The Ghost Hunter (19 page)

“Aww!” she cried out and tried to jerk her hand back, but Cristian held it captive. She looked more than shocked, she looked betrayed.

“I command ye tae leave in the name of God.” He grasped her wounded hand to his, the contact stinging his cut. Their blood mixed, then dripped into the stone bowl. He knew the portal was closing, he was vaguely aware of the shift in energy. But he wasn’t concerned with the portal. No, he was too mesmerized by the feel of her blood, her life’s energy, surging into his body, flowing through his veins.

“Haven’t you ever heard of diseases?” she hissed, jerking on her hand once more.
 

He wouldn’t release his hold until he was sure she had his blood in her as well. The mixture in the bowl hissed and bubbled, resisting the power. When he felt her completely in his body as if her soul and his had merged, when she’d grown quiet, staring oddly at their hands and he knew she felt him inside her, only then did he release her hand. The spell broken, she jerked back, cradling her palm against her chest and stared at him with a look of equal parts horror and confusion on her face.

He tore his attention from her and stared at the ceiling. “In the name of God, I command ye tae leave. I command the portal tae close.”

The room trembled and the lights flickered. The mattress shook like it was a bed from a seedy motel and someone had put a quarter in it. What was done, was done. He would feel no guilt. Ashley had refused to leave this town and so he’d done what he had to do to help her survive.

Cristian jumped to his feet, unfolding his tall body and holding his arms wide like Moses parting the Red Sea. “I command ye in the name of God tae leave an’ never return.”

Wind rushed through the room, pulling at their clothes and hair. Still holding her hand to her chest, Ashley stumbled to her feet. He felt her terror surge through his body, but he couldn’t comfort her. He couldn’t explain. At least not until it was completely over.

“In the name of God, I command ye tae leave.”

The wind howled and pushed her into him. Yes, he should have pushed her back. Instead he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, his body her only anchor in this insane ocean. He wasn’t sure how long the wind tore at them, but just as suddenly as it had arrived, it was gone and the room fell silent. The only sound was the thump of her heart against his chest. She was the first to move.

Slowly, she pushed away and tilted her head back, her fingers curling into his t-shirt. “Please tell me it’s done.”

His body remained rigid even when he told himself that she merely held onto him because she was scared. Hell, he hated himself for wanting her. “It’s done. It’s closed.” He stepped back, away from her, trying to keep his distance, which was proving harder each day. His gaze was cold and direct. “And the next time ye get a ridiculous idea tae do magic, remember what happened here.”

He was taking his anger out on her. He knew that, didn’t care. Self-preservation urged him to leave. He leaned down and snatched up his sword. Without another word he started toward the door.

“Wait!” she called out.

He paused, bloody hell if he didn’t, and glanced back. In those hazel eyes he could see the fear fighting with anger. Her anger won out. “You could have warned me you were going to cut off my hand.”

“If I would have warned ye, ye wouldn’t have let me. Besides, I was a bit preoccupied at the time trying to clean up yer mess. So ye’ll have tae forgive my lack of manners.” He turned, disappearing into the hall.

“Well…what about disease?” she demanded, coming after him. “You could have given me something!”

He laughed. “I don’t get diseases and I’m immune to anything you might have.”

She paused and he made the mistake of looking back. “Well…I don’t…have anything, that is.”

He pushed open his bedroom door. His cut was throbbing. Her hot blood pulsing through his veins was foreign and his body wasn’t sure what to do with her sudden invasion. Hell, now he’d never be rid of her.
 

“So it’s okay now?” she asked, pausing outside his door. “The poltergeist won’t return?”

He sighed loud and long. Inside his room, he glanced back. “As long as ye don’t do anything stupid, they won’t come back. Get yer rest. Yer going tae need it.” He closed the door in her face. He moved toward the center of his room and pulled off his t-shirt, smeared with the blood from his cut…her cut…he wasn’t sure whose. Damn he was tired. Exhausted with the emotions, exhausted with this world.

The door was thrown wide. “Umm, excuse me. I don’t think we’re done…” Slowly, she took in his naked torso.

He tossed his t-shirt to the bed. “What?” He turned to face her.

She looked away, her cheeks flushing. “You…you just said I’m going to need to rest. What the hell does that mean?”

He started toward her. If ignoring her wouldn’t work, he’d scare her with the truth. “Ye feel it. Ye know it’s here.”

“What?” Her voice came out breathless and she was still avoiding his gaze.

He lifted his arm, stabbing his finger toward the hall. “In the basement, behind that door. When it’s released, all hell’s going to break loose.”

Slowly she lifted her gaze to his. She was doing her damnedest to appear calm, but he could see the fear lurking in her hazel eyes. “Why’s it going to be released? What do you know, Cristian?”

He smiled, a slow, wicked smile. “It’s coming soon. I know that much. And when it’s released, I’ll be ready, will ye?”

She ignored his question. She was trembling, her face pale. “What is it?”

He stepped back, still smiling. “A demon.”

“A…demon?” She flattened her palm to her chest as if trying to keep her heart inside.

His gaze swept over her. “That’s right, my sweet. A real, bloody demon who would kill ye just as soon as look at ye.”

She was silent for one long moment. “You’re telling me that in the basement of my pub, there’s a…a demon?”

Finally, the truth was coming out and damn it all, if he wasn’t relieved. “Aye. An’ he’s going tae play soon, so ye’d best be prepared.”

“What the hell happened to you?” Devon roared from the doorway.

Ashley spun around to face the man. Devon was looking toward her chest where she held her bloodied hand, her white t-shirt soaked red.

“Nothing…I…”

“I did it,” Cristian said, moving closer to her. He’d take the former ghost’s ire. He’d welcome the fight. “Got a problem with that?”

“He had to.” She stepped in front of
Devon
just as he started forward. “He helped me close the portal.”

Devon
’s jaw clenched and unclenched and for a moment Cristian thought he’d spring.
Devon
wasn’t sure whether to believe Ashley and Cristian or not. But in the end, he knew Cristian wasn’t a liar. A murderer, perhaps, but not a liar.

“Go on then.” Cristian gave them a little wink. “Have fun ye two. And like I said, rest while ye can, yer going tae need yer energy.” He closed the door in their faces.

“What the bloody hell did he mean? What were you doing?”
Devon
demanded, his footsteps quick as he raced to catch up with her.

Ashley rolled her eyes heavenward and continued her speed walk to Rose’s cottage. She just wanted to get there and ask the old woman about the damn demon who supposedly lived in her basement. She didn’t feel like reliving the evening’s events and that’s just what Devon wanted; details. She’d come here to uncover her father’s whereabouts, not battle with ghosts and demons.

“Damn it, Ashley.” His finger’s bit into her upper arm and he spun her around. Even in his weakened state, his grip was strong, bruising almost.

“Aww,” she cried out, jerking away. “What’s your problem?” She rubbed the injured limb and glared up at him.

His face twisted, anger fighting with control. For the briefest of moment’s he closed his eyes. Finally, he looked at her, his blue gaze calm, once again the
Devon
she knew. “I’m sorry. I…tis everything.”

She sighed, her anger dissipating. Of course he had a right to know what was going on. The man had been forced back to life, forced back into a world he barely knew. She understood what it was like to be in the dark. “It’s all right. We, Cristian and I, closed the portal.”

His eyes flashed, that anger back as quickly as it had fled. “And you didn’t want me there to help?”

She resisted the urge to snap back at him. Of course they didn’t want him there. He was weak, although she wouldn’t dare say it that way. “I was worried it’d be too much for you.”

His masculinity called into question, his ire flared. It was there, obvious in the glare of his eyes, the clenching of his fingers. She’d never seen him so upset before and she couldn’t stop herself from stepping back.

“I can handle myself.”

“I know you can.” She rested her hand on his arm, attempting to calm his irrational emotions. Fighting with the man wouldn’t help. She needed all the allies she could get. But she couldn’t help but notice how stiff his muscles were under her touch and it made her more than nervous. “Come on. It’s closed. We have other things to worry about now.”

He swallowed hard, his throat working. “You should get the injury stitched.” He reached out, taking her hand and she let him, not wanting to anger him further. She’d tied a clean tank top around the wound, the most she could do while running out the door.

“Does it still hurt?” Just like that, the Devon she’d come to know was back, concern flashing in his baby blue eyes.

She shook her head. Truth was, her hand had gone sort of numb. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. “It should be fine. But if it starts turning black, I promise to head to the hospital.”

He smiled and she couldn’t help but smile back, which was slightly ridiculous. How the hell could she smile now, after what had happened with Cristian? After what she’d learned? After…
everything.
Disconcerted, she pulled her hand away.

He was so incredibly different than Cristian. An inch or two taller, but his build was slighter. That didn’t mean he didn’t have power. No, he’d shown how powerful and agile he was when he’d fought Cristian. Even half-dead…or half-alive, she wasn’t sure which, he’d held his own until the end. He’d practically saved her life and he’d won her respect that day.

“What happened?” His eyes were intense, too intense and she couldn’t lie under the scrutiny of his gaze.
 

So instead she turned and moved down the path, following Rose’s picket fence. Devon opened the gate for her, but she knew he was still waiting for her answer. He wouldn’t relent until he had the truth. Fact was she wasn’t sure what to say. If she told him Cristian had cut her without her permission, he’d be back to his avenging angel-self.

Fortunately before she had time to respond the front door creaked open. “Are you all right? Did it close?” Camile rushed from the cottage as if she was a child eagerly awaiting her parent’s return. “Rose wouldn’t let me check afterward, said we needed to come back here…” Her voice trailed off as her attention focused on Ashley’s hand. “What the hell happened to you?”

Ashley gave her a half smile. “They didn’t mention you needed blood to close the portal.”

The woman cringed. For a witch who was supposed to do spells with things like eye of newt, she was rather squeamish.

Looking uncomfortable, Camile stuffed her hands into the pockets of her shorts. “So, did it close?”

Ashley nodded. “Yeah. We closed it.” As if that mattered when there was something so much worse festering under her house.

“Told ye,” Rose said, waddling onto the stoop. “Told her ah felt it close, but she didnae believe me.”

Camile rolled her eyes, but refrained from snapping back at her Aunt. “So that’s it then? All’s well that ends well?”
 

Ashley didn’t know quite how to respond to that question. Rose turned and moved back into the house; an odd reaction, to say the least. There was something in her silence that bothered Ashley.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Devon asked.

She nodded, her attention still focused on the door where Rose had disappeared. What did she know that she wasn’t telling them? She was so damn sick of people keeping secrets from her. Ashley took her bottom lip between her teeth. Unless…could Rose possibly know about the demon? No. She would have told them.

“Coome inside when yer ready,” Rose called out. “I ‘ave some medicine for yer wound.”

Camile frowned, her gaze flickering to the door, then back to Ashley as if she too realized something was off. “That’s it, right? No more portal, no more craziness?”

Ashley sighed. She was going to have to tell them eventually. “It would be, if that had been the only problem.”

Camile stiffened. “What do you mean?”

Ashley started toward the door. “Come on. We’ll discuss it inside.” Without waiting to see if they followed, she made her way into the small cottage.

Rose was in the kitchen, busy grinding herbs in a stone bowl and to all intents and purposes, ignoring them. Ashley sat at the table while Camile settled on the couch and Devon leaned against the wall. A golden lock of hair had fallen across his forehead, softening his stern look. He folded his arms over his chest, her guardian angel keeping watch. His hovering was starting to annoy her.

“So, what the hell’s going on?” Camile demanded.

“Whatever it is can wait until she’s bandaged.” Rose shuffled toward the table, her stone bowl and white, linen bandages in hand. She settled heavily in the chair next to Ashley’s. “Let’s see it.”

Ashley laid her arm out on the table. Rose pulled down the blood-soaked makeshift bandage. An angry, red line slashed across her palm, the rest of the skin paler than normal.

“Bastard,” Devon said softly.

“Now,” Rose warned, using a damp cloth to clean the wound.

The numbness gave way to sharp pain as the wound ripped anew. Ashley gritted her teeth to keep from crying out.

“He needed her blood tae close the portal.”

As much as she tried not to, Ashley grimaced each time the cloth touched the cut, the wound stinging something fierce. At least she still had feeling. That had to be a good sign.
 

“Why
her
blood?” Devon demanded.

“Because she opened the portal.” Rose grabbed a handful of sticky glob from her bowl and smeared it across the wound.

The sharp sting gave way to blessed numbness. Ashley sank back into the chair, her shoulders relaxing. Finally she could concentrate on their conversation.

Devon moved forward, settling in the chair across from hers. “Camile opened the portal as well, yet he didn’t use her blood.”

Rose paused for one telling moment, her gaze fixed to her wound. Did the others notice how she kept her gaze firmly averted? “Aye, well, ah needed Camile tae help bind the area.”

She wrapped a long, white cloth around the injury, her thin lips pressed firmly together as if she refused to say more. Ashley slid Camile a glance. The woman looked as unsure as Ashley felt.

“Why’d you need me, Aunt?” Camile stood, stepping closer. “Really the spell only needs one.”

Rose pushed away from the table, her chair legs screeching across the floorboards. “What’s with all the bloody questions? Yer all experts at witchcraft now?” She shuffled toward the door, irritation evident in her quick, stiff strides. “Ah’m getting more herbs.” She slammed the door shut, leaving them in stunned silence.

“Well,” Ashley said. “That was odd.”

“Tell us,” Devon demanded, his gaze piercing. “What were you going to say outside?”

Heat crawled up Ashley’s neck. She played with her bandage, pretending to tuck the ends away. She was sort of hoping they’d forget. “Just that…well…”

God, how did she tell them their work wasn’t done? And, in fact, it was going to get much worse? They’d say screw you and dash for the nearest exit. She couldn’t do this alone. Then again, she could always return home to the States. Camile was going back to school anyway. Devon could…Devon could come with her. She didn’t need to stay here and fight some
thing
that lived in her basement, she sure as hell didn’t need to put her life in danger. Her gaze went to the window, as if she could find answers in the blue sky. But then there was Cristian… Gorgeous, infuriating Cristian. He was obviously intent on fighting that demon, the true reason why he’d wanted to her home. Had he been trying to protect her all along? Could she really leave him behind to fight the demon alone?
 

Camile rested her hand atop of Ashley’s, drawing her back into the moment. “What is it?”

Ashley sighed, knowing she had to tell them the truth. “It’s Cristian.”

Devon’s scowl darkened. “I knew it.”

She threw the man an exasperated glance.

“Okay, go on,” Camile said, settling in the chair her aunt had recently vacated.

Ashley dropped her attention to her bandage. She couldn’t look them in the eyes when she told them the truth; the truth was too ridiculous. Then again, she was talking to a witch and the formally dead, how much more ridiculous could you get? “You see, he mentioned there’s something buried in the basement of my pub.”

The room fell silent and the heat in her neck shot to her cheeks. It sounded insane. Ashley realized that as soon as the words slipped from her lips. Something buried in her basement? It was like a bad horror movie. Hell, her life had become a bad horror movie.

“Something…
what
something?” Camile asked.

Ashley closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands. “He might have said something about a demon.” When there was no response, she peeked between her fingers. Camile’s mouth was hanging open. Devon was merely frowning as before.

“Balls,” Camile finally got out. “A….a
demon
?”

Ashley sighed and placed her hands in her lap. “That’s not all.”

She sank back into her chair and dared a look at Devon. His face was blank, and oddly she could read nothing in his eyes. No shock, not even anger. “You see, when I first arrived there was…activity. The house trembling. I’ve had horrible dreams about my father calling to me.”

“It’s the demon?” Camile asked. “Was it the demon trying to get out?”

Ashley shrugged. “I don’t know.” She looked to Devon for answers.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you. I remember nothing more.” The words were said calmly, too calmly, as if read from a novel. His face was blank again, making her wonder if she’d imagined the confusion she’d seen moments before.

Frowning, Ashley tried to find the truth in his eyes. He looked away, avoiding eye contact. Why did she have the sudden feeling he wasn’t telling her everything he knew?

Camile jumped from her seat and raced to a stack of books by the wall. “When’s it coming? We’ll research. Figure out how to stop it, kill it.”

Kill it? Ashley blanched. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to kill anything. They could have demon’s rights for all she knew and she’d end up on death row for murder. Besides, how did they know they could trust Cristian? “I don’t know that either. Cristian claims it’ll be soon.”

Camile looked over her shoulder at Ashley. “Soon? That’s all we got?”

Ashley could see the frustration in her green eyes, no doubt mirrored in her own. She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything.

Camile sighed and turned back to the books. “You need to work with him. Find out as much as you—”

“No,” Devon snapped out, standing so fast his chair slammed to the floor with a thud that rattled the window panes.

Surprised, Camile and Ashley both jumped.

His hands were curled at his sides, his breathing harsh as if he was trying to contain himself. He wasn’t doing a very good job. “You
won’t
work with him.”

Ashley’s irritation flared. He was acting like a jealous boyfriend, and she’d never been one to put up with possessiveness. “I know you’re worried, Devon—”

He slammed his fist on the tabletop, Rose’s bowl rattling. “You are not to talk to him.”