Camile? Devon?”

No response. Panicked, she bolted upright. Camile sat only feet from her, her mouth hanging open and her wide eyes staring unblinkingly.
 

“What is it?” Ashley demanded.

She swallowed hard and lifted her hand, pointing her index finger toward the windows.

Ashley followed her gaze. Devon sat there, looking as shocked as they felt. Relieved, she started to smile. “Oh, thank…”

Devon
shifted and Ashley realized something was off…completely and totally off. She inched forward. Gone was the shimmering opaque
Devon
. This new
Devon
looked solid, concrete. But no, that couldn’t be.
 

Ashley’s mouth fell open, mirroring Camile. “
Devon
?”

His frantic gaze locked on her.

“
Devon
!” she cried.
 

His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed onto the floor with a thud that shook the house. Ashley crawled toward him, taking in his pale face and trembling body. Her heart slammed wildly against her ribs, proclaiming the impossible. Slowly, she reached out and touched his cheek, warm and slightly rough from a day’s growth of whiskers.

“Oh my God,” Ashley whispered. “You’re alive.”