The Demon Hunter Read online

  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 bro
w. 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.

  A quaint, stone cottage lay nestled in the middle of the field, smoke curling from the chimney. It resembled a painting from the 1800s, except for the dark magic hovering in a cloudy aura over the building.

  Unease swept through his body, a ring of warning bells. Devon caught up to Terri as she was opening the front door. “You’re still practicing the dark arts then?”

  “I dabble,” she admitted.

  He wasn’t surprised she’d been truthful; how could she deny she’d been working with the dark magic when she knew he could sense the power? She had started when she’d been married to his brother. There had been many arguments between the two over her practice of the dark arts. His parents had been devastated. Which had been one reason why Terri and his brother had moved here, to this small town. He hadn’t had a chance to visit them before his brother had died.

  A flock of crows burst from the tall weeds, crying out in protest. She was more than dabbling, if the warning from the birds was any indication.

  “Sit, please. I’ll get tea.” She sashayed toward the small, open kitchen. Two doors interrupted the far wall, while a large living room and kitchen made up the front of the cottage. A cliche black kettle hung over the stone fireplace, and dried herbs clung to the wooden beams on the ceiling.

  “No tea, just explain,” Devon demanded, shutting the door behind Ellie. He sensed no other entities inside the small cottage. But that didn’t mean they were alone. Terri could have used a spell to block a presence.

  His sister-in-law paused, studying him curiously. “All right. Have a seat.”

  Devon didn’t sit, instead moving toward the fireplace and leaning against the mantel. Ellie hesitated, then reluctantly settled on the small sofa. She wore her feelings on her face and right now it was obvious she was not only confused, but also incredibly leery of him, of Terri, of the situation.

  “Start the day I died,” he said.

  Ellie visibly stiffened. Human’s had a difficult time dealing with death and although she obviously had supernatural abilities, she had been raised a human.

  Terri settled in the only chair, a wing-back he was sure he recognized from their ancestral home. “Your brother, your mother… all killed by a demon after Cristian killed you.”

  He’d known they were dead. Still, hearing the words pierced his heart in a way he hadn’t thought it could. Gone. Forgotten. Like so many in his family.

  “This Cristian killed you?” Ellie interrupted.

  Devon rubbed his aching temples. “Not exactly.”

  Terri merely shrugged, as if unconcerned. He searched Terri’s face for something, anything; sadness, guilt, acceptance. She remained oddly guarded, her eyes devoid of emotion. But then she had had over one hundred years to deal with her grief. Perhaps he was being too harsh with her.

  “The house was sold, along with the belongings.” She tapped her long fingernails upon the wooden arms of the chair. “I was left quite penniless.” Finally, there was some emotion on her face…annoyance. She wasn’t mourning. She was angry that they had died and left her with little.

  “I was forced to practice the…” She glanced at Ellie. “The dark arts as a way to support myself. As I’m sure you remember, dark potions sell for quite a bit.”

  He had a sinking feeling she was doing more than merely selling potions. “My sword. All I need is the sword.”

  She shook her head. “Gone. Disappeared, from what I heard. I tried to recover it, but to no avail.”

  He didn’t doubt her word. She would have wanted the sword, knowing how powerful it was. Even if she couldn’t use the energy, she could sell it.

  “There are rumors…” She stood and swept closer to him, the black dress swirling around her ankles. Taking the long wooden spoon that hung on a nail, she slowly stirred her brew. With her movement, her energy swept toward him, that dark energy that tightened his gut and made him almost ill. She wore her evilness like a perfume.

  Devon breathed deeply, attempting to identify the potion. “What rumors?”

  She returned the spoon and slid him a glance. “Rumors that another warrior claimed the weapon, took it with heaven’s blessing.”

  Suddenly the cottage disappeared and memories came rushing back.

  Cristian, Ashley, the sword.

  They were in a dark dungeon of sorts. Devon slammed his fist into Cristian’s face. Pain shot up his arm, but he was barely aware. Cristian stumbled back, not far, but far enough. Devon held out his hand and the sword appeared, the feel of cold metal comforting against his palm.

  Cristian regained his balance and burst toward him, determination upon his face. “No!”

  Devon lifted the sword and shoved the blade into his own chest. The point moved through his body easily. So easily. He stumbled off balance. His body went numb, his essence slipping away. It didn’t hurt. How very odd.

  Cristian froze only inches from him, a man who, at one time, had been like a brother. He was too late. Devon might have done horrible things in his life, but he had redeemed himself. He fell to the side, hitting the hard coffin.

  “Devon?” Ellie’s concerned voice reached out to him, jerking him back into the present.

  Lord Templeton had been right. Cristian had the weapon. A myriad of emotions swept through his body, leaving him disoriented and trembling. Devon stumbled toward the sofa, his knees suddenly weak. Cristian had taken his sword; had kept it safe and most likely still had the weapon. Devon rested his hand on his chest. He could practically feel that sword even now slicing through his body.

  “Devon? Are you okay?” Ellie rested her hand on his thigh. Her warm being settled so close to him, offered a comfort he didn’t dare rely upon.

  “Tell me all.”

  Terri crossed her arms over her chest. “This wasn’t the first time you were brought back, was it?”

  Devon shook his head. No use in lying.

  Terri settled in her chair, watching him curiously. “Some six months ago I felt a shift in the atmosphere. The workings of magic. Whether you all accepted me or not, I’m still bonded to your family.”

  Devon ignored her smirk. His parents had never cared for Terri, and apparently she still held a grudge. “About six months ago, a witch brought me back. I died in order to bind my soul to a demon.” He’d left out the part about him killing himself.

  But by the amusement in her eyes, she knew. “How noble of you. And what brought you back this time?”

  Hell, what else did she know? “I’m not sure.”

  There was that smirk back in place. “My, my, some people just can’t stay dead.”

  He could hear Ellie’s teeth grinding in anger, knew she was offended on his behalf and wasn’t sure if
he should be annoyed or honored that she cared about him.

  “And this demon you bonded to? If you’re back, that could mean he’s back as well.”

  “True,” Devon replied. But it was more than a guess. He knew the demon had come back to earth with him. He could sense the animal. And if he could sense him, that meant the demon could most likely sense Devon as well.

  “And so you’ll destroy him, before he destroys you?”

  “That is the plan.”

  “Wait a minute.” Ellie surged to her feet. He was wondering when she’d finally connect the dots and interrupt. “You’re saying you were brought back from the dead?”

  He nodded. Terri merely watched her with amusement.

  “And a demon came with you?”

  “Yes.”

  She’d gone uncommonly pale. “And this demon is most likely wreaking havoc on the world at this very moment?”

  “Tis possible.”

  “You couldn’t have told me that before?” She raked her hands through her hair and paced the small living room, her movements agitated and frustrated. The woman had had too little sleep, too little food and much, too much excitement in the last few days. He’d wondered when she’d break down into hysterics.

  “So,” Terri glanced his way. “What is she?”

  He shrugged, listening to Ellie’s muttered curses with some amusement. “I thought you might know.”

  Realizing they were discussing her, Ellie froze. Terri strolled toward her, frowning. “Her aura is odd colored, almost iridescent.”

  “She seems to take on the powers of which ever being she is near. Although the power fades after a while.”

  “Truly?” Terri’s brows rose. Her excitement was practically tangible. “I’ve heard of them, but thought they were a myth.”

  “What? What am I?” Ellie demanded. Her questioning gaze sought his.