The Demon Hunter

  A woman was to marry and bear children. Wasn’t that how he had treated his wife? He’d cared about her, there was no doubt. Yet, he hadn’t truly known her. And he sure as bloody hell didn’t truly know this woman, Ellie.

  But he did know one thing, even though only yesterday they’d fought a demon and he was pretty sure the black spots on her white shift were demon’s blood, the woman still looked beautiful. Damn it all, why couldn’t he stop thinking about her? He had more important things to worry about…like surviving. Yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about her soft lips, sliding his fingers through her silky hair, breathing in her floral essence…

  He closed his eyes, sighing over his own ridiculous thoughts. Too damn long without a woman. That was his excuse. Still, he couldn’t deny there was an innocence about her that appealed to the Victorian man he still was deep down. At the same time, she contained a strength and determination that appealed to his modern side. Why was it that he’d just met her, yet he felt like he’d known her forever?

  Images and scenes flashed through his mind, memories of a former life. Two lives. One in which he’d been a prim and proper Victorian. Another in a modern world with Ashley. Two former lives that seemed so far away. And now, yet another life to add to the list. Really, it was becoming rather redundant. How long would this one last? Most likely not long with Ellie at his side. She seemed to attract trouble. Or was it that he was attracting the demons?

  Frustrated, he sighed. “We need to discuss the situation.”

  Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel, her gaze flickering from the rearview mirror to the road ahead, but never landing on him. “What’s there to discuss. You’re forcing me to drive you south. Although I have to say, I feel like we’re driving in circles here.” She slid him a glance, brief attention. “How much longer is this going to last?”

  “I told you where to go … south.”

  “Fine, sure. And once I drop you off, we never have to see each other again.”

  Why did that thought not sit well with him? Never see Ellie? In the two days they’d been together, she’d become a part of his life. Almost … an extension of him. He hated to admit it, but he needed her.

  “Ellie, you must tell me what you are.”

  “Damn it!” She slammed her hands against the steering wheel, her voice unnaturally loud in the small car. “I told you, I don’t know!”

  Bloody hell, but he actually believed her. “Start from the beginning.”

  She sighed and jerked the wheel left, pulling onto a dirt road that ended at an old, wooden gate. As eager as he was to continue their journey, it was probably for the best that they stop.

  “When I was four, my parents died. They were murdered, or so I’ve heard.” She shoved the door open and stepped out into the afternoon sun. He was so startled by her admittance, that for a moment he merely sat there, watching her make her way toward a stone fence.

  Parents murdered. Foster family murdered.

  Either she was having a love affair with death, or something wasn’t adding up. Devon pushed open the door and started toward her. Purple flowers whispered their greeting on the warm spring breeze. A breeze that caressed his skin like the touch of a long, lost friend. Yellow and white butterflies, disturbed by his presence, flittered from the flowers where they rested. Home. He was home.

  How he wanted to sink to the ground and thank God he was here. Instead, he focused on the exasperating female perched atop the stone fence, gazing out onto the fields of yellow wheat as if they had all the time in the world.

  “I don’t remember it.” She shrugged and slipped a lock of hair behind her ear. She swung her leg forward, kicking a yellow flower so it swayed back and forth. “Maybe I’ve blocked it or something. They said it was… horrible. Blood…everywhere.”

  The story felt wrong coming from her sweet lips, a picture-perfect woman in a picture-perfect setting. Yet, the story she told was one of horror. She said the words without emotion, but her eyes flashed with pain. Devon leaned against the fence, waiting for her to say more. And he knew there was more. For one long moment she didn’t speak. The wind shifted, sending her loose curls to flight and her sweet scent to him. Unwillingly, Devon moved closer.

  “I do remember one thing,” she finally whispered. “I saw something that night. The memories are vague, odd, but I know someone was there.”

  “A demon?”

  She swallowed hard and looked at him. “Maybe. Although at the time I just thought it was a monster. One of those things that lurks underneath children’s beds. Or in fairytales.”

  She visibly shivered, tiny bumps rising upon her bare arms, and he had the oddest urge to pull her close and offer her comfort in some way. She’d probably slap him if he dared. She wasn’t a Victorian lady in need of pampering. She was a modern woman who had survived on her own. Still, he moved even closer, the grass under his feet cool and soft.

  “Do you remember any of the details?”

  She slid him a disgusted glance.

  “Not of their deaths, of the monster.”

  She frowned, rubbing her forehead and closing her eyes. Lost in memories, with her face soft with sunlight, he had the insane urge to cup the back of her head and bring her close, to mold his mouth to hers so they could both forget, and it would be so easy to forget if he could just nudge her thighs wide…sink into her softness.

  “Something…red eyes.” Startled she jumped from the fence. “Red eyes! Oh my God, it was a demon!” She clamped her hand over her mouth, the horror in her gaze almost his undoing.

  His fingers curled as he resisted the urge to touch her. “Unfortunately, it’s not uncommon for demons to kill humans. Blinded by fear, the world usually finds a way to explain away the deaths. If they knew what really lurked out there… well, you could imagine the panic.”

  “But why me? Why can I see them when others don’t notice?” She shook her head. “Why does this chaos follow me?”

  How he wished he could put her mind at ease, but he knew as little as she did. “I don’t know why these things happen to you, but I know it’s not your fault. And I know you have these powers for a reason.”

  She looked at the ground, her face flushed. “You don’t understand how it feels. How horrible it is when disgusting thoughts and desires flare through your body. I can’t control them.”

  He could see the pain in her eyes, and had the insane desire to protect her. “Tell me everything. Tell me what happened after your parents died.”

  She paced through the tall grass, her arms crossed over her chest. The air was growing chill, dark clouds sweeping toward the sun as if the weather followed her mood. “I went into foster care.”

  “What is this foster care?”

  She paused, her gaze narrowing on him. Obviously he’d said something stupid. “A place where children go who have no parents.”

  He nodded in understanding. An orphanage, of sorts.

  She continued to pace, the flowers crunching underfoot. “Things would… happen. Odd things and my foster family would freak out and send me back to the orphanage. So I bounced from place to place.”

  He rubbed his chin, his mind spinning with a thousand different thoughts. “What sort of odd things?”

  She flushed, wrapping a loose strand of hair around her finger much like a child about to tell a secret. “Once, I levitated the family cat. I didn’t mean to. I just so badly wanted to pet it and they wouldn’t let me. Another time, I disappeared.” She grinned and his heart skipped a beat, warmth he’d never felt whispering through his body, as if her amusement was his. “That was actually pretty cool. But they didn’t think so. They couldn’t find me and had to call the police.”

  She slid him a glance, as if to judge his reaction.

  Devon scratched at the scruff along his jaw. “Did your parents have this ability?”

  She shrugged, resting against the wall. “I don’t really remember them. Don’t know anything about them other than my father was a police offic
er and my mother a nurse.”

  What the hell was she? A being with many powers, yet nothing definable. There was no explanation for her kind. He’d never heard or seen anything like her, yet there must be a reason why he had ended up here, with this woman. If there was one thing he knew, it was that there was no such thing as a coincidence.

  “Your eyes stopped glowing when the demon died.”

  She looked uneasy, flushing with what he assumed was embarrassment. “Oh.”

  Oh, that was her response? He could see the confusion in her gaze, knew she hadn’t a clue why her eyes had glowed. “When you fought the demon, your strength was unbelievable. Is it still there?”

  She shrugged, flexing her hands as if testing her powers.

  “Try,” he said.

  “How?”

  He stepped away from the wall. “Kick it.”

  She looked dubiously at the stone. “Are you joking?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, in no mood for an argument. “Kick it.”

  She frowned. “This is ridiculous.”

  He didn’t respond, merely waited. With a frustrated sigh, she shifted her weight onto her back foot, pulled the skirt of her shift up to her knees and kicked. Her foot hit the wall with a thud that visibly vibrated her body. A loose stone stumbled from the top, falling to the grass below. Pathetic. Human.

  Devon frowned. She’d been as strong as he, perhaps even stronger, in that gas station. Where had the power gone? Staring at the fallen stone, she shrugged.

  “Where’s the strength you showed only this morn?” He shifted his weight and kicked the wall. Even as exhausted and low on energy as he was, the stone cracked and crumbled to the ground, leaving a gaping hole in the wall.

  “Holy hell,” she whispered, turning wide eyes to him. “Instead of trying to figure out who I am, how about you tell me who you are?”

  “This morning, you were stronger than I. Where’s your strength now?” he asked again, ignoring her question.

  She shrugged once more. “It… drains. It comes suddenly, a tingling through my body, a warning of alarm bells. Then, just as suddenly as it arrives, it’s gone.”

  So perhaps they weren’t her powers after all. A thrill of excitement coursed through his body. “In that shop, your powers left when the demon died. The other times you’ve experienced these surges of strength, were there supernatural beings in the vicinity?”

  She crossed her arms, gripping herself tightly. An almost pained expression crossed her face. “Maybe.”

  There were things she wasn’t telling him. Secrets she still held close to her heart. Damn it all, she didn’t trust him. They didn’t have time to beat around the bush. “Explain.”

  She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “It’s ridiculous… insane.”

  “Try me.”

  She sighed. “When I disappeared, I was eight and I thought… I thought I saw something…” Her cheeks grew a charming shade of pink, her voice almost vulnerable.

  “Go on.”

  She glanced upward, toward the gray clouds hovering above. “I was in the garden, a rose garden, and I saw this thing hovering around the flowers. At first I thought it was a bug, but then I realized it wasn’t behaving like a bug and it was bigger, the size of my hand.” She gazed out onto the field, lost in memories. “It sparkled, a beautiful little… woman with wings.”

  “A fairy. They love roses.”

  She jerked her gaze toward him. “You… you’re serious?”

  Devon nodded.

  She rested her hand on her heart, her face flushed with excitement. “I mean, that’s what I thought it was, but I figured surely I must have imagined it!” She held up her hand, her brows snapping together in confusion. “Wait, you’re saying you…you believe me?”

  “I do. Fairies are known for their ability to become invisible.”

  She frowned. “What are you saying?”

  “When you were with that fairy, you could disappear too, right?”

  Hesitantly, she nodded.

  “It’s obvious what’s happening,” he stated, unsure if he should be thrilled or worried. “Somehow, for some reason, you’re able to absorb the powers of supernatural beings around you.”

  ****

  Another night, another town. For three days now she’d been driving and somehow, had ended up here. It was a quaint town that boasted all of 898… according to the sign. It was typical English village with thatched-roof cottages that lined a cobbled street. Ancient stone homes that were dressed with ivy, complete with little old ladies brushing off the front stoops.

  Yep, a typical little English town. This is why she’d moved here… to get away, escape into the past. But she hadn’t escaped, that was proven the other day in that gas station. Not that she didn’t appreciate her abilities. There were times when they were sort of handy. But there were times when they were a damn nuisance as well. Being accused of killing your own foster parents. Yep, that topped the list.

  And now… now a new piece to the puzzle that was her life. She could absorb the powers of others. Just the thought made her shudder with excitement. And she was excited, underneath that worry. The possibilities were endless. The mysteries of her life were finally being solved. It had been fate, meeting Devon, she was sure of it.

  Yes, she loved this quaint and quiet town, she loved the fact that she was finally starting to understand her abilities. Yet, she couldn’t truly enjoy the ambiance. Since realizing what she could do, Devon had been oddly quiet. She hadn’t a clue what he was thinking and he hadn’t explained why they’d taken a detour and ended up here.

  Not that she was complaining. She was happy to get out of the stuffy car; Devon’s intense gaze on her for hours on end had been driving her batty. She didn’t truly know the man, but couldn’t deny she felt some bizarre connection to him. She was drowning in emotions she didn’t understand and only he seemed to have the answers.

  “So,” she shoved her hands into the pockets of a sweatshirt she’d found in the trunk. The sun was setting fast and the air growing chilly. She merely wanted a hot shower and soft bed. “Why are we here?”

  Devon looked completely at ease as he strolled through town barefoot. He didn’t even seem to notice the curious stares of the natives. The cut from the demon at the gas station had healed amazingly fast, not surprising. He wondered what she was, but she should have been demanding to know his true identity.

  “I need to find someone… anyone who might know what happened to my family.”

  “Family?” He had a family? How odd. She couldn’t imagine him with a father and mother, or as a small child with needs. He’d lived at Crestmoore once, had a life much less complicated, she assumed. A family life. Had they had dinners together at night? Had his mother tucked him into bed? Had he a wife?

  They turned down an alley that was so narrow, she was forced to walk behind him. “I did have parents. Even a sibling. My brother moved here when he was young, newly married.”

  His brother? Ellie glanced down at the skirts of her shift, still splattered with black demon’s blood, and grew oddly nervous. “We’re meeting your brother?”

  “Not exactly.” He paused as the alley opened onto another cobbled lane.

  Ellie followed his gaze. Across the street an iron fence separated the living from the dead. “Wonderful, another cemetery,” she muttered. “And your parents are…”

  “Dead.”

  Of course they were. He started across the road and pushed open the cemetery gate, the hinges creaking with age. Overgrown lawn, tombstones leaning precariously to the side, some toppled and broken. Yep, her very own horror movie. It was obvious the place had been neglected. The only living thing in the area was a gnarled oak that leaned toward the ground, providing shade for moss, lichen and other creepy crawling things to grow.

  “No offense, but this trip is becoming rather depressing.”

  He didn’t respond.

  With a frustrated sigh, she followed Devon into the quie
t cemetery, the hem of her dress dragging along the ground. What she wouldn’t do for a change of clothing and a nice, warm bath. “You know, this works both ways. You expect me to spill my guts, yet haven’t told me anything about you.” Devon, even though he walked bare foot and had yellow bruises marring his exposed arms, still looked like he’d stepped from the pages of a magazine. While she… she shuddered to think about what she resembled.

  “Spill your guts?” He weaved his way around the headstones. “What do you want to know?”

  How it is that you can possibly be so hot after all we’ve been through? “Well, anything for starters.” Would he really tell her his secrets? He might seem like an open book now, but only yesterday he’d refused to divulge anything. What was he up to?

  He paused in the middle of the cemetery. Slowly, he lowered to his haunches and brushed lichen from a headstone, almost as if caressing a loved one. “I’m not human.”

  “Obviously,” she muttered. Still, it was a relief to hear him finally admit it. Of course she’d known he was something supernatural. Hearing the words from his lips sent a shiver of realism to this ridiculous episode of her life. A high-pitched cry rent the silent cemetery. Startled, she glanced toward the tree. A black cat sat on a branch above, watching them with large, green eyes. Just bleedin wonderful.

  “So.” Feeling uneasy, she knelt beside Devon. “What are you?”

  “A warrior, of sorts, sent to protect earth from unwanted spirits. We’re angels…if a bit fallen. Rafael’s Warriors.”

  He said the words so casually that it took a moment for them to sink in. As if being a warrior was completely and utterly normal. “An angel warrior?”

  “Of sorts.”

  “Of sorts.” What else was there to say? She was too stunned to speak more. Yet, she realized that his words weren’t exactly shocking. No, kneeling there next to him she realized that she was shocked because she believed him. This tall, gorgeous man with the face of an angel and the strength of a superhero, who could appear and disappear in the blink of an eye, could only be something supernatural. She sure as hell didn’t need to demand proof, she’d seen what he was capable of.